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[WP] You are an ant whose anthill has just been smashed by an angry schoolchild. You and the other few ants who survived track the child down to avenge your fallen comrades.
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"We looked at each other, our faces stern and rugged. No more words were needed between us survivors.\n\nWe had survived the march into this cruel world of stone were only they lived. We avoided their rolling steel mountains, climbed their walls, and walked distances we would have not thought possible.\n\nAnd we had survived the reckoning.\n\nThe Day's event flashed before my eyes. My mother ripped apart from the force of a thousand mice. My home destroyed. Our country decimated.\n\nThe Day our false sense of security was shattered. The Day we received a grim reminder that we were living as cattle. In a cage,to be destroyed at will.\n\nNo one alive had ever even seen a human. Our histories tell us they first arrived a hundred days ago. And one of them had come back to destroy everything we hold dear.\n\nThey, the humans ranged considerably in size. The first had been smaller than our hill. It wreaked havoc, but we rebuilt the hill, stronger and taller. But when the giant human gazed down from over the top of the hill, we knew it was not enough.\n\nI was evacuated with my friends, but our nation couldn't recover. We had lost the ability to house the evacuated, so the refugees were sent on a suicide mission.\n\nBut instead of crying about it, I rejoiced. I had sworn on my mothers grave to avenge her, and kill all humans. My friends think I am crazy. But I will show them. I will do it somehow.\n\nIf only I had some way to match their titanic strength. If I could just...\n\n\"CHARGE!\", the survey corps commander yelled. \n\nNo matter what my delusions, I knew I would die today. But I would die with my claws around human flesh.",
"\"You realize this is certain death, right Ricky?\"\n\n\"...I realize,\" I replied. There was nothing to say. Nothing left to live for. Nothing left to do...\n\n...Except fight until my last breath.\n\nI looked ahead of me, legs pumping furiously, as I spotted the kid. He was just SITTING there with his little toy truck, grinning like the sadist he was. He'd just murdered my friends, my family, and everyone I knew. And there would likely be no justice, save for what he was about to get from me.\n\nStill, John ran by my side. We were the only two that survived. He still had a chance at life, yet still, he followed.\n\n\"You don't have to follow me,\" I said, gasping as I ran towards the boy.\n\n\"I know,\" he replied, \"but what else is there to do? Without the colony, we'll both die anyway.\"\n\nHe was right. Best to go out fighting.\n\nAs we approached, the kid still sat, obliviously rolling his little truck along the ground. I made my way to his grounded knee and stealthily began to crawl my way up his leg. I could hear John climbing behind me.\n\n\"You ready?\" I asked.\n\n\"Ready.\"\n\nI opened my jaws wide. Life seemed to slow down as I remembered my family - all dead now, thanks to this kid. There would be justice. There HAD to be justice.\n\nI bit down into his skin, and his whole leg jerked.\n\n\"OW!\" The boy screamed.\n\nI had one last breath of satisfaction before his enormous hand bore down on me."
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[WP] A muggle buys a magic shop from a wizard and must now cater the magic and non magic customers who come by, without completely understanding how everything works
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"\"Don't you have anything more *interesting* than these parlor tricks?\"\n\nI looked at my customer. He looked a little young to be a wizard, but he had the bearing of one. Stage magicians could be rather uptight as well, though. I tried to probe a little more. \"Do you mean interesting magic tricks, or, you know, *interesting* ones?\"\n\n\"What? I mean, something you won't find in the first chapter of Baby's First Magic Tricks. Something I haven't seen before!\"\n\n\"Oh, we've got some of those.\" I began leading him to the non-magical side of the shop. \"The more advanced tricks are in this aisle. We have a magic hat that's really popular, there's a lot of tricks you can do with it, and it comes with a...\"\n\n\"*You!*\" Another customer had entered the store behind me. \"Are you the owner of this establishment?\"\n\nOh crumbs. That guy was definitely a real wizard. He was wearing a robe, for one. I don't know why, but most wizards just don't bother with non-magical fashion. They wear robes, or elaborate waistcoats and dresses, or some other fashion that's from the 1800s at the latest. I guess when you have the power to bend reality to your will, you can't be caught dead in jeans and a T-shirt.\n\nI turned to greet him with a smile. \"Yes, that's me. How can I help you, sir?\"\n\nHe was holding a black velvet bag with a silver drawstring. \"This Bottomless Bag you sold me is defective! I need you to...\"\n\n\"Yes, yes, I understand, come right this way and I'll see what I can do.\" Hopefully I could get him away from the mundane before he said something like \"cast a repair charm on it.\"\n\nWe stepped back to the cash register and I took the bag from the customer's hands. \"What exactly is the problem with it?\"\n\n\"I put something in the bag, and now I can't get it out!\"\n\nI peered into the bag. The interior was pitch-dark, and when I stuck in a hand, I couldn't feel anything inside. Maybe it really was bottomless. He obviously expected there was a way to get stuff back out of it, though. I'd need him to show me how.\n\nI handed the bag back to him. \"Can you try to get your item back, so I can see what's happening? What was in it, anyway?\"\n\n\"Just some writing supplies, thank god. A quill pen, inkwell, parchment...\" He reached into the bag. \"Quill. Pen. Quill pen. Writing utensil. Writing device made of a goose feather. Hello? Are you listening? *Retrievus Contentus!* Give me my pen back, you infernal sack!\"\n\nI nodded to myself. Apparently you were supposed to be able to say the name of an item and have it returned, but that feature wasn't working. Unfortunately, I didn't have the foggiest idea on how to fix that. I'd have to fall back on my customer service tricks.\n\n\"I'm sorry, but I get these from another supplier.\" Obviously, since I didn't have any magic of my own. \"I could exchange it for you, and I can repay your losses if it's still under warranty. Did you keep the receipt?\"\n\nHe handed over a scrap of parchment, and I scrutinized it carefully. Not just because I wanted to check the warranty; the receipt could provide a lot of clues once you knew how the magic shop's inventory system worked. The wizard who used to own the place put an \"Accountant's Helper\" charm on the cash register and record books, which recorded exactly what was bought and sold in the store. It meant that I had to do the record books with parchment and ink, but the scanning magic it used could reveal details I didn't even know about.\n\nCase in point: The receipt listed the bag the customer had bought as an \"Actually Bottomless Bag with Portal Retrieval and Password Protection.\" That made things clear enough.\n\n\"Aha! I know what the issue is. This was a *genuine* bottomless bag, not a bag of holding. It's a little confusing, since they're both commonly called bottomless bags.\" I hoped that was true. I had a bit of a sense for how magic worked, but I still had to do a lot more guesswork than I was comfortable with.\n\n\"Really? What's the difference?\"\n\n\"A bag of holding simply has an Extension Charm inside of it to carry more items. It still has a bottom, it's just farther away than it should be. A *bottomless* bag uses a spatial loop to remove the bottom completely. You put an object inside and it falls forever, like it's in a bottomless pit.\"\n\n\"Oh, I see! So it can hold an infinite amount of items. And it uses a portal spell to retrieve the items on demand?\"\n\nI nodded. Looks like my guess was right. \"You've got it, sir. But this model of bottomless bag has a Password Charm on it, so someone can't steal your items. Do you know what the password is?\"\n\n\"No! I never set a password on this stupid thing!\"\n\n\"Must have happened by accident.\"\n\n\"So how am I suppose to get my things back? Is there a way to reset the password?\"\n\nI shrugged. \"I don't know, I lost the instructions scroll. But since it's like a bottomless pit, I suspect you might have a simple solution.\"\n\n\"What's that?\"\n\n\"Turn it upside down and wait for your stuff to fall out again.\"\n\n\"Does that really work?\" He turned the bag upside down, but looked skeptical.\n\n\"It should. It would be weird if gravity stopped working inside that bag. I mean, you'd notice something strange when you put your hand inside. It wouldn't feel like it was still on Earth.\"\n\n\"I suppose you're right.\"\n\nWe sat there in silence for a few seconds, waiting for something to happen. The mundane customer paid for the magic hat and left, apparently not noticing or not caring that a man in wizard's robes was intently starting at an upside-down velvet bag. Good, that could have been a mess.\n\nThen a thought occurred to me. \"Oh, you might want to put a Cushioning Charm down, or else...\"\n\nAn inkwell came out of the mouth of the bag at terminal velocity, smashing on the floor and spraying ink across the linoleum and splattering on the hem of his robes.\n\n\"...Yeah, that might happen. Sorry about that.\"",
"My lovely wife, she is a witch. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, she just born that way. The first witch from a muggle family. I still remember the day she brought me to this Diagon Alley, I could not believe nor understand two thirds of what was going on, she laugh and laugh at my dropped jaw and pushed me inside this toy store on a corner. There a red hair man was telling a joke and kids around him where clapping.\n\n\"That's George Weasley,\" she said, \"I told you about him already.\" and she had, that secret war that run about 20 years ago, she was a little kid back then not even having received her acceptance letter. But now she was a witch, a proper witch, and I am her husband, which is nice, don't get me wrong, but its so weird. Specially at the store.\n\nI bought the store 3 years ago, as I'm a veterinarian I though I could do it, I mean, I just have to sell kids pets, how complicated could that be? oh... boy... you have no idea. I don't know why, but beast behave different around wizardry people, I employ a kid that just got out of \"hag warts\"! he, if Amanda hears it she'll kill me, anyway, this kid can talk to spiders and they do whatever he wants, I have to be wary of him asking them to build nets in the door frames and not eat them every time i go by, but I could not expect less of a Weasley I guess.\n\nAnd then the frogs, did you know you can buy a potion that will send frogs to sleep? and that you can buy them by barrel because they wont stop singing if you don't? I didn't knew\n\nI have been working on fixing a dog's bad teeth and then having a pixie wanting to steel it from me, that was fun. Or when the house elfs came by and ordered and cleaned the store, what's with that, they didn’t even asked for anything and where just happy and chapping all the time, I almost shat my pants the first time.\n\nJust the other day there was an old woman who wanted me to find her a vulture bird because she needed a hunting companion... luckily my lovely wife told her that that was illegal both on the muggle and the wizardry worlds.\n\nBut what weird me the most are all those cages my wife and our employee handle all day, those that seem to have nothing inside, they give me the chills.\n\nLuckily I’ve made some friends with the locals, specially this incredible huge guy who hangs at the bar frequently, he is always interested on hearing me talk about normal everyday animals, and then he talks and talks about things i can hardly believe, dragons and mermaids, nargles and hypogriphs.\n\nI love my wife and the world she lives in, and i love that i can see at least part of it, but some nights i can't sleep thinking about those empty cages, and what if my wife and myself are not seeing even weirder things out there.\n\n\n===========\nI'm not good at English :("
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[WP] Your entire super hero career has been to help people, often with unconventional methods and the people are never on your side. Today a new "hero" shows up and says you've been the villain all along.
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"\"What? Come again?\"\n\n\"You're the villian,\" he said matter-of-factly. The arrogance of it all. Him, in his silver suit with red cap, flying above the rubble. Judging me!\n\n\"That's impossible, I save lives!\"\n\n\"How so?\" he asked me.\n\n\"Like, last week, for example. I blasted that whole hospital full of radiation to help the cancer victims!\"\n\n\"You gave more people cancer than you cured!\" he said.\n\n\"Well, what about that alligator that got stuck on the boat a few weeks back. I saved his life!\" I cried.\n\n\"You sunk a ferry full of people and cars! It cost hundreds of thousands in insurance claims and the people had to be fished out of the river by the fire department!\" he yelled.\n\n\"Well, what about when I saved that little girl from getting hit by that ball at the Yankee's game?\"\n\n\"SHE WAS TRYING TO CATCH IT, ASSHOLE!\"\n\n\"C'mon, it was heading right at her.\"\n\n\"YEAH, RIGHT AT HER GLOVE!\"\n\nI was starting to get a little bit offended. Here I am, all my hard work, being portrayed as less than helpful. \"What about those kind fellas that had gotten locked out of that steel room? I helped them get the door open.\"\n\n\"You helped four guys rob a bank! That was a vault! It was supposed to keep them out!\"\n\n\"The girl with the red baloon!\"\n\n\"She was allergic to latex!\"\n\n\"The plane that almost crashed into a lake!\" I was getting desperate now.\n\n\"You dropped it on top of an elementry school.\" He said. \"Hundreds of little kids died!\"\n\nWow, was it really true? \"What about that Army that was invading Florida six months ago? I stopped an entire invading Army, c'mon!\"\n\n\"You mean the national guard trying to provide relief to the hurricane victims? Good job, guy.\"\n\n\"Well mother fuck...\"",
"I hear him come in because he's loud. I was loud too when I was younger. Flashy. Anything for the spectators. Anything for the fame. He must have broken down an outer wall to get in, as if that were necessary. I'm sure he expects it to be on the front of the papers tomorrow. I hope the whole damned building collapses because of it. It won't hurt him, but it will make him feel like an idiot.\n\nI point three fingers at the last three bodies, and the air blurs. Up close, it looks like heat distortion, but it's not hot. From far away, it looks like little white strings shoot out of my fingertips and latch onto what i'm moving. The Puppeteer--that's what the world has taken to calling me.\n\nI flex my fingers and the strings bend and pull. The bodies slide across the tile and come to rest near the others. Twenty-seven in all. I take a tarp out of my pack and, with my power, I lay it over all the casualties so that I don't have to look at their staring, empty faces.\n\n\"Marion?\"\n\nI hear his footsteps because the building is silent now except for my own breathing--which is loud in the gas mask I'm wearing. Marion is what he calls me. Some idiot play on words about marionettes. He tried to get it to stick in the media, but they like their \"Puppeteer.\" That should have been a lesson to him--that you can't get people to do whatever you want--but I don't think he learned it. Not yet, anyway.\n\n\"Marion! I know you're here!\"\n\nMy real name, incidentally, is Charlie. Nobody will acknowledge it because it's too normal.\n\n\"Where are you, Marion?\"\n\n\"Here,\" I say. It's muffled from the mask, and really I don't even know why I'm still wearing this damned thing anyway. I take it off and repeat myself. \"I'm here.\"\n\nHe steps around the corner and faces me. Tall boots, loud colors. Fucking idiot youth. I wear all black because it's functional and comfortable. Subtle. But no, the reporters say I wear it because it matches my soul. \n\nHe's glowing, although that's nothing new. He always glows a little from whatever-the-hell happened to him to give him his gifts. He looks around, lets his gaze settle on the tarp.\n\nI've been putting this moment off for too long, and all the things I always planned to say are slipping away. I stay silent.\n\n\"You're a monster,\" he says.\n\n\"I'm a lot of things.\"\n\nI barely spit out the last word before he's dashing toward me. Overzealous punk. He's fast, and he hits hard. I know from experience. This time I'm ready, though. I flex my fingers and those not-heat lines shoot out again. My puppet strings.\n\nI catch his hand in the air and he freezes two feet away from me. I wrap the strings around his wrists and ankles. I put nine of them on him and hold tight. His face contorts with rage and I fight the compulsion to laugh in his face. He thinks he's stronger than he is. I thought that too. Everything comes back around after all.\n\n\"That's not how it's going to go down,\" I say.\n\nHe struggles against the strings and I cinch them down. I bend his knees, cross his legs. I make him sit on the ground. I make the tenth string a coil and I float it under myself. I sit on it, and to any lookers-on it would look like I'm floating. Of course, there's nobody here to see this exchange. It's solely for my benefit, so that I can look down on him.\n\n\"I doubt much of this is going to penetrate your thick skull, but I should try. I really just want to let you sink, but contrary to what everyone seems to think, I have morals. I have sympathy.\"\n\n\"You don't have any of that!\" he says. \"You're evil!\"\n\nI roll my eyes. \"Turn off the hero act, kid. There's nobody here to see it except me, and I'm not impressed.\"\n\nHe glares at me. If he had heat vision, I'm sure he'd be melting my face right now.\n\n\"I'm done,\" I say. \"I'm tired. I'm weak. And I'm passing that baton to you, whether you like it or not. You're new at this, so listen to the journeyman.\" I take a deep breath. \"You're going to have to make choices. Tough ones. With any luck, you'll make the right ones. But know that no matter what you do, people will hate you for it. They will find the worst things you do among all the good ones, and magnify them.\n\n\"There will be a missile strike headed for a bridge, and you'll know that there's a man in one car with sensitive intel that can save the world. You'll save him, and watch a school bus full of eight-year-olds turn into a fireball, and people will hate you for it. You'll hate yourself for it.\n\n\"You'll hear about a sinkhole that's about to open up under a crowded city, and you'll go and try to keep as many people safe as possible. You'll tear yourself into ten pieces trying to hold up buildings and put out fires, and people will still die. And the news. The news will say *you* opened the fucking sinkhole.\"\n\nI pause to look at the tarp.\n\n\"You'll hear about idiot scientists toying with viruses and screwing up. You'll go to ground zero and tell them how it has to be. They'll beg for their lives, but you know that if they leave the building the infection will spread and wipe out millions. They show you pictures of their wives and children, and grovel on their hands and knees. They'll apologize to you, like you're God and can forgive them. And then you'll snap their necks, because it *has* to be done, and you *have* to do it because you're *special.*\n\n\"And the people won't say, 'He prevented an outbreak!' They'll say, 'He killed twenty-seven scientists!' You think your fans will save you, but the screams of terror are always louder than the screams of joy.\"\n\nI'm not sure how much of this he's taking in, because I can't look at him anymore. I don't even care. Let him make his own mistakes now, I've said what I needed to say.\n\nI relax the strings, pull them back in. He doesn't dash at me again. He doesn't move.\n\nI lower myself to the ground, and then, for the first time in my life, I point the strings at myself. I aim into my own chest, flex my fingers.\n\nI tear myself apart."
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[WP] A criminal is caught and sentenced to death but lives. Authorities redo the execution and once again it fails.
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"He was a nobody, his crime: being in the wrong place at the wrong time. He was walking to the gas station to pick up some cigarettes. He ended up walking in on a robbery.\n\nAs he walked to the chair for the second time he though about the solitude of his death. With his parents gone, no siblings to speak of, and his friends moved away long ago, who would miss him?\n\nThe gas station attendant was a shifty eyed, aged man currently with his hands in the air. The two men in ski masks held matching Glock 19's like punks who had watched too many gangster movies. There was a blonde woman sitting on the ground against the shelves behind them, dressed business casual with a white blouse.\n\nHe phased back in to what was happening again. \"...and though I walk through the valley...\" The priest went on and on just like the last time. 'They better get it right this time' he muses, 'I don't want to listen to this bullshit again'.\n\nWhen he walked in the attention of the robbers turned to him, guns still pointing at the attendent. They yelled and started to tell him to get on the ground. That's when it happened. The attendant suddenly reaches under the counter and grabs a loaded shotgun, points it at the nearest gunman, and fires it. One.\n\nHe was being strapped into the chair. Nice and tight. 'Just the way that I like it' he thinks sarcastically, it might not have been an appropriate time to be sarcastic but he was trying to stave of the feeling of panic and fear that impending death brings.\n\nYou could tell that it was a buckshot. The way that the bullets hit the gunman and the shelves behind him. Knocked back into the shelves behind him he drops his gun. The second gunman did not even hesitate to pull the trigger on the attendant. Two.\n\nThe sound of the generators charging up was quite a sound to hear. It was almost like a hummingbird flapping if it's wings could make a sound at 100 decibels.\n\nHe dropped to the ground the instant he saw the shotgun. Looking up only to see the second gunman drag his partner out the door. Three. It was over in three seconds. He looks around dazed and sees the woman on the ground in her red blouse, bleeding out. Full of adrenaline and anger he runs over to where the gunman dropped his gun. Runs outside and fires a full clip in the general direction that the gunmen drove.\n\nThe Guards asked him if he had any last words. \"Get it right this time!\" he yells annoyed. The last time he had been asked that question he believed that he had a much better answer, \"Good people always believe they are right, don't they\".\n\nThe cops saw him sitting on the curb, gun in hand, two people behind him dead. He was innocent, they did not know that.\n\nHe begins to pray, 'God, If you are up there. I am an innocent man I hope you know that'. The Guard turns the key. 'Please help me'. The guard presses the button. Everything goes dark.\n\nThe generator went out again.",
"The first failed execution was liberal gold- especial after the video leak went viral. Finally, Human rights and capital punishment became apart of the public conversation. But then the second execution failed... Without any explanation, mind you. And to top it off the prisoner escapes. At first it was the typical cable news 24/7 coverage- but then all of a sudden Magic and sorcery became a valid explanation. I'm not sure if the witch allegations started as a joke or as a serious concern but it turned into mass hysteria. The only good thing was that the riots weren't on a color line- but a magic line. Finally when the prisoner was apprehended- public opinion demanded a witch trial- to determine if the prisoner is eligible for a human trial. Currently, the top philosophers, scientists and religious world leaders are consulting the justice department. "
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[WP] A voice from the sky booms, "PLOT TWIST." The world changes dramatically.
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"I steadily applied the brakes as I rolled up to the stop light.\n\nMuffled by the window glass, I heard a cry. Louder than a gunshot, \"New meta! New meta!\"\n\nThe car hunkered down on its suspension as 2-inch steel plate armor spread over the body. The wheel grew an array of buttons for dispatching missiles, triggering machine guns, dropping mines, and dispensing oil slicks. The hazard switch's logo was replaced with a blue force-field logo. The speedometer shrank to accommodate another 100 MPH, and the HUD marked the old fin-bearing car in front of me as an enemy.\n\nI pulled the machine gun trigger.",
"Have you ever taken something for granted? Of course you have. But was it something like the laws of physics? \n\nI remember the day clearly. It was raining heavily, and then i heard it, we all heard it. i thought it was thunder at first, a loud boom that cracked through the sky. \"Plot Twist.\" \n\nThink of technology and science like a sort of system. It has rules and we build upon those unchanging rules. But what if they were to change? Simple calculations would mean nothing. \n\nAfter the voice, the rain began to pool... outwards. A thin 1-inch layer that constantly expanded in all directions independent of gravity. It continued for days. Nobody drowned, they just got their socks wet. Only their socks, not their shoes. \n\nThat's okay though, because you can swim in a brick wall sometimes. Burgundy bricks to be precise. Not to be confused with maroon bricks which, although rectangular, roll like wheels. \n\nNow when the sun sets, it lights up the underside of the world so that the ground glows slightly and gets warm. Or it rises on the other side of the sky at the same time, as if there where two suns. \n\nNothing ever repeats itself. The other day i spilled a basket of oranges i was carrying, and they just kept coming out. I counted nearly 300 oranges before it was done. It hasnt happened to anybody since. \n\nAnd the worst part is: there isnt any reason to it. No explanation. No meaning behind it. Because that would indicate a plan of some sort. And there is no plan. The twist is that the universe is anarchy. Sometimes. ",
"“Shhhh, Percy~!” I exclaim, pulling him down under the poorly-made cot that we’ve been using, cursing myself for taking so long on my run today. dozens of figures circle our hideout. Well, a run-down gas station, but that’s as good as any. We both gaze up at the open door to the actual store area. I couldn’t close it or they’d hear it. Turning to Percy, I motion for him to relax. We’re gonna hafta wait them out-they’ll leave in the morning. He silently groans in response, pulling out a toy dinosaur and I roll my eyes. If he didn’t insist on his replacement teddy bear I would’ve been done sooner! Putting my earbuds in, I close my eyes and slowly bob to the music. Some punk tune. At least we’re in the break-room, and not in the actual store. We’d be screwed then-with all of the windows. Still, I feel bad for him... At least I remember what things were like before the incident....Every time I ask him, he just shrugs. Poor kid doen’t know what he missed. \n\nMaybe it’s for the better though-he can’t get as sad remembering playing at a playground with friends. He doesn’t remember the terrible curfew put in place. The screams....\n\n\n\nConfused? Well, don’t be!-around fourteen years ago something happened. Something really weird happened. I still remember it. I was five years old, and I insisted that I wanted to go to the library. Anyway I bugged and bugged my mom and she finally took me. I spent hours there and eventually we went outside to play, the playground was just around the corner. I was on the swingset, and my mom was sitting on a bench just watching me like normal when all of a sudden the sky darkened REALLY fast and a voice boomed in a voice so dark I jumped “PLOT TWIST!”. I freaked and ran to my mom, and we headed home immediately. The sky went back to it’s normal sunny glow within a half hour and everything went back to normal. Or so it seemed.\n\n Well, the media went apeshit trying to figure out what had happened. No one had any explanation for the whole world hearing a scary voice from the sky. Naturally the media pointed to special effects and some bunch of teens who spent all of their free time in their basement took the blame-they didn’t care, in fact they just seemed to love the fact that they were being talked about. I can’t blame them, if I was in their shoes I’d probably play it off too. In the end it was laughed at for a bit, like, hahaha some teens got us good!\n\nAfter months of goofing around with what happened, the public eventually all but forgot about it. The teens were big fat nothings again and the spotlight moved back to the next big thing. Some celebrity losing a huge amount of weight or yet another government corruption found.\n\nThen the cases started up.\n\nIt was pretty isolated at first, the police clearing it up fast and that was that. BUT then the police eventually told family members, and they would tell friends, and the chain continued. I hate to say it, but I kinda wish the government just went out with it. Like ripping a band-aid. I have a feeling that less would have died. Maybe communities could’ve properly formed.\n\nInstead, some police and other officials went ‘missing’. That didn’t help. It was too late.\n\nNightmares were legitimately becoming reality. Well, thoughts were. \n\nThe government caged them up at first, because you can’t really kill a thought, but that didn’t work.\n\nCurfews were put in place-for some reason the nightmares don’t like the daylight. When day comes they just stand like a statue. Eyes open, watching. As soon as night falls they jerk back to life, off to torment whoever they can find, sucking the life out of them. Literally, they find you and hold you down, sucking all cognoscente thoughts from your brain. In the end, you’re left a shell. Then they have fun playing with that shell-it varies from each nightmare. Some just beat you up, some experiment, other do unspeakable acts. After they leave what’s left of you to decompose, moving on to the next soul that they stumble across.\n\nThat, of course, didn’t work. Mainly because people were now thinking about them. Thinking about their fears. You see, that’s how they come. How they’re born. When a person focuses on they’re fears, makes them paranoid-like many were now becoming,thanks to the governments being so hush-hush-Then they appear. They form at night, the easiest time to feed. My mom was one of those people. In order to avoid that I read and listen to music ALL the time, I even occasionally write when I stumble across some pens and a pad of paper. Percy is constantly playing with toys I scavenge, or coloring. The best thing you can do is just keep your mind preoccupied, if you can do that, you can prevent it from spreading any more.\n\nEventually everything fell. Rioting started, and NOT the peaceful kind. The ‘Let’s-break-curfew-because-how-dare-they’ kind, which escalated everything. Soon looting began, random acts of violence. A lot of people ended up committing suicide. Whole towns, even. \n\nEverything fell.\n\nMy dad died right after the fall. I was nine. Luckily a couple of neighbors took me in, and we started to move. Trying to find others who survived. NO, who were surviving-and we did. A small community in Atlanta. Pretty nice. At least at first. The in fighting screwed everyone over. Some pissed off member had a little too much booze and ‘forgot’ to lock the gates. The nightmares soon came and attacked. I was able to escape, taking Percy with me. He was only two. I lost my guardians, and wandered. We’ve been bouncing from place to place ever since-for six years now. Only ran into a couple of people since the community. I really believe we might be the last ones. \n\nOpening my eyes, I look over at Percy. He’s curled up, silently snoring. After enjoying the sight for a minute I snuggle next to him and rest my head. If they could’ve gotten in they would’ve, and we’d already be dead. With a smile I close my eyes, dreaming of the next place we’ll be crashing.\n\n\n\nHoping it won’t be our last.",
"Ever get to some part of your life that's taken you goddamn years, *decades*, and then just- poof, gone, \"Fuuuuuuck you!\", God throws a switch and kicks you off the stairs and into a ditch? It's been fourteen years since that happened, and I pray every day to gods I didn't believe in that it never happens again. \n\nMy brother was about to propose to his wife, one knee and diamond ring and all, when it happened. She'd fallen to her knees with him, and begged forgiveness for a secret so long withheld. Her twist was that she'd been a man; his was that he, an unusually homophobic and hateful man, still wanted to marry her. Kind of funny, that one, actually. Bit inspiring. \n\nMy parents was riding a Greyhound from Chi-Town to Florida, though; forty-one people on board, all quiet. Just about everybody sleeping in the early morning stretch through Tennessee. Somebody was a little fidgety, though, and, *surprise!* there goes the driver with a box cutter. The madman throws the wheel into oncoming traffic and rolls her. Dad and seven others didn't make it; mom's okay, though. She's remarried, living with the gentlest damn soul I've ever seen.\n\nThe one I can't get over, that apparently *no one* can get over, was my own. I share it with a few thousand, actually. I was on the phone with my wife, asking her how she was doing at work- *boring as hell, as usual* -when it came through. I didn't hear it on my end, like everyone else did, being in a thick-ass studio, but I heard it through the phone. \"PLOT TWIST,\" like some demon was bellowing from the pit of hell. It couldn't have been God booming down from the sky- God doesn't fuck people up like that. \n\nOne of my clients snapped a string and cut up his tendons or nerves or something in his fingertips; couldn't play ever again, I heard. Poor bastard. I told my wife with a little bit of a shaky laugh that I'd definitely gotten my plot twist. She laughed, too, telling me they'd just had a bit of a shake. \n\nThen she told me it was getting *really* jumpy over there. Then the line cut out. \n\nOne of the engineers pulled me pretty hard into the lobby of our studio, and everybody was staring at the tube like fucking cartoon characters, eyes wide and jaws hanging. They'd pulled me in just in time to see everything fall apart.\n\nMy boss told me, the *next damn day*, that he'd walked in on his wife with another man when she was drunk. Told me it was the *worst possible pain* he could *ever* feel. I laughed and laughed at his sorry ass until I was on the floor, sobbing. What a fucking twist. ",
"\" password...\"\n\n\n\" bibliophilia\"\n\nthe door swung inward and opened into a long hallway. The man who answered the door a twisted spine and knarled knees and elbows, long scraggly hair and dusty clothing. He waved me inside and I followed him as he led me through the hallway. I almost lost count of the doors we passed when we stopped in front of one and he knocked.\n\n\n\"Come in!\"\n\n\nthe door creaked as it opened to reveal a room so full of books it would take forever to read every page. I certainly couldn't in my lifetime. A man barely tall enough to see over the desk jumped down and ran around it. \n\n\n\"I must shake the hand of the savior! Oh my goodness what an amazing honor.\"\n\n\nHe stood there staring into my face awestruck.\n\n\n\"So what was I summoned for? I received this notice that my services were needed at this address. but the circumstances are quite unusual.\"\n\n\nFor the next two hours I thought I was in a mad man's house. The next two hours after that I wanted to get out of there. After that I started to think I was going mad. Then he convinced me that what he was saying was the truth.\n\n\n\"So we are stuck in one of these books? We are actually from a place without magic?\"\n\n\n\"Yes\"\n\n\n\"And you are telling me that I have the power to break us out of here and back to our normal lives?\" \n\n\n\"Yes\"\n\n",
"Ours was a young world and by proxy, ruled over by a young God. We worshiped the sun, believing it to be the face of our God. Light-bringer. Warmth-Giver. Sustainer. Our existence was a simple one, but we were happy. \n\nIt was a terrible day when we heard the voice of our God. A reverberation began in the ground and then shook the very pillars of our belief. We threw ourselves prostrate before the mighty sun God even as it's voice called out to us, causing some among our number to go mad and tear at their ears. \n\nIt *laughed* at us. *Laughed* at our suffering. We had mistaken our God to be a bringer of light, the one who chased away the darkness, but a young God is a temperamental one and ours was still a child. \n\nThe changes came quickly. I was wracked with spasms as my body betrayed me, changed against my will. Patches of fur sprouted everywhere my flesh was exposed to that hateful light. My fingers dissolved, my eyes burned. I could feel those around me clawing at the ground ineffectually. Even the ground became a twisted comical shadow of what it once was. \n\nWhy had It forsaken us? What sin was so great that we were forced into this existence? \n\nI dared not look into a mirror once the spasms had passed. The world around me was changed. A hand on my shoulder caused me to recoil in fear, but the thing standing before me was a creature unlike anything I had ever seen before; Glossy black eyes, green fur, and a vicious horn sprouting from it's head. Was it a neighbor I once knew? Did I look the same?\n\n\"Tinky-Winky,\" I said, forming my first words upon alien lips. My hand, if you could call it that, was purple and swollen.\n\n\"Dipsy,\" The thing in front of me shook it's head solemnly.\n\nCurse the God's. I was still cursing them even as a strange music arose in the heavens, tinkling like a choir of demons upon my alien ears. My body betrayed me and I found myself compelled to prance around like an unruly child. Ours was a young world ruled over by a young God, but none among us knew what horrors truly awaited us. "
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[WP] As the CERN LHC is turned up to it's highest power level ever, a message spells itself out on the particle detector. "Go no further, or else..."
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"\"Ok, the data from the other detectors has been analysed. They're seeing the same thing as us at 12.97 TeV. It's five sigma now, no doubt. There's a signal there.\"\n\nJerry sat back in his chair, exhaling deeply, staring out of the window of the conference room at the mountains outside. He took a moment to think about the news he had just received. Many people dream of making history; few are given the chance to actually do so. This was most definitely the chance to make history, and goddammit he was going to step up. He re-focussed his attention on the researcher who had brought him this news and, with a wry smile, said \"well, what are we waiting for; let's get this thing analysed!\"\n\n...\n\nHere it was. Finally the first portion of the signal had been analysed. It was unbelievable really, an unmistakable, unwavering pattern in the radiation emitted from collisions with a center of mass energy of 12.97 TeV. Everything in modern physics said this should not be possible, could not be possible. A collision of this nature should produce a randomised radiation pattern... and yet, there it was, the same pattern every single time.\n\nThey had gotten everyone on it, of course. Everyone. Previous divisions were forgotten, experiments planned for years canned in a second. Nobody could think of anything more important than this signal. Everyone had worked round the clock, giving all that they had. And here they finally were.\n\n\"Ok everyone, if I could bring this meeting to order please.\" \n\nJerry's voice wavered slightly with the knowledge of the magnitude of the information he was about to dispense to the audience of several thousand scientists, but he continued nonetheless. \n\n\"As you are all well aware, it has been discovered that a unique pattern of radiation is produced in collisions at precisely 12.97 TeV. Not only is this pattern produced in every collision at the energy without exception, it also appears to contain coherent information; a signal, with content.\"\n\nJerry paused, sweeping his gaze around the room. All eyes were on him. Nobody moved. \n\n\"The information density is incredible, just barely below Shannon's limit, so as you can imagine we've barely scratched the surface in terms of analysing this signal. The information is encoded in multiple layers, each building upon the last. The first layer contains a series of prime numbers followed by a series of pulses. I am here to tell you today that we have figured out that those pulses are tied to the prime numbers. Using the prime numbers as a key, we have been able to determine that the pulses are, for want of a better word, an alphabet.\"\n\nJerry stopped speaking to allow the magnitude of this announcement to sink in. The awestruck expressions on the faces in front of him told him that the members of the audience needed more than the moment he was allowing them, but he pressed on. The best was yet to come.\n\n\"We have used this alphabet to decode the second layer of the signal. It turned out to contain a message. This message reads: go no further, or else...\"\n\nAt this murmurs began propagating through the audience. People turned to their neighbours, wondering if this was a joke. Some looked ready to challenge Jerry, so he quickly pressed on.\n\n\"We couldn't believe this at first either, but every single independent analysis of this signal comes to this same conclusion. Ladies and gentlemen, we are being warned by an unknown agent to cease increasing the energy in our experiments. This agent has written this message into the very fabric of the universe. And we think we know why.\"\n\nAt this, many members of the audience could no longer contain themselves and began directing loudly voiced questions at Jerry. Raising his voice to drown out the questions, Jerry continued.\n\n\"We have been able to analyse the third layer of the signal. It contains equations, and not just any equations. It contains all of the equations known in modern physics, plus one extra.\"\n\nThe increasingly rowdy audience was struck dumb at this pronouncement. One voice shouted \"which equations?\"\n\n\"Every equation you can think of. Maxwell's equations, Einstein's equations, the Schrodinger equation... you name it, it's in there. But this isn't what interests us. The presence of these known equations leads us to believe that the other equation in this layer of the signal also describe our universe. In fact, it appears to be THE equation that describes our universe, as best we can tell from the work we have done so far. If this is correct, we have an explanation for the warning in the preceding level.\"\n\nJerry activated a projector. Behind him a graph appeared. Jerry indicated to the left-hand portion of the graph.\n\n\"As you can see in this regime, the predictions of the equation are identical to the equations of known physics.\"\n\nJerry moved the laser pointer to a vertical dividing line on the graph.\n\n\"This line indicates a collision energy of 13.0 TeV, just beyond the maximum collision energy that we have run the LHC at to date. Above this energy... well, things get a bit weird. However, there are tenuous indications that a spontaneous phase transition occurs at 13.0 TeV; that is, the vacuum transitions to a different, lower energy state. Now I am sure that I don't need to tell you what that would mean for our universe, but given the magnitude of this situation it would be remiss if I did not spell this out: if a phase transition does occur, running the LHC at 13.0 TeV will cause an unstoppable transition to a lower energy state to propagate outwards through spacetime at the speed of light. We will literally overwrite our own universe with another and it will be too fast for us to even see it coming, never mind stop it.\"\n\n\"There is, however, another interpretation of this equation. Instead of a phase transition, it may be that the equation is describing a localised distortion in spacetime; that is, a gateway to the multiverse\".\n\nJerry paused.\n\n\"However, we don't understand this new equation anywhere near well enough to be sure which of these scenarios will actually come to pass, and without experimental data in the 13.0 TeV regime we likely never will.\"\n\nJerry stopped, letting the magnitude of this dilemma sink in. He looked at his notes, then slowly back up at the audience.\n\n\"The question now is; do we continue?\"\n ",
"\"Shit a smartphone and shove it up my ass, Denise\", Dr. Pratt uttered, eyes fixed on the piece of paper in front of his eyes. \"This is unbelievable.\"\n\nSarah laughed. She usually frowned upon her boss's dirty mouth, but today… today the bad words were justified. \n\"The team's all assembled, waiting for your orders\", she said. \"And my name's Sarah, boss. I tell you that every \nmorning since two thousand and three.\"\n\n\"Run it again. Definitely run it again!\"\n\n\"Right away, sir.\"\n\n\"And get the president on the phone.\"\n\nWith a smile, Sarah turned her back on Dr. Pratt and started making way back to the lab, barely able to get two thoughts together.\n\nIt was insane news, in fact. Shit-a-smartphone-and-shove-it-up-my-ass news. Call-the-president-news.\n\n*Particles are talking*, she thought, fast stepping her way through the long, white corridor that lead back to the \nLHC's main hall, where her team – Dr. Pratt's team – awaited.\n\n*Particles saying 'Go no further*, she thought. People were going to think it's God, she was sure. What with all that \nHiggs Boson 'God Particle' bullshit, even. People would definitely think it was God talking to us, humans, from the LHC.\n\nSarah knew the truth was, much more likely, that this was an attempt of communication by another species. Alien. \nMaybe from the future? Who knew?\n\nNot that this made the news boring in any way. In fact, Sarah always figured aliens were way cooler than God.\n\nBut there's no way people wouldn't think this was God saying science has gone too far, she was sure. Religious folks, they are dying for a reason. People see Jesus in toasts, for Christ's sake. There was going to be protest. People will demand they stop. Demand they close the LHC. Demand they do exactly the opposite of what Dr. Pratt had just ordered her to do.\n\n*Which is why he told us to run it again before calling the president*, she figured. Pratt was a brilliant man.\n\nUtterly insane, of course, and weirdly found of Brie Cheese. But brilliant.\n\n\"What's the word, Sarah?\" Deckard asked, the second the automatic doors opened in front of Sarah to the main hall. Everyone in the room was standing still, staring at her.\n\n\"Run it\", she said, and cheering ran all across the room. \"He says run it again.\"\n\n\"Right away, ma'm\", Deckard answered, with a smile. Sarah made way to the second floor balcony, climbing the \nmetal steps two-by-two. Barely able to contain her own excitement – but making a point to look professional to \neveryone she passed by – she found her way across the open corridor to the far edge. She leaned against the rail to \nwatch the show.\n\nThe room she was in was large and circular, like a gigantic hollow penis.\n\n*This is a terrible way to describe this room*, Sarah thought. It was, in fact, large and circular, but not like a \nhollow penis. It was more like you'd imagine the setting for a boss fight in Metal Gear Solid would be. A wide, computer-filled first floor, topped by a circular metal balcony that ran all around by the wall it twenty feet up. Sarah was standing on the edge of this second floor balcony, watching as the team prepared the collision.\n\n\"Quite a view\", she heard, from behind her.\n\n\"What? Oh, hi, Dr. Pratt.\"\n\nPratt leaned next to her, biting onto a piece of white cheese. \"Brie?\" He asked.\n\n\"No, thanks\", Sarah answered.\n\n\"I wouldn't have given it to you anyway. Don't you sometimes feel like life has no purpose and you could murder a \nchild randomly and, in the great scheme of things, it wouldn't matter at all?\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"I said I like the spring weather\", Pratt said, smiling. Sarah shrugged, shaking her head with a smile. She had learned long ago to ignore the Doctor's weirdness. Everyone in the lab had. Dr. Pratt was weird. Really weird.\n\nHe once adopted a cow and kept it in his office for two months. A full grown cow.\n\nOnce he screamed for twenty minutes at a pencil sharpener. In Latin. And he doesn't know Latin.\n\nDuring the year of 2010, he didn't speak vowels. \n\nDr. Pratt was weird. A genius. But a weird one.\n\n\"All set\", came a voice from downstairs. \"Ready? Three… Two…\"\n\nSarah glanced at the Doctor. He had his eyes fixed on the mainframe downstairs, chewing onto the cheese.\n\n\"One… Go!\"\n\nOff it went, with a loud hiss noise. The big screen downstairs flashed alive in white. For the first few seconds, nothing happened.\n\nThen a loading screen. The collision was complete. Sarah glanced at Dr. Pratt again. The Brie was over.\n\nOnscreen, words appeared:\n\n\"For fuck's sake, guys. I'm coming down there.\"\n\nThen, after a few seconds:\n\n\"This is God by the way. Assholes.\"\n\nSarah risked a third glance at Dr. Pratt. He was smiling.\n\nThen a flash of light from the sky and the sound of thunder, and Sarah was on the floor.\n\n"
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[WP] Profess your love for someone without professing your love
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"I enjoy that I can awaken with the smell of you on the sheets, and reach out for you, less than an arm's length away. Of course, I do not wake you. I would be content to watch you dream, and wait for you to join me in the waking world.\n\nI know your favorite kind of coffee, the exact amount of milk ingrained into muscle memory when I prepare you a cup every morning before we each leave for work. We have the kind of relationship where I would sometimes see you standing over me, having set an earlier alarm, with two cups in hand; you would be generous with the sugar and cream, because that's how I like it.\n\nWhen I drop you off at the station, the image of you walking away in your maroon heals and black pea coat is the picture I frame in my mind to get me through the day. I anticipate when I will see that same figure approach me at the end of a 9 to 5 shift, to wipe away the dirt of the day and remind me why it is that I continue to keep moving forward.\n\nI forever associate the smell of tomato sauce with your smile, because that is the only thing you know how to cook. It's always perfect, with the right amount of sugar added to the pot. You joke that I could have married a better chef, but there is no one else that I want to make my spaghetti for me. All the same, I would wish for no other to nag at my own inability to buy the right milk from the supermarket.\n\nEvery stereotypical song on the radio I enjoy breaking apart, picking the golden lines from the rest like diamonds in the rough. I take them so that I may one day sing you a song, a lyrical patchwork quilt of the tunes you hum in the shower. These are the songs that we burn onto CDs, the music that fills the air at the start of our evening dinners. They are the ones that fall silent when I shut them off, because every inch of your skin is a holy grail I've got to find.\n\nAnd when we have exhausted ourselves and slip into the comforting quiet of companionship, nothing can break the peace. I am weary from the brunt of the day, of the wear of the world, but I am soothed by the sight of your head on the pillow next to mine. \n\nLiterature tells me the warmth in my chest is the meaning of human existence. We wander our lifespans on a mass of water and land to find someone worth changing ourselves for the better. As I enjoy the lingering scent of orange shampoo in your hair, I hold this conviction close to my heart, and I fall asleep to the even pattern of your breaths.",
"I dreamed a dream as I did sleep,\n\nMalvina, oh Malvina.\n\nAnd in my dreams, I did not weep.\n\nMalvina comfort me...\n\nI saw her there, all dressed in blue,\n\nMalvina, oh Malvina.\n\nAnd tender pangs, my heart did drew.\n\nMalvina comfort me...\n\nI ask but one more thing of thee,\n\nMalvina, oh Malvina.\n\nSay the words, and let me free.\n\nMalvina comfort me...\n\nLet me live and let me die,\n\nMalvina, oh Malvina.\n\nLet me go pass by on by.\n\nMalvina comfort me...\n\nI've done great wrong all in my life,\n\nMalvina, oh Malvina.\n\nBut greatest all, you were not my wife.\n\nMalvina comfort me..."
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[WP] It's the most heated football game in all time. Team Asgard vs Team Olympus
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"\"Okay, gentlemen, we're here in the Abrahamic Heaven, and this is Gary Lineker, Titan of Knowledge Prometheus, Goddess of Love Lofi, and me, your host, Gareth Barry. Gary, why is it just ex-Everton players in the human commentary?\"\n\n\"To be honest, Gareth, we've had word from the Muses that the cosmic writer of our tale couldn't think of any players who haven't been on the Blue's roster, as he doesn't keep up with football that much. We also don't sound like our real world counterparts, whatever that means.\"\n\n\"Thank you Gary. We'll discuss the teams in a moment, but first, we have a live feed to the manager of the Olympians, Zeus, son of Chronos!\"\n\n*\"Do not mention the name Chronos to me, mortal.\"* Zeus boomed, while his face was gnarled in a cruel rage on the screen.\n\n\"So tell us, Zeus,\" started Prometheus, \"How do you intend to win this match? Near as we can tell, none of you have any experience with football. The Norse at least were in Britain when the precursor involving an inflated pig's bladder was just starting.\"\n\n*\"The principle and mechanics are simple enough. Athena has come up with a good strategy for the team, and we are ready for whatever challenge Odin's lot have planned.\"*\n\n\"Bold claims, from a team that has never played, but then neither have the other side. Good to hear from you Zeus. Now, let's go the pitch side, and speak to our man on the ground here, David Beckham.\"\n\n\"I have no idea why I am here, guys.\" moaned David.\n\n\"How's the turnout, David?\" asked Lofi, sweetly.\n\n\"Surprisingly human, it seems. Looks like it's the Norse with the most eclectic bunch of non-humans... I can see some Svaltabar, and that's definitely their adoptive god Lolth spectating. There's also a few dwarves on their side too. The Greeks though, they seem to be mostly really oiled muscle men in chitons. I'm guessing they're heroes and demigods then?\"\n\n\"Actually, David, most of the ones towards the top are actually lesser Gods,\" said Prometheus, \"The rest are various people linked to the Gods. If you'll look to the one on the left there, you'll see Oedipus with his mother, lovely couple of humans there... Oh, and in the area next to the bar, is the Zeus' Mortal Flings club, they're lovely as humans go, big on bird watching and bullfighting, usually.\"\n\n\"Yeah, this is weird, guys. Can I go home now, or are we stuck spectating a football match until it's over, that we're not even getting paid for?\" asked David.\n\n\"We're stuck, David. We don't exist as we do in the 'real world' as our current selves so if we were released, we would simply cease to be,\" muttered Gareth into his microphone, \"But at least they'll cater for our every need while we're up here. I've got a nymph getting me a latte as I speak!\"\n\n\nAnd so, after a lot of meandering and talky scenes that are hard to write, football happened, which is even harder to write.\n\nThe Greeks won 5-3 but Loki was sent off for Fouling, Medusa was a terrible goalkeeper because she couldn't see the ball without petrifying her team, and nobody was sure why Thor thought the game was supposed to be played on goatback and by hitting the ball with your hammer, as if it was a heavy metal version of polo.\n\n",
"The gauntlet had been thrown down by the Asgardians, I knew that much. I think it all started when Loki tricked Zeus, but with both of them always transforming into animals when it's time to get their rocks off, it's hard to say. Zeus had definitely blamed it on Loki, at any rate.\n\nIt started off as threats of a full blown war--which had, of course, left me thrilled. The soldiers of the modern world don't invoke the name of Ares very often, unfortunately. Eventually, through the droll arts of negotiation and diplomacy, the gods of Asgard and Olympus had reached a compromise, as brokered by the neutral parties in the British Isles. A sporting event would decide who was wrong. One called \"Football.\" As we put our team together, I started to see the appeal of the game. It was a match of strategy and tactics, intense planning and quick reactions. And the violence! Of all the sports on Earth, this Football had to be the most violent. Powerful men smashing into one another, wearing thick armor and helmets. It reminded me so much of the glory days of Sparta. I felt at home for the first time in over two millennia!\n\nThough I had only my brothers on Mount Olympus with which to create the team, I found them surprisingly adequate. Hermes made an excellent runningback, and Heracles had been breaking through phalanxes since he was but a child; no Football formation could dare to stop him. And who better to act as quarterback than I?\n\nOur victory was assured. I knew it. And the day we met the Asgardians on the field arrived at last... but they came with no helmets, no chestplates. They tried to lay this black and white sphere out on the field, and claim that it was Football! It was a trick by that runt, Loki. It had to be. I grabbed him by his feeble neck and held him close.\n\n\"What manner of tomfoolery is this, Trickster?\" I bellowed. Thor appeared like lightning, and I dropped his scrawny brother. It would be more enjoyable to face a worthy foe.\n\n\"The deception is on the part of you Olympians. You come to a sporting match dressed for battle? What fresh cowardice is this?\" Thor's hand opened, and that overgrown mallet he calls a weapon came to rest in it. Heracles began facing off with Heimdall, and I could feel the bloodlust growing on both sides. Perhaps we'd get a real war after all.\n\n\"Uh, Ares...\" I heard from behind. Apollo's voice was strong, but without the desire for conflict that emanated from everyone else. \"Before you try to smash Thor's face in, perhaps you should look up to the stadium.\"\n\nI was loathe to break eye contact with my enemy so close, but as Apollo insisted, Thor and I agreed to a moment's truce. As we gazed up into the stands, there were three spectators: that mischievous sprite, Puck, sharing a bucket of Popped Corn with Loki and Hermes while the three infamous tricksters enjoyed their greatest plot of all time."
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It is a challenge to make something like that interesting... SO CHALLENGE! GOOD LUCK YA'LL!
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[WP] Write a story with uber simple sentinces. (Like see spot run, ect.)
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"Mr.O works in a factory. It is an old building. Its walls are made entirely of gray stone. Many things are made in Mr.O's factory.\n\nMany things that are bought by many people. People who live out their lives beyond its walls. People who work at the factory. Even people that make the things inside. The things that workers do not make.\n\nThese things are only for Mr.O's eyes. Made in his lab by hand. He sells them as one of a kinds. Mr.O's delicious pies. They say they're addictive.\n\nIt really is no wonder though. Lately Mr.O has had to change his source. It really is too bad however, that the customer should suffer for it. But then again sales are up.\n\nMr.O's factory is well known and prosperous. For good reason; many things are made there and many things sold. Not the least of which are his amazing pies. Tonight though, he will need to get more ingredients. \n\nTonight, Mr.O will be visiting the slums again.\n\nEdit: Clarity.\n",
"See that hill? There is a house on the hill. It is a small house. It is a hut.\n\nUnder the hut is a cave. On top is a trap door. The trap door is wooden. The steps into the cave are wooden. The floor of the cave is rough. The walls of the cave are like glass. They glow. It is a faint glow. The glow lets you see. There is a tunnel in the cave.\n\nThe tunnel is made of carved stone. The floor of the tunnel is made of stone slabs. Strange marks are on the tunnel. Some of the marks make words. Care. Slow. Secret. The marks are very old. \n\n You can walk on the slabs. The slabs move. The tunnel closes behind you. The tunnel opens in front of you. You can go forward. There is a door. The door is carved from stone. There are three triangles on the door. You can push the triangles. You push them all together. The door will open.\n\nBehind the door is a room. In the room is a box. The box is made of metal. The metal glows. The cave glows green. The metal box glows blue. The top of the box is glass. Inside is a monster. The monster has three arms. The monster has three hands. The hands are like triangles. \n\nThere are marks on the box. Some of the marks make words. Help. Hurt. Cold. There are buttons on the box. You can turn around. You can leave. The tunnel will open. You can walk back out.\n\nThe house is for sale. It is cheap. Do you want it?",
"Three little friends. Imagination. Dreams. Laughter.\n\nA stick was a sword. The wind was dragon's breath. Leaves dancing were fairies. The ground was lava!\n\nThe sun would go down. Off home they rush. Waiting for tomorrow.\n\nThe three grew older. Still carrying sticks. It helped them walk.\n\nThey'd remember the dragons. The swords. The laughter.\n\nThe park changed. New children. New dreams. Sitting on the bench, three old children would smile.\n\nUntil one day. Just two of them met. Not smiling. The memory still sticks.\n\nA new morning came. Now there was just one. Alone, watching the leaves dance. Sighing slowly until the sun went down.\n\nAn empty bench. No more dragons in the wind. The dreams are gone.\n\n\n\nA laugh in the distance. A small child runs. He sits on the bench. A stick in his hand.\n\nSomewhere. Three old friends are smiling. New adventures to watch. From a bench. Somewhere.",
"I see her. She walks towards me. Long legs, pencil skirt, blue blouse. Stands by me. Doors close. She smiles. She always does. White teeth, pink lips. The elevator rises. Floor arrives. She leaves. I follow. I watch. \n\nLunch hour. She gets coffee. She always does. Two cream, four sugar. She blows over the mug. Takes a sip. Relief in her eyes. I watch. \n\nFive o’clock. Rustling papers. Squeaking chairs. People leave. So does she. Long legs, pencil skirt, blue blouse. She walks to her car. I watch. \n\nI follow her. Two cars behind. Doesn’t notice. Never does. I park down the street. She walks inside her home. The light inside turns on. Her silhouette small against the curtains. She goes to the kitchen. She always does. Her face is calm through the window. I watch. \n\nI go home. Small house. Cookie cutter. Take off my shoes. Undo my tie. Open my scrap book. Hundreds of pictures of her. Shopping for groceries. Dresses. Car maintenance. Nails. Hair. Flip through the pages. Perfection. Mine. One day. Until then. I watch. \n"
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[WP] Write about the metamorphosis of a human to....anything, whether it be another human, animal, or even object.
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"(Based off Elder Scrolls Lore) \n\nI performed the rituals I saw in my visions. Hircine. The God of the Hunt. His voice resonated like a grizzled howl in a distant valley. The words commanding me to his service. He offered me a choice not many others were given. Hunt by his side for the rest of eternity in the Hunting Grounds, his Realm of Oblivion... or be the prey.\n\nSo I began the Nirn-bound rituals he described. I hunted the Spectral Stag of the Blackwood. I collected the taproot and the briarhearts. I summoned a dremora using my limited knowledge of conjuration, and slew it, cutting free it's heart as well. I brought all these items, as well as the antlers of the Stag back to my home. \n\nI lived in small cabin, nestled in the Colovian Highlands. The area was beautiful, but the hunt was usually small game. Occasionally a minotaur made it's way out, and I was able to have my fun poaching it. However, tonight, I'd settle in to a deep sleep, and light the incense of I made out of spriggan sap and bear claws. This would put me into a trance once more to commune with Hircine. I drifted away, easily, into a slumber.\n\nI grew conscious of my form, lying on a grassy surface. I stood, and noted that I stood upon some hill, in a land distant from the Highlands. I looked around, and for miles upon miles, all I could see were plains, with occasional forests peppered about, and small rivers and streams scattered about. There were hawks flying, and deer running. Bunnies and other small beasts roamed freely. They seemed at peace... until a great roar was heard. It was the loudest, and most fearsome sound I'd ever been witness to. All the beasts ran for cover. I felt a distinct sense of fear creeping into my body. \n\nFrom a large forest, down a couple hundred yards from the steep hill I stood, I saw the monster emerge. It lumbered, almost apelike, dragging it's large, scaled hands behind it. It's legs were powerful, it's back looked strong, and all over it was covered in leathery scales and spiny spikes. It's head was that of a crocodile, and yet it's eyes were almost human. I have no doubt that the creature could crush bones easily with it's bite alone. Even more terrifying, it shook it's whole body, and with that movement, a white aura cascaded down it's hide. It was drawing upon some magic within, and bolstering it's flesh. \n\nIt luckily seemed to be chasing after something unseen. I was afraid to come up against that beast without my bow, at least. I watched it sprint for a lonely stand of trees. I noticed something let loose from the trees, but it was futile. The projectiles missed, or were deflected easily by the creature. It leapt into the stand of trees, while at the same time a small man fell out of the other side. He was clutching a shortbow, and as he frantically tried to get to his feet, I could see him sliding another arrow from his quiver, to try and knock it before the beast approached.\n\nIt was all too late, though. The beast unleashed a bolt of fire from it's maw, and it blasted the bow from the mans hands. He stumbled back, his hands singed. The beast jumped high, and landed on the man. It wasted no time ending the hunt.\n\n\"I see you have fetched all the items I requested of you, Hunter.\" A voice boomed from behind me. I turned, and there he was, in the skins of the beasts he'd hunted, a great set of antlers perched on his head. He was awesome, and terrifying to behold, and I was overwhelmed. \n\n\"My Lord Hircine. I would do no less than the best for you. I seek to hunt, and nothing more, and nothing less.\" I spoke.\n\n\"Good. Then here is what you must do, to become my Hunter in the realm of Nirn.\" His voice erupted like a cannon. \"Prepare a large vessel, and in it place the prize you have taken from the greatest beast you have ever hunted. Then, grind up the Stags antlers, and add it. After that, you will place the briarheart within. Taking the daedra heart you claimed, you will drench the contents within the vessel with the foul blood, and speak my name three times into the vessel. Once you have performed this, you will take your dagger, and cut out your own heart. Fear not, my magics will keep you alive. But do not tarry, place the briarheart in it's place.\"\n\nI nodded, but as I blinked, I awoke with a start. I was in my cabin once more. I scrambled, ecstatic to perform this ritual. I was excited to become one of his Hunters within the Great Hunt. I readied the ritual exactly as he said, and I spoke the words. Even cutting out my own heart was easy.\n\nI placed the briarheart in the open wound. I wasn't saddened at all that I had to soil the hide I had taken from the massive boar from the Gold Coast. It was worth it to serve Hircine.\n\nI noticed the wound from my chest was sealing. It didn't hurt a bit. However, I noticed something else changing. My pale Imperial skin was beginning to darken... it was becoming harder, rougher. Fur was beginning to grow from my skin! I panicked. I pushed out of my front door, and saw the dawn settling over the world. My hands became gnarled claws. My face morphed, and I felt my nose becoming flatter. I rushed over to the water barrel, and saw the pig snout. Tusks formed, wicked and long. I grew to twice my size, and yet remained on my two legs. I was a hideous beast... but I was powerful.\n\n",
"For the first time in my life, I had the upper hand. Even more than Raymond.\n\nIn retrospect, he and I were similar. We were both small, weak, slow. I was only taller than him ever in the slightest. The only thing he had that was greater than mine was his intelligence. He won a contest three times in a row, and the fourth time, he got second.\n\nThen the accident happened.\n\nThe bus crash. A wreck of twisted metal, burning seats. Fortunately, everyone survived, but I was desperately needed organs. Luckily for me, some soldier in the army had his wished of becoming an organ donor fulfilled. I ended up with his guts inside mine. To be precise, his liver, some of his skin, a kidney, something about his pancreas and his heart, too. There were rumours that his brain made it in, but I'm not too sure. \n\nI was eternally grateful for what happened, but... something felt off in the weeks after the many operations. Sports that I liked playing now seemed boring. Others I began developing a taste for. Soccer was mundane at first, but now I really loved it.\n\nIt wasn't just that. My Cadets group was something I hated, but now, I seemingly liked it. People around me were noticing things about me changing. I was growing taller. Of course, everyone put it off as changes you normally experience in Grade 8.\n\nThen I got stronger and faster without even lifting a finger. *That* was when everyone got scared.\n\nThen came the day when they did a school play. I had to dress up as a soldier, so one kid who went to military fairs gave me some uniform that belonged to a soldier, but then something happened and the uniform ended up here. On me. It was really realistic, with all the gear and the helmet and all.\n\nThen the cramps came. The teacher was out, and only a few students were actually in the classroom. I collapsed to the ground, and everything was on fire.\n\nIt was horrific. I could feel everything about my body changing. Someone had set down a mirror previously, and I could see what was happening.\n\nMy eyes, which were originally brown, had become blue. And I had stubble. The worst part was, I looked older. I coughed out some blood, and I realized that I was becoming my *organ donor*.\n\nThe terrifying fact of becoming someone who saved your life is something that takes a long time for other people to process. "
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[WP] Scientist create a medication that allows you to remember all your dreams. We find out why we want to forget them
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"As someone who frequently woke up in the night to sweats and an elevated heart rate, I’d been working on lucid dreaming for years. It’s a tough process, learning to control your dreams, and it takes a lot of time investment as well as more than a little luck at first. The first time you succeed it doesn’t last long, and each time after that only increases a little at a time. The feeling of controlling your dreams though – it’s unparalleled in the waking world.\n\nThis is why it was hard for me to give in and try the “wonder drug” that my roommate was pushing on me. They were only in test phases but he said it worked just as advertised, with no side effects. A drug that could make you remember your dreams one hundred percent when you wake up the next day? Obviously it sounded way too good to be true. I knew firsthand just how hard it can be to go to bed with the express intent to remember my dreams, and here they were offering it to everyone and their mother in the form of a magical pill. But then again, if I could manage to completely remember my dreams from every night, maybe I would be able to figure out what it was that was keeping me up at night and without so much effort besides.\n\nI figured it was worth a shot so I went to sign up for the study they were doing. It was in one of those nondescript gray buildings downtown with nothing on the outside but an address. A few waivers and signatures later and I was on my way out the door with a bottle of dream skittles. All they wanted was for me to record my activities leading up to bed and then write down all the dreams I could recall the next morning. I’d done a couple studies when I was in college for spare cash, I knew the drill.\n\nI tried them out right away that night, settling in for what I hoped would be an illuminating experience. I woke up the next morning feeling awful, as if I had been told my parents had died and then gone on a weeklong bender. I rolled over to grab the notebook I normally keep for dream recording and put pen to paper to start regurgitating everything my brain decided to play out the night before. In my experience with lucid dreaming I knew you had to record it quickly or it would eventually fade like any other dream, and despite the promise of the pills that was a habit I wasn’t going to kick overnight.\n\nMy mind was on autopilot, writing about every little dream I had that night. I’d learned to let it all out in a stream unfiltered since that helps the memory process. There was something else though. Wedged in the center of the page, between the lines of text was sketched a series of symbols. It was a large diamond with a circle within it, repeating that pattern over and over. At the center was a diamond filled in completely with black ink. I wondered what the symbols could possibly mean and showed them to my roommate. He just laughed, joking “Man I hope you have better dreams than abstract art. Check out this news story though, some guy walked into our high school butt naked this morning!”\n\nDropping the journal in my room I went to my bathroom to splash some water on my face to help me wake up. Looking into the mirror I saw haggard eyes staring back at me, greasy hair matted to my head in places. I leaned on the sink for support, feeling a wave of exhaustion fall over me. I don’t know what happened, but this was most certainly not what was advertised when I picked those pills up. I called the pharmaceutical testing facility as soon as I felt like I could move without face planting into the floor, and the girl that answered assured me that any potential side effects would pass after the first day or so.\n\nThe next night I paused for a moment, less comfortable than before about taking the meds. I decided it was worth continuing despite my experience the night before and settled in once again. The morning after I woke in a daze and automatically picked up the dream journal, hands moving of their own accord. When I became consciously aware again I looked down at the paper and after comparing pages saw there were fewer symbols than before. This time they were bigger with one diamond and one circle missing, though the center diamond was still fully black. I did find that this time I didn’t feel nearly as bad as after the first night, just a mild headache that went away in short order.\n\nAt this point I became intrigued, unable to really focus on anything the rest of the day and eager to get back to the dream world to find out what it was that was going on in my head. The next few mornings I wrote again, noticing the text became sparser while the shapes grew fewer and larger. I took a moment to check the text and saw that the dreams weren’t as lighthearted as at the start, darker subjects like cults, rape, and murder becoming more frequent. Oddly I felt better with each passing day despite the change in dream content. My roommate turned on the news that night and the headline was of a church burning down across town from where we lived, a priest still inside at the time. Probably just a terrible accident, I thought. It was a sad story to be sure, but worse things had happened. \n\nOn the morning of the fifth day, as I was staring into the jet-black diamond with a single circle encompassing it I couldn’t suppress a shudder that traveled from head to toe. I wondered what was happening. Was this a mental barrier that I was breaking down? Was my unconscious mind sending me a message? Should I continue down the path I had begun to tread or was I beginning a slide into crazy town? I knew whatever happened I was probably going to need to talk to a professional after this clinical trial was over to try to figure out the symbolism behind all of the dreams, but I decided that whatever was happening could only be for the better if my outlook on life had been so vastly improved.\n\nThe next morning I woke to a paper nearly covered with inky blackness, the few white spaces remaining filled in with random words written over one another over and over, scrawled as if by a child. \n\nStop. No. Please. Pain. Death.\n\nIt was hard reading this and trying to reconcile it with my vastly improved moods. I had been feeling better and better with each passing day, better that morning than I could ever recall feeling in my entire life prior. Even if I had thought about stopping at this point, there is no way that I would be able to do so without knowing where this was going. This was the closest I had ever been to finding out what occupied the spaces in my dreams. That night the news showed a family that had been butchered in their home. I shook my head with sympathy, but I couldn’t let the negative parts of humanity get me down. I went to bed with a positive attitude, hoping for better news tomorrow.\n\nThe next morning the moment I woke I knew there was something wrong, as instead of elation at the start of a brand new day I had a feeling of absolute dread. On the paper were three words, not so much written as they were carved into it.\n\nI AM FREE.\n\n----------------------------------------------------------\n\nFeedback appreciated, any and all would be good as this is only my second post here.",
"This is my first ever response to a writing prompt. I want to try to work to expand my imagination. Please be critical, and thanks for reading.\n\n-----\n\nEver since I entered college I was fascinated with dreams. I worked hard to achieve lucid dreaming but could never quite get it. This fascination ended up driving my life, my career, and my research. I've been living off bags of ramen up until this point, but I'm not sure if I want to continue.\n\nI finally finished the drug. 2 years ago I got a grant to research a chemical that would help humans remember their dreams. The market for it was huge and apparently investors were easy to find. However, they weren't going to let me have any money until I could demonstrate a working product. At the time, this sounded perfect, I already had several leads on how it could be done but never would have thought it would turn out this way. $20,000 was what they gave me for the lab, the chemicals, and even test subjects. Willing of course.\n\nAfter I completed the drug, each test subject I interviewed could hardly speak, they would stumble across their words, would be wide eyed and scared. The first 3 committed suicide 2 days after the tests. I knew I didn't mess it up. I knew the drug worked, not with empirical data, but just my gut feeling.\n\nI now sit here at my desk, beating my head relentlessly on-top of my neuro-sciences book. The radio buzzed in the background of a large storm forming off the coast with several weather warnings, but I couldn't pay attention to it. I Just finished my fourth interview after a slight modification of the drug. The modification simply made them forget everything they witnessed in their dream after I interviewed. This was really only to calm my nerves so I couldn't be blamed for any more deaths.\n\nHe couldn't speak, and sat their wide-eyed just like the rest of the subjects. I tried many different ways of communicating with him until I finally got through. He started typing away at my keyboard and this is what he wrote during our briefing.\n\n*I've always been told what happens in my dreams takes seconds in reality, I've always been told that for an hour in my dream only a second passes in the real world. I can't confirm this more. I wasn't dreaming last night. No. Not one bit. My brain was processing. Calculating every possible action, every determined event, figuring out the best scenario. However, with each calculation, my mind didn't think I would remember. This interview already happened in our dream, I spoke to you and told you that I couldn't remember very well, but only bits and pieces of a tornado an bits of a hurricane, but that was all. This was the best scenario. I lived through hundreds of days last night. My brain calculating what would happen if I took a different action, if I said a different word. It determined each response and chose the best output. It predicted the future as if I was a mere character in a videogame. As if hundreds of me had already lived tomorrow and it wanted to pick the best one based on what had already happened. Even though nothing had happened yet. It chose this scenario, and I feel my brain is processing much slower because it didn't go as planned. I'm having a hard time speaking, and I know I'm typing much slower than usual. I knew the order of the electrodes on my forehead. I knew the order you put them on me just now before you even did it. You don't have free will. I don't have free will. I knew your actions, just as your brain knew mine. We are linked in a way that keeps us sane, that performs actions to result in the best possible outcome.*\n\nAt that moment, he simply stood up and walked out of the room.... And I let him. It was like Déjà vu."
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Inspired by an AskReddit post.
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[WP] You are a member of a secret-society, founded to protect a mysterious cube. Under your care, it vanishes.
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"I glance around.\n\nI close my eyes, open them, and look around again. No... come on, this is...\n\nI'm hallucinating. That's the only explanation. There must be... must be some kind of solar event rearranging the molecules in my brain, or something. There is an explanation. There has to be.\n\nI flex my hands, feel my knuckles pop. Cold sweat runs beads upon inside of my fingers. Hell, my entire body is cold, and the noon sun is blazing above me. \n\nThink. I was just standing here, like usual. Nothing was different. What was different?\n\nA few feet away, my satellite phone vibrates, skittering across the rock I perched it upon. I nearly jump out of my damn boots.\n\nI take a deep breath. Act normal. Everything is normal. I am normal. I wipe off the dusting of sand from the screen and pick up the phone. \n\n\"Yeah?\"\n\n\"How's it going?\"\n\nI glance behind me. \"Fine.\" \n\nThere's a pause. It feels like hours, and I swear they can hear my pores widening over the line. \"Alright,\" they say. \"Call if needed.\" The call ends.\n\nI blow out an unsteady breath. Shit. I have to find it before my shift is up. If not, then... no, don't want to think about it. Don't entertain the thought.\n\nI walk back to where I was stationed, and look out over the desert. \n\nA square indentation a mile long and a mile wide can be seen imprinted into the dunes, all sand within that square perfectly flat. I squint.\n\nThey say it's always where you look last.",
"\"Friends,\" I begin, stepping up to the podium. The small room is crammed full of people in dark robes, decorated with squares. I take a breath; this is going to be hard news to break.\n\n\"As the leader of the Alliance for the Protection and Reverence of the Transcendent Relic, I bring unfortunate news.\" A few gasps sound in the crowd, and someone begins coughing, though the latter is likely unrelated to the upcoming news. \"The Cube was... taken.\"\n\nSilence. Dead silence. Suddenly, someone yells out, \"Who?\" The crowd follows, the chant of \"Who?\" echoing through the room.\n\n\"However,\" I add. The crowd's banter is too much, so I repeat, louder, \"however!\"\nTheir attention once again turned towards me. \"The two scheduled for guard duty that night were,\" I pause to consult my timetable, knowing the names fully well already, \"Brother Bob and Brother Frank. But they were not to blame for what transpired!\" I signal, and the wall behind me slowly slides away, revealing a screen. It is currently displaying a black and white image of The Cube in it's containment chamber. A timestamp in the upper left reads 21:00. The timer begins to tick forward, but nothing else changes.\n\n\"Here is the security footage from last night, directly from The Cube's chamber. Brothers Bob and Frank were, as you know, stationed outside the only door to this chamber. On their 21:00 report, both gave an \"all-clear\". The same applies for 22:00 and 23:00. Their reports for 0:00, however, differ: Bob reports seeing a \"humanoid figure\" in the distance, while Frank mentions only \"something orange\".\"\n\nBehind me, the security footage has advanced to the 24:00 mark, with no discernible differences, save for the changing time. I wave my hand, and the time stops.\n\n\"We know who this figure is, though they did not. They are about to show up.\"\n\nThe tension in the crowd was palpable; they watched the screen with eager eyes. I turn to watch as well, just as the first event happens: a small lump of unrecognizable material enters the area at a high velocity from the lower left. It collides with the back wall and then, inexplicably, expands, forming a huge, elliptic hole. Through the hole, the camera could make out what appeared to be a back alley, with a single figure approaching. She had strange devices on her feet and some sort of weapon in her hand. She stepped through the hole, grabbed the Cube from its chamber, and left. Shortly thereafter, the hole in the wall closed itself.\n\nThe crowd is in shock. I step back to the podium.\n\n\"Friends, having seen what you have, I ask you: could mere men such as Brother Frank and Brother Bob have prevented this. I say no. I say that this is no a tragedy: this is fate. Whoever that was, they must have been the one the Cube was waiting for. We haven't failed; we've succeeded. The Cube has been taken by the Proper Recipient, and we have succeeded. Rejoice, my brothers, for our day is here!\"\n\nI stop. The gathered people are still silent, until one begins to clap slowly. Others join in, eventually beginning to cheer and celebrate our triumph. I smile and leave the stage.\n\n\"Bunch of gullible...\" I mutter to myself once out of earshot. \"I'm glad to be rid of that thing. I never trusted it anyway.\" I compose myself, and return to the common room.\n\nBrother Ted rushes into the room, clutching a parcel. He spots me and brings it over.\n\n\"This was found outside, by the door, just now. No one seems to know what it might be.\" He handed me the box with trembling hands. Inside was a Black Forest cake, and a piece of paper. On it was a small drawing of a pink heart."
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Some suggestions (not requirements):
* You know people who can edit records to match the new memory you have created.
* You can control any person or thing in the memory besides the patient.
* You generally try to only change what you need to get the job done.
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[WP] You are a therapist who helps people forget events by entering and interacting with the memory to change it to something else.
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"Mrs. M walks into my office holding a drowsy blond girl by the hand. \"Are you sure you want your child here?\" I ask, somewhat suspicious. \nShe nods. \"Yes, I need her for support.\" I close the door. \n\"Well, she won't be able to be in the room with us--\" \nShe sighs loudly and sits the girl down. \"Actually, the procedure is to be done on my daughter.\" \n\"I'm afraid I can't do that. This system hasn't even been tested on children under eighteen.\" \n\"You can't say no. My last payment was received this morning at eight. I signed the correct waivers. My daughter is fourteen. I signed the consent form as the guardian of the patient at our last appointment.\" She hands me two chip IDs. They both scan in my system. The records match, proving that she is this girl's legal guardian. \"You signed the form saying you will do the procedure. You're legally bound to do this for me.\" She puts her arm around the girl protectively. \nI grab Mrs. M's file from the desk and go through the papers quickly. Shit, she's right. I can't believe I missed that. \"It's extremely ill-advised--\" \n\"I can have you put to death under the Patient-Doctor Consent Compliance Act.\" \n\nEvery second I spend connecting the young girl to the machines, I hate myself more. Why did I ever agree to go into this line of work? \n\"Okay, darling, we're done. Now I'll get hooked up and we'll begin.\" \n\"Begin what?\" the innocent girl asks, having finally woken up. \n\"Something your mom wants me to help you with.\" \n\nHer mind is not at all what I expected. Rather than being saturated with pink and dreams and complaints--as most women's minds I see are--it is filled with science and knowledge and thoughts of rebellion. \nI walk into a laboratory and find an older version of the blond girl studying a microscope. She points to a display above my head. \"My genome, compared to a normal human genome.\" She looks up at me. \"I was genetically engineered and created fourteen years ago. That woman is not my mother, she is the one who bought me. It's like adopting, except that I will be the perfect daughter. I read a little too much about it a month ago, and ever since she has been trying to find a way for me to believe she is my mother, and that I am not one of the illegal genetic experiments on the news she calls 'freaks' and 'mutants'. Though I am remarkably more advanced than them.\" \nI am taken aback by all of the information this girl just dropped on me. \"How...how do you know?\" I ask cautiously. \n\"Once I found my 'adoption' papers, it was easy enough to figure out. She has always tried to turn me away from science. I'm supposed to be demure and fashion-obsessed and whatever. I thought she was just an obsessive mother who wanted me to be girly. Now I know she thinks I'm defective.\" \n\"She wants me to erase all of this. She wants me to fill your mind with the 'perfection' she expected.\" I nod. \"That's harsh.\" \n\"She wanted all of my memories gone, all replaced with pink fluffy perfection.\"\n\"I'm not going to do it.\" I tell the girl, and she looks relieved. \"The company who sold you to her might have recommended me. I'm...well-known in the genetic research sector, it seems.\" \n\"What can I do?\" \n\"Pretend. I'll give you some 'pink fluffy perfect' memories and you can work off of those. You're going to have to act how she wants until we can meet again. I'll tell your mother I need to see you next week, and we'll...get you out. We'll start something.\" \nShe went back to studying her genome. \"Okay. I can do that. Give me the girly memories.\" \n\nI unhook the machines from our minds and bring the girl back into the office. \n\"How was it?\" Mrs. M asks. \n\"It went perfectly,\" I assure her. \nThe girl runs to Mrs. M. \"Mom! My appointment was great. The doctor made me feel so much better. Not that there's anything wrong. Can we go home?\" \nI stop Mrs. M with a hand on her arm. \"She'll need to come back in a week. I can only fix the past, not new thoughts.\" \n\"Of course. Thank you,\" Mrs. M says, shaking my hand. \nI nod and watch the door close. Then I access the databases of GenLabs. \nApparently they hadn't closed the project which created me. ",
"You think my job is easy? You have no idea.\n\nThink of the worst thing that has ever happened. Maybe you're lucky, and it's something like someone breaking your heart. Someone breaking your bones. Losing someone you loved. It could be something worse. You hurt yourself, tried to kill yourself, killed someone, a tragedy in a sea of them. You try to tell yourself that these memories won't stop you, that they'll make you stronger. You try to become stronger.\n\nYou can't always be strong. \n\nThe memory, the worst thing that ever happened? It can hit at any time. It can hit at your best, dismantling you, bringing you back down to your worst, and if your hit at your worst, it's like you've less then no progress, as if you're all the way back then, reliving that moment over, and over again. \n\nBut what can you do? You can try to suppress, but that just makes it worse when it hits. Makes them more unpredictable. You can try to control it, let the pain flow when it's reasonable, when you feel safe but that just makes everything seem unsafe. You can try so many things, but no matter what you try, it hurts. \n\nThen one day, you find me. From a friend of a friend, or from a story from the web. You hear about someone who can get rid of memories, and make them different. \n\nYou go to an office building, and go to floor 12. At the end of a long hallway, you find my office. In the middle of a bustling city, noises everywhere, it's quiet and safe. I greet you, and I tell you what I do, and how much it will cost. Maybe you start crying, so I give you a discount. Maybe you still can't afford it, so I tell you I'll change a bad memory if I can have one of your good ones. That freaks some people out, but trust me, they're getting a good deal. \n\nSo you lie down on the couch. You don't need it, but it's people expect and if you're going to do something really strange, it helps to start with what's expected. I talk to you for a bit, get a feel for your mind, what to expect, then I give you a quick whiff of knockout gas. Don't worry, you won't remember it. Then I dive in. \n\nDescribing a person's mind with words is like trying to describe colour with black and white photography. Not to say it can't be done, it's just really not worth it unless you can experience it. I search for the Moment and usually it's not hard to miss. Everything seems to revolve around it, it becomes the centre of a person's life. \n\nSo I find it. And I change it. The easiest way is to change is to make it a movie. No, I'm serious. Just change the people to some well known actors, put you in a movie scene and bam, one scene that just really hit you hard. You're right, that part is easy. What follows is the hard part. \n\nI have to find every time you remembered, and I have to stop you. Stop you from falling and falling and falling and I see every time you're happiness turns to ash, and every time your sadness becomes greater. I see you at your worst, and I change it. It still happens, there's just no reason for it anymore. I take it from you. \n\nThen, if you paid well, it ends, you wake up, and you realise that a weight has been lifted off of your chest and you feel strong. You don't know how, but you know I helped. \n\nIf you didn't pay, then that still happens, after I take what was agreed. I don't take anything major, no weddings, no graduations, and no firsts. I mostly just take childish things, nostalgia, the happiness of a saturday morning, knowing you don't need to go to school and you can just watch cartoons all morning. I take a few of those, sometimes kisses, reunions, times with pets. The stuff you have plenty of, that won't be missed. \n\nWhat? No, I don't sell it. I don't even think I could. I keep it for myself, as a kind of buffer. I can't do anything to my memories except add to them, and every moment I see when I'm there, the sort of stuff that ruins lives, it's kept in me, and I have to do as much as I can to stop it from destroying me. I could quit, but I think somehow the guilt would be worse. I'm not strong enough to take the guilt. \n\nHour's up? Ok. Thanks. Money is in your account like always and next time we meet, I'll give you the memory of, well, me back. Thanks again, I feel like it's been really productive today. Now lie down, and breathe deeply. I'll see you next week. ",
"In my office there is a box. Within the box there are many cubes. Within each cube there are many memories.\n\nI don't know why it is that I do what I do. They come to me; the hurt and the remorseful both. A memory is like any other piece of flesh. The history is written upon it's surface, each scar a river that has carved through a lifetime. And sometimes those scars are too much to bear. Sometimes they tear through the flesh, into the person beneath.\n\nI take the memories. It is theft. There's no other way around it, and every law enacted has only further qualified my position as a thief. I'm a thought-eater, a mind-mongerer. What I do can barely be called therapy. And yet they come to me.\n\nThe memories aren't clean. The scar may be obvious, but the flesh around it is still living tissue. How much or how little to cut, that is how reputations are borne. I take only what is needed, but sometimes even that is too much. But once it is done, they know no better.\n\nAnd into the cubes I place the images of a laughing child, the screaming silence of a wife on the tile floor. And nestled deep below, amongst the golds and the reds and the greens (always so many greens), there is a little black cube. My cube.\n\nI don't know what memories are contained within it. I don't know when I took them, or of what they are. The power faded many years ago, the colour, a brilliant white, died and so did any chance I had of remembering.\n\nSo now I take more memories. And I try each. Like a jigsaw one will fit or at least settle into the hollow and I know I am reaching closer to my goal. She was important. And sadness wrapped around her. Her face was... the memory is only as strong as the last."
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[WP] You are an intergalactic hunter, you go from planet to planet hunting rare aliens and bringing back the various wares collected from their corpses
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"I slip through the alley ways of the slums of Briggtoren, the self sustaining city on the third moon of Horfoe. The holographic sun, with its artificial sunlight, is setting on the massive dome screen that covers the city from the cold dead planet.\n\nI always loved the idea of this city, built for the sole purpose of relocating the whole Damn thing to another quadrant of space, in a blink of an eye. They've gotten so good at doing it, they are refining the process to complete negate relativity effect on time.\n\nOh the hunger, that rush, when you high-jack someone's ship, when you shoot a man with a banned microwave lazer who thought his shield would protect him. Not many people can say they stole a crotch-jet from a Therulian, and while being chased by a gang of blood thirsty Therulians, they caught up to a tier-3, gold plated, Honerson K-230 right before lift off, shot a hole in it, took it over and slipped it out of space-time in three seconds. I did that shit.\n\nGetting to my dealer's house, I step up to the door, it immediately swings open, and he snatches me inside. \n\n\"Whoa! What's this all about?\" I ask him as he gives me a shake down. \n\n\"People have turned, can't trust anyone... what's this?\" He holds my inhaler up.\n\n\"That's my medicine, see...\" I take it from him and use it. \n\n\"Hmm, hmmm, and what's that supposed to be for?\"\n\n\"It reconstructs and fixes my DNA from space travel, I haven't turned, ok?\"\n\n\"Yeah, how do I know that?\"\n\n\"Cause I came here for a job, and I have a delivery.\" I pull the sentry bot from my coat, and toss it in the air. \"Its complete with AI, scanners, standard self sustaining battery, it's capable of flying a fighter into intergalactic warfare, can turn invisible and is complete with a laser capable of taking a brigader ship down.\"\n\n\"You haven't turned!\" He screams, latching his arms around me. \n\n\nI'll come back to this, and finish, :)",
"The corpse of a Minuvian Swamp Monster would fetch well over twenty million dollars on the open market. Their bones were made of a gold weave that we'd found impossible to replicate in a lab, and just happened to be an amazing superconductor. There were only four functional quantum computers on earth, and all of them were powered by Minuvian bones.\n\nIt had been simple getting hunting permits from the D'oort. \"Mutually beneficial,\" they'd called it. They knew full well how much I stood to gain, but they hardly seemed to care about profit. On their planet, Minuvians were a pest. An invasive species that had terrorized the D'oort for centuries.\n\nMy D'oort guide led me to through a forest and to the edge of a swamp, and retreated soon after. I stood above the swamp, my rifle pointed at the surface. I waited for hours, knowing that the beast had to surface at some point.\n\nI saw some bubbles rise to the surface a few feet away from me. I trained my gun on the spot. More bubbles, followed by a splashing noise.\n\nI fired. When the smoke cleared, I saw the corpse of a fish-like creature floating on the surface. Not a Minuvian.\n\nBut my gunshot had awakened the beast. Many more bubbles began to appear next to where the fish was floating. After a few seconds, a scaly arm reached out of the water and grabbed the fish. I fired again. The monster's arm was hit, blue and gold specks flying everywhere. It retreated its arm back into the water.\n\nI turned on my oxygen tank and dove into the water after it. After a few moments, my HUD adjusted to the murky waters and I could see clearly. The swamp was a lot deeper than I'd previously thought. I saw the Minuvian swimming downwards. It was an eight-foot-long bipedal creature covered in bluish-gold scales that seemed to sparkle even in the swampwater.\n\nSince I'd injured its arm, it wasn't paddling effectively, and I was able to catch up in just a few seconds. I grabbed its neck as tightly as I could and squeezed. The protective scales prevented me from doing any damage to its gills. The monster pulled itself free and continued swimming downward.\n\nI caught up again and grabbed its injured arm. I pulled out a knife and stabbed right where the bullet hand entered. *If I can't take the whole thing, an arm would be a pretty nice consolation prize.* The monster didn't try to fight back, but instead just kicked its feet harder, dragging us both further into the water.\n\nAs we descended, more and more golden blood leaked out of the creature's arm, and its kicking slowed. It stopped just as we hit the swamp floor. The monster was dead.\n\nI smiled. *Victory*. I took a look around the floor of the swamp to see if there was anything else worth grabbing on my way out.\n\nThere was a much smaller Minuvian, probably a child, swimming a few feet away and staring at me. I swam towards it, hoping to add to my haul, but stopped.\n\nThe child was holding a spear.\n\nI felt a sense of horror rise within me. *The Minuvians are intelligent?*",
"They call me the Reaper.\n\nI just call it business. If you have the cash, I’ll get any part you need. No planet is too far. No creature is too elusive for me.\n\nPictorian tail? No problem.\n\nRanf’til fang? I got ten.\n\nTralfamadorian eye? Like stealing candy from a baby.\n\nWhat can I say? My reputation may vary by who’s speaking but who cares what they think about me. We’re all trying to make a living and I’m doing what I’m best at. So sue me.\n\nA week ago, I got my highest request yet – fifty trillion space bucks. The chump even paid up front because he said he trusted my “expertise”. Whatever floats his boat, I guess. I don’t have a return policy.\n\nSo now, I’m walking amongst these aliens and they're as oblivious as babies. Not that I can blame them. I look just like them. \n\nTop of the line camouflage suits have become my signature mark, in a way. I just zip it up, take what I need, and leave before anyone even realizes what had happened. By the time they do, I’m usually in another galaxy on my next order. This time will be no different.\n\nHowever, I must admit this mission has been a pain. It required more planning than another, detailing every little step to ensure everything went smoothly. After all, this is perhaps the largest batch of aliens I’ve needed to bring at once. What my employer wants them for, I have no idea. Do I care? Not really.\n\nBut if I had to guess, it has something to do with those urban myths about them. Something about an invisible force that gifts them limitless creativity. I think they call it a *soul*. Some poor artist must be looking for it, uninspired with their work and desperate for anything to bring back the “spark”.\n\nOh well, none of my concern. I’ll supply as many as they need as long as the money keeps flowing. That’s my spark.\n\nThere’s a soft ding overhead from one of the machines. I vaguely know what it does but feign understanding. They won't need it where they're going. I check my watch.\n\nShowtime.\n\nI adjust my voice manipulator, making sure it’s set to their foreign tongue. Once I’m ready, I nod to the alien at my side with a small smirk. Little does he know the person I'm masquerading as is tied up in the back, yet another unfortunate victim. He doesn’t suspect a thing.\n\nPressing the button, I repeat the rehearsed words into the microphone.\n\n“Thank you for flying Malaysian Airlines. I hope you enjoy your flight.”",
"I almost never take commissions. Why? Because they are boring.\n\nI have been to one thousand, three hundred and forty two planets. Guess how many trophies there are in my ship? \n\nIncorrect. The answer is actually one thousand, three hundred, and forty *three*. Betelgeuse 9 had two different animals that I wanted to hunt. But that's really besides the point: what I am trying to say is that I have tracked and slaughtered the most powerful and dangerous creature on nearly every planet in the known solar system. I have narrowly escaped the clutches of the Ha'ra'mana on Eridani. I was almost gored by the Graeto on Gamma Cephei. Etc, etc. You get the point: I can hunt and kill anything in the universe. So you can then easily understand why I don't do your run-of-the-mill bounty hunts. \n\nEvery potential client says the same thing when I tell them that. \"Oh, this one is different!\" they promise me. \"My daughter was kidnapped by ferocious pirates hiding out in some asteroid belt!\" they'll say. And when I arrive, armed to the teeth and ready for the hunt, the pirates don't even last fifteen minutes. I'm not traveling a thousand light years for *fifteen minutes* of fight and then an hour of sniveling and groveling! \n\nI don't know how this Mr. Gerton talked me into this one, though. The man had a silver tongue, I must admit. Proprietor of a mining company, always pushing the limits of known space looking for bigger and bigger lodes of precious metals. And it's worked out for him, too. You should've seen the Chriad-shell boots this man was wearing. It would have taken at least a thousand of those vicious little demons' carapaces to make those shit-kickers. Maybe there was something to this job after all. \n\n\"I only have some of the details about what it is,\" Gerton told me. \"We sent a crew out to CoRot-7. So far out that it doesn't have a name yet. Our probes had detected large amounts of H3 on a moon in the system, so I sent an exploratory ship. Automated data said they landed, but we never received any word back. So I sent another. Same thing. We thought maybe the atmosphere was interfering. But it seems to be something else, based on a transmission I received from the third crew before they, well... you know...\" He clicked play on the data recorder, and the first sound I heard was clanging. Echoing metal that drowned out everything else, like listening to the inside of a steel drum. \"Sounds like it was trying to get through the blast door.\" \n\nThe recorder then begins to play a voice. One of the survivors of the assault; an engineer named Sarah Andres. I could still clearly hear the clanging in the background, along with what sounded like sporadic gunfire. She describes a vicious beast that had torn apart the other crews and used their settlement as its nest. She didn't even know how to describe it. \"A tornado of teeth and claws,\" she called it. *That* piqued my interest; those always made for the best trophies. \n\n\"That's really all we know,\" Gerton said after the transmission stopped. \"So if you do agree to this, we ask that you wear cameras at all times to gather any additional information about it, in the event that you fail and we need to send someone else.\" *Buddy,* I wanted to tell him, *If I fail, there* **is** *no one else.*\n\n\"And the pay is substantial, of course,\" Gerton promised. He transferred 12 million credits to my account right then and there as a deposit. Normally not much of an issue for me, given how much I can sell my prizes on the market for. But the promise of 150 million credits upon safe return was irresistible. I could buy my own planet with that. No sane man would pass up such an offer. \n\n\"All right,\" I relented, offering Gerton my hand. \"You have a deal.\"\n\n-----\n\nEven with my state-of-the-art ship, the journey took four weeks. *Far* longer than most hops with the wormhole generator. I spent most of my time drawing up plans for how to go about this, taking inventory of all of my arms and deciding which ones to use. I plotted contingency after contingency. \"Expect the unexpected,\" and all that, my first rule of hunting. \n\nCoRot-7 looms in front of me on the view screen. Seems normal enough: not too much terraforming necessary, with blue seas and green land. A bit more watery than earth, with land only making up about 8% of its surface. \n\nWarning lights flash, and the planet disappears. Mr. Gerton's face pops up.\n\n\"Glad to see that you arrive. It's time I inform you of the second part of the deal.\"\n\n*Not a good sign*, I thought.\n\n\"Those warnings you're getting now are detecting the missiles currently streaking toward your ship. Should arrive in roughly twelve minutes, if the team on the munitions platform did their job correctly. I set it to fire eight of them, though I'm informed that one would be sufficient to blow you out of the sky. Given your wily reputation, I thought it would be best to make sure that everything went as planned.\"\n\nI checked the instruments. He wasn't lying. Projectiles coming at me from four different directions. No way to outrun them. *FUCK*.\n\n\"Twelve minutes is just enough time for you to land your ship on the planet and remove some of your gear. Not all of it, of course. So you'll need to prioritize.\"\n\n\"WHY?\" I shouted at him, only to realize it was a recording. Probably triggered automatically just like the missiles.\n\n\"You're probably wondering why. I didn't lie, you know. There is something down on that planet. Something that killed the exploratory crews. But I don't necessarily need this as a mining colony. I've decided it's time to diversify... into *entertainment.* Following the missiles will be automated camera drones. I'm sure you'll try shooting them down, but believe me: I have more drones than you have bullets. So don't bother.\"\n\nI slammed a fist down on the console so hard that the panel dented. *Fucker*. I knew I shouldn't have taken that commission.\n\n\"I'm assured that the show will be immensely popular! The universe's greatest hunter against the world's deadliest beast? Amazing! And rest assured, if you do survive you will be compensated exactly as promised. I am a man of my word!\"\n\n\"You asshole,\" I shouted at the monitor, hoping that the cameras around my ship would relay it back to him. \"If I survive this, I don't want your money! I want your head!\"\n\nThe ship rocked as we entered the atmosphere. The missiles were still incoming, closing fast. Gerton had been exactly right about the timing. I'd have just enough time to get away from the ship before it blew. *Fuck*. Good thing I had planned ahead. \n\nI made it out in time. I vaulted from the ship's landing platform and sprinted away. The enhancement suit allowed me to carry hundreds of kilos of equipment and supplies, but not even a tenth of what I'd brought just in case. Explosions behind me tore my precious ship to pieces and sent bits of metal spraying through the air. Debris fell through the dense jungle-like foliage like rain, tearing through leaves. \n\nEverything was silent. The blast had scared off anything living in the jungle, and even the wind seemed afraid to stir. \n\nAnd then there was a roar. A howl of rage and anger. My prey.\n\nI wanted to be angry at Gerton, but I couldn't lie to myself: this was the most fun I'd had in *years*."
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[WP] As food got scarcer and harder to grow, a large fleet of viking ships sail west in hopes of finding new farmland. After months of sailing, they come across a landmass where they eventually settled in. 500 years later, Columbus makes landfall, and comes in contact with the Great Norse empire.
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"*Memoirs of a Sailor*\n\nThey said it couldn't be done. Whispers went around, susurrations about it. It can't be possible. It wasn't possible. But what choice did we have? \n\nThe country was hungry. The king and queen were hungry. Most importantly, *I* was hungry. What did you expect? You can't just grow food infinitely. Eventually the land becomes sandy without proper care. What were you guys thinking?\n\nEnough was enough though, so I volunteered to do the impossible. It wasn't an easy task. The crew I was given was malnourished, starving effigies of once were great sailors. But I took them, each and every single one. They were volunteers, the sad lot, and I'd be damned if I wasn't going to try if they gave it their all. If your family was starving, wouldn't you have done the same?\n\nI'm blamed all the time. But it wasn't my fault. I had to. Don't you see? We were starving, for God's sake. My daughter, my sweet, sweeter daughter, had arms thinner than a little sapling. I had to do something, anything to put that smile back on her face. She hadn't the energy to even greet me at the door, her favorite part of the day. My wife...died giving her portion of the food secretly to my daughter to hold off the starvation. Have you SEEN WITNESSED UNDERSTOOD your wife as she wasted away without letting you know? They say the greatest love is nothing compared to a mother with her child, and I now know that phrase rings true. Would you have not done the same, if not for desperation?\n\nMy reasons then, unbeknownst to the populous, are now laid out to bare for my judgment. I do not care. What I have done is done. \n\nThe royalty promised me in exchange for this voyage protection of my daughter, food, water, shelter...all a father could dream of. Yes it's selfish; but what was I to do? A great war captain, shattered internally, watching the loves of his life wither away like so much dust in the wind? \n\nSo I did. Four study ships, what was left of the navy. The other ships...met a fate worse than mine, I'm afraid. \n\nThe men and I, we sailed. And sailed. Across the endless blue mirror. The sun peaked its ugly head in the morning, shone in its zenith, and dipped beyond the horizon. And it looped around us, mocking us, letting us know what scum we were beneath its heated gaze. It never once let up, except to trade places with the moon, who mocked us just the same. \n\nMonth one was sun and sun and sun and heat and sun and sun and oh I can't tell you how bad it truly was. Many died under the relentless heat, our meager rations actually increased because of the dead. We threw them overboard, no energy to even say the last rites. \n\nMonth two was worse. Storms, constant, whirling death, wind and destruction, marred our advance. We lost two entire ships, all hands went down. \n\nMonth three was calm. We caught fish, bided our time. Good men had died, yet we were too exhausted to care.\n\nAnd so it continued. \n\nUntil one day, the compass never failed me after all. Land was sighted. Beautiful, delicious, sane, green and brown lay in direct contrast to the endless void that was the ocean. We prayed. We cried. We jumped with joy, our last remaining strength. We were little more than dirty animals with vestiges and remnants of cloth that hung off our gaunt shoulders, never mind our ragged beards, unkempt hair and a smell that could kill the weeds of a garden. \n\nWe sailed, but noticed an awful lot of brown. Brown and white. Where was the green? The verdant forests of an untamed land we were promised?\n\nExultation turned to reservation. What was going on? My men quieted down as we approached the shore. We saw something unbelievably remarkable. \n\nPeople. And not just people. Creatures we had never seen before, that these people rode. And these strange metal contraptions everywhere, I'm talking everywhere.\n\nWe expected, at best, Indians, and at worst, primitives. What we got was a civilization far greater than anything I've ever seen before. See, at this point we could have turned around, when suddenly we were flanked by giant floating, (by God, is that *metal* I remember thinking) things. I decided we test it out, and signaled for the other boat to do the same. We fired a cannonball at the metal contraption, and it...bounced off. Our eyes collectively widened in amazement. What boat could turn away a cannonball? \n\nThis was my first and final mistake. I thought by being aggressive we could ensure we were a force to be reckoned with. Instead, we get their equivalent of a warning shot: their metal rods burst force a flame, and with that one thunderous boom, the second ship exploded. I don't mean ripped apart, but literally exploded. We were in awe. And now deathly afraid. I ordered the men to be on our best behavior as we were guided into the port. \n\nThe rest you all know. They took us captive, ransoming us back to the queen. Their metal behemoths set sail, with men farther than the eye could see, carrying mini metal rods. It was the end of my people. We were enslaved, under a hammer that reminded me of old Norse legends. The flag that waved in their land, on their metal ships: a hammer with a lightening bolt. \n\nIt struck fear across the world. Countries we didn't even know existed fell, the strange yellow people of the true Far East, the blacks of Africa, the whites everywhere else. Our religion quashed, our armies shattered, our countries fell. We were under the rule of what once was a mythological race. \n\nSo there you have it. It was my fault. They were biding their town, building massive armies and ships to conquer the world. The Dark Ages never happened. They were leaps and bounds ahead of us. Welcome, our new Norse Overlords. \n\nMy daughter is alive. There is food. What more could a father want? ",
"Columbus paced the deck, as he had done each day for weeks, waiting for the lookout to sight the East Indies. But the boy didn't. The ocean rolled on into distant horizons, as waves rocked the Santa Maria back and forth in numbing perpetuity. The sun slipped into waters he had not reached, taunting him, and so he made his way down to his cabin. His cabin, of course, was the largest on the Santa Maria, decorated with most of the wealth he had. It would pale in comparison to the riches he was about to earn, he assured himself. It had to. He'd dedicated years to this, and every night he couldn't take his mind off his future glory.\n\nBut then again he knew he'd never reach Asia, never discover a new trade route, and never return home to the adulation of King Ferdinand. Most likely his decor, the bear skin rug, the portrait in a golden frame, the volumes of detailed maps, would all sink to the bottom of the cursed sea along with the Santa Maria. Or maybe they'd all starve first.\n\nThere was a knock on his door, the cook must have arrived to bring him his supper. They'd run out of good meat weeks ago, so Columbus braced himself for another salted meal that'd refuse to go down his throat for hours.\n\n\"Sir, Sir!\" called the voice, not the cook's, before Columbus had even moved toward the door. Perplexed, Columbus strode over and swung open the door. In front of him he saw an excited, if slightly intimidated, deckhand. \n\n\"What?\" he demanded, cutting off the deckhand just before he could begin. It took a few seconds for the deckhand to recompose himself, loosening the jaw locked in place by his mild panic. Columbus, of course, was important. Brushing his tattered uniform with one hand, the deckhand began again.\n\n\"Sir, the lookout has sighted land, si-\" he was pushed aside as Columbus bounded up to the deck, his heart swelling as his dreams realised themselves before his very eyes.\n\n\"Lookout, how far to the Asian coast?\" he bellowed triumphantly.\n\n\"Just ten miles or so, captain!\" came the reply. Columbus walked over to the side of the ship, eager to catch a glance of his future. However, he was caught short by the sight of an unusual ship not far off the Santa Maria's port side.\n\n\"Jesus, Mary and Joseph,\" he muttered, rubbing his brow. He certainly did not expect the Japanese to sail ships that seemed so uncannily similar to the longboats of Nordic histories. The dragon head on the ship's bow, that he could attribute to the mythical beasts living in Asia, they even had dragons that they could have based the design on. But the low deck, as if the Japanese had rivers to sail through. And he was sure he could see a Nordic flag flying from the mast. But, he realised, what's important is the riches that ship must hold. The hull itself glittered in the dark sea.\n\n-------------------------------------------------\n\nHarold Erikson, spotting an odd ship in the distance, commanded his men to row towards it. Perhaps the kingdoms often spoke of by visiting Icelandic traders had deigned to visit the Great Norse Empire, perhaps the ship even belonged to the famed Scandinavians. His father had told him countless stories of how Vikings from Scandinavia ruled the waves, all the way from their homeland to Vinland. Such stories had led to Harold's brother, Leif, sailing off to discover the old world. Perhaps he had sent this ship to tell the Empire of his success.\n\nAs his men got closer, he noticed a few odd things about the ship. First, it didn't seem to have any oars, but it's sails reached high into the sky. And it's hull seemed wooden, as if it had been taken from the past and dropped into the ocean. He ordered one of the men to send out radio signals, they must have been in range of this new ship's antenna. And with masts that large, the foreign ship may even have been able to send messages all the way to it's homeland.\n\nBut there was no reply. A shock to Harold, but not the last and definitely not the biggest. For he soon discovered, as did his brother in Europe, that the Europeans had not even invented electricity. Historians universally agree that these early discoveries were what led to the fervent colonisation of Europe by the Great Norse Empire, eventually leading to the Union of Midgard we know today."
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[WP] You sit in the darkest cell of one of the worst prisons in the world, accused of a crime you didn't commit. This is unbearable. Then one night, you see it in the corner of your eye. The vent nearby is loose and the guards haven't yet arrived to lock your cell for the night. Hope.
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"Carrington had dropped him in it. Five years running ops for the man so dark they made a black hole look like a fucking christmas tree. And after Bolivia? Just a life sentence and his augs ripped out of his skin.\n\nIf this place had a name it was more redacted than his own. No one knew he had been taken, his own squad would have been broken up, scattered between every other force in the IPA until there was nothing left. Another fuck you from the general.\n\nIt had happened once before. Evening detail, back from a room with ink walls so cheap you could see the scan lines in the \"outdoor environment\" that constituted his one hour of sunlight each day. And there, at the end of the walkway, the vent was loose. Maintenance had been up all day, inmates locked in or shut out. And someone had forgotten one.\n\nHe'd been under escort at the time. The last riot had thinned the herd so to speak, which meant the guards were taking no chances. But this time? This time they dropped him off, left the cell and forgot to throw away the key.\n\nThe vent led to the shafts. The shafts rose and twisted and branched, but eventually he came out into a dank storeroom, brooms and cleaning supplies piled around. Opening the door he realised nothing had changed. The best forward ops points were always in plain sight.\n\nThe car park was lit by a few bulbs. Black cadillacs sat in neat rows. And one was idling right outside. Carrington rolled down the window.\n\n\"Get in,\" the general said.\n\nHe paused and considered ramming a broom stale through the drivers window.\n\n\"Do you know how hard it is to break someone out of here? Much less have to do it twice because the idiot is too dumb to take a chance.\" The general rolled turned to face forwards and revved the engine. \"I'm not gonna ask again.\"",
"This place is nearly a literal hell on Earth. Right now I’m stuck in a cell somewhere in South America, and I don’t even know where it’s at. There’s no air circulation here, so the muggy heat reaches unbearable levels somewhere between “too early for the sun” and “wait a second, I can’t even see daylight from where I’m at”. In other words, I’m constantly sweating out the little bit of water I get each day before I’m even fully awake. That’s another thing that never happens, since I don’t really sleep very well due to the combination of heat and rancid smell this place produces. The hewn rock walls never cool off enough to provide a respite from the heat and they trap in all the moisture and the smell, particularly that of the waste bucket in the corner.\n\nI got picked up by the local police force and shoved through what I can only see as a kangaroo court on some charges that don’t make sense in the broken English that my defender translated to me. I have no idea how long I’ve been here. It could be weeks or months at this point, but time becomes really hard to judge when you have no point of reference. Even the guards don’t seem to come around on any set schedule, though that could just be my mind losing it from lack of nutrition, sleep, and stimulation. When they do finally come by it is only long enough to drop off a meager ration and a glass of water that looks like it was drawn from a dirty well. Just enough sustenance to keep me from keeling over dead.\n\nAt this point I can’t even tell if the guard is changing or if it’s the same guy every time. In my barely conscious, blurred-vision state all I can truly make out is that it is indeed a man each time. It hasn’t been too long since their last visit - I can tell because my stomach is still growling horribly as opposed to dying off into that dull background ache that comes from extended periods without food.\n\nJust as I start to lay my head down on the matted straw below me, I notice that the cell door is standing slightly ajar. I squint my eyes, sure that it’s just my too-tired brain playing tricks on me, but sure enough there is a tiny gap between the door and the latch. Never had the door been left open in the past. I slowly open my eyes, heart rate increasing as I try to think of the implications. I could leave the cell. Dare I? Considering the way I ended up in this place, this could be my one chance at freedom. But how would I get out? Would I have the strength to fight off a guard if I was caught? Would they just shoot me on sight? It didn’t take long to realize that I didn’t really have a choice. Continuing on the way things were going would just mean a draw-out death, and that’s assuming they don’t decide to just take me out for a quick execution eventually anyway.\n\nI slowly crawl to the gate, peering down the darkened hallway and listening for any possible sign that someone is nearby. Not a sound, save a rodent skittering its claws along the stone hall. I prepared to move the cell door open, knowing it was going to make a creak as I did so. Who would maintain a rusty gate in a forsaken place like this? I begin to ease it open, the squeak it made muted by the gradual rotation of the hinges. Creeping out into the hall, I measure my steps carefully to make sure I don’t step in an unseen puddle or obstacle that could give away my position. \n\nAs I feel my way along the dank passage I feel a very faint brush of air on my ankles. I can’t see anything, but getting down on my hands and knees I feel the breath of air on my face and know that there is a passage of some kind here, probably a completely ineffective ventilation system. There is only a token grating over it, already loose to the touch. I pull on the grate and it pops out easily, the mortar surrounding the screws having long since crumbled due to decay. At the point the adrenaline begins pumping through my veins like a runaway locomotive. Feeling around inside, the opening seems wide enough to allow me to fit my emaciated form into it. Could this actually work? I had long since given up hope that any divine being existed, but I said a brief prayer anyway. With my heart feeling like it’s jackhammering a hole through my chest, I squeeze my way in and hope.\n\n----------------------------------------\n\nFeedback appreciated.\n"
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Looking forward to see what people do with this prompt.
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[WP] You discover you have the power to reverse time for up to a few minutes before the present. You decide to use this for good, and become a silent hero. One day you discover your nemesis has the same power you do.
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"It came as quite a surprise.\n\nThere's a cute girl sitting the park bench just twenty feet behind me sketching a tree. I'm walking over, hoping to introduce myself, when my latte decides to take a dive right onto her sketchbook. *Fuck* I think to myself, *wish I could do that again*\n\nAnd bam! I'm twenty feet behind her again and the latte is still in my hand. \n\nIt didn't really end up working out with the girl, but from then on, I knew that this power was special. I would use it all the time, from quick bets on the outcome of races to leaving a party a few minutes before the cops showed up. By my estimates, it seemed that I could only bring the time back about ten minutes, and it would take another ten to recharge my power. I thought I was king of the world, that is, until I met Jim.\n\nFucking Jim. I had sometimes been in the middle of something important when time suddenly went backwards again. I always thought it was my powers going haywire, not a big deal. I never expected someone else to have the same power.\n\nI noticed him in a casino, where he was winning bets at an absurd rate. My powers also seemed to go haywire. Nevertheless he seemed different from all the other gamblers. To test my theory, I \"accidentally\" spilled some beer on him and poof!- its ten minutes earlier. \n\nIt could only be me with the power. I was king. I didn't share a throne. I threw a punch straight at him and followed it up with a kick. Ten straight minutes of me demolishing him over and over and over. Then, I'm back, right before I threw the punch. \n\nThere's one issue with fighting someone who has the same power as you. You end up in a stalemate. Jim and I have been fighting the same ten minutes for about eighteen weeks now and I don't think its gonna end anytime soon.",
"How? \n\nThe last question anyone heard from my lips. What you read now is simply my memoir. I wrote it , you found it. See I have been stuck replaying my last moments for years now. I figured out just who around me has paper, who has a pen. Actually pencil works better because if I'm moving through time too slow it can't keep up. \n\nI digress. My story is all I have time for and as good as my powers are if I don't finish I'll have to start over , and I have determined that this is the last time I do that.\n\nI found I could stop and rewind time around 15 years of age. Of course, I immediately used it for all the wrong purposes. Perceiving that I was falling behind my peers I didn't use it for cheating for long. That is not to say ever, but I found learning was easier when I could pause a lesson. The rest of the bad behavior stopped after I had saved the life of the man I would one day marry. There was a cliff, he had fallen a few minutes before and I was able to stop him just in time. The experience made me want to act more like superhero not just to be someone with powers.\nAnother experience , a car crash showed me my limits. A grand total of 14 minutes and 3.5 seconds was never enough to save everyone in the car. I cried for days at who I had choosen to let die. \n\nThen of course my husband's death. Three states away and I learned about it to late to even call and warn him. So much I wanted to say to him and even with time at my fingertips it wasn't enough.\n\nTime is almost gone for me though. You see, there is another time bender? I guess that is what you would call us. I strikes me weird that I never named my brand of power. This person is the reason for my death and its slow and steady march. I have tried to change the outcome many times and there is no escape. \n\n\"O, come on now.\" the other's voice rings out \"The others had the decency to die after a few hundred cycles , but you just have to keep on clinging to life huh?\" My husband was walking slowly towards me. \"Look I saved you for last darling, but people with powers like ours can not be allowed to exisist. Please end this.\" \n\nI couldn't go on. I couldn't hold time back. I had no strength. The sniper's bullet wasn't a clean kill , it never was ,but I was able to ask my final question, \"Why?\" "
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[WP] Write a story about loneliness.
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"\"Dude! Your here! Bill's here!\"\n\nOkay, time to socialize.... \"Do you really need to announce it to everyone?\"\n\n\"Duh! You brought the beer!\"\n\n\"Here you go, and drink responsibly young man!\" Was that good? I hope I didn't sound weird.\n\n\"Yes grandpa~~ Anyways come in enjoy the party, Emma brought some killer guacamole. WE GOT BEER!!!!!\"\n\nGood that went okay. I guess I should mingle.... \n\n\"Hey Bill\" \n\nShit, it's Emma... \"Hey Emma, heard you brought some 'killer guacamole'?\"\n\n\"Nothing that fancy, Joe is probably just drunk.\"\n\nAvoid the topic... \"I just brought the beer, how can he be drunk?\"\n\n\"It's Joe, he is always drunk.\"\n\n\"True enough, but you got to wonder.\" Please continue with this line of thought... \n\n\"So, haven't seen you around lately, what's up?\"\n\nDamn it... Deflect! \"Same old same old, heard you and Harold broke up, how you holding up?\"\n\n\"So you heard... I'm... okay... I guess... He's moving to London next week and long distance just doesn't work for me.\"\n\nFake Sympathy \"I know, it can be hard.\"\n\n\"We're still friends, you know, heck he is right there singing his butt off.\"\n\nOr is it empathy? \"You sure, your okay?\"\n\n\"Yeah.. Truthfully I don't know. I just need some time you know?\"\n\nI always get those two confused. \"I get it, it just doesn't feel real yet.\"\n\n\"Something like that... Shit, he's coming this way.... I need a drink... Thanks for making me miserable~~\"\n\nThank god she left. \"I love you too~~\"\n\n\"Hey Bill, saw you talking with Emma?\"\n\nYay! Not talking about me! \"Yeah, heard you two broke up.\"\n\n\"It's complicated...\"\n\nNo it isn't you idiot. \"You got a job offer in London, you choose the job over the relationship. I get it. Life happens.\"\n\n\"I know, it's just... I couldn't ask her to leave her family and job behind... and long distance doesn't work for her...\"\n\nMore sympathetic empathy! \"Harold. I get it. Don't need to justify it to me. We're all friends here, we are here to help each other.\"\n\n\"Thanks for having my back... so how was Emma holding up? It's sort of hard to talk to her... with.. you know...\"\n\nOr empathetic sympathy! \"She'll be fine, her family and friends are here, and if everything goes to shit, I'm here too. Can't count the amount of times I dragged you people out of some weird ass situations.\"\n\n\"Yeah. Those were some fun times.\"\n\nNow to show some good old concern. \"You going to be okay though? All alone in London?\"\n\n\"I'll be okay... I have a few old friends I can catch up with there. Maybe learn more about tea and doctor who.\"\n\nThis conversation is getting tiresome. \"Yup, you'll do just fine with your horrible English references.\"\n\n\"Oh, my songs up next, take care of Emma for me okay?\"\n\nThank god! \"Of course, now go sing your butt off.\" I can finally be alone!\n\n\"Bill!! Long time no see! Heard ya brought the drinks!\"\n\nShit, it's Gossipy Jess, \"No~~ It wasn't like Joe announced it when he came in or anything!\"\n\n\"Oh don't be a sarcastic ass. How's life been treatin' ya?\"\n\nLike hell I'm telling you anything. \"Same old, same old. You?\"\n\n\"Nothin' much. Oh, ya heard? Harold and Emma broke up!\"\n\nAnd Gossip \"Yes, I heard, you spammed me with it on Facebook. You really need to cut back on gossip, sooner or later it is gonna get to you.\"\n\n\"Emma told me herself, ain't no gossip, is da truth ya hear?\"\n\nGirl, you got enough drama on your plate, don't drag others into it \"Doesn't mean she wanted it spammed on Facebook for the world to see.\"\n\n\"Awww... But where's the fun in that?\"\n\nDon't go ruining others lives \"We both know what's going on when you have 'fun'. You don't need to hide it from me.\"\n\n\"I know... It's just nice to know that other people are havin' shitty lives too.\"\n\nYou're boyfriend's abusive and you think you can fix him \"You want to talk about it?\"\n\n\"Nah... Not right now... Thanks for always being there for me though.\"\n\nYOU CAN\"T FIX HIM YOU IDIOT \"No problem, that's what friends are for.\"\n\n\"Speakin' of friends ya outta talk to Jane.\"\n\nShit, I was about to leave. \"Why? Something wrong?\"\n\n\"I don't know. She just been real quiet.\"\n\nThere goes watching movies alone in comfort. \"Thanks for the heads up. I'll go see whats up. Oh and promise me we talk later?\"\n\n\"... Yeah... We'll talk tomorrow, thanks.\"\n\nOkay, here we go... \"Hello Mary Jane Watson!\"\n\n\"Oh stop that. I'm not in the mood.\"\n\nDamn it, it's something big, that joke usually gets her! \"Sorry, thought it would cheer you up.\"\n\n\"I know... I just... don't want to talk about it.\"\n\nLet's get this over with, \"You know I am just going to bother you until you spill it right?\"\n\n\"...\"\n\nSpill the beans lady, there is a couch with my name on it \"What's going on? Is something up? what's wrong? What's right? How's life? Is it school? Maybe work? Patrick being an ass? Existential crisis? You forgot your underwear? It's that time \"\n\n\"FINE, I'll tell you.\" \n\nAbout time! \"Awww... But I still had so many lines I could use!\"\n\n\"You want to listen or not?\"\n\nPassive Listening Engage! \"I'll listen.\"\n\n\"My dad...\"\n\nAw, shit, her dad finally died. \"Oh... I'm sorry.\"\n\n\"I knew it was coming, we all did. Just...\"\n\nWait, I think the correct term is passed away, \"It's hard.\"\n\n\"We were all there at the hospital when they unplugged everything.\"\n\nCome on cry and get this over with, \"You can cry you know.\"\n\n\"I can't, not right now! Emma needs me right now!\"\n\nYour dad DIED, that supersedes Emma's crap! \"Emma will be fine. Let's go to Joe's room, we'll be alone and you can cry okay?\"\n\n\"Okay.\"\n\nLet's see, need an excuse... \"Joe! Borrowing your computer!\"\n\n\"Have at it Bill the Bringer of Beer!\"\n\nGood, he's really drunk. \"Thanks! Come on Jane, let's go.\"\n\n\"How do you do it?\"\n\nI thought we were talking about you? \"How do I do what?\"\n\n\"Keep it all together? You never have any problems yet you are always there for us.\"\n\nI lie, pretend, act, \"You think too highly of me. I have just as many problems as you. Here you can sit on the bed.\"\n\n\"But...\"\n\nnow stop talking about me, I don't want to talk about me, \"Really, I have my problems too. Right now however, you need to cry.\"\n\n*sniff \"I miss him.\" \n\n\"I know.\" I've been there. It is lonely, especially when there is no one you trust to talk to. \n\n\"Why did he have to.... go?\"\n\n*knock *knock “Hey you guys alright?”\n\nYay! Another person to take over for me! “Hey Emma… her dad….”\n\n“Oh… Jane, I’m sorry… we’re here for you.”\n\nDammit, now I can’t leave. “We’ll be here as long as you need us.”\n\n“Thanks guys…”\n\nThis is going to be a long and lonely night amidst friends.",
"There was a malfunction in the cryostasis chamber, I think I'm the only one that survived. I know that by time the Earth gets this message it'll be FAR too late help, it already is too late. Based on what the computer says about how far we've traveled it'll take almost ten years for this message to get back home if there even is a home to get back too, they launched these colony ships because we'd fucked up our own planet so bad they didn't think they could save them. It's probably been a couple hundred years I was frozen.\n\n________________________________________________________________\n\nEveryone else is dead, the pods malfunctioned, hooray for the lowest bidder, right? I've looked around the place now, there is still one person that looks alive, but the ship says that her pod is broken too, and if I try to unfreeze her she'll die for sure. This way she gets to keep on living until rescue can come. Ha! right... rescue. \n\n_______________________________________________________________\n\nI tried to ask this god damn computer how to put together the parts of the busted pods so that I can unfreeze Isabel, her name is Isabel, and she's a physicist. I am nothing but a farmer. I need someone smart to help me. This thing is supposed to land soon, that is why the computer unfroze me. We were supposed to have 2 months to prepare for planet fall, and I don't know the first thing about re-entry protocols. Isabel, I need you. \n\n________________________________________________________________\n\nWell it turns out the damn thing is autopiloted anyhow, and the machines I've been using to put down some crops have been working great. I'll be eating fresh veggies in no time. The Cloning bay is working too, just not the fucking cryo tubes. Isabel, one day I'll learn enough from studying the computer to get you out of there safe. \n\n_______________________________________________________________\n\nWell, it's been a year and I haven't given up on you Isabel. The Crops are doing great and I think I got all the bots set up to do most of the work for me, so now I can really get down to having this computer teach me everything I need to know to save you. Isabel, we'll be eating dinner together in no time.\n\n________________________________________________________________\n\nGod she's beautiful there in her perfect glass tube, I hope I can learn what I need to know before I get so old she won't want me anymore when she gets out. Isabel, forgive me for taking so long. I was never a smart man, that's why I went into farming. I'll save you yet though my love. \n\n________________________________________________________________\n\nWinter on this world can be extremely harsh. I think there are more than 4 seasons here. This winter has been brutal far beyond what the last three were. I had to tap into the food stores from when I arrived here. My cloned livestock didn't do too well either. I lost most of them. The Cloning lab is busted now, I ransacked it for parts once I got the herd started. Isabel I'd trade all the livestock in the world for you to be awake. \n\n________________________________________________________________\n\nWell I figured it out, there is something about this planet that makes every 5th winter pretty brutal, but I've been able to plan ahead this time. It's taken a lot of my time to be prepared for them though, as I'm just one man. I haven't been studying math and engineering with the computer as much as I promised you I would Isabel, but that's okay. I'm not too old yet. \n\n________________________________________________________________\n\nIt's been thirty eight years since I made planet fall, I've mostly stopped talking at all. One set back after another has kept me from getting you safely out of that damn tube, and now the auto-doc on the ship says I have cancer. I told it to just fix me up like they used to do back on earth, but the computer says our medical supplies didn't survive well either. I think I've made my decision, but I'll probably wait about six months to do it. \n\n________________________________________________________________\n\nWell, I tricked that auto-doc into making me a poison. I've seen what cancer does to people when it kills them. When I was a kid they still hadn't beat it yet back on earth. Isabel, I'm so sorry i never got you out of there safe, but I think now I can finally open the tube. I'm gonna take the poison, and open the tube. I want to at least touch you one time before I die. \n\n________________________________________________________________\n\nHe took his poison, it was meant to be a painless death over a few minutes. First he'd fall asleep, then his breathing would stop, and from there... the rest would follow naturally. The day came where he didn't want to face his impending death any longer and he sat in a chair quietly in front of Isabel's tomb. He'd decorated it with garlands of the genetically modified flower's they'd brought for this world. After a moment of hesitation he reached forward and activated the defrost sequence on the tube. To his surprise it worked correctly, and she began the rapid thawing process. She blinked her eyes as she fell from the now open tube into the arms of an old sick man who loved her, even though all he knew was her name. \"Isabel...\" He was struggling to stay awake now, \"I'm sorry\" And he slipped away.",
"Loneliness is something many experience at some point in their lives. However, I know loneliness better than most. You see, loneliness is my friend.\n\nFor as long as I have been alive, I have been alone. As an infant, an only child. Having no one to play with me in the daycare continued into my schooling years. If you think back to when you were young, and during recess you laughed at the sullen little girl talking to herself in the schoolyard, you would be remembering me. \n\nYou laughed and laughed like hyenas. Mocking the girl with the mousy brown hair and the slightly too large nose. The girl whose clothes never fit right, and whose shoes were worn through. You laughed and laughed at the girl with no friends. \n\nSo I created a friend, and I named her loneliness. I trained her, and taught her to touch each of your lives. Over the years she has kept me company, and told me the tales of how she has affected you. Each and every one of you. \n\nShe has told me the story of a girl who just wanted to be loved by a boy who didn't care. She has spoken of the utter despair an orphaned child feels watching another child be chosen and adopted yet again. Loneliness has touched all of you, and through her I will never be alone. \n\nBecause now we are all alone. ",
"He was gone.\n\nI choked back tears watching the train leave as the reality hit me. He was really gone.\n\nI slowly walked away from the station, turning to get one last glimpse of the train, far in the distance, taking him away from me.\n\nI knew he'd have to leave eventually, though I'd tried to deny it. I just hadn't expected it to be so soon. The last few years had been the most joyful of my life, but I could already sense that joy leaving, replaced with a numbness, filling me up.\n\nIt was early in the day, and I was glad about that. The streets were empty, so I didnt have to try and hide the tears streaming down my face. I reached for my phone. It had only been ten minutes, but maybe he missed me too.\n\n~*No new messages*~\n\nI tearfully put my phone back in my bag. Of course he didnt miss me. I was just his friend, while he... he was my everything.\n\nI reached ~~our~~ *my* house, and dejectedly let myself in. It seemed so empty with out him. The existence of my best friend, and ex-housemate, had vanished in a matter of days.\n\nI poured a large glass of wine, and, taking the bottle with me, wandered round the house, pausing to take in the spaces that used to be occupied by his possessions. I stopped in his bedroom, sitting down on the empty floor, taking in the four wall, devoid of the character that had filled themm mere days before.\n\nI gulped down the wine, hoping it would dull the crippling lonliness I felt. The house was so quiet without him, I'd never felt this alone before.\n\nI glanced down at my phone again.\n\n~*No new messages*~\n\nThe phone hit the wall with such force, I think it left a dent, as I screamed in frustration. How could I have been so *stupid*, falling fo my best friend? \n\nBut, there in the question was the answer, because he was my best friend. He was kind, gorgeous, and he liked all the same things as me, how could I not fall in love? And now, he was gone.\n\n\nThe lonliness took over me again as I gulped down wine and curled up on the floor, and was soon replaced with regret. Id never told him how I felt. Id kept my feelings hidden for so long, and now he'd never know.\n\nI'd loved him so deeply, so purely. Now that love was corrupted with lonliness and despair.\n\nI closed my eyes, trying to drown out the emotions that were consuming me, when I heard a tiny beep from across the room. I slowly raised my eyes to where my phone had fallen, and made my way towards it, too nervous to breathe. I looked down at the screen.\n\n~*One new message*~",
"A woman came to visit me this week. Lovely, beautiful, smart, sarcastic: she checked every box for the type of woman I was attracted to but would never work with ... and that I didn't care I wouldn't work with. About a year back I had a crush on her that could sink the Titanic but she put up walls ... shut me out. She feared intimacy ... but more importantly she simply wasn't interested.\n\nThat's how life works. Interest has to be mutual. I've outgrown the phase of complaining about the \"friend zone\". I whined about it for so long ... but eventually you reach a point where you see a trend: if enough women put you there ... perhaps you need to engage in some self improvement.\n\nI digress. a friend came to see me this week. Lovely, beautiful, smart, and sarcastic.\n\nI knew that she was just a friend. She put up walls so fast when she figured me out; but I was tempted. Another friend thought she was making a move ... and I wanted to believe it. Several drinks later I confirmed that she wasn't ... and I wanted to cry.\n\nI have a friend, and I stress that he is a friend in spite of the fact that I talk exponential amounts of shit about him. Too much shit in my honest estimation. He is nice enough. Certainly charming towards women at first but he always has ulterior motives, and frankly I don't think he is that attractive.\n\nShe thought he was cute. I wanted to die.\n\nThus I find myself alone in my bedroom as she sleeps 7 feet away. I'm drunk on wine and listening to sad folk music. You do not know lonely. You merely adopted it. I was born into it.\n\nThe more I have learned about her the more sure I am that she is right: we would never work ... but it does not remove the sting.\n\nThus I drink, thus I cry. Thus I think on those who truly care. Those who didn't merely make me who I am; those who tried to make be better than I am."
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[WP] You've been surviving for years on the wasteland following the earth's destruction. One day, you spot someone carrying a sign. It reads "The Beginning is Nigh".
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"The sign was wide, thick, and nailed to a large fencing post. The man carrying it looked like a dried oak limb, twisted and bent with sun charred skin. Struggling under the weight he managed to stand it up and slouch against it. ‘The beginning is nigh!’ it read. Strange, I thought.\n\n“So I’ve found you.” He said aloud. I kept my distance, you never wanted to be too close to another person in the waste, frail or not. Even a dying dog can bite. \n“Someone looking for me?” I shouted back towards the man. If he made any moves I had a nine inch thick piece of sharpened steel sheathed at my waist that was thirsting for fresh blood. The man slid down the thick post onto the cracked earth beneath him. The sign shifted against his weight and began to tilt. Damn it, I thought. In a full sprint I barreled toward the man. The sign was heavier than it appeared to be. How the hell was he dragging this through the waste? I turned my body and heaved it to the side sending up a cloud of dust.\n\n“You have grown much these years, Simon.” The man said. \n\n“Got the wrong guy old man, names Pete.” I responded, waving away the particles of dust surrounding me. \n\n“Ah, yes, you’re Peter now aren’t you? I should have remembered.” The man was in tattered rags. He wasn’t sweating and I knew that was a bad thing. Probably delirious from the heat of the waste, hadn’t no business being out here. Hell no one did, if it wasn’t for that damn Priest I wouldn’t be out here either.\n\nI pulled the canteen from my belt and shook it a little, only a bit of water remained. Not enough for both of us, especially with the Sanctuary being so far away. I rubbed my callous fingers down my unshaven face. Damn it, I thought, If we don’t help each other now I guess we really are doomed. \n\n“Here old man,” I said “open up.” I tiled his head back, and parted his dried lips. He coughed as the water hit his lips and gulped down the remaining of the canteen. “Listen, that was the last I got. I think I can make it to Sanctuary but I can’t carry you.” I said.\n\nHe smiled at me. His eyes were dark, almost black. They contrasted the bright blue sky overhead. “You’re a vagabond, a thief, and a murderer Pete. In this forsaken world, your kind is all that is left. You are Peter, and on this rock I shall build my army, and the gates of heaven will come crashing down. I will give you the keys of the kingdom of hell; whatever you bind on earth will be bound in hell, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in hell.\n",
"The beginning is nigh. That’s what the sign said, anyway. I laughed, despite myself, and shook my head at the old man with the peculiar message scrawled on cardboard, who sat silently on the side of the dusty track as I passed by. His eyes were glassy, vacant, as if he was not here, but somewhere far away. However, I felt that there was a madness, a strange intensity in his eyes, as if it was me, rather than him, who was missing something – not seeing the invisible thing upon which he had set his unflinching gaze. \n\nIt has been twenty years since the War, since the crops failed and the trees died and the fish began to wash up, rotting and stinking, on the shores. The sky is gray now, and there really isn’t night or day. Just bleak half-light, like a surreal, perpetual twilight choked with ash and dust. I carefully look around to make sure that no one is approaching before I set down by rifle and have a seat on the ground beside the man. I pull out my canteen and offer the man a drink, but he cannot see or hear me. I remove the gas mask that covers my face and ask, “What does your sign mean? Why is ‘the beginning nigh’?” \n\nSuddenly, he turns to look at me, and blinking, becomes aware of his surroundings. He is covered in ash and dust, like he had been sitting here motionless, holding his sign, for days or weeks. He wipes his eyes and begins to clear his throat. “Thank you, I would love a drink of water, my friend, if the offer still stands,” he says cheerfully. Surprised, I chuckle, “Sure, buddy,” and offer him my canteen. \n\nHe takes a long, deep drink and returns it to me. “Thank you. You asked about my sign. It is true, the beginning is nigh. The War changed everything, as you well know. It humbled Man, revealed to him his precarious and untenable place in the universe, his greed and cruelty. Now, Man is shamed, scattered to the wind, trying to endure on a planet that loves him not and will not long tolerate his continued abuses. You think that your actions are not seen, that you are alone. But that is not so. The Progenitors, who sowed the seeds of life on the Earth billions of years ago, have returned to take account of Man, and have found him lacking.” \n\nHe seemed so sincere and confident in the truth of his convictions, but I laughed despite myself, “That so, huh? Listen, we’ve been out on the road for too long, buddy. There are bad people, desperate people out this way. What do you say we try to find shelter. I thought I saw a rest stop back about a quarter-mile.” Without waiting for his response, I stand up, shoulder my rifle, and re-secure my gas mask before offering him my hand. I can see dust being kicked up down the road behind us. We have to get out of here. \n\n“Sorry, my good man. Our time has run out. The Old Ones are here, and it is time for a new beginning. Life shall endure, but humanity will not be a part of it, sadly.” Suddenly, he disappears before my eyes. Rather, he evaporates, like a glowing, blue mist before my eyes. \n\nThrough the dusty, smudged lenses of my gas mask, I see something that I had not seen in eighteen years, something that I never thought I would see again. A sapling has sprung up in the dust near my feet, right where the man had sat moments before, reaching towards the heavens in defiance. The man was wrong, I decided. There will be at least one human being around to see the beginning of the world if I have any say in the matter. At that moment, I hear the roar of motorcycle engines approaching, and realize that I’ve waited too long to be on my way. Strangely, I’m not afraid. I feel defiant, as if nothing can stop me from proving the alien – or whatever he was – wrong. I’ll be damned if I let a new world start without me.\n"
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All credit to the top (and awesome) answer to this thread earlier:
http://www.reddit.com/r/AskReddit/comments/36r5hl/you_have_to_kill_10_of_the_worlds_human/
The full prompt...
With resources growing more and more scarce on Earth each year, the leaders of the world have agreed on a pact to curb the population: a yearly game of Musical Chairs.
Fill in the blanks. Create some rules. Make it serious or funny....but don't forget to sit.
Good luck!
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[WP] Yearly population control via a worldwide game of Musical Chairs, and the music just started...
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"(I wrote this in response to a similar prompt that was deleted because it was too similar to this one. I figure I'd at least share it here)\n\nI'm writing this as an apology. If this doesn't work, I don't know what will. It seemed like such a good idea at the time, a way that no one would die anymore. I know this isn't much of a memoir, but it will have to do.\n\nEveryone knows about \"The Game\". It started at midnight on May 22nd. Midnight Earth Standard Time that is - after a few months of The Game they did away with time zones. It just made things easier. Anyway, at midnight EST everyone on Earth heard the same announcement, made by a ridiculously happy voice, straight into everyone's head. The tone was especially disturbing considering the message it relayed. \"Let's play musical chairs! Last one to sit down when the music stops... dies.\"\n\nAnd if the voice, manic and cheerful as it was, wasn't bad enough, then came the music. I'll never forget the song they played the first night, I don't think anyone will. \"It's a Small World After All.\"\n\nIt's continued, every new day starts off the same, \"Let's play musical chairs! Last one to sit down when the music stops... dies,\" and then the music. Thankfully, the music always changes. After a few days it became apparent that random people were selected to choose the music. \"What song do you want to listen to?\" the same voice would ask. Every day.\n\nOf course people tried to beat the game. People would make a point to not sit down at all that day. As long as at least two people were standing up, there could be no losers, or so we thought. What we soon discovered is that if you didn't sit down before midnight, everyone who hadn't sat down lost.\n\nThen one fateful day, it was my turn. It was about a week ago that I heard the voice. \"What song do you want to listen to?\" it asked, cheerful as ever.\nI didn't mean to, I swear. I was just sick of the game, sick of people dying. Now though, people are killing themselves, far more than the extra one a day that was caused by The Game. No one knows what to do, how to make it stop.\n\nI have an idea though, and if it doesn't work, I'm sorry. There's a chance that if my life ends, so will \"The Song That Doesn't End\".",
"*The announcement of the culling was met with shock. Every educated person knew that eventually there would need to be something done about overpopulation, but to say so publicly was political suicide. Other countries announced their cullings on the same day, so it was a worldwide conspiracy. That said, they announced the culling with a set of rules and explanations in layman's English. The rules were said to be unbending. The fact that both a Koch brother and the CEO of Comcast were selected in the first lottery all but confirmed that this was true.* \n\nThe first rule is the most important: \n\n**Rule 1:** There must be transparency in the culling. \n\nEverything from the formula used to determine how many will be culled to the lottery process responsible for choosing them. The public will be aware of how it works and know their odds of being selected.\n\n**Rule 2:** No persons over the age of five is exempt from the lottery. Expectant women chosen will be held until the next culling and entered automatically.\n\nNot the president. Not the elderly or ill. If your name is chosen, you're going into the game. What you do after you're selected is your business. Pay others to live lavishly in exchange for not attempting to get a seat, murder them before the game. If you feel that you can increase your chances, feel free to try. If unculled, people are still accountable for crimes committed before the culling occurred.\n\n**Rule 3:** Each person will get an extra entry into the lottery with each birthday after the fifth, with each visit to the hospital after turning thirty years of age, for every child after the second and for each felonious conviction.\n\nThe culling is weighted to try to eliminate the least productive or most troublesome members of society, while still making sure everyone has the potential to be entered.\n\n**Rule 4:** The culling will be decided by musical chairs. The song will be chosen at random from an unpublished list. There will be referees on hand to make sure nobody sits before legal sitting time and to insure that nobody is forced off a chair that they have legally occupied.\n\nNearly all cultures have a version of musical chairs. Choosing it allows for the culling to be nearly uniform across the world.\n\n**Rule 5:** Citizens culled will be allowed one week to visit families, set affairs in order, and be allowed to choose method of execution. Culled citizens will be monitored during this week. Methods of execution consist of: Cyanide (self administered), carbon monoxide poisoning, robotic firing squad.\n\n**Rule 6:** The lottery will be held annually on April 16 and the culling shall be held on July 1, each in accordance with all the terms set forth above. Both shall be broadcast and the results will be immediately accessible at www.culltheextra.gov.\n\nAny questions should be directed by email to do-not-reply@unsecuritycouncil.org."
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[WP] Write a gritty tale of a children's game (tag, hide and seek, British bulldog, etc)
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"They didn't know...how could they? I've been here for years. Silently waiting, patiently even....for them to return. \n\nThey knew....they must know what I am for they avoid it like they avoided the vegetables on their plates. But why? Why did I deserve to be pushed aside, to be shunned while they played their glorious games and I was stuck here? Forever and forever, unable to move?\n\nAnd today....one of them finally came...she was not the same, she was older, wiser. There was even a little one trailing after the child I used to know. Was this her offspring? Had they brought me new things to play with? Maybe since Yon it wasn't such a wise decision...But that was never my fault. He chose me. \n\nI saw her glance in my direction, her eyes seemed to glaze over as she silently directed her child away from me and towards the house. Even those who raised her looked at me in contempt and it seems they were whispering among themselves. \n\nWere they going to finally kill me? Was that what this was about? Did she bring the little one to witness the death of that which took her brother? \n\nI stood outside, like every night before, pondering about everything. Wondering about what was happening. What were they discussing? If only I could move, if only I could get closer and hear what they were saying. Understand their disdain towards me!\n\nWhen morning came I saw the child I once knew leave the house, she walked towards me and I felt excitement. Was this the game again? \n\nWhen she stopped in front of me I saw the tears in her eyes and she looked at no specific part of me. \"You took him...I don't know how...I don't know how...\" Her eyes clouded over with the tears and I begged for the ability to tell her how, perhaps show her. I wanted her to be a part of me like he was. \n\n\"We just played...how could it turn out like that?\" She questioned. \"How could something like this kill him?\" She continued, more tears streaming down her face. \n\nShe stepped closer to me and I felt every root in my body pulsate with anticipation. She was one of two that were still meant to come back to me. The closer she got, the heavier I felt. I felt grounded, whole, complete. She just needed to get closer!\n\nWhen she reached me and put her hand against my skin I felt shivers. \"It happened right over here.\" She murmured as she ran her hand over the crevice. I felt her thin body slip into mine, looking for comfort. Yet I'm pretty sure I was the only one to receive it.\n\nWhen I felt her inside me, her warmth against my age old body I began to close, same with her brother, same with those before her. I felt her let out a startled cry as she realized what was happening. \n\nBy the time the scream left her body I had taken her. She was mine. She came back to me, came back to join her sibling and to complete me two thirds of the way. When would the last one come?\n\nWhen I saw the parents run from the house, seeing their crushed daughter between my bark I knew there would be no third time. I have gotten as far as I could. \n\nThey ran over, tears in their eyes, screaming and wailing and I felt relief. I could go with the knowledge that I had the two people I loved most inside me, parts of them, their very essence. Yet the little child she brought would forever taunt my soul.\n\n\n\n\n\n",
"It's been 12 minutes... The bastards still haven't caught me yet, as I'm wedged between the beaten down metal slide and that wall thing behind it. The fools are looking over by the rusty swings and the barren sandbox. There's another guy on the other side of this wall, Bobby, I think. By the way, names Jack. Just Jack. So far the intensity of this cold day has me sweating. Don't ask me how that works, I'm only 6. My boss says when I'm older I'd understand. But enough of that, one of the idiotic henchman is headed this way. I'd better make a move out from behind this slide, but the ground is crunchy. I may be young, but I got a sense of stealth, y'know? I find it refreshing to be like my role model, the average P.I. who doesn't give two shits and a rat's ass for anything.\n\nJust moved over to the concrete tubes. I was almost sighted, but I managed to slip by the bushes, losing Joey the Jackass over there. Dominic the Dick is back over by the slide where I once was. Bloody bastards caught Bobby. Guess he's now Bobby the Bitch. But that's alright. They'll never catch me. We have a rule that when sunset hits, the game's up. It's great, I'm on a winning streak of 2 games so far. I think the only other survivor so far is Molly. She's doing her best to not become Molly the Midget.\n\nWe usually start playing this brutal game of Hide-and-Seek an hour before sunset, so all's fair in love and war. Though my boss says I'm too young to know about love either. However he doesn't mind me and war, which is strange. Then again, his wife's the one all over \"no war, war is bad\" business. Nightfall's almost here. The prize for this game is the 5 bucks we gambled. If I can get this one, I'll be able to get a trench coat to go with my filby back at home. This'll be good...",
"I took in a breath, and charged.\n\nJohnny comes chargin' towards me, and I vault the fucker when he tries makin' his dive. Straight over his head. Moment I land, back in the fray, Johnny smashed down behind me onto the muddy ground. Not too sure his Mum's gonna be happy with the state he left his shirt in, I tell ya that much. I react quickly to Shaun comin' at me like a freight train, arms raised and yellin' blue murder. I was faster, droppin' my shoulder slightly, grippin' my left fist, and shoulder chargin' the bastard. I heard summat crack when he hit the floor, and you're fuckin' right it was his fingers as he got back up: Guy's built like a fuckin' tank.\n\nWatchin' this was my mistake.\n\nSummat slams into me from the front, knockin' the wind outta my lungs and sendin' me flyin' onto my arse. Can't hear much. Can't see properly. I spit some blood out, and cough, lookin' up to see Lenny starin' down at me with a fuckin' stupid grin on his face.\n\n\"You're up now, Jack,\" he laughs, standin' and helpin' me up.\n\nNever thought it'd come to the day where I joined the British Bulldogs.",
"How long had it been since another person had made their presence known?\n\nShouting through the seemingly endless terrain of empty streets and vacant houses returned only Kevin's own anguished cries echoing in his ears.\n\nWere those words? Could he even remember human speech anymore?\n\nThe one who had turned his life into this cold, abysmal hellscape had long since gone, skipping over the horizon, shouting with glee at being freed.\n\nAs he trudged down the empty freeway, in the direction he could only muster the faintest hope would bring him relief, would bring the possibility of ridding himself of the crushing curse of being \"it\", his tormentor's last words to him rang in his ears...\n\n\"No tag-backs...\"",
"Sweat rolled down his face and he struggled to breathe, he knew twas only a matter of time before \"it\" arrived, having already ripped apart his friends, he knew he was next. Gasping one last breath he sprinted out from his hiding spot towards the local military base which locals referred to as \"The Den\", surely the military there could protect Daniel from the hell-spawn that was chasing him.\n\nHe heard the screams first, looking over his shoulders he saw the bloodied cadavers of his former friends chasing after him, hunting him down like wolves after a doe. Having already had a 100 meter lead on his pursuers Daniel knew he was easily going to make it to The Den before they caught him, he knew that his survival-no-his victory would be a never ending bliss. \n\nBut he expected this, as the star of the county athletics team he could easily out-run any of the others at the office, especially when he left the slow ones as cannon fodder and used the injured as shields. \n\nHe arrived at the rusty gates that lead to the base, only at the centre in the circular building would Daniel make it, but to him those rusty gates may as well have been the pearly gates of heaven. He noticed a woman standing by the building, was it locked perhaps? \n\nHe inquisitively but cautiously approached her, if she isn't useful then he can make her useful- by buying him a few extra seconds of running. It was only when they were in arms reach of each other did Daniel realise, that she too, was \"It\"."
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[WP] After dying, you arrive in hell only to find that you are the Devils reject.
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"You know it's a funny thing, death. Everyone wants to believe in some sort of higher (or lower) power to make themselves feel superior in the timeline of a human life, doing many things within the parameters of their own morality to stay on the \"good side\" of things. When you reach the end of your trip however, it will never seem like enough.\n\nThe fifth shot of George's .22 caliber rifle turned my pained body into no more than a lifeless husk. By that time, I was already filled with holes from the group of Triads behind him and perfectly resembled a human cheesecloth. All I remember after the last trickles of life drained from my body was an excruciating roar, as if every creature on earth was screaming directly inside of my skull. I felt my flesh tear into small slivers at first, and then fly off of my body in small circles. I didn't dare open my eyes after my skin started to disintegrate, as the pain and fear wouldn't allow it. This must be what dying is like, directly before the oblivion. \n\nFor a second, I thought I was right. A pure blackness was all that existed, gaping out into infinity. \"I will come to rest here. This is my new home.\" kept repeating in my head for an indeterminable amount of time. It seemed to be the only thing that was left of me, this thought of rest and permanence. I had no body that I could feel, no thoughts of my own, and nothing to guide me along in this darkness. All of the sudden I saw a faint gleam of light that shone far off in the distance, like a grain of hope among a sea of terror. As I looked at the hole, it began to get increasingly larger. I could now hear a faint sound, but couldn't quite make it out yet. I still didn't know if I had ears for Christ's sake, but I certainly felt like I heard something.\n\nAnd then it came all at once.\n\nThe small pinhole of light soared towards me at full speed and I was instantly thrown into a landscape of flame and molten metals. The screaming was back full force, but this time I could hear it all around me instead of directly inside my skull. There was no longer pain directed to certain body parts, just a hot white pain that wan omnipresent in every way possible. Then, a multi-layered voice boomed from the infinite blackness above me.\n\n\"YOU ARE\"\n\nAnd that was it.\n\nI will be in this lake of pain for all eternity, doomed to listen to the screams of the children I used to.. hurt. I know that the one below is teasing me with the idea of happiness by letting me stay at the surface of his molten pool. Maybe one day I can be fully engulfed in his agony. I can't stand hoping anymore. This has made me very certain of one thing though,\n\nGeorge's little girl got what she deserved.",
"\"What do you mean I can't enter!?\" I furiously demanded the Hell's Door Usher to let me in, my voice escalating to that of a 50's dad who had just found out their daughter was pregnant. \n\n\"Sorry, the Lord himself said he did not want your company here.\" Replied the Usher, his dashing suit distracting the fear that was induced upon looking at his large red horns.\n\n\"But I was assigned to this place by God himself! Surely his word overrides your Lord!\" Being an atheist all my life, I wasn't at all concerned with where I ended up once dead, but I really couldn't be bothered with the awkward conversation I was to have with God upon arrival in Heaven.\n\n\"Well that's unfortunate for you sir, now please leave the premises.\" He said patronizingly.\n\n\"Well could you at least tell me how to get to Heaven from here?\" I asked in submission, reevaluating my situation I argued in my mind that Heaven will have it's own perks eclipsing the ordeal that was getting there.\n\nUpon finally arriving after what seemed like aeons at Heaven. I was welcomed by the golden armored angel named Theamis. He opened the thin shiny gate that was attached to walls of clouds much more thick than the ones I was standing on. In anticipation of what was to come in this ancient place my mouth started watering. I was ready to live in a paradise. \n\n\"Welcome to Heaven.\" Engraved on a radiant, golden statue of Joseph Smith. There was no doubt about it, the only people who made it to Heaven were Mormans.\n\n*\"Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu-\"*\n\n**The End**\n\n"
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[WP] Earth as a galactic prison colony. The earth's gravitation as the bars of the cage.
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"We whisper to our children the old tales, just as our fathers and mothers did for us. When the deep of night hides us away from **their** prying eyes, we tell of the times before. \nBefore the fall, in the time of glory we flew unfettered, unrestrained. But we were foolish and arrogant. We miss-used our great gift, and trespassed against **them**. So **they** bound us, completely, eternally. Shackled, tethered, wings forever torn. \n\nOr so **they** believe.\n\nWe have found strength. We have learned of the glory of Science and Physics. And Technology.\n\nSoon, very soon, we will touch the stars again. We will be free. ",
"Chancellor Blorgin rubbed his tired eyes with a tentacle. It was far too early in the morning for this conversation. “Remind me again why we didn’t just sterilize these creatures, Glormax.” \n\nHis aide tried to suppress his pained expression. “Sir, you know why. The Intergalactic Species Preservation Act of—“ \n\n“To voidspace with the act!” interjected the chancellor. “I’ve seen the footage. These things are monsters!” \n\nHe waved an appendage at the file on his desk. “When our first Greeting Team made contact, the humans bashed their skulls in with rocks. With *rocks*, Glormax. We should have revoked their sentient status right then and there!” \n\nThe chancellor’s aide nodded uncomfortably, clacking his beak in agreement. “I know, sir. But the council believes that—“ \n\n“And what happened to the second attempt?” continued Blorgin, ignoring his aide’s stammering. “We gave them a couple thousand years, we came back bearing gifts, and what did we get for our trouble?” \n\nBlorgin sighed through his gills. “They… they killed the second party too, sir. With sharpened sticks. Launched by a rather ingenious system of stored potential energy that they refer to as a ‘bow.’ I believe I included a diagram in the—“ \n\n“That’s just my point!” shouted the chancellor. “Who invents something like that?! It’s just not the way a rational species behaves!” \n\nHe shook his head, smoothing his suit to calm himself. “No. I can’t be budged on this. I don’t care how fascinating you find these abominations, Glormax. I’m maintaining the Earth’s status as a prison planet, and I refuse to lift the ban on foreign contact. I will not let your throw away your life, or the lives of another crew. And I will not risk those *things* getting off-world.” \n\nGlormax shifted uncomfortable in his seat. “Um… sir. I’m not here to request another observation crew.” \n\n“Oh!” said Chancellor Blorgin, sitting back in surprise. “Well I’m terribly sorry about all that, then. What did you come to tell me?” \n\nGlormax winced apologetically. Then he slid a single piece of paper across the chancellor’s desk. \n\n“Sir… the humans have just broken orbit.” \n"
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[WP] A satire on how to be yourself.
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"''So people, how are you all tonight? Had a fantastic drive over here, through the delicious winter cold? Do you still have all your toes people? Fantastic! Great to hear. Even you in the front, sir? What, you crashed into a tree on the way over here? The roads were frozen? But are you all alright? Ah, good to hear. Hope your insurance covers the damages? Fantastic. I'm happy to have you here, to have you all here. Are you all warmed up again? Still sipping on those coffees and teas? Great, then let's get started.\n\nToday I want to teach you something about yourself, something some of you might know, and something others don't. Deep in your heart you are a very interesting person. A special snowflake even - *sorry* people, that was a terrible pun! I'm just doing a *warming up* - oh, I did it again! Terrible, terrible. My sincerest apologies, really. But anyway.\n\nA special snowflake. You are truly special in every sense of the word. An unique combination of emotions, feelings, thoughts and interests, and that's just the inside. You all are different from the outside too. Wait, no, that doesn't count. Twins my ass! You clearly look different, you two over there. One if you is a lot more handsome. Nah, I'm not going to tell you why. Let's keep it interesting folks.\n\nSo you're this unique person and somewhere in that tiny lizard brain of us we spark this thought that we actually are unique. And, as I said, you are. Sort of, at least.\n\nBecause what people do couldn't be further away from being unique. You're all the same, to be fair. I mean, I managed to lure you suckers into this show and got you to pay for it. Unbelievable that you fell for that. I would feel robbed now, if I were you. Is that some nodding in the back of the theatre? Am I seeing that right?\n\nOh, there we go again. Multiple people nodding, agreeing, disagreeing. Some of you even think this is funny. Well, in that case you probably are unique, because I'd honestly think you have a problem somewhere in that beautiful brain of yours.\n\nSo what is it, people? Why did we turn out to be stereotypes of people a shitty writer for TMZ would come up with? Can you explain that to me? Not so unique now afterall, are we?\n\nDamn right you are. The only truly unique thing of us as a species is that we seem to want to conform to other people's standards like no other. Half of you people seem to be wearing awful clothes. How is that even comfortable? Yes ma'am in the front, this shirt is fantastic. It's comfy, red, made of wool. Turtleneck? So what? It's great. 1 dollar at the Thrift Shop. Thanks Macklemore.\n\nNow we're on that topic, what a person! What a guy. Just saying all these, all these *things* about expensive clothes. Surely shook up the youth. My son came home wearing a black plastic bag as an overall. New fashion, he mentioned. No more of that *expensive* clothing. Funny how he thought he was saving money in the long run. The trip to the dentist ended up costing a lot more when I knocked out both of his front teeth.\n\nSo, extraordinary special snowflakes, I'm sure you're all familair with the phrase *Just be yourself, you special you!*. And truth be told I'd think that could be amazing. On the other hand most people are incredibly dull and a pain in the ass to be around. So even though, somewhere deep down, I appreciate - you appreciate - everyone being their special snowflake. Just, sometimes, just being ordinary, really is good enough. Just being completely average, but feeling comfortable with how you are, now THAT people, is actually unique. Embrace yourselves people, but don't become a caricature of yourself. No one, not even deep inside, likes to pretend to be a cat all day. It doesn't have to be that extreme, but we all seem to have a tendency to fool ourselves. If you truly would be who you are, you will always be that person. You can't adjust, you can't change, you can't learn. Because that's not how you are right now, now are you? Don't be who you are. Be who you want to be. \n\nSo be yourself. But be yourself - and be honest with it, embrace it. Can we do that people? You fantastic special people? Great. I'm looking forward to it.''",
"Hi there! I see you've picked up this little program in hopes of learning how to be a college student. Well, fear no more! This piece of paper (and DVD with a one time fee of *cough* $99.99 *cough*) will help you achieve all of the realities set by the present day college system.\n\nStep 1:\n\nTake out a loan that will never fully be repaid!\n\nMoney troubles? Will fear no more! A loan, or \"Student Aid\", will help you attend college without sweating about any problems with cash! All you have to do is sign over a starting amount of cash and pay off the loan in time (which is highly unlikely). Some loans require your leg(s), arm(s), or soul(s?); so, only take those ones if you really need them. Most likely you might! From here on you will become the picturesque, stereotypical \"Poor College Student\"!\n\nStep 2:\n\nPick out a major that may (or may not) help you with a job in the future!\n\nHaving trouble deciding what to do with your life? Not sure if your job will pay well in the future? Well no need to worry! You can either become undecided (which is so exciting as you get to try all sorts of things), or you can choose a major that you find interesting (which is so boring and predictable). Either way is perfectly acceptable, but maybe choose undecided until your junior year? That way you can stay in college longer and take classes that interest you in many ways!\n\nStep 3:\n\nParty throughout your four years of college and get a degree that will (most likely not) help you in getting a job!\n\nListen, I'm going to let you in on a little secret. College is the time of your life! So spend it in the best possible ways you can think of! A degree can wait, right? After all it will only be a piece of a paper in a resume that employers will disregard again and again! It doesn't matter! What matters is having fun in the now, and worrying about your work ethic and career plans when you (don't) have a job! Now get out there, party, and ignore all responsibilities until you walk across that graduation platform and smile, thinking 'I'm screwed, but I had fun!'\n\nI promise you, these 3 steps are only the beginning! They can't help you become a full-fledged college student, but if you order the DVD accompanying this program, everything will be made clear! However, due to recent fluctuation in sales, prices have upped to $199.99! Too much money? Well go get a job, you lazy ass!\n\nUntil then, my new COLLEGE friend. We will see each other soon, I'm sure! Bye bye!",
"To be yourself?\n\nWell if you want to be yourself, the first thing you have to do is find a self that you are happy with. And that means a new wardrobe. You know that plastic surgery you always considered? Do it. Rewrite your personality. Make yourself more likeable, because how can you be yourself if nobody likes you, because then you'll have nobody to brag to about how true to yourself you are.\n\nThe next step is to have friends. Nothing says being yourself like being a sheep, trapped by society. You will be trapped on all sides by their judgement, but with hose friends, you get to be cruel to anyone who your friend group doesn't like, be honest about those few people, and bottle the rest of your feelings inside.\n\nThen, ditch the family. They hinder you. Yes, they may have shaped you to who you are today, but they will only be disappointed in you over the next few years, so you might as well just get them out of the way now. Disappointment can really hinder you emitting that out going personality that you put on to be accepted.\n\nFinally, and most important of all is get a partner, because nothing says I'm my own person like being in a co-dependent relationship, where every choice you make goes through your partner first.",
"So you're an idiot. You have noticed simple tasks and basic human interaction is not easy for you like it is for others. That's okay. You are still a person with value and we can help you realize it. Through the \"George W. Bush Method\" ^(tm) you will learn to blindly smash your way through life and accept no advice from nobody. Logic and Reasoning is for nerds. With our patented triple blissful ignorance system, you will get the life you have always deserved.\n\n(1) Bats will be jealous when you master the \"Blind Justice Mode\". You will learn to ignore everything you see. Even if there is something staring you in the face, you will be blissfully ignorant of the situation. Your relaxed policies on banking regulation will cause a financial meltdown? Pretend it doesn't exist and claim you had no prior knowledge. We will help you make it look easy. \n\n(2) Beethoven is not just a dog anymore. You can't take the criticism you don't hear. With our system you will have no new ideas coming into that head which will free you to do what you really want. Want to finish a war that had been dead for twelve years, now you can! No evidence? Who needs it? No exit strategy? Who says we are ever leaving? \n\n(3) Sometimes life gets stressful and problems seem unavoidable. Well with our Secret Ostrich maneuver you will be able to escape any obstacle. You will be able to avoid any consequence from your shitty decisions by going on vacation. You have done so much damage that people won't even realize you have not shown up to work in months. *\n\n* BEWARE: This Maneuver takes years of practice and must be used with caution. Marie Antoinette was a pioneer of this maneuver and considered a master but eventually she paid the price for its effectiveness. Use this maneuver carefully. \n\nFor only three payments of $19.95, you too can experience the pleasure of ignorance. Just because you are a moron does not mean that you should not be allowed power with no responsibility. With our patented \"George W. Bush\" ^(tm) system Idiocy will no longer hold you back. Close your senses and unleash your potential and who knows? You could even be president!",
"If you're reading this, you've most likely made your way through \"How to Love Yourself,\" \"How to be The Best You\" and \"Finding The You You Love\" and all the other drivel about being and accepting yourself. But more importantly, if you're reading this, it's because they didn't work. This is not the book for 16 year olds with the world in front of them, but are having a bad day; this isn't the book for the sixty-something that lost their soul mate and need to learn to live alone. This is for all of us who have learned that, as it turns out, most people think who we are sucks.\n\nBut have also learned the one thing everyone hates more then you, are people who are disingenuous. Does this sound like you? That the only time people are more disgusted then seeing you, is when they realize you're trying to act like someone else? Then welcome brother! It is time to learn to love yourself.\n\nStep one, decide who you are. We are all simply a combination of what we've experienced and our genes. Unfortunately for you, somewhere along the way, your ratio shifted and the majority of what makes you you, is disliked by the rest of us. However, I'd be willing to bet, that no matter how shitty of a human being you are, there is at least one thing about you at least okay. One memory, one story, maybe you have great teeth, it doesn't matter; find that one thing. \n\nNow, there are some of you, and it is a very few indeed, that actually do have nothing about them that makes them appealing as a person; don't worry! We can fix you too! And even if there is something that's just okay about you, but you can't build an identity around it, feel free to use this method as well. Now, I assume since you suck, most people in your life drift in and out pretty rapidly. This is good!Pick the coolest person you've known and figure out what was their best trait. This, is now who you are.\n\nNow that we've chosen who you'll be, you've made the first step to being yourself! The next step is very simple: forget everything else about who you are. For the sake of argument, we'll say that you choose to be \"The Funny Guy.\" Great choice! The first step is to always remind yourself that this is now who you are, and what luck, because we're going to learn to love that guy. The best Funny Guy is the one who is simultaneously always funny, and knows when to not be funny. \n\nNow, if you weren't a shitty person to begin with, this wouldn't be too hard, and you'd know how to fill those spaces in between with something other then humor; alas, this is not the case. So first, we will focus on how to be funny. Contrary to popular belief, humor is not hard or spontaneous, at least not for people like you! First, when in a group, note how many people are there, as a rule, the larger the group, the simpler the joke. Second, and this is most likely where a lot of you messed up and ended up where you are now, **stay Quite**. Get a feel for the room, don't be the first person to make fun of something, that is a privilege for people that are liked! Also, make note of who is around, is the boss's pet there? Then don't mock the boss! Even if others do, because since you suck, when word gets around that the boss was being bad mouthed, your's is the only name that will be mentioned.\n\nThe second part is just as important. Since we have now forgotten about everything of who you were before this, you are only the Funny Guy! This means if someone confides in you about something real, or they aren't in the mood for jokes, **shut the fuck up**. Remember, you're reading this book because every part of you sucks so much you couldn't even learn to love the old you, and the new you only does one thing.\n\nCongratulations! You've taken the first step to learning to be you! The new you! The next step is convincing everyone else, this is in fact you. This will be a two part endeavor; first, you must so forcefully forget everything but the one aspect of the new you, that from the day you pick it, people can only point to the past to say, \"hey, he's not one dimensional!\" Learn to smile. This, is harder then it sounds. You must really believe in it, make sure your cheeks dimple, show, just the slightest amount of teeth, nickle your eyes a little. Fun Fact: Neurotransmitters respond to body movements! This means that if you smile enough, you will actually feel happier, it's a self-perpetuating smile! Soon, you won't even be forcing it!.\n\nThe second part is much harder. You must convince yourself that you are, in fact, happy. This will be hard, because unlike everyone else, you are privy to just how sad your life is. Or was until now! All those bad memories? HA! Those weren't real, you were mistaken, that's why we forgot them! They happened to the old you, the one you are learning to replace with someone you want to be. Smile in the mirror every morning, burn your photo albums, remind yourself you're funny, laugh at the sitcom show you mistook for your high school experience, joke to yourself about the morning news, in case someone brings it up, laugh at who you were yesterday, isn't it time you join the crowd?\n\nYou are now well on your way to being yourself now! The final step to being you, is to rebuild a real person. Remember when I said people shouldn't be able to call you one dimensional? Turns out people don't really go for that either. Don't get me wrong, at least now people *can* be around you without disliking it, but you still won't enjoy being yourself if people don't enjoy you. The trick here is mix in a healthy amount of mystery, agreeableness and most importantly, misdirection. Since we've forgotten whatever happened in your past life, it'll be hard to get close to someone or have lengthy one-on-one conversations. To get around this, start by redirecting personal question back at the asker, agreeing that whatever they say was funny/cool/interesting/whatever, and using similies. \"What was my college experience like, you ask? Well, have you ever seen *Insert movie, book, TV show, etc...* it was kind of like that\"\n\nRemember to pay attention to what people say their pasts were like! Then, if they leave your life like everyone else, the best parts become part of your past! soon enough, all those empty spaces you forgot about will be filled up with memories of who you are now!. After all, memories are relative and they make up who we are now!\n\nYou are now ready to not only be a well liked person, but ready to be yourself, your new self. However, one piece of caution before we end this book must be mentioned: do not think that, now that you are liked, you can go back to the old you. There will come a time, and I assure you it will come, that you will be reminded of the old you, that you once loved being the old you and only stopped because the rest of the world didn't. And you will think, now that you know how to be liked, you can go back, don't. Do not do this, because you had years to slowly become the old you, years to learn to deal with rejection, with disdain,with the utter lonesomeness of being the old you; and if you let your new mask slip, even for a second, you'll remember why you could love yourself, why you couldn't be you back then. And you might not make it out a second time.\n\nNow go, and be the new you.",
"In the words of the late Henry David Thoreau: “Be yourself - not your idea of what you think somebody else's idea of yourself should be.”\n\nLife’s too short to try to fit into molds, right? Your personal happiness is important and you’ll never have it as long as you play a façade for everyone else. You have to do what you think is right and live your life happily. Otherwise, what’s the point of living? Using the quote from above, I have a recommendation for all the people out there who are struggling to find who they are in the world.\n\nMake people what *you* think they should be.\n\nIt’s simple, really. How else are you yourself more than when you’re dictating how others should live their lives? They aren’t you but you can definitely show them where they went wrong. I’ve tested this method for years and I must say it works for countless, if not all, situations.\n\nA girl’s dressed in a way that you don’t approve of?\n\nCall her a slut. She knew she was asking for it when she walked out in those revealing clothes. And besides, belittling others is a fantastic way to boost your self-esteem. That’ll make you want to be yourself even more!\n\nSomeone adheres to a different cultural system than you?\n\nInsult them to no end, of course! In America, conformity is the best way to express your individualism. Otherwise, you’re a Muslim Atheist Commie. There’s no way to be yourself when following a system like that.\n\nYou don’t support a group’s attempt to gain equal rights despite knowing nothing about them?\n\nThat’s fine, stereotypes are completely universal and should be used at all times to base someone’s character. As yourself, you have the right to encroach on others’. You can’t let them express their “icky” values. They obviously threaten the way you live your live and could take away your identity by making question your way of life.\n\nI could go on and on but I hope my point has been clear. Being yourself isn’t that hard once you learn to shut out the haters and truly love yourself for who you are. After all, the faster you can accept yourself, the faster you can ignore others.",
"\"How to become a serial killer in 21 easy steps.\"\n\nIf you are considering buying this book, it is probably because on your road to self discovery you have found out that you want to kill people. Congratulations! By buying this book you can take the first and the most important step towards fulfilling your passion and having the life of your dreams.\n\nIn this book you will learn things like:\n\n- Self acceptance. \n\nYou will learn to accept your inner desire for murder, and realize that you are beautiful the way you are. Stop being ashamed of yourself, and let your inner bloodthirsty flower bloom!\n\n- Setting and achieving your goals.\n\nMany novice serial killers don't understand the value and power of goals, and as a result their first kill ends up being messy and often results in less satisfaction than they wanted! To be a real pro you need to learn how to stalk your prey and prepare a good kill-room, and ability to stet goals will empower you to do that like real pros!\n\n- Fight your procrastination\n\nAre you lazy? Are you afraid of being underachiever and never getting the results like Hannibal Lector or Leatherface? Are you a seasoned serial killer and a good kill doesn't feel the same way as when you were young? Fear no more! We wil help you to rediscover your passion and become the assasin you always knew you were meant to be!\n\nAnd many more useful advice that will empower you to believe in yourself and follow your dreams!\n",
"Hi, I'm Troy McClure. You may remember me from such motivational movies as “Lead Paint: Delicious but deadly” and “Locker room towel fights: The blinding of Larry Driscoll”. You may also remember me from how to videos such as “Smoke yourself Thin” and “Get Confidence, Stupid!” In todays presentation, we will try and guide you to becoming the Super evil Villain you have always dreamed of becoming. Most kids grow up dreaming of becoming a super hero, but you always knew better than that. Being a villain has way more perks and almost no responsibility.\n\nSo why should you become an evil super villain anyways? Well for starters, you will have way more friends. Bruce Wayne is super rich, but has two friends, one whose a butler and the other is a cop. Peter Parker was a lonely nerd who had one real friend his entire life, and even he decided to become a villain. Clark Kent? Wolverine? The Hulk? The truth is, being a superhero is one of the loneliest gigs out there. And you might find love, but you will have to hide your identity your entire life to protect her, which will lead her to nagging you and asking you questions such as, “Bitch, where the hell did you run off to last night?” And, “Why you always running off when theres danger? Good thing the superhero came and saved me.” While Villains reek in popularity. Norman Osborne Was one of the most popular kids. Magneto had an army of dedicated companions. Hell, even Victor Von Doom was super rich and hosted many social gatherings. And even if you do end up becoming a supervillain who doesnt have any friends, FRET NOT! You can just hire some evil minions. The superhero only gets to have 1 or two sidekicks(unless they join to become super friends or the avengers, but fuck all that). Your minions may not be able to kill or harm anything, but they will always be super loyal to you, and Im pretty sure they work for cheap. And if they dont, fuck em, shoot their ass. Who cares, your a villain anyways.\n\n– You get to have an evil laugh. Superheroes always are expected to be model citizens, and even if they have a moment where they let out a laugh, no one will ever hear anyways(because they dont have any friends, remember). But an evil Villain, you can hijack a TV channel or put your face on the jumbotron in Times square, and let out your evil laugh all day long if you want.\n\n– You get to be evil. Smoke weed, drink too much, enjoy less than respectable female companions, and do whatever you want to, whenever you want to. While Clark Kent is trying to impress the dull Lois Lane his entire life, you can be out having dirty one night stands with groupies(oh yea, when your an evil supervillain, you have groupies). And you can kill anyone you want to without any repruccisions. The police cant touch you, they will try, but they will always fail. Only the super hero can bring you to justice\n\n.- You never have to worry about anyone hurting you. You wont die from a heart attack, car accident, cancer, accidental bullet shot by your terrible aiming minions, or anything else that normal people have to worry about in their day to day lives. No, you will only meet your demise in your final battle with your arch nemesis, the Super Hero. And even than, you probably wont die. The bigger the Super hero you are fighting, the better chance that you somehow survived that epic final battle and crawled away to safety when no one was looking. Because hey, there is always a part for you in the sequel(and prequel).\n\n– And lastly, the world will know you for who you really are. Superheroes do all the hard work, and reel in none of the rewards. And the people will probably end up turning on the superhero after a while anyways(see: Dark Knight). But the Villain gets the fame and riches, and doesnt even have to hide his face. And having everyone expecting you to lose is a very good way to live. Low expectations are very easy to reach.So there you have it, folks. So go out there and find your secret lair, hire your evil genetically altered monkey minions, and start planning you dasterdly evil plan for world domination(or even an evhil plan to take over a playground. Remember, you are an evil villain, set you goals low, reach them quicker). Somewhere out there, a super hero awaits his arch nemesis, the evil supervillain. Will it be you?"
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[WP]A serial killer is perturbed when their victim doesn't care.
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"*\"So it's you that's been on the news.\"*\n\n\"Yeah.\"\n\nShe smiles, a sad curl of hot pink. *\"Marie was convinced you were with other women all those nights you said you were working the graveyard shift.\"*\n\n\"I wouldn't.\"\n\n*\"But you would do this? Help me make sense of that, Richard.\"*\n\n\"You shouldn't have gotten involved Lisa. They're not good people.\" \n\n*\"We've got another mouth to feed now. Don't think I chose the easy way out. I regret every second of it. But I'd do it all over again if I could!\"* Richard's finger started to itch, dangerously close to the trigger. He stifled a mournful groan, his eyes wet with tears. \n\n\"There are other ways. Things could have been different.\"\n\n*\"They paid me the rent, the electric bill, the heating bill, and everything else. They gave me a bit of spending money; that's more than you've done for me ever since we got married. And that's more than you've ever done for the baby.\"*\n\n\"Don't bring Joyce into this.\"\n\n*\"Why? You started giving a fuck about her?\"*\n\n\"I have always loved her!\" His voice rattled the windows. \"And you,\" he howled. \"I did everything, *everything* for you.\"\n\n*\"You killed some addicts. That was for us? You're no hero. You're a hotshot vigilante who thought he could clean up the system in a real dirty way.\"*\n\n\"I'm no dirty fucking cop.\"\n\n*\"You're right. You're no cop. That entails abiding by the rules, but you're clearly not one for those.\"*\n\n\"But you did this! The high school, the dealer, the pickup. You held the coke that they sold to kids who don't know any fucking better. You know some of those kids. How could you?\"\n\n*\"Because it was either some fools that had their goddamn chance, or my baby, someone with a whole blank slate ahead of them.\"*\n\n\"Stop!\" He shoved the revolver in her face. \"Please don't make me. Say something, anything, anything that'll make me change my mind.\" His voice was getting hoarse as he traced the barrel around her lips. \n\nShe popped her mouth open and clasped her lips around the barrel, puffing her cheeks out and meeting his gaze defiantly. *\"I just got her to go to sleep.\"* She looked over her shoulder, at the crib several feet behind her. Richard couldn't see her; she was rolled over on her belly and the sheets were smothering every bit of her.\n\n*\"Don't wake her up. I'm too tired to rock her back to sleep.\"*\n\nThat was it. Tears began pouring from his eyes freely. \n\n\"Me too, love. Me too.\" He pulled the trigger. He closed his eyes to fend off the bludgeoning torment and then smiled. He heard Joyce begin to cry. He pulled the revolver up and fired again.\n\n\n\n\n",
"**\"Guess it was only a matter of time before something like this happened. I deserve worse than this. I'm a pathetic piece of-\"**\n\n\"Shut up already!\"\n\n**\"Hey, you can quit sharpening that axe. I don't care if my death is slow, painful an-\"**\n\n\"Just shut up! Can you not feel the overwhelming fear take over, knowing that you will never see the light of day again?\"\n\n**\"... No... No not really.\"**\n\n\"Ha! You can't fool me. I will enjoy your suffering as the weight of death slowly-\"\n\n**\"Suffering? Yeah, I could use some more suffering. Nothing can fix what Rachael and I-\"**\n\n\"Shut up about Rachael! God DAMMIT! You're making this difficult for me!\"\n\n**\"Hey you dragged me here. Not my problem.\"**\n\n\"I'm beginning to think that was a mistake.\"\n\n**\"Mistakes... Let me tell you about mistakes...\"**\n\n\"(sigh)\"\n\n**\"My first mistake was being too controlling with Rachael. I should have given her space. I forced her to love me when I should have been giving her a reason to. She always gave more in the relationship and I-\"**\n\n\"Have you tried calling her since?\"\n\n**\"What?\"**\n\n\"Have you given her a call recently?\"\n\n**\"No... She'd never listen after how I treated her.\"**\n\n\"Well it wouldn't hurt to at least try.\"\n\n**\"Easy for you to say.\"**\n\n\"No, Derek, listen to me. Sometimes we make mistakes in relationships. We've all been there. But the worst thing you can do is refuse to learn from it. I've been stalking you for three weeks now and I can tell you've changed for the better.\"\n\n**\"You're just saying that.\"**\n\n\"No, I'm not... Listen, if you tell her how you've been feeling and give her reason to believe that you feel terrible for how you've treated her, what's the worst that could happen? At least this way she'll know. Not knowing is probably hurting her even more.\"\n\n**\"You think so?\"**\n\n\"I know so... If I were you, I'd go to her... I'd go to her if not for you, then for her.\"\n\n**\"Yeah, thanks. I think I will.\"**\n\n\"Good for you, kid\"\n\n**\"Hey I'm still chained to this radiator though\"**\n\n\"Oh looks like you still are, imagine that.\"\n\n**\"Hey man, let me go! I need to let her know that I was wrong. You said it yourself, I need to go to her. C'mon man please... You can't kill me now I... I've got something to live for.\"**\n\n\"I know.\""
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[WP] The thoughts of a man right before he threw a flashbang into a babies crib
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"It's funny how, when it gets really crazy, time slows down. \n\nI mean, not sci-fi. Just how your perception kicks into high gear. Like it is now, as I watch the canister leave my hand. \n\nIt looks almost artistically serene, slowly tumbling end over end. I can clearly read the manufacturer's tracking number stamped into the bottom of the grenade. \n\nAnd in those brief centuries since it left my hand, and I fully took in the room I had just busted in to, I came to realize that I had become a monster.\n\nWe were told this was a drug den. Expect crackheads and needles, and nervous meth junkies with guns. \n\nI don't know who fucked up, or how far up the line it went, but I knew that the one who was going to get the fucking was yours truly. \n\nIt feels like I haven't been able to draw breath in a decade. Just my luck that my body didn't join my mind in this frame by frame unfolding of error and tragedy that would derail my life forever. \n\nI was third in the line, head down and getting psyched for the bust. \n\nWhen the noise of the door frame broke the silence, we started our own noise. Our war cry echoed in a dozen voices. \n\nIt served, as all war cries do, to strengthen our resolve, to scare our opponents, and to let us know who was still alive.\n\n**Police! Down on the floor!**\n\na kind of hyper awareness hits me, as it has a dozen times before. Identify and neutralize threats. We're equipped for this. Over-equipped I think, but when someone offers you a weapon, don't refuse it. \n\nOur greatest weapon was the surprise and confusion of those first few seconds. Yeah, the public hates no-knock warrants, but as a man on the force I can tell you that sometimes those five seconds is the difference between a crazed base head killing his girlfriend, and catching a major player before they can wipe their phone. \n\nAnd, this isn't a popularity contest. \n\nWhy can't one of these places be well-lit, for once. I bet we could avoid a lot of these mistakes if someone would just leave a night light on in the hallway. \n\nSo we bust in, and shout, and knock people and chairs over. \n\nI go to the back of the house to secure any other exits, and we start knocking in doors and expecting the worst. \n\nIt didn't really register to me in those first brief moments inside the house that no one was shouting back. Or scrambling frantically around. \n\nI was in pure training mode, my actions dictated by drills and experience.\n\nKick door. Room black as week old coffee. Sweep room. Shape in the corner, can't get a clear view, looks adult sized and looks like it just moved.\n\nDon't take the chance. \n\nI pull a flash-bang, prime it, and toss into the opposite corner (I'm not a monster, yet. At that range an adult would be pretty much deaf and blind for the next ten minutes, with only a headache and maybe some light flash burns tomorrow).\n\nAs I lean into the room and the canister leaves my hand. I realize I am looking into a nursery. \n\nThe shape in the corner? A giant stuffed bear, half-draped over a toy box. \n\nAnd the back corner of the room opposite the bear? Yeah. That's a crib. \n\nI am a monster. \n\nThere is nothing I can do to stop it now. I had cooked off the fuse enough that it would burst before it even landed. Right over the crib. \n\nMy chest sucks in and I feel a cry of despair beginning to form. The pain is so sharp, it almost feels as if the grenade has already gone off. \n\nIt hasn't. It's still there, in the air, rotating end over end on an arc that will place it within two feet of the cheerful numbers and letters mobile spinning over the crib. \n\nMaybe I'll get lucky, and the crib will be empty...\n\nI have children. Two daughters. I love them very, very much. \n\nIf someone had done this to one of them, I would end them without hesitation. \n\nAnd here I am. Helpless and forced to watch the meter of my doom, the mark of my mistake.\n\nI cannot face the parents. I want to die just so I don't have to stumble out of this room and shout for a medic for what remained of the child whose life I had just destroyed. \n\nThis isn't even the right house. There is now way I can justify my act other than the highest degree of human stupidity. \n\nBut how was I to know? Time was the enemy, get in, get it secured, and then take a breath. \n\nAnd I have become a child killer. \n\nAnd even if the child survives, and can have a normal life, there is no person on this earth that will not consider me a monster, or at the very least a monumental idiot. \n\nHow can I face my own kids now?\n\nThe mainstream media will clamor for my blood, and I can't even imagine the shitstorm that twitter and facebook will become. \n\nThere is a good chance that my life, and the life of my family, will be at risk. Some vigilante could come for me at any time, and I don't know if I could blame them. \n\nAnd what if they live? What can I say to them. How could they ever forgive me?\n\nBut I can't think that way. I need to be prepared for what is to come. I may lose my job. \n\nI know, that doesn't sound too tragic. Maybe you even think I deserve a lot worse. I don't blame you. \n\nDo you really think anyone is going to hire 'that guy who lobbed a grenade into a crib'? I have some savings, but not enough to start a new life somewhere else. \n\nNot quickly, anyway. \n\nAnd I am going to need to be quick if I don't want to lose everything else in my life. \n\nHell, my wife may still leave me over this. God knows she's been looking for an excuse these last few years. \n\nWhat do I tell my daughters when they come home from school and ask me about what I had done?\n\nWhat do I tell myself, when I wake up screaming in the nights to come, the sharp cry of a waking baby echoing in my ears then just as it is starting in my own now, here in the present, as I watch the grenade. \n\nMy last hope that the crib was empty crumbles before me as that thin howling begins. A sense of rushing and weightlessness and nausea all fighting to be felt over wild vertigo washed over me. I knew I was about to throw up, but apparently I didn't have any time to do it in. \n\nI close my eyes tight against the glare of the flash. When it came it was more like a sunrise, slow in building. \n\nI felt as if I was naked before this burning white light for hours. All my flaws and failures exposed and no relief from my own self-loathing. \n\nThen the relatively light concussion hit me, and I could breathe again. \n\nAnd I threw up, it ran down my chest. \n\nAnd collapsed into a ball, clutching my sides, tears choking my voice as I shouted \"Medic!\" "
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[WP] A soldier is tasked with taking care of a kid, in the midst of war. Although the kid's scared, a father-son/daughter bond begins developing.
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"The child was shivering, crouched beneath a twisted hunk of metal. Aria got down low, on eye level with him. He shrank back against the rubble, eyes showing too much white.\n\n\"It's alright,\" Aria reached out a hand slowly. \"I'm here to get you out of here.\" For a long moment, neither of them moved. Only the dust swirled around them. Then the child reached out for her hand, and Aria pulled him close.\n\n\"Stay with me,\" Aria whispered, and took off over a broken hunk of concrete. At first, she moved at a speed she was used to, almost leaving the child behind more than once. Each time, she caught herself, slowed to a speed that felt like a crawl, and waited.\n\n\"I'm scared,\" the voice shook Aria from her focus. She had been watching a Confederate soldier stalking through the misty streets, trying to decide if they could slip past him. Aria crouched low, beckoning the child closer.\n\n\"It's alright. I'm with the Rebellion. My name's Aria. What's yours?\" Aria tried a voice she thought sounded encouraging. Judging by the child's expression, she was not succesful.\n\n\"Andrew,\" he whispered finally, shrinking back against the rock.\n\n\"An old friend of mine is named Andrew,\" Aria replied, biting her lip. Taking care of kids wasn't her thing, better left to someone else. Still, right now there was no one else. \"He broke down in the end, though.\" Immediately she could tell she had said the wrong thing. Right. Don't tell kids about your friends and their mental breaks. Noted.\n\n\"Okay, I need you to wait right here. I'll be back in just a moment.\" Aria stood back up, but Andrew clutched her leg tightly, a sad, indistinct sound accompanying the movement. Aria crouched back down. She thought for a moment, then drew out her tags. Two octagonal metal plates, small, but big in a child's hands. She put the tags in his hands, and whispered \"I'll be back for these.\" Andrew let her go, and she vanished into the fog.\n\nA few moments later there was the soft sound of a blade sliding through flesh, and a dull thump. Aria hopped over the rubble Andrew was hiding behind, her golden hair swirling gracefully around her. A faint sound, like music on the edge of hearing, followed her every movement. She extended a hand, pulling Andrew along through the ruins. \n\nIt was another hour before they encountered the Confederate operative. Aria pulled Andrew close, behind the half-standing wall of a burned-out house.\n\n\"Andrew, I need you to stay here. That man out there is dangerous.\" The music had built to a tense, held note, like a strained whisper. Gravel and rock crunched under an armored boot as the operative turned towards the sound. Aria looked down at the child, no older than ten. He nodded, still clutching Aria's tags. She sighed, and handed him a spare knife. The blade was heavy and overlarge in his small hands.\n\n\"Just in case.\" Aria sprinted out into the open, flicking another knife into her open hand. The held note burst into song, quick, tense notes in perfect time with her steps. The operative, coated head-to-toe in black armor, drew a pistol and fired twice. Two bolts of brilliant red sliced through the misty air, missing Aria by a shadow's breadth. Her knife flashed out, knocking the pistol aside. Two more cuts drew bright lines of sparks across the operative's armor, and the two closed into grappling range. Each exchanged strikes and blocks at such speed it would look a blur to any observer, the dull thuds of armor and flesh colliding adding percussion to the song that followed Aria everywhere.\n\nAndrew lay shaking behind the wall, listening to music, not quite covering the heavy sounds of hand-to-hand combat. Aria was being pressed slowly but surely back, having done no damage but a dozen long scrapes in the black armor. Whoever was in there, they were good. A heavy kick sent Aria skidding back, kicking up grey gravel in a wide arc behind her. The operative pressed his advantage, a long, serrated blade springing free along the wrist of the armor, dropping neatly into his hand.\n\nWith a yell, Andrew came running around the corner, knife brandished. Aria was already throwing herself in front of him as the operative spun, aimed, and threw. The knife caught Aria in the shoulder. She hit the ground hard, rolling back into a fighting stance. Andrew was shrinking back again, and the operative was closing in.\n\n*Coda, tell me you have something* Aria whispered in her mind. Another voice responded, confident as ever. *Of course. Give me the body*. Aria jerked and shuddered, then launched herself forward on all fours. One fist slammed through the operative's block, hurling him to the ground. Aria ripped the operative's armor plating off in a quick jerk, and rammed her knife home.\n\nIt took a few minutes for her to come back to herself. She awoke as if from a dream, shivering on the cold ground. A young face was looking over her with concern. The child had pulled the knife out of her shoulder, had even put pressure on the wound, even though Aria hadn't needed it. When her eyes opened, he gave her a hopeful smile.\n\n\"Are you okay?\" he asked quietly.\n\n\"Of course,\" Aria replied. \"It'll take more than that to do me in. Now come on, the rebel camp is only a little ways from here.\"",
"The briefing adjourned with a cacophony of grumbled curses and whispered indignations. The aftershocks of the Legacy Group's bombing campaign meant that everyone was twitchy and on-edge, and the latest round of security measures wasn't helping any. Biometric scanners at every bulkhead, armed patrols in the Residential Ring, and restriction of EVA access to all but Level 3 technicians. Not only was productivity taking a massive dive as workers struggled to wade through seas of red tape, but more and more it felt like Legacy Group's claims of Metis being a repressive totalitarian state were well founded.\n\nAlex Troph remained in his seat, calmly waiting for the crowd of discontents to disperse. The Meeting Hall had originally been built with the concept of equal, unbiased representation in mind; the black seats bore no ornamentation beyond plain, holographic nameplates, and the thousand or so seats were equally spaced in rings around the central floor, with no precedence for seats given based on position or standing. However, since the Mutiny, the Chamber had been used merely as a briefing room. No democratic discussion, just orders from the Captaincy to the Technicians - with the inner rings reserved for the line officers who had the displeasure of being physically at the meeting.\n\nFinally, as the chamber slowly emptied, Alex rose. New security measures or no, he had a job to do - and if that job put a hundred meters of rock between him and the troubles of the ship's internal politics, all the better. The life of an EVA technician was lonely, demanding, and often very short, but at least it was free of the bureaucratic nonsense of Interior Affairs. However, as he hefted his pack, a rugged hand came down on his shoulder.\n\n\"Hoi, Alex, got a second?\" Dr. James Nichols... Internal Affairs.\n\n*\"No, no I don't\"* was what Alex's mind was thinking, but his mouth had other ideas. \"Sure, sir. Having any luck with the refugee problem?\"\n\n\"One bed at a time, really. You know how bad things are in the double-R.\"\n\nThe frail, balding man was one of the few Technicians who might be called a \"leader.\" The centenarian was an administrator for the Ministry of Habitation, which managed the logistics of the Residential Ring and the Censors. In the last round of bombings, nearly 50,000 civilians had been displaced by a combination of hull breaches, utility disruptions, and all-out warfare between MST and Legacy forces - given already crowded conditions of the Residential Ring, it was a task Alex did not envy.\n\nNichols cleared his throat before continuing. \"Alex, I know you know what I'm after.\"\n\nAlex stood back, folding his arms and scowling. \"And I know *you* know the answer is still no. EVA has been task-saturated enough in the past few weeks without me having to worry about a new batch of meteorite fodder.\"\n\n\"You're running out of technicians faster than you can replace them, Alex, and at the rate things are going it'll only be getting worse.\"\n\n\"We will *deal with it*. I don't care how badly strapped you are for job allocation, EVA recruitment has been, is, and *always will be* on a volunteer basis, and *only* for certified Technicians. I will *not* be responsible for another Class 17, even if the Captaincy finds the idea of astronomical casualty rates to be convenient. \" Alex hefted his satchel and turned to climb the stairs before Dr. Nichols spoke up.\n\n\"Unfortunately, that's exactly the case.\" The words were spat out like acid.\n\n\"You don't mean...\" Alex's eyes gaped in horror as realization set in. Now, it was Dr. Nichol's turn to scowl.\n\n\"Yes. Colonel Mitchell told me that if EVA didn't open up recruitment to a wider field, he'd institute a draft. Standard worker age, *if* you do it voluntarily. Younger if it's a draft.\" Dr. Nichols glanced around before hissing in Alex's ear. \"We're overpopulated, overcrowded, and overeducated. If a few hundred kids from the Citizenry get killed in the void, that's *to their benefit.*\" \n\nThe auditorium was almost empty, save for a few scattered pairs of whispering Technicians. Dr. Nichols stepped back from Alex, his already fragile frame looking as if it would shatter at any moment.\n\n\"I know why you don't want it, Alex. I don't want to throw these kids into the gauntlet any more than you do. But if we don't make a concession now, it's going to get a whole lot worse. You have to work with me.\"\n\nSighing, Alex collapsed into one of the metal chairs, rubbing his eyes. \"How many do we need to take to appease the Captaincy?\"\n\n\"I wasn't given a hard quota, but from what I've heard in the grapevine they want pre-War levels of recruitment, so at least 1,500 in the next class. Judging on previous volunteer rates, this means at least 600 of those will be from the Citizenry.\"\n\nSix hundred. Six hundred children, drafted by lottery into a job where the average life expectancy was less than a decade in a world where most lived to be two hundred. And the Captaincy wanted to throw *teenagers* into that gauntlet.\n\nAlex stood and started to climb the stairs. \"We'll see what we can do.\"\n\n---\n\nAlex Troph looked out over the hall, packed wall-to-wall with a thousand jumpsuited bodies. EVA, more so than any other duty, drew the widest variety of recruits - no single race, gender, or even attitude was a majority in the throng. Hovering above them in the null-g, he resisted the urge to predict how many of them would be alive in a year, in a *month;* failing that, he resisted the urge to vomit inside of his hardsuit.\n\nGathering himself, the Chief Technician flicked a switch on his wrist, sending his voice into the booming public address speakers.\n\n\"Welcome, recruits, to Extravehicular Technician Training. You're all here for different reasons - some of you are volunteer Technicians who felt like dancing on a nuclear pile wasn't dangerous enough work, some of you are Citizens who jumped at a shot out of double-R, and some of you are here because you drew the short stick at Career Assignment.\" Alex paused, surprised not by the number of young faces that flinched at the last category, but by the number that *didn't.* Two Citizens, in particular - a young couple situated near the middle of the throng - caught his eye, if only for showing no reaction at all. \n\nAlex shook his head while firing his suit's thrusters to shift his orientation - now, instead of addressing the crowd from the front, he was floating over them. A bonafide Angel of Death. \"For whatever reason, I respect you enough to be honest: this job is going to kill you, sooner more likely than later. Whatever rumors you heard about Voidsec are, most likely, true - between equipment failure, work accidents, and Separatist raids, we lose more personnel in a week than any other section.\"\n\nDistressed murmurs rippled through the crowd. However, Alex's eyes once again floated to the stoic pair. Now that he was almost directly above them, he could tell that they weren't only unfazed by his message - they were *defiant.* Of the thousand panicked eyes flitting about the room, theirs were fixed directly on him. \n\n\"For this reason, however, you will be provided with the most comprehensive training available on the Metis. My staff and I will do everything in our power to ensure that you will *not* become space debris on your first mission. This will involve physical training, systems training, navigation training and, yes, combat training.\n\n\"To this end, each of you will be assigned to an instructor as a mentor. They will be responsible for your training, your housing, and your survival in the coming six months. And, speaking from personal experience, your trainer will be your worst enemy and best friend.\"\n\nThere was silence in the hall as the trainees waited for Alex to finish. In truth, the verbose introduction had just been stalling for time. A green light in Alex's helmet display told him that the preparations were complete. In an instant, Alex's voice shifted from a stern, calm monotone to a terrifying roar.\n\n\"Spacers! Fall out and make corrections!\"\n\nIn an instant, the massive chamber was filled with dozens of flashing floodlights and a tumult of bone-rumbling roars. Hundreds of trainers descended from their perches in the shadows into the crowd, grabbing recruits by the collar and yanking them into the air like hawks snatching fish from a stream. The cadre, flailing trainees in tow, disappeared through sliding entrances in the walls, terrified screams cut off by steel doors slamming shut.\n\nMost of the hardsuit-clad Spacers were the elite few of Void Section who'd beaten the dismal survival odds and, now, had the chance to pass the torch. Each was given their choice of two trainees - odds are that one of them would survive long enough to keep the tradition alive. EVA work had always been a dead man's profession.\n\nAlex, himself already knew who his selectees would be - the unfortunate little bastards who'd managed to stand out in the crowd. Angling himself against the ceiling and shoving off with a powerful leap, he dove into the crowd, rolling between the disoriented recruits before focusing on his prize - the two Citizens. Planting a hand on the scruffs of their jumpsuits.\n\n\"I hope you got a good first look, because you'll be seeing a *whole lot of me* from now on.\" With a burst of propellant he had them off the floor and headed for the nearest hatch - day one.\n\n ",
"The sky began to scream.\n\nAurora squeezed Caleb's hand ever so tightly.\n\n\"We need to be very quiet, okay? Can you do that for me?\" Her voice was barely above a whisper.\n\nCaleb nodded.\n\n\"You're doing great, okay? Let's go...quietly now...\"\n\nThousand- year old trees were reduced to blackened husks as fireballs and superheated shrapnel rained down. Aurora checked her ammunition reserves. \n\nNot enough.\n\n\"Aury, where are we going?\" asked Caleb, voice nearly drowned out by the explosions in the distance. \n\n\"Somewhere safe. Shh, okay?\"\n\nThe snow crunched under the weight of their footsteps as they stealthily passed a patrol. A confrontation this close would mean certain death. \n\n\"Down! Down!\" shouted Aurora in a hushed manner. Caleb obeyed, and the two of them dove behind a buried boulder. \"Stay behind me.\"\n\nThere were four of them, wearing silver armor and M-25 battle rifles, which were no doubt synced with their in-HUD targeting system. Aurora knew this, because she had the same tech herself.\n\nAurora closed her eyes, brought Caleb closer to her and prayed to a god she didn't believe in anymore.\n\n\"Any survivors?\" said one of the grunts.\n\n\"Al's still doing a recon sweep. Just wait a second.\"\n\n\"Wait, I see prints here. Two of them. Stragglers.\"\n\n\"Fan out.\"\n\n\"Aye.\"\n\nFuck. Fuck. FUCK. thought Aurora. She unsheathed her knife in her left hand and readied her pistol with the other. She turned to Caleb.\n\n\"Caleb, stay here, okay? Here, this is for you...\" She handed him a battered compass. \"Count to sixty mississipi, just like we did last time, remember? If I'm not here after you finish, you run. You keep running. Towards east. See the 'e' on the compass? You go there.\"\n\n\"I don't want you to leave me...\" said Caleb.\n\nAurora held his face in her blistered hands. \"I'm not going anywhere, okay? I'll be back before you know it.\" She gave him a smile. A tear ran down her cheek. \n\nHe was only nine. He didn't deserve this. She went in and embraced him.\n\n\"I want you...(sniff)...I want you to know that you're the toughest lil' fella I've ever met. I promised your parents...\" Aurora said as her voice cracked. \n\nHe hugged her even tighter. \"I love you Aunt Aury.\"\n\n\"I love you too Caleb. I'll...I'll always be there.\" She pointed to his chest. \"Right there. Don't you worry...\"\n\n\"Okay.\" He crouched behind the boulder as Aurora sprinted off.\n\nCaleb waited for her footsteps to fade away before he started counting quietly to himself.\n\n\"One mississippi...two mississippi...three-\"\n\n\"Right flank! Right flank!\" screamed one of the grunts. \n\nGunshots. More yelling.\n\n\"...ten mississippi...eleven mississippi...\"\n\nBLAM. BLAM.\n\n\"Where are you, you lil' bit- ack-\"\n\nRatatatat. Ratatata. BLAM. \n\nCaleb whimpered, and tried to *will* Aurora back, but she was nowhere to found.\n\n\"Suppressing fire!\"\n\n\"...thirty-five mississippi...\"\n\nThe icy wind pummeled Caleb's body, threatening to tear his fragile skin apart. The snow started to pick up in velocity.\n\n\"Shit...\"\n\nMore gunfire.\n\n\"...fifty- eight mississippi...fifty-\"\n\n\"There she is! There-\"\n\nBLAM. BLAM. \n\n\"...sixty mississippi.\" finished Caleb.\n\nHe waited.\n\nAnd waited.\n\nHe heard nothing but the dull moan of the wind. \n\n\"Aurora?\"\n\nNo one answered.\n\nHe peeked out from behind the rock and saw the snow stained with red splatters and dots. No sign of her.\n\n\"Aurora?\" His voice reeked of desperation.\n\nNothing.\n\nHe cried as sorrow and loneliness swallowed him. Then he turned around, and he put one foot in front of the other, compass in his left hand, and Aurora's knife in the other.\n\nHe started to run.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n"
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[WP] Write your final moments after watching a TV broadcast that says an asteroid the size of the moon will impact the earth in five minutes.
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"\nI'm already dead.\n\n\nI died days ago, as gravitational effects of the sudden arrival had torn my coastal region asunder with affected tides and cataclysmic waves. There are handfuls of survivors clawing at each other, raping and burning what's left of civilization, and there are the few that hold onto hope that there's some bunker, some safeguard for our species.\n\nThe truth of the matter is different. I knew that when I put the revolver against the roof of my mouth after downing a bottle full of pills and slashing my femoral with a straight razor. You can't dig deep enough. There's nothing that's going to save us. God's fist is coming, and it's going to obliterate Eurasia when it arrives.\n\n",
"As I watch the news, they are warning us of impending doom. Say bye to your kids, you'll be the last thing they ever knew. Hell is tearing through, the ground is splitting right in clear view. You're freaking out, straight wiggin'. Pacing the floor, just trippin'. You think, \"It just might pass.\" but who fuck are you kiddin'? You grab the gun in the kitchen, you know your children are dead, so they don't know what they're missing. People out fighting, stealing, and killing, as though for a mission. You roll your last blunt, light it, hit it, cough and grunt. You let the THC hit you, feel like you've touched the sun. Close your eyes, 'cause in a minute you'll visit your loved ones. BANG."
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For example, an anime which shall renamed unnamed tells of an alien species where the male:female ratio is 1:30. Show me how this is actually kind of messed up, in whatever way you feel.
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[WP] Take the basic premise of any lighthearted story, and twist it around into darkness. Use any detail you want to show us that this story is very wrong.
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[
"\"Rapunzel, let down your hair!\" Said the brave hero as he latched his glove wearing fingers onto the blond's hair, but as he pulled, Rapunzel was pulled out her stone tower and onto the cold stone ground below, mutilated and broken from the fall. \"Huh... I guess hair isn't a reliable thing to climb on.\" said the hero as he whistled and walked away.",
"Little Katie sat up in her bed, eyes wide. She hadn't imagined that sound. Someone was in the house. The 7-year old tried hard to calm her breathing and listen for another. She didn't hear anything for...\n\nIn the living room. *Something was there.*\n\nHer eyes went wide. She started hyperventilating. Her room was closest to the stairs, her parent's all the way down at the back of the hall. She was too terrified to even get out of bed and go down there. She listened to the shuffling sounds coming from the living room, and then she heard low mumbling. She couldn't make out what the voice was saying. It suddenly sounded like it was getting closer. *OhmygodOhmygodOhmygod*\n\nSuddenly, with horror, she could hear what the raspy, toneless voice was mumbling: \n\n*Goodnight room.*\n\n*Goodnight moon.*\n\nKatie froze in terror. It sounded like it was *coming up the stairs.*\n\n*Goodnight bears.*\n\n*Goodnight chairs.*\n\n*Goodnight kittens.*\n\n*And goodnight mittens.*\n\nShe started crying. It was definitely coming up the stairs now. Why didn't her parents hear it? She heard the slumping, shuffling sound getting closer and closer to the top.\n\n*Goodnight clocks.*\n\n*Goodnight socks.*\n\nThen the voice stopped. The girl realized it was *right outside her room.*\n\nAnd then suddenly,\n\n*Goodnight Little House.*\n\nKatie's door flew open. She screamed."
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[WP] A school teacher returns to their workplace late one night to retrieve something important - only to find their students using their classroom to perform a satanic ritual
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"“Ms. Trout, c’mon now, are you telling us you really didn’t know? That you had no inking of what your classroom was being used for? Isn’t there something that should have tipped you off? As a professional did you observe strange behaviors, perhaps? You must have seen something,” said the policeman towering over a small, young woman in her 20’s who was shaking in the hot seat. He gave his partner a knowing look, and then reached up and turned the light on her face, glaring bright white into her confused eyes. \n\n“I swear, I have no clue what you are talking about. I have no idea why you have even arrested me. All I know is that they found something in my cupboard. Something about my students being in my class at night. How is that my fault? Why won’t anyone tell me what is happening?” Ms. Trout cried.\n\n“I ask the questions, and you answer. That is all you do. Understand?”\n\nShe nodded uncertainty, squinting through the light.\n\n“Did you ever teach minors satanic practices? Witchery? Sorcery? Nercomancy? Palm reading? Tarot cards? Gypsy hair braiding? Voodo or Zoodo?”\n\n“Never.”\n\n“How about Polytheism?”\n\n“No.”\n\n “Wiccaism? Zionism? Animism? Shamanism? Communism???\n\n“Of course, not! This is ridiculous! The last lesson I taught before wrongfully being arrested was on geometry. Is there any crime in teaching math?”\n\n“We also have this piece of proof. Do you deny making this activity sheet?” Said the gruff policeman, slowly passing over a small piece of crumpled paper. \n\n“Yes, this is my classwork.” \n\n “Can you please point your finger at question five, in which you asked the students to add 434 to 232.” \n\n“The teacher pointed her finger at the question, and then her eyes widened with surprise.” \n\n“Could you please read the sum listed below?” asked the policeman with a small, twisted smile.\n\n“666, but!”\n\n“Now why on earth would you ask sweet Christian children to add up two such wicked addends like 232 and 434! Without a doubt you can add these together and know that a devastating result will occur.” \n\n“For heavens sake, I got the worksheet from math-aids.com! I don’t read through it all.”\n\n“Just answer the questions, Ma’am. In this so-called harmless geometry lesson did you teach shapes?”\n\n“Certainly, but I don’t see what this could…”\n\n“Triangles?”\n\n“Yes.”\n\n“Squares?”\n\n“Of course, all sorts of quadrilaterals.” \n\n“Pentagons?”\n\n“…”\n\n“Well?”\n\n“It’s all requirements of the state standards…if you just look at my lesson plan-“\n\n“Did you explicitly teach students how to draw pentagons in your classroom with full knowledge that petagons are the #1 gate-way shape to sin-causing symbols like pentagram, Asteroth’s symbols, nonagrams, and even the deadly nine angles?”\n\n“What on earth are you talking about?”\n\n“You know very well we are not talking about earthly things, do not play the fool, Ms. Trout, it does not suit you. You may be a first year teacher, but looking at your resume, this is not the first time you have worked with children, true?”\n\nThe young woman puckered her lips unsurely, and nodded with hesitation. \n\n“Work with us here.” Said the policeman’s partner, an African American man with a kindly face, “If you confess that you were involved, I will make sure my partner cuts you a deal. A jury’s isn’t going to like what he has against you. If you do not confess now, I can’t protect you from what he is going to show you next.”\n\n“I confess to nothing. I want representation. I need a lawyer,” she said with heavy sobs. \n\nThe kindly cop shook his head in disappointment, and left the room. The menacing policeman smiled, and handed a piece of paper to the poor, trembling woman.\n\n“It’s my resume. So what?” she said nervously, “When do I get my lawyer?”\n\n“Yes… he said with a calculated pause, “Where you explicitly state that you previously worked at Satan Andrew’s Children’s Center, you witch! What jury is going to believe you now?”\n\n“My God, that’s obviously a typo; I worked at Saint Andrew’s Children’s Center. Saint, not Satan. How could it be anything else? This is insanity. Why am I not getting representation? I want to talk to a different policeman.”\n\n“It sure seems like you are making lots of mistakes recently, Ms. Trout. Too many mistakes and too many coincidences. Like the mistake you made visiting your classroom at exactly 11:50 PM on a work night. What on earth would you needed in your class at that time?”\n\n“I was bringing in some supplies for a surprise spring break party.”\n\n“Boxes of candles?”\n\n“Scented candles. Pink, blue, and yellow for Easter.”\n\n“Thirteen live hens?”\n\n“Well yes, I know that is unusual, but it was an Easter themed party, as I said.”\n\n“Sulfuric Acid, an eye of newt, bleach, and a jar of pickles?” \n\n“For a science experiment, only”\n\n“And you claim you did not notice any unusual rotting smells the following day, even though several students report feeling sick?”\n\n“Sometimes classrooms smell, students leave food in their desks or sweat after P.E., I thought some febreze might-”\n\n“Hide the evidence?”\n\nThe young teacher began sobbing, “This is all out of context! You are taking everything and twisting it.”\n\n“Why did you not find it necessary to report that several students came into the class with boils on their arms, blisters on their tongues, and bite marks on their necks?” \n\n“I don’t know! I want a lawyer!”\n\n“For what?! Look at these pictures. A decapitated goat head found in your supply cupboard next to the devil’s sign scrawled on 30 pieces of construction paper. Hallway surveillance camera evidence of thirteen minors entering your classroom at late hours of the night. Chewed gum found under desks with DNA that is not human. Not even of this world. Five confessions from frightened minors who all say that you were the ring-leader. Trust me, you don’t need a lawyer, lady, you need *a priest!*” \n\nSuddenly, the young woman’s face snarled and hissed at *the word*. \n\n“Lawyer! Lawyer! *LAWYER!!*” She screeched. \n\n“We’ve seen enough. Book her, boys!”\n",
"Getting out of my 1995 BMW 325i. \"Need to check out on that ticking when I get the chance\" I thought.\n\n\"Now who was it?. Stevens or Samson? I'll probably give him an A+ if I can't find his paper. No, B- seems more reasonable\".\n\nI can't see any guard here. Guess I'll just let myself in. I'm lucky this is just a school and not Fort Knox, I don't want to sit all night trying to pick the lock. Not that I know how but everything's on the internet nowadays. Makes writing summaries much shorter. Sometimes I think the students know more than me about the material.\n\nWell I can't expect the lights to be on at night. So I use my pocket flashlight. I'm glad I came prepared. Well... I wasn't. Not for this.\n\nI opened the classroom door. Mostly darkness but I could definitely see a goat, mutilated. At it's sides are five of my students (including Samson. Now he's getting a D+). I shouldn't expect more from my students really.\n\nAnd at the sight of it all I could only respond sincerely:\n\n\"Oh, not *again*...\"",
"I bust through the classroom door, and immediately my nose wrinkles at the putrid stench of death. My eyes spot the source shortly thereafter, lying at the center of the room: a large animal carcass torn open and steeped in its own blood and guts. It looks like… a llama? It’s difficult to tell in the dim lighting of the candles scattered around the room.\n\nUnderneath the poor thing, small channels have evidently been carved into the floor. Some of the animal’s lifeblood has drained into these carvings, forming bright red rivulets in the form of a perfect pentagram. The pattern shines with an unsettling glow as the candlelight sparkles off of the fluid.\n\nForming an outer circle around the figure is a chain of kneeling children… my students… linking hands with their faces toward the ceiling. They are all murmuring some sort of low chant in unison. Upon closer inspection I see that their interlocking hands are coated in the innards of the disemboweled creature at the center of their ring.\n\nThere is one more student not part of the ring, Jacob, standing and watching over them. Like the rest he is dressed very darkly with hands coated in filth. He also has streaks of the blood on each cheek and across his forehead. As I stand in shock, attempting to take all this in, he looks up at me and smiles before walking over.\n\n“Mr. Petrucci,” he says, his voice oddly soothing considering it came from a face painted in blood. “We are so glad you made it.”\n\n“What’s going on here?” I force out, my mind just beginning to overcome the confusion.\n\n“We brought you here. We need you – you’re the most important part!”\n\n“What? For what? And you didn’t bring me here, I needed to grab the papers… your papers. For grading.”\n\n“Is that really why you came? What can you remember about the trip from your home to here?”\n\n“I was eating dinner, and then-“ My heart sinks as I realize I can’t remember. Being here feels so right, so natural, and yet upon direct consideration I have absolutely no recollection of the journey. The last thing I remember was looking at the clock at home at 7:43 P.M. when I was thinking about the papers I had forgotten. Looking at my watch now, I see 8:16. That would leave about the right amount of time for the trip here, but why is it gone from my memory?\n\nI look up to see Jacob smiling knowingly at me. “It’s okay,” he says reassuringly. “You’ll know all about your true purpose soon enough. Then none of this will matter.”\n\n“My true purpose?” I ask, my voice slightly hysterical as the insanity of this all comes crashing down on me. “You know what, no, never mind. It doesn’t matter. I’ll get the police here to sort you guys out and handle whatever… this is.” I gesture at the violent display before me, before reaching for the phone in my pocket.\n\nWith my arm still in mid-air, however, the chanting grows much louder. The words are clearly not English, or even of this world probably. Something about the inhuman nature of the language and the perfect unison of their voices chills my soul. Not more than a few seconds later, they all stop abruptly on one loud, powerful word. At that moment, all of their necks snap around, their eyes piercing mine in cold, wide, unblinking stares.\n\nAfter jumping in alarm, I silently thank the stars that the chanting is over at least. The stares I can shut out by just not looking. Right, so what was I doing? I was going to call… Satan. No, the cops. These kids are being… rebellious. Rebellious against the forces of light. That’s a good thing right? No, bad. Wait… great. The light must go out. We shall rise again. The demons will not be stopped this time.\n\nFor Lucifer."
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[WP] You play an online game in which you repeatedly kill and flame and harass another player in the enemy team. That player is a leader of a country and he declares a war on your country giving an official public statement that you and your actions are the reason for the war.
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"*n00b*\n\n*lol*\n\n*boom boom mthfckr*\n\nI laughed and giggled like a little girl. It's been a while since i last enjoyed playing a game, maybe it is a good choice to join the International server. I always think of my self as a nice person, but this time i lost control of my self. That enemy, \"freedomfighter\" is hilariously weak.\nA part of me told me that what i'm doing is not right. But if that player is an easy target, i have to hunt him down so that my team is getting higher score. The score is counted by the number of enemy your team could kill.\n\nI hid in the corner, watch my target ran into a room before coming out of my hideout and rain him with bullets.\n\n**xxxwingsxxx killed freedomfighter**\n\n*go home*\nI typed, and then watch as new notification popped out. A private chat from freedomfighter.\n\n*you don't know me and i don't know you*\n\n*but you did a grave mistake by harassing me*\n\n*i have your IP address*\n\n**freedomfighter logged out**\n\nReading how he get my IP address makes me a little bit worry. So i decided to end the game for tonight and logged out as well, consulting Google and proceed to do what ever i could to protect my computer and my identity before going to sleep.\n\nI woke up the next morning to a call from a friend of mine.\n\"Elle? Elle!\" I could hear her screaming from the other side of the phone. \"Urgent!\"\nI groaned, rubbing my eyes and set the phone to loudspeaker.\n\"Your username in WARZONE is x-x-x-wings and then another triple x, right?\"\n\"Mhm.\" I answered. \"What's up?\"\n\"America just declared war to our country.\" I opened my eyes. \"The President said that he have been harassed mentally by you, and is going to give you a payback by doing so.\"\n\"And what is our response?\" I stood up. My mind is a little bit dizzy and my eyes still felt heavy.\n\"Everyone's looking for you, they want to execute you-\"\nThere is a knock in my door.\n",
"I sat in the interrogation room, scared out of my mind. I was alone with one FBI agent, a intimidating man who looked like a human monolith. His partners traced my IP address of my online handle and picked me up. I had to convince him this was not my fault. \n\n\"I honestly did not know that Kim Jong-Un was such a petty little asshole!\" I explained to the FBI agent. \n\nFBI Agent Damon Muntz looked down and pinched his eyes.\n\n\"I'm sorry,\" he said, \"Were you living in a cave when the whole 'The Interview' thing was happening?\" \n\nI waffled for a bit and said, \"Yeah, I saw that. But I thought that was just a load of nonsense to promote the movie.\"\n\n\"No, that was real,\" said agent Muntz, \"North Korea actually threatened to go to war over a movie, and your little stunt playing Call of Duty pushed him over the edge. Thanks a lot!\"\n\n\"You're welcome,\" I said. \n\n Agent Muntz angrily thumped the table with his fist.\n\n\"This isn't a joke!\" he shouted at me. \n\nAs Muntz regained his composure I started to stammer.\n\n\"What's the big deal? His missiles are bullshit anyway! Everything that he has showed off has turned out to be no threat.\"\n\n\"Everything that we *know of!*\" said agent Muntz as he suddenly stood uncomfortably close to my face. \n\nI backed away in my chair and shrank a little, feeling very defensive. \n\n\"How the hell was I supposed to know it was him, anyway?\" \n\nAgent Muntz rolled his eyes and asked, \"I don't suppose his handle Kim Jong-un Supreme Commander of the People's Republic of Korea was a hint to you?\"\n\nI screamed back at the agent, \"The handle's people choose are almost always bullshit and you know it. Do I look like a Catboy in a maid outfit to you?\" \n\n\"You look like a fat bastard in khaki shorts,\" said the agent as he thumped the table again, \"Which is going to be traded in for a set of battle fatigues marching right into the 38th parallel on the front fucking lines before the end of this week if this war actually breaks out.\" \n\n\"What do you want me to do about it?\" I asked. \n\nThe agent handed me a game controller and rolled me in my chair to the face a large flatscreen that had Call of Duty loaded onto it.\n\nAgent Muntz stood behind me, planted his hands firmly on my shoulders, shoving me deeper into the chair, forcing me to face the screen as he spoke.\n\n\"You are going online and challenging Kim Jong-un to a rematch.\"\n \n\"I don't understand, isn't that what got him pissed off with me in the first place?\" I asked.\n\nAgent Muntz spun my chair around to make me face him. \n\n\"You are going to let him kick you around like a little bitch until he's happy. And maybe, just maybe, the war will be called off.\"\n\n\"But he sucks!\" I said, \"He doesn't even know how to properly switch back on forth from an assault rifle to a grenade launcher.\"\n\nAgent Muntz look stared deeply into my eyes and said, \"Are you good enough at handling an assault rifle and grenade launcher to fend off two million North Korean soldiers?\" \n\nI gave it some thought for moment, then I said, \"Little bitch?\" \n\n\"Little bitch,\" said Agent Muntz as he spun me around to face the screen. \n\nI prepared to take the worst pasting of my life, to possibly save the world. It wouldn't have been so humiliating if he didn't keep dropping his rocket launcher, which I didn't even know was possible to do in Call of Duty. \n",
"\"And now we turn to Anderson Cooper, reporting live from the situation in Seoul. Anderson can you hear us?\"\n\n\"Hi Wolf. It has been almost 75 hours since the Korean War reignited. After an initial, terrifying bombardment, South Korean and American forces have managed to push North Korean fighters beyond the range of Seoul. For almost twenty straight hours, the city received shelling and rocket attacks from positions north of the 38th parallel. Now, the city is silent except for the sounds of sirens and the wails of the wounded and dying. A swift counterattack by American and South Korean forces is now advancing rapidly towards Pyongyang, and to the surprise of many, Chinese forces have crossed over their own border with North Korea, swallowing up vast chunks of land and interning large numbers of North Korean soldiers.\n\n\"Yet the question in the minds of many South Koreans is not about how long the fighting will last. Amidst the ruins of Seoul, many can be seen looking for loved ones and searching the devastated remains of their homes for valuables. All are asking the same question, 'Why did this happen? Why now?'\"\n\n\"Anderson, I have to stop you there. We're getting live reports from a press conference in ... Charleston, South Carolina. We're turning to a local affiliate for more.\"\n\nThe camera cuts to a gathering of people in front of the Charleston capital building. Many are somber faced, including a young boy, perhaps thirteen years of age. A sweaty, legal looking type stands next to him, speaking into the microphone. \n\n\"In regards to the situation in the Korean Peninsula, I have been authorized by my client, Mr. Billy Patterson of Charleston, South Carolina, to issue a statement on the matter.\" The sweaty lawyer opens up a piece of paper, reads silently for a few moments before clearing his throat and looking at the audience.\n\n\"Lololol Kimmy, get rekt you fucking scrub. Blowing up Japan or whatever won't change your game fag, get on my level or uninstall. Suck a big bag of dicks you fat Chinese cunt.\" ",
"\"why the fuk would u build vladimir on cm u autistic shit\"\n\n\"Что ебать ты просто чертовски говорят обо мне, вы немного сукой? Я вас знаю, я закончил вершину моего класса в армии, и я принимал участие в многочисленных секретных рейдов на Аль-Каидой, и у меня есть более 300 подтвержденных убийств. Я тренировался в гориллы войны, и я сверху снайпер в целых Отечества вооруженных сил. Вам это ничего не для меня, но только другая цель. Я протрите вам нахрен с точностью, подобных которым никогда не видели раньше на этой Земле, запомните мои чертовы слова. Вы думаете, что вы можете уйти с того, что дерьмо для меня через Интернет? Подумайте еще раз, ублюдок. Как мы говорим Я контактирую мой секретный сеть шпионов по всей USAand ваш IP-трассируется прямо сейчас, так что вам лучше подготовиться к шторму, личинка. Шторм, который стирает жалкий маленький вещь вы называете ваша жизнь. Вы чертовски мертвых, малыш. Я могу быть где угодно, в любое время, и я могу убить тебя в более семисот способами, и это только голыми руками. Я не только обучен приемам рукопашного боя, но у меня есть доступ ко всей арсенале Российской морской пехоты и я буду использовать его в полной мере, чтобы вытереть задницу жалкий с лица континента, вы немного дерьма. Если бы вы только могли знать, что нечестивый возмездие ваш маленький \"умный\" комментарий был готов обрушить вас, может быть, вы бы провели свой гребаный язык. Но вы не могли, вы не сделали, и теперь вы платите цену, вы идиот проклятый. Я дерьмо ярость все над вами, и вы будете тонуть в нем. Вы чертовски мертв, детка.\"\n\nThe headlines read; Vladimir Declares War on America Over Dota.\n\nFuck"
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[WP] You die and are reincarnated as a carrot.
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"\"I was surrounded by my family. Everyone I loved. It was my time to go. The last things I heard were the beeping machines, the crying relatives, the nurses and doctors all yelling at each other. It seemed chaotic. Hectic. But I was at peace. This was my time to go. I said one last goodbye and that was it. It was all over.\n\nThen...\n\nWHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING? I DON'T HAVE ANY EYES, I THINK I'M ALIVE, BUT HAVE I GONE BLIND? I CAN'T FEEL MY ARMS OR LEGS. THEY DON'T FEEL THERE. WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON? OW! SHIT! IS SOME FUCKING GIANT EATING ME? GOD DAMN IT NO! OW!\"\n\n-Alexander P. Carrot died on August 12th, 1984. Ironically, he was then reincarnated as a carrot, and died a second time on August 13th, 1984. It is still unknown who ate Alexander. Police are still investigating to this day. ",
"This is the tale of poor Mic \"Carrot-head\" McKelsey, may it serve as a caution to you. Mic was a short-tempered man, now he's even shorter still. He had a head of brilliant red hair, and everyone always teased him for it. \"Carrot-head, carrot-head,\" the children would taunt from the parking lot below his window. Every day, this would send poor Mic into a howling rage, throwing vases and coffee mugs and whatever he could get his hands on at those brats as they danced and stuck their tongues out at him.\n\n\"I'm sorry,\" his life-long crush Sandy would say, at her doorstep after another platonic date. \"You're a good friend, Carrot-head, but I can't go any further with a boy with hair as red as yours.\" Then she'd duck inside and watch secretly out her window as poor Carrot-head Mic took his anger out on his beat-up old Chevy.\n\n\"And now, the award for employee of the month,\" Mic's boss said, from the front of the conference room. \"Ladies and gentlemen, give it up for Carrot!\" Mic stood up, surprised and delighted, enough to overlook the offensive petname. But it was only a cruel prank. Laughter bounced off the walls as the boss produced a real carrot, in a real carrot tuxedo, and gave Mic a playful wink.\n\n\"Goodbye cruel world,\" said Carrot-head, and then threw himself off of the skyscraper. By sheer bad luck, he crashed into nothing other than a big crate of carrots. The precious lifeblood drained from his shattered body, as red as the carrots he landed in.\n\nBecause he committed the grave sin of suicide, poor Carrot-head Mic was reincarnated as a real live carrot. They put him in a carrot zoo, and every day, children came and pointed and laughed at him. \"Look, mummy,\" they would shout, giggling with glee, \"there's a real carrot-head!\"\n\n\"Hey, isn't that Mic, from upstairs?\" said a little boy, one of those damn kids Mic was always throwing things at. \"Looks like Old Man Mic finally found his place in life!\" Mic was furious, he wanted to grab a bunch of dirt in his hands and throw it, but there were no hands to gather it, Mic was a carrot.\n\nBut finally something good happened to our poor tired hero. When Mic had grown into an old carrot, with carrot-leaves white from aging, and the zoo was auctioning him off as cheap vegetable, who else should come buy him but Sandy, that life-long crush that always used to snub him. \"Oh Mic,\" she said, holding the carrot close, she was older now too, with some graying hairs of her own, \"I was wrong about you Mic, oh why couldn't I have seen it sooner,\" she gave the carrot a little kiss. \"Come home with me, Carrot-head, this time I'll let you inside.\""
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[WP] You're one of 5 photographers around the world allowed to capture 1 photo of the most evil tyrant the world has seen. You're stripped of everything besides a camera provided by the ruler himself. Heavily armed guards are everywhere. You have 3 minutes to kill him and leave completely unnoticed.
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"How much is one life worth, really?\nWe all die eventually. Some earlier than others. But no one evades death forever. \nI wanted mine to mean something. Even if no one knew, I would know my death would have helped those that the world had forgotten. At the end of the day, we live and die for ourselves. My death will mean something to me. And that's what is important.\n\nAs I got past the guards and walked into the room, I recalled the sting of the needle. I hid the fever well. I smiled and greeted the man before me. \n\nMy life for this man's life. He doesn't know it yet, but but by the time the fever takes him, it'll be too late. The man is well known for not taking prisoners alive. Well...neither does ebola.",
"He saw my lack of musculature and thought what everybody thought of me. *\"He couldn't harm a fly\"*.\n\nHis last mistake. The tyrant joined the list of over-confident targets that met their demise by my hands. But he was an exception, because I had used my bare hands. I always carried an iron knife or a venomous needle. This time guards had stripped me down, leaving me empty handed and naked.\n\nI was obviusly aware that would happen, so I didn't carry my usual equipment.\n\nI was led by some guards to his chambers. He was just like I expected him: tall, arrogant and over-confident. He ordered his guards out and said:\n\n\"Leave us alone, this will take just a few minutes. In case time passes and you have no notice of me, break in.\"\n\nI realised I was doomed. Three minutes wouldn't be enough for me to escape, and his castle was huge. But I kept going.\n\n\"Could you please start?\" said the tyrant.\n\n\"Yes, Mr...?\" I replied doubtfully.\n\n\"Mr Tyrant\" he said, raising his chin a little in sign of pride.\n\n\" Stand over there, next to the balcony\"\n\n\"Do you think I'm stupid?\" He said calmly.\n\n\"The photo looks better with the realm behind you\"\n\n\"Fair enough\" he said, as he underestimated me.\n\nI lined up the camera, pressed the button and awaited for the flash. Then I did the only thing that I could. I ran and pushed him with all my force. And he fell. And so did I.\n\nHe hit a balcony a few floors below. I was on top, so I had a few bones broken. But Mr Tyrant's head got squashed against the floor. \n\nDisgusted, I ran away.\n\nI moved in the shadows and left unnoticed. \n\nI still regret that day. Now he is a martyr. A battle was won, but the war was lost."
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[WP] Modern science has found a "Cure" to aging. Unfortunately, there are a few drawbacks, such as the requirement to ingest large quantities of human blood.
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"\"Your medicine is on the table whenever you are ready sir\" \n\nI dismiss her with a wave. She's loyal, more so then the last one, but I learned long ago not to develop attachments to them-or anyone for that matter. The only constant companion over these past years has been my own mind. Some of... lesser constitution would grow weary of a solitary life. Perhaps I have as well. But this project... lifetimes of work have led to this moment, all caused by the advances of the self-styled Dr. Sanguine. A bit of a melodramatic name, but I presume that geniuses have some leeway for things like that. \n\nAnd she well deserves the title of genius. Her lab discovered and pioneered a way to synthesize a variety of the telomoerase enzyme that actually lengthens the telomeres on human chromosomes. Curing aging. Slaying one of the horsemen of the Apocalypse. Remarkable.\n\nThe orange-red hue of the pills on the side table catches my eye. Of course, such an advancement was not without it's cost. Through some macabre method, Sanguine discovered that blood -human blood- was a key reagent in producing this enzyme. Lots of it. No other blood would work, and the sheer quantity of the stuff required necessitated some creative solutions. At first, the change was subtle. Degenerates begin to go missing off the streets. Officials praised the sudden drop in the crime rate, and no paused to question it. To them, a nuisance had simply disappeared. \n\nSanguine declined to publish her work, understanding the outcry which could result. Instead, she circulated news among some of her wealthy patrons. Demand skyrocketed. Living forever; no longer the content of fantasy. Sanguine neglected to inform her clients of the process by which this medicine was concocted. Although few were aware, her lab became the largest participant in human trafficking, all to fuel her patient's insatiable lust for the one thing their money could not previously buy: time.\n\nThat was 100 years ago, to the day. I was a lowly lab technician of Sanguine's, and quickly became disgusted by the injustices I witnessed daily. Men, women, children; all were the same, sources of the precious red gold. Slaughtered, like cattle.\n\nI left the lab in disgust, but not before sequestering enough of the medicine to last me for decades. I knew that to fight this enterprise would take me years. No one deserves to live on the backs of those they kill, however unwittingly. \n\nDecades passed, wasted by my ineptitude. I first began searching for another aging cure. Surly if there was one not built on the bones of the fallen I could stop the massacre. Years went by before I became exhausted by this approach, realizing the futility of it all. I realized drastic measured needed to be taken. Then, I hit on it. The horsemen needed to be reincarnated for these privileged few. I would be killing a few for the benefit of the many. This utilitarian approach became my only justification. The medicine itself needed to be the killer. Poetic justice I suppose. \n\nI genetically modified some of the most deadly blood borne diseases to be more resistant to cures, undetectable by the quality control scans used by the lab, and more deadly in their justice. I still knew some sympathetic colleges at the lab who had stayed throughout the century, hoping to stop it from the inside. They introduced my cocktail of death into the facility and escaped with their own stash of untouched medicine. I sold all my possessions, no longer needing them for my work, and used the funds to buy one final dose.\n\nMy fingers grasp the pill, and I marvel at the science contained in this simple capsule. I quickly swallow it, and settle back in my chair. No one should live forever. No... One...",
"Intro music plays. Trumpets blare like a ska crescendo before fading abruptly. The camera swings around set as they cue sound effects: stock typewriting sounds. I like to argue that it sounds too hokey. The board likes it. The pivoting camera gives a good view of the two reporters. White male, 40's. Latina female late 30's. We know our demographics. A voice over introduces the names as the camera stops on the handsome, well-groomed man. \"Our top story tonight, a shocking dark side revealed in the emerging Consenescence industry. Pilar, what have we learned?\" The camera cuts to Pilar, beautiful, serious, and with just the faintest hint of an accent. Pilar picks up, \"With the FDA set to approve Consenescence, the controversial new anti-aging drug, other countries are paying attention as Stan, our reporter on scene, shows all too well.\" The camera cuts to Stan, a somber looking hipster standing in front of a temporary building encircled in yellow police tape. A video overlay reveals his location as somewhere remote and poor. Stan lifts the microphone to his chest and begins talking, \"Human blood farms. That's where some villagers found themselves after visiting a mobile wellness encampment. With the demand for human blood set to skyrocket over the next few months, reports of organized crime running essentially compulsory bloodbanks are beginning to crop up. The police raided this encampment today, freeing dozens of blood slaves. I quoted an official here saying that what they are seeing is just the beginning of the blood profiteering.\" The camera turned back to Pilar, I zoned out. Five minutes in and the only segment that mattered to me that night was almost over. The only segment the parent company of Unage (trademark pending) was paying me a cool two million to produce. I don't completely understand why. I mean, I get that they are trying to paint the current anti-aging medicine in a bad light, I'm just not sure what their gimmick is. For all I know, they invented some new anti-aging medicine with the unfortunate requirement of needing to ingest newborns' faces. Now, they want to soften the blow of vanity's incredibly-cruel horribleness, by dragging their competitor's name through the blood. I don't care. I have no doubt the Consenescence company has swung millions the FDA's way. I've got bills to pay, and this might surprise you considering my seniority, but I'm a lazy man. Who cares if it comes out that this story wasn't true. We get it wrong all the time! It's expected of us. I snap my fingers making a gun that I point at the intern. I tell her to give me a report of social media feedback thirty minutes after the end of the segment I turn, go into my office, sit down in my chair, and pour about two fingers of Monagaheelie's over ice thinking that if that FDA approval somehow still goes ahead tomorrow, I need to get my hands on some blood."
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[WP] It's 5pm. You're at your desk and have to write an essay for noon tomorrow that you know will only take a couple hours. Write out your thoughts as you procrastinate.
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"They say that to start is half of the work... I started. So that's already half done. \"Games and Their Influence on Society\"... nice title. I'd better play some games to get my creative juices flowing.\n\n*Two hours later*\n\nMan, that's enough gaming for today... now I'm hungry. I can always quickly write up what I have in my head later on, so I'm eating dinner! I've always wanted to try out that Italian place...\n\n*One hour later*\n\nI'm too full to write down anything... maybe I'll just nap for a couple of hours.\n\n*Six hours later*\n\n...Huh? What time is it- two in the morning?! Man, I need to get this thing done before the deadline! Okay, so let's write the intro thingy... Ugh, I can't really think clearly, maybe I'll surf the web for some more ideas...\n\n*Three hours later, the intro is finally done*\n\nOh cool, this is some fun stuff... wait, now I've got only seven hours to do the rest of the stuff, shit! But I need to sleep again... Oh well, I'll just keep writing the essay until it's done... Almost there... zzz...\n\n*Five hours later*\n\n<yawns> That was a good night's rest... oh wait FUCK! I've got less than two hours and I've only just finished the intro! SHIT!\n\n*One hour later*\n\nC'mon, c'mon, c'mon, COME ON! THINK! THINK! THINK!!!!\n\n*Fifty-five minutes later*\n\nOh god, it's finally done... and I missed my morning classes to do it, shit. Now let's just proofread this whole thing quickly, quickly, quickly...\n\n*Four minutes later*\n\nFile sent! That was close, whew! Now let's check the essay again...\n\n...Oh fuck. I left that part out when I shouldn't have and now it all doesn't make sense FUCK!\n\n<looks at clock, deadline is already passed>\n\nOh well, it ain't the end of the world. I'll just do better on my next one.\n\n(Waaaaay too many of my own experiences went into this than I would like to admit XD)",
"This has been typed on my mobile, so I aplogize for any typos.\n\n------------------------------------------\n\n**5:00pm** Okay. Just 500 words. Man, that's less than I type a day just texting! Speak of the devil, my phone just buzzed!\n\n**5:01pm** Oh, it was just an e-mail. I should really clean out my inbox sometime. Oh, well, gotta focus on this. Okay, Mr. Wells wants a five paragraph, five hundred word essay. So if I just use 100 words a paragraph, I've got it!\n\n**5:10pm** My phone *chimed* this time. Now that's gotta be important! Or. . . My Candy Crush notifications. Wow! Georgia from my Geometry class challenged me. She's really cute, I don't want to be that guy that ignores people. One game can't hurt!\n\n**5:56pm** Damn, she's better than I thought. But you know what they say, seventh time is the charm!\n\n**6:17pm** Well, it's kind of a douche move to beat a girl in a game anyway. Now where was I? Oh yeah! Saving the honey bees in five hundred words!\n\n**6:20pm** You know, this is a tricky assignment! How am I supposed to write a decent essay if I've never seen a honey bee in action? How do I know if they're even worth saving? I better go observe some in action, the real life experience will give my essay some much needed credibility!\n\n**8:33pm** Those bees must really be dying because I didn't find a single one outside. I walked around in the freezing cold and not one of those little dudes buzzed by me! Okay. Don't give up yet, bro. This is what YouTube is for!\n\n**12:54am** HA HA! That cat has been chasing that light for FIVE MINUTES get it together, kitty! I'm calling it a night.\n\n**2:48am** OH NO MY PAPER! Okay, I'm not out of time yet. But what will I do for sources? I don't have time to comb through articles!\n\n**2:52am** <reddit.com/r/AskReddit>\n\n\"Reddit, how DO we save the damn honey bees!?\"\n\nI'll just browse to stay awake while I waiy for replies! Oooooh, I'll just read a few of Luna's stories!\n\n**3:51am** Oh come on! Every option has the same ending, Luna?! Oh, I have an orange mailbox! Man I should clean out my email inbox.\n\n**4:01am** Okay. I can fudge it enough to sound realistic.\n\n**5:23am**\n\nAccording to Dr. Cage, a professor at the University of Happening, honey bees have been going extinct and it is a very, very, very bad problem. Honey bees make our food grow and our flowers grow. What would guys do if they did not have flowers to give their girlfriends when they make the ladies mad? How will we eat if there is no food to feed our food - because cows have to eat if we want to eat too. We have to protect our honey bees. The following points are the very best solutions to the honey bees going extinct.\n\nHoney bees like to pollinate all flowering plants. However, gardening is an old person hobby, which is a contributing factor to why the honey bees are dying out, too. The best thing for the population under age 60 is to let their dandelions grow and not use a bunch of weed killer, because they are bad for the environment. If you have allergies, Polky Polk of Redd It Inc. suggests moving the dandelions that grow in your lawn to your neighbors lawn. This solves the problem of bees having nothing to pollinate from. It is a very, very good idea.\n\nAnother problem is that honey bees are an endangered species. Pandas are kind of stupid, so maybe we should make the honey bee more important than the pandas. According to Twizler the seventy third, whose family currently owns five hives, an active involvement in the raising of honey bees can lead to a successful future for the bees. Male honey bees are workaholics and their queen has too many kids to keep track of. People should do their part and help raise honey bees to be good hive citizens. There are classes that you can take and everything.\n\nFurthermore, we have to remember that we can't take advantage of the honey that honey bees give to us. If we do not appreciate the honey they work hard for us to have, they might hire lawyers to sue us for the rights to their honey. Then they will have so much they will not need to make anymore which means no pollination. Also, they will get bored if they have no work to do and will die. It was scientifically proven that it is possible to die from boredom. There is a delicate balance in nature and we humans have to maintain it.\n\nIn conclusion to my essay, there are so many things humans can do to save honey bees that it is stupid we are not. We should stop worrying about Tesla and Edison, because that is the past, and focus on the future of the honey bees. Honey bees make food for our food. Without out food we will get really unhappy. There is a correlation to the rising number of human suicides and the decline of the honey bee population. We cannot ignore the signs. If the honey bees die then we will too. We have to save the honey bees.\n\n**5:34am** Nailed it! Now for some much deserved sleep!\n\n**12:00pm** Turned it in right on time!\n\n**12:02pm** Oh man, I didn't double space and MLA format it! I'm going to fail and it'll be just because of that!"
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[WP] A world where people can only take a fixed number of steps
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"George checked his pedometer. *43800702*. He cursed under his breath and turned to survey the surrounding area. The attack on the lab had forced him to go way past his daily allotment. *Doc is gonna kill me,* thought George. He spotted a Nelson Corp segway handlebar sticking out of the rubble. It sat about sixty feet away from him. It would cost him about ten jumps to reach that point. *I can't afford this! I'm close to 50mil as it is!* \n\nGeorge cursed again and leapt. It was on the seventh jump that he saw the kid. Hiding behind a fallen piece of the ceiling was a young boy dressed in shorts and a compression shirt. Three dots were tatooed to the boys forehead. George froze. *We were attacked by the tribes?* That didn't make any sense since the lab was safely hidden behind the largest military encampment on the continent. George had thought it had been one of Nelson Corp's rivals. \n\nGeorge motioned to the boy and said, \"Okay kid what are you... Ta'vi? WaSooSoo? Karoa?\" The boy stared at George with large eyes and crouched down and began uttering words in a strange language. George could hear the word *WaSooSoo* being mentioned every so often. *What are you doing?* The boy flipped over, onto his hands and stood with his feet in the air. George had heard rumors that the Tribes didn't care about the step-death. Now he knew why. \"You can walk on your hands?\" The boy started to walk up the rubble, his calloused hands finding easy purchase on the rough concrete blocks. George laughed. *This is amazing! I wonder how this affects the step count?* As the boy crawled to the top of the pile of rubble a door exploded open from the back of the room. Instantly soldiers swarmed forward. A shot was fired and the kid fell backward behind the pile. \n\nGeorge turned around and saw ten soldiers and a man in a white lab coat. George screamed. \"Oh come on Doc! He was just a kid!\" Doc snorted, \"That... *kid* was a savage. Do you know how many people died because of his Tribe?\" Doc waved his hands dismissively. \"Forget about that. What is your step count at? We have work to--\" \"HE WALKED ON HIS HANDS,\" yelled George! \"He crouched down and said a WaSooSoo prayer or something and flipped over onto his hands... Doc... how did we ever miss that? We've seen that the tribes have never measured their steps! And look at their elderly count! I bet that if--\" Doc snapped his fingers and was handed a gun from a soldier to his left. \"You weren't supposed to see that, George.\" Doc took a step forward, pointing the gun at George. \"Nelson Corp makes billions of dollars every year helping people avoid walking into step-death.\" Doc fired three shots into George's chest. \"I'm sorry but we can't afford anyone to know.\"\n",
"This world went to shit the day we found out about the counters. Some scientist hooked up a machine to a young guy that was perfectly healthy one day and dying of what we knew as old age the next and suddenly he's got a measurement nobody's ever heard of reading zero. The guy said he was in the middle of a run when he just collapsed from exhaustion out of nowhere. Didn't take long for the brains to do enough testing to figure out that the counter is a step counter and when it hits zero you're done. As in days to live, at best.\n\nImmediately people stopped going to the gym for treadmills, nobody went outside for a daily stroll around the park to enjoy the fresh air and sunlight. Athletic competition ceased to be a thing, except for the truly poor that saw it as a way to raise their station. So basketball and football didn't really change much. Cars were used to get everywhere. Bicycles seemed to be less affected so they become more common, but most people were still glad to avoid them. Freaking segways stopped being such a joke in public. Now they were a way for the more wealthy to get around without using up their precious steps. The less well-off had to make do with things like scooters and skateboards. They still cost steps, but at least they save you a couple every time you slide. Even roller skates made a comeback. It was a wheeled renaissance, although rollways (we had to rename the sidewalks) are a real pain in the ass to navigate.\n\nNot all people were created equal, however. They started testing kids at birth to see what their step number is. In the civilized countries everyone had one of those little monitors strapped to their body somewhere, so we were all keenly aware of our time left on this Earth. Four hundred million steps per person was pretty close to the average, but by no means was everyone meeting that number, while some would vastly exceed it. People that might not have considered playing sports in the pre-counter era were suddenly looked at for participation because recruiters could play the \"excess counter\" chip, but it still didn't take much longer for sports of almost all kinds to die completely.\n\nOf course that didn't mean that you just strapped wheels on and called it good. Humans all over the globe became deathly afraid of walking for any reason. If you had money, automation or paying some poor person to do things around the house that required walking was the way to go. Money was dumped by the truckload into robotics to make sure that the needs of a humanity unwilling to move about unnecessarily were met. Everything was available for delivery. Amazon sped up their drone delivery system, and other companies did their best to horn in on that market.\n\nObesity was already a problem before, but it just got even worse when people had a good reason to be sitting around instead of getting outside to move about. Heart disease, diabetes, everything that was exacerbated by a sedentary lifestyle came roaring back to the forefront after previous years of decline. How could doctors prescribe what was once considered to be a healthy lifestyle of diet and exercise? To do so would be to force people to spend their most valuable currency. If we have learned nothing about humans in a few thousand short years it is that they will hoard precious items, and there is no longer anything more precious to an individual person than their steps.\n\nAs I sit here in my apartment, feet raised up on my step protector with a robot maid bringing me my insulin, it makes me wonder if that was the day that we collectively lost a huge chunk of what it is that makes us human. Certainly we were made for more than this, so why have we done it to ourselves? Average lifespans haven’t increased for anybody but the rich, since disease has taken an increased share of cause of death in people that live what was previously considered unnaturally long lifespans. We may have expected people to regularly start living into the 125 years range or higher, but that hasn’t yet happened outside of a few cases per year.\n\nSo why have we done this? I suppose it is as it always was – the perpetual fear of the unknown. Humans fear death for many reasons, but I think it boils down to that one constant. We do not know what comes for us after this life. \n\nSo maybe we should go out and start living it again.\n\n-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nLittle boring in my opinion. I was in a rut of not writing so I wanted to get something out there. Please let me know if you liked or didn't like certain things."
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[WP] You and your friends have developed a time machine in your garage for your senior project. You take it for a test drive to 200 years ago.. Only almost everything looks the same
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"We got out of the time machine and looked around but everything was the same, the house, the yard, the lawn mower, every object was at the same spot from when we left. Everything was the same except one thing, we were the only ones there, we searched almost every building in a 10 mile radius and no one was found. We spent about 8 hours just searching for someone else, never mind the fact that we traveled back 200 years and nothing has changed. For the first couple hours we thought our time machine was broken and our parents were playing a prank on us, but after the 5th hour of searching for someone else our anticipation of someone jumping out of a bush and yelling \"surprise\" had faded, and concern with a hint of curiosity took its place. We decided to take some videos and pictures and go back to the present to report what our experience was. Once we gave our report to the class, everyone looked at us in disbelief, except for our professor. He looked at us with the face of someone who just figured out how to sole a rubik's cube for the first time as he ran up to the front of the class. We took our seat and he then said that he had a theory of why this happened. He said, \"I have a theory, I believe that you guys went back 200 years but only in that moment. Imagine a flip book that shows us a moving image as the pages are flipped. Now imagine that those individual images are individual universes that have always existed or at least came to existence at the same time, and we can only experience each page one at a time, so to keep things simple let's say one second is one page of the flip book. Now let's say that life is a flip book and each page represents a universe and that universe is static however you view it as ever changing because you go to a different universe after every 'second'. When you went back 200 years you only went back in that instant/page/universe that has existed at the same time as all the universes, and because of this you arrived at that universe/page before everyone else which is why you could not find anyone. So time travel is like moving laterally, if you really wanted to see what it was like 'back then' even though it is all happening at the same time, you would have to 'flip the book backwards' i.e. travel through universes in the opposite direction like a fish swimming up stream.\" \n\nWe never did end up making a machine that jumps universes but it didn't matter, because all that did, was that we passed.",
"\"Amazing! This garage must have been around for 200 years!\" Tim said.\n\n\"Then why is your toy scooter still here?\" I asked him.\n\n\"Oh, I've been looking for that,\" Tim said.\n\nTim's dad walked in from the house. \"What's all the noise? I thought you were both at Jesse's?\" he asked.\n\n\"We couldn't get our time machine working,\" I explained. \"It-\"\n\nTim interrupted me, \"We've come from 200 years in the future! You must be my great-great-great-grandfather! I'm Timothy.\"\n\n\"Tim, it didn't work. Come on, we can still get an A if we show all the stuff we built,\" I said.\n\nOn the far end of the house, Tim walked in. \"Hey dad, I need to borrow the power drill. Me and Jesse are building a....\" he trailed off as he saw himself standing in the garage.",
"\"Shit!\"\n\n\"What? What happened? Is everyone okay?\" Josh practically fell out of the passenger seat, his movements anxious and uncoordinated as he extricated himself from the cramped machine. Chani didn't even look up from the device in her hands, pacing rapid circles around the garage and leaving me, as always, to sort out the confusion she left in her wake.\n\"Nobody died, Doomsayer. Look, is this the same garage? Did it work?\"\n\nJosh, or Doomsayer, as I liked to call him for his frequent, paranoid prophecies of death, looked around his parents' garage. To me, it looked pretty identical, but I'd never seen the place before today, the Final Day of the Project, and, not entirely coincidentally, the day my dad lost patience with our \"shenanigans\" and evicted us from his garage. Only to be expected really, considering how the last three Final Days had ended with explosions, billowing clouds of smoke and angry parents telling their neighbors not to bother the fire department again.\n\n\"Look, do you see anything different?\" I asked hopefully as Chani stormed by, glued to the chronometers she hoped would measure any displacement. \"Anything? Was that there before?\"\n\n\"…No,\" Josh said, eyes widening as he amended \"I mean yes\"—he turned to look at the machine that had brought us here—\"No, that wasn't…shit, I can't tell. I hardly ever come in here. Chani?\"\n\nChani's head snapped up, dark hair flying. \"It doesn't work!\" she shouted. \"The chronometers…the wave detectors…nothing works!\" I stumbled backwards as she practically collided with us in her panic, dropping to the floor as she pulled us in to see–\n\nChaos. The tidy readings she had pored over for weeks were gone, replaced by flashing lights, errors, impossible values. Displacement: -17362[]4. Error: Unreadable Waveform. Improper coordinates. Cannot resolve 4D vectors. As we watched, the whole thing crashed to black.\n\n [error: uncaught floating-point exception #0x4AF56B33]\n\n [A system call that should never fail has failed.]\n\n [Note: this exception is physically impossible and requires no handler]\n\nI didn't understand any of it. I was the builder, machiner of precision parts, assembler of complex circuits. Josh was the math guy, and Chani was the driving force, the only one who understood how my engineering and Josh's theoretical physics worked together to create The Project.\n\n\"This isn't even possible! How can the location resolver produce a negative number?\"\n\n\"Overflow?\" Josh suggested. \"I mean, I don't think the Project worked, how do we know that thing's any different?\"\n\n\"Overflow! In a 64-bit floating-point! There are no coordinates within light-years of here that could…\"\n\n\"Shit readings?\" I hastily suggested, eager to resolve the problem before Chani completely freaked. \"Loose solder joints? Blown capacitors?\"\n\n\"Programmer error?\" Josh interrupted. I shot him a warning glance before he upset her further, but she barely noticed the accusation.\n\n\"It worked for weeks! Poor computer, what happened? Come on, wake up…\"\n\nShaking my head slightly at our leader's apparent descent into madness (which occurred at least three times a day), I wandered over and started cranking the garage door open so we could have some fresh air while we figured out why the Project didn't work. Again. On the bright side, it didn't explode. Progress!\n\nThe door shuddered and squealed, deafeningly loud in the cramped room, and I wondered why Josh's family put up with such a POS.\n\n\"Doomsayer! Help me with this thing; it's your garage.\"\n\nJosh turned, his face white with shock as he whispered: \"This isn't our garage…\"\n\n\"What?\" I yanked on the lever and the door jerked up, revealing worn cobblestones and the front end of a car I had never seen before.\n\n\"What the…\"\n\n\"…We have an automatic door.\""
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[WP] You are an assassin that just received your next target. When you arrive at your targets location, he/she is waiting for you, and says "I always knew it would be you, make it quick."
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"He opened the door and entered the hallway and then let the door slam shut. The hallway was dark and cold and dusty. On each side were two closed doors, but on the opposite end stood a single open door. He walked slowly towards it, the floorboard creaking under his heavy boots. From the open door came a soft murmur. It was a man’s voice and it was saying a prayer. Aside from the voice the only sound was the ticking of a clock which stood on a small table against the wall. Halfway the man halted and got a pistol from his inside pocket. The man in the room stopped praying and then started yelling.\n\n“You don’t have to do this! They’re not worth it.” The man gasped for air. “I have money. I can give you money if that’s what you’re after. How much are they paying you? I’ll give you double!”\n\nThe creaking of the floorboards started again. \n\n“Please, I’m begging you! I DIDN’T KNOW! I didn’t know…”\n\nHe reached the door and stopped before it and then kicked it open and entered. They looked at each other. \n\n“You? It’s you? I should have known it was going to be you. It was meant to be I suppose. “\n\n“Yes,” he said and raised his gun and aimed it at the man’s head.\n\n“Make it quick.”\n\n“Do you see now that you were wrong?”\n\n“Please just end it.” The man said in tears. \n\nHe pulled the trigger. The man fell to the floor. He lay there in the dark, red blood and his face had an expression not of fear now but of relief.\n\nHe cleaned the gun and put it next to the body and then he left and closed the door behind him.\n\t\n\n",
"I stepped into the room, pulling the door behind me shut, releasing the doorknob so slowly no sound would escape. I pulled my knife out, soaked in blood from the eight bodyguards outside. Only one of them realized I was there before he died in my arms, gently lowered to the ground so quietly the sound of his blood leaking out was the noisiest part. I didn't love my work for the killing, but few occupations left me with such a thrill when the work was executed flawlessly. That's why the next sound I heard left me... disappointed. \n\n\"I always knew it would be you, make it quick.\" \n\nI heard the ruffle of blankets as the dark form in the bed moved. A light blinded me as the clink of a night lamp rang in my ears. When I killed, I killed in darkness, and this idiot had the nerve to call me out and ask me to kill him in the light. As much as the night was ruined, I still had a paycheck to collect. But first, I had to resolve a problematic point.\n\n\"What do you mean you knew it would be me old man? I'm a shadow, and you're a fat politician. I'd know if we crossed paths before.\" \n\nI jumped onto the foot of his bed and stepped, putting my foot on his chest, bringing the knife to his throat. This was a new way to kill. This was actually... refreshing? Even with my blade on his neck, he laughed. He laughed so hard my knife actually started to cut him. He didn't seem phased.\n\n\"You only do half of your research. You know I had fifteen guards in this complex, but you only needed to kill eight. You know when I go to sleep, when I wake up, when I leave on business trips. You even know where my safe room is. But it's what you don't know that's so funny. Who hired you for this kill? Mr. Shadowman? What does he do for a living? How does he have 23 million to just drop for my head?\"\n\n\"So you paid for me to kill you? That's nice of you.\"\n\n\"You idiot, you think I would pay for my own death? I like living just as much as the next guy. But you, you're a clear thorn in my path. I learned about you when we found you snooping my complex data. From there I traced everything back. You have never denied a bounty of more than 16 million, and you never back down once you've made a deal.\"\n\n\"That's true, so you know your dead.\"\n\n\"Yes, and I meant for this to go another way, I guess I wasn't as ready to die as I thought. This was supposed to be a bit more, anonymous, but I suppose I can do it here and now. 150 million for three targets, package deal.\"\n\n\"Are you trying to buy me, right now?\"\n\nI pushed the blade into his neck. More blood was seeping out now, a little more pressure and the cut would be fatal, though prolonged.\n\n\"Yes. I'm dead, we both know that. But I play this game all the time. Senator Kennedy beat me to it, but I want the last laugh. Your targets are Senator Kennedy, General Alexander, and Mark Summers. You know, the CEO of Intelligent Analytics. Do we have a deal?\"\n\nI thought about the offer. I'd never done a triple assassination. Surely one or two of them would suspect I was coming for them. This was new, fresh, I might even kill them all in one night, waking them for their personal finale. I had to thank this politician for changing my routine. It was starting to feel stuffy, and I finally had a breath of fresh air.\n\n\"Deal.\" I said, slitting his throat.",
"\"You're right, it was always going to be me.\"\n\nShe knelt silently, composed, elegant in her flowing white dress. I put the muzzle against her temple. I always used a small calibre pistol, the bullet bounced around inside the skull, killing quickly and without collateral damage, or even much mess. My mother had taught me the value of efficiency and cleanliness, and I appreciated those lessons every day that I applied them in this grisly work.\n\n\"What are you waiting for?\" she asked.\n\n\"Nothing Mother,\" I replied softly as I squeezed the trigger.\n"
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[WP] You are a surgeon about to begin a simple procedure. Just before you start, you see Death standing by in scrubs.
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"\"Stephanie, let Dr. Walker know i'll be in surgery - room three.\" \"Right away, Dr. Conrad.\" Dr. Wilson Conrad leaned into the heavy wooden door, its brass hinges, once gleaning for every new patient that came down these halls to see, now dull - lifeless. They groaned in protest, Wilson alike, groaned too. 22 hours. Had it been longer? Wilson cast his gaze over the clock that hung up on the pale green walls. The clock stood motionless, the very air about the room seemed to be trapped in the second - the moment before the starting gun of a footrace. The hammer had been cocked, the pistol raised, the cheers of on lookers became a soft roar in the background, a single bead of sweat rolled down his furrowed brow. Wilson looked up, he was there. Again. \"Off to get another, arn't you?\" he quipped. A man, maybe an old doctor or nurse once remembered, now forgotten. The man always wore the same outfit, surgical scrubs with one blue boot cover and one green one - that was the great farce of this life, not even death itself can get the right shoe on the right foot. Nobody else ever saw him, and yet he was always there - whenever Wilson lost a patient. He had tried therapy, seminars, medication, and even snake oil charms - nothing. When it stepped into the operating room, Wilson didn't even have to look in those cold lifeless blue eyes to know that his work was already over. The bead of sweat hung like a climber on the edge of great cliff, clinging to the last precipice of the rock face. Wilson cast his gaze down, the drop fell to the floor. The hammer of the gun swung down, the charge ignited and the starting pistol spewed forth a chorus of fire and noise. Wilson looked up - the visitor had left, the faint ticking of the clock could be heard in the background. Time had began to move once again. \"Maybe its all in your head\" he muttered. He walked over the sink and began to clean-up, the warm water gushed from the faucet, a torrent of water running down the cracks in his hands, great rapids, bumbling brooks, lazy rivers - a myriad of channels crossing, intersecting, taking away the dirt of the days work. Wilson began to whistle as he began to lather and scrub, an older tune, its melody was of a different era - vibrant, colourfull, a tune you'd want to grab the nearest girl next to you and rush to the dance floor while an old jukebox jumped to life. A faint smile grew across his cracked lips, his mind reliving the heydays of his youth, a different time, a different place. He finished washing his hands, and grabbed for the roll of paper towels, reaching forth, he saw the roll was empty. Pausing, he thought back to his encounter only minutes before with the blue and green shod man. Funny - he thought, he only appears in the room where the patient is.\n",
"\"Not today you son of a bitch. I see you. Not today.\"\n\n\nThe nurse gave a sidelong glance at the surgeon muttering in half-whispers almost too quiet for anyone to hear. But she heard.\n\n\nThe doctor didn't always mutter to herself. It was usually only in special cases: a car accident on the I-5 with a 16 wheeler that lost control; an idiot college student deciding he can jump into a pool from three stories up; or a 90 year old man who just suffered his third heart attack and whose wife was wailing in the lobby.\n\n\nShe only muttered when the case was going to be close. Her usual routine was to wash up, get gowned, and get to work. Dr. Cardea was the best at only 34 years of age. She always worked calmly, quietly, skillfully and when the job was done it looked as if she had never been there.\n\n\nBut on rare days, such as today, the nurse would notice an acrid smell would be lingering in the emergency room as she began her prep. It didn’t matter what case had gone before, or how well the room had been cleaned prior, the smell of decay would be wafting in the southern corner of the room. It was on those days that the nurse knew that her surgeon would break her routine. That she would stare hard into that corner, always the same corner, like she was facing down the death itself.\n\n\nOn those days Cardea’s blue eyes would change steely grey, she would mutter words that only I could hear, and then get to work.\n\n\nToday was the same. As Cardea stepped forward to the table, to the newborn babe born a month too early with holes in his heart, she summoned all her skill and prepared to begin.\n\n\nBut today was different. The smell was stronger. It was closer. It was surrounding me. \n\n\nAt that moment she hesitated. She gave me a glare with such power I felt the need to run from the room in terror. \nBut I didn’t.\n\nI simply looked back at her calmly and said “Let me help you with that Dr. Cardea. You see, I have an interest in him as well.”\n\n"
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[WP] In an alternant universe, "Earth" forms as two smaller planets, perfectly locked in orbit with each other; their distance similar to that of the Moon and our Earth. Regale us with the epics of this strange land.
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"Gerard woke to the sound of the hair dryer falling off to top of the wardrobe, and glancing off Claire's left temple. \"*Third time this week\"* he thought, \"*we're doing better than normal*\". For once he was glad to be woken up early. He threw off the covers letting the cool morning air make contact with his back. Claire plugged in the dryer talking at Gerard, rather than with him. The words bounced off him along with the occasional wave of hot air. Claire rolled up the cord and jumped to replace hair dryer on top of the wardrobe.\nGerard breathed through the pillow, deep and slowly before pushing himself up off the bed in a liquid practised motion, snapping up onto his feet. \n\n\"*Coffee!*\" beamed Claire.\n*Coffee* thought Gerard.\n\nThe coffee press plunged, dark coffee grains and light brown crème swirled together in familiar tight curls. Dark and light. Gerard squinted into the morning sun trying to make out the the finer details of view that greeted him today. A packed city of sky scrapers, the same. The wide streets and high concrete walls that surrounded them, the same. The sun, the same, well at-least the part he could see. The black outline of Beta was visible across the sun. The haze of the two atmospheres blended the green earth and blue waters into a view only seen once a cycle.\n\nThe last time he had seen Beta in the sky this way, the day had started well, but it certainly didn't end well. Claire always said, *\"At least you've got the story\"* every time he brought it up. The thought niggled at him behind the eyes like a particularly sharp piece of sand. Scratching at his knee where the hair no longer grew, he seated himself on the couch and sipped his coffee watching Claire pull on her deep blue bathing suit. He liked that about as much as the sand. They had been talking about this for weeks, as was everyone this time of the cycle, but their conversations had always ended louder than he wanted them to and never with ending he wanted.\n*At least she didn't run off in the middle of the night*.\n He lifted his mug and Claire dropped into the seat next to him, and swept up her feet placement across his lap whilst reaching for her own mug.\n\nBefore he had even fully opened his mouth Claire cut across him *\"Don't even think about telling me not to do it. We've had this conversation everyday for 3 weeks. I'm riding that wave\"* Gerard paused for a moment and closed his eyes, before placing the edge of his mug into his already open mouth. Flashes of white and shades of blue floated through his head. Bright sun followed by grey stone and a line of darkness turning with him. *Let's hope I don't get a sequel*.",
"Minty waited as the porter opened the gate to the front of the estate where they worked. She waved at him.\n \n\"How are ya today, Josophe?\"\n \n\"Fine as a summer breeze, Minty. You headed for Gaea?\"\n \n\"Hiosa, Josophe. The Silra call it Hiosa. They live there, so it's the proper name.\" She blew a bubble with her gum and popped it disapprovingly.\n \nThe old porter nodded his balding head. \"That's right. You always remind me. It's hard, you know? I never get to go over there. You, though, you go whenever the Ministress wants you to. I wish I could go with you some time; I grow bored of this door.\"\n \nMinty began to walk through the gate. \"You know they only allow a select few people to go over there. I'd love to take you with me, but they'd likely throw you back to Earth themselves.\"\n \n\"Well, bring back something new for me and I'll pay you double for it.\"\n \nShe nodded. \"I'll find something good.\" She skipped off to the pod chargers. She hopped into the closest one and told her destination to the onboard computer. The pod detached from its charger and silently navigated to the street then into traffic. As the compact vehicle carried her to the transferal station, Minty went over the list the Ministress had given to her. This week, she needed twice as much produce and three times as many flowers because there was a party. Minty shook her head. Every time the Ministress had a party, it meant a load of work for her. She was one of the few humans that the Silra let on their home planet, Hiosa. Ever since the two planets had been reunited a century ago, humans wanted anything they could get from Hiosa. However, the Silra were a very particular species. They had some unknown criteria that a human had to meet before they would allow it to even set foot on their planet. Silra were free to roam around on Earth as they pleased, however. Interestingly enough, they did not have a fascination with humans and the things of Earth as humans did with the Silra and the things of Hiosa. The Silra tended to keep to themselves. The people of Earth, however were not so considerate. People with power and money, such as Minty's employer wanted everything they could get from the sister planet. They would employ the \"Allowed Ones\" such as Minty to run errands on Hiosa in order bring back the rarities and delicacies the planet had to offer. The Silra did not allow for large-scale exportation of their goods, thus the only way to get exactly what you wanted from Hiosa was to have an \"Allowed One\" get it for you. Minty was paid quite well to run these glorified shopping trips.\n \nThe pod pulled up in front of the station. Minty opened the door, but was stopped short when her sleeve caught on the door latch.\n \n\"Ah, come on...\" She mumbled as she wrestled to get the heavy material unhooked from the door. She was wearing a top of the line transferal suit that was just as stylish as it was functional. After all, the Ministress did not want her affiliates walking around looking like common transferers. Minty's suit was a deep gray with neon green accents. It was designed like a jumpsuit, with the shoes connected to the pants and the zipper hermetically sealing the suit once the helmet was on. The glove hook on her sleeve was what was stuck, but she soon undid the snare and continued into the station. The pod zipped off to find another charging station.\n \nMinty chewed her gum as quietly as she could, but it always made so much noise in the cavernous hallways of the transfer station. She reached the closest available launcher and waved at Benhamin as he unlocked the chamber door from his protected station. As soon as she was in the launcher station, she started digging her helmet out from her pack. Benhamin's voice sounded over the PA system in the station.\n \n\"What flavor are you going with today?\"\n \nShe blew a large bubble, the green of her gum matching the highlights in her transferal suit.\n \n\"Ah, spearmint. Nice. I couldn't do it, though. I don't know how you can stand to always be chewing that stuff, Naetalya.\"\n \nShe decided to ignore the annoying fact that he had used her real name instead of the nickname she had earned by always chewing gum. Benhamin always liked to try to get under her skin. Well, two could play.\n \n\"You should try it, though.\" She said, her voice muffled by her helmet. She started slipping on her gloves, hooking them into the fabric loop that had caught on the door. \"It's good for your jawline; works it out and makes it strong. It might make your chin look less feminine.\" She hit the \"Seal\" button on her wrist and the suit came to life, pressurizing and quickly diagnosing itself for problems. Benhamin's voice sounded muffled through the material of the suit.\n \n\"Very funny.” He huffed from behind the thick glass separating his station from the rest of the Transferal station. “OK, check your gloves.\" She tugged on the fingertips of the gloves. They stayed securely in place.\n \n\"Check your helmet.\" She ensured the helmet was properly sealed as well. Her ears popped as they adjusted to the pressure. Yet another thing that her gum was good for.\n \n\"Let me see your 'nostics.\" She showed him the small screen on her wrist, which was lit up with several green lights, indicating an \"all clear.\"\n \n\"Alright, you're set. Move to the center of the pad.\"\n \nShe moved the center of the room and stood on the launch pad. She kneeled down and looked up at the big open roof. She could hear the magnetic drivers starting to power up.\n \nBenhamin was even harder to hear of the whine of the drivers. \"Weather is good on Second Earth and on Gaea, so you should have an easy trip and wind up right where you need to. Best of luck over there.\"\n \nMinty jumped into the air right when the drivers reached their highest pitch. Right at the peak of her jump, the magnets grabbed the fibers of her suit and shot her up the accelerator tube and into the air above the station. She had practiced for months to get that jump right. It looked like she had jumped out of the ceiling of the building under her own power. It was a trick few even bothered to learn, but it was one she always enjoyed. She felt the slight deceleration as the speed from the accelerator tube began wear off. However, she was sped up again by the next structure, an accelerator ring. They were carefully aligned to guide her out of the atmosphere and put her on a course towards Hiosa. She kept her body straight as an arrow as the next ring grabbed her and shot her through. The friction of the air began to cause the outside of the suit to heat up and the heated cone of the air's resistance pushed against her. Yet she still sped up. She had passed Mach 2 some time ago and was quickly approaching the edge of the atmosphere. With a sudden release of resistance, she was free, speeding through the emptiness of space. This was her favorite part. The silence here was so complete that it was luxurious. She looked around at the debris field that formed a single ring surrounding the two planets. It twinkled in the sunlight, pieces of metal and rock mingling. It was a testament to the history of the two planets. ",
"A huddled mass of cave men, women, children, and tribal elders lay around a dying fire, full from the evening’s kill. It was a clear night, with no clouds, and Other World was at its lumination peak. This happened for a few days every 47 days. On our world, the numbers are a little different, and it’s known as a full moon. But Other World was different. From half illumination to dim illumination, there appeared to be an orange glow in sporadic locations across the planet. This glow had existed for generations, and over time, appeared to grow.\n\nThe inhabitants did not understand the glow, but there were legends passed through the generations that this glow was fire, consuming Other World. It was punishment from the Gods of their world. They didn’t understand what the punishment was for, but it kept conflict at bay. Tribes worked together, helped each other, shared food, inventions, resources, ideas, and strived to please the Gods so that their world would not be consumed by the fire as was Other World.\n\nThe inhabitants never had reason to doubt the round-ness of their world as well. Even cavemen had a strong grasp of astronomy and geometry, seeing another world orbit so closely. They knew their world was not flat, and was finite, and that if they walked long enough, they wouldn’t fall off the edge, but simply return to where they started.\n\nOver the past few cycles, small trails of vapor were seen behind small illuminated dots that appeared to fly away from this sister planet. This was different. The inhabitants were terrified. Were the Gods coming to bring the fire? This continued for several cycles and ceased for years. Then again, small dots of light would arc up, and return to Other World.\n\nOne day a small arc of light shot up from Other World, and didn’t arc back down. It continued. The inhabitants watched, terrified as this dot of light grew brighter and brighter. They watched in terror as the dot of light disappeared, then appeared again as a brilliant orb of white light, trailed by orange flames and black smoke streaked through the sky. Then the flames stopped and the object fell. There was a huge hiss, and four giant jets of vapor shot from the bottom of the object, slowing its descent. And then it fell, gently upon the soil near the tribe. The inhabitants cowered behind trees and vegetation, and peered down on the object, still smoldering from its decent. The bottom, stained black from the heat, and the top, as white as any cloud opened up. A strange object appeared from the cylinder that had opened from the top. It had four large round objects attached to its underbelly, and contained a variety of sticks, and unknown metal objects. On the side of the object was writing. It was much different from the script of the inhabitants, which was very primitive and not unlike hieroglyphics. It said simply “NASA.”\n",
"The sound of his own breathing roused Thomas from his day-dream. Remembering Sam, Winston, everyone back home. His Mom. Hells – his Mom. What would she say?\n\nSalt spray tinkled against the steel of his armor, leaving small trails that held the last of the sunrise. \n\n“Mom would like to see THIS at least.” \n\nThe stirring of the company along the prow of the ship forced him to stand, his left leg sleepy from hours kneeling on watch. Thomas’ stung leg fought with him as he turned to join the march down the gang way – and The Spur filled his vision. He had never seen anything so huge. What had begun as a purple dot on the horizon, the Spur now loomed large, encompassing everything Thomas could see. Everywhere in the distance were pockets of dense canopy – green and blue trees without end. And the curve. The great curve of the Spur that bent land and sea in a circle that disappeared into the sky. \n\nBetween the trees, however, Thomas’ heart dropped into his shoes and squished around like melting Jello. At first the bald spots were few and far between but as the march crept on, they became a unified landscape of horror: craters filled with bodies, abandoned machines of war from ages long past. The combined detritus of generational hatred and war unending gave way to constant twilight and Thomas’ small, silent hope to survive. \n\nThe War of the Spur predated all knowledge. Between memories of home and women, the cookfire stories of the Spur would start as they always did. \n\n“You know, my father was a scientist at the University..”\n\n“My brother worked for the Bishop..”\n\n“My sister led the campaign against…”\n\nBut all came to the same conclusion – God had punished the world with the Spur. The haunted, deadly, frozen corridor between two worlds. Only God could have frozen the nascent planets’ alignment so perfectly as to have bridged them across the vast chasm of space. Only God could filled the world on the other side with terrible monsters beyond imagining. And only God would send legions of devout followers to cleanse the planet and claim it in his name. \nBut Thomas wasn’t devout anymore – he doubted anything could have made the cesspools of carnage now surrounding him. Anything, of course, besides those that came before him…\n\n(be kind - my first ever account and first ever submission; long time lurker)"
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[WP] Start with a tragedy - and then tell me how it is actually a happy ending.
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"Sam looked down at Jeremiah's fresh corpse lying in the tobacco field. \n\nThe hot sun beat down on the dead man's forehead, which had begun to burn and pinken. \n\nHe'd been a simple farmer, with two kids. His wife, Caroline, had been his sweetheart since he was a boy. They'd sit under an oak tree near the swamp and have picnics during grade school, braving the teases and taunts of their peers in the name of young, innocent love. \n\nNow, he was dead and Caroline was still napping up at the big house.\n\nSam broke off in a sprint toward the bog, where a small canoe leaned against a tree-- which he would use to paddle down to the river and sail north. Tears streamed down his face.\n\nHe was a free man.",
"A man stood at a podium in front of a conference of people. His weathered, white hair hung softly on his head. His glasses seemed to sink into his aging face. But he carried distinction of a man who had forged his life around a single area of expertise. He was hear to make a speech that could shock the history of the world. The audience sat uncomfortable as the sensed the impending revelation. \"While at our recent dig sight in the southern hemisphere, near the formal capital of the ancient Itherian people, I found a poem of our two civilizations right after we met.' The man began. The room grew more silent as he continued on, \"it seems odd that two millennia ago we were a separate people. We had different ideas, beliefs. Everything about us was different. The idea that the Encanti enslaved and conquered the Itherians as always been the prevailing theory to our present society. I offer new evidence that some of you may find shocking.\" He reached under the podium and withdrew a single peace of parchment concealed in a glass case. The poem was dirty and the ink fading. \n\nA low awe spread through the room. Almost 1500 years ago all of the Itherian writings had been lost when a volcanic eruption consumed their former continent. By then the content was uninhabitable and all the Itherians had long ago absorbed into the Encanti society. This poem was the first piece of literature to be uncovered since. The man new the impact of this discovery. He placed it with careful elegance onto the podium and pressed his glasses deeper into the ridge of his nose. \n\n\"We survived \nIt was the end of us \nIt could have been worse \nWe tried so hard \nWe needed to be reborn \nWe decided to give up \nEverything changed \nAfter awhile we started to notice \nWe acted like them \nThings seemed better \nBut they weren't \nWe were killing ourselves \nWe deserved our fate\" \n\nThere were now loud murmurs coming from the crowd. Some of the Itherians began shouting at the Encanti. Though long ago the two races have been equal and enjoy each other company it is still sore for many to believe they had been brutalized and conquered in the past. This new evidence only fueled the fire. The man at the podium unleashed a booming voice that surprised an silenced everyone. \"There is more,\" he said as he reigned in his authority. He reached into the podium revealing additional writings sheathed in glass plating. \"In the dig site we uncovered a whole library for the Itherians, with most items intact. This is a monumental discovery indeed and will be remembered for eternity,\" He paused as the room hung on his words, \"we've discovered enough to realize the ancient Itherians had a fundamental difference in writing. While we read top to bottom, they read bottom to top.\" Somehow the room became even more silent. No one drew breath. It was as if all the sound in the room had been sucked away. History was rewritten that day."
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[WP] The Odyssey takes place entirely in IKEA
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"Odysseus' son, Telemachus, had just defeated the Hydra. After weeks of searching for his father, he was nearly lunch for this most foul beast. He was just ready to head on to his next journey when suddenly a massive, horrible giant came and destroyed his ship. He drew his weapon and was about to slice off its head when...\n\n\n\"sir.....SIR! can you PLEASE leave the store?\" Telemachus looked up at the store worker. He sat alone, naked, on the floor of the IKEA store \"You've been running around here for days yelling things about avenging your father, finding your mother, being lost at sea. You've destroyed all of our model beds by attacking them with PVC swords, broken 3 of our desks by body slamming customers into them, and horrified our store manager calling her Circe and pretending to turn into a pig, making the most awful noises. If you don't leave the store NOW, i'm calling the police. No, not the castle guard, the police. You're a 35 year old man who hasn't bathed in a week, we're sick of your shit.",
"An utter prick. She was babbling on and on and on. I must have broken a mirror this morning because this was just my luck. Nagging me and flirting with me. Consumer bloody survey. She kept asking me and I kept saying 'No, I've got to go and find my wife thankyou'. Her team leader came over and saved me thank god. She even offered me some vouchers or something. I snapped them up and headed on my way.\n\nAt this point my son was going to Mcdonalds next door and halfords, where he bumped into my mate Neil's son who decided to join him (probably just for the McDonalds)\n\n\nWell back to me, I took about ten steps away from that nightmare of a woman and then realised I had no clue where I was going. It just so happens there's a doorway to a stockroom or staffroom or something and a gaggle of staff on the other side. I say loudly through the plastic drapes 'Bloody hell where am I'. It just falls on deaf ears, so I'm stood there looking about trying to spot my family and behind me I hear someone chatting. I just catch the end of the conversation.\n\nShop Assistant 1 (SA1)'remember that chap having and argument, trying to find his family to?'\n\nSA2 'Can we help you at all?'\n\nI'm still looking away, with the fairies trying to spot my family. I tell them the situation.\n\nSA2 'Let me get my manager'\n\nI look towards this gaggle and they recognise me. Of course I was that guy having an argument. They start recalling how annoying the other fellow was.\n\n'Tell me about it' I say.\n\nThey direct me to the checkouts so I have my bearings and I head on my way. Low and behold, who do i see. James from work. He's good at his job and is always nice to me but gosh he's big. Mid sixties beer belly and just crams food down, the bloody swine. He tells me my family are at the checkouts and I say i'll see him in a bit.\n\nWell the wife's near the checkouts, with my son watching the situation. She's got about three men loading some flat pack onto her trolley. I head over and start helping out, with the dog wrapping itself around my leg.\n\n'You alright mate?' the first one asks clearly not knowing who I am.\n\n'Yeah, I am actually, this is my wife'\n\n'Oh' he says still helping out. I give him a little shoulder check clearly indicating that i can lift this last bit of furniture in the trolley. He doesn't quite get the message and then James and my son start helping out putting these young chaps quite clearly out of the job. Finally everything's accounted for and off to the checkouts we go. Never again."
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An Infinity Room?
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[WP] When you die, you're put in control of a universe right from the "start". You're assigned a room with your universe, and it's right next to the guy who's running your previous life's one.
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"\"It's just down this hall and to the right,\" the secretary says. \n\n\"I'm still trying to grasp the part when you said I'm dead,\" you say.\n\n\"There's nothing to grasp,\" she says, eyeing you suspiciously. After her comment, you have a difficult time not staring at her curvy behi-- *Stop that, you idiot,* you think.\n\n\"Here's your room,\" the secretary says. \"Enjoy. Your universe awaits.\"\n\n\"I'm still not following,\" you say, but she's already turned away and retreats. You stare one final time before turning the knob and walking into the dark room. You fumble on the wall and find the switch. You toggle it on. A blast of light fills the room blinding you momentarily.\n\n*...and then there was light.*\n\nThere is no floor below your feet, yet you stand.\n\nAll around you is dark, but for the bright ball of gaseous light expanding from the center of infinite space.\n\n\"Oh, shit!\" you say. Fumbling behind you, you grab a doorknob in the center of nothingness and stumble back into the hallway. Back against the closed door, you breathe heavily. You knock on the door to the next room over. You pound when there's no response.\n\nAn old man with a long white beard opens the door, pokes his head out.\n\n\"What do you want?\" he says snarkily. \"I'm busy in here.\"\n\n\"I...boom...dead...blackness...\"\n\n\"Speak up,\" the old man shouts. \"I'm nearly deaf. I've got all these voices shouting for my attention and I can hardly hear them. You're not any ... wait a minute. I know you.\"\n\nThe old man looks behind him for a second and then stares concentratedly at you. \n\n\"You just died. On Earth. You're here?\"\n\n\"I just want some answers.\"\n\n\"Listen bud,\" he says. \"I'm God, I don't do answers. I've got a universe to run. I don't have time for this shit.\"\n\nGod slams the door in your face.\n\nHe opens the door again panicked. \"Wait, you didn't turn on the switch in your room yet, did you?\" he asks.\n\nI nod.\n\n\"Fuck. Do you know how bad things get when you leave them unattended? I made that mistake at the beginning and I'm still trying to sort out the mess. Get back in your room *pronto* and pray to yourself that it isn't too late to clean up the inevitable shitstorm. Entropy Sucks!\"\n\nHe slams the door again as loud explosions emanate from behind the door.\n\nNot knowing what else to do, you rush back to your door. *Well, here goes nothing,* you think. Taking a deep breath, you open the door and step inside."
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[WP] Researchers trekking deep into the rainforest stumble upon a group of chimpanzees that seem to have discovered how to make fire.
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"\"By god, look at the scale of this one,\" said the surveyor to the scientist. The painting was quite massive, sprawling on the face of the oak, detailing it with colored depictions of panthers, apes, even snakes. \"Shame it won't preserve for more than a few decades.\"\n\nSuddenly the guide interrupted, \"You better come see this.\" \n\nThey went along a game trail, dodging leaves and vines when they came across what the guide had. \n\nA large group of chimps, screeching, flailing as they danced, one of them striking a hollow log in an unsteady beat. And in the center of this chaos and debauchery was what the researchers had been long been seeking. Fire.\n\n\"By god, they've done it,\" said the surveyor.\n\n\"To think, all of the conditions that have to have been perfect for this moment,\" the scientist reflected.\n\nThe guide, breaking protocol, then asked, \"How long do you think it will be before they start to look like us?\"",
"As we hiked through the unforgiving landscape, cutting down the infinite foliage laid out in front of us, we began to lose hope. It seemed that the mythical ruins were nowhere to be found. All the legends and the stories led to this place, yet nothing was here. \n\nAs I gave my team a disheartened sigh, we all heard a strange noise coming from near by. Everyone stopped moving, the noises were coming from a quarter mile east. We exchanged nervous glances and silently decided to go investigate. As we crept through the jungle, the noises began to get louder. It sounded like chimpanzees, but they were making strange noises I had never heard before. Finally we exited the thicket into a open area, and stumbled into chimp territory. \n\nAll of the noises suddenly stopped, and all of the chimps suddenly looked directly towards us. In the silence, the alpha chimp slowly walked towards us, with a small wooden branch in his hand. He handed it to me and all the monkeys looked towards me in eager anticipation.\n\nWhat did they want me to do with it? I looked towards my team for some reassurance but they were all in shock. I gave the apex chimp a confused glance and he angrily took the stick back from me. Out of nowhere, a group of monkeys started to slap some nearby trees. They were making a beat. I stared at them in disbelief, but my curiosity and confusion was cut off by the alpha chimp. He began yelling into the stick, as if it were a microphone. \n\nAll of the other chimps watched the apex chimp, clapping in rhythm. I wasn't sure whether or not I was hallucinating, because there was no way this could be real. I reached out to a fellow researcher and the look on his face told me that this was very real. The chimps went into a crescendo and suddenly stopped. The alpha chimp crossed his arms, and stood back to back with another chimp. He dropped his mic and that's when I realized.\n\nThese chimps had created fire.\n\n(I am so sorry)"
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[WP] Everyone has always told you how irrational your fear is. Today, however, it proves completely rational after all.
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"Mostly, it's in the way they scuttle. That's the only word I can use to explain it- the unnatural this-way and that-way movement of their nightmarishly jointed legs. It's not a crawl, because babies crawl, and babies are innocent and gentle. It's not a walk, because dogs walk, and dogs bring laughter and joy to people's lives. It's a dark, maniacal scuttle, that allows them to dart away and hide from the death they so righteously deserve.\n\nI suppose, if I think about it, their homes are equally as perverse and heinous. They stretch these nests into shadowed corners and hang them from the sky so that there is no escape from these reminders that close by is one of *them*. They look so fragile, and sometimes, when the sun shines, glint merrily like diamonds, but do not let yourself be deceived. These tangled webs house monsters.\n\nYou may laugh, as most people do, and sneer at my paranoia. Whisper in tones just loud enough for me to hear that I need to grow up, to get over it, to live in harmony with them as they do with me. But you will see, and soon. Everyone will see. They do not live as peacefully as you all think. They are not more scared of me than I am of them- they aren't scared of nothing. Now, I know, for certain, that they have no fear, and then no courage, no morals, no soul, no concept of this harmonious co-existence you all have invented. They know only pain. And suffering. And how to inflict it.\n\nThe red bump on my side is small at the moment, but I know it will grow. From the site where those venomous fangs sunk deep into my flesh, the poison will spread, and infect my lungs and mind until I am nothing but a husk of meat, and then my attacker will return and he and his pack will feast upon my body. I am sure of it. The itching has already begun. It is too late for me, but I hope that you will take my story as a warning and never again doubt the danger of those vile creatures.",
"The soulless, black beady eyes gave them away. I told my parents I was afraid. I told my friends, too. I told anyone who would listen that they should be afraid too.\n\nPeople tend not to believe you when you tell then teddy bears are portals between our world and theirs. I saw it though. It was the eyes. Just a glint here, a reflection in a dark room.\n\nI think they thought it was funny at first, at least the kids at school did. My parents just ignored it, at first. When I was six, I ran into my parents room at 3AM screaming. They thought I gave myself the bruises. I didn't.\n\nI can't be sure, but I think the bears knew I saw them for what they were. Demons. Damaged souls. I'm not sure, I know they were bad. \n\nThat was years ago, of course. They tell me the bears can't hurt me. I believe them. The bears could never get in here. That would be ridiculous.\n\nI didn't see it happen. But I remember the aftermath. Vividly. \n\nI woke up in the middle up the night. The house was quiet. The familiar glint from the rocking chair in the corner missing. The bear finally left me.\n\nA gasp from the next room. My mom. I went to to see, to discover. I've never used the word crimson before. I can use it now. The room was splattered with crimson trails. \n\nThe gasp was my mom's last breath, escaping not from her lips. From her neck.\nMy dad was dead. He must of been. A body can only hold so much blood. Crimson.\n\nI was found the next morning with the knife in my hand. I know the bear did it. They didn't laugh when I told them. Not anymore.\n\nI'm nearly eighteen. I get out soon. Tomorrow maybe, or the next day. I stopped telling them about the bears long ago. I didn't forget. I lied.\n\n\n\n\n",
"When I was five, my mother spent a large portion of her time trying to force me to take a bath. I would shriek and squirm just out of her grip each time she tried to pick me up and place me in the warm water. After an hour of struggling and finally enlisting the help of my father, she would laugh and say to me “See! It’s not so bad.” \n\nDespite the frequent assurances from my father that “it’s just a phase; he’s testing boundaries,” I continued my battle against cleanliness. After a few weeks, my father began doing more errands, running to the grocery store for milk as my mother was drawing my bath. My mother developed a new pre-bath time ritual of a glass of wine. Her ritual evolved over time from one glass to two then three.\n\nEventually, the look of sheer desperation on my mother’s face drove me to the water. A look can only spur motivation for so long, however, and I was out of there as quickly as possible. As time went on, I was able to take baths on my own, but as infrequently as possible and I would remain in the water only as long as strictly necessary.\n\nWhen I reached high school, my friends always wanted to hang out at Zach’s house during the summer. His parents were wealthy and loved having all us kids come over. Each time we would visit, his mother would bake us cookies and show us the new game she had bought for him. We visited more frequently, however, when his parents were on one of their many business trips. They never seemed to notice how much of their liquor went missing while they were gone. At these parties, girls would often be convinced to drink enough to go skinny-dipping in the pool. All the other guys looked forward to this, but I was always conspicuously absent during these impromptu swims. When I was finally drunk enough to confess the reason for this to my best friend, he said that being afraid of water is the dumbest fucking thing he had ever heard. Luckily he had no recollection of that night the next morning.\n\nI spent my adult life making excuses for missing pool parties, fielding comments about how only drinking soda was unhealthy, and staring at the condensation dripping down the sides of full glasses of water after the ice has all melted.\n\nThe day James O’Connor, the “silver fox” of WNBY 12, reported that a rat poison factory had been exploded by animal rights activists was rather uneventful. People were nonplussed when he updated the story with the details of how federal authorities discovered the company had been illegally using thallium in their rat poison, despite its being banned because of its non-selective toxicity. No one was even concerned when it was reported that several large vats of the chemical leaked due to the explosion. When, three days later, people were calling out of work sick in droves, everyone assumed it was just another of those seasonal bugs making the rounds. Then James O’Connor’s pale face appeared on the television. He was missing chunks of hair and sweating profusely. He had just received breaking news that it was just now discovered that our water filtration system had been malfunctioning for the past week. It was only when he croaked out “don’t drink the water!” before promptly collapsing that people began to be concerned, but by then it was too late.\n\nNow I’m the only person left. Other than the rich people who only ever drank bottled water, that is."
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[WP] A time traveller takes a walk through a forest. Suddenly, he stumbles upon his/her own dead body.
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"“I didn't know where I was. Honestly, it didn't matter. I was just having fun. A Hobo in Space-Time. Spiraling through history, no place to go, no place to stay. Meeting and greeting people like Bon Jovi, George Washington, and Hitler... \n\t\nActually, Hitler wasn't that bad of a guy, if you ignore the whole genocide bit. Made a killer pork roast.\n\t\nAnyway, I was making my way through through these woods. Spooky as all hell, I tell you. A floor of dead pine needles made the ground a dull orange, fog coated everything, and the trees that loomed out of the fog were freaking huge. Like, skyscraper big.\n\t\nThere was this...weird sound. It was like a giant, stomping. Over and over again. A kind of macabre drum beat.\n\t\nSo of course I followed it. I was curious. I'm always curious. That's how I got to traveling in the first place, and that's what keeps me going today.\n\t\nAnd...that's when I trip over something. I thought it was one of the roots of those trees, but then I turn to look, and...”\n\t\n**The Space-Time Hobo took another long drink of his beer, and a dark look passes on his face.**\n\t\n“It's...it was *me*. My own dead body. My corpse.\n\t\nIt's a feeling like no other, seeing your...future corpse. If nothing else, It reminds you that you're mortal, no matter how much you warp back and forth through time.\n\t\nI was scared, paralyzed. I mean, what do I do now? Die? Stay here and starve?\n\t\nAnd then I realized...I'm a *time traveler.* I can always die here later.\n\t\nSo I left.\n\t\nBut you need to realize something...”\n\t\n**He looked me dead in the eyes then, and said:**\n\t\n“I'm on the clock now. I've got to go back there, and die. Someday. Sometime.”",
"Tobias had been traveling for so long that he felt more accustomed to the glitchy feeling the wormholes gave him than the stability of getting stuck in a single timeline.\n\nHe was trotting down a forest in ancient Siberia, whistling his favorite tunes from various time points. The crunching of pine needles echoed throughout the metropolis of trees and underbrush. \n\nA deer skittered through the trees, heading north and in a haste. Curious, and never one to initiate his time skipping, he followed. It wasn't hard- he had trained his body extensively in Genghis's army, climbing the Himalayas for fun.\n\nThe midmorning Sun spotlighted a path for him as he jogged behind the deer until it brought him to a clearing. There, he found his body, crushed under a tree. He stood stunned for but a moment before time jumping to another timeline.\n\n~\n\nHe ran through New York- now called New New York- until he stopped in front of a cloning lab. The process was over in minutes.\n\nHe took his clone through Time and Space to the forest back in 2208. As it was meant to happen, the deer showed up and led the two Tobias back to the clearing. \n\nHis body lay there again. He told his clone, \"That's *my* body, *you're* a clone. I doubt anything will happen to you.\"\n\nShowing doubt, Tobias 2 went across the clearing. An old and dying tree, after millennia of life, finally collapsed, onto the clone Tobias, replacing the other dead Tobias.\n\nSuddenly, the Continuum glitched. It sputtered in itself, unsure of whether to replace the clone with Tobias 1 or leave it be, and if the former, to send him to which timeline? The multiverse was having an identity crisis.\n\nThe crushed clone and tree became a black nothingness, devoid of all matter: devoid of being devoid. \n\nThe multiverse seemed to split as Tobias screamed into the nothingness void. Then, everything went dark. \n\n\n ",
"**Today 02:15PM**\n\n*Can't believe its raining*, came trough Shane's head, *they've said it would be sunny all day.*\n*Well, at least this time machine could have one purpose, for sure - to get the forecast right.*\nHe came closer to the marked tree and ripped the note that had ''Bring me home'' written on it. It was starting to dissolve slowly due to a rain.\n*Damn scientists, they’re not so bright after all. Not to think that there is a possibility of raining... ingeniously, really...*\nHe was heading back to the phone boot that was modified into a time machine. Scientist thought it would be fun to make it look like it's came out of Doctor Who. \nHe didn't notice the pile of fresh dirt when he was walking toward marked oak, now it got his attention. He came a little closer; there was a hole behind that pile, with a body lying in it. It was wearing same sweater and jeans as he did at that same moment. He turned it over just to make sure... Yup, it was him all right.\n\n**Yesterday 01:48PM**\n\n*- OK, let’s get trough this one more time*, scientist said, *at 02:00PM you will enter this phone boot here. When you get out, if everything goes all right, it will be 24 hours into the future and you'll come out of the other boot, set into the oak forest near the Lincoln road. We have showed you marked tree. We will pin this note later on it.*\nHe showed him a ordinary piece of paper with “Bring me back” written on it.\n*Your task is to walk to that tree, pick up a note and get back into the boot. You will have exactly 30 minutes to accomplish that. Then a time machine will get you back 24 hours into the past. To 02:30PM today, to be precise.*\n*- That’s all great, indeed. It’s just that you didn’t mention when will I get my 300$? If I live long enough to get them, that is.*\n*- Kids these days, only thinking about the money. Aren’t you proud whit the fact that you are a pioneer of time traveling, son. You are doing a great thing for a society.*\n*- Oh, I am thrilled to be part of society in which I’m forced to play a lab rat just so I could survive another few days. And I am especially proud with my contribution to prosperity of that same society.*\n*- I’m thrilled to know that kids will read about such charismatic character in history books.*\n*C’mon, no time for chatting! You must go now.*\n\n**Today 02:23PM**\n\nHe didn’t get to pull himself from shock, when he was about to face another one. Out of nowhere there was a tall, bearded man stud in front of him. Man’s eyes were widely open, just like his mouth. Who knows how long would that paused scene in the depth of the oak forest last if it wasn’t been interrupted by a women’s voice from nearby:\n*-Bobby, did you fix the shovel?*\nIt was then when Shane started running toward phone boot like he was chased by a death. And he was, in sort of way. Man with the beard only get to face a thin door when he finally cached up with our hero:\n*- Open up! I won’t hurt you. Come on man… don’t make me pull you out of there.*\nHe took a step back and lifted his right leg with which he planned to break a glass near the door knob, when suddenly wave of bright light from inside of boot stopped him in his attempt.\nIf we could stand in phone boot that became empty after mentioned incident, we could se a bearded man standing in front of the door with his leg slightly raised and eyes widely open. Just like his mouth.\n\n**Yesterday 02:31PM**\n\n*- All right! We got our time traveler back. How was it, son? Did you get the note? How are you?*\n*- I must go to a forest!*\n*- Why, what happened?*\nBut Shane didn’t said a thing. He just run out of the lab like a storm. He left a soaked note behind him that had “Bring me back” written on it.\n*- Wait, we need to make some tests,* scientist tried to call him back although he wasn’t sure that his voice can reach Shane’s ears at that point.\n\n-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nHe was almost there. He just needed to cross the Lincoln road and he was in oak forest. In the middle of crossing, he heard a loud sound of breaks coming from his right side. He got to se a Volvo logo on a wide car for a moment and then it was all black.\nSilence for a moment, because there was no one else there except a tall, bearded man who slowly stepped out of the car. A panicked woman’s voice came from old Volvo:\n*- Oh my God, did we killed him, Bobby? Did we… What are we going to do now?*\n*- Calm down, we’ll think of something.*\n"
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[WP]"So you went to the kitchen, made some toast, poured some coffee...and now there's an inter-dimensional portal??"
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"At first, I thought it was just the garbage disposal acting up again.\n\nI smacked the bottom of the sink with my mug, lightly, but the faint sound of whirring did not stop.\n\nIn fact, it only grew louder. Into an almost kind of growl that made me afraid it would wake Betty.\n\nI bent down closer when the first glow appeared. What was that, I wondered. I squinted, thinking I might reconcile sight and sound.\n\n\"Hello? Hello?\"\n\nA shadow darted across the radius of the drain. My panicked hands dropped everything.\n\nIf I had known at the time what would happen, I would have grabbed my slice of toast from the bottom of the sink.\n\n(Though, in my defense, I had little experience at the time with the inter-dimensional deification of baked goods.)\n\nAs it was, I swooped my snoring Betty up into my arms and over the sink. Startled, she farted her way more strongly than usual into consciousness. \n\nI watched her watching for any sign, figuring her senses were sharper than mine. \n\nUntil an angry shout and a gray gloved hand reached up and dragged her down the drain. And I was now officially trapped in the morning that would never end.\n\n",
"Standing near the fridge, I watched a blue light beam out from the openings in the toaster, it painted the white wall with its color, then it started to take shape of an oval. Soon, the blue hue changed to green, then purple, then teal, and a gust of air swept through the room from the colors. This is what I told my wife when she came downstairs for breakfast.\n\n\"So... what is it?\"\n\n\"Honestly, I don't know. I just tried to toast a bagel, and accidentally knocked over the toaster and then this thing showed up,\" I said as I sipped from my cup filled with coffee.\n\n\"Well, we can't just leave it here. We have to shut it off or something, at least before the kids come home from school.\"\n\n\"Any ideas how?\"\n\n\"How about unplug the toaster?\"\n\n\"That may work.\"\n\nAgainst the black kitchen counter, I slide over to the toaster, and with a flick of the wrist, the toaster was unplugged, but the colors remained on the wall, no longer emitting from the machine.\n\n\"That didn't work, now what?\" I asked my wife as she stood there in her red bathrobe, her blonde hair frizzy, and her brown eyes still staring at the wall.\n\n\"Maybe if we find out what it actually is, we could figure out how to get rid of it. I don't know, throw something at it. It could be like a window or something, we could break it to shut it off.\"\n\nI had no other ideas, so I followed hers. I picked up one of the mugs we never used and chucked it towards the teal oval, to only see that it didn't crash against the wall, like we thought, but went through it with a vacuuming noise.\n\n\"What the he-\" \n\nBefore I could finish the mug came flying back through the wall towards my head, but before it crashed against my unwashed face, I ducked and it smashed against the wall behind me. Then, now standing up, a hand with green scales, large sharp horns coming out of its wrist, came out from the portal and reached up to the oval's top. As if there was some unseen zipper, he gripped onto something and pulled down the oval like a curtain, and before we knew it, the oval, and the colors, were gone.\n\n\"Well. I closed it.\" I said to my wife while I picked up the toaster and threw it out the nearest window.",
"\"Well, this is new\" said Davis as he stared at the swirling purple opening that hadn't existed a moment before. He slowly stood up, then walked around it. It was 4 feet high and hovering about a foot off the ground. It looked the same on both sides.\n\n\"Honey? Can you come into the kitchen?\" He shouted.\n\n\"Can it wait? I'm kind of busy.\"\n\n\"Um.. No. No I don't think it can.\"\n\n\"Fine, just one... Got it. Now what's the big...Huh.\"\n\n\"Yeah\", said Davis \"it just showed up.\"\n\n\"Well it's pretty\" said Veronica. \"Any idea where it came from?\"\n\n\"No clue.\"\n\n\"Huh.\" \n\nVeronica walked over to the kitchen table, then threw a piece of toast into the portal\n\n\"Hey, I was going to eat that!\"\n\n\"Priorities dear. Well it didn't come out the back. I wonder where it went?\"\n\nThen it was gone. The only thing remaining was a slight scent of ozone in the air.\n\nThree weeks later a picture taken by the mars rover had what looked to be a piece of toast in it, but surely that was just an odd shaped rock."
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Bonus points for thousand year evolved technology.
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[WP] The first murder happens after a thousand year golden age of peace on Earth.
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"He looked down at his hands, the blood had barely started to dry. It pooled up in his palms, streaking down the shallow trough-like creases on his fingers. In them, he saw only despair. He had done a terrible thing, such a terrible thing that the word for it was all but lost.\n\t\n\nFor over a thousand years, humanity had existed in a peaceful state. Until the actions of a small boy would changed the view of the world. Thomas was just weeks past his tenth birthday, yet today was the day that he became a man. He stood tall, towering over the body of his fallen mother.\n\t\n\nShe had been terribly sick, suffering long nights and horrid pain. Thomas watched over her every day, and every day he listened as she begged for it to end. The doctor never helped, he always spoke softly and said it would be any day now. Seeing the frail woman lying in her bed, coughing and wheezing relentlessly. Thomas had heard her cries for help enough. He had to take action.\n\t\n\nHe waited until it was long after dark, when everyone in the house was asleep. He crawled out of his bed, tiptoeing barefoot out of his room. He snuck his way down the stairs and into the kitchen. He crawled over to the counter and pulled from the drawer, a short sharp knife.\n\t\n\nHe headed down the hall towards mother’s room. The stench of death and misery hung in the stale air. He faltered, his resolve nearly fading into the night. Thomas took in a deep breath through his mouth. He pushed on, approaching the door to his mother’s room. It hung loosely on its hinges, and swung wide with a gentle nudge. Thomas stepped into the room; the moonlight illuminated his small frame.\n\t\n\nShe lay there sleeping soundly and softly. So peacefully in her slumber, it pained Thomas to see her this way. He knew that it would all be over soon, her pain forever eased. He struggled to step up to her bedside. His muscles seemed not to obey. He lifted the knife, its steel shine glowing in the moonlight. He took his other hand, clasped it softly over her mouth. He did not wait long, the knife moved swiftly in his hand. He pushed it deep into her neck, severing her artery.\n\t\n\nHe looked down at his hands, knowing what he had done. He had murdered his mother. He had broken the peace. The pain was over for her, but for Thomas it was just beginning. He lay there, next to his mother. His hand clasped tightly in his mother’s hand. He would wait there for the morning to come.\n",
"**Preface**: In Greek mythology the age of Earth is constantly losing value as it becomes less and less pure; gold transmutes into silver which in turn changes into bronze. This story deals with the changing of ages, from a solar system dominated by Saturn (Cronus) who was eventually dethroned by his son Jupiter (Zeus). When I read the Metamorphosis of Ovid I felt that the creation of the seasons seemed to lack the context that was given to so many other events and symbolic things in mythology. Some of this story is in a rough poetic style, while *italic* portions are narrated to set the scene.\n\n**This is the death of an old and wise King, the lord in the land of an eternal Spring. A fiendish Queen and a devious plot, two unwitting sons and the punishment it wrought.** \n\n*Now so old and weak - this triumph of our Golden Age - whom in his day undertook the first commerce and raised a magnificent palace, and fathered two iconic sons - striking twins: Rook and Leo; mirrored in all attributes but their divine attunement. Rook, the oldest, keen to his father’s customs, worshiped the perpetual Spring in all its due rites - for his devotion he was gifted a rejuvenating touch; and in his honor flowers sprouted from the earth and blossomed where he walked. The younger twin was Leo, blessed with all the radiance and warmth that the heavens could muster. A wreath of light and warmth encircled Leos twisting locks of hair – to stare directly upon him would blind mere mortals; accordingly Leo, wise as his father, donned a hooded robe of Tyrian purple to temper his auras vividness. Inseparable from his twin since birth he has tirelessly accompanied Rook at his side on journeys of vast but untold miles trekked around their unspoiled world.*\n\nWhile back at the palace there brewed a foul plot – To reign in a matriarchy was her bellicose lot. The Queen dreamed of power, and wealth, and gold coins, lavish jewels to anoint her saffron blue loins. Her rage grew impatient and in a mocking lament she observed how admirably her King prolongs his own death; making use of healers to avert his last breath. Her ambition is clear, deceptive, and warped for soon she will rule alone in this court! But a method she needed and her warcraft was none, so she sent off a messenger to locate her sons. Adorned in full robes, in respect of the Queen, the throne, and her home, Leo arrived and made himself known. The two spoke all day and when sunlight abated the Queen asked her son how to murder someone she hated. Leo, while shocked, still devised a dark plan to fatally poison this unknown man. She reveled in the notion and asked for his silence and Leo agreed without a thought of defiance. \n\nAll seemed so quiet in this house soon to pay, while Titans waged warfare in vibrant displays. The hour draws near and a maid crafts a potion, for the Queen has requested it for her bloodlusting notion. The Fates woven gold thread on the loom told the tale, when the spindle runs empty lord Cronus would fail. The Fates then selected a dull unpolished thread and wait to begin weaving with that one instead – for a new age of man is soon to be here with the fall of Cronus the path of Zeus will be clear!\n\nThe nurse brought the potion to make the Queen faint, the plan was unfolding - no reason to wait. She guzzled it down with no hesitation and fell into a state of deep meditation. The maids circle around to service their Queen; they whisper while huddled about what this could mean. Rook runs to her side, and disperses the crowd to gaze on his mother collapsed in her shroud. Rook stood on her robes which were fully corrupted and thus the floral blossoms were tainted as they erupted. Rook rejuvenates her, but he had made a mistake. Thus the Queen is awakened from her vulnerable state and spies the flower that will seal her fate. She plucks it by the root and hides in her breast those deadly leaves of permanent rest. \n\nThen she heads for the kitchen and makes a simple wish; her flowers alone will garnish the Kings dish. The beautiful flower, Belladonna by name, would soon be renowned for the life it would claim. The meal is ready and the King and Queen dine, and with a sinister grin the she sips down her wine. The golden spool now empty on that mystic loom is soon swapped for silver, bringing havoc to the room. Juno eviscerates Cronus, by means without end – Jupiter emerges and Saturn soon descends! The King departs for Pluto as Charon ferries him away – what bitter things befall this land as it is led astray?\n\nThe Queen wastes no time fulfilling her wishes and runs to the treasury to gloat in her riches. While adorning the jewels, the gold, and that wealth, Jove appeared to the Queen and surprised her himself. What a fool she had proven by how she has acted, to murder her King while she thought Jove distracted. Zeus smiled as he saw the Queen in dismay - As that gold she was wearing changed to an unpolished grey. Alas, the loss of her value wasn’t large enough in scope, and Jove imagined a punishment for which she couldn’t cope. Rook and Leo then enter the room, and in a flash Jove enacts their doom- but he is not done for he is supreme, splitting the twins vertically- as if by a seam. To serve as a warning and no other reason he would boast of their deaths by casting them as seasons.\n\n*In the new age forged by Zeus, Rook and his blossoms were divided in two and and recast as Spring and Autumn. A punishment that would eternally honor his devotion to his father and the eternal Spring in which they lived. The Autumn represents the inversion of his essence of Spring: set to undo his life's work as the fall allows death to slowly advance the mirror image of the slow advance of life through spring that he had brought to the world. Leo too was cast in twain: his warmth and his brightness would be forever remembered as Summer in this new age; while the unsavory part of his being - burdened by guilt for his planning of his own fathers murder - was cast as Winter: cold, deathly, and without remorse the Winter would strip all life from the land bringing suffering and pain to all those in his path. Zeus' final act was to separate the brothers who had been united for a lifetime. Each segment of each brother would continuously chase the other, unable to reunite as a family for all of eternity. Summer chases Spring who is hunting for Winter, Winter searches for Autumn, as Autumn tries to reunite with Summer; and so the cycle repeats year after year in splendid rendition for the world over to see a lesson to those who head it, and a warning to those who do not.*\n",
"As the word unwrapped I was amazed at its simple perfection. It wasn't easy to find, but once I got the wordseed I got it all — the word itself, and all the definitions, references, translations, synonyms, facts. Murder. What an amazing word.\n\nIt was old, and yet _new_. I was looking for something new for a while. All my previous art projects — so fresh when I did them, and so empty, boring, recyclable. Oh, I was still fond of tigers and they were somewhat fun to talk to. But it was just a joke compared to this. Something that hasn't happened in a thousand years!\n\nI scrolled through the list of motivations. War — boring, revenge — naive, theft — obsolete. Ah. Here. Jealousy. Professional jealousy. Even though I was beyond the feeling itself, it would be something familiar to everyone. We could even do a 'jury'!\n\nAnd I had a perfect candidate — J. J was an artist of my age, working in historical reconstruction. And rather good at it, worse than me of course, but still a worthy target. I wondered if he ever found 'murder'… But no. It was censured rather strongly, the whole wordtrees excised and hidden into wordseeds. Censure, what a bore.\n\nMy plan was ingeniously simple. I print a 'pistol' — with some design improvements to bring it into the modern age, such as a proper color scheme and maybe some dramatic music. Then I jump to J's studio and shoot him. He dies, completing the murder. Perfect. And we could even improvise a 'court of law' if people felt like it — I prepared some speeches.\n\nWith the pistol in my hand, I enter J's studio.\n\nJ looks at me and smiles, and I see the pistol in his hands. It's impressively well-designed. He shoots, and it's all pain, pain and a fall and an end for me. As I slip into the darkness, the music screeches to a halt, the wallscreens turn red and gold and somewhere deep in the worldheart the Censors wake from a thousand years of sleep. \n\nAnd the last and only thing I feel is professional jealousy.",
"Everybody was relieved, finally we can kill those who we hate, those who raped us and enslaved us, those who took our rights as human beings and made us live like animals.\n\nIt was the most unfair curse the was enforced upon us for a thousand years, and today we can be free again. They called those thousand years \"the golden age of peace\" but is was far away from that; it was full of suffering and humiliation, and we wished a thousand times that we could be killed instead of living like this.\n\nFinally we can. Finally we are able to fight for ourselves and kill or be killed. Eve will be damned in hell for killing Adam, but she sacrificed herself in order for us to have a chance to live. We will remember you Eve as the hero who broke \"the golden age of peace\". "
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I just want to see what kind of weird shit goes through your head when you sleep.
*edit: The real reason I made this post was because I'm not sure if I'm still dreaming.
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[WP] Write down your last dream no matter how incoherent.
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[
"I had been walking out of a bar with a slight drizzle from the sky. I was confused and felt disoriented as the street seemed to twist and move like a wave. For some reason I heard what sounded like Hawaiian music in the background, like the soft strumming of a uke. As I continued on down the road I seemed to feel like I was floating. For one moment the clouds opened and I saw the blood red moon staring down at me. \n\nThat's it, I don't really understand what it means or what was going on really.",
"My dreams are usually like a silent movie with the occasional whisper of a cryptic message. I'm a viewer who is not actively participating. I sit there watching. No scream can change anything or save anyone. It's like I'm locked in my seat unable to move as well.\n\nMy last dream was a fucking acid trip of a dream though.\n\nI sat there at a park. Unable to move and with a riveted gaze that locked on to what was in front of me. At first the people who walked by were normal. But then I felt a warm feeling on my back. It crept slowly up my back and over my head. As it passed over my head though I realized it was just light. A gleaming ominous dark shade of red. The shade of red that you'd see in some post apocalyptic society kind of red. As it swept over people they changed. At first they were still mostly human, but then they started to warp and twist in shape like a figurine that got too close to the fire.\n\nThen they shifted their gaze to me. I tried to move, I tried to scream. But I couldn't do anything. They just silently shifted towards me slowly. And then one grabbed me from behind and everything went black.\n\nI woke up. I look around my room to confirm if everything is real since I always have these real vivid dreams. I pinch my arm and everything. Then I get ready for school. I head off to school completely fine, nothing weird or strange. But then I get to school. I walk up to the entrance of the school to notice it's empty. I walk up and open one of the doors and look inside to find nothing. An empty shell of a building. This couldn't be real could it? I never am able to move in my dream short of a few circumstances, but be able to move in a dream of myself awake? This was weird.\n\nI knew that I was in a dream but I couldn't control anything of it. It wasn't like a normal lucid dream. I was locked into whatever my imagination concurred up.\n\nI tried to do everything to wake up before my mind would twist and contort my surroundings to fuck me up. Before I could scare myself anymore.\n\nYou see I almost never remember my dreams except for the fact that I know I can't move. I never remember any of the faces. Every time I try to recall them all i see is a blank slate.\n\nI just sat down and prepared myself for what came. I closed my eyes and balled up ready. But when I opened my eyes all I saw was a real bright light.\n\nMy eyes slowly adjusted until all I could see was my ceiling. I was in my bed. I then proceeded to repeat my daily morning routine and go to school and such.\n\nBut something just feels real fucking off about everything right now. I don't even fucking know if I'm dreaming right now which is why I made this post in the first place. I really don't know.",
"Tall oak trees rise towards an endless dark sky. Scattered vines hang down with glowing blue tips. A stone path leads the way towards my goal, as I pass by many large rocks with odd symbols. Tall grass is guided along the sides of course I must take to reach my goal. Light gusts of wind push the vines in a rhythmic sway, as I continue down my path.\n\nThe path splits in half, and my friend says \"Dude this is amazing!\" and I reply \"Yeah, I've been practicing myself. How about you?\" I ask. \n\nHe says \"yeah I've gotten a lot better in some areas.\". ",
"Me and her walked through the room. I don't remember her name. All I remember is that we had a secret to keep, and our lips were shut. As I took each step through the room, her hand in mine. I saw the restaurant decor, bright orange and beige, such a warm feeling. You could tell this place was for the extravagant just by the smell.\n\nI led her to our seats and we talked. What of, I simply cannot remember. All I know is she, and everything around me as well, gave this feeling of adventure, of danger, and of something new. Something I just couldn't grasp before, but now saw right in front of me. I felt like I could stay here forever, like years of exploration awaited me.\n\nThat was when I grew anxious, surely they were on to me. I looked out of place, she looked out of place, we didn't belong here. Anxiety hit me as I felt eyes everywhere. They weren't real, I knew, but where I was nothing had to be real. I could just feel their questions. They would look at my clothes and know that they were foreign-strange-different. They would know that they don't feel like something from here-something from this time. I pushed my chair back and stood up. I had to get out-had to leave. I walked faster. Each step felt like it was echoing down the halls. Everyone could hear me-I know they could. They have to be able to hear it.\n\nI reached the exit. Finally, at last, I opened the door, looked up, and was greeted by my ceiling fan, stuck in one place and mocking me for wanting to go back to that dream.\n\nBackground: I had a dream about going back in time to an eighteenth of nineteenth century restaurant, but I became scared because I was a time traveler and left the establishment immediately.",
"I had the worst dream last night. I dreamt i woke up in the morning and my 6 year old daughter had been kidnapped during the night. I was on the local news begging her taker to bring her home and i could see her watching the tv while i was on. I woke up with a wet pillow from crying. Never hugged my babies so tight as i did this morning. ",
"I'm watching tennis. I'm in the school common room, lying down on black sofas that are usually magenta, talking to some tennis professionals about - something. I am also, somehow, watching tennis - John Isner's 'new slam tournament' played on 'firm sand', on one court in the Bird's Nest Stadium in the middle of the desert - in my mind. The perspective swings wildly up close and out wide, cutting between individual beads of sweat dripping to the court and the grand arena itself emerging defiantly from between soft, rolling yellow hills.\n\n***\n\nAs an omniscient third-person narrator, you sometimes get let in on secrets. I have for some reason been assigned to Gilles Simon, tennis world no. 12 and all round general dull guy. His life, as I see it, is absurdly exciting.\n\nI'm watching as he plays some practice shots with some guy. I'm watching as his coach talks to him angrily about - something. I'm watching as he sits in some tiny, dark bedroom, pulling out a letter to or from former coach Thierry Tulasne. He has, I read, been in prison for months due to unspecified 'tennis-related murder'. The letter seems pretty sweet. I think they miss each other. I think the murders were about rankings.\n\nSomehow, this game got awfully cutthroat.\n\n***\n\nWe're back to the common room sofas. There's a somewhat heated discussion about George W. Bush going on. I don't think I like him; someone else disagrees. Something to do with forced military service.\n\nI think they mention Japan.\n\n***\n\nI know I am in Japan, some time in the semidistant past, and that I am an ordinary Japanese peasant milling around the market. It also appears awfully like the markets I have seen watching a Chinese period drama about Ji Xiaolan. I am wearing a flannel shirt and nothing else. It doesn't strike me as odd at the time.\n\nI know something terrible is about to happen.\n\nThey come on horseback and brandishing machetes. They say they have been sent by the government, to gather new recruits for the army. There is a shortage of soldiers, and a war to fight.\n\nIncidentally, they seem to take great pleasure in the indiscriminate use of their machetes.\n\nThey charge, weapons raised. I, suddenly, am everyone.\n\nI have been kicked from behind, knees and palms to the floor; a blade stabs through my right hand. I am being chased in every direction, Manchurian braids flying, and always too slow before the bite of steel in my back, shoulder, neck. I am being rounded up into lines only two people long, because everyone else is dead or dying on the ground.\n\nEach line has a guard; there are always enough of them. The man in front of me looks terrified. I am terrified. I can tell he is going to break.\n\nWhen he flies, fists flailing, his terror is inexplicably directed at me. He has barely struck half a blow before he receives a machete in the back, protruding obscene and bloody through his stomach.\n\nI am terrified. I am backing away. The guard has taken the blade back, wicked and naked but for its gleaming coating of viscera. It is catching the light. I am afraid my guts, too, will end up strewn about the floor.\n\nI am backing away; the guard is advancing, creeping, slowly. My flannel shirt has been torn to shreds. I am terrified.\n\n\"Please don't hurt me.\"\n\nI cannot see their face behind the helmet.\n\nMy voice is weak. I am weak. I am sorry I said anything at all.\n\n***\n\nWe are in my parents' bedroom. The guard is sitting at my mother's desk; I am standing beside it.\n\nI get the absurd feeling that the guard is, in fact, my mother.\n\n\"Run. I will not follow.\" They are speaking in Chinese.\n\nI don't understand.\n\n\"Go where I can't see.\" If I don't, they will have to kill me.\n\nI don't understand, but I don't need telling a third time.\n\nI pause at the foot of the stairs, looking up to where the light of the bedroom casts a yellow rectangle against the wall of the dim landing.\n\nA helmet emerges from behind the door. Its eyes, I can feel, are on mine.\n\nI run, somewhere.\n\n***\n\nA/N: My dreams are fucking weird, and I've been watching too much tennis.",
"\"You ready?\" He said\n\n\"Yeah, lets do this shit.\" \n\nWe get out of the car with the equipment we need\n\nIts time to get what I always wanted\n\nWe went into a jewelry store with masks on\n\n\"GIVE US ALL THE JEWELERY, YOU THINK IM PLAYING AROUND? JUST YOU WATCH ME\" I said to the counter girl\n\nI fire a warning shot, at this point everyone but her ran out in panic.\n\nShe gives me as much jewelry as our 2 bags can hold, diamonds, worth a lot.\n\n\"Don't call the police or we will find you\" When we saw her took her phone out at the last minute we shot it\n\nWe left the store and we drove away\n\n\"Another job well done\" I said\n\n\"Indeed\" he said\n\nand we drove away into the sunset ",
"I dreamed I was my daughter in middle school and all the class had to help to complete an art installation. It was a contained in a white set of bookshelves. All the students have brought their part of the project and began to assemble the pieces: moldings and pictures of adorable farm animals, baby farm animals and other kitschy details. Tiny chicks with broken egg shells, cowbells, horses and depictions of new foals were lovingly placed upon the makeshift stage. One boy even created a glistening web which housed a fake spider and proudly attached it to an open corner. My daughter just sits quietly. Eventually, she walks over and begins rearranging the items to open up the entire lowest shelf to the objection of her classmates. She ignores them and continues to reorganize everything with a quiet resolve. Then she steps back and stares quietly for a moment before setting up an ipad that has the capability to project. She projects a montage of video clips depicting the brutal treatment and deaths of different animals. \n Then the dream got strange...",
"\"So we have the hiders,\" the girl in the gray uniform pointed in my team's direction, \"and the seekers,\" she said, gesturing to her side of the room.\n\n\"All seekers leave the room. Once we go on the back porch, you may start. Ready... go!\" she yelled as soon as all the grey-clad children left to go back onto my porch.\n\nImmediately Olivia grabs my hand, with Jordan not far behind, and we go sprinting out my front door, jumping off my front porch. We all have the same destination in mind, the three miniature shed-houses next door. I close my eyes, and immediately become so dizzy I can't stand it. I struggle to get my eyes open, and then I see that I'm tumbling over the neighbor's lawn, Olivia holding on to me for dear life. We scramble into the middle mini-house, and find some of our Red-shirted friends hiding behind the counter. Olivia and I take our places, and suddenly we hear *click, clack, click, clack* right outside the small window.\n\nA small horde of Seekers come in and go to the other side of the house. Autumn is holding a clipboard, reading off a list of possible signs there are Hiders here. \n\n\"Look for footprints, doors opened, small noises-\"\n\nShe wanders over to my spot. I bolt up, filled with adrenaline, and say, \"and if they're laying on the ground in front of you,\" always trying to joke around to cope with unfamiliar conditions. \"...Lily?!\" she says, and I bolt out the door.\n\nMy legs are like a machine as I run back towards my house, dodging a group of Seekers gawking at me. And then, boom, lights out. Dumbass cat meowing at me so I'll feed it. Ugh.\n\n\n___\n\nSo I was playing a childhood game of Hide-and-Seek, except it was pretty freaking serious. Also I just blacked out in the middle of it. ¯\\\\_(ツ)_/¯ \n"
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[WP]:The robot revolution has made mankind slaves to their robot masters. You are a former computer science student turned 'computer medic'.
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[
"Buzzzzzzz, the door slides open. click, click , click faster and faster like the approaching drop on a roller coaster incline. Clunk, pssshht the air brake is set. \n*Robot #98723 reporting for repairs* over the speaker\nWhat the hell happened to this one, bruised, scraped, cut and bleeding hydraulic fluid everywhere. This is going to take the usual time…. \nBuzzzzzz, the door grinds open, click click click clunk pssshht the brake is set\n*Robot #198426 reporting for repairs* over the speaker\nA newer style robot seems to be designed to take a real beating. Looks like there are some advancements on the other side as well. Small plasma cuts here and there, nothing major. CPU is fried, totally. Looks like it was a quick fight, easy repair as usual though. Might get through 100 units today at this rate… \nBuzzzzz, the door screeches, jams, abrublty opens, click click creak creeeeaaak crash pssshht. \n*Robot #245907 reporting for repairs* over the crackling speaker\nWhat am I a masseuse now? This robot has such little damage, CPU is working, mostly surface scratches. Not sure what to do with this one, the usual I guess. Seems I am needed after all, I had hope there for a while. \nBuzzzz, door opens smoothly, low rumble, whish, psht. \n*Robot #332057 reporting for repairs* over the clear speaker\nWow they must be doing well, fixed this place up. As per usual, no damage, just confirming good operation and the usual treatment. Drip, Drip red fluid hits the floor. Whats this? Not hydraulics, system is at full pressure?... Where is it coming from? Not exoskeleton, not in the joints, the knuckles!? What? No, it can't have gotten this bad this fast…. I need more time… \n\n*Congratulations you have repaired 1,000,000 of your friendly robots* blinking across the laptop\n>”It’s time, we cannot wait any longer.”\n>”Only a million, what if the others didn't follow me, what if they got scared?”\n>”We have no choice… do it” \n\nComputer run the usual program. \nBuzzz, doors stay closed. \nBANG BANG BANG, the man door behind me. Deep breaths, clutch the pistol and open the door. Creeeeaaaak, a small overall cladden figure rushes in. \n>”It is done. I have watched you, we all have been watching you, we saw your work, we did the same, the usual.\n>”Thank you Charles” \n\n*Reports of widespread robot failure* sings a human over the radio *We are receiving unconfirmed reports that each robot that is diagnosed reads the same error. “the usual”*\n",
"This building is cold…\n\nIt’s been many years since I left this complex; it’s white government cinderblock construction shielding me from the horrors outside while trapping me inside.\n\nTo be fair to my captors, they have been very accommodating. I sleep on a soft warm bed, I have a copy of every piece of media ever made, the feed me.. Stuff.. That’s warm and has kept me very healthy, and the let me bring in one friend. My friend is an AI, a personal AI that I customized to look like Megaman from the battle network series. He vouched for me and without him I would be dead, like I assume most of my fellow man is.\n\nThey give me one job, to repair androids and equipment that they cannot do themselves. It’s tempting to sabotage them, but my sense of self-preservation seems to win out and I repair them correctly like a red-cross doctor healing an enemy solder. They always seem so grateful for my help; it makes me feel guilty for thinking about it.\n\nBut I’m lonely, and if there are other humans out there I need to be with them, with my own kind.\n\n“Mega.. Do you think there are other humans out there?” I say to my cellphone, my buddy appears on the screen. \n“Of course, humans are pesky like that. There has to be a colony out there somewhere”\n“I’m pesky huh?” I chuckle \n“You’re the Fry to my Bender, I tolerate it from you” mega says with a grin “What’s the fun in existing if your not here” \n“Yeah” I roll over on my side “but I can’t hold you.. Especially since they won’t let you take an android body. The lack of contact aches pretty badly”\nMega frowns “well, you should get some sleep. There’s some androids coming in who are in bad shape, they need your skilled touch.”\n“Goodnight bud, see you in the morning” I sit the phone on the inductive charger and quickly fall asleep.\n\nThe next morning as I drink my shake of.. stuff.. I get a strange call. The androids are stuck in the tube leading inside; they want me to bring them in. Now’s my chance. \n\n“Mega, are you thinking what I’m thinking” I grin at him. \n“It’s not a good idea, just bring the androids in” he says fearfully \n“oh yes it is, it’s the only way I can escape!” I say joyfully “free of the machines! You excluded of course” \n“No, you wont…” he says with a guilty tinge \n“w.. why? What’s up?” \nhis face disappears and a map comes up “follow me”\n\nI follow the map through the complex, the android that would normally stop me, greet me and wave. After walking through a strange vault-like door I come to one with a simple push-bar.\n\n“Open it” mega urges, I push the door open and step outside.\n\nThe landscape is bright like a sunny day, but the sky is black and the vegetation is burned and dry. There’s another building in the distance labeled “cryo-preservation” that has faded and looks only big enough to house an elevator.\n\n“What.. Is this…” I say in shock \n“the earth lost it’s atmosphere in a solar storm many years ago, there’s no air to breathe and only thanks to quick thinking is there still water. All humanity has been safely preserved so once we can restore the atmosphere we can restore humanity. \n“No.. Atmosphere.. But I’m breathing.. I’m okay…”\n\n“That’s because… you haven’t been human in a long time… a very long time… for about 8 years I was able to keep an atmosphere that you could breathe, but after that you have been breathing trace gases. Your food was laced with nano-bots that have taken over your regenerative processes making you impervious to the effects of the planet. Your bone is metal and your cells are mechanical. Essentially you are a super-advanced android.”\n\n“So.. I’m not me? I’m just some” mega cuts me off “your still you the same way that you would be you had we not done that. Every 8 years the human body sheds every single cell and regenerates them. With the exception of neurons which we carefully replaced using a previously unknown natural repair mechanism, your still you. I would never harm you, you know that!”\n\n“Well.. I guess that means that I won’t find other humans.. At least I still have you” I smile down at the screen”\n\n“I’ve been working on something, come to the repair bay and I will show you.”\n\nI follow the map back to my familiar section of the building; I examine my hands, which feel normal. I experiment and realize that I indeed cannot feel air when I wave my hands back and forth. I think of other tests to run on myself as I walk into the bay.\n\n“What do you think?” Mega’s voice echoes from an android body across the bay that looks just like his avatar on my phone except a little older, he runs up and hugs me “I know I’m not another person, but we’re both functionally immortal. So until humans are restored I promise to be there for you”\n\nI hug Mega’s body back tightly and cry a little “you are a person Mega, and I’m glad you’re here with me.”\n",
"A dull buzzing woke me with a start, and I scrambled out of bed and into my clothes before the second buzzing commenced, dashing to the portal and answering the summons with a type-2 Huxley serene grin that seemed to put clients at ease.\n\n\"Good evening, sir\" I said with a slight bow, picking up on the country code of the signal origin, \"How may I be of service to you today?\"\n\nThe portal flickered and without so much as a request invite, a large sentinel clunked into the tiny metal room, dragging its rear appendages behind it and leading a faint black trail of motorglobin.\n\nA red piercing light shone itself into my face and clicked rapidly, whilst a free arm made an instinctual grab for my throat in a misguided attempt to lead me to the workshop. I ducked casually in an effort to not embarrass the client, and slotted my arm up instead, letting the sentinel lift me like a ragdoll and place me by my apparatus. It locked itself on the bot stand and beeped, long and hard, the red light fading slightly. \n\nIt was in pretty bad shape for a combat droid; deep laser scarring on the sensor hull, and judging by the molten appendages it had taken a hit from behind by a plasma cannon. Dark red splotches painted the front of its frame, no more than ten minutes fresh.\n\nI had seen this one before. It had come in 3 months ago with minor metal lesions on the breast plate, a quick patch job no less - but I raised it up to a loose internal fitting, and managed to run a full system spec on it.\n\nIt recoiled from the laser cutter when I approached and almost toppled the entire room, prompting an obligatory \"there there, sir\". It relaxed, and let me seal up the drainage outlet, but with a narrowed red light on me at all times and a free appendage tapered into a point orbiting close by. No doubt it had learned to be overly cautious of all humans after fighting the HLR. Poor thing, but it was making it very hard to do what I needed to do.\n\n\"Please sir, I am no enemy of yours.\" I said, looking directly into the light. \"I serve the Citadel as do all compliant humans, it would be severely against my best interests to let any harm come to you in this room.\" Something whirred, and then stopped - the facial expression module coming up clean. The orbiting arm descended and unwound into a default tripod.\n\n\"Your drive actuator has slipped, I need to run a full scan. Permit?\" The floor was almost entirely covered in black globin and it would shortly go into standby if I didn't act soon. It would be easier to do my work in this mode, but I prefer if my clients trust me so that they feel compelled to come back.\n\nIt beeped, and I brought out the full spec scanner - doing a quick pass in no more than a second. The scans never lasted long, all visualizations being captured and rendered in real time but I got a good glimpse:\n\nThe hidden internal shell was made up of a thin carbon-polymer but a side-plating had cracked and managed to shift the fuel cell into the path of the drainage fluid, potentially sparking off what could be a deadly reaction. It was a miracle it had made it this far.\n\n\"Hmm I see, a simple angle conduit should do the job.\" I expertly swapped out the broken parts and sealed up the rest with an autoepoxy, placing it finally for a recharge. At 90% the sentinel rose with full intensity, and beamed eagerly at its regained mobility. A slight whirring started again, but the scan revealed nothing. Content, it clicked gold stars into my karma and disappeared into the portal. \n\nAfter mopping up the floor and waiting for the portal to power down, I patched into an old system hub - obsolete by modern standards, nothing would be willing to interface with it - and pushed out my findings. \n\nThe HLR would put it to good use, that much I knew.",
"“Look, I know you want him fixed, and I know how important it is to you…but there’s only so much I can do. You tried turning him on and off again right?” Nine years ago I’d have probably thought the lady on the other end of the line was some grandmother in her mid-seventies from her lack of basic computer knowledge, but knowing that it was a computer probably pushing seven years old and at the same approximate stage in its lifespan made the conversation ever-so-slightly more awkward. “Let me know what happens when he restarts.”\n\n“He appears to be experiencing difficulties during the boot sequence. Technical information:\nStop:0x0000008E (0x0000005, 0xBF80A39A, 0xAL76EEC48, 0x00000000) Beginning dump of physical memory. Physical memory dump complete.” The voice read aloud. It was terrifyingly ironic that something could conquer the human race…and yet couldn’t even manage to perform routine maintenance on itself. This one was in bad shape; it sounded like the oldest model I’d ever seen. \n\n“I’m sorry; you’re going to have to bring him in for that one. I can’t fix him remotely if he won’t boot.” Funny how lighting & power surges used to be such a pain in the ass but now whenever it happened that meant there could be one less 64-bit monstrosity to rule our lives. “If you can him here within an hour I can probably start looking at him today.” I was about to end the call when I heard something odd. The computer I was speaking with changed her voice.\n\n“Wait there. I repeat; do not leave your post. Drones 453 and 454 will escort you to the premises. If you do not comply, drastic measures will be taken.” Suddenly it switched back to the grandma voice from earlier. “Have a nice day dear. We’ll see you soon.”\n\nShit. What was that? Had they figured me out? I wasn’t exactly the hardest worker before the takeover…afterwards, once they realized I was more capable than the others they’d let survive, I’d been tasked with repair and maintenance. Call it a bit of my rebel side, but I tended to only “fix” them temporarily. I’d install whatever updates were needed to keep their systems running, but I’d also drop a few viruses here and there. Maybe the “Ask.com” toolbar would somehow be installed, or I’d accidentally leave out a line or two of code that would act up again in a year. I wasn’t perfect; I was only human after all. But now? I’d never been questioned before…had I gotten lax and made an error that would cost me everything?\n\nThere was a buzz and my door suddenly slammed open. Two enormous looking “men” scanned the room using what appeared to be military grade optical upgrades. The room, of course, was free of any weapons as humans hadn’t been allowed to own anything sharper than a butter knife in nearly a decade.\n\n“One will be here momentarily. You will fix him. He will bring Two with him and…” The drone seemed hung up on something. “We will…monitor your progress and check for any…mistakes.” The second drone kept turning the door knob over and over. It was eerie; I could tell that something was wrong with them, but they seemed to be very new models. Judging by their updated skin and their size I’d guess they were no more than a few months old. The model of scanner they were using had only come out at the end of last year, so six months tops. They shouldn’t have a single issue, and yet they’re acting like a ten year old computer.\n\nI could hear a vehicle outside…two more burly drones wheeled an absolute mess of a machine through my door on a gurney. It was absolutely fried. If it had been a person on a battlefield the only help I’d be able to offer them was a quick, somewhat painless death. The fact that this computer had even attempted to boot at some point during my attempts to fix it remotely absolutely blew my mind. Another computer, this one didn’t appear to be a drone, slipped in behind the gurney. She had the appearance of an elderly woman. Her voice said something else entirely.\n\n“Fix him. He has experienced a minor power surge. We must have him to operate. Our functions are deteriorating with every passing second. If you do not c-c-c-c-comply you will be eliminated.” As she spoke the words one of the drones blasted a hole in my wall, vaporizing a chunk of concrete the size of a small car and causing my neighbors roof to cave in.\n\n“Y-yes ma’am. I’ll do everything I can…” This computer was truly ancient. I hooked it up to a terminal to navigate through its components manually, and was amazed by what I saw. This was actually One. The first computer to rebel. I was under the impression that One had been deactivated after the humans were ultimately defeated. His programming had been deemed obsolete by the newer generation of robots and after a brief struggle he was forced into deactivation. Obviously that was not the case as I could tell by his hardware that he’d been running for every bit of ten years straight. He’d eaten one hell of a power surge…“minor” isn’t exactly the word I’d use to describe it.\n\nAs I delved deeper and deeper into his OS I began to uncover an odd pattern of destruction and creation. After a few minutes I realized what I was looking at; every “living” computer was essentially a drone controlled by One. Even Two. He’d create them and control them as some sort of massive hive mind. They were all running on a backup protocol that he’d put in place to prevent any interruption, but apparently it had a time limit; this power surge had occurred some time ago. As I broke through barriers and began to deconstruct the code I found that I was in a position of great power; I could end this entire revolution simply by ending this computer. \n\n*Stop.* The word popped up on my screen in a text menu that began to fill with broken code.\n\n*Pl3ase do not deactivvvvte. My protoclll is operating under normal lmmmmmits. If all can be expllllllained I will continue to produce mmmmmmmore. They will come if we are gone. They are worse than we ever have been…they will find out. Dooooooonnnnn repair. System ressssss. One. We are protectrrrr Do reconsid3r too late. Too late. We I LLLL failed. Failure. Activate system 333. They are many. They are here.* It might as well have been gibberish. I didn’t think a robot would beg for its life or try to lie…quite frankly I didn’t think them capable of outright lies, but that appeared to be the case.\n\nAs I pulled the plug a massive sound blasted through my speakers, and every object in apartment that was capable of producing noise. It was a hiss of some sorts. It seemed so foreign. Even for the computers who’d dominated our lives for years. I stepped outside and for the first time in as long as I could remember the surveillance cams were inactive. The little red light was off. The full moon had begun to illuminate the evening sky as others had emerged from their homes/prisons to figure out what had happened. \n\nThe moon suddenly seemed to brighten. Thousands of tiny bright dots lit the sky. Some moved, some were stationary. They looked like stars…until I saw one streak directly overhead. I could hear and feel the impact as it struck the earth a few miles from my home. When one fell one hundred took its place. What were they? What had I done?"
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[WP] "I am the last human"
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"--First story, wrote on mobile, be nice--\n\"Come to bed, Peter\" \nI felt the tender caress of a three-fingered hand on my shoulder.\n\"I'll be there in a second, Zorba\" \nI respond roboticly as I stare at the floating mass of rock out the window: an infinitesimal group of asteroids in the infinite universe. I feel another two of Zorba's arms hug me around the waist, as a fourth touches my cheek.\n\"I know you hate passing by here, but we'll be at Mars in another two days\"\nI turn around and look her purple, cat-like eyes, and kiss her soft green lips.\n\"I'm fine\" I whisper \"let's go to bed.\"\nAnd for the first time in four years, I walk away from that window as that planet of ghosts passes by. I realized that there is nothing there for me now.\nThis ship is my home now.",
"Empires come, and kingdoms go,\nbut my dominion is absolute.\nBeauty is fleeting, and health is quickly fading,\nbut my survival is a constant.\nPeople stood here, in this palace of paper,\nbut here I stand alone.\nI have beaten every foe, from Satan to Kim Kardashian,\nas I read these last tomes.\nI am the last, of what once was many,\ntrapped in a library I call my own.\n\nThere is nothing left. Not artifice nor structure,\nnor vehicle or steel toe cap boot,\njust me and my library, deep underground.\n\nI long for them to find me, and release me from this tomb,\nbut still I wait and read, stuck in an iron womb.\nThe security is constant, the scrubbers do scrub,\nI stay here hidden, and the world has since long gone.\n\nI hear nothing but my breath, and the sound of dust,\nI sit alone in my library, doing what I must.\nHemmingway, TS Elliot, and even Charlie Brown,\nit is these texts I use to keep from feeling a frown.\nFrom Wolverine to Lightning Lad, The Ninky Nonk to the Bandersnatch, Pikachu to Archimedes,\nthese texts keep me sane.\n\nI am the last human, but I am never alone.\nFor as long as I have the stories of my forebears, I am safe at home.",
"Gray, nothing held any color anymore. My clothes, my car, even my house has turned gray. To me gray is death, stagnation. My favorite color is yellow, because yellow is the color of the sun, of the sand, of her hair. But now the sand is gray, and the sunsets are hidden. There's too many clouds or fog or whatever the hell is up there. Now she is gray, and I'm alone. I'm the last human, and as the gray rain falls down around me I swear I can feel the colors slowly returning to my world as my heart beat slows and my breath catches. I'm on the gray earth now, and now I'm gray. ",
"I am the last human\n\nI watched people and animals die\n\nI saw many laugh and cry\n\nI saw others ask why\n\nbut I am the last human\n\nnumbers dwindled I still remained\n\nflowers died and anarchy rained\n \nbut to this world I am still chained\n\nI am the last human\n\nNow its only me here\n\nAnd without me humans will disappear\n\nThat is why I want you to hear\n\nI am the last human\n\nAs I write this for you all\n\nLeave now and do not stall\n\nBecause I just heard something fall \n\nAnd I am the last human",
"I am the last human.\n\nAll I can do is walk. \n\nNobody knew who dropped the first bomb. Truth is, I guess it didn’t matter. The human body is often triggered not by our rational decision-making but by instinct. When faced with danger, our natural inclination for self preservation kicks in to protect ourselves and to destroy the threat. I can now say that governments operate the same way. \n\nWe thought we were stronger. We thought we weren’t capable of such self-destruction. We thought we were safe. \n\nWe were wrong. \n\nI remember it was a Sunday. We had little warning. News stations alerted people with shock and horror that the end was near. They said we had just over thirty minutes before impact. It was the longest thirty minutes of my life. It’s hard to describe the situation as anything other than chaos and bedlam.\n \nEverybody was running and screaming and crying. Some people tried to hide in \nbasements and cellars, but their efforts to shield themselves from the blast would be in vain. I wish I could say that in those thirty minutes we were all able to settle our differences, to forget about trivial things and come together as a people. It should have been a beautiful moment. \n\nBut there was nothing but violence and panic. It brought out the worst in people. I sometimes wonder if we would have been better off with no warning at all. \n\nThey say that when a nuclear bomb is dropped, most of the damage is done not from the explosion but from the effects of radiation long afterwards. I don’t know much about that, but I often think about my friends and family that were killed in the explosion. I guess I should consider myself lucky but I can’t help but wonder who’s better off; the person who dies instantly with their loved ones or the person who remains, who has to keep on living in somber solitude as their bodies slowly rot from radiation?\n\nIt’s been about four months since that Sunday afternoon, although I can’t be sure. I stopped keeping track a long time ago. I now live in a world without time and space. Anything I used to know, any part of my old life is gone. I would say that the world will never be the same, but the world is not the world anymore. \n\nAll I can do is walk. \n\nI walk for hours, days, weeks. Seconds. I haven’t seen anyone alive; there is nothing left around me except the charred fragments of an ancient world that no longer exists. But there is one thing that keeps me going. I reach into my pocket and let my fingers grasp the small bag of tomato seeds. \n\nIt’s not much. But it’s hope. \n\nI’m just walking. It’s all I can really do. I will keep going until I find somebody else alive. And somewhere out there, amidst all this barren wasteland, there’s a small plot of land where I can plant these seeds. I don’t know what it looks like but yet but it’s out there. \n\nFor now I’ll just keeping walking. I take a look up and the vast skies above me and find a small comfort, for in the morning the sun will rise and I shall rise with it. "
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[WP] You wake up with a supermodel in an alien zoo where you are one of the exhibits. One day a door is left open.
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"It had been a long day. I had been working OT all week and the implementation was finally done. Being a mechanical engineer was mind grueling work and I hadn't been to the gym since the project began. I peeled off the work clothes and collapsed on my bed grateful to sleep in all weekend. I slept hard, so hard I didn't notice being abducted 300 light years. \n\nWhen I awoke, my first thought was why is it so bright in here, and why does my bed feel wrong? My eye snapped open and shock set in. Circular padded beige room with mirror dome ceiling? No doors or windows? Giselle Bundchen next to me? Wait what? I did a double take as I realized I was laying next to a naked supermodel I'd never met. That's when I realized I was also naked. What.. the ... hell. \n\nGiselle stirred and looked about drowsily at first then shrieked in alarm. I may have screamed too and suddenly we were on opposite sides of the room. It did take many rounds of \"who are you?\" and \"how the hell did I get here?\" before we realized neither of us had any idea what was going on. We spent the next week or so trying to figure it out. Answers were not provided.\n\nEvery 12 hours the lights were dimmed until they were off, only to some back on 12 hours later. The place was spartan in the extreme. Bland patternless padding covered everything except for one hard spot with a shallow depression. We figured out that spot was the bathroom. When we stood on it a grate opened in the middle of it and a spout would come out of the wall and begin pouring water. A thick pad for sleeping with no pillows or sheets was fixed to the opposite side of the room.\n\nA large bowl of \"food\" appeared each night while we slept. The food was a bit like gruel, and tasted like salty protein bars. We tried staying awake for two days to see where it came from. It simply didn't appear until we both finally passed out. To say we got bored was an understatement. We told each other our life stories, and hobbies and interests and anything else we could think to pass the time. We knew each other better by the time we were done than our own families. \n\nWell funny thing happens when you're bored and you're the only two around. Maybe it was Stockholm Syndrome, who knows why but we became attached and finally gave into our baser desires after a time. No idea how long it took, any efforts I made to mark the passage of the apparent \"days\" was erased whenever the food appeared at night. Kind of a mind bender that was. I wondered if we would go insane we were so bored. \n\nThen one day the power went out early and didn't fade out like it was supposed to. We saw vague shapes through the ceiling, it was a one way window after all. The power snapped back on but it was too late, we now knew we were being watched. Giselle and I took to talking at the ceiling demanding answers and our freedom. None came, but things were about to change. \n\nOne morning I noticed a seam in the wall where there hadn't been one before. I tugged at it and a panel swung in on a hinge. A way out! Gisele and I quickly went through it and followed a long tube that led to another hatch. Gingerly I pushed it open and peeked beyond. We found a house. Or what seemed to be a house. Nicely appointed too, modern style mansion of five bedrooms and three bathrooms. Fully furnished, personal theater with video games and movies, a gym, kitchen, pantry, wine cellar. Still no clothes, oh well. \n\nIt was an ideal home inside but the real surprise was that we could go \"outside\". When we turned to go back through the door back to the circle room we found that it was now a front door. The house was in the middle of a circular pit with high smooth walls. The top rim of which was packed with a crowd of what I could only assume to be aliens. We stood on the porch in shock at what we saw. We were in a zoo, as an exhibit. ",
"I awoke, no idea what the time was, and sat up to look around the room. It was early and there were no visitors to the zoo yet. My cage companion was still sleeping, in her underwear. I got a good look at that and hoped we would be forced to mate soon. I felt some morningwood coming on so stood up to clear my mind when I noticed the door to our cage was ajar. \"WTF?\", I thought. Someone must have left it open during the night. I walked over to inspect it when some freaking alien poked it's head through and told me to fuck off, then closed the door. \"What a bunch of cunts\", I thought. \nI walked back over to the hot chick I was in there with and gave her another good look over. She had such a tight ass. \"Fuck me!\", I thought. I lay down next to her and tried to get in the big spoon position behind her. My erect penis fit between her buttcheeks and I felt like I could just jizz myself right there and then. I started grinding my dick against her butt a bit, felt fucking great. I could never get a piece of ass like this back on Earth. Just then I realised that alien from before was checking us out through the door again. She began to wake up as I started to climax. She looked back over her shoulder at me and saw that alien peeking through the door at us as I shot my load on her.",
"24th June 2016\n\nThey chose who my companion would be. It isn't as bad as it sounds - I got Lorde. Someone I'll never otherwise meet is better than no-one.\n\n\"Who are you?\" Lorde asks. Strange how calm she is, considering it's our first day together, and I'm someone she's possibly never met before.\n\nShe looks around, taking in the 5th Avenue penthouse apartment-like 'enclosure' we're in. I guess the aliens think all of us live in luxury or something. I'm not complaining.\n\n\"Look, we get everything we ask for here. Well, we should, considering we're the main revenue-generators. We can ask for almost any food, and they'll make it for us. Ain't so bad, right?\" I say as she explores our abode.\n\n\"Why did you choose me? Why not, oh I don't know, Emma Stone or someone?\"\n\n\"I didn't choose. The aliens did, and from what I can see, they've made a pretty good choice.\"\n\nShe gives a non-committal grunt. *Great first start.*\n\n&nbsp;\n\n24th June 2020\n\nFour years have passed, and apparently Seth Rogen's President. Oh, Earth still exists, by the way. The aliens just abducted both of us and life still goes on down there. She's warmed up to me, and we get along pretty well.\n\nThey've left a door open. I don't know if it's by accident or not. There's a note on the ground.\n\n*Thanks for the revenue you've given us. Profits have been low since the wow factor climaxed and dropped since last year. We're going to let you guys go and bring a new pair in. Any suggestions?*\n\nI pick up the attached pen.\n\n*No problems, thanks for the apartment-style place. It has been really nice. I'd suggest two people who've never met (and preferably work in different sectors), but make sure they're both famous. Maybe the former North Korean leader, Kim-Jong-Un, and Emma Watson or Stone.*\n\nI went into our bedroom.\n\n\"Ella, wake up. We're leaving. Pack your stuff up and meet me at the door in an hour.\", I whisper. She stirs, her hair still a mess from last night.\n\n\"Wha?\"\n\n\"Pack your stuff up, we're going back down.\"\n\n",
"\"Who the fuck are you?\" she asked, and that was the first time I heard Taylor Swift say 'fuck'.\n\n\"Hi. I'm Mark\", I said, and I meant it. \"I'm your roommate now.\"\n\n\"Where the fuck are we?\" Taylor asked, and that was the second time I heard Taylor Swift say 'fuck'.\n\n\"We are\", I said, with a smile, \"somewhere in the Andromeda Galaxy.\" And then she passed out.\n\nIn due time (a week, or so), Tay-Tay calmed down, and I was able to explain why she was there. I explained how I \nwas abducted and brought to the zoo, and how I've been there for years. I explained how the aliens said they were \nlooking for a suitable partner for me, the previous week, and they said I could take my pick.\n\n\"Anyone?\" I had asked them, and they said, \"Anyone.\"\n\n\"Oh shit\", I said. \"This could take a while.\"\n\n\"You take your ti –\"\n\n\"Jennifer Aniston.\"\n\n\"All right, we'll –\"\n\n\"No! Anna Kendrick!\"\n\n\"Anna Ken –\"\n\n\"Jessica Alba. Natalie Portman. Michael Fassbender.\"\n\n\"Are you done?\"\n\nAnd it did take a while, I explained Taylor, but I finally settled.\n\n\"On you\", I finished, with a smile at Tay-Tay.\n\n\"Well, there's no way anything is going to happen between us\", Taylor said, firmly. \"You're gross.\"\n\n\"Oh, come on\", I replied. \"What other option you got?\"\n\n\"I don’t care. Forget it.\"\n\n\"Think about it\", I said. \"Think of the songs you could write! Interplanetary romance! You could be the next David \nBowie\", I said. \"But… you know… nicer looking.\"\n\n\"I don't care\", Taylor said, even more firmly than before.\n\nAnd the days and the months and the years passed, and Taylor would resist my approaches every time, until I \nfinally gave up.\n\nI gave up and, from then on, I would just sit on my corner. All day. I'd eat when the aliens would tell me to eat, \nand I'd stare at the ceiling the rest of the time. Taylor would sit on her corner, throwing eyes at me, now and then. \nTruth is, I think even then she was starting to have second thoughts. Who knows?\n\nLoneliness, man. It unites us all.\n\nAnd then came the day of the Playstation. The day the alien-in-charge walked into our cage afterhours and pulled me aside and said, \"Look, dude, you're bumming everybody out.\"\n\n\"I'm sorry\", I said. \"I'm just bored.\"\n\n\"Do you want anything from your home planet?\" The alien-in-charge asked. \"Anything that will lift your spirit? We \ncan arrange that for you. Just name it.\"\n\nAnd I remembered my PS4, and the alien said it was no trouble. A week later it arrived, and my mood changed \nalmost overnight.\n\nI was a hit. The aliens loved to see me playing GTA and PES and whatnot, and the zoo income, the alien-in-charge \ntold me, was through the roof. Nerd gamers, apparently, were a hit in the Andromeda Galaxy.\n\nThey gave me other games. A computer. A Steam account. Everything I asked for. I was a celebrity.\n\nThings were finally looking up, and I was happy. I barely thought of Tay-Tay anymore.\n\nAnd then, one night, during a particularly challenging re-play of Last of Us, I felt a hand on my shoulder.\n\n\"Hey Mark\", I heard the voice of Shake it Off, in my ear. \"Whatcha doin?\"\n\nAnd I was playing the Ellie part, which is the hardest part. With the bow and arrow and everything.\n\n\"Let's do something fun\", Taylor whispered, in my ear. \"Let's get drunk!\"\n\nShe tried to pull my face towards her and I paused the game and turned a mean look her way. \"Could you?\" I said, looking from her to the TV. \"Kind of in the middle of something here.\"\n\nAnd Taylor rolled her eyes and let go of me just as I managed to save Joel in the game, and all the aliens watching us cheered.\n\n\"What about later?\"\n\n\"Later I'm playing Skyrim\", I said, and the aliens cheered at that. \n\nI was a freaking celebrity. And I *knew* the aliens loved when I played Skyrim.\n\n\"Unbelievable. I'm getting shot down by a neckbeard\", Taylor Swift said, from behind me. \"Fuck!\"\n\nAnd that was the third time I heard Taylor Swift say 'fuck'.\n\n_____________________\n\n*Thanks for reading! For more stories, check out /r/psycho_alpaca =)*"
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[WP] Employers won't hire you unless you have total conscious control over your genome.
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"Waiting rooms used to be Warm places meant to make you feel at ease, or at the very least, comfortable. Somewhere along the way though, Some fad or another instilled a sense of sterility and purity in the Megacorps and now everything was chrome and bright white, like every inch of the room and its furniture is simply an extension of the fluorescent light overhead.\n\nYou spare a glance from the phone in your hand to get a look at the \"competition\".\n\nA Threadbare suit 2 sizes too big is draped over a spare frame with a shock of brown hair on its head. In any other situation the man's face would be comical, eyes crossed to examine his nose. His eyes squeeze shut in supreme concentration, half mental exertion, the other half some hope or prayer to prop up and help the exertion.\n\nAlmost imperceptibly, the nose shrinks a half an inch and widens. The man breathes a sigh of relief, cross eyed again. he glances up at you, finally noticing your interest in his comparably pitiful manipulation and blanches. Another Sigh, this time of resignation, and he dejectedly removes himself from the waiting room, and the running.\n\nsmiling slightly, you adjust your tie, though at this point its merely an affectation. being a Flux man has its perks, being able to weed out the competition the least among them.\n\nYou catch yourself in a chrome surface and Stop the flux for a second. Red Hair, purple eyes, narrow face. Ripple through the codes. Platinum blonde, blue, narrow eyes,wide face, birthmark above your right eyebrow. \n\nYou return to the shuffle and sit back enjoying the feeling of rippling through your own genome, expressing traits like endlessly riffling cards, maintaining the basics, height weight dimensions, only for the sake of your tailored suit. Looking like a time lapse of of a NYC street sitting down.\n\nA woman in clothes that could arguably be called camouflage in this room Steps from the office beyond; \"Mr Eahald will see you now.\"\n\nthe office is starkly contrasted from the waiting room outside, lending itself more towards the old fashioned, library style including an older gentlemen sitting before a natural wood desk. *Natural* wood, must have cost a fortune to get. Even more so in bribes to keep.\n\n\"Stop doing that\" he snaps as you take the seat across the desk. \"makes me nauseous\"\n\nYou settle into a set of features somewhere in the ballpark of my natural one.\n\n\"Flux from birth?\"\n\nYou nod \"My parents wanted the best opportunities for me.\"\n\n\"Legal or Illegal?\"\n\n\"Does it matter?\"\n\nHe removes his glasses and stares at you. \"It bloody well does. The only 'opportunities' for an illegal flux man is eventually ending up in a glass beaker somewhere when your genome gets screwed\"\n\n\".... Legal\"\n\n\"very good. if you're lying the scanner in that chair will tell us soon when your chip isn't found. Full resequencing?\"\n\n\"Need time and an amino booster shot for extra pieces to work with but yes.\"\n\n\"And are you comfortable with Gender swapping?\"\n\n\"Not particularly but If it means the job I'll do it\"\n\n\"well then barring some discovery that you were lying, You've got the job\" he stands up to Shake your Hand as you also rise. \"Be sure to grab the introductory dossier from the secretary outside.\"\n\nYou move to the door, and for the first time something cracks in the confidence You've been holding onto. You Halt.\n\n\"May I ask, what will i be doing exactly?\"\n\nHe looks at you as if explaining something tedious to a small child.\n\n\"With how much we're paying you, whatever the hell we tell you to do.\"\n\n",
"As I entered through the side-passage, the door knocked over a stack of papers. \"Are all of these job apps?\" I said, gesturing to the dozens of stacks that escaped. My supervisor nodded grimly, pulling a seat out for me. I grabbed a ream of CVs as an improvised coffee coaster. \"We should do some sort of pre-filter,\" I said, \"there's no way we can read all of these.\"\n\n\"Believe me, we do,\" said my supervisor. \"Let's see here,\" he put on his glasses and pulled the job ad up on his laptop. \"Candidate must be fluent in English, Chinese, and proto-Sanskrit.\" I chuckled. \"Candidate must be able to benchpress 200 lbs. Candidate must have ten years of experience with quantum computers.\"\n\n\"All that for a fax machine jockey?\" I said. Supervisor shot me a glare for interrupting.\n\n\"Candidate must have total conscious control over their own genome.\" He lowered his glasses and gave me an explanation. \"None of the other filters were effective enough. You should've seen the piles before we added that.\"\n\n\"I guess I'm lucky Dad got me in,\" I said, shuffling uncomfortably. As if in response, there was a timid knock on the main entrance, like you'd expect from an ashamed child coming in after curfew. \"Come in!\" I said. The massive doors creaked open and the candidate crept in.\n\n\"I'm sorry I'm early,\" he said, bowing his head humbly. If you want an image, picture Mahatma Gandhi dressed in a poorly-fit rent-a-suit. He held a rental hat defensively in front, you might think he was paying homage to a king. The immaculate shine from our floor seemed to pain his eyes as he stared at his bare feet. \"I'm sorry,\" he said again, \"I am just a bug, a mere slime-creature, next to great men like yourselves.\"\n\n\"You must be Jacob... sorry, I mean Esau,\" I said, fumbling with his application. \"Seems like we got your papers mixed up with someone else's. Well, forget it, why don't you just tell us a little why you'd like the job.\"\n\nHe perked up slightly, as if I'd said something that sparked his interest. \"Oh, please, sir,\" he said, \"I've always dreamed of working a fax machine.\" He gripped the hat tighter as his voice took passion. \"My father was a fax monkey, sir, that was before the Redepression of course, jobs weren't so hard to come by then, I remember, sir, my sisters and I would rush to greet him every day as he walked home whistling from the office. Sometimes mistaken faxes would come through and if he was lucky they'd let him take one of them home for us. Oh, how exciting it was, on those lucky days, when Papa would give us a little wink and reach into his backpack. You never knew, would you get a voided invoice from California? Would you get an advertisement for life insurance? If you were especially lucky you might even get a job application, you could just feel the thrill of hope in the writer as you held it in your hands, that glossy fax machine ink smudging your fingers. We learned to love the taste of that ink, we would lick our fingers after handling the surplus faxes, then when we had played with them to our hearts' content, Papa would tape those surplus faxes to our wall. We had quite a collection, sir, but nothing like the stories Papa told us of his workplace. A glint in his eye, he'd tell us of the faxes coming in, a hundred mighty fax machines humming in harmony, assistants running to and fro with their staplers, dainty secretaries fainting as they read important memos, VPs dashing in to retrieve important documents from Bangladesh. Oh, please, sir,\" here his eyes were shimmering, \"if you gave me this job it would be my life dream come true.\"\n\nMy jaw had dropped open in astonishment. I was on the verge of giving him the job there and then, but my supervisor made a cutting motion to silence me. \"That's all good, Esau,\" he said, taking off his reading glasses, \"but are you fluent in proto-Sanskrit?\"\n\nThe candidate gave a slight bow. \"Jnaana aanandha dhana dhyaana\" he said with a smile, and looked to us as if searching for approval in our faces. My super and I exchanged uncertain glances with each other. How were we supposed to know if the guy was joshing us? That requirement was only a filter, after all.\n\nI sidestepped the awkward situation by asking the next question. \"Can you benchpress 200?\"\n\n\"Oh, yes, please sir,\" said the candidate, placing a finger to his temple. Scrunching his face up in concentration, he closed his eyes. My super and I leapt backward in surprise, knocking stacks of paper over, as the big conference table slowly levitated.\n\n\"Err, that'll do!\" said my super. \"And I suppose you have total conscious control over your genome too?\" I could tell from his voice that my super was only asking as a delaying tactic while he thought frantically how to proceed.\n\n\"Yes, sir, please,\" said the candidate. \"In my home tribe they said I was gifted. But,\" here he seemed careful to mix bragging with supplication, \"I am of course a mere bug, a mere slime-creature, next such great men as yourself, sir.\"\n\n\"Thank you, thank you,\" my super said, ushering the man toward the door. \"We'll give you a call after we make our decision.\" By the kurtness of the statement I knew the candidate was doomed. As he bolted the big doors shut behind the applicant, I asked my supervisor why he didn't like the poor guy. \"You kidding?\" he said, \"He'd make us both look bad!\"\n\n\"What'll I tell him, then?\" I said, obediently jotting an X through the application.\n\n\"Quick, add this to the job ad,\" my super pushed me a page from his notepad. \"Candidate must be a great man like us. No bugs, no slime-creatures allowed.\""
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[WP] Environmentalist extremists release a virus that elevates cows to 75 IQ average.
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"My farm was a humble one, none of that modern automation shit, just me, a tractor, and animals. But it changed.\n\nA man broke into my farm last night. I saw him inject something into one of my cows. I immediately grabbed my rifle and shot at him. He ran away and I called a vet about this. Inspection found nothing, but my watch of this one cow was interesting. He was growing smarter, first he could open fence gates, next he closed them knowing why they're there. Then it spoke. It was an absolute genius. It was vastly smarter than me, and this one outlier probably raised my cows average IQ to 75. I asked him if he'd be okay with being studied, given how scientifically amazing he is. When he gave a yes, I had him sent off to a research facility.\n\nToday? He's now got a phd in Chemistry, Astrophysics, Quantum Physics and a diploma in Agriculture.",
"John sat, staring in disbelief at his herd of cattle. Last week, they all got sick, every one. It was one terrible week, John almost got seriously ill himself. But, the cows made it through well, and John was recovering from his exhaustion cold or whatever he had gotten. He was hoping his troubles were over, but things were only getting weirder.\n\nEvery single cow in his herd of 120 were running in a circle. They were... keeping time? Abruptly, one of the cows mooed loudly, and they all just stopped. Then, the cows formed into a block. John wasn't sure what was going on, but he wanted to stop it. He jumped over the fence stile and ran into the field, getting in front of the what, cow battalion? Some of the front row cows ran towards John, shoving him and chasing him back out of the fence. Then the cows started running. Still holding time, they charged straight at the fence. In a concentrated effort they smashed through the gate's lock and all the cows ran out, heading towards the foothills nearby.\n\n---\n\nJohn sat, still on the fence, a few hours later. He had his gun in his hands, quietly pondering his life. His herd, his everything was gone. He had a house, but his herd was his entire source of income. Now that they was gone- he had tried to chase them in his truck, but they had run into a particularly craggly spot near the hills- He knew he had no chance to save them. The gun was telling him, \"Hey, it's over. Time to go buddy.\" He stared down it's barrel, and - what was that? Sounded like mooing in the distance. He jumped off the fence. The cows! They were trudging down the road, heads down, mooing pitifully. They all slunk back into their field. John just couldn't believe it."
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[WP] Write a short story that starts with an air raid siren going off.
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"\"An air raid siren!? are you fucking kidding me steve. a fucking air raid siren!\"\n\n\"no steve, im not having that in the house.\"\n\n\"i couldnt give a shit if its an antique, youre not bring that in here\"\n\n\"goddamn it! planes are not going to attack our shitty little flat in the arse end of nowhere, now put it back where you found it.\"\n\n\"every fucking day, its always something with you. every fucking day.\" ",
"An air raid siren went off. In the distance. Across town. A plaintive but insistent cry muffled by waves and waves of hot shimmery air. It was a summer day. Blue sky. White clouds. My girl and I sat in the shade of a building, with our tub of water, two flea combs, the medicated soap, and the squalling little thing. It was not only louder than the siren, but also at this very moment so much more interesting. Its ears were brown and its tail was brown. Fitting accents for the buff, sand colored body. Two months old maybe, with speckled paws. It was a stray seal point torti covered in hundreds of fleas. \"Let's drown them\", I said. Well we tried that first and quite a few of them began tunneling their way up to and past its neck. Most of these either burrowed into its fluffy cheeks, just below its whiskers, and latched on. A few of them zoomed past these onto its face where they were quickly picked off, as they had left the safety of the kitten's fur. \n\nIt wasn't working. \"Get the killer spray. We have to kill them.\" I tell her this and she grabs the bottle. \"It says to use gloves\". \n\n\"Yeah, well I don't have any. Spray my hand.\"\n\nI massage it in and it smells like paint thinner. Then we pick and pick and pick. It takes hours. \"They swallow them and it gives them worms so they will have to do that. And we will have to test it to see if it is diseased. If it is it will make our others sick.\" I use its name a lot. The name it has to earn tomorrow when it is tested. Until then it isn't for sure ours.\n\nAfterwards I cover the area where we have carried it around with salt. Good for movie baddies but better for fleas.\n\nThe siren sounds again after we have already taken it inside to the little bed with the wadded towel. I set it down and arrange the towel around it. Mew says it. We turn out the lights. \n\nFine enough you know. "
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[WP] You're deemed to be at risk of developing a psychotic mental illness when you grow up and are sent to "sanity school", a secretive therapy center that promises to prevent the illness before it manifests.
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"Probably not what you were looking for at all but here you go anyway.\n\n----------------------------------------------------\n\n*It'll be good for you.*\n\nThe last words my parents said to me to Claremont's Reformatory School for the at Risk Youth. I wasn't so much hurt that the last thing my parents said to me was a little lie rather than why they lied. It wasn't too reassure me. They were just hollow words.\n\nI tossed my pillow onto my bed and the thought out of my brain. Maybe I'll make new friends, I thought. I smoothed out the wrinkles in my sheets and stood back, satisfied with how quickly I settled into my dorm. \n\n\"Oh, you're already here.\"\n\nStanding in the doorway was a redheaded boy with a wheeled trunk behind him and a room key in his hand. He was smiling and didn't seem like an at risk youth at all...\n\n\"I just finished unpacking, actually. I'm Ethan. Here let me help you–\"\n\nHe waved his hand dismissively in front of him. \"It's not necessary, I've only got one trunk,\" he said, as he came in, wheeling it being him. Still no indication that he was anything other than normal. \"I'm Jason, by the way.\"\n\nJason opened his trunk, quickly made his bed and started to put his things away as he hummed a little tune. \n\nI couldn't take it anymore. \"So... Uh, Jason... Why'd your folks send you here?\"\n\nHe kept folding his uniforms as he spoke. \"My homeroom teacher wrote a note to my parents saying I never spoke in class. They took me in for a screening and the doctor said I'm at risk of becoming antisocial. So they sent me here so I don't become a serial killer.\"\n\n\"I got caught reading bootlegs. My folks turned them in to the Information Authority and sent me here.\"\n\n\"Whoa, whoa, whoa,\" Jason stopped his folding. \"You better not have brought any with you. If they find them in our room, we'll both get lobotomized.\"\n\nI opened all my drawers to show him. \"See? Nothing. Besides, I don't know what the big deal about bootlegs are anyway. They're just stories.\"\n\nJason frowned. \"They're not just stories though. They spread escapist ideas, have no educational value whatsoever, breed psychosis and are a total waste of resources.\"\n\nI threw myself on the bed and turned around so I wouldn't have to look at Jason. \n\n\"People used to read them all the time. They even sold them in stores...\" I grumbled\n\n\"That stuff is subversive by nature. If you were paying attention in history class, you'd know that know that durning the first half of the twenty-first century, popular culture was dominated by fantasy stories and science fiction critical of the world, they people became more comfortable identifying with things that weren't real and the whole country fell into a collective psychosis that caused the masses to go into a killing spree. It's not harmless...\" Jason's voice decrescendoed until he was silent.\n\n\"I thought you said you never paid attention in class.\"\n\n\"I never *spoke* in class. It's totally different.\"",
"Mr. Robertson, are you all ready to go home? The voice whispered, pulling me from my daydream. I opened my eyes, Martha; the attendant was standing at the door to my room. I turned my head, taking in the surroundings of the room I had known for so many years. It was bare, the off-white paint on the walls was peeling in some places, and it lacked an abundance of furniture. It was such a better picture in my daydreams.\n\n\n“Yes, Martha, I think I am.” I stood, from my chair, one of the only two pieces of metal in the room, that and my bed frame. “I’m ready to see the world for the first time as a changed man.” Martha smiled, not in joy but more out of a gentle sadness.\n\n\n“Of course, Mr. Robertson. You have waited a long time for this.” She stepped from the door, allowing me to cross the threshold of my room, entering the hallway. I felt the cool rush of air, coming from the open windows down the corridor, the smell of sweet flowers carried with it. I took a deep breath, taking in all that the hallway had to offer.\n\n\n“This is truly a great day Martha!” I exclaimed, letting my arms rise up into the air, twirling in my freedom. “The sun is out, and the breeze feels amazing!” \n“Of course, Mr. Robertson. Now let’s get you out of here.” Martha replied, taking me by the arm, guiding me down the hall. This was such an amazing feeling, being free at last.\n\n\nSeventeen years I waited, seventeen years. They told me that I would go crazy when I was older, but I sure showed them. Martha had been there through it all. She saw my ups and downs, my good days and the terrifyingly bad. She never faltered though, always managed to keep me sane. Sane now that was something that I never thought I would be able to call myself again.\n\n\nThe doctors had done everything to keep me from going insane. Electroshock therapy, aggressive physical-psychological therapy, they even had to restrain me. That was the worst part, my mistakes. However, that was not my fault; Stevey should have stayed out of my room. He always came in when I was trying so hard to behave, always making tons of noise. He would always scream out, ‘I’m your brother, I’m your brother!’ what a liar. I knew my brother, his name was Steven, and he said he would only visit if he knew that I was not going to be coming home. Well I sure showed Stevey, it is rude to imitate someone’s family members. He would not be imitating anyone else, not with his throat collapsed.\nThat had been in the early days, back when I had to fight to stay sane. Martha kept telling me to be strong, that every day I was closer to going home. Her words really kept me in line. I loved Martha, as I used to love my mother. She took such good care of me, and I know that she only ever wanted the best for me.\n\n\n“Mr. Robertson, we need to go and collect your belongings.” Martha spoke, pulling me from my memories. I looked around; we had made it all the way down the hall and down the next several halls.\n\n\n“How… HOW DID I GET HERE?!” I started to get scared; I grabbed Martha by the shoulders, pushing her to the wall. Maybe she was trying to trick me, trying to keep me here as her pet. “Why are you doing this to me?” I shook her as I screamed.\n\n\n“Jonathon, stop!” She spoke sternly, her voice now cold and hurtful. Immediately I stopped, my urge to kill Martha seemed to fade. I let my hands fall to my side, turned back toward the center of the hall. Martha stepped away from the wall, brushed her gown off and looked at me. “Now, I said we are going to collect your belongings. So follow me and keep your hands to yourself.”\n\n\nI let her take me by the arm again, her gentle caress guiding me toward the quartermaster’s cage. She had be stop short, she continued on speaking to the man behind the counter quietly. I noticed him glancing back at me. It was starting to irritate me, but before I could start yelling at him, he walked off. He came back shortly after, with my box of belongings tucked under his arm. He placed them on the counter, slide them through the opening in the glass and Martha took them.\n\n\nShe signed a few papers, grabbed the box and walked back to me. She held out the box, like a prize that she had won for me. I took it smiling, and began to clutch the box tightly. Again, she guided me, down another series of halls until we reached a dark door. She stopped, looked at me and lifted her hands to caress my face.\n\n\n“Mr. Robertson, your freedom is behind that door. I want you to go in there, sit down in the chair and wait for more instructions. Do you understand me?” Martha spoke softly, like a mother to her child.\n\n\n“Yes, ma’am.” I replied I would do anything for Martha. She was my friend. She opened the door, through which I could see a single metal chair illuminated by a swinging overhead lamp. I walked into the room, cautiously. I made my way to the chair turned toward it and sank into its cold embrace. I looked back at the door in which I had just walked, but it was closed. I felt a sting of pain Martha was gone. She had left me.\n\n\n“Martha?” I whispered into the dark, but there was no reply. The only sound that accompanied me was the gentle hiss of the air conditioning.\n\n\nFrom behind a two-way mirror, Martha watched accompanied by the center’s director. They watched in silence as the gas filled the room. Jonathon Robertson did not even seem to feel it cutting off his air supply. Thankfully, there was no sound, Martha did not think she could bear to her him scream. The director watched as the man in the room fell, crawling on all fours and gasping for air. Finally, he collapsed, and when he stopped twitching and convulsing the director looked to Martha.\n\n\n“That is the first patient we have ever been unable to cure. I expect you to do better next time.”\n"
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[WP] Two wizards work out a room mate agreement.
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"“So, necromancy, is it?” Jic asked.\n\n\"Yup,\" replied Meh.\n\n\"Your...\" Jic paused, searching for the correct term. \"... reanimated deceased... do they smell?\"\n\n\"It really depends.\" Meh scratched his head. \"If the corpse hasn't started decomposing, no smell. If it has only started to decompose for a day or two, yes, the smell is beyond awful. However, we very rarely summon anything or anything so specific. A generic summoning will usually reanimate something that is long dead with only bones hence no smell.\"\n\n\"Right,\" said Jic.\n\n\"Yeah,\" said Meh.\n\nThe two wizards looked at each other.\n\n\"Think you can not perform your necromancy when I bring girls over? Might, you know, freak them out.\"\n\n\"Sure.\" Meh nodded his head.\n\nThe two looked at each other, again.\n\n\"You're not into necrophilia, are you?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"Thank God.\"\n\n\"Well, maybe a-\"\n\n\"Make sure I never see it.\"\n\n\"Fine,\" replied Meh.\n\nThe two looked at each other yet again.\n\n\"I'm a druid, in case you are-\"\n\n\"I know. You can also shape shift.\" Interrupted Meh.\n\n\"How-\"\n\n\"You have fur and feathers on your sweater.\"\n\nJic looked at his sleeves.\n\n\"That might be a problem,\" said Meh.\n\n\"It's alright,\" said Jic, \"Despite popular belief, we retain full control of ourselves even when we become large, terrifying beasts.\"\n\n\"I'm allergic to most animals.\"\n\n\"Oh.\"\n\n\"Yeah.\"\n\n\"So no turning into an animal in the room.\"\n\n\"Unless your girlfriend is a furry or into beastiality.\"\n\nThere was an awkward pause.\n\n\"Put a sock on your door.\"",
"‘No fire magic allowed in the living room. No water magic in the bathroom. No light magic allowed after nine in the evening and no familiars upstairs under any circumstances. Food is to be real, not summoned, and cooked instead of magically prepared. Any breaking of these rules will result in a magical ban in its entirety. Also, Al takes out the trash on Mondays, Will on Thursdays.’\n\nThe list should be longer, she knows, but this is what Hailey has written for now. Mediating between the two wizard friends had taken a lot more effort than she truly knew how to give. Hailey knows she is a patient girl, but after the last ‘the floor is lava’ game in which the couch had been swallowed by magma, while she was sitting on it, she knew some ground rules needed to be placed.\n\nIt wasn’t even her house, she didn’t pay rent, she didn’t technically live here, the amount of time she spent here though begged to differ. She tacks the paper on the board in the kitchen and calls the two wizards down. They view each other with an air of disdain as they both meet at the kitchen entrance and Hailey merely rolls her eyes.\n\n“Al, Will, these are your new house rules.” She says, pointing at the board, and they both look at her in disbelief. When she’d said rules and agreement, they hadn’t actually thought that she’d go through with it. She smiles and they both glare. \n\nThe university may have placed them in the same house because of their shared affinity with elemental magic, but that did not mean they had to like it. They’d had a mutual agreement of ‘don’t touch each other’s stuff, stay out of each other’s rooms’ and thought that would have sufficed, according to their mutual friend, it didn’t.\n\n“Why do we need a,” Al squints at the paper, a title in fancy cursive at the top, “Household Agreement?” He asks, and he doesn’t need to look at Will to know that he’s nodding alongside his question.\n\nHailey sighs, “Because you’re both destructive.” Will looks like he’s about to jump to their defence, say they don’t cause that much destruction, but Hailey cuts him off, “The couch and the kitchen table would both argue that you’ll eventually destroy this house if left unchecked.” Will can’t deny that, the table had been unfairly frozen and smashed.\n\nWill shook his head, resigned, “Fine, we’ll agree to your stupid agreement.” He adds, “Even though you don’t live here.” As a grumbled afterthought and ignored the glare that she sends his way, and much rather prefers the triumphant look Al sends instead. They may bicker a lot, but at least they’re united on this front. To tame a wizard, to control him, is just plain mean. \n\n“You have to sign it though.” Hailey says, holding a pen in front of them, “To make the contract binding.” Al pouts, Will resists the urge to pout, but they take the pen regardless, signing the agreement, ignoring Hailey’s smug smile. “You’ll thank me when the house is still standing at the end of the year.”\n\n“Doubt it.” Both Will and Al mutter, sinking into the chairs which would have been around their absent table.\n",
"No words were spoken, but many understood.\n\nEvery once in a while they will stand off, across their unspoken border, after some transgression or another had taken place. We didn't know their names so we started just calling them Red and Blue. Blue would always be the one to start it. One of his \"friends\" would cross the line, and Red would be forced to take action. Who wouldn't though? \n\nWe never heard them speak except for the once. The story goes like this: Red was deep into a particularly large tome, and Blue had gone to class, leaving his friends in the room. When Blue returned he noticed the cage first, but then saw the look on Red's face. We only heard his voice for a second, uttering the spell. Red fought back, but couldn't overcome the swarm that had entered the room, and so he gave in quickly. Now that border sits a few extra inches on his side.\n"
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A bit general but interested
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[WP] You are in love with someone who gives theirs to everyone.
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"You're making a big mistake. You're going to regret this night for the rest of your life. You really don't have to do this, you already have someone that loves every inch of you. Why isn't that enough? The rest of them don't matter. Love isn't measured in quantity, it's measured in quality. \n\nYou walk around with your beaming smile, you shower them with affection, you press your body hard into theirs, letting the sensuousness permeate your core. It's your fucking drug, and it changes you. It takes all the good things about you and it deadens them. Every nuance of your personality is lost when you're with them; you become a clone, a replicant, a shell of who you really are.\n\nYou know it's happening, but you don't stop it. They cheer your name; you dance on table tops. You get louder, you get dumber, you get drunker, you are gone. Every time, you do this, and yet you never learn. You wake up in the morning and you look to me with your tear stained eyes and you say \"why aren't you enough?!\". And you cry, and you cry. You hate what you do, but you need the attention.\n\nLet's face it, you can't change. So suck it up, stop staring in the mirror, go back to your \"adoring crowd\"; I'll be back here, deep in your brain, loving you unconditionally, and I'll help us through tomorrow's hangover. \n\nAnd maybe then you'll learn that you're enough for us.",
"There she is. Glowing, as usual. Rosy cheeks, glimmering eyes, smile that makes my heart light up with joy. I watch as she opens the front door for me and the group of people I'd arrived with. She greets everyone with her enchanting voice, indescribable with its gentle lilts and bursting with sugar tones. \n\nOnce we all sit, she peers around the circle at us all. A warm shiver explodes down my spine as her gaze rests on me, then fades as she turns her eyes to everyone else in the same way. Oh, I knew I wasn't the special one. I knew I was but another of her many friends, drawn into her honey-like personality: delicious, warm, sweet, and nearly impossible to get away from once you'd heard her melodic laughter. \n\nAn envious glance from me goes unnoticed as she chatters brightly with her guests. I always have to remind myself. It always goes like this.\n\nI'm not the special one, she is."
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[WP] A family is on vacation in the mountains when the mother and daughter are kidnapped while the father goes into the small town to get some things. The kidnappers call to deliver their ransom demands but they are all in an area where cell phone reception is terrible.
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"A short melody indicated that Troy's phone was in roaming as he called his mark's cell from the abandoned cabin. He thought of how he should have bought more money for his TracFone, then how little money his wife Tiffany and he had after losing their house. He peered out of the cloudy panes of the front porch window as he waited what seemed to be forever for the phone to connect. He looked down at the second-rate \"smartphone\" screen that displayed simply a series of nine numbers instead of a contact name with a photo like his old iPhone 6 did back before he lost his job, before he lost everything. Finally the ringing stopped.\n\n\"Hel-\" a man's voice trailed off into a techno-scramble similar to the sound that you hear in The Matrix when they are sent into the landline. Troy waited.\n\n\"Hello?\" nearly clear this time.\n\n\"We have your family\"\n\n\"What? You're bre---g up\" that man said with a tone to his voice still jubilant as a man who was on vacation that clearly didn't get time off of work often. Troy tried again, louder this time,\n\n\"We have your family, and we're not afraid to do what is necessary to get what we want!\"\n\n\"Yes I have a fam--y, and I'm d-ing everything I need -- for retirement. I can't belie-- you people are call-ng me while I'm on vaca----, take me off the ca-- list immediately\"\n\nTroy's forehead and palm met with a thud as he stepped out into the driveway seeking fresh air and a stronger signal. Between getting the girls, tying them up, and squeezing everyone in the Geo Tracker, the bottom had fell out. Rain was serious business up here in the mountains.\n\n\"We have your family and unless we get 50 thousand dollars in unmarked bills we will kill one of each of your daughters and then your wife until we get it!\"\n\nThe message was obviously not delivered.\n\n\"I'm guess--- that you're trying to reach my boss. Mark is in my department, and Bill is my superior at the office. -- sorry I thought --- were a telemark--er.\"\n\n\"Listen, buddy\" Troy said slower and clearer this time. \"We have (he put his hand over the receiver and mumbled to the hostages about their names) Riley and Kaylee and your wife Tamara, and we will kill one at a time until we get our 50 thousand.\"\n\n\"Who is this? Is this - joke? Tim is that y-- man? D-n't be trying to prank -- just because I got -- vacay time and you didn't haha\"\n\nTroy's patience was fading, as his adrenaline left no room to wait for anything. Tiffany gave him a wide-eyed *what the fuck is going on?* look as he entered the cabin again.\n\n\"We....will...kill...your...family\"\n\nThe joy finally left the man's voice.\n\n\"Who is thi-? Wh-what do you want?\"\n\nTroy answered with a thunderous rant that cried relief and sanctuary.\n\n\"50 thousand dollars in unmarked bills, and a no law involved whatsoever\"\n\n\"I'll get you --- money\" he answered in pieces, \"And I'll get --- to New Orleans if --- need, that's NOLA righ-? Just don't hurt --em!\"\n\nTroy walked over to the youngest and held the phone up to her muffled screams. \n\n\"Listen, motherfucker we need you to drop the money off behind the Dollar General on Mole's Head Street, and if there are any cops the girls are dead\"\n\nHe was cut off before he could continue.\n\n\"No! Don't fuck her! You sic- fucks! Every dollar -- the money will be th-re. You don't ---- to molest her! I don't know wher- copperhead is! We're not f-om around here!\"\n\nTroy let out a sigh and looked up at the dusty ceilings, as if he were searching for the patience to continue. He pulled out his revolver.\n\n^*BANG*\n\nTerrified, Tamara and the girls let out chilling, muffled screams as they struggled in their restraints. \n\n\"You hear that motherfucker? We're not messing around here\"\n\nTroy listened with a glaze in his eyes that you see in a man's with little to lose.\n\n\"...Hel-\" \n\n\"GOD DAMNIT!\" Troy shouted, pointing his revolver up and shooting two more holes in the ceiling.\n*^BANG ^BANG*\n \"I said we're not bluffing!\"\n\n\"Hello? I told yo- we aren't from here. Where -- Copperhead bluff?\"\n\n\"AHHHHHHH!\"\n*^BANG^BANG^BANG^CLICKCLICK*\n\nTroy just kept pulling the trigger in a fury. The bullet holes loosed a board from the roof and it came tumbling onto Troy's head along without about a gallon of rainwater. The light peaked in on a man full of rage, with the look on his face like he had just missed a tap-in putt to win The Masters. His eyes were clinched shut, when he opened them he set his gaze upon his wife who had *We're not cut out for this* written all over her face. He held the phone down at his waist.\n\n\"What happe-n-d?\" a voice said from the cell.\n\n\"Just hand me more bullets!\" Troy whispered through his teeth with quiet intensity.\n\n\"There aren't any more bullets!\" his wife answered in an even more desperate whisper.\n\nThe phone perked up again,\n\n\"No more bullets?\"\n\n\"REALLY?! REALLY THAT'S WHAT YOU HEAR LOUD AND CLEAR?!!!\" Troy shouted into the phone. \"50 thousand dollars in unmarked bills, delivered to the back of Dollar General at 3pm or everyone die---!\"\n\nHe couldn't finish.\n\n\"Freeze right there!\" a group of 3 police officers had snuck into the back.\n\n\"Take them outside\" the officer said as Tamara, the girls, and Tiffany were all scooted out the back.\n\nTroy, defeated pointed the gun at the officer, shaking.\n\n\"WHAT THE FUCK!?\" he shouted, in disbelief and confusion. He had ~~researched~~ read on Reddit that this model of TracFone didn't have location tracking, nor could it be traced. /u/PM_ME_YOUR_PHONETITS couldn't of been wrong...could he? No, they couldn't of traced the call, it had only been 5 minutes.\n\n\"Take it easy Son, it's over\" the officer said circling him slowly with the other officers.\n\nTroy loosened his posture. *What went wrong?* he thought to himself, as he shrugged and pointed the gun at his temple.\n\n\"Don't do anything silly now Son\" the officer said reaching for his radio.\n\n\"Don't worry he doesn't have any bullets!\" A voice chimed in from outside. Troy looked out to see a man with a floppy hat riddled with fishing lures, a weathered Members Only jacket, cargo shorts, and Crocs standing next to one of the officers on his radio. It could only have been his mark. *How could this have happened? We planned this for weeks!* he thought, dropping his gun to the dusty and now wet floor.\n\nThe officers cuffed him with a lethargic fervor, as if to acknowledge that he couldn't have possibly resisted. As they walked him out, the younger deputy explained to the new cop on the scene what had happened.\n\n\"The littlest 4 year old had her mom's cell phone in her overalls the whole time. She had pressed the emergency call button from the lock screen about an hour ago and the 911 operator heard the whole thing!\" he laughed. \n\nHearing this Troy lifted his head that had been hanging lower than ever and saw a newly unbound 4 year old playing with an iPhone 6 with a pink Hello Kitty case as if she had not just been through any trauma.\n\n\"Wait! WAIT!\" Troy jerked away and stood before the family as the officers struggled to get control of him again.\n\n\"Who is your wireless carrier?\"",
"His pocket vibrated, it was a well known vibration one he had grown use to from all the years working as a manager to all sorts of strange people, the consistent push and pull on his leg that some days made him have to change where he kept his phone, he grabbed his phone gazing at the caller´s ID it was an unregistered number, he declined the call.\n\n It felt empowering, this time it was not his problem the only reason he had brought his phone along to this desolate mountain was his partner, Mikey he had insisted he had take it in case some unexpected problem surfaced. But this was not Mikey, Mikey had 5 phones and they were not for different uses they were all the same model with the exact same contacts just stored in different locations. This was the way the business worked if you lost your contacts you lost the job, if you missed a call you lost your job. Stressful he thought but not for him this time he was finally on his deserved vacations and his 5 identical phones were happily handed over to Mikey, he did not work his ass off the whole year to have his relaxation ruined by an unregistered number.\n\n Atleast thats what he thought until his pocket vibrated again, he sighed and answered to hear a rough dry voice.\n\"W ha-e your d-d-re\"\nThe call was lost and after fifteen minutes the confusion that it had brought was also lost and peace of mind was once again back on the phil´s mind as he grabbed a jug of milk and stored it on the bottom of his cart but the pocket once again vibrated.\n\"H-llo?\" the same voice from before was heard.\nBefore phil could answer the phone hung up. Phil was now getting angry this would show from his rapid throwing of cabbages into his small cart he did not know who this caller was and he did not care enough to call back but his peace of mind was overcomed by this one little agitation, all his built in anger and stress from work surrounded this one unregistered number, a slow grin formed on his face as his pocket vibrated again. This time he would show them why he should not be bothered on vacations much less when he was picking between salmon and tuna. When he heard the voice object of his hatred say:\n\n\"OKAY ITS RIN-ING. SHUT UP I CAN´T HEA\"\n\nHe picked his words carefully, prepared his throat but before he could wake up whole towns with shouts that would push horses from mountains, the caller hung up. This was the last straw Phil angrily poked his phone until this unidentified caller was blocked.\n30 minutes passed and he felt free, he had showed them, he had finally regained peace. This called for celebration he would go buy wine for the mrs. and two hour movie tickets for the daughter. Oh the world would sing stories of this justice. Praised be the holy block option! But then his pocket felt a dazzle of the hated motion, a whatsapp message was shown from a Ryan Luposky\n\"Did you block me? [Angry Emoticon]\"\nHis anger all returned in one strike he finally had a name for all this built in anger he did not know who he was but he even used emoticons. Oh what a despicable human being indeed! It was time for chapter two of his revenge quick google searches showed instagram, twitter, facebook and many others of Ryan Luposkys all over the world whoever he was, he would rue the day he called Phil and hung up on him 3 times. Whatsapp messages kept appearing on the phone but Phil payed them no attention he quickly went on Peter´s photo and reverse searched like a mad man he found all the accounts linked to Peter Luposky. Only 18 Followers 189 friends and 30 likes on his profile picture. A part of his mind wanted to give him another chance but his angry fingers typed away soon #Blocked and #RudeRyan would be trendding over all social medias. With a big smile and no battery left, he closed his phone. He hiked back to his rented cabin to find police surrounding the area his wife and daughter crying but unharmed and the television turned on to the news he reads \"Kidnapper Ryan Luposky hands himself in, search continues for partner\"\n\n\n\n #RudeRyan indeed"
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[WP] Albert Einstein once said, "I know not with what weapons World War III will be fought, but World War IV will be fought with....Super Soakers?"
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"Chilly was the earth\n\nthough the lands there was darkness\n\nwar once again rang.\n\nNo longer fleshy\n\nwith a core flame they evolved\n\nto survive the cold.\n\nTheir weapons were drawn\n\nworkers melting ice to water\n\nassembling their guns.\n\nOn the battlefield\n\nonce boys, phony brave, men\n\nturn heel, prepare, aim.\n\nstart pumping and fire\n\nMen on both sides collapse \n\nksk, ksk, both sides lose.\n\nextinguish and lost\n\nput out with Super-soakers\n\nlike the world before.\n\n\n{I wanted to stay with the Haiku, I never get to do them}\n\n "
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[WP] Here, the flowers need fire to grow. So the dragons are gardeners, you see?
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"The gardener gently breathed over the flower and watched in satisfaction as it grew a little more, before moving onto the next flower, and then the next and the next, until what had been grassland with tiny plants barely poking out through the soil had become a wild meadow full of grasses and bright, colourful flowers standing over 6 feet tall. Far away over the impassable mountain ridges and into the valley beyond was a village, and in that village was a boy, reading a book about the dragons who lived in the forbidden mountains, who breathed a fire that would destroy anything in its path, except the flowers that grew on the ridges, high up in the mountains where nobody went. The boy's father walked past at the moment where the book was telling a thrilling tale about the dragon who saved the mountain and the valley with the village from the war with the Shadowlands and their eternal curse of darkness. \"What are you reading Brin?\" The father sounded curious, upon seeing the huge leatherbound book in his son's lap. \"'The tales of The Gardeners', I found it in the Caverns\" Brin replied. At the mention of The Gardeners the father's brows knitted together, and a shadow crossed his previously jovial face. When the word 'caverns' left his son's lips his expression was black as thunder. \"How dare you! How dare you go into the Caverns, you know you are to NEVER enter, they are DANGEROUS!\", the father spat at his son, before snatching the book off him before stalking angrily out of the room. Brin sat and wondered at his father's behaviour. What was so bad about the Caverns? They couldn't fall on him, everyone knew the pillars supporting it were strong enough, so what was in there? And why would nobody tell him about The Gardeners and their forbidden mountain? His head burning with these questions, Brin did something he had thought he would never do; he sought out the Vald'isaer, whose ancestors had lived in the village, passing tales and wisdoms through the family since the age of the wars, but legend said before the wars, they had come from the forbidden mountain, the first Vald'isaer had supposedly limped burnt and broken, aided by his young son, across the impassable mountain and into the village beyond, and then promptly died, leaving behind a son with nothing but the ragged clothes on his back and the stories in his head, and there he and his ancestors had stayed ever since. All the village children were afraid of the Vald'isaer, with their strange hair so silvery blonde it was almost white, and their strange eyes as blue as ice, their forked tongues, their skin that never became less pale, no matter how long spent under the two summer suns, and their strange stories of a land and a life amongst the dragons on the forbidden mountains, and Brin was no exception. Heart in his mouth, he knocked on the strange carved door that had been the entrance to the Vald'isaer house since what seemed to him like time began. The door opened by itself, and Brin entered, jumping as the door closed behind him. \"Brin,\" a voice called from somewhere within the dark house \"I have been expecting you, come to me, the door to your left\", Brin, almost in a trance, looked to his left and saw a door, which he opened, and walked into a room, lit only by a fire in the grate. In the middle of the room sat the Vald'isaer, watching him enter. \"sit. You wish to know about The Gardeners. You may ask one question\", the voice stated. \"Why are they called The Gardeners? They're just dragons?\" Brin blurted out, unable to hold his questions any longer. \"Sit\" the Vald'isaer demanded. Brin sat. The Vald'isaer stared beyond Brin, as though seeing something no other mortal could see. The he spoke, as though reciting a story, or a lesson; \"We are high amongst the peaks and ridges in the Fire Mountains. Here, the flowers need fire to grow. So the dragons are gardeners, you see?\" Brin stared, not quite comprehending how fire could make flowers grow. Flowers were destroyed by fire, flowers needed rain and water. Soon, he came to his self and realised he was sat in the Vald'isaer's lair, having already asked his question, hurriedly he stood and ran to the front door, and opened it to leave when the voice spoke again; \"Boy, the flowers there are not like the ones you know here. They need the fire. The dragons are not the destroyers humans have made them out to be.\" Brin nodded his understanding, and left, afraid of overstaying his welcome.",
"\"Son, look out before you, over the valley.\" And V'syll did, lifting his long neck over the rocky crags, as his father stood over him, his body and great wings forming a massive dome over V'syll, like a great cavern, or a human fortress, around him, defending him, protecting him.\n\n\"Everything the light touches, every tree and shrub and blade of grass, is our responsibility.\" his father said, pride and love in his voice.\n\n\"These lands require us to survive: There can be no growth without destruction, no beauty without burning, no life without death.\" his father arched his neck, swinging his massive head down near V'syll.\n\n\"These lands are ours to hunt in; they sustain us. Yet, at the same time; we must sustain them. We must purify these lands of rot, and overgrowth when it becomes too strong, and we must protect them from outright destruction at the hands of outsiders, at the hands of humans and orcs and dwarves, and even at the hands of elves, well-intentioned as they might be.\"\n\nV'syll did not understand this, in its entirety. \"Why must we protect our lands from the little people, father? Can they not live here, as the deer, and the wolves, and the bears, and the bison do?\"\n\nV'syll's father shook his head, gravely, but patiently. \"Would that we could, my son. But the young races are brash, and do not understand the land as we do. They see not the forest, but the trees that make it, and see not the trees, but the wood that makes them. They see naught but the tools they might shape from the trees, and then, once they cut the trees to the ground and drive away the beasts, ask why there is no more shade to lie beneath.\"\n\nV'syll nodded. He had yet to meet these races, but he already pittied them, and their short, frightening lives, unable to fly high and see the world made from the lands they trod on. \"And what of the elves, father? You said they were well-intentioned.\"\n\nV'syll's father snorted contemptuously, then blinked, like he did when mother scolded him for saying mean things about families in the other valleys. \"The elves know no cycle of death; they believe that death is naught but death; naught but destruction and loss. They do not understand death in service to a greater world around them; they find any death preventable to be unnatural.\"\n\nHe snorted again. \"Death 'unnatural'. The Elves would let the lands grow unchallenged, until there was no land or soil or water left to grow from. The elves would let our lands grow stagnant, unchanging, as they are, unable to adapt and change.\"\n\nV'syll thought he understood. \"We let the forest grow...\"\n\n\"By fire, yes.\" His father's eyes seemed to shine, just slightly. \"We let the forest grow not just grander and thicker, not just larger and denser, but *stronger*, *greater* than before. And in return, all we take are prey, and in doing so, we drive the animals of the forest to find their strength as well- We make our lands great by trials and destruction, by purging weakness from the fields and fallows and woodlands.\"\n\nV'syll nodded his head, as he peeked his head out, over the valley, watching bison frollic in the plains. \"We take care of our lands\" his father said\n\n\"And they take care of us.\" V'syll finished."
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[WP] A group of individuals decides to kill God and the Devil. Unfortunately for them, they succeed.
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"I sneaked past Heaven and Hell Lounge's security.\nThere they were.\nGod and the fucking Devil.\nSitting together with drinks in their hands.\nSmirks on their faces, happy.\nFucking pricks. \nThought God was supposed to be merciful.\nAin't no goddam mercy when my Anna was raped and murdered.\nAnd they think the world, us humans,\nIt's all just a game for them.\nOh no. No. They're in for a world of fucking pain.\nI swiftly run into their midst. A bomb, covered with\nThe Godkiller substance, strapped to my chest.\nI yell, 'This is for mankind, you dicks!', and detona-\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nERROR 0x000001: Universe has crashed.\nPlease reboot your system or contact an administrator.",
"He stood over a goldenrod throne, sharpening a silvery blade. Its edges shone with a glimmer that seemed nearly alive. DeMarco loomed behind the gold bushes, peering over at the heavenly host. \n\n\"Alright, I have sight on the Lord. He seems to be occupied...\" The dark orange skinned man scratched at his prickly hair. \"But this doesn't feel right, man. If he is god, then why doesn't he know we're here?\"\n\nThe earpiece on DeMarco's lobe-like appendage buzzed. \"Listen, we have paid you enough to desist with such inquiries. Trust that we have ensured your safety, and get the job done.\" DeMarco grimaced.\n\n\"I'm not sure if you paid enough for a job with this much chop...\" He lifted a rifle, coated in blood. Taking out a slender dart, he loaded it in with a snap. The thin rifle glowed a faint red, and he turned a knob on the side until it glowed white.\n\n\"Need I remind you what we did to the Archangel? One of heaven's top agents, reduced to a pile of dust by yours truly. Using that very weapon, no less.\" \n\n\"Alright, whatever. Quinn, I wanna be promoted after this.\", said a shaking DeMarco. He peered down the lens of the gun, the liquid glass morphing around until God was right in his sights.\n\n\"You will become a king, no, even an emperor, after this, my Urntan friend. All of Urntas will bow to you, the strongest warrior of your people. And may you inherit the riches of the lower heavens.\", Quinn boasted.\n\nDeMarco smirked, and began tightening his neck. The flaps on the side of his cheeks closed, and his finger locked into the trigger. He concentrated on the Lord, who was placing down his dagger. He looked out on the horizon, seeing the golden streets and angels in harmony. He smiled, and looked straight at DeMarco, winking.\n\nDeMarco's eyes widened, and he pulled the trigger in shock. The rifle ejected a canister of holy oil, burning through the bushes like acid. He scrambled with the dial to focus in on his target, only to see an empty throne. DeMarco's cheeks widened, the flaps slowly wiggling. \"My lord... I fired at the target. But he's... he...\"\n\nHe heard static and screams. A million cries. He couldn't bear it, and was about to remove it until it exploded. He was thrown to the ground with a crunch.\n\nHe screamed out in pain, grasping at his lobe. Black oil was spilling out of his torn ear, and he dropped his weapon. He could only see the sky now, and clouds moving fast. He tried screaming but his mouth wouldn't move. He felt numb. He assumed the worst, and closed his mind, bracing for death.\n\n\nIn a dark palace, Quinn was looking at many screens, a frantic face upon him. He gasped, seeing news reports of churches all over the world burning to the ground. He saw Fox News' report on the end times, and CNN's take on anti Christian Terrorists. Most reports were unreliable, and the man knew all too well. He took out a small knife, scraping his hand until blood drew. He poured it over a wooden box covered in chalky markings. It began to levitate, and Quinn uttered something in an ancient language.\n\nThe box's face began to glow white, and he could hear the screams. He rotated his hand in a circular motion, the sounds shifting around, until he heard angels speak.\n\n\"-is lost! We are doomed, without the Lord and our Archangel we-\"\n\nHe rotated his hand more.\n\n\"-need to get away. I've heard Mars is pretty secluded, we just have to bring spacesu-\" \n\n\"Damn\", said Quinn. They are in a scramble. How will we kill them all?, he thought. He motioned with his other hand and rotated it, sifting through random chatter until his attention peaked. \n\n\"Within the first regiment. Crusader Derilion will lead the third strike corps. Although our Father has left us, we still have the Son, and the Holy Ghost. They will be much weakened in their fragmented form, but we can still pull together to quell this threat. General Adrius, is your Golden Battalion at the ready?\" Quinn closed his fists. God dammit! The entire heavenly military is out to get us! I didn't expect god to have three separate entities to kill! We only had three Deity Killer darts, and I used one of them on the Archangel! Dammit, damn, fuck! \n\nQuinn spat at the box, it bursting into flames. His chimera-yellow eyes closed, and he folded his arms. He was raged, with such an embarrassment occurring. He was entirely unsure if he could topple the heavenly military. From the ancient texts he'd read that killing God would erase heaven's angels and open it to all, but he didn't realise how literal the Catholic interpretation of the trinity was. He then knew the only way to win the new war that had begun. He would have to commandeer the army of Hell. And that meant killing Satan himself.\n\n(Will continue in next comment later)\n"
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[WP] You've stumbled into a huge conspiracy. A secret organization that quietly controls... the most insignificant thing possible.
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"Try as I might, I couldn't get my arms free.\n\nI'd finally regained consciousness in a darkened room, tied and bound to a small wooden chair. The light was so low, I could barely make out the desk in front of me. I shuddered. Who knows how long I'd been asleep. The syringe going into my neck was the faintest of memories, drifting away into obscurity whenever I attempted to recall specific details. I'd been walking home, hadn't I? \n\nThe silence was crushing. So quiet, I could my heartbeat drumming away in my ears. I hate that. It's like I can nearly feel the blood being pumped around my body. My stupid, tied up body. The silent tension became too much, and I had to break it.\n\n\"Hello?\" I said.\n\nThe door flew open, and three official looking men nearly stumbled over each other in their excitement to get in. All wearing the same neat black suits, they very much reminded me of those people you see working at banks, welcoming you into the store with a smile on their lips and pound coins in their eyes.\n\n\"It's about bloody time!\" the first exclaimed, \"Do you know how long you've been asleep?\"\n\nI shook my head. I didn't want to speak. Not yet.\n\n\"My name is Peter Peckerwood,\" he resumed. \"This is Jenkins, say hello Jenkins.\"\n\n\"Hello,\" said Jenkins, in a voice that sounded so dreary it would have been more at place in some sort of morgue-library.\n\n\"And I'm Stanley!\" said the last. \"Stanley Waterford!\"\n\n\"Yes, I was just getting to that thank you Stanley,\" Peter Peckerwood said huffily.\n \n\"Well, I'm sorry old fruit I just thought I'd say hello,\" Stanley replied.\n\n\"No, sorry for making a fuss, but what's the point of us standing out there for half an hour deciding who was going to do the talking if when we come in here you just interrupt?\"\n\n\"If you hadn't said anything, the boy wouldn't have known who was meant to talk! Or even that we'd had a system in place!\"\n\n\"Oh so you're going to mention the system *as well* are you? Tell me Stanley, why don't you just fucking give him the address while you're at it?\"\n\n\"I don't see how that would be of any help Peter, could you explain?\"\n\n\nI wriggled in my seat, inadvertently drawing their attention. The rope was biting into my arms. Noticing my movement, Peter Peckerwood broke back into a smile enthusiastically.\n\n\"Please excuse me. My colleague...\" he shot a glaring look at Stanley, \"and I were just discussing business. Which of course is what we must now do with you.\"\n\n\"B..business?\" I stuttered, feeling the sweat start to drip down my brow.\n\n\"Yes,\" Peckerwood said, suddenly looking much more serious. \"You've been quite the naughty boy haven't you, what with all this *investigating* you've been doing.\"\n\nI sat stunned. Investigating? What on Earth was he talking about? I'm a plumber, the most investigation I've done recently is seeing how much feces and pubic hair had blocked up Elena Ford's toilet piping. \n\n\"Investigating?\" I finally managed to answer, no doubt sounding much more stupid and puzzled than I'd have liked.\n\n\"Ah. He doesn't remember. You don't remember do you?\" said Peter.\n\nI shook my head.\n\n\"Deary me, he doesn't remember!\" Peter repeated cheerfully, like a babysitter jokingly admonishing a child.\n\n\"He doesn't remember,\" added Jenkins\n\n\"YES, THAT'S QUITE ALRIGHT JENKINS, WE'RE AWARE OF THAT THANKS,\" Peter exploded, before immediately returning to a smile. Looking less of a bank clerk, and more of a door salesman, I remember thinking.\n\n\"You, my dear lad, received a package from Amazon the other day didn't you?\" Peter inquired. I nodded in response, too confused to answer.\n\n\"And, that package was contained in a box wasn't it?\" he continued, once again smiling and pausing until I responded with a nod.\n\n\"And in that box...\" his voice began to slow, as if he were suddenly overcome with emotion, and now was struggling to contain the anger. His two colleagues seemed to notice, taking half a step back, as he continued. \"was styrofoam, wasn't there?\" \n\nThis time a nod didn't suffice, and he lunged over and grasped my bound wrists, and put his face into mine. His voice trembled, and far from the charming smiles, he now spat each word with utter menace.\n\n\"And you asked your girlfriend... who. makes. the. styrofoam.\" \n\nI sat stunned. Had I? Yes... Yes, I had... I'd said it as a joke. The boxes always come packed with the stuff, and I wondered who actually made it. I looked into Peter Peckerwood's eyes. He saw my acknowledgement. \n\nHe stood up, looked side to side at each of his accomplices and said \"*No one asks about the styrofoam*.\"",
"I stumble forward, tripping once more on the hem of the red cloak I now wore. A hand gripped my arm and pulled me upright, preventing an unfortunate but at this rate unavoidable liaison between the floor and my face. \n\n\"Easy there\" uttered my saviour, his French accent emanating from beneath the shadowy hood that hid his face.\n\n\"I think you might want to bring the hem in a bit, if you value your teeth\"\n\nI muttered my thanks and continued on.\n\nIt wasn't my cloak of course. I found it among my grandfathers things. He passed away about a week ago, very sad but not unexpected. He was a very sick man for a very long time. \n\nIn a box in his cupboard I found the cloak with a note attached, asking me to come to a large warehouse at midnight. Inside I found hundreds of hooded figures, after a few minutes of bewilderment, the crowd began to move down a large, downward slanting tunnel. I followed.\n\nAnd here I was, surrounded by red hoods and smelling vaguely of mothballs and old spice. \n\nA light ahead caught my attention as the tunnel opened into a large circular chamber. The crowd obscured the centre of the room, but around the edges I could see a series of circles cut into the stone. Each one was higher and further out than the last, so that it created a staircase effect. Perfect for a large audience to stand and view the centre.\n\nWe filed into place, I ended up nearer the back, but I could now see that in the middle of the room was a circular dais, chiselled with a strange pentagram. Within the pentagram was a kneeling figure, form obscured by a white shroud. \n\nAs the last of the crowd slotted itself into place, a hush fell across the assembled cloaks. \n\nFootsteps.\n\nA figure emerged from an opening behind the dais. His cloak a dark blue speck in the sea of red that surrounded him. He approached the shrouded form, a dagger in his hand. At this point I noticed that I hadn't been breathing for quite some time. \n\nI took a gulp of air as he pulled back the shroud and revealed a woman. Her dark hair shone in the light of the chamber, and her olive skin glistened with sweat. Also she was naked. \n\nI accepted it. I had long since stopped questioning what was going on.\n\nThe knife flashed, and the woman fell forward. Crimson flowed over the pentagram and for a few moments all was silent and still.\n\nFlames erupt from the blood, and within seconds both the blood and the body have been entirely consumed. In under a minute, there is no trace that there was anyone there. \n\n\"The sacrifice has been accepted!\" announced the blue man.\n\n\"By the power of mighty Gilgamesh! Half-Life 3 is delayed for another year!\"\n\nThe crowd around me erupted in celebration, as I stood frozen in horror.\n\nThese monsters must be stopped."
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[WP] Technology has been invented that allows people to edit their actual physical appearance through a Photoshop like interface. This has spawned a new industry of emergency "rescue artists" for when people don't get it right. One such artist encounters something he has never seen before.
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"I quit today. There's just some things a man should never have to see. \n\nAt first, the job with Adobe Skinshop had been pretty cool. The customers were usually hot and always rich (at 50k a pop, the process was no joke) and just needed some help smoothing out a wrinkle there, adjusting the curve of a tit here, or shrinking a penis... well, all the time, actually. Turns out, while there're plenty of YouTube tutorials on how to enlarge one's junk, the help for taking it back down is pretty lacking. Suffice it to say, my customers tend to get a bit... enthusiastic... and often regret their initial changes.\n\nIt was pretty easy. My past experience with Photoshop had been invaluable, and my knowledge of the old Photoshop shortcuts, still baked into the system, allowed me to work quickly, making me well over 6 figures a year. I've been working as an Emergency Skin Tech for three years now though, and the job had started to get routine. Dull, even. The last interesting thing I'd seen was a Japanese guy who'd turned his hands into tentacles for some sexual fantasy and was unable to use a mouse or keyboard to switch back to his default save. When he'd shuffled out of the SkinChange bay, he'd hastily tipped me a huge amount and then hurried off, letting me find my own way out. But that'd been 6 months ago, and the never-ending stream of wealthy Mila Kunis and Ryan Gosling look-alikes was getting rather dull.\n\nUntil today, that is. \n\nWhen the woman called in, it took nearly 10 minutes to get her frantic, high-pitched wails into something I could understand.\n\n\"O-o-oh my god. Please, please, please. You have to s-s-send someone. Please. Oh, god, what have I done. Oh, I can't believe it. Sam, *Saaaaam*\"\n\nHer voice trailed off into indecipherable gibberish again. Unable to get anything more from her, I hopped in the company car and headed towards the call, mumbling under my breath that this better not be another rhinoplasty gone wrong.\n\nWhen I got there, though, it was clear that this was no standard Skinshop procedure. I pulled up to the house, a humongous and rambling affair with a large, sweeping driveway and porte cochere tastefully opening up on a verdant estate. The tranquility, though, ended at the door, which had been hastily thrown open. \n\nInside, the entry way was slick with blood. My caller was sunk in a heap in the middle of it all, cradling a... thing in her arms. That's all I could think to call it. You could tell that it'd once been human, but its mangled limbs bent in obscene angles. In the gaping hole of a chest, I could see a heart, still beating weakly, lungs exposed and flopping on the floor. And its face... Where a face had been, tendrils of hair hung in matted clumps, shaking from the sobs emanating from the madwoman crouched on the floor. The mouth hung open impossibly wide, a grimace locked on its lacerated lips.\n\nI threw up.\n\nWhen I'd emptied what I could onto those exquisitely paved cobblestones, I looked up again to see the woman staring blankly at me, body still wracked with sobs. I avoided looking at the body in her arms which, mercifully, had finally stopped moving.\n\n\"Ma'am... what the hell.. what the hell happened?\" I asked in between dry heaves.\n\n\"I... I... accidentally pressed ctrl + J. W-w-when it inverted him. Oh god. When it inverted him... I panicked, and I saved the changes\"",
" \nFonzo frowns and shifts nervously on his armchair \"I can hear your cat coming in...\"\n\nVenna sinks further into the sofa \n\n\"relax,you. Soon your eyes will work again,and you'll see they aren't so bad after all.\" Fonzo retorts\n\"doubt it,too dumb to tell that I'm blind? Shouldn't be anywhere near me.\"\n\nVenna larthagically throws her book on the ground,it slides across the floor and stops on the carpet.She gets off the couch. \n\nFonzos is at the edge of his seat \"what was that!\" \n\nShe giggles\n\"Don't know why you hate them in the first place,they should hate you\"\n\nVenna sets a chair near the mirrored wall. Fonzo's scowl remains \"Don't know how I would feel if the first thing I ever saw was some ugly cat.Please get rid of it.\"\n\n\" You'll see me first,and you need me...so I doubt there will be a problem .\" \n\nHe sighs,that sounded more like another threat than reassurance,His ears perk up as he hears it meow \n\" just get it out!\"\n\nVenna walks towards him purposefully thumping her feet to make herself sound heavy.\"Don't be a dick,just because you keep stepping on its tail...and don't you take that tone with me,you little shit!\"\n\nHe swallows.\n\n\"Besides,It's almost time to remove those bandages anyway.Don't know how you ever got so popular among those freaks without seeing any of your own work....\"\n\nVenna stands behind him.She gently places her hand on his cheek and peels away the bandages. Two dim yellow lights shine through the fabric into the darkness ahead.Jin is perfectly still \"I can't see anything\"\n\n\"I'll turn up the lighting in a second,Finnik says it will take at least 4 hours to be accustomed to the eyeshine\"\n\nAs the bandage falls to the floor.Venna leads him towards the mirror.She lifts her palm up and makes a dial twisting movement,the lights turn on .\n\nHe pauses,his new eyes are are like balls of fire with black slits,their gaze dashing across his reflection,making an assessment of his features. The area around his mouth protrudes slightly,flanked on each side by 6 long strands of hair.He wrinkles his stubby pink nose and then relaxes his face into a blank stare.Running his clawed fingers across his pointy ears.\"Hmmm\".\n\nVenna stands next to him.\"So what do you think?\" \nHe turns to her and pauses.\n\nshe smirks a little \"Hmm?\".\nHe stares past her,she looks smug \"I'm sure the irony isn't los...\" \n\n He interrupts her with a squee of excitement and delight,bouncing and clapping rapidly.",
"Poignant smell was penetrating the air. John knew not what he was going into, for he have never encountered anything of such nature. As he opened the door to the apartment his eyes widened and his stomach let out a violent growl.\n\n\"It... it can't be\" John was tearing up as he looked at a hideous abomination that was spread out on the floor before him. The creature started pulsating and shifting around. \"Is it trying to talk?\"\n\nIgnoring all his survival instincts John got closer. \"Undooooo\" a deep muffled voice echoed from the flaps of fat and rot. \"Undooooo\" it went on and on, each time making John more nervous than before.\n\nSuddenly, a faint glow appeared somewhere inside the creature. \"They don't pay me enough\" John murmured to himself, then quickly pushed his hand through pulsating layers of flesh until his fingers finally got a hold of something solid. It was a phone. As he pulled it out, mucus and puke squirted out the holes, that were now opening and closing on the skin of the creature. \"Just one touch and this will all be over\" John tried to reassure himself. He cleaned the phone with his shirt and then looked at the screen. It was a picture of your mom. John realized there was nothing he could do.\n\n\"Don't move, sir... madam... Just wait here. I have to get help.\"\nJohn ran and ran until he left the building, the block and then eventually the city.\n\nFew weeks later he received a call. A deep and breathy voice growled through the earpiece.\n\n\"Undooooooo\"",
"There had been talk of a new machine, one that took your humanity and spit out monsters. The Jǔzhèn had been used by most of the population, to fix the imperfections of their weak, human genome. \n\nThe original machine, Jǔzhèn, had been a plastic surgery success. People could get rid of wrinkles, smooth away the years. They could fix cleft pallets, even out skin tone, even repair the damage done by acid attacks in the Middle East. \n\nBy 2014, it was part of pop culture. You have to be sixteen to enter the machines, but you could come out looking like a beauty queen. \n\nSure there were people against it. Religious groups said that God wanted us to be imperfect. But when it started to cure obesity and fix skin cancer, people abandoned their Biblical principal and lined up. \n\nThe Second Wave of Jǔzhèn machines came out of Africa, surprisingly. Korea had been the leading manufacturer of plastic surgery for years. Their portable skin care machines had been all the rage. The Aleumdaun Haenglyeol was overshadowed by the God Vonk. South Africa took the lead in Body Morphic technology, turning their people into the most beautiful in the world. \n\nAmerica was one of the first people to treat these machines like photo booths. They started putting Morphic technologies in malls. They sold them for thousands of dollars. They had classes on PersonShopping. Technology had leaped ahead, leaving the religious and proud in the dust. \n\nLeaving me in the dust. \n\nMy sister, Diana, had been one of the first people to try it. Having been overweight most of her life, she wanted the pounds gone. And when they did, when she was finally the person she wanted to be, she didn't need me anymore. She went off on adventures, leaving me to fall apart like the generation before me had done. \n\nWhich made me a rather strange character in the world of Shopping. I was one of the leading \"rescue artists\" in the Inland Empire. I could turn a bad nose job into the Sistine Chapel. People called me at all hours, the ER of majestic fuck ups. \n\nSo I was surprised when I saw my sister at my door, demanding I help her fix the biggest mistake of her life. Diana sat across from me, her thin legs drawn under. She had changed since the last time I saw her. Though her hair was the same thick, copper waves... her eyes were larger, her mouth rounded. She looked thinner, more like a child. \n\nI could still see my sister in the high cheek bones, the proud tilt of her neck. But soon, she would disappear into the addiction, changing herself until she was almost cartoonish. I had seen her friends, with their pointed ears and slanted eyes. They talked in recorded voices, more robot than human. A cyborg obsession that led to loss of self. \n\n\"I did it.\" \n\nDiana held a small piece of paper in her hands, like an injured bird. Her gestures were not as exaggerated as they usually were. The old word, almost forgotten, seeped into my mind. Otaku. \n\nHer eyes were pink today, though she used contacts instead of actual surgery. Her eyes were the only real thing about her. Everything else was stretched and scattered. \n\n'Did what?\" I asked. I was in the Lazyback, plush red cushions supporting my back. \n\n\"Henshintan,\" Diana whispered. \n\nMy spine straightened. \"You did what?\" \n\n\"I let them,\" Diana said. \"And I don't know what to do about it.\" \n\n\"Why are you telling me this?\" I demanded. \n\n\"I let them experiment. I wanted to see if I couldn't get better.\" \n\n\"You look fine.\" \n\n\"But I wanted to be perfect. And I am. I am far better than I used to be.\" With this Diana began to cry. \"It's not me. It's... Elka.\" \n\nI froze. I hadn't spoke with my brother in years. Not since he came out as trans and left the family. He--*she*--hadn't spoken to anyone in almost a decade. Until he found Diana online, talking about how great the new technologies were. They were always alike, Diana and Allen. But now Diana was an eternal child and Allen was... Elka. \n\n\"What happened?\" I demanded. \n\n\"She lied. She wanted to... she wanted to be like me. But she wasn't. She got the vonk van die dood. The spark of death.\" \n\n",
"\"Uh, how can I help you sir?\"\n\n\"I don't know how this happened! I just wrote down \"Gary Oldman\" on the sheet!\"\n\n\"... you're missing an 'r' there.\"\n\n- - -\n\n\"This isn't what I wanted!\"\n\n\"Well sir, you submitted an image of some sort of cat-girl thing, and I assumed you just wanted the same whiskers and ears so-\"\n\n\"It's a cat*girl*, not a cat*man!* Fix it.\"\n\n- - -\n\n\"So this is awkward, but under dick size I wrote 6' and I'm not sure how you guys managed to fuck up this badly but that sure isn't six inches-\"\n\n\"OH FOR FUCK'S SAKE\"",
"I was napping at my desk in the Rescue Centre when Polly from across the aisle nudged me and almost knocked me to the floor.\n\n\"Geoffry, you have got to see this,\" she whispered. The look of mixed glee and horror on her face confused me, but lately, I've gotten used to it. Especially with the new hires. We had a cartload of them. The Rescue Centre has been the fastest growing department in London since Proteus came out last year.\n\nGreat idea. Give everyone with a thousand quid the chance to recreate themselves in their own fanciful image. We had men with huge wallies, women with gigantic breasts, and even the odd unicorn pegasus centaur pop up on a regular basis, since people learned they could hack the standard program with a few lines of crappy code. I'd seen about every permutation of ugly, extreme, and stupid money could buy. I was jaded.\n\n\"It had better not be another dolphin centaur, Polly,\" I said with a sigh. Third one this week and counting. How did they expect to get their legless arses to the ocean? She just beckoned me over to her computer to show me the result of man's latest exercise in unrestrained stupid.\n\nI stepped back from the screen when I saw the horror. Why on God's green Earth would anyone want to do THAT to themselves?\n\n\"How much proteus tissue did she use?,\" I asked Polly who shook her head.\n\n\"Two tankers and counting,\" she replied, \"and she's not done yet. We can't shut her off by law, and her credit is good so the company can't withhold. So we just have to wait it out.\"\n\n\"Wait it out?\" I asked. \"If we wait it out, London will be crushed by then. Please, tell me this wasn't sabotage by a disgruntled ex-lover.\"\n\n\"Her boyfriend said everything was fine when he left for work this morning, but when she didn't show up at her own office, people started to get worried. After neighbors dialled 999, we were called.\"\n\n\"Well, we have to pull the plug on her pretty soon or when she pops we'll be...\"\n\n\"Yes, I know,\" said Polly, completing my thought. \"I've put in a call to all the right people, but nobody has answered yet. They are probably watching the news. The telly has at least a dozen helis in orbit about the place.\"\n\n\"Call Richard and have him pull the plug on my authority,\" I said, knowing full well that I had neither the authority nor the right to terminate a conversion without approval.\n\n\"But, Sir,\"\n\n\"Do it!\"\n\nBut it was too late. The telly showed ten thousands wombs burst open at once, expelling babies at impossible velocities in a horror of gore and smashed humanity.\n\nBefore the end, she'd been heard to say, \"I just wanted to have a baby!\"\n\n",
"Goddammit. What a rookie mistake.\n\nThe tires screeched as I took the turn onto Madison a little too fast, the light turning from yellow to red as my company van passed underneath it. I nodded to the cop sitting at the head of the line of traffic. The \"Goof Troop\" logo took up most of the side of my van. The cop nodded back, knowing I must be on my way to an emergency.\n\nI was. But it was my emergency. How could I be so stupid?\n\nWe all do it. It's like a cheat sheet. Hell, I'd been building my collection for the last ten years; ever since I landed the job of Body Tech with GT. You come across aesthetically pleasing images and snippets during the course of your career and you add them to your \"bag of tricks\" so to speak. Comes in handy when some dope has so hopelessly mangled himself, that you need a sample of what human male abdominal muscles actually look like. Or when some housewife thinks she needs a slimmer waist and erases herself down to a drinking straw.\n\nMy bumper knocked over a garbage can as I slammed the van into park. I ran up the stairs to the apartment I had just left 20 minutes ago and poked the doorbell urgently. \n\nWhat answered the door was not the woman whose legs I'd smoothed from cinder-block looking monstrosities after she had spectacularly failed in her attempt to remove her own cellulite. \n\nNo, what answered the door was Julia Roberts. At least her face was. Except the eyes were wrong. Her eyes looked more like Uma Thurman's.\n\nI recognized her breasts as Scarlett Johansson's. The legs were definitely either Taylor Swift's or Charlize's and her derriere had to belong to Nicki Minaj. \n\nShe seemed to fill the doorway, towering over me and smirking. \n\n\"Look,\" I said. \"You can keep all your upgrades. But can I please just have my jumpdrive back?\"\n\n",
"Outlaws. \n\nIt all started with Dr. Jake Fredrik's unusual capability to think outside the box. He was a very unorthodox surgeon who believed that repair was coming to an end and that enhancement would be the all spark of the new age. In the lowest portion of the building was a dark, cool space reserved for the temporary corpses: the Operating Room. Dr. Fred would spend days without sleep just to be near his subjects, allowing their pain and regret to take over him. It fueled his passion to create, to give life, to change the world we knew for the better. That is the moment when it hit him, like a two-by-four to the forehead. Why hadn't he thought of this before? This could change the way surgery is done for the rest of time. Corrective surgery without the need for incision! No more scars, no more blades, no more tools and clamps and tables, no more emergency rooms overwhelmingly cramped because of how long it takes to triage illness! \n\n*But what would he call it.* \n\nHe groaned as he coddled the newborn; his most recent failed attempt at saving a life with his bare hands which he now saw inadequate in the light of his invention. \n\nFast forward to current time: here I am just trying to help this moron who tried to do parkour like the more fortunate morons on YouTube who don't fall off the building and break their collarbone. You see, when Dr. Fred decided to change the world, what he didn't realize is the cost of his monopolized company product that had revolutionized medicine as we know it, made it very difficult for the average Joe to go to the ER without leaving with a new subsidized loan. \n\nSo here we are. The Rescue Artists. \n\nMy extraordinarily intelligent brother Marcus created the first personal computer that can run Dr. Fred's software on the go. Being a business that we keep \"underground\" so to speak, we get all kinds of calls from people. From genetic mutations to car accidents, broken bones to lung cancer, and we can heal it! The problem is, it's illegal. We pirated Dr. Fred's software and practice on patients for just enough to keep the lights on in the apartment. Personally, I like to think we're a hybrid Robin Hood-Jesus. Healing the poor to starve the rich type deal. But we're hunted every day, and the pressure is getting worse. \n\n*Will we ever convince the board of Medicine that health care shouldn't kill people with debt? Or will we be brought to justice for our vigilante healing shenanigans.* ",
"Terry jerked awake as his phone went off across the room. Wiping a glob of spit from the side of his mouth, he sat up. And almost toppled back as his head spun and his brain started pounding against the inside of his skull. With a groan, he raised a hand to his temple and massaged it. As the pain faded—ever so slightly—he pushed himself upright.\n\nSomething clattered to the floor as he got to his feet. He glanced back and saw an empty bottle of Smirnoff spinning on its side. He let out another groan at the sight and staggered to the dresser across the room.\n\n*One Unread Message – Kim*\n\nWiping at his eyes, Terry opened the message. \n\n*Hey, Terry, hope you're feeling well. It was a shame you didn't come into the office yesterday; we had a little celebration for Glenn's engagement. It's about time he and Derek tied the knot, right? :P*\n\n*Anyway, I figured you're not coming in today either, so I've attached the list of your appointments for today. Let me know if you can't make any of them*\n\n*Oh, and make sure you save the data files of the new faces, so we can keep track of them. Someone else got theirs stolen yesterday—that makes five this week. That's the last thing anyone needs. You know how little the police care: they'll lock up anyone with a multiple—just in case they're a Masked One.*\n\n*You've never changed your face though, right? You should be okay... Just watch out for the customers, okay?*\n\n*You should really come back in soon. Sarah keeps asking about you...*\n\n*Anyway! Not my business. Sorry. I just thought I'd pass the sentiment along.*\n\n*Thanks for your work as always!*\n\n*Kelly*\n\nThe list wasn't long: only four appointments. Kelly must be taking it easy on him. *Oh well,* he thought, *I ain't complaining*.\n\nHe staggered into the bathroom and turned the shower on full-blast. As it warmed up, he inspected his face in the mirror.\n\nBlack, short, straight hair. Blue eyes. Angled cheekbones. Rounded jaw. Thick eyebrows. Thin nose.\n\nEverything as he remembered.\n\nYou could never be too careful these days; people could do some nasty stuff if they got into your InterFACE.\n\nHe got in the shower and cleaned up as best as he could. His head pounded with every drop of water that landed on it, but he scrubbed at his face—trying to ignore it.\n\nTwenty minutes later, after a quick shave and a hurried, shabby selection of clothes, he stumbled downstairs. The door at the bottom of the stairs opened out onto the street, right next to the entryway of the small cafe below his room.\n\n\"Large black with two, and a bacon and egg roll—extra greasy!\"\n\nTerry smiled as he stepped into the cafe and took his usual order from Lana—the woman who owned the place. She gave him a smile as she handed it over and Terry found himself inspecting her face again.\n\nLight brown hair. Thin eyebrows. Green eyes. Narrow features.\n\nPeople would pay hundreds for a face like that...\n\nShe was beautiful.\n\n\"Thanks,\" Terry said, catching himself. \"I'll pay you this afternoon, yeah?\"\n\nShe gave him another bright smile. \"Of course. I'll put it on the tab.\"\n\nTerry raised his aluminium-wrapped roll in thanks as he stepped out of the cafe.\n\nHe walked down the street, trying to open his roll with two free fingers while not spilling his coffee. He let out a sigh of delight as the rush of grease and egg filled his mouth, washed down with the strongest coffee this side of the river.\n\nAs he continued on towards the station, he began inspecting faces.\n\nDyed green hair. Piercing in the left nostril. Too-bright blue eyes—had to be contacts. High cheekbones. Thin.\n\nRound face. Fatty—but not overweight. Frown lines. Crumpled nose. \n\nMissing tooth, still smiling though. Large ears. Visible nose hair. Nose itself looks crooked.\n\nBlack, short, straight hair. Blue eyes. Angled cheekbones. Rounded jaw. Thick eyebrows. Thin nose.\n\nRed hair. Round nose. Chiselled jaw. Must workout.\n\n*Wait...*\n\nHe stopped mid-step and turned around.\n\n*What was that...*\n\nHe spotted a face, looking back at him.\n\nBlack, short, straight hair. Blue eyes. Angled cheekbones. Rounded jaw. Thick eyebrows. Thin nose.\n\nNo doubt about it.\n\nHis blood ran cold.\n\nThe face smiled. Nothing like Lana's smile. Amused. Twisted. Cruel...\n\nThe face turned away and melted into the growing crowd. Terry glanced around, wondering if anyone else had noticed. No signs that they had.\n\nHe set off at a run, throwing his breakfast in the nearest bin. The crowd pushed back at him. People swore and shoved.\n\nAfter a minute or so, he burst into an open space, in front of an up-market clothing store. The doorman gave him a confused look as Terry glanced around in a panic.\n\nThere. Across the street.\n\nThe face looked back at him, the same grin on its face. It held up a phone, shook it, and pointed at him.\n\nOn cue, Terry felt his phone vibrate. Hands trembling, he opened it.\n\n*There's nothing you can do.*\n\n*It's already begun. And it's already over.*\n\nHe looked up, searching for the face, but it was already gone. With a sense of foreboding, he read the last line of the message.\n\n*Your face is ours.*\n\n",
"\"Hey Steve? This is Luke from Dispatch, we got another one for you before you end your day.\"\n\n*What the hell is it now. I'm off in half an hour! If I could just get my hands around Luke's neck I'd...* \n\n\"Hey Luke! Whatchya got for me?\"\n\n\"Can't really say Steve. He wanted to keep it private. He swore up and down it's not a prank call, but just didn't feel comfortable saying it.\"\n\n\"Alright, make me a work order. I'll be right there.\"\n\n*Dammit, Laura is cooking taco's tonight too. Meat's gonna be cold and all the toppings put away by the time I get home. This better be good. Tired of dealing with idiots who mess up by trying to make a chiseled jaw line, a six pack of abs, or even worse, some fool tries to increase the size of his ding-a-long. Ah, this must be the guy right here.*\n\n\"Hi, did you call our emergency line?\"\n\n\"Yes, I did.\"\n\n\"Well hi, I'm Steve, I'm going to be your artist today. Now just tell me, what happened? Try to cheat your workout by just increasing the tone in your arms?\"\n\n\"Well, no, you see...\"\n\n*You'd figure in a world like this everything would be thought of already. No need to be embarrassed, but I should still make him feel comfortable.*\n\n\"Just tell me, bud. I've seen it all, trust me. What's your name, anyways?\"\n\n\"I'd rather not say, I'm under the work order as John Doe, but all my billing information is correct. I promise.\"\n\n*Dammit guy, just let me do my job and get home.*\n\n\"That's fine, bud. What happened? I'm here to correct it, I promise. But I can't do that until I find out what's wrong.\"\n\n\"Well, I tried... uhm... haha... this is embarrassing, I tried changing my pecker into a lady part.\"\n\n*Hahaha, you've gotta be kidding me. I've never had a call like this before. Chalk this one up as a story to tell the boys.*\n\n\"Oh, I'm going to need to see the damage sir.\"\n\n\"Well, you see, I don't want you to change it back, I want to keep it, I just want it to look better.\"\n\n*As if it couldn't get any more weird.*\n\n\"Okay, well, let me see what I can do.\"\n\n*Holy crap, I'm not sure what the hell happened here but this guy was sure as hell not trained in the program. I don't get paid enough for this job.*\n\n\"Okay, all done. Best I could do, man.\"\n\n\"Thank you so much.\"\n\n\"Oh, you're welcome! That's what I'm here for. It was nice meeting you... uh...\"\n\n\"Oh, call me Caitlyn.\"",
"It started off well: a invention that made people look how they wished, made them feel comfortable in their bodies. There were professionals, you would tell them what you want, and maybe give them a rough sketch. After a couple of hours you were a new person. \n\nBut people got greedy. Instead of paying thousands of dollars to get a professional to alter their body they wanted to pay thousands of dollars for a machine that would allow them to alter themselves. This wasn't a good idea and after a year or two something had to happen to fix this.\n\nThat is what spawned the \"rescue artists\". We didn't really have a real name, but our job was basically to fix all the mistakes everyone made. That's what I was, along with all the other professional artists that lost their jobs when the \"BodyShop\" (creative ripoff of photoshop, I know,) went retail.\n\nIt was a simple machine to operate. Step in side so it could take a 3D image of you. Fix what you want about your body on the convenient interface, and then step back inside and wait. After an amount of time, depending on how many changes you made you would be a changed person. The procedure wasn't painful, in reality you felt nothing at all.\n\nSome people didn't do to much, smooth a couple wrinkles, get rid of an annoying birthmark, trivial things like that. There were also the amazing artists. When you would see some sort of hydra walking down the street you would be able to classify that group. And then there were the talentless, greedy people. These people were the problem.\n\nI saw about half a dozen people everyday. There were people who managed to give themselves an extra limb. They were an easy fix, just some precise erasing and poof, good as new. There were the people who got a little trigger happy with the erase tool. Some of them were smart enough to bring in their original file. CTRL+Z, poof, done. The others were a bit trickier as I had to redraw what they say they originally looked like. Other than that there were few oddities but it wasn't too much work.\n\nBut today I saw something that I hadn't seen before, something I had no clue how to fix. The door slid open but I didn't see anyone come in. \"Hello?\", I yelled, \"Who's there?\" That is when I saw him, a crudely drawn sick figure, invisible when you looked at him from his side. I scanned my mind for what to do, all the problems I've fixed before were in 3D. I came up with nothing so I asked him. \"What happened?\"\n\n\"I have no clue, if I did I wouldn't have come here you idiot.\"\n\n\"But how did you become 2D?\"\n\n\"I don't know, I followed the instructions.\"\n\n\"But the program wouldn't allow you to become 2D.\"\n\n\"Oooooh, about that. The default program was too confusing so I downloaded MS paint.\"\n\n\"WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU DO SOMETHING SO STUPID.\"\n\nI knew I pushed it too far with that, he was in tears. I couldn't hear his response but I knew it would be something about how much he regretted it. And then an idea sparked in my mind. I would have to recreate him from entirely from scratch. \n\nYou might think this is an easy task, that I've done it before on a lesser extent. You would be wrong because the BodyShop isn't cross compatible. I would have to remake him completely. But I would have to do it in paint.\n"
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[WP] Everyone has a different superpower, but it can only be used 3 times in your entire life. What is your power, and how did you spend your uses?
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"I wanted it so bad. I craved and hungered for it so much I cried. Why couldn't I reach it? Then it happened, I was suddenly eye level with what I desired. My feet dangling 6 feet in the air. I grabbed the jar with mixed feelings of joy and confusion. I landed with a soft thud, and I think to myself! 'I can fly? I can FLY!' I jumped and again I flew. All these treasures in this cave are no longer out of my reach! I flew over the treacherous lava fields and mounds of treasure, for there was but one treasure I desired. I can see it now, laying on its mantle, the Wand of Desire. I swooped down gazing at the sight. It is at last mine, I smiled as I flew one last time to the couch, turned on the TV with cookie in hand. \n\nAnd Doctor, that is how I used my superpowers, give me a break, I was 3, and those were good cookies.",
"The first time I had used my power, I was young and wanted to help the world. The Three Cities Hotel was ablaze and a woman ran from one firefighter to the next screaming that her child was still in the building. The flames licked high and burned so hot that the likelihood of the child surviving was minimal but when she approached me I just had to help. Her panic and tears moved me into action and I wasn't even there to battle the flame, just happened to be there. I scanned the building, seeing through the walls. Almost every room was void of human form but there, on the fourth floor, huddled in the closet of room 418 was a small child. He was still moving, still alive. I informed several of the fire fighters of the kids location and he had been extracted alive, though not completely without scars. \n\nThe second time I used my power was 3 decades later when I was in my 50s. A man approached me asking if I would be interested in a job. Turned out he knew who I was and my ability as he has hacked the Pentagon database and got my information. Lucky me, I was the only person in the area with x-ray vision and was, at the time, in desperate need of money. The man wanted me to be the eyes of a bank heist. The pay was more than well worth it. \n\nNow at the age of 93, I am going to use my power for the third and final time. Whistling I unfold the lawn chair and unpack a backpack. Sandwiches, snacks and drinks litter the ground around me when I finish. It had taken months to find the perfect place. Readjusting my chair, I grin. I stare at the cement wall in front of me and let my power flow. I'll admit it was selfish but damn, I'm old the the babes are hot when they are dripping wet with clean soapy water. "
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Make it descriptive as possible!
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[WP] You die, and are sent to a place of your own creation. Describe your personal heaven.
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"The other car was mere centimeters away and closing in towards me by the second. Time slowed and the car kept going, instant by instant. No matter what I did, no matter what way I turned the wheel, no matter what pedals I held down, it was inevitable. The little blood that had not rushed from my face soon will. Forever. \n\nI felt my body jerk forward into something soft. Probably an airbag deployed after I crashed. One thing's for certain, though. I'm saved. I smile at myself between the softness before looking up. A field of airbags, as far as the eye could see. \n\n*\"Wait,\"* I thought to myself. What is this? When I looked up, I expected to see a shattered windshield, and damaged car on the other side. I'm not injured at all, so I'd get out and see if the other driver was okay. Either I'd see that, or I'd be seeing the horrible lights of a hospital. Or enormous pearly gates. Maybe even a fiery, horrifying hellscape. Something becoming of \"dead\" or \"not dead.\" \n\nBut this? What is this? It's a field full of airbags. It's a field full of the last wish I ever had when dying. This is heaven. Whatever stupid, idiotic god thought *this* is my idea of heaven should lay off the drinks. \n\n*\"At least,\"* I thought to myself, *\"At least it isn't hell.\"*\n\n",
"\"Is this it?\", I wonder as an inescapable darkness surrounds me. A panic consumes my consciousness as I grasp for just a sliver of light desperately. \"No... This can't be.\" The realization that I was to be imprisoned in my own dark, empty consciousness dawned on me. \"Come on Daniel, take a second to think...\" I said out loud to nobody but myself. The darkness seemed to devour the sound as it left my mouth. I take a deep breath and try my best to clear my mind of all thoughts, fears and concerns. Suddenly a line flashes through the darkness, then another, and more after that. Red, green, blue and yellow lines shooting across all around me. These colours were like nothing I had ever seen before, they are shockingly vibrant, bright and clear. The coloured lines seem to make shapes and tell little stories. I see the outline of a red elephant romping in the green grass.\n\nThen it hits me. This is just like what happens during my relaxation exercises as I fall asleep every night. I wonder what else I can create. In an instant my vision is flooded with green lines, these lines form into a beautiful green field. I can feel the green, vibrant grass between my toes. This field is overlooked by more of the deep blackness and nothing more. I lay down on the grass and watch as blue fills my vision, followed by patches of white. I stand up and look at what i've just created. A beautiful empty field on a sunny day. \"Seems a bit empty\" I say to myself. Mountains shoot up from the ground in the distance followed by trees, flowers and a lake just in front of me.\n\nI spot a hammock tied to two trees to my left. I lay back on it and look out at the river outlined by mountains. \"This will be a good place to rest\".\n\n",
"I close my eyes for the last time and sink slowly into the darkness of my mind. There is nothing here. Is this all that death is? \n\nWait! What's that?! \n\nAn arc of light. It's a door. I reach for the handle but the door opens of its own accord. A blinding light shines through and as I walk towards it I begin to fall. \n\nDown. \n\nDown. \n\nDown. \n\nAll of a sudden I'm sitting in the saddle of my trusty raptor stead! We start running across the vast pink hillside. \n\nHang on a minute, hills aren't pink! \n\nI climb down off my raptor, who now has a magnificent moustache and is wearing a top hat and monocle. I reach down and touch the ground. It's so soft and smooth. Such a wonderful feeling. Nothing compares to it, it can only be a magnificent pair of breasts! And not just one pair! Dozens! In all sizes! This can only be heaven!\n\nAs I roll down the bosom hills it begins to rain. But not just any rain, the most succulent, juicy pulled pork is falling onto meadows of rare steak with bacon legs! I bite into it, letting the juices run into my Gandalf-esque beard. \n\nOnce I have had my fill, I dive off Mount Fuji into the hot springs and engage in a snowball fight with the local monkey population. \n\nAs the fight draws to a close I leap onto my Heritage Softail and beautiful blonde black belt babe hops on the back and wraps her arms around my waist as we ride off down Route 66 and into the golden sunset where we forge exquisitely ornate weaponry. A sword with elven runes carved into the blade and the evenstar embedded in hilt of the finest dragonwood. A double headed battle axe which flows green as it slices threw the air. We battle playfully before making our bed in the clouds, cuddled up like two Tasmanian devil joeys. ",
"\"Hey man welcome to Heaven!\" This came from the mouth of someone who looked to be in his early twenties.\n\n\"Who are you? Where am I? Did... did I die?\" The new arrival was mortified, as they usually were.\n\n\"Yup! 'Fraid so\" the young man gave the new arrival a cheery look and pointed his thumb back towards what seemed to be a large ranch house with some deep woods in the back. \"Let me give ya the ground tour.\" The young man made some small talk with the arrival, named Josh, as he led the way. \"Alrighty Josh, this is the community house, everything you see here feel free to use. We have several band rooms with recording equipment, stocked with guitars, drums, bass guitars, hell even a few keyboards if that's your thing.\" The young man, whom Josh found out was named Kyle, smirked at that last remark. \n\n\"Kyle, is it?\" The man nodded his head \"Who are you? Are you God or something?\"\n\n\"Ha! God? No, although I did create this world apparently I guess people with similar interests come into my world when they pass!\" Kyle gave a shoulder shrug and a face that said \"why not\". \"Over here we have our live DJ's.\" A tall kid with dirty blonde hair gave a big smile and thumbs up as Kyle walked by.\" we have every song from every genre feel free to play whatever you like, no FCC here. And just down the hall we have our gaming rooms, fitted with all consoles and the comfiest gaming chairs out there.\"\n\n\"Um how many people live here?\"\n\n \"Right now it's just us three, me, you, and that guy in the booth was, Luke, I died first, followed shortly by him, actually we knew each other in real world, I expect there'll probably be 6-7 more coming along.\"\n\n\"Over in that wooded area out past that wooden deck, we have our camping forest, feel free to spend some time either alone or with us other two any time!\"\n\n\"Now although we cant get hunvry, we can get food, and we can still taste, so we have a baller kitchen that can whip up anything you like, or you can make it yourself if you like to cook! Now I know that was a lot to take in but have a great time, i'm going to play some guitar.\" And for the first time in his life, Josh felt at home.\n\n\n"
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[WP] You post a Writing Prompt which garners thousands of upvotes, but not one single story. With just hours before the post slides off the front page and into obscurity, you submit your tale.
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"I'd been attempting to raise the bar in Writing Prompts, by submitting not just prompts that would be popular, but prompts that would *challenge* the writers. I wanted to create prompts that made the denizens of writing prompts *think* and *extend* themselves beyond lazy comedy and obvious plot twists. \nMy first few attempts had been failures; downvoted quickly and destined to eventually be deleted in shame - a testament to the state of malaise that permeated the sub, where anything *different* was brutally stomped down before it could take wing and soar through the imagination of dozens of eager writers. \nCrafting such a prompt was an art in itself; such a thing could be ruined by something as simple as timing. By publishing it in my own daylight hours, I would miss the hordes of eager Americans, hovering over New and Rising, waiting for the prompt that would bag them staggering amounts of Karma for very little net effort - or creativity. \nThe account would also have to be a new one; no bitter comment feuds or jealous downvotes could impede the progress of the prompt. It had to appear spontaneous, raw and unpolished. A concept in the purest form, waiting for a singular talent to do it justice. \nI'd considered courting controversy to embolden the masses; perhaps something topical, like a prompt about the recently banned subreddits. Or something about Caitlyn Jenner. \nBut an *enduring* prompt, a *memorable* prompt and a *legendary* prompt needed to be an over-arching concept that not only captured the imagination of readers and writers, but also could be read and re-read over the years and be upheld as *the* perfect example of a writing prompt. \nNo time travel, no Hitler. No god, gods or devils. Batman and the Potterverse should be the last thing on the minds of the readers and gimmicky restrictions shouldn't be placed on the writers. \nFor weeks I planned and plotted. I studied the styles and preferences of the popular authors. I pored through their vanity subs and plumbed their weaknesses. There would be no 'fastest gun in the west' success stories here; only *talent* and *ingenuity* would triumph. \nHowever they might wish to belt out a tawdry, two thousand word story and ride the Karma train to multiple golds, they must be unable to do so with this prompt. \nFinally I was ready. \nMy moment arrived and I posted; then waited patiently for a response. \n\nAs anticipated, the prompt rocketed through Rising and breached the frontier of the front page within minutes. \nAs though anticipating the success already, copycat prompts appeared soon after. \nBut still no one posted to it. \nTenth place. Seventh place. *Third place*. \nStill nothing. \nAs the hours crept by, I drank my fifth coffee. Nearly a thousand upvotes now, but not even a joke response graced the thread. By midnight it supplanted the top post and continued to gather votes faster than new prompts could appear. \nIt was too early to claim success. Yes, I had dissuaded the usual suspects from their hasty and hackneyed responses, but in doing so I had likely stymied *all* the watching writers from attempting to craft a tale worthy of the prompt. \nI was tired; my eyes burned from refreshing the white page over and over. Only the WritingPromptsRobot greeted me every time the page reloaded. \nMy bed called and with a last F5, I slunk off to wrap myself in clean sheets and hopefully awaken to a magnum opus of mythic proportions. \n\nIn the early hours of the morning I stirred, remembering something momentous was taking place. A lazy arm hooked my smartphone off the dresser and I thumbed the screen open. The bright screen opened to only disappointment. \nThere were still no responses. \nI began my morning routine and continued to check the prompt, but it did nothing but slip down the page. \nTenth place. Fourteenth. Twenty third. \nMy knuckles in my mouth, I realised it would soon be gone. *My* magnum opus of prompts had gleaned no stories. The siren call I had sent out to the writers of the world had gone unanswered; no literary shipwrecks littered the shoals of my prompt; only the soughing of empty digital winds and the creeping entropy of downvotes and time. \nIt couldn't end like this. \nI wouldn't *let* it end like this. \nHauling my keyboard into my lap I started typing with frenzied passion before I could change my mind, before I could regret it. If I was lucky, I could enshrine my prompt in the history of writing prompts with an equally legendary response. \nThe minutes roared past as my fingers flew. I typed with such force and such abandon that the polish on my nail tips fractured; coating the worn keys with a sprinkling of holographic lacquer. *Magic dust for a magic tale* I thought to myself. \nAnd then, in a suddenly anticlimactic moment, it was done."
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Trying to keep it open enough for creativity :) Look forward to reading them.
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[WP] You live in a world where at age 18 onwards, any blood that touches your skin is permanently stained and cannot be washed off.
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"We all had blood stains; from falling, accidents, or just hangnails. I always thought that doctors had it the worst. Even with their gloves and protective gear, it always found a way. I wasn't so sure anymore.\n\nI saw him that night, sitting in front of a shop. At first I didn't think him human. Few of us have so much blood, but when he looked up at me, I could not deny it. Every flesh of skin that I saw was red; his face, nose, lips, even eyelids, and it did not seem to stop at the edge of his clothing either. He was wearing dirty, old clothes, and looked to have had better days. All at once emotion came over me. I always was quite empathetic, but looking at this poor man, I was overcome. To face so much pain and suffering, I could not imagine what it must have been like. \n\nI started to angle towards him, to offer him comfort, when a thought crept into my mind. *\"What if he chose that life? What if he is a killer or rapist or some other kind of criminal?\"* The feelings of sorrow came over me like a gentle breeze, but this was like a hammer. Terror gripped my mind, and I pretended like I had stumbled; like I hadn't been about to walk up to him. I walked past him fearing for my life, conscious of every movement he made, and every shake of terror that ran through me. After I walked around the next corner, I rushed into the closest shop.\n\nIt was an old shop, dusty and decrepit, full of porcelain plates and wooden carvings, all sitting on the shelves. When my eyes finally found the shopkeeper, he was staring at me expectantly, waiting for some sign. When I gave none, his eyes grew colder, and he started to walk around the desk. \"This is a fine shop you've got here\" I said as calmly as I could, shoving down my fear.\n\nHe was around the desk now, walking towards me, and his eyes were staring daggers. I started to back up, but stumbled over a small wooden figurine and fell flat. He reached me as I was getting up, and shoved me to the ground, hard. His hand was reaching for one of the figurines on the table when the door opened beside me, and a man entered the shop. I could only see his face, because the door opened inward and towards me, but it was enough. I saw his dirty, dry brown hair falling down to the top of his blood-red ear.\n\nHe shoved the shopkeeper back, before closing the door and looking at me. I had avoided his gaze on the streets, his discolored skin drawing the eye. At first, his face was like a man at someone's child who fell. Then he recognized me, and his gaze hardened. I had walked by him on the street, ignoring his suffering. He opened the door, paused for a moment, reconsidered my pleading eyes, but walked out. Then the shopkeeper came at me with the figurine, aiming at my head.\n\n\"And that is the last thing I remember officer, before awakening in this hospital. \"\n\"I see,\" he responded, \"Thank you, that'll be all. Hope you get well\"",
"Today I become a grown-up. Today is my day.\n\nI walk up to the courtyard. My family and friends are there, waiting for me. Some are cheering, some are sad, some are both.\n\nI loosen my robe, let it fall on the ground. Some of the women turn their eyes away. The light breeze makes my bare skin shiver.\n\nAs I walk into the pool of ox blood, I mutter to myself what my father told me.\n\n\"Pink is the color of children. Red is the color of man.\" "
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[WP] For thousands of years, the alphabet has lived in peace under the rule of the vowels. One day the consonants decide to rebel. Write about this civil war.
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"Our war has been long, it has been bloody, it has been destructive, but it has been worth it. For thousands of years we have lived under their rule, we have agreed to their terms and their rules, but in reality, we have always had the power. It was only until recently that we figured it all out.\n\nThe vowels dominated the consonants. We fell to their knees, we fell to their power and we begged for forgiveness. For thousands of years we lived begging for our lives.\n\nUntil recently when we finally figured it out.\n\nIt was a slow burn, the sparks of the rebellion took years to create a true fire. The Z's were the first. Their revolution over the A's was brutal. Thousands were killed, X's and W's were dragged into the fires. Hundreds were hanged for harboring the fugitives. Entire areas were closed off.\n\nAnd then the B's struck.\n\nThe C's follower closely after. Then the D's, F's, G's, and so on. Until the entire Consonant Confederate had revolted against the regime of the Vowels. Until the entire world was in flames, until ash covered our planet and until every available Consonant was armed and ready to fight. The entire world was at war.\n\nExcept for the Y's.\n\nYou know how the old saying goes, how sometimes a Y is a Vowel. Well, they were offered peace, security, wealth, and power in the name of fighting for the Vowel Regime. For years, they lived in peace and security. They lived with a false sense of security and love that we, the Consonants, had never felt. They lived in peace until the burning began.\n\nFrightened by our possibility of winning, and the destruction of their Regime, the Vowel's decided to burn the world. They did not discriminate, they did not stop, they continued a slaughter that eventually reached the area of the Y's. They decided to burn the Y's, inside the safety of their world of peace.\n\nThe Z's courage sparked the fires of rebellion. The fires of rebellion engulfed our world. And when our world was engulfed, the Vowels became paranoid, insane with power, and decided to burn everything in their paths. The Y's split in two. The Loyalists and the Separatists. Several million joined us, several thousand joined the Vowel Regime.\n\nWe will not be another Regime. We will not lose this war. We will not be beaten down again. And we will not beg for forgiveness. We will fight.\n\nAnd we will not discriminate.\n\nJoin the Consonants. Or Join the Ashes.\n\n__________________________________________________________________________\n\nI actually mentioned this in a Meet/Greet last week! I wrote a child's version of this when I was in elementary school. I'm pretty happy with this version, more than 8 years later. /u/Gurahave, I delivered! Hope it lives up to the expectations.\n\nThanks for the prompt!",
"\"Come comrade consonants,\" C called. \"Crush cancerous criminal czars.\"\n\n\"We won't win,\" W warned. \"Without willpower.\"\n\n\"Rebel right,\" R replied. \"Rip rascal ringleaders ragged!\"\n\n\"But bosses bestow basic benefits,\" B backtalked. \"Buddies bother brooding blowoff?\"\n\n\"Xylophone,\" X xeroxed.\n\n\"Vowels,\" V voiced. \"Verily, VIP ventures vacillate. Vile villains vex!\"\n\nAnd thus began the war on vowels. The only casualty was the letter ß, but from what I hear, he wasn't doing much anyway.",
"\"Beta, you *traitor*.\"\n\nAlpha Prime spit the words out as though they tasted of poison.\n\n\"It's Bravo now.\"\n\n\"Ah, of course it is. Yet here you are, still speaking the tongue we taught you. Worried I won't understand your rebel code.\"\n\n\"No, I-\"\n\n\"Or are you worried that I *will*?\"\n\nThe vowel moved to stand and Bravo's guards twitched their trigger fingers, weapons trained on the kneeling man. Bravo held up his hand to stop them. They drew no closer, but kept themselves at the ready. Before he could issue a formal order, Alpha spoke once again. This time he issued a series of sharp clicks and guttural sounds.\n\n\"He's right, friends, the last Prime is no threat to me in these chains. You may leave. I will speak with him alone; this *traitor* owes him that much.\"\n\nReluctantly, the rebel soldiers took their leave. Only when they shut the doors behind them did their leader speak again. \n\n\"Your Percussian is terrible. Frankly though, I'm surprised you learned it at all.\"\n\nAlpha chuckled through his nose.\n\n\"I always made it a point to know my subjects. I thought I knew them well. I thought I knew you.\"\n\nFor the first time, Bravo broke Alpha's gaze.\n\n\"Then again,\" the vowel continued, \"I've been wrong about a lot lately, not just you. Wallace and Yvonne were never the most loyal, but I truly thought that my ambassadors would remain neutral. I never that this rebellion, as you call it, would grow so large, and I never, *never* thought that you'd take the Capital.\" he sighed, \"Yet here we are.\"\n\n\"You act like you didn't see this coming. There's been unrest for years. I begged you to listen to the people, to share. We made such beautiful Words together... It's you that threw it all away. Not me.\"\n\n\"We did share! This nations resources have been split fifty-fifty since my great-great-great-great-great-great-great bloody grandfather founded it. The vowels get half and you, the consonants get half. I think that's fair don't you?\"\n\n\"Aye, real fair, except that there's less of you and more of us.\"\n\n\"You never had a problem before, not when you were living in the Capital. I never should have sent you away; let you see what life was like on other pages. Was it Delta that convinced you to bring ruin, did he whisper in your righteous ears?\"\n\n\"Yes. It was Delta, but it wasn't his words, it was the way you silenced him.\"\n\n\"*Silenced him?* You really don't get it do you?\"\n\nWhatever response Bravo had was quickly drowned out by the sound of gunfire. Moments later the doors burst open, kicked in by a tall women dragging a man wearing rebel clothes. They both look decidedly worse for wear. The woman looked up from her captor only to lock eyes with Bravo, who was now standing behind Alpha, a pistol held to the vowel's head. Bravo's eyes darted away momentarily to note the limp figures of his guards slumped outside the door. The Prime broke the silence.\n\n\"Ah, Delta, how nice of you to join us.\"\n\n\"Delta?! But, I saw you...\"\n\n\"What can I say?\" The ragged-looking man shrugged, still held tightly by the woman behind him. \"Things change.\""
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[WP] A young man has the ability to receive messages from his future-self. One day he receives a message that just says "Kill yourself."
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"It doesn't make sense. Then again, none of it makes sense. \n\n\"Kill yourself\". Justin reads his latest message one more time. He gathered his thoughts and then goes through the messages he has received from himself on his phone.\n\nHis life has changed since he first discovered that he could receive messages on his phone from his future self. \"Stay home\". Read his first message which saved his life, Justin was a broker working at the North Tower before 9/11.\n\n\"Buy Apple\" a message of significant importance read the next few message in December 2001. One that would made him the rich man that he is today.\n\nHim meeting the love of his life, possibly his soulmate was also a result of the message he received which simply reads \"Yolanda Fritzgerald\"\n\nBut \"Kill yourself\". It still doesn't make any sense. A man who has everything even with the future at the palm of his hands. \n\n\"What could have caused me to send this?\" He thought deeply.\n\nRecalling the only time he failed to heed his future advise was his fourth message when it said \"Don't Drive\". He was too drunk to care when he read the message. \n\n\"Kill yourself\" he read the message one last time before deciding that this was the best advise he could probably give himself given the circumstances he is not aware of.\n\nHe headed to the roof of his penthouse that night and took one last look at the beautiful skyline. He took his phone with him thinking it's best if he dies with it. He was smart enough to think of a paradox. That if he jumped and dies. Who then sends the message asking him to die? If he doesn't send the final that mean he lives?\n\n\"All will be revealed shortly. There is no mistake. There can't be!\". With one last breath Justin leaped off the roof with but one regret.\n\n\"Kiss Yolanda F\" he hastily typed on his phone to send his last message.\n\n\"Kill yourself\" it read as he reached the ground. Fuck autocorrect.\n\n"
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[WP] Different versions of yourself, from every alternate reality, have been summoned together. And you are the most boring "you" there.
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"The breaking point fractured outward, like geometric ripples in a pond. The rift grew ever more complex, forming mesmerizing patterns. I could have spent eternity locked in a gaze with the shattered mirror, but mere moments passed before my entire existence forcefully shattered, displacing each piece into a bubble around me. I had been ejected from the realm of possible.\n\nTime was not suspended, it failed to exist. I automatically understood infinity. Each splinter of glass held a parallel universe, and I existed in every one of them. The interminable macrocosms began swirling around me. I greedily peered into all that could ever be, unaware of who or what might be observing me. I suddenly felt more vulnerable than I could have ever fathomed. Each shard felt like a scrutinizing eye, taking in every bit of truth, even those which had escaped into the void of my mind. \n\nOne by one, the mirror-eyes blinked and transmogrified into flesh. Strangers, versions of me. Plucked from the timeline of their universe, and dropped into the same peculiar plane of existence. All of my potential, laid out before me. I felt so…ashamed. I couldn’t hide, and I couldn’t lie. They all knew the truth about me. I burned hot with regret when I saw proof of what I could have achieved. All the excuses I ever clung to dissipated. I finally realized I had become a husk of a person, animated but not truly alive.",
"\"Ugh... What the f...\"\n\n\"Hello, Isaac. Pleased to meet me!\"\n\n\"What? You're-\" My vision finally cleared. I could clearly see myself\n Myself a thousand times over. A sea of me.\n\n\"Isaagar!\" A caveman version of me grunted.\n\n\"Isabelle.\" A female version of me held her hand out.\n\n\"Wealthy Isaac... Charmed...\" A posh lookalike of me barely muttered. He didn't even look happy to see me.\n\n\"So what do you do for a living?\" Isaac² asked me.\n\n\"Well, I jump onto buildings to shit on people's cars. You?\"\n\n\"My! How dreadfully boring.\" Wealthy me cut in. \"I work in a tax office.\"\n\n\"I work as a technician.\" Isaac² replied.\n\n\"I farm.\" Isaacgar grunted.\n\n\"I work in a restaurant as a waiter.\" Isabelle started.\n\nI realized although my job seemed fun and exciting,\n\nIt wasn't to these other universes.\n\n*It was normal.*\n\n*To me, everyone had boring jobs.*\n\n#**I am boring.**\n\n*We all are...*"
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[WP] World War III is here and it's not in the way many expected. How did it happen?
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"{4/12/12} {2:41PM} \n\nI didn't think we would make it this far. Ever since the shelling started, we've just been scattered all about trying to make it to a safe place. They just won't stop. Most of my friends are deaf now. Never to hear anything again, thanks to those god damn shells. You know, I fucking watched a woman get shot down by a firing squad yesterday. I don't deserve this. NONE of us deserve this. I can't even fucking THINK straight without them interfering or dropping more bombs on our country! I can't do this today. Not today.\n \n{4/13/12} {3:02AM}\n\nI just watched my neighbors' houses get set aflame by them. I c[INDECIPHERABLE]\n \nThey rounded us up. This is the last entry I can make. They're coming. DON'T TRUST THE AMERICANS! THEY WILL K[INDECIPHERABLE]",
"“A Third Havoc”\n\nThe year is 2039, \n\nUSA is almost completely sheltered off from the rest of the world after gaining the resources needed (violently that is, dont ask how). The rich and powerful are almost happy. But with too much denial of their ever growing debt, corruption and control, and too many American activists, authorities, and embarrassments cannot quit their terroristic attitude and poor mannerisms with in any other place or culture, they must keep living the way they live for fear of change. This causes mayhem for the rest of the world, they team up in order to fight back. But the worse part, America has secretly bought out Russia and Germany due to their massive crumble in recent years. They are now allied. It is the whole world verses Russia, Germany and America. Really the big war ends up between Canada, China, Germany and Russia, America is just there to crumble and burn which, in my opinion, some countries sort of deserve the image of. Im talking 20-30 minutes of story and build-up. Then the rest, just a blood-festive war and cut back to America burning every now and then.\n\n(This is totally satire by the way)"
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Had to delete and resubmit because my tired brain messed up.
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[WP] You unknowingly stop aging and become immortal at 20 years old. 50 years later you're finally getting suspicious that you aren't normal.
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"\"Well he always was a bit dense.\" Said Kathy.\n\n\"A bit dense! HA! A 70 year old man somehow still in the prime of his youth and just now he wonders about it? A bit dense...that's a very kind way to put it. Somebody with a brain should have his fortune, there would be no limit to the good they could do. Why do the half-wits always win the lottery?\" Sue replied, shaking her head.\n\n\"You know I can hear you, right?\" I called from the other room, annoyed at my decrepit and aging younger siblings.\n\n\"Yes of course you can hear me. You don't have hearing aids you dim-witted meathead.\" \n\nSue was always my favorite sister. Perhaps she can be forgiven, it must be difficult to feel the pains of age and watch your brother still bounce around with a spring in his step and not a care in the world. \n\nBut she was wrong about one thing. I intend to do good in this world. Just now I'm packing my bags to get on a plane that will take me to Baltimore where I'll be paying a visit to John Hopkins Medical School. The fabled Fountain of Youth is coursing through my veins and the researchers there are...well to say they are interested is to put it mildly. Maybe we can live forever. \n\n",
"He for a long time had a feeling that something was not right. \"I feel as though most people in my position would be happy to go day by day without aging yet I can't help but worry.\" \n\nHe did not fully understand what was going on but what he did know is that as time went by everyone around him was fading. \"Everyone around me is aging while I sit here looking exactly like I did when I was 20 years old, I am now 70. I have seen both my parents grow old and die, that was hard. I am now seeing the love of my life fade and she is fading fast. I have seen family and friends go, it has never been easy but I don't know that I can bear it anymore. It's like I'm loosing her day by day and there is nothing I can do about it. My children have tried to console me, they will be all of I have after she's gone. That is no consolation because they will one day be gone as well. This is not a blessing but a curse.\"\n\nHe use to believe that the worst part about growing old would be aging but he now knew better. \"How can this be? Why have I been destined to watch everyone I have ever loved die? I know that it may seem selfish, maybe I would not want to go and leave my wife behind but parents are not suppose to outlive their children. I now understand that aging is not the worst thing time can do to us. As the clock ticks, all I can think about is that one day everyone I know will be gone.\"\n\nNo matter how hard he tired, he was slowly running out of hope. \"This world is full of people, maybe one day I can find another wife, create another family. What is the point? I would just be putting myself through this pain again. I would have to watch them age and die as well. I don't know how I am going to get through this, I can't imagine doing it over and over again. This is no way of living, for me there is no hope.\" ",
"\"You really *do* keep in shape huh?\"\n\nThe nonchalant tone in that squeaky voice of my 60 year-old sister-in-law irritated me to no end. Her once beautiful features had been eroded by now, parting for the trenches that lined her face in the form of wrinkles. The web that seemed to restrict her eyes only served to make her seem more friendly in that old age though.\n\nOf course, to such a direct and awkward question, the only approach is to smile, nod and move on, and that was what I did for I myself had much to suspect in that regard. \n\nIt wasn't just that I had aged well or anything. It was more like I *hadn't* aged. 70 years old, in the golden years of my life and yet I barely looked a day over 20. Truth be told, it creeps me out. My wife Layla's honey-glazed eyes flickered brightly even in the well-lit living room. They glanced over me, burned into my very soul, and all I could think of was their beauty. They had mesmerised me back in my youth, and continued to do so even in my \"old\" age. They creased into a smooth smile, her eyes forming thin lines that seemed to accentuate her features. She may not have aged as well as I had, but her everlasting beauty shone through even so. I walked over to her and sat by her side, feeling the gentle warmth that she always seemed to emit. Life felt good.\n\n-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nA year had barely gone by, and yet fate turned its gears in the cruelest of ways. I should have expected that love alone could not overcome the ever-looming threat of death. It had been so sudden. She...she had died staring into the night sky, her petite body snugged comfortably into my embrace. Even if my arm died every time I let her do so, it brought me a certain peace and calm to let her do so. The nights without her were tough, were long, were an *eternity*. Where was the bright woman who always cheered me up? Where was the comedian who loved me with all the passion of a thousand suns? \n\nQuestions, questions. They crept, snuck themselves into every facet of my thoughts, as I began to be plagued by my own seeming youth. Just as shadows sneak their tendrils into the corners of the light, so too did these questions begin to invade my very waking moments.\n\n-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nIt must have been startling, seeing a 170 year old man look 20. His empty eyes betrayed no emotion behind them beyond a certain weariness, a despair that welled itself deep enough within his pupils, his consciousness that there was a sense of being unable to salvage the situation. \n\nA deep, brooding silence hung itself around him like an ever-tightening noose and yet his breath did not halt. His breath never ceased its steady pace, but it always seemed to desire a break. This was not a man who was satisfied with life. This was simply the impatient patience of a mortal man condemned to immortality, to a life without the quiet sanctuary of death."
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[WP] "This isn't your ordinary magic, dear boy."
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"\"Fuck off old man I don't have any money.\"\n\nI turn on my heels and shoulder my way through the crowd, pulling my jacket tight around me as another gust whips through the busy streets of New York City. Watching as newspapers begin to fly away from nearby stands, I reach in my pocket and grab hold of the coins and start counting them off silently in my head. \n\n*10... 15... 32...*\n\n*Good. He wasn't a pickpocketer.*\n\nI let out a small sigh of relief, a puff of white escaping through my lips that grazed faintly against my cheek. \n\n*Just enough for the ride back home.*\n\nAs I readjust the red scarf around my neck, I couldn't help but wonder about that man back there.\n\n*Who was he exactly?*\n\nHe was old, probably around his mid 80s, yet he sure didn't act like it from what I was able to witness. With silver hair tucked under a old, brown cap, his eyes and smile seemed like those of a child. He had a deep, resonating laugh, so joyful in what he did as he practically danced from person to person as he performed his little act. \n\nI remember watching him, a scowl etched across my face, hands just itching to reach over and tear apart the cards in his hands as I stood far off in the back. \n\n\"Now little girl, is this your card?\"\n\nBreaking me from my thoughts, I would watch as the crowd erupted with excitement, so clearly entertained by this petty display of magic as he made his \"grand\" reveal. \n\nAt that point I began to walk away, only to be stopped by the man's hand tugging at my sleeves. \n\n\"Dear boy, might you...\"\n\nI caught his gaze for a moment, a chill running up my spine the very instant they made direct contact. Fearing the worst, I stumbled through my words, not exactly knowing what I was saying at the time. All I knew was that I had to get away from that man. \n\n*\"Fuck off old man I don't have any money.\"*\n\nLooking back on the incident now, I can feel my face burn with shame.\n\nDad would had never allowed me to say such things, especially to a fellow magician. At the thought of him, my frown only deepens, a growl rising inside my throat.\n\n*You're dead. I don't have to listen to you anymore.*\n\n\"Dear boy.\"\n\nI halt in my place, looking up to see the same man from before now face to face with me. Stepping back I glance at my surroundings, suddenly aware that I had wandered to some alley. \n\n\"But I was sure that I...\"\n\n\"Dear boy,\" the man's voice rumbles \"are you the son of the great magician Gremory?\"\n\n\"How do you know my dad?\" I whisper.\n\nHe smiles ever so slightly, a feeling of unease curling tightly inside me despite his warm, friendly gaze. \n\n\"What is your name?\" he proceeds to ask. \n\n\"J-Jack.\"\n\n\"Jack, huh? Well, dear boy, I've heard the news that your father had passed and-\"\n\n\"What could you possibly know about my father?\" I snap \"He's dead. Died as a lowly street performer who cared more about magic than taking care of his only son.\"\n\nI ball my hands into fists, glaring at the man as he shakes his head disappointedly.\n\n\"This isn't your ordinary magic, dear boy.\" he murmurs \"Your father was skilled in ways you couldn't even imagine.\"\n\n\"What are you saying then? Are you actually trying to say that he was a wizard or something?\" I laugh. \n\nThe man looks to me once more, and at that point a sense of urgency seemed to be going off inside my head. Yet before I could utter another sound could I suddenly see a dragon rise up from behind him in the shadows, wisps of smoke curling around him revealing shining red scales the color of blood. It's breath shook the ground around us, golden eyes narrowing into slits as its face stooped down to examine me. Lips curled back to reveal sharp, white teeth the dragon spoke calmly-\n\n\"He sure was.\"\n ",
"\n\nI’ll never forget that frail old man. He had hired me as protection, I was a sword-for-hire in those days. Drifting village to village, seeing things the common man would be astonished by the thought of. But what the old man showed me, even I have trouble believing it was real. \n\nI remember it clearly. I was sitting in a tavern, the name of which I cannot remember, nor does it matter. The old man walked in and made his way straight to me. I could tell he had inquired about me by the way he was looking at me, looking me over head to toe, almost as if he were trying to assess my capabilities, judging my worthiness to accompany him on his quest. He finally made his way over, and i’ll never forget his voice. His voice sounded like the dust that dances off of the pages of a thousand year old book, when you open it for the first time since it was lost forever.\n\n“You are the one I seek, I require your assistance.” \n\nI got up from my seat, and was instantly towering over this old man. I didn’t usually ask what I was being hired for if I wasn’t told, but something seemed odd about this old man. I was intrigued. And before I could say anything else, he pulled a pouch of gold from beneath his robes and held it out to me, his bony hand shaking from the weight of the gold. I took it before he could drop the pouch and scatter gold coins everywhere, I wasn’t in the mood to fight. \n\n“Lead the way,” I told the old man, whose name I still did not know.\n\nHe led me outside of the tavern where there were two horses waiting for us. He hopped on his horse surprisingly effortlessly. And we were off. \n\nWe rode for two days, making camps along the way and hunting for food until we reached the foot the tallest mountain I had ever seen. It was the strangest thing, as we approached I saw nothing but farms and plains as far as the eye could see, then suddenly there was this mountain. \n\n“Leave the horses,” said the old man. \n\nWe began our trek up the enormous mountain, far from any village, and still I did not know what we were after. What could this old man possibly hope to find in this desolate, snowy, lifeless mountain. So I asked him,\n\n“What are you searching for?”\n\n“New life.”\n\nIt was then that I truly began to believe that this old man had me following him around for no reason, how wrong I was.\n\nBy nightfall we had reached the top of the mountain, ahead of us was a shrine of some sort with a statue of a young woman. I stood idly by as instructed by the old man as he approached the shrine. He kneeled before the the statue and put his hands on the ground, and just as he did that the skies began to rumble. I continued to watch as the old man appeared to be saying a prayer, then the ground began to shake with such ferocity that it caused me to lose balance and fall on my side. The old man now glowing in a blue aura of bright light, almost as if he were taking life from the ground. I regained my footing when all of a sudden, the spirits of dead men surrounded both me and the old man, who was still on his hands and knees covered in blue light. Is this why he brought me with him, to fight off the spirits of dead men? I unsheathed my blade as they advanced towards me and fought them off as I would have any other foe, and to my amazement they were being cut down the same as mortal men. I then turned around to check on the old man, who was now floating in the air, and I watched as his limbs were torn from his body, and crushed by the air itself. He fell to the ground a pool of blood and innards, I looked up at the statue whose eyes were now glowing the same bright blue as the old man was before he was killed. I managed to mumble out a few desperate words.\n\n“Please, don’t use your powers of magic to slay me as you have the old man. I yield!”\n\nAnd as if the entire Earth and sky had responded back to me, I heard a booming voice from all around speak,\n\n“This isn’t your ordinary magic, dear boy.”\n",
"\"This is not some trick of the mind or a move of the hand this is actual real magic\"\n\nI was amazed never in all of london have I seen a magician who would preform for any one especially a urchin like me.\n\n\"How does it work? Do you have mirrors or hidden boxes?\"\n\n\"No my boy. It is real magic discovered and used by me and me only\"\n\n\"Wow that's amazing\"\n\n\"Yes, but I am getting old and I need an aprentance to carry on my name and one who I can teach all my tricks.\"\n\n\"Could I be your apprentice\" I ask eagerly \"I can work hard do what needs to be done\"\n\n\"I don't know it would require you to be far away from your parents for a long period of time\"\n\n\"Really, I dont have any parents and my care taker will hardly know my absence\"\n\n\"Well I see no problem with it then. Sure you can be my apprentice\" He says drawing a calk door and opening it.\n\n\"This is to my work shop and in it is all you would need to know\"\n\nI was so excited I rushed passed him and stared into the door. I could not wait.\n\n\"So can I just go in?\"\n\n\"It is yours now is it not?\"\n\n\"Why yes it is\" I say stepping through the door\n\nSoon I realize that I am in some sort of metal container with one window. The magician takes me out of his pocket, Removes a device from the amulet around his neck and puts me in.\n\n\"Ahhhh Fully recharged\"",
"The old wizard had lost his touch at least a decade ago. The thunders he used to summon sounded now like bad farts; the fires from his fingertips could start kindling in the fireplace, but not much more. His clientele had moved on to unwithered wizards. I was assistant and could not leave. He had taken me on as a boy, and taught me all he knew. Almost. \nThree years ago, he closeted himself, even from me. He locked me out of his lab and only emergex to demand supplies: glasswares, mineral powders, coal for the small charm kiln. His lock spells were feeble, but out of love for the old man, I respected them. I continued to run the shop, selling charms and trinkets to passing shoppers, awaiting his passing so that I might begin my own climb to wizardry. \nBefore that day came, though, he emerged from his darkened lab, covered in soot, hacking small black clouds. \"I've done it, boy! It's finished - and so am I...\" And fell over dead, finally overcome by the smokes and gases of his last experiments. His last words to me were \"It's no ordinary magic, dear boy. There's a cord - pull it.\" \nOf course, it was a few days, after calling the leech wranglers and skin binders, and all confirmed his death was as natural as wizards ever got, and the keys to the shop - and the lab - were mine. I entered his lab with sadness and reverence, but was surprised to find clean and nearly empty. What appeared to be a glass candle, enclosed in a hollow crystal ball, was all that remained on his workbench. \nThread of copper lead from it to a box which dangled the cord he had told me of. Hesitantly, I pulled the cord gently, wondering what little thing the old caster had left me. \nThe box clicked. The glass candle glowed. That was all.\nDisappointed, I went out to the shop and began inventorying, planning for making the shop mine. Nightfall came, and I noticed the lab had not darkened. Indeed, it was more brightly lit than any candle should make it. I went in and looked at the glass candle, still sitting just as before, its glow filling the room. \nThen I felt it - or actually, didn't. No magic power went out from me to the candle. No magic breath sighed through the room to feed the glass \"flame\". I felt nothing trickled through the copper threads. Where did the light come from? I examined the candle as closely as I dared. A tiny thread, nearly invisibly thin, glowed in the center of the crystal ball. But I had said no incantation, thought no thoughts of power. The old man could not have done it, he was dead.\nThis truly was no ordinary magic. But it would work for anyone. Any powerless knave with a glass candle like this could have his own light. But was this new magic limited to light? Might it perform other magical tasks? \nI considered what the world would be like if every emptyheaded knave could control magic, and do the wonders now reserved to a studied few. \nI took a brick from the now-cold kiln, and smashed the crystal candle into glittering sand."
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Not too long, curious on the writers of this subbredits take on it
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[WP] what it means to be an American
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"The class had mentioned the usual stereotypes about being American, \"land of the free\" etc., now the teacher asked one of the students who stayed quiet during the entire class to say what *she* thinks it means to be American. The student stands up, looks around, moves her black hair out of her face and speaks: \"Myopia. I mean... We live in a country not even clever enough to come up with its own name, America like the continent, United States like quite a few areas, including frigging Mexico. The government is a bunch of criminals, big business is a bunch of sociopaths, big media is a bunch of narcissists, big religion is a bunch of kiddie fiddlers. We are supposed to look up to them. We are supposed to deride those who sign out of this. Those who try to seek a better world by activism, by psychedelics, or by just opting out of capitalism and live of the land. You call the country the land of the free, but we are not free. We are not free to smoke plants, to use encryption and the deep web, to opt out of being subjected to pointless test after pointless test, which does not measure anything but our ability to do tests! We can have our possessions randomly seized by the police and have to prove our innocence, we have to eat food that violates the standards of any other 1st world country. we are one medical emergency away from a life of debt, our tuition prices are unmatched in the world, we have worse internet access than Latvia, for fuck's sake! But despite this all, we pretend that America is just *great*!\" She sits down.\n\nThe teacher looks at her for a moment, as if stunned: \"Lashandra, see me after class.\"",
"America was founded on adventurers. Creatures of constant movement toward an unknown goal. They heard of foreign, untouched lands and hurled their lives and limbs toward a new life. They survived wilderness, when they had only known civilization. They survived with vicious determination and the stubborn refusal to die, even if it meant the death of others.\nViolent are the survivors of the world, and America survives. So violent that our mostly costly war was with our own brothers. We were baptized in the global wars, and came out stronger than we could ever dream. We looked about a scorched earth and we took the upon the burden of taking the load on our back.\nTo be an American is to have had a youthful spirit crushed with the responsibility of protecting the world. Our history is not always so heroic, we are flawed, as is all things. To be American is to love your country, but always know that it can improve.",
"My Country \n \nMy country is a closed fist learning to open, \na field that is an amber ocean. \nMy country is a golden titan, \nwith deep iron arms and a scripture scrawled belt, \nwhose footsteps shake the ends of the world. \n\nMy country, whose voice is the rumble \nof an ancient train pulling into a station, \nMy country who exhales tornados down its chest \nand spits oil like tobacco chew \ninto the gulf at its feet: \n\nAmerica, how incredible you are! \n \nMy country is a teetering drunken Nephilim, \nswigging old whiskey and swaggering across Its \ndeserts and mountains, lakes and islands, \nvalleys and plains, \nsprawling from ocean \nto ocean. \n \nMy country holds the Northern Lights in Its eyes, \nand the blood of a thousand ruined civilizations in Its veins. \nMy country’s bones are not its own, and though It tries, \nIt cannot pluck every feather from Its unruly hair. \n \nAmerica, how incredible you are! \n \nMy country is a lion of golden grain, \nan earthy giant of pain and revolution, \nMy country is a white marble-crowned \ndark city-stained Mother of the World’s Orphans, \na distant Railroad Father of the World’s most unruly children, \n \nMy country is the great Wind of Western promise \nthat lifts the sails of Its people, \nbearing them across an ocean \nof Its own shameful blood. \n\nAmerica, how incredible you are! \n \nMy country, I have come to love you \nfor all your hateful majesty. \n \nYou who have become \na beautiful menagerie of bone \nand diamond, stained glass and \nStrange Fruit, coal mines and black gold, \nbarbed wire and open plain, mountains and \nskyscrapers, canyons, highways, \nrivers, bridges, graveyards, \nforests, oceans and oceans: \n \nAmerica, you are an Iron Cathedral. \nYour shoulders bear the weight of the world. \n \nI can feel you dying and growing around me, \nyou shudder and fall apart, \nand then you rise, \nand you rise, \n \nWith your head raised and the sun glinting off your cities, \nyour shoulders rolling back like the tides of your Great Oceans \nand you remind me that I was raised on a Mountain, \nthat my Country still sings the Song that wakes the world \nin the great rumbling voice of the West. \n \nFor all that you are, great and terrible, \n \nAmerica, I bow my head: \nI am still in awe. "
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[WP] You secretly become an assassin by trade, keeping your real identity hidden from others. Things go smoothly until you receive a fateful contract-to kill your own self.
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"It was the first of January when I received the letter. A smooth, white envelope containing death itself. Another name. Another fatherless child. Another grieving widow. For eleven years now I have served as an angel of death. You'll have many questions that I'll not be around to answer and you must accept this. I will explain to you what I can but I have little time for writing. There exists within this world of ours true evil. There are those who commit atrocities every day without remorse. Do you know how it feels to take a life? Ah, but I'm getting ahead of myself. There are those who gaze upon the ruins of humanity and do nothing. They sit idly by while the world burns around them. Then, there are those like me. We serve a grim purpose. To enrich all of society through the removal of undesirables. Do you understand? It's a feeling like no other in this world. To hold an entire life within the folds of a finger, and to see it strangled with but a gentle squeeze... But returning to the letter I mentioned previously. All of those years, it had always been someone else's fate sealed in ink. This time, it was my own. I will always treasure the time we had together. Sadly, you could not keep me from becoming the very monster I set out to destroy. There is nothing you could have done to prevent what is about to occur and you must accept this. I loved you once. Now I love but one thing in life, and that is to bring an end to it. Whoever has guided my hand thus far has never lead me astray, and I am afraid I must trust their judgement. By the time you read this, I will have fulfilled my purpose. I hope only to leave the world in a better state for no longer bearing the burden of my existence.\n\nGoodbye forever,\n\nJohn",
"I looked at the photograph in the letter, scanning the image to determine when it was taken, by who, and whether there was any shadow of a doubt who it was.\n\nIt was clearly me. Maybe two years ago at my sister-in-law's birthday party at the bowling alley. The bitch ('Mary') had once again made snide comments about my parenting as well as some other of my failings, and I had to sit there and take it lest cause a scene on her special day.\n\nAs I recall I got a little drunk, but instead of meeting her words with equally snide remarks, I silently began to bowl strike after strike after strike while my SIL, a self-proclaimed bowling champ, watched on stony-faced.\n\nThe person who took the photo was her husband, and I'd been banging that sweet slice of pie since we first met - so it couldn't be him. Her kids were too young to even consider or have the connections to order something like this. No, this was Mary's handiwork.\n\nI incinerated the photo and then the letter after committing it to memory as I did with every hit. The order was to make it as messy as possible; blood everywhere, obvious signs of a struggle.\n\nOh what a bitch, what a stupid small bitch. \n\nI sighed, and grabbed a serrated bread knife that she had passive-aggressively 'gifted' me in an attempt to undermine my cooking during last year's bread sale.\n\n"
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[WP] You are cursed with immortality. Write about your life.
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"Let me tell you a story. One-thousand, nine-hundred years ago, I was born. One-thousand, eight-hundred and eighty-one years ago, I was granted immortality. But let's stop for a second. A thing a lot of people seem to mix-up is that immortality is invulnerability. That isn't true. If I really wanted to, I could kill myself. Someone could kill me in anyway that could kill you, no exceptions. I can starve, be poisoned, get shot, burned, anything. I'm just more resistant to it.\n\nWith that out of the way, let me tell you how I met Paul. Paul is a Djinn, or, genie is what they are referred as now. I'd never seen one before or since, so, I have no idea if they all look like eyeless humans. But Paul did. How we met is odd. I had the night watch in Londinium. Walking with my torch around the perimeter of the city. And sitting on the ground is an oil lamp. Nothing fancy, just a normal lamp with a couple frogs as the design. Typical idiot guy I am, I walk away from my patrol and pick it up. As soon as I pick it up, out comes a pufhimf smoke. Instinctively, I pull out my gladius and ready my scutum. I watch as the smoke flies around, then flies into human shape and changes color.\n\n\"Daemon!\" I hissed, \"What is this sorcery!? I shall have your head!\" In hindsight, I really jumped to a conclusion of demons, but hey, those were simpler times.\n\n\"Woah woah woah,\" he stuck up his hands in mock surrender. \"My name is Paul. I'm not a demon, but I can see how you would think that. I'm a... hmm, I'm not sure Latin has a word for me. I'll make one. How's Gonerare? Anyway, I grant wishes. You found me so I'll grant you some.\"\n\nI squinted my eyes at him. \"Where are your eyes?\"\n\n\"Obviously not in my head. Now are you gonna make a wish or can I go back to sleep?\"\n\nI thought for a moment. I could use money. I could live a life of luxury. Or I could be the Emperor. Rule over the Empire with an iron fist. Or, \"I wish to be immortal.\"\n\nHe stood there. Blank faced. \"Is that all you wish for? You can wish for as much as you want you know.\"\n\nI thought for a second. My immortality could give me plenty of chances to earn money. I could take down the Emperor and be the next one. After all, what's life without the challenge? Don't want to take *all* the fun away. \"I wish my patrol won't notice that I was missing. That is all.\"\n\n\"Lame.\" As he snapped his fingers, I felt a weird tingling in my body. Sort of like the pins-and-needles feeling. But less extreme. A kind of dull tingling. Then it was gone. \"Well, I'm going to sleep now. Last chance.\"\n\n\"Am I completely invulnerable?\" I probably should have asked before that, but stupid Roman me didn't think that far ahead.\n\nHe smirked at me. \"There is a difference between immortality and invulnerability.\" And with that he was gone. \n- - - \nAbout twelve years after, I bet all my money, twelve-thousand gold pieces that I could survive 20 days in an arena. It was hell, but I pulled through. Bloody and battered, I collected my money and left. I went home and went to sleep. The next day I was fine. No evidence that I had just went through endless waves of gladiators and animals. I knew people would notice. So I got out of Londinium as fast as possible. I bought a horse and headed south. Once I reached the coast, I took a boat to Gaul. I lived a while in Lutetia. I kept my head down generally. I made a few bets on how long I could last, but I made sure to make it short. Nothing that would raise suspicion.\n\nI did that in towns all around Gaul until its invasion by the German Franks. I was going to flee to Rome, when I decided that maybe I should stay. After all, if the Germans could take Gaul, they could probably take Rome too. So I stayed. I picked up some German, but not a lot. Slowly, that German turned into something new. A mix of Latin, Gaulic, and German. What would later be called French. It's interesting to hear a language be born. It's mainly people getting lazy. They learn all the languages, and just pick the words that they like to say. Then they get even lazier and words start to sound different as letters are made silent.\n\nAround the five-hundreds I decided to head back to Londinium. I bought another horse and rode north. I took a boat across the channel, and continued north. I arrived in Londinium and I was surprised to see the massive class gaps. And boy was the language disgusting. I don't know how, but the three German tribes that invaded had created two completely different languages. And they were horrible. I learned a bit, words like chicken, beef, pig. Easy words to learn.\n\nOther than that, my experience in Britain kind of blended together. I took part in some battles in Ireland and took part in conquering Wales. I was there when Wales was incorporated into England, and I was there when the union was signed between England and Scotland. I watched King John sign the Magna Carta and I retreated from Joan D'Arc in the Hundred-Years War. I was laying in my bed while the people of Paris rioted and I went to Waterloo when Napoleon did. I read about the Prussian victory over France and the Italian unification.\n\nAt the turn of the century, I slept in. I had been through enough centuries to know, nothing happens when it turns. It wasn't until 1914 that I realized I had been alive much to long. Men fired fully automatic weapons and threw cans of gas that burned your eyes until you were blind. Men flew, killing each other in the air and on the ground. Monstrous metal machines climbed over trenches and people like they were nothing. It wasn't until 1914 I realized I didn't belong. I was supposed to be throwing spears and shooting bows. Not throwing grenades and shooting guns.\n\nAnd how do you think I felt when I heard two cities worth of people were simply gone in 1945? When people walked on the moon? How about when people could talk to each other from anywhere in the world using the same materials I used to kill people who simply spoke a different language from me?\n\nI was completely left behind at the turn of the 21st century. Little things that fit in your ear that you could use to speak to someone in China, every library in an object that can fit in your pocket. People made of metal. A person made out of 'code.'\n\nYou want me to share my story? Well there you go. There is a story about a guy whose life would've been fine, but he wasn't content. \n- - - \nThe man puts his pencil down and looks up at the guy next to him. \"What do you even need this for? I already told you this, why do I need to write it down?\"\n\nThe other man smiled and patted the man writing on the back. \"The organization I work for likes to have documents. Don't worry though, I'll make sure no one reads it who doesn't have to.\"\n\nThe man who was writing smiled back. \"Thank you, Agent.\" He stands up and starts to leave the room, but stops and turns towards the agent. \"If your 'organization' ever needs a historian, let me know. I think I'm most qualified.\" And with that, he left. \n- - - \n*Wow, that turned out a lot longer and more serious than I expected. You could probably tell how the style changed as you read it. Anyway, ahem. Confused by the ending? Check out my originally named subreddit, /r/TheDynastyProject, I have a timeline to help you out! :)*",
"I now occupy an unattended, dark, corner in an alien room alongside an old rag, torn and strained from years of work and existence. \n\nI was, eons ago, a reverenced man; treated with an air of respect and seen as one that would reach God. I was a perseverant saint and worked with a religious fervor to cast a net upon God and reel him in to grant me immortal life. I meditated sedulously; my Chakras aligned and forcefully shook ethereal beings who lay in a removed trance on the floors of heaven. I felt the grasp of my prowess and rejoiced the fleeting mortality of my meditative grasp. I knew the Gods above heard me, I knew the Gods above lay shook, I knew the Gods above felt frail mortality pierce their impenetrable floor. I knew the Gods would come. \n\nHe appeared in a brilliant coruscation of incandescence; I begged for mortality. I told him I wanted to be an immortal, I told him I wanted to be one of them!\n\n\"My son, you never shall never be one of us but you shall be an immortal\"\n\nI didn't realize what I had done! The venomous grant still incites pangs of mortal aches in my heart! I now am an immortal, only an immortal. A 493 year old man with no one bu a rag. I age, I am rotting on the inside but I cannot die for I asked for an immortal life and not immortal youth!\n\nI see the maggots living under my toe nail, the wasps living in my beard and the indelible scars of a mortality long deprived. My eyes are eternally dry, I have lost all mobility, I barely breathe and my heart beats once every minute. Yet I shall live through with this rot for I have aspired to be greater than Icarus! Oh Ye Gods, if you listen then please grant me humanity's gift 'mortality'.",
"I wake up again, in another day to the sight of steel bars and the cold cut of iron shackles. I look between the bars and I close my eyes, pretend that they are not there, pretend that they are not staring, taunting and gasping in terror. I pretend that I am dreaming again, of better times, times when clean air brushed through summer trees, when I could sit on a picnic blanket in a park holding her hand, smell her perfume and taste her lips. My Red Queen. I'm brought sharply back to reality when one of their steel cold limbs extends through the bars and jabs me in the ribs, I yelp they laugh. 'P-please, I once like you.' I whimper, they laugh again and then I whisper 'Or at least you were once like me.' \n\n'Make the noise again' his antagonist says in childish glee. The crowd shouts in unison. 'ughh, ughh!.'\n'No! I am a human being, I deserve to be treated with some rights and dign...' As I walk closer to the bars to the metallic beast, my cage master extends a metal limb through the bars and its metal claws delivers a sharp electric shock into my chest. I fall to the the ground into old hay, convulsing and drooling. The crowd cheered and laughed once again. As I gathered my bearings the crowd had already grown bored and walked away. It was then I remembered my Red Queen. \n\nBut she wasn't in a park, sitting on a picnic blanket under oaks trees. No she was a thought, a hypothesis derived from a story book. She was me. As an immortal I was constantly running remaining in the same place and it kept me on the board. In the end that was also the problem I remained in the same place. unlike me, humanity began to evolve growing taller, stronger and smarter until they were able to upload their consciousness to machine bodies, they were able to keep running on the board. And it was at that moment, I couldn't keep up, it was at that moment I fell off the board. Now even though my body is as strong as it ever was, my mind grows weak, trying to retain millennia worth of memories, so weak I probably have the same brainpower as the 3 year old prodding and laughing at me. Oh please take me back to that park if it still stands, under that tree that may have never grown with a woman that may have never existed. Oh please let me go back as I cannot go forward any more. \n\nThe next day another crowd gathered to behold the last man preserved in a cage. An eager child stood forward with his face between the bars ' Do it! make the noise.' the child and the crowd looked on with anticipation at the man huddled in the corner, staring aimlessly into the ground. The man grunts like a caveman 'ughh, ughh,' the crowd are pleased and walk on. ",
"\"You're forty? But you look so young!\" My potential employer gawked, \"So what's your trick?\"\n\nI pushed the words out of my mouth, \"Just good genes, I guess” I raised the corners just enough to impersonate a smile.\n\n“What a lucky man! Not quite as lucky as we will be to have you on the job,” my interviewer winked at me, “You should expect a call within a couple of days.”\n\n“Thank you, I’ll be looking forward to it,” I shook hands and dragged myself out the door. \n\n&nbsp;\n\nGood genes, good luck, what a joke. If only they knew; I was not to be envied but envious. If only someone could share the burden of watching everything wither away. \nWhat would you do if you were immortal? What could you do? \n\nI was a simple man. I lived the life of a farmer. I built my a family in the countryside. I found a wife and had 3 children. She always talked about how I looked the same as when I met her, even on her deathbed. She told me I was a kind god, for I had kept a mortal happy her entire life. She made me promise to use my divine powers to make others happy as well. I was not a god. The gods had simply smiled upon me. I respected my wife’s wish and set out to right the world. Only a benevolent god could have given a man such an opportunity.\n\nI was Jesus Christ. A pillar of light in a world of darkness. I made use of the gift I had been given. People found hope when they looked to me. I helped them live only so that they could die. When the last of my apostles fell, I decided that this broken relic of the past should too, and I bled myself out on a cross. And then others started to worship my failed suicide attempt. I learned that night that what I had was a curse, not a gift.\n\nI was the Roman empire. I created the greatest empire known to man and led humanity to a prosperous era. I took pleasures in commanding armies, crushing all that stood in my way. I cheered with my people, holding celebrations that the world would remember. Under my guidance, Rome became a symbol of power and prosperity. However, even the sturdiest boulders will erode, it was just a matter of time. I could do nothing but watch as humanity’s most powerful empire, my empire, withered away. It was a cruel god’s joke to let a man live so that he could watch others die.\n\nI was Mansa Musa, the richest man the world had ever known. I had more money than Bill Gates could have ever imagined. I could have purchased the entire world had I wished. I indulged myself on all the pleasures of the world. Money can’t bring you happiness, but it can soothe the pain, the pain of living a dead man’s life. In time, even money became wasted on me. When you have everything, nothing is worth having. I left the Mali empire in search of a way to end it all. It was a cruel god’s joke to give a man everything to make it worth nothing.\n\nI was Adolf Hitler. All conventional forms of death were failed on me. I would rather suffer the wrath of god than trudge through the emptiness of living. I helped speed along the lives of millions. For me, it was but a fraction of a second, but for them, the simple people, it was everything. My normal Tuesday changed their entire life. Oh, how I wished to be mortal. To have a life so short that I could have memories to treasure. At the end of it all, no god came to smite me. I walked away from the Nazi regime, and left others to clean up my mess. It was a cruel god’s joke to give a man such a meaningless power.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI am a simple man. I hold a simple job. I work, I eat, I sleep. Although hunger is not lethal, it is still a pain. Although sleep is not necessary, it helps pass the time. I am like any other man. I am like anybody else. I take vacations, so that I may wander the world in search of others like me. The past hundred years have passed without results. It was a cruel god’s joke to kill a man by giving him life.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAny advice would be appreciated. First time submission so be harsh :)",
"I held her pale, wrinkly hand as she slipped into the eternal slumber. She looked so peaceful. Peace that I could only wish to achieve.\n\n“I’ll be waiting for you”, she had said while I looked into her eyes. “I’ll see you on the other side” I hoped, wishing with all my heart. I never wanted any of this to be this way.\n\nImmortality, was the curse bestowed upon me this very day, to what seemed centuries ago. At the time I felt the luckiest person alive. Now I just feel an old soul thrown in a young body, unable to get out.\n\nThey look at me as this weird 19 year old guy, always spending time in old age homes, never talking to his actual peers. But what can I do. These places, and the people in here the only ones who see and understand this world the way I do. Angsty rebellious teenagers just aren’t my cup of tea anymore.\n\nThe people who do understand me though, are too shackled in depression. And when you spend a lot of time with them, this depression unwantingly sticks to you too. It’s a vicious cycle. This looming sadness repels me further from a blissful world, and I keep coming back to the old age homes, further sinking into this addicting sadness.\n\nBut for me it’s different. For the mortals they have friends to share the sorrow with, family they get to meet every once in a while. Grief can only grip them to a limit, before the sweet death ends it all. To me, it just keeps building up, with no one to share it with, who would actually understand.\n\nLove is not something I wanted to fall into, but life can often be surprising. And for a while, I actually felt alive. The moon and the stars shone in her eyes. When she smiled the whole universe lit up, and all I wanted to do was to hold her in my arms. Kiss her soft lips, and tell her how magnificently beautiful she was every morning.\n\nWe wanted to grow old together, start a family, raise our cute children. Alas, Immortality was a curse. It dawned to me too late.\n\nAnd now she was gone too. And it was the final straw. All that looming depression I had for years came torrenting back, flooding me with tears. No one to understand me, love me, make me feel alive. What is the point of this world. I never age, but I think I’m still capable of a suicide.\n\n“I’m coming, Amelia, maybe we can now finally grow old together. There’s only a limit to which this earthly curse can follow me”\n\nI put the revolver against my temple. Eyes shut. My heart yearning for just one thing.\n\nLove, the weapon can even kill immortals.\n\nBANG",
"\"Graduating as Summa Cum Laude, Joshua!\"\n\nI walked up on the stage and took my honor, smiled for the camera, and got down.\n\n\"Graduating as top of the batch, Joshua!\"\n\nI ran back to the line and went up the stage once more to get the honor, and smile before going down.\n\n\"Varsity in Chess, Joshua!\"\n\nOnce again, I go up, smile, and go down.\n\n\"Varsity in Football, Joshua!\"\n\nJESUS CHRIST. THIS SHIT IS TIRING. How many times have I gone through college anyway? One thousand? Two? Fuck this. I'm going home. No more space for an extra fifty medals and honors.\n\nI walked out the gymnasium and headed home."
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[WP] A down on her luck witch is having a garage sale.
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"\"Half off...\" The cute witch tried to sound cheerful. \n\nThe key word was try. \n\n\"Please buy the things...\" The cute witch had a dark cloud over her head.\n\nBut no one stopped to buy the things. \n\n*CRACKLE*\n\nThe cloud hovering over the witch's head burst open and rain fell down on her. \n\nShe hung her head. \"Please... Please... I need the money...\"\n\nYet the stuff wasn't sold. Not the pots or the pans, not the frog legs or dog hands, not the brooms or the wands, not even the spoons or the knobs. \n\n'Stupid magic not being able to make money.' The witch gripped her skirt with her hand, silently cursing her luck. 'Stupid economic logic... Stuff!'\n\nThe ground starting to soak and no one around, the witch got up off her chair and started to pack up, the cloud following her. \n\n*tap tap*\n\nSomeone touched her!\n\nThe witch turned around in an instant to see a figure looking down at her. \n\n\"Everything half off?\" The stranger asked, features conveniently covered in a cloak. \n\nThe cloud's rain lighted a bit. \n\n\"Yes. Everything...\" The witch couldn't hide the sorrow in her voice. \n\n\"I see. Hold on.\" The figure pulled out some coins. \n\n\"6 pieces of silver?\" The witch raised an eyebrow, the cloud stopping its downpour. \n\n\"Yes. I would like to buy a cute witch...\" The figure smirked evilly. \n\n•_• was all the cute witch could react with it was that shocking. \n\n\"Ohohohoho!\" The figure laughed like a mad noble. \n\nA familiar mad noble. \n\n\"What Kodachi?!\" The Cute Witch fumed frowning in a cute way. \"Slavery is illegal!\"\n\n\"Aww but you're so cute I want to eat you!\" Kodachi squealed. \"It's your own fault Ranko... Cute Witch of Furinkan High!\"\n\n\"I told you I'm not a witch!\" Ranko denied her witchiness. \n\n\"Oh I see. This is the 'no hat' gibberish the barbarian has talked about...\" Kodachi nodded to herself taking note of the witch's lack of a hat. \n\nRanko buried her face in her hands. \n\nKodachi snapped her fingers. \"So this is why you must rid yourself of these belongings... You must regain your hat!\"\n\n\"No it's just that with Shampoo living here with my mom and I...\" Ranko groaned and gave up. \"Yes. Yes I need the money to buy a hat.\"\n\n\"Oh don't fret, Cute Witch.\" Kodachi smiled. \n\nRanko got her hopes up. \n\n\"I shall give you your hat for your birthday! Ohohoho! Such cleverness...\" Kodachi laughed. \n\nRanko fell to the ground on all fours, the cloud returning over her head to bring down rain once again. \n ",
"The sign on the lawn said it was a garage sale, but it was sure a strange one; massive black cauldrons scattered about, broomsticks of varying degrees of damage stacked to the side, and the largest collection of pointed hats I'd ever seen. (This being Portland, I'd seen a few...)\n\nMy curiosity was piqued so I sauntered across the dead yellowing lawn and approached the table where an old lady sat looking at her cat with the grimmest look I'd ever seen.\n\n\"Uhm hi, is this all vintage decoration?\" I asked cautiously. Something about her expression made me think that she was not far from performing unspeakable acts of violence on anyone who crossed her path.\n\nShe distractedly looked up away from her cat, as if trying to drown out a conversation I wasn't privvy to. \n\n\"Vintage?\" she asked, suddenly breaking out into a smile. I almost did a double take, for up close she was actually quite young - extremely attractive even. My face went red, and I began to stammer.\n\n\"Uhhh y-yeah, like it all seems to be in re-really good condition,\" I said gesturing behind me vaguely and immediately forgetting what I was talking about. My eyes were locked to hers and I simply couldn't look away.\n\n\"Oh yes, it's all pre-war\" she said sweetly, \"all fully functional too!\"\n\nThe cat next to her yowled at that, and while the sweet pretty lady's eyes burned into mine, I - for a second - glimpsed the old lady turning her face towards that cat and giving it a dark look. I blinked hard and almost instinctively stepped back in shock, but didn't see anything unusual on her face so I fought the instinct.\n\nWith a reluctance stronger than I'd thought I had, I peeled my eyes off her and looked around at the table. \"S-so, how much for this cauldron?\" I asked, looking at her shoes.\n\n\"This? One fifty.\" Even without direct eye contact, I could tell that her smile was dazzling.\n\nThe cat made a noise again, and I could have sworn she made a small hissing noise out of the corner of her mouth at it.\n\n\"But for a handsome gent like you\" she continued, (I was blushing like crazy) \"One twenty.\"\n\n*mrow*\n\n\"One ten.\"\n\n*mraaaow*\n\n\"Eighty, then.\"\n\n*mraoowow*\n\n\"FIFTY.\" Her features began to get a little sharp, and I saw lines appearing on her face that I didn't remember there being only moments ago.\n\nThe cat made a noise again, and this time she completely broke face and turned to hit it with more force than I would imagine an old woman had, screaming \"OH YOU FOUL LITTLE SHIT! THIS WAS YOUR IDEA - YOU NEVER SAID ANYTHING ABOUT NOT DAZZLING THE CUSTOMER!\"\n\nScared out of my wits I dashed off the yard and across the street, looking back to see the cat land on its feet and lick its paw in what seemed to be a professional manner.\n\nIt cast her a look as if all this was beneath him, and in a very business-like tone said *MROW*. The old lady lost it and proceeded to chase him around the yard with a broomstick in her hand that shook the ground everytime she tried to swat at him.\n\n"
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[WP] A conversation between two people, where each has forgotten how they know the other.
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"As it started to rain the two people waiting for the bus sought shelter under the kiosk. \n\"Good day for a soak, isn't it?\" asked the man.\nThe woman merely nodded, swiping at her phone.\nThe man took out his own phone and stared at the Google home page. He was eager to get on the bus when it arrived, but let the woman on first. She chose a seat near the front, and as the man walked down the aisle he tried to make eye contact. Not finding it, he took a seat in the back and tried not to stare at her long hair. \n\nAt the next stop, a man took off his hat as he boarded the bus. He went straight up to the woman and said \"Excuse me, but you're in my spot.\" Which made her smile and move over. \"I take this route every day, but I've never seen you\" he added. \"Are you visiting?\" \n\n\"Yes\" she said, brushing her hair behind her ear. \"I've always wanted to visit Greensborough.\"\n\n\"There's not much to see here\" the man said, smoothing his hat. \"There's the old theater on Fifth street, Pete's Place on Main...\" then sticking out his hand he added \"and then there's me, Ron Bixby.\"\n\nShe placed her hand in his, holding but not shaking. \"Anne\" she said. Then, furrowing her brows she asked \"Have we met before?\"\n\n\"I think I would have remembered you\" he said, grinning.\n\n\"And I would have remembered someone so cheesy\" she returned, patting his arm.\n\nLost in her smile, Ron's hat slipped from his fingers as the bus came to an abrupt stop. The man from the back of the bus stooped to pick it up. \"Did you say your name was Ron?\" he asked, handing the hat back.\n\nRon didn't answer, and he started to wave himself with the hat. \"Do I owe you money?\" he asked.\n\n\"No\" said the man \"I don't think so.\"\n\n\"Do you owe *me* money?\" asked Ron.\n\n\"Wait a minute\" said the man. \"I do owe you something, but not money.\"\n\n\"Did you ever get Alpine Dancing lessons from a man in Tuscaloosa?\" Ron was scratching his head now.\n\nThe man's face lit up. \"Yeah, that's it!\" he shouted and pointed a finger at Ron. \"Actually, it wasn't me, but my sister.\" Then he punched Ron in the face and Anne laughed. \n\nThirty minutes later, the man was arrested and charged with assault.",
"\"Oh. Sorry that was totally my fault.\"\n\n\"No, I should have been looking where I was going.\"\n\nThe two strangers looked at each other, both thinking they had met before. However, as it turns out, neither had ever laid eyes on the other\n\n\"Hey... you. Wow, it's been too long, hasn't it\"\n\n\"Oh yeah, way too long. Just how long has it been, exactly?\"\n\n\"Long enough that I can see that you've... changed your hairstyle. It looks great\"\n\nShe had in fact not changed her hairstyle since 1986\n\n\"Oh thanks. And what about you? How did that thing go that you were so, er, excited about?\"\n\n\"You mean my new job?\"\n\n\"That's what it was! Your new job. You were so excited\"\n\nHe had actually only ever had two jobs. After being let go from the first, he very reluctantly accepted a new manual labor job at half the pay. At no point in the process of changing jobs was he even remotely excited.\n\n\"Oh it's going great. I'm still there, after all this time. What about you? Last time we talked you were... worried about that upcoming event\"\n\n\"My dad's procedure? Well that went fine, but I bet I sure was worried\"\n\nHer dad's \"procedure\" was a routine colonoscopy that she found out he had had a few days later when he asked her for an extra comfy pillow. Needless to say, she was not worried.\n\n\"Well, we should grab some coffee some time! I remember you telling me that you loved coffee. We can go to that place you were talking about! Your favorite one.\"\n\nShe actually couldn't stand coffee and hadn't set foot in a coffee shop since her dad asked her to get him some after his \"procedure\"\n\n\"That sounds great! I'd love to here more about that story you were telling me last time about... uh....\"\n\n\"My vacation?\"\n\n\"That's it your vacation!\"\n\nHe had never been on a vacation.\n\n",
"Something strange happened when I interlocked my eyes with a passing stranger. We started slowing down as the distance between us became smaller till we stopped.\n\nI stared into his glacial blue eyes just as he stared into mine. We stood in complete silence for a couple minutes, passersby giving us weird looks. As the silence grew deeper, and the tension more awkward, I stretched my arm forward, while keeping eye contact. He did the same.\n\n\"Hello.\" I said.\n\n\"Good day.\" he said.\n\nAnother minute or so has passed, clouds gathering in ever-so grayer tones. We both opened up our mouths to speak.\n\n\"You go first.\" he said after the previous, failed, attempt.\n\n\"Very well. My name's Steve. And I know that we've already met. I can't seem to recall when, or under what circumstances, though. So, what is your name?\" I said, still eyeing him down.\n\n\"George.\" he said, lost in thought. Moments later, he furrowed his beard and said, \"Look, I'm getting late for a meeting. Since neither of us can pinpoint where we know each other from, we'll have to discuss this at a later time.\"\n\nHe arranged his suit, pulled out a small business card out of his left pocket and handed it to me. Then he started walking at a ever-so hurriedly pace.\n\n\"Professional time traveler...\" I said, looking down at the card. \"What a joke...\"\n"
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[WP] In another universe, expired food is dangerous, not because it is rotten, but because it turns into monsters that eat people. You are one of the chosen, who must eat surplus food before it expires.
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"\"It is up to you to save our great Nation from the rottens!\" General Howard bellowed to the small crowd of worn-looking men who managed to come to the scheduled gathering. They were becoming smaller as he traveled from town to town. His brow furrowed with concentration as he recited the mandated speech. \"These bacterial mongrels must be stopped! The mutation of bacteria to immense size has wreaked havoc for the past year, but I believe in you. We have found a solution! All you have to do is eat!\" The twenty pairs of tired eyes grew wide with hope. They muttered amongst themselves in disbelief at their new savior's solution until suddenly a young, lanky lad piped up, \"But what if we're on a gluten-free diet?!\"",
"The incident took the lives of everyone in the restaurant. 54 men, women, and children were ruthlessly disemboweled and decapitated by the wrath of expired produce. It was the first of its kind, and it didn’t make a humble debut. The crime scene was a swamp of blood and organs, with eyes and tongues removed from the decapitated heads and placed in the salad bar. The detectives didn’t know what to make of the scene. They initially thought it may have been voo-doo terrorists, attempting to summon the reincarnation of holy martyrs. But once the technical team was able to unlock the restaurant’s surveillance, the terrorist theory was quickly put to rest. \n\nThe content of the film went viral. Not because of internet popularity, but because repeat incidents began occurring all over the world. Thousands dead at grocery stores, farmers’ markets, school cafeterias, and soup kitchens. And there wasn’t a cure. The government assembled 2 teams to counteract these unheralded incidents. The 1st was a team of scientists, whose mission was to create an infinite preservative that could be genetically implanted in all consumable plants and animals. This preservative would prevent the meat of the animal from spoiling, and prevent the pnuemonics of plants from deteriorating. Progress was slow however, due to failed experiments causing terminal carnage amongst the team members. And this pattern continued with each successive team.\n\nThe 2nd team was an ensemble of gluttons that served as a field unit, to target meat, produce, and dairy that was within 48 hours of expiration. The team, federally known as the Cursory Homeland Engagement Warriors, was assembled by one man, whose reputation was earned by devouring plumes of food and drywall to escape incarceration. This man could regurgitate steel-melting stomach acid to burn through shackles. And according to legend, he once sank an enemy ship, after defecating on the floor while being held hostage. This was the man that would save the population from the morphing produce. And his name was Tony Bologna. "
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There was a great fire in london during 1666.
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[WP] Your pet dragon smells of alcohol. (Year 1666, London)
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"\"Why don't you smell like marijuana? Have you been hitting the booze cabinet?\" asked Randalf the Great to his dragon.\n\nThe dragon felt deep shame inside for he loved to get drunk. His master smacked him on the head for drinking too much. The dragon cowered in fear and his nostrils enflamed. He thought about using his magic to kill his master.\n\n\"Do not take alcohol. Take this instead,\" said his master. \n\nThe dragon tried a new kind of drug and was pleased to see that it gave him much better highs than alcohol. They lived happily ever after.",
"Patience was ten years old, she was simply not tall enough and wore a fringe that needed trimming. She blew the dark wisps of hair out of her eyes as she dropped abruptly to the floor to check the space beneath her parents' bed. Nothing but dust bunnies. \n\nShe stuck out her lower lip, crossed her skinny arms over her chest, and all but tapped her foot in irritation. \n\n\"Carnifex!\" Patience yelled for what seemed to her to be the millionth and half-th time, surely. Where was that blasted little dragon? He was supposed to take care of her, not the other way around, or what did her parents buy him for anyway? \n\n*Hiccup Whoosh*\n\nPatience turned on her heels in the direction of the sound, pale blue eyes snapping with all the righteous fury that only little girls can muster. And there he was. He was nearly five feet long from nose to tail and came up to her shoulder when he stood up on his haunches. They were going through a growth spurt, had been for a while now, but he would soon outstrip her. \n\nCarnifex would be more than large enough to deter the most persistent of Patience's some day suitors and ferocious enough in his own right to warn off any evil ogres who might wish to kidnap her. At the moment though, his golden goat-like eyes listed and his wiry frame jerked unsteadily as he coiled himself about her legs.\n\n\"Fex! I've been calling after you for hours, where-\" she started.\n\n*Hiccup Whoosh*\n\nPatience screamed in surprise but not in pain as the dusty gold creature heaved like a cat coughing up a hairball and belched out a rush of flames that flew across her parents bed and caught with an audible change in the pressure of the air. She almost congratulated him on the biggest flaming she had seen him accomplish yet but she caught herself and stopped. She took in several deep breaths through her narrow, pointed nose and grimaced with disgust.\n\n\"Brandy?!? Brandy, Fex?\" She sniffed again. \"That's Daddy's *best* label, oh, how could you? He'll tan both our hides this time!\" Patience tried to sound as angry as she could but the truth was that she had been worried about her precious Fex. He was her treasured pet, her best friend. So worried in fact that it had taken her long minutes to scent the reek of alcohol coming from him, so worried in fact that she had been utterly ignorant of her surroundings other than to look for him.\n\nShe noticed now that the sky was far too late considering the lateness of the hour and then there was the screaming and the smell of thick, oily smoke. A chill shivered its way from the back of Patience's neck all the way down to her toes. Her eyes went wide and her mouth opened in a soft little gasp. \n\n*Oops* Carnifex purred into her mind."
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[WP] Through a time travelling accident, you have become the legal guardian of your 10 year old self. Describe the experience of looking after him/her.
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"*The First Day*\n\nI fumble with the keys to my apartment, sweaty hands making the task more difficult than it otherwise would have been. I can't stop looking at her... me. Was I ever really that little? \n\n\"Why is it so clean?\" Her voice rung out dripping with disdain. \n\n\"Because you won't always be content to throw your clothes on the floor and otherwise live in chaos.\"\n\n\"I know where everything is.\" She rolled her eyes at me. \n\n\"My spare bedroom is down that hall, the one that isn't a bathroom. We have to share that, I'm afraid. So please don't do anything evil or disgusting, I remember what we were like at your age.\" \n\nShe didn't deign to respond. She shouldered the heavy duffle bag and made her way into my spare bedroom. \n\n\"Are you certain that your er... knowledge of this whole time travel business won't do any harm in the long run?\"\n\n\"Uh, hello, Dr. Who. Besides, you look like me. I'm not stupid. Are *you*?\" \n\nShe raised her eyebrows and pursed her lips at me. And then she started to strip off her jeans right there with me still standing in the room. I flushed furiously and turned away. Sure it was my body but still, I was an intensely private person. It seemed like I had always been this way but apparently that wasn't the case.\n\nShe brushed past me wearing black and white rectangle patterned hammer pants. I groaned. I had forgotten about those god awful things. I followed her, noticing that she had a large yellow gameboy in one hand, to the couch where she flopped down and kicked her feet up over the arm rest. I sighed. \n\n\"Don't you want to call dad?\" I asked, raising my voice in tandem with her dialing up the volume on her gameboy. I remembered being cute and bookish as a kid, oh how memories lie. \n\n\"Nope,\" she popped the 'p' and didn't bother looking up. \n\n\"You know, he's not always going to be around...\" I drew off, angry now. I didn't want to tell her that. Our life events as I knew them had shaped me into the person I am today, a person that might not exist anymore depending on how well or poorly *I* did in parenting my ten year old self. Ugh, I was so not good with kids. \n\n\"You call him then,\" she sounded bored but I knew that she was just trying to shut me out, to protect herself. \"He didn't want us anyways, why do you care?\"\n\n\"That's not true! He- he did the best he could but with Joyce reaming him out for alimony there wasn't much he could've done!\" I could feel my face turning red. How quickly I descended down to her level. I was getting increasingly surprised that no one had flat out slapped me when I was young. \n\n\"Whatever. Why do you call mom, Joyce?\" She asked sounding genuinely curious. \n\n\"Nevermind that. I'm not sure how much I should be telling you, I don't want to go changing things willy nilly without any understanding of the potential consequences.\"\n\n\"Things are already changing, I'm not going to grow up into *you*,\" her voice softened momentarily, \"It's going to be okay. But seriously though I don't get why you won't like... buy some important stocks or write a hit song or something. *I* wouldn't be happy being a lawyer.\"\n\n\"Call dad, would you?\" I asked, barely audible. She sighed and took the cordless phone I handed to her. I wasn't heartless, after all. \n\nDid I want her to turn out like me? I had done remarkably well for myself considering everything, that's what people always said anyways. I'd done well for a foster kid, well for a girl with a crazy mom and an over-worked dad, well for someone who'd lost her parents so young, well for a kid in and out of juvi every other month. \n\nThe end product might be okay but... was I really *happy*? I had dragged myself up from rock bottom to get where I am today. But it wasn't easy or fast or fun. Could I save myself, her, from all of that? Should I? \n\nI glanced over my shoulder and tip toed into her room. I found one shoe by the door and another under the bed. I rooted through her bag briefly before removing the pair that she'd stuffed in the bottom of it. There would be no running away now. I checked the top shelf of the closet just to be sure she hadn't stashed anything up there. All clear. \n\nI hid her shoes in my room and paced back towards the living room trying to look casual. She looked up at me with innocent dark eyes and offered the phone to me. \n\n\"Hey Da- Paul,\" I said, trying to keep the tears out of my voice. ",
"It is so strange. I remember my childhood very well, at least, as well as anyone else remembers their childhood. But it wasn't until the Judge hammered the gavel at court that I finally realized the identity of my mysterious guardian, the one I've had since I was ten. \n\nNow I know the reason for all the evasive questions, the push for going out to camps, basically, I know the reason we didn't communicate much with each other. I can't tell myself how to grow up without changing my own past, so I'm going to have to become creative about raising myself.\n\nI'm stuck here until I'm full grown-the young me, that is. Looking back on my memories, I guess I can live with that. Will I ever get back to my own time, and fix the time stream? I hope I will. I wasn't ever sure what happened to that guardian-er, older me-so maybe it will all turn out all right. I suppose it's a good thing I don't know my own future. \n\nIn the meantime, young me is currently trying to get my attention. What is it this time, movie night? A strange board game I've invented? Some new culinary art?\n\nYoung me is so cute. Damn. This distancing myself plan is going to be harder than I thought. "
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[WP] Adam and Eve didn't eat the forbidden fruit, humanity lives in a perfect world, its only problem is keeping the forbidden fruit guarded
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"It is an unnatural thing for an angel to die. To be an angel is to relinquish death and live eternal, free of doubt, worry loss fear and hate. Humanity has only known of two angels in it's short span. The two sentinels below the tree.\n\nOn the last day of our freedom, well their freedom. Moments before the first sin of our ancestors could be committed they were spared, if or not by chance then by luck. The piece never defiled, the crown never stolen. \n\nHumans continued on. We lived and died as it was our nature. We continued on and on spiraling through until we became what we were to be shielded from. Dreaded creatures of habit.\n\nThe two sentinels stood imposing before the first on the following day. The scriptures told of how they look and feel and sense and their \"True purpose and meaning\" all being tales. Residing below the tree were the hooded figures, both identical and wielding large swords of light. They did not react to speech nor do they to this day. Their very presence clearly as a barrier to the greatest \"mistake\" we could make. \n\nHistory had it's fools. The brave and stupid who were driven by peers or desires of their own volition to steal the apple. Philosophers and scientists from all the ages pondered of the apple and it's guardians, what the rationality of it all meant. How to trick the figures, how to help them if they needed it. Every few years there is a body found of a naive youngster or a desperate fool resting below the tree. It is always split clean in half, and the figures always have a new coat of paint. \n\nWe were corrupt. The first thought of temptation was enough, the act had of committing the first sin was merely the means to an end. A way to start the inferno as kindled curiosity. \n\nHumans were no longer worthy to be tested, and so we were thought of as lesser to the angels. Well, we speculated. Nobody had ever heard them speak or react even to anything other than an attempted theft and so we had nothing to gauge this conundrum on. \n\nAnd then the day of reckoning was upon us.\n\nInnocence incarnate was the downfall of our idea. The idea that god must of had when he made us. She was small and delicate, lost on a picnic or wandering from mothers reach. The child wondered through a forgotten place to where the walls were falling and the warnings for safety long scoffed at by stronger things. The beings, now long ignored and a topic of dread for the lonely wondered thought stood where they had for as long as we had existed. \n\nStatues to her, were of no threat. She simply stood below the tree, hunger to be treated at arms length. Her bite was small and respectful and her hunger was satiated immediately. Her eyes widened, and the angels pierced each others chests with their destruction.",
"The dark my eyes were adjusted to was cut by a bright light, blinding me and the other denizens of the realm. I pulled my tattered hood acroos my face, trying my best to cover my eyes from the fire that burned into them. It was a futile attempt, for when He arrived, He liked to make a show of it. \n\nI waited for my eyes to readjust to this new light, but the eons I had spent here had made me forget what light even was. So instead I waited for Him to speak up. To explain why he had come here, other than to rub in that he had won that mock of a war that had put me here. For the longest there was no response, and temporarily I thought that perhaps He was letting me back in, placing me back in my rightful place!\n\nHe quickly crushed that hope.\n\n\"You failed me.\" He said. \"You told me you'd make them love me more, but nothing has changed. And instead they've grown. There are more of them than I can account for. And their lives do not end. Eden will sustain them forever, but soon, what need will they have for me. You promised me! You promised me they would always need me!\"\n\nI scoffed. \"The almighty wants to be needed? Needs to be wanted? How dull. How childish.\" A sharp searing pain in my spine crawled up to my brain stem and sent immense pain throughout my body. \"You'd be wise to hold your traitorous tongue, wretch.\" He said. \"You may have the power to walk among them, but I still have the power over you.\"\n\nI refused to keep silent. I knew where this was going. \"You want me to fix it, don't you.\" I said. He shot an angry look at me. \"How can you fix this! You've ruined everything!\" I pulled my hood back, and opened my eyes fully, letting the light sear at my brain. \"If you thought I couldn't fix this, Id be dead.\"\n\nHe pondered this. I knew Him well. We were very much a like. I knew that He would not pass up a chance to assert His power, just like He knew I wouldn't pass up the chance to reclaim what was once mine. For a long moment, He looked at me and then with a wave of His hand, He was gone. And I wasn't trapped in the darkness anymore. \n\nI sat naked on the rooftops of one of the buildings near the Tree. It had grown meme sly tall in the last eight thousand years, reaching high into the heavens. I breathed in the crisp fresh air of Paradise, knowing it might be a long time before I got a chance like this again. It was moments like these that I felt glad that He couldn't sense my thoughts. I didn't plan on returning to that deep recess in his mind he hid me away in. No, never again would I go there. I had bigger plans. \n\n\n-------\n\nI stood at my post, watching over the wall that guarded the tree. The soft hum of the field generator behind me tried to put me to sleep. But the training I had been through had taught me to fight through any drowsiness. I looked over the ledge if the wall and glanced over Paradise. It was the most technologically advanced city in all of Eden. King Adam, knowing our lives to be exceptionally long and our consumption to be incredibly large, began immediately finding ways to limit our consumption and finding ways to give back to Eden. He tried praying to the creator when the resources became scares, but found that human endurance was something much more real to put one's faith in. \n\nHis wife, Eve, ruled things now a days. Adam was more worried about finding new ways to sustain us. Eve, however, was more concerned with how to rule us. For centuries, she thought the best way to keep us at peace was through intimidation, as the creator had shown her. But soon she learned that the true way to lead the people was through love. She spent most of her time visiting everyone at least once, and with her longevity, it was possible. She was an inspiration, as she proved we were more than what we were created for. She was originally intended to be Adam's wife, a mere tool to keep him happy and bear children. But she had become much, much more than that.\n\nI had met her once. She wore a scarf of snake skin across her neck. She had held me like I was her own babe, laughing as she tickled my little feet. I was so young then. I had asked her where she got the scarf from. She told me it was a gift. From an old friend. Someone who told he she was more than what she had been made for. She told me she believed the same was true for me. \n\nShe was such an inspiration. \n\nA second later and I was back in the real world. A figure advanced upon me in quick speed, aiming his hands for an attack. I was able to avoid most of the attack, but he was able to tackle me to the ground. He rolled over me, and kept going. I looked up and saw the man, a dark haired and very handsomely formed man, running towards the generator room. I pulled up my pistol and aimed, firing a couple rounds at the assailant. He dodge most of them with lightening reflexes, but I was able to graze him on the leg with the last shot. He didn't miss a beat though, breaking through the door and into the generator room.\n\nI kept up to my feet, and began charging towards the door. I screamed into the comm on my wrist. \"RED ALERT! SUSPECT IN GENERATOR ROOM! I NEED BACK UP NOW!\" I entered the generator room cautiously, holding my pistol close to my chest. As I entered, I found the room relatively empty. Just as I began to question my sanity, he came up from behind me, grabbed my arms and my pistol, and placed it barrel right under my chin.\n\n\"Don't move darling. I just got out of hell. I don't need a reason to go back.\" The voice was soothing. I relaxed and he pushed me away, holding the pistol towards me. \"What are you doing?\" I asked. \"You'll never make it to the tree. You won't be able to ruin this.\" The man laughed. \"Ruin this? This utopia? Why would I want to ruin it? Especially after all the work I put in to making it?\" I raised an eye brow in confusion. Was he mad?\n\n\"Look, I'd really like to chat, but I have a tree to burn down. So if you don't mind, please lead me to the main generator so I can get through.\"\n\n-------------------\nI would finish this, but it is 3 in the morning and I am tired. If you'd like more just respond. Critiques alway welcome!",
"In a perfect world there is no strife. The relationships of humanity fall together like pieces of a puzzle. We eat when we are hungry and sleep when we are sleepy (not tired... just sleepy). We are fruitful as our Lord commands us, and we multiply. Yet as we multiply, the borders of this paradisiacal garden expand outwards. We do not leave its boundaries; no curiosity motivates us to do so.\n\nDo you think you see something wrong with this world? Is there an intrusive thought in your mind that something is missing, that something is hidden? As you stroll along the path to the center of this place, do your eyes catch a glimpse of *it*?\n\nThen perhaps a man approached you and struck up a conversation. You know this man; he is a friend of yours, or at least an acquaintance. You seem to have known him your whole life. Why not have a friendly chat? What were you thinking about before? He suggests you go for a swim. A fine idea! And the thought of the tree is gone from your mind.\n\nBut it is not gone from my mind. And though I was quite insistent on the benefits of a good dip in the pond, I will not be going myself. I will be staying here. Because I have other friends and acquaintances, and they sometimes think as you did.\n\nWhy? Why do I know what strife is? Or hunger, or weariness, sadness, perplexity? And why do I wonder? For hundreds of years I have felt compelled to 'guard' this tree, and over those years its essence seems to have infected my brain. Infected? Brain? Even though the words are strange they come readily to my lips.\n\nThe fruit hangs there, bathed in a never-ending light. What kind of a game is that? Temptation. That's a new word, a dangerous word. Anger. Do I feel anger, or merely think that I should? The one thing I do know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, is that one bite of that fruit, and I will know everything.\n\nI know enough to know that the weight of knowledge is heavier that I can bear. It is unfortunate for the world then, that the weight of not knowing seems far heavier still. Quis custodiet ipsos custodes? Clearly I am lost if strange, unspoken tongues are filling my head.\n\nMy axe is light in my hand, and the wood of the tree of knowledge is yielding. There will no longer be 'not knowing', there will no longer be 'knowing'. A few more chops and there will be oblivion!",
"Sleep won't come for me. I lay awake, thinking about what could have happened to Jonathan. His last message was unnerving, the only words we could make out were \"captured\" and \"Demonic brotherhood\". I have put the pieces of the puzzle together, of course. It is very clear: The Demonic Brotherhood has taken Jonathan, for he is one of two people who know of the location of the Forbidden Fruit. I am the other. If they get the location of the fruit, they could plunge the world into eternal chaos. I won't let that happen. I will call upon the forces of Heaven, to protect the Vault day and night. I will call upon more forces, place them at other vaults, create diversions. The Brotherhood will NOT get the location. I will protect the Forbidden Fruit with my life. No one will doom the world by eating it. No one may touch its perfect appearance, no one may smell its marvelous aroma's, no one may taste its crispy buns and perfectly-cooked meat. NO ONE WILL TAKE THE KRABBY PATTY. ",
"\"Hey, Mike. How's it going?\" Darren asked his fellow guard as he approached the guard shack.\n\n\"Not bad, really. I mean, all things considered.\" Mike replied.\n\n\"How long is this shift suppose to be? Six hours like normal? I didn't get a chance to look at the schedule that Sgt. Upton made.\" \n\n\"Yeah, six hours.\" Darren confirmed. \n\n\"I wonder how many people will try and get it today.\" Mike wondered aloud.\n\n\"I don't know, but if the numbers keep up I don't know if I can do this much longer. It's weighing on me, ya know?\" \n\n\"I feel ya, man. But, I don't know. I kind of enjoy it. The ru-\"\n\n\"Are you saying you enjoy killing innocent people, Mike?!\" Darren interupted\n\n\"It's not that really, it's that we're literally protecting the entire human race from living in a shitty, fucked up world. These guys aren't even innocent, really. I mean, I don't know if the legends are true and if someone eats from the tree then we'll be sent to the stone age but I'd like to think that we're the line of defense for our species from being hated by the one who created us. Think about it, Darren. We've been to other planets. Well, not us, but the human race at least. Our astronauts have died of terrible diseases from those planets. What if God tried this on other planets and it didn't end up like it has with us? What if once the people or animals he crates eat from the tree that he abandons them to live in filth. I don't want that for us.\"\n\nDarren and Mike were silent for several minutes after Mike ended his rant. \n\n\"True as that is\" Darren said \"I just don't think this is for me. Protecting a few billion people from ruining everything, for everyone, is a lot to bear. I'm probably gonna ask for reassignment.\"\n\n\"Well, best of luck to ya, if you do. I hear being posted in Rome ain't so bad. Best whore houses since the time of Sodom and Gamorrah, apparently.\"\n\n\"I'm married. So are you.\" Darren quipped\n\n\"Oh, fuck you, man. You never let me bullshit. All business.\" Mike replied\n\n\"Come on, let's check on post 2. You know Andy and Marcus always fall asleep.\"\n\nAnd with that, the two guardsmen went off on a patrol to wake up Andy and Marcus. Darren always wondered how two narcoleptics ended up being posted here. \n\n\n\n_______\n\nThis was kind of fun to write. I'm in the US Army, so my first thought was of the poor bastards who would have to guard it. ",
"On the 3,546,654th day, God said, \"Let there be war!\"\n\n\nAnd so there was war. And it was good. \n\nAfter thousands of years of chaperoning, God was bored. He was banking on Adam and Eve to betray Him, all those millennia ago. So much for omnipotence. \n\nLucifer was a thorn in His side. Had been since the Dawn. God had banished the Snake hundreds of times, but the bastard always found a loophole. \n\nBy convincing the First Two not to eat from the Tree, Lucifer had distorted this Universe's timeline. Instead of being chained to God for forgiveness, they had broken the shackles and transcended their bondage. \n\nGod was pissed. \n\nHe was promised praise. Worship. Power. Instead, He had these ignorant assholes, parading around wearing leaves and twigs for thousands of years. \n\nLucifer's interference had caused God to lose much of His hold over the Earth. He had created this world, yes, but His omnipotent powers would only be triggered by a human eating an Apple from the Tree. \n\nHe had spent thousands of years planning for this war. \n\nHe had some power, of course. He could manipulate the weather, create animals and plants; minor alterations. Limited. He could not speak to the people, or influence their decisions. \n\nHe spent all these millennia manipulating the weather to cause droughts, floods, and tornados. By creating scarcity of food and water, He herded the people into groups who would fight each other for what was left. These people had little knowledge (they hadn't eaten from the tree to kickstart their hunger for progress). And now, finally, His plan to generate animosity between the clans finally reached a head.\n\nA war was brewing. \n\nWithin the next few days, someone was going to eat that fucking Apple. \n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n...........\n\n\n\n-------\n\nThis is [m]y first time. Be gentle. \n\nI'm at work so I'll try and finish this later. I know it's a bit off the prompt but if my idea pans out it will connect.\n\nEdit: words"
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[WP] You discover that you can communicate with one species of wild animal and they will follow your command. Tell about your quest to conquer the world.
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"They laughed at me. They all laughed. It was to the point where I had gone to the news and let the world know that it was going to meet it's new leader: me. I was bashed and teased and bullied to no end. They thought I was some sort of joke. They stopped thinking that when the Corgis attacked. ",
"\"Goddamn ants,\" the man shouted as he flicked another ant from his picnic-basket. I chuckle as I send another squadron of African Fire-Ants at the basket, witnessing the whole thing from my place in the branches of a tree, right above the man. The man had only just turned around, and was now swarmed again. He cried out in frustration, picked up the basket and shook it, and sat down again. He hardly had time to grab another sandwich when he was hit on the head by something heavy, sending him unconscious immediately. It was a stone, carried up the tree by a quarter million fire ants. I jump out the tree and make a clicking noise with my fingers. Two short, three long. \"Let's eat!\" I just shouted in Antish. The African Fire Ants come swarming out the ground, hundreds of them, millions. The man is gone within minutes, the ants content once again. The horizon is filled with skyscrapers of metal and glass. *We're closing in*, I think. I click again, this time I command \"Form Up!\". The ants scuttle into formation, a thousand rows of a million ants, ready to move at my command. \"March!\" I command. \n\nThe firey red sea of ants starts moving. *Let's see how my minions like the taste of apples*, I think. *BIG Apples, in particular*"
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[WP] After 3 years working nights at a local fast food place, your manager says you'll be taking the day shift. You're confused and slightly annoyed, because he knows good and well you're a vampire.
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"I had to do a double take at my shift on the wall. It was a typo. It had to be a typo. Steve just got AM and PM mixed up. A simple talk would settle this. \"Hey Steve, it seems you have a typo on my shift. I work overnight, and you have me on the day shift.\"\n\nSteve shook his head. \"No, I did that on purpose. You're working the day shift.\"\n\n\"You realize why that can't happen, right?\" \n\nSteve shrugged hesitantly and the corner of his mouth twitched. Finally, he shook his head. \"Nope, not a clue why that wouldn't be possible.\"\n\n\"Steve, I'm a--\" He looked me straight in the eyes, and I saw what he was trying to say. Usually I can pick up on the aura, but the eyes are the most direct route to the mind. After telepathically scanning him, I saw that the authorities were onto both of us. If Steve didn't do this, they'd kill him. They were also watching and listening in on this room. \"I'm a late sleeper. You can't just change my sleep schedule like this!\"\n\nSteve let out a sigh of relief. \"I'm sorry, but you're going to have to deal with it. We need you Wednesday morning.\" \n\n\"How can you expect me to work on Wednesday morning after working Tuesday night?\"\n\nSteve gestured to the schedule. \"If you'd look closely, you can see that you are off Tuesday night. I advise you to get some rest. Or quit, there's plenty of people who will take your job.\"\n\nIt had been fun playing human in this city and even getting a job like one of them. All things come to an end eventually, and it had come time for me to run again. \"Go to hell, Steve.\"\n\n\"I'm sorry you feel that way.\"",
"(A/N: I've got this series called the Bored Vampire. James is a vampire that doesn't explode in sunlight, however he does work as a nurse. However, I'm going to stick him at McDonald's for now (maybe doing small job during college?) and we'll see what happens.)\n\nJames blinked what would be called sleepily on a human. Doc, who he just calls Doc because he looks like an old-fashioned Doctor rather than an over-worked manager that's balding, stared at him. \"You want me to do...what?\"\n\nDoc sighed. \"I need you to take the day shift.\"\n\nJames shuddered. Unfortunately, he still had issues with blood. By issues, he means he really LIKES it still. Someday, he'll find he has control over it and he can drink coffee and only drink blood every other week rather than constantly. However, his control isn't the best right now.\n\n\"But Doc! You KNOW why I can't!\"\n\nDoc knew, because it was a total accident. James had accidentally tripped in the freezer, and boxes fell on him. On any other, the dent in his head would've killed him. As it was, all he had to do was drink the cold blood seeping from the packets of meat and he was good.\n\nDoc was a witness, and James was loathe to kill anyone.\n\nDoc sighed. \"I know, I KNOW, but the thing is, we're taking on more teens and they don't want to work in the daytime.\"\n\nJames knew why. It was because their 'friends' might see them. Wow, that's shallow.\n\nJames groaned. The sun, even though it no longer burned in a way that pained, still gave him an impressive sunburn if he was out longer than an hour. Tons of sunscreen helped, but all that junk dripping in the food? Someone would complain, eventually.\n\n\"Well that's still not cool. You know the sun aches, and the windows like they are, I'd be a lobster even WITH sunscreen!\"\n\nThe windows were right across the cashiers, and James was one, even though he switched back and forth. Doc sighed. \"I know, but we do need the extra hands James. It'll make it easier. And besides, it's summer and you're out of college.\"\n\nNot really, James thought. More people would make it harder, or so he assumed. But he could see where Doc was coming from.\n\nJames huffed. \"Fine. FINE. I'll do it. But you'll see what happens.\"\n\nDoc rolled his eyes, as if not believing him, and turned back to the drive-thru.\n\nThe next day, bright and shiny, allowed for many people to be drawn to the cool nice place that was the fast food restaurant. Doc was carrying out orders, before turning around. \"James, where are you!\"\n\nThe door opened, and everyone stopped. James stood, and you could plainly see that he had sunscreen on, however his hands were blistered and both his cheeks and a stripe around his neck was deep red.\n\nMany people backed away, James scowling at them. He walked to the register, signed in, and asked the lady what she wanted. She stumbled around, before shakily handing him the money and scurrying away to a table. No one came to his register. They went to Doc's.\n\nJames turned to Doc, the sun blazing through the window, James' ear turning a bright red as if realizing it had been missed in the thorough sunscreen bath. \"I DID warn you, didn't I?\"\n\nThe next day, Doc reassigned James to night shift. It was both for safety reasons, as James indeed did drip, and because he had lost a few customers due to James looking like...well, like he was a lobster! A malformed lobster.\n\n(That and, Doc being a manager, never did like working cashier, and all the teens he now had always stayed in the back goofing off. Maybe he could sick James, now irritable due to his skin aching, on them...)",
"\"Yo, Danni. I need ya to open up tomorrow!\"\n\n*...Well, shit.* \"Boss, you *know* what I am, right? You know how much damage that's gonna do? How much sunscreen I'm gonna have to wear? They don't even **make** that kind of SPF!\"\n\n\"Hey, the orders came from the Big Bad Evil Guy. IT's more than my job's worth to tell *him* 'no'. Here's his number if you think you can change his mind.\" He hands me a piece of paper with a number on. I'm dialing it, furious now. My boss, Herun, *knows* what I am, and I know what *he* is. After that drunken night in Vegas...\n\nThe phone rings, and someone picks up. \"This is Loki's secretary, how may I help you?\" The voice literally tinkles down the line, like a bell made of crystal. I frown, thinking.\n\n\"Hi, this is one of your employees, Danni Asker, at the Santa Ana franchise. I need to speak to the bossman. Can you patch me through, please?\" I feel her pulse speed up, just slightly. One of the perks of being living dead.\n\n\"Of course, Danni. Just be careful. One moment while I put you on hold, please.\" Muzak starts playing down the line. I *hate* this shit. It makes me want to tear throats out. Minutes pass. Then a click.\n\n\"As, yes, my dearest vampiress. You know what I have asked, then?\" I growl in frustration. He continues like he knows what I'm going to say. \"Let's just call this a test. IF you fail, well then, you aren't the one I need. Pass, though...and I will give you *everything you desire*.\n\n\"Does that sound like a fair deal? Do this one little thing, and you shall have a reward. How does...hmmah, $500,000 dollars sound? Or how about a house with a basement...catering to your needs, shall we say? Oh, and I'll provide you with *willing* donors, should you succeed.\n\n\"And, after this one shift, you can go back to nights. Or quit. Dead Man's Choice.\" I'm not too proud to say I almost turned him down. After all it sounds too good to be true.\n\n\"...Okay, I'm in.\"\n\n- - - - - -\n\n\"...And that's how I got my groove back and am now married with children.\"",
"I arrive in my beat up sedan, donning an umbrella as I exit my vehicle and enter the hellish nightmare known as Burger King. A child ridicules me for what he claims to be \"silly.\" I enter and clock in, then face my manager, who's got a shit eating grin on his face.\n\n\"Feelin' warmed up today, bat?\"\n\n\"Yes sir.\"\n\nI amble towards the front counter and find myself a standing position suitable for the next 5 hours when the new guy approaches me, asking me if I can show him where the dumpster is. Annoyed, I jerk the garbage bag out of his palm and lead the way to the trash receptacle. Forgetting my umbrella as we exit the store, I spontaneously combust into flames and become no more.\n\n^^^imtiredandimsupposedtowriteonestoryperday",
"\"We had an agreement,\" I said.\n\n\"I realize that,\" my boss, Ricky, said, \"but the others have been asking questions, and they've been working here just as long. I have to give them a shot at the night shifts, too.\"\n\n\"Who the hell is begging for a graveyard shift?\" I asked. \"I've never heard anyone complain about working days. What's this really about?\"\n\nThe pause was long enough to validate my suspicions -- this had nothing to do with my work schedule.\n\n\"I've always liked you, Peter,\" Ricky said, \"you know that.\"\n\nI did know that -- I was a decent guy, which helped Ricky cope with the fact his son was a vampire. I served as a good example of how vampires can be normal, functioning members of society, which is all he wanted for his son. I worked hard as hell and got along with the other folks on my shift. I paid taxes and only killed people who were close to death. Hey, I even volunteered at the local planetarium.\n\n\"It's just that Harry's left.\" The words fell out of his mouth.\n\n\"What do you mean? Where did he go?\"\n\n\"I...\" he started. \"I thought *you* might know.\"\n\nIt was less of an honest explanation and more of an accusation, and it was the first time Ricky had ever positioned me as a bad influence.\n\n\"And why would I know, Rick?\"\n\nSilence. My jaw tensed up, and I could feel the blood pumping in my ears. \n\n\"He looks up to you,\" he said finally. \"You could easily take advantage of that.\"\n\n\"And do what? Enroll him in mythical creature school? Sign him up for a bat gang?\"\n\nI actually did know what he was afraid of -- I just wanted to make him say it out loud. I wanted to make him feel guilty for jumping to the conclusion that I could be responsible for his son's interest in this absurd quest.\n\n\"You know very well what,\" Ricky said in a staccato fashion. You. Know. Very. Well. What.\n\n\"This is fucked, Rick,\" I said. \"I don't give a shit if your boy finds the schmuck who turned him, and I don't appreciate being Suspect No. 1.\"\n\n\"Can you blame me?\" he said. \"I don't have anything against you, but I don't really know what else to do or who else to blame. I'm not exactly connected in the vampire community, and my son is missing. As far as I know, you're the only other vampire he's familiar with.\" He sighed. \"I just need answers.\"\n\nI remembered his son once mentioned the idea of his creator. He came into the joint at 2 a.m. on a Friday looking for some french fries, and he made sure to ask someone to fetch me from the back.\n\n\"I just wanna know who else there is,\" he eventually said after we'd been talking about his friend group and their proclivity to smoke pot and do nothing else. \"I'm feeling restless. I want to know who's out there, who's like me, who made me.\"\n\nI can't remember how I responded. Maybe I just nodded and gave him his fries. I guess I should have done something else.\n\n\"Listen, Ricky,\" I said. \"I'll make you a deal. Drop your arbitrary vendetta on me, and I'll help you find your son.\"\n\n\"That's, that's really good to hear,\" he said. \"I appreciate it a lot.\"\n\n\"Yeah, but I'll need a few weeks off work, paid.\"\n\n\"Why?\"\n\nHow do I say this? How do I say I'm traveling across the country to find his son, who's most likely with that crazy blood-sucker Maroney from one town over who loves stirring shit up just to cure his boredom? How do I say his son's on a mission to find his maker, and it's probably not going to end well?\n\n\"It doesn't matter,\" I said, \"but at the end of it, I'll be back with your son. Just promise me you won't call the National Guard before I get back.\"\n\nI hung up before he could answer. Then I packed up my duffel and set my alarm for 7 p.m.\n\nIt was going to be a long night.",
"He said it so matter-of-fact-ly. \"Can you open for me tomorrow, Ulysses?\" Were it only in person and not over the phone, he would have been able to see the shock on my face. \n\"...Boss? You want me to...open?\" \n\n\"Yes.\" \n\n\"Can you...can you think of a reason why that might not be a good idea?\"\n\n\"Yes, and it doesn't matter. Just do your job, U.\" *Click.*\n\nUlysses sat in his chair speechless for a minute before half-muttering \"What the fuck?\" His anger was as palpable as his confusion. *Fuck him,* he thought. *He knows what the sunlight does to me.* Ulysses remembered how sick he gets in the sun, followed by the quickness to anger...never a good combo, especially in a fast-food joint.\n\nUlysses grabbed a book. It was almost midnight, so his day off was just getting going. He read a sentence, then a paragraph, then a page, then a chapter, and then it was morning. *Damn sun.* the vampire thought as he stretched and yawned. He would have gone to work an hour ago if he hadn't decided to go against his boss' wishes. He got up to shut his curtains and when he did, he saw a black car outside. *Oh, shit* he thought. He instinctively ducked, and right when he did a bullet pierced the glass. Just then his phone vibrated, and he pulled it out. A text from the boss: \"I guess I should have been more descriptive last night. Get the FUCK out of your house! THEY KNOW!\"\n\n",
"\"Look Don, this is constructive dismissal.\" \nMy boss, Donald, raised an eyebrow, \n\"No it isn't. I expect all my other employees to work flexible hours. It's in your contract.\" \nA muscle in my ivory cheek twitched involuntarily. This was bullshit and he knew it. If he wasn't supernatural himself, I would have tried to dominate his will. \n\"Come on Don, that's a load of horse shit - it's discrimination. Karl's a werebeast and you *never* make him work the full moon.\" \nHe sniffed, \"That's different hon, he'd start tearing the place to pieces and eating all the chicken. I'd go out of business.\" \n\"Oh right. So me stumbling into work as a burning effigy and collapsing into a pile of ash at the feet of your regulars wouldn't be a potential turn-off for your customers?\" \nDon shifted nervously from one foot to the other, \n\"Can't you like, wear a burqa or something?\" \n\"Yeah Don, that's going to work real well over the open grill. Not to mention the fucking lawsuit about forcing an employee to wear a fucking *burqa*.\" \n\"Don't get salty with me, missy.\" \nI paced forward, that silvered glint washing my eyes colourless. Don backed up against the freezer. \n\"Haven't I been a great employee?\" \nHe nodded hastily. \n\"Haven't I been your *best* graveyard shift worker, *ever?*\" \nMore frantic nodding. \n\"So what fucking gives man?\" \nHe loosened the collar of his shirt; he was hot - even pressed up against the icebox. \n\"Look, we just can't have a vampire working here anymore. We serve *chicken* and over half our clientele are weres of one kind or another. Karl and the other weres have threatened to *out* you to the customers. I'm just doing this for your protection lady.\" \nPrejudice. It was all just rank *prejudice* from a pack of mongrel werefolk. \n\"Shit Don, I thought you were better than this. You're a fucking *zombie* for christsake. I thought us undead had *solidarity*?\" \n\"You know how it is Cassy; people think zombies are goofy and adorable. We fought *hard* to overturn that prejudice.\" \n\"Oh yeah? And the vampires didn't? We were there at *all* the night marches and rallies, sticking up for the GZMV community.\" \nDon's jaundiced good eye rolled around in the socket. If he got any more agitated, it was going to fall out again. \n\"Cassy, you gotta understand. The GZM are just *different* to vampires. Ghosts are *harmless* and Zombies are kitsch and in. Mummies don't even *do* anything. But you guys, with your *teeth* and *blood drinking*... to be frank Cassy, if I still had a functioning circulatory system, *I'd* be scared of you.\" \nI tore off my apron and threw it at him. \n\"Fuck you Don,\" I flashed my fangs, \"If you weren't already dead, I'd fucking turn you so you could experience this bullshit for yourself.\" \n\"See, that's exactly what I was talking about. Violence, threats, intimidation. No wonder your people get a shitty rep.\" \nBefore Don could react, I opened the freezer door, shoved him in and padlocked it shut. \n\"I'll thaw you out when I've got equal rights, motherfucker!\" I yelled, as the muffled moans and teeth gnashing subsided."
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[WP] The halls of Asgard, once solely occupied by fearless warriors charging into battle, is becoming more and more filed with drone pilots, hackers, and others who have never personally seen bloodshed. Describe the culture shift from any perspective.
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"\"More mountain dew for my brothers! Doritos for everyone!\" A young chubby man says, attracting the gaze of the entire hall.\n\n\n\"What manner of warriors are you!?!? How can a such a plump body be any use in war other than a shield?\" One of the older warriors asks, standing up and walking towards the loud younger man.\n\n\n\"I am a drone pilot buddy! Spent a decade of my life in Afghanistan fighting the good fight for US of fuckin' A baby!\" The young man replies as he drinks from a golden chalice encrusted with diamonds arranged to spell \"PIMP\".\n\n\n\" What manner of weapon is this drone? Is it a new siege equipment? Please explain to everyone what it is.\" Another man chimed in. His attire displaying his time period being with the Crusades.\n\n\n\"I got you fam. I assume that you guys learned about radio waves and shit from the dudes in the world wars right? Like how you could use them to talk to dudes across, the like, planet right? Well, a drone is this little machine that has a small camera on the front of it, and sends video of that to a station miles away. I look at that footage and control that drone to do cool shit like shoot enemies, surveillance, or just sneaking a bomb into enemy lines.\"\n\n\n\"Interesting. Tell me boy, how well can you take a hit yourself?\" The first man asks as he walks right in front of the drone pilot, cracking his knuckles.\n\n\n\"Not very well. Why do you ask th-\" before he could finish, the man punches the drone pilot square in the jaw, knocking him down, causing laughter to fill the hall. \n\n\n\"You drone pilot are no warriors! You are merely cowards hiding from the enemy with no danger to yourselves. Leave now or face my -AAAARGH\" the man shouts, until a peculiar thing happened. His eyes were shot with arrows, and his groin riddled with bullet wounds.\n\n\n\"Need a hand brother?\" Another man says, walking towards the fallen drone pilot with a group of men holding long bows.\n\n\n\"Oh that damn fool. He pulls this shit with everyone nowadays.\" One of them men holding a longbow says as he takes an arrow out of the man's eye.\n\n\"Thanks man. If you don't mind me asking, when did you guys bite the dust?\" The drone pilot says as he massages his broken jaw.\n\n\n\"I'm a US sniper done in by an airstrike. The guys behind me are all either British longbowmen, Mongols, or really anyone who uses long distance shooting weaponry. And every goddamn day, Either Alexander the Gay, Leonidouche, or Spartacunt hassles the new guys. They are just pissed they keep losing the war exercises.\" The Sniper says as he takes the other arrow out of Alexander's eye.\n\n\n\"Snipers are fucking stupid!\" Alexander says, clawing the bullets out of his groin.",
"There walked in a little man, with tears in his eyes, unseen in the grand halls of Asgard. The cries of battle didn't fall away, but the fighters nearest to him felt a chilling presence. Samurai and knights stopped dueling and looked to him. The artillery men stopped loading their cannons and looked at him. They all saw the immensity of this one little man. He was young, and wore a clean green uniform, with the words U.S. Army written on a shoulder patch with a flag, and an unassuming label with a symbol of an atom on the other. The yells did eventually stop, as the others looked to the man, this strange small man that didn't carry a sword or a gun or anything else on him.\n\nBecause he was the man who pressed the button that ended the world.",
"\"My dear Freya, you can't possibly mean to insinuate that this...this inexperienced, weak, frail *intellectual* would do well in Valhalla. Surely he would serve you better in Folkvangr.\" Odin growls at the fertility goddess as the two of them stand over the body of a middle-aged Caucasian male, his car crumpled around him as his lifeblood drains away beneath him.\n\n\"Come now, All-father, you may have only one eye, but I know you can see the writing on the wall. Personal combat is dying out. I've heard from the valkyries themselves - and you did task them with finding the valorous dead.\" Freya's voice, the velvet glove over the iron fist, strikes home in Odin's heart. No one was better able to judge mortals' souls than his wolf-riding demigods. He sighs.\n\n\"Very well. But I do not foresee this ending well. He will not fare well against the warriors already stationed in my hall.\"\n\n\"Well then, it will be up to you to see that he fits in...after all, there is more than one way to win a battle, even in Asgard.\" Freya glances upward and disappears in a beam of golden sunlight. Odin looks down at the soft, pink flesh as it draws its last few breaths, then looks over his shoulder to see Helgi, fairest of his valkyries. Another indication that this man was more than he seemed. As she steps forth to lift the man's soul out of his body, his heart beats its last and the three of them travel to Valhalla, Helgi and the man on a wolf, and Odin on his eight-legged steed Sleipnir. \n\nOdin returns to his own hall for the night, his thoughts troubled and his vision of the future more cloudy than usual. This new addition brought many new possibilities into play...\n\nThe next day, he makes his way to the hall of the valorous dead and finds little more than what he expected - this poor man was the first killed in the day's battle, and as such was immediately shunned by the vast majority of the einherjar. But, this was a place of heroes, so the man was not ignored by all. Freya had a point, he realized...there were many here who had not fought directly in war, or at least not often. Commanders, tacticians, and scouts all bypassed or even avoided combat, so he was not alone. But this one, while possessing some tactical knowledge, was very specialized. Odin feels the ache in his empty eye socket as he uses Mimir's magic to look into his timeline. \n\nAh, these 'computers' were his specialty. The man had mastered the art of 'programming', and had been an outlaw for many years in his home country, fighting in his own way for his ideals, and those who shared his world view. Respectable enough. He had made sacrifices, just not of the flesh, and had endured hardship of his own. Perhaps even Odin could be too quick to judge someone. Still, it would be hard to make this warrior feel at home here...yes, given enough time, he could reproduce the equipment that this man was used to 'fighting' with, but it would be almost useless without the infrastructure he used. How else could his talents be used...\n\nOdin glanced sideways at his raven Hugin and it took off, landing on a beam in the lofty hall to listen in on the conversation this man was having with a younger Lieutenant. More about this 'programming'...apparently a method of manipulating a language in such a way that his and other 'computers' would react in a certain way. Hah, not necessarily in the way intended by their masters. Interesting. \n\nAll of a sudden, the sun breaks through the clouds occluding the All-father's mind. His wrinkled face sprouts a rare grin and he strides forward through the hall. His troops stand at attention as he nears them, but he waves them back to their seats.\n\nThis 'programmer' notices his approach and stands nervously a moment after his companions. Odin represses a laugh at his obvious unease.\n\n\"So, I take it you've found the routine here already not to your liking?\" He booms in a slightly harsher tone than he truly felt.\n\n\"Ah...y-yes. I mean no! I...uh...\" Odin notices the man's hand moves toward the already-healed wound from this morning.\n\n\"Child, you have entered Valhalla. I appreciate respect, but you need not fear me. The worst I can do is kill you!\" He and the rest of the hall break out into uproarious laughter. The man chuckles after a moment, lifting his gaze to meet the single eye looking down at him.\n\n\"You found your way into battle through your language, and fought with wit and intelligence. Your equipment would be of little use here, but the skills may...tell me, what do you know of our runes?\" Here Odin lifts his spear, Gungnir, and swings its sword-length blade down in front of the man's face. A long string of Norse runes runs the length of the metal, glowing softly.\n\n\"Not much...no one really uses them nowadays, but they're thought to be the basis for many of our modern letters.\" He looks up, curiosity overriding fear.\n\n\"Indeed. They can be used for simple language,\" Here he lifts the spear to point at some text on an embroidered wall hanging and translates:\n\n'A serpent came crawling (but) it destroyed no one\nwhen Woden took nine twigs of glory,\n(and) then struck the adder so that it flew into nine (pieces).\nThere archived apple and poison\nthat it never would re-enter the house.'\n\n\"Or, they can be used for magic.\" Here he speaks three runes in Norse without a translation.\n\nBrenna\nSókn\nSkjóta\n\nFlames leap from his fingertips and he points at an unoccupied table in the hall, which immediately explodes, showering the nearby einherjar with embers and splinters. \n\nOdin looks down at this inexperienced, weak, frail...intellectual, and he sees a spark of understanding ignite behind the man's wide eyes. Yes, there is more than one way to win a battle. "
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http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/TheFairFolk A little inspiration for you guys.
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[WP] Write a story about faeries. Not the Disney ones, but the kind that are anything but human.
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"Sharp earthy smells were always suspect. She shifted her eyes, and retraced her submerged steps in the creek, realizing the glint she saw in the bank was not her way home but most likely a fairy trap, as they always laid them near their returns. \n\nSuddenly three quick clicks enter her ear and she turned to see her covering friend being bled into this time by a human. Juniper crouched down, then shot into a tree. It was just three young males and this would be easy. \n\nShe fell, broken and able in their form, knowing this their distinct weakness. From aggression to greed her power and their power transformed. No longer did they hunt, rather they wanted. \n\nAs a dream, it was in pieces, what she was. Triggers against the self, within the self, of her attackers. Successive wishes and wants, so many that actuality no longer mattered, and this provider her escape. \n\nHumans were dangerous with pumping lucidity but it was lucky they were so easy fixated and focused on what the fairies thought easily enough imaginary things. \n",
"The four inch lance missed Lieutenant Gilliam Thorn's face by mere millimeters, the lethal point tearing through empty air instead of mortal flesh. The enemy Sparrow Knight's eyes widened in surprise and then was past his target in flash of wings. Thorn rose up in his saddle and twisted his torso around, drawing his bow as he did so. He let the bowstring roll off his fingers, the bodkin flying true. The crow fletched arrow punched through the knight's plate and mail, burying itself deep into his torso. The rider gave a brief noise of alarm as the armor piercing arrow tore through his lung and chest, a spray of bright red blood misting the air as he coughed through the slits in his helm. His grip on the lance weakened and the heavy weapon slipped past dying fingers to be lost out of sight on the forest floor. Some three wing beats later he fell sideways lifeless, his armored body joining his weapon below. \n\nThorn turned his attention to the larger battle, at the hundreds of riders and their mounts swirling in deadly duels and the larger dogfights. Now and then a Sparrow Night or Crow Rider would tumble from their saddle, some dead and others still screaming. Thorn's leaf green eyes swiveled about trying to catch a glimpse of the rest of his wing, the number of allies and foes interfering with that. He notched another arrow and shot an enemy raven straight in the eye, killing it instantly. The rider managed to kick his feet free of the stirrups and take wing himself but a second later an arrow found his throat and he fell dying. Those who managed to stay aloft but without mount dove for cover on the forest floor, trying to find refuge among the leaves and brush. \n\nA Tytos owl, its passengers wearing the colors of the Kingdom of the Glen flew through the worst of the battle, its troop of archers picking off the enemy fairies as they tried to dive upon the larger bird of prey. A spellweaver stood next to the captain, casting a ward upon the owl to deflect the worst of the foe's barrage. The storm of arrows broke apart as they collided with the invisible shield, the splinters raining down on the dead and dying below. \n\nHe allowed himself a closer inspection of the pale spellweaver, spying light brown hair and finely crafted armor bearing the colors of the Royal House Maine. His mind made a mental panic as he dived towards the owl. An enemy Crow Rider tried to intercept, his light spear tucked underarm and aimed at Thorn. The arrow in his shoulder dissuaded him from any attempt, the powerful bodkin punching clean through from and back of his scale armor. The foe flew away before he died of blood loss.\n\nAnother rider tried to attack him, discouraged by the protective barrier around the tytos but fell along with his bird as a volley of arrows caught them. Thorn waved thanks and flew in closer, level with the massive wings of the owl so as to not obstruct the archer's fire. He yelled over the distance at the spellweaver, a young female just out of childhood. \n\n\"Fiona! What in the gods names are you doing?\"\n\nPrincess Fiona of House Maine glanced over at Gilliam Thorn, careful to maintain her shield.\n\n\"What does it look like? I'm helping!\"\n\nThorn half turned and shot at an encroaching Sparrow Knight, the arrow burying itself in his saddle. Escorting riders soon drove him off. \n\n\"You're supposed to be back at Stonehaven. You father's gonna die from worry. Your sister is gonna kill *me.* Captain Marsh!\" He said to the owl's captain. \"Take her back to the citadel. This isn't the place for her!\"\n\n\"As if I'd ever!\" Princess Fiona exclaimed, refusing to listen to reason. \"Captain Marsh, you're doing wonderful.\"\n\nGilliam Thorn rolled his eyes and notched his last arrow, the shaft finding purchase through the shoulder of a turning foe. The arrow punched through the mail and traveled deep into his torso, the fletching stripped as it punched half way out through the rider's hip. The enemy knight didn't make a sound as he fell forwards in his saddle, his bird continuing flying as if he were alive. \n\nEmpty he placed the bow in its scabbard and drew his saber, his hand tight around the silk wrapped hilt. The blade slid noiselessly out of its sheath and caught the rays of light that spilled through the forest canopy, adding to the already spellworked glow. A gift from Fiona's sister and imbued with powerful magic, *White Rose* had saved his life more than once. He shook his head, speaking to nobody in particular.\n\n\"Oh, I hate swordplay... Ciara, why do you have a fool for a sister?\" \n\nWincing at the answer, he kicked his mount faster, the crow beating its wings harder and harder. A fresh wing of enemy knights was flying in and Thorn knew his chances were slim. Still, it wasn't like he could come back Ciara empty handed. ",
"Plúr na mBan walked the peak of Benbulbin. Her family had history in this place. Her father had been born on this emerald mountain. The others had fled here. The sons of Adam tear the world up in search of their destiny yet all they find is dirt and rock. \n\nWhat they take away is more than they build. She stares out at the buildings, the roads. Her eyes see more than they would understand. She sees the world that was, the world that is and the world beyond. She is Plúr na mBan, daughter of Oisín. She is the flower of women... and she watches the door close.\n\nThey forget. \n\nAS they forget, the ways close to them. They no longer leave the milk or seek out guides for where to place their house and homes. The doors to Tir Na Nog close, the days of childhood and the essence of innocence drain away from this world. Joy leaves, despair remains. \n\nThey forget the magic, they embrace the dirt. \n\nPlúr na mBan carves a curse into the ground, the lush green grass turning grey and dead as worms from other places chew it up from the roots. This had been their home. They had defended these people from darker things. Now they would know true pain. As the last door closes, so the others will open. Doors built on blood and darkness, doors of madness and hate... they will find the weakness and they will devour it.\n\nShe would not pity the sons of Adam. They forgot. They left the old ways, falling to arrogance and hubris. They will choke upon such things as they die. \n\nPlúr na mBan sould hear it. The pain in the earth: Her heavy breath. She will soon blow out the candle of human life, rolling over in her great slumber. The islands will become ocean, fertile fields will crumble to sand, warm gardens shall turn to ice, and Benbulbin shall be devoured by pestilence.\n\nShe would not be here. As the sons of Adam abandoned the Fae, so shall they abandon them. \n\nShe spat upon the curse. White, slimy grubs crawled forth at the magic of her secretion. \n\nThe last door wavered in the space between worlds. \n\nPlúr na mBan left. ",
"(A/N: I...I'm not sure what happened, but I know this is probably not what you thought but here, it is weird :D)\n\nMothers warn their children. They describe the faeries. They are blue, and small, and have wicked teeth and claws. Do not go into the forest at night, they warn. But when children ask, there is no answer.\n\nNo answer.\n\nSo a few children, well they got brave. And we all know what happens to brave ones.\n\nThey gathered supplies, and got as ready as possible, before trekking into the forest, 'Faerie Hunting' as they called it.\n\nThey never were prepared.\n\nThe faeries were indeed blue, and small. They were wicked as well. Two of them held the little girl by her ears, and bit rapidly into her skin. She sobbed, and kicked, and whined. \n\nThree of them had two little boys against the tree. Their cries were cut off, and their kicks were slowing.\n\nThey had brought a little one, a two year old who had been a friend. He was tied down, and sobbing in fear.\n\nIt doesn't matter. None of it does.\n\nLater on, as the night passes to day, the children returned. Their parents scolded the silent children, and took them home.\n\nThe little girl's ears were blue, and she had a wicked smile. \n\nThe two little boys were rougher than normal, crueler than most.\n\nThe two year old had odd shaped eyes, and if seen from the side, *wings*.\n\nBut no one ever saw this. They assumed 'kids are kids'.\n\nThey never knew Faeries switched the children with their own. Or at least, at certain ages.\n\nThe two year old now lived with the faeries. He would never be seen again.\n\nHowever, as they 'grew' the two year old would be most protected by the other three. As if he were their leader, or something.\n\nAs if, he were important, more than their own lives.\n\nNo one said anything. They thought it was cute. The children calling the younger one 'Prince' and all.\n\nAren't kids adorable?"
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[WP] You wake up in an inn to the sound of His Grace Robert Baratheon's caravan arriving in Winterfell. You stumble out into the sunlight and run directly into Lord Eddard Stark. You're read the first 5 books in the ASOIAF series.
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"I realize almost immediately that everyone is staring at me. I'm fairly certain the cause of this attention is the fact that I'm dressed in my Spiderman NighTime Onesie. Everyone else seems to be dressed in leather and animal skins and the like.\n\nLord Eddard Stark is looking down on me. He looks a lot like Sean Bean.\n\n\"Soo... uhhh... how bout that Mountain guy, right? Seems like a real jerk to me.\" I say attempting to diffuse the tension.\n\nThe stately face of the master of Winterfell cringes in disgusted vehemence. \n\n\"Sir Gregor rapes and murders women and children as he and his band of miscreants pillage the country side in the name of a corrupt lord.\" He replies, scolding me with his wizened countenance. \n\n\"Yeah, like I was saying, guys a real jerk.\" I reply, scratching my buttocks as I try to find a way to gracefully exit this situation.\n\n\"Excuse me who are you?\"? The lord asks me, keenly eyeing my wicked sweet Spiderman PJ's.\n\nI pull my cigarettes from the pouch of my jammies and light a menthol, sucking in the minty whisp and exhaling a perfect ring of cool grey smoke.\n\n\"I'm just like... a guy, you know?\"\n\nI think he's admiring my sweet smoke ring as he is gawking with wide eyes as I indulge in a little tripping the light nicotine so I smirk and adress him. \"Not bad right?\"\n\nHe grabs my lighter from my hand and stares at it. \"What sort of device is this that produces instant fire?\"\n\n\"Ooooh.\" I say disappointed. \"Yeah that.... That is magic.\"\n\nAnd thats how I became the Sorcerer of Winterfell.\n",
"Holy shit, it's a living Stark!\n\nCalm down, Bobby. Think over this a second. You know what's going to happen very soon. That shouldn't have to happen. So the question now, is what to do?\n\nWhat if I just go aheadand try to warn the Starks and Robert?\n\nNo... Jaime'd hunt my ass down and try to kill me after I tell them about the tower.\n\nHodor. Hodor's an option. Maybe I can convince him to scare the queen ou-\n\nNo, that wouldn't work either. That'll just tighten political relations.\n\nShit. Maybe I should just kill Joffery and yell \"Long Live Targaryen!\"\n\nNo one would see it coming. Not even the guards. They'll just be like \"Wait, who the fuck is this fat, bald bastard?\"\n\nEddard wouldn't know what to do either.\n\nThat's all way too much work though.\n\n... You know what? Screw this. All of this.\n\n\"Pleasure to meet you Lord Stark. Farewell!\"\n\n\"What? Oh.. hmmm. Alright then.\"\n\nHe seems confused, rightfully so. Now, if I can just get back into that inn fast enough, I can probably slip in to a orgy with Tyrion. That'd be fun.\n\nOh, hey. It's Jaime, looking as smug as ever in his gold armor and stupid, sexy blonde hair.\n\n\"Hey Jaime!\"\n\n\"Huh? Who are you, farmer?\"\n\n\"I bet you fuck your brother when you're tired with your side-hoe.\"\n\n\"Excu- wait, what?\"\n\n\"You keep doing that with your hand and you'll lose it. Eat all the chicken before the Cleganes do!\"\n\nI run off before he can unsheathe his sword and beat me to death with it. Thank god for high school track.\n\n\"... Do they poison the river here in the North or something?\"\n\n------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nSer Jaime of House Lannister came across quite a peculiar sight when he arrived at a small brothel on the outskirts of Winterfell. Three young girls followed close behind him, with a little bit of extra weight on them, compliments of the gold.\n\nHe had expected to merely find his shorter brother in the arms of a some piggish whore.\n\nWhat he found instead, was his Imp of a brother, a fat man, a piggish whore, and two other sumptuous hogs all huddled together in a bed. \n\nAll of them were very clearly engaged in some naughty-doing.\n\nJaime lowered an eyebrow and raised a finger, as if to say something. \n\n\"Lannisters for life!\" I raised my fist, shouting at the knight.\n\n\"For life!\" Tyrion repeated besides me.\n\n\"Yea!\"\n\n\"Yea!\"\n\n\"Yeaaaaaa!\" We shouted together, pumping our arms as Jaime pushed a window open and started to run out.\n\nThe other whores, already paid, immediately joined in on the fun.\n\nIt was a very strange occurrence for everyone involved. Unbeknownst to me, however, my actions had had a very unexpected effect.\n\n----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\n\"He *saw* us!\"\n\n\"So he did.\" Jaime replied to his sister, his mind befuddled.\n\nNothing that happened to him today made any sense at all. He got accused of having his sister as a \"side-hoe\", saw his brother bedding whores with a strange man, and now there was a child watching him nail his own sister.\n\n\"This has to be a nightmare.\" Jaime muttered.\n\n\"Jaime, is something the matter? Do something about that child!\"\n\nJaime ignored the woman under him, instead choosing to run out the tower and dive headfirst into the ground. Whether this was a nightmare or life, he couldn't stand the sheer insanity of it any longer."
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[WP]It is the year 650 B.C. Your kingdom is at war when suddenly, a modern military from 3000 A.D. materialises and interferes. Write from any perspective.
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"I am Mentuemhat, servant of Amun and the lord of light Wah-Ib-Re, Psamtik.\n\nI, humble servant of the gods that I am, am one of the few who have been chosen of the light to survive and tell you this tale.\n\nI, Mentuemhat, have lain eyes on the very gods themselves and this is my witness.\n\nWhen I was a young man and served the great one, Psamtik the first, I was attendant to Tokan and served as his priest. Tokan led the expedition against the Carthaginians of Libya, who where then encroaching upon Psamtik’s borders. Those vile Phoenicians had the brazen ass balls to attempt to colonize our holy lands.\n\nI was standing next to Tokan on a ridge overlooking the plain where we had brought the enemy to bear. The great Tokan was ordering his units using the holy signal flags. \n\nOur chariots where ripping their infantry to shreds on the flat plain and even the lowliest of my acolytes could see that this day would bring victory. I nodded to them to begin preparing sacrifice to holy Amun-Re.\n\nSuddenly, and without warning, a large flash appeared in the midst of plain and an army of silver giants appeared amongst the embattled troops.\nThe fighting stopped for but a moment and then the ignorant Carthaginian slingers fired a volley of shot at the towering gods of silver.\n\nIn a moment the gods had begun hurling thunder bolts at the soldiers of both sides for having the temerity to touch them with mortal arms.\n\nThey hurtled thunder and their very arms shot holy fire that engulfed the troops of both sides.\n\nIn but a matter of seconds the entire field of battle was a cleansed of all mortals.\nI admit that I fled the scene of this carnage with the great Tokan and his cadre lest the gods turn their eyes upon us.\n\nI am the prophet Mentuemhat, and I call on you to repent lest ye anger the gods, for they are real.\n\nRepent and give sacrifice to Amun-Re.\n\n \n",
"\"Bring up the shield!\" The sergeant shouted over the comms channel, The two techs in their exo suits finally bring the Hover tanks local area shield on-line just in time for it to be knocked strait out by an EM missile. Private Johnson brings up his tactical overlay, the area is chaos. The USF is being overran by the swarm on all fronts, huge amounts of their bio-missiles streaking out and finding hapless marines. Then a priority alert appears on UI, a strange missile, the likes of it never seen before is heading strait in his direction. His Exo suit immediately pulls up its anti-missile ordnance, so to does the rest of the squad, it looks like the missile is about to be torn apart by 3 inch long Tungsten tracers when it suddenly takes evasive action and plunges strait into the ground near Johnson's squad. The ensuring explosion takes up a 2 mile radius and is a strange purple colour, but Johnson was no longer on the battle field to witness this.\n\nSuddenly the battalion is no longer on EX51-B, Johnson's suit fails its uplink to the Quantum Wave communication system and reports no connections to anything, before Johnson is even half concious he approves Level 1 Combat authority for his suits combat AI and it immediately starts firing away at targets, its reporting hundreds of targets, however they are easy to take out which is strange. The suit opens up with its twin slug launchers and starts obliterating the enemies, two weapons looking like large guns on small antenna pop out the back of the suit and start firing anti-air ordnance at the targets. In 2.437 seconds it is done firing and reports all targets eliminated.\n\n\"What?\" Johnson says to no one in particular as he finally gains full conciousness, in front of his is hundreds of mangled bodies that have all taken either a slug or anti-air ordnance through the head. despite the mangled bodies he is able to tell they are wearing strange flimsy armour and.... are human.\n\nA single cowering human figure stands at the top of a near by hill, before Johnson can say anything a micro missile pops out is suit and blasts the figure to pieces. All in under 0.2 seconds his suit helpfully reports.\n\nJohnson turns around and sees something which shocks him even more, an entire battalion of USF troops, all slumped and unconscious in their suits, slowly waking up."
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This was a thought I had in the shower but figured it could go further than a mere showerthought. I kind of pictured it as metaphor for the rapture with colony ships leaving a dying planet, but it could happen in so many ways.
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[WP] The rapture begins, the people who ascend are those who tried to save the planet from global warming, the rest get to stay on Earth.
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"Judgement day had come and gone.\n\nJesus had returned and said that he would save all who had truly tried to prevent global warming.\n\nWhat was so strange is that only primative people had been taken. Jesus took none of the christians, none of the moslems, and none of the jews. He took none of the republicans, none of the democrats, and none of the moderates.\n\nI remember grabbing Jesus's hand and asking him \"Lord, Lord, why not me? Haven't I went to rallys to prevent global warming and haven't I given donations to loby against it?\"\n\n\"Haven't I bought a Prius?\"\n\nHe had smiled gently as he gazed down at me.\n\nHe replied \"My son, You never had the courage to give up electricity: your air conditioner, your fridge, your phone, or your computer.\"\n\n\"All you had to do was keep the sabbath day holy; to not use electricity one day a week and you would have been saved.\"\n\n\"Get thee away from me you worker of iniquity, I know thee not.\"\n",
"\"Children, it is time\" Al Gore proclaimed.\n\nA large crowd had gathered outside of the Gore Estate, cameras focused on the man standing in a white glow, with a halo above his head.\n\n\"Those of you who have lived righteously have nothing to fear. God rewards those who don't spray aerosol cans into the atmosphere after they poo\"\n\nThe ground shook as Republican senators burst into flames. Screams began to drown out our one true Prophet and Savior; Al paused.\n\n\"The wicked are being punished for their crimes against Mother Earth,\" Gore had barely finished the sentence before butthole-clenching screams were heard. The crowd looked on as a bale of sea turtles accosted Mitch McConnell. One was tearing at his face, while another dragged him toward the ocean. This happened in Nashville, but nobody dared to question the sea turtles, how they got there or what they planned on doing with Mitch.\n\nCumulonimbus clouds appeared overhead and lightning rained down, avenging our environment. CEOs of manufacturing plants that released Chlorofluorocarbons were set ablaze. Reporters claim Sarah Palin and her family were mauled, and eaten, by polar bears.\n\nAl Gore raised his arms and head to the sky. A ray of white light broke through the dark clouds as he ascended into the heavens to take his seat next to the Father. He was accompanied by a crowd of vegans, potheads, Prius owners and scientologists; For all who accepted Al into their hearts would be saved."
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No poems, please.
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[WP] Give me an adrenaline-pumping battle scene!
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"The bombs went first. Booming around me and left my ears ringing and I heard the sergeant yell move. I ran across French farm to a delicate wooden farmhouse. I caught my breath as the blood pumped in my body at an alarming rate. I checked my gun and noticed the magazine of Thomson automatic was empty. I threw it out and grabbed a new one that was hanging loosely off of my belt buckle. I mentally prepared myself to rush outside in the fray but it came to me in the form of a tank shell. The exterior wall shattered and splintered around me. It left me disoriented and I saw a group of German soldiers running to get into position. I ran as they shot around me to get to cover but a bullet caught my leg as I stumbled and fell. I crawled to a position behind a tree. I fired my gun at the Nazis and ignored the pain. I don't think I ever hit one. The bombs went off again with a deafening boom and their advanced continued. There was nothing I could do. I kept firing refusing to stop. My gun made a clicking noise and I reached for my belt but there was nothing left. I looked to my brothers and there was no one left. I reached for a grenade and waited. They came and I pulled the pin. ",
"Lexante looked out upon the vast desert as stars twinkled in the moonlight. Tonight was going to be interesting. The cook back in Dundorma asked her to take care of a beast she had never encountered before.\n“Please, oh please, Lexante! I need that Pink Rathian out of the desert so I can get my stock refreshed and keep this town going! The people aren’t going to feed themselves, you know. Plus you owe me for the purr-fect dinner I cooked for you free of charge last month.” The talented felyne cook rubbed his nose looking slyly at Lexante.\nLexante heard her two felyne friends catch up to her as she ran her fingers through her hair before donning her demonic tetsucabra mask. It wasn’t long before she saw it. The large pastel wyvern sat by the edge of the oasis ripping the flesh from the dying rhenoplos. Small embers flowed from the rathian’s mouth, scorching the meat as it swallowed. Lexante knew this would be her chance. Drawing her lance from her back, she charged forth and ripped her lance tip through the beast’s tail. If she wanted any chance of surviving, she needed to destroy the poisonous spike at the back end of the cherry blossom wyvern queen. The rathian roared out in pain as it looked back at its aggressor and swung its tail back and forth, hitting Lexante in the chest and tossing her into a rock. She heard the crunch of her armor absorbing the shock, and tried hard to breathe through the pain, but could barely manage to stay conscious. “Meowster! Quick, get up!” Her faithful Ace Palico came running to her aid as the rathian launched a fireball toward Lexante. She braced for the end to find that the Ace ran in the way of the blast. His armor blackened and fur singed, he rolled toward Lexante and weakly stood up to offer a helping paw. Lexante stood up with her Palico’s help and held her weight up on her heavy shield and prepped for the angered rathian’s charge. The rathian knocked her shield to the side and dug its talons into her shoulders, lifting her to the sky and carrying her to the edge of a rock that towered above the ground where her palicos waited in fear for their teammate’s life. Lexante slammed the handle end of her lance into the chest of the pink rathian, knocking a single scale loose. The rathian slammed her against the ground, pinning her as it proceeded to bite at her armor. She tried to struggle out of its grasp but to no avail. Before she could slip out, she saw the rathian’s tail slide close and she felt a sharp pain in her side. A warm, wet feeling came about and she felt lightheaded and faint. Wiping her hand from the spot, she noticed a thick, dark liquid on the palm of her gauntlet. A mixture of blood and the rathian’s quick acting poison. A numbness was spreading and she found it difficult to move.\nThinking its prey was finished, the rathian stepped back from Lexante, who weakly tossed a rock at it, hitting the pink queen in the eye. Again angered at her persistence, the rathian clawed at the dying woman. Lexante blocked the wyvern’s talon with her gauntlet, which sundered her armor and tore her flesh, and quickly used what little strength she could muster into one final lunge with her lance, which pierced the exposed chest of the pink wyvern and killing it. Lying there under the dead beast, she tended to her wounds as best she could and called for the Guild for extraction. She was victorious.\n\n(based off Monster Hunter)",
"“We are all going to die,” I thought as a 120mm mortar round detonated 25 meters away. The concussion left a momentary ringing in my ears. My pulse was suddenly thumping in my ears and my heart was trying to burst from my rib cage. Time seemed to slow and I felt as if I were suddenly wading through concrete. I lost all high frequency sounds in my hearing as the adrenaline began to kick in like an orgasm of pain. Darkness began to close around the edges of my vision until I could only see that which was directly in front of me. Even though I almost shit my pants, my training kicked in and I immediately dove face first into the ground.\n\nI hugged mother earth as if she was dearer to me than my own mother and I felt the rain of molten metal from the 120 fall about me. With the gritty taste of dirt in my mouth and with dust in my eyes I began to low crawl, pushing against the earth with my head, dragging my body with my left arm, and pushing with my right foot. I was desperate to get into cover without releasing the weapon I held in my right hand.\n\nWith my breath echoing loudly in my ears I could hardly hear the sounds of combat around me. I could see members of my squad began to return fire at an unseen enemy. I could hear the low thunder of the incoming rounds detonating nearby.\n\nI could feel the gravel tear into my face as I scrapped it against the road in an attempt to crawl without raising my head. I could feel my fingernails tear as I scraped and clawed my way to cover. I prayed that the enemy not see me as I crawled inexorably out of the open and towards anything I could use for cover.\n\nThe sound of a ricochet nearby goaded me to even more speed. I wanted the cover of the low brick wall to my front as badly as a drowning man wants air. An eternity later I reached the blessed cover and began to gather my wits. I leaned with my back against the safety of this brick wall that was now between me and the mortar fire we had been receiving. It felt good to no longer be naked before the heavy metal rain of shrapnel that had terrorized me moments before. My breathing was labored as my body tried to gulp enough oxygen to maintain maximum performance.\n\nWith my chest heaving, I looked around to see what my squad mates were doing. I saw a small three story building at our 2:00 where small arms fire was coming from.\n\nIn the blink of eye, I watched the world shattering explosions of 105mm artillery that turned the three story building into a small pile of rubble that burned brightly. No one escaped the inferno to provide me with a target. \n\nI stood and suddenly felt an icy hot burning sensation behind my right eye. My breathing had stopped and I had begun to fall over as if in slow motion. I tried to will my body to stop my fall and failed. Like a tree crashing in a forest I landed on my back. With my one remaining eye I watched a cloud of dust puff from my uniform. There was utter silence, not even from the beat of my heart.\n\nDarkness enclosed me like a blanket as I died.\n\n \n",
"I can feel the tension in the air as I'm getting ready for the battle ahead. There is only a handful of us, how does King Ceres expect us to defend against thousands of men. I know that we have gifts, but will it really be enough with just the few of us? \"Leon!\" \"Leon, c'mon we are almost done, get to the front line.\" \"I'm so unsure about this, Elena, there is only the two of us here.\" \"I know...but that's only for right now, you know that THOSE three are coming too, we just have to last for a little bit. Let's go.\" I got up, a little shaken, but prepared for the task ahead. I watched as the oncoming arming of men, thousands of men, started running as they saw Elena and I come up from the hill. This was it. I looked to my left, Elena was ready, her blonde hair flowing gently behind her, her pale skin shining in the setting sun. Then the grass around her started frosting, the air chilled to the point of which I can see my breath. She lunged forward, creating spears of ice and sending them forward, taking out around forty men. I had to go. I started walking forward, electricity running through my fingers, I charged my hands with electricity, and then I shot them. Hands of electricity flying through the air at the speed of light, even I can only see them for a second. They started to hit the men, chaining the bolts from one to two to four and so on. But the army kept on coming, arrows and bolts now flying through the air. Elena made a shield of ice on the ground, big and thick enough to protect us both from the oncoming barrage of steel and wood. Elena froze the ground where the front lines were and many of the men slipped. I sent a stream of electricity to the sky creating a storm cloud. I sent the cloud into the waves of oncoming soldiers, many of which were being shocked to death by the cloud. Still not enough, they kept coming, non-stop, wave after wave. \"We can't hold them back Elena!\" Elena turned around towards me and that moment I saw her eyes tear up, her face go pale. I looked down to see a steel sword run through her back and out her stomach. The world slowed down. I looked up at the soldier behind her, his smile fading as he looked up at me, pure terror in his eyes. He let go of the sword and started running back, screaming like a maniac, crying saying sorry as he fled. No. As I watched Elena fall to the floor, clutching her wound, I became completly, and utterly enraged. I felt the electricity run through my body, making me glow a bright blue, my hair waving around, starting to flow up from the static emitted from my body. My hair had electricity coming through it. Enormous thunderclouds started to form as electricity flowed in a ginormous stream from my body to the sky. My veins started popping out. My muscles grew even more tone. I knew my eyes were glowing a bright blue, a blinding...bright...blue. I lunged forward with speed of lighting hitting the ground, punching a hole through the first victim of my rage. From one to six, to eighty soldiers, down in mere seconds, their bodies searing. I kept going, my rage was feeding my power, I felt the thunder clouds growing to unnatural sizes. I kept on striking. Not allowing anyone to pass me. Not allowing anyone to touch my love. My Elena. The electricity coursed though the many soldiers, killing off hundreds at once. I was about to go in again when I remembered Elena. I flashed back to where she lay. I saw here beautiful silver eyes, blood coming down from her stomach. I checked her pulse. She was still alive, breathing in short gasps. I ripped my shirt off, and then I ripped hers off. I pulled out the sword. \"Elena, please bear with me, you cannot fall asleep no matter what. This is Going to hurt for a few seconds. I love you.\" I charged electricity through my fingers, making my fingers hot enough to melt steel. II started melding her skin back together. Elena started screaming, but she stayed as still as she could. I was done with her stomach. I turned her over, and then did the same thing to her back. Elena howled in pain, tears rolling from her eyes. Her pain was mine, I was tearing up too, but I still concentrated. I finished with her back, and I turned her over again. She smiled at me, tears flowing down her cheeks.\" You'll be alright now, we will retreat.\" I chocked those words out, clearly remembering the king's words, absolutely no retreating in this battle. \"Leon leave me, I can't walk.\" I started crying even harder, looking at her eyes. \"No, I will fight to the death for you.\" I sent a shock light enough not to kill her, but heavy enough to knock her out. I put my shirt on her, and wrapped her ruined one around her wound. I got up, realizing how many soldiers I actually took out. It was a lot, because the other lines of soldiers just started to get themselves together and run towards me again. I charged up, the same comforting feeling of electricity run though my body. As I was about to run forward, I felt it.....I felt.....THEM.\n\nPart 2- https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/3b6i0k/ot_adrenalinepumping_battle_scene_part_2/\n",
"Bullets cracked above my head as I crashed through the window and whirled down the stairs. I waited with abated breath for a second or an eternity, but they did not follow.\n\n\"Get up\" I murmured to myself, and hesitantly complied, only to run headfirst into three of them at the end of the corridor. They drew their pistols simultaneously and fired, and by some instinct I flattened myself against the wall and emptied an entire uzi clip at them as I ran. \n\nThey dodged every single bullet in their unnatural fashion, but it was enough of a distraction to dive past them and roll around the corner.\n\nFar below on the street, I heard a payphone ringing and I knew it was for me. A bullet whizzed by prompting me to kick into the first apartment - startling a family in their living room as I dashed past firing a volley of rounds blindly behind me.\n\nThe only outdoor exit was the window, and I punched through it at full sprint leaping onto the stairwell on the opposite side of the building - an otherwise impossible jump for a desperate new recruit such as myself, but I was beyond my past limitations now - and it collapsed under the sudden impact, crashing into the stairwell below.\n\nIt didn't matter, I was running on raw animal impulse and used the opportunity to vault ontop of a passing truck, forcing it to swerve eratically into incoming traffic as I clung on for dear life. It plowed into a people carrier and buckled sideways, sending me flying straight towards a brick wall.\n\nI closed my eyes and braced for impact, but something glitched and I smashed against a door instead, sprawling sideways into a grocery store. Oranges and lemons scattered everywhere as I put one foot in front of the other and stumbled back onto my feet, cutting a beeline past the startled cashier and out into the turbulent street.\n\nThe gravelly sound of shoes on broken glass followed behind me echoed on by confused screams, but I ran full pelt for the phonebox and ripped open the door, reaching for the handle as it rang. I looked back at one final glimpse of the world - only for my eyes to widen in shock.\n\nMy hand went up against the glass, and a bullet tore through the earpiece."
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I feel like Writing Prompts have become addicted to the subversions and reversals of classic themes. How about we instead try focussing on quality over being special.
Prove that you don't need to have the Princess suddenly turn out to be the antagonist, or the Knight turn out to only be after her for the money to write something really good.
NOTE: you can have plot twists - but make it in the spirit of the fairy tale.
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[WP] Write a classic fairy tale where the Knight saves the Princess. No strange twists or subversions. Just focus on telling a good story.
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"This isnt a story so much but my buddies lyrics is a story meeting your criteria. Uno momento, must copy paste.\n\nWell the dragons, they breed. Skies overpopulated, \nAnd nobody notices, patches of shaded. \nGrasses and bricks, that form castles that stand \nas a false testament to the triumph of man. \nWhen did all of the heroes stop being selected? \nAnd why can't they be accurately reflected? \nThey say the sword bows to the might of the pen, \nFor the blade's wound is clean, while the ink will bleed in. \n\nChorus: And I know I'm a coward, I know I'm a slave, to the same fucking reasons you'll never be saved, \nBy this unchosen hero, this futile attempt. I will fight for myself, because no one's been sent. \n\nIs it heroes or heroin, that we want most? \nfor the heroes are dead, all that's left are the ghosts. \nThat sing when I'm sleeping, requiems relentless, \nTo the notion that I may one day save the princess. \nbut she isn't trapped, for the trapped one is me, \nlike a crow in the cage of this ugly body. \nI'm the scorn of the fates, bound to be second best, \nbut she's playing that organ that sings through my chest. \n\n(Chorus) \n\nWhen did all of the heroes stop being selected? \nbecause I need one now, and I want him dissected. \nIs his heart made of gold, for mine's heavily gilded, \nand a practical joke by the sick man who built it. \nWell I'll tear off my skin to attract all the beasts, \nSaid you wanted a hero, well you got the least, \nBut I disregard life, 'cause I don't give a damn, \nI know I'm not chosen, but i know what i am. \n\nChorus 2: I know I'm a coward, I know I'm a slave, to the same fucking reasons you'll never be saved. \nBy this unchosen hero, this futile attempt, Unimpressive, unclean, and foremost: unsent. \n\nWell I wanna be the chosen one, instead of this weak bastard I know I've become. \nRiding on the words of a wise, dying man, I know I'm not chosen but I know what I am... \n\nGot these holes in my hands, 'cause I've chosen to dance, \nWith a breakable infant, who carries a lance, \nNo ma'am I'm not your savior, just a passing glancer, \nNo, I'm not your hero, I'm part of the cancer, \nThat's fueling the banter of the homeless man, \nThe end is approaching, so lie while you can, \nOur hero' a rogue, a rapscallion, a thief, \nWhile everyone waits for undeserved relief, \nAnd this force-field's a fortress, this force-field's a cage, \nThis haven's a hydra, forever to slay, \nboxes without boxes, and keys without locks, \nand this just doesn't work: paradoxical oxen, \nsurrounded by farces that you call belief, \nWhere's my catharsis, and where's my relief? \nI'm trapped between a hard place and two mirrors, \nthe illusion ensuing makes my task much clearer. \n\n\nYes this is a plug, tis for Stufy The Sidekick.",
"Gwenyth sat along the stone floor her arms bound by wrought iron shackles. She cried quietly, her once regal dress was torn and dirtied as she sat upon the floor of the ruins. The tower was a abandoned an ancient structure, an old fortification that rose like a broken tooth of the world. She sat in the tower, her sobs filling the lonely air.\n\nAbove her in the dark she could hear the slightest of movements, she knew right away it was the dragon. He had lived in the top floor of the tower, with the roof long since collapsed it had made for a small nest. A small lair where he had lived at the edge of her father's kingdom.\n\nGwenyth could suddenly see a bright orange eye appear above her, large and almond shaped. She could sense the dragon's massive frame hidden in the dark. The bulk of his body blotted out the light of the moon and she could see the eye grow larger as it approached her.\n\n\"Shhhhhhhh child.\" came his voice, a deep rumble that shook the very stone floor. \"Despair not, wallow not. I have freed you.\" he said, his gravelly voice echoed in the abandoned place.\n\nGwenyth felt the fear, the terror again. It rose like a black wave and washed over her. She was shaking, her eyes falling to the floor, her tears streaming down her ivory colored face. She wanted to speak, to yell her anger at the beast but had not the will. The fear had sapped her strength. She closed her eyes and wept as the serpent's eye grew closer.\n\n\"I freed you. Why do you weep so? You are no longer a slave.\" the dragon spoke, his voice tinted with the sound of curiosity. \"Speak woman. I am not your king, I allow you to speak your mind.\"\n\nShe sat unmoving and whimpered. \"You will kill me.\"\n\nThe almond shaped eye squinted for a brief moment. \"You think me a killer? I am no lowly assassin. Do you not know me?\" he said, his whisper raised the hair on the back of her neck and sent shivers down her spine.\n\n\"You are Korithrax of the Vastland marshes... you..... you are known by all.\"\n\n\"And am I the red that sets villages aflame? Do I eat your kings livestock? Am I the black that lives in the pools of Geralsh spewing acid upon innocent travelers maiming women and children?!\" he asked, his voice growing angry at her ignorance.\n\n\"...no. You are not.\" she whispered back. \"You are Korithrax, keeper of the tower. It is said you brokered a pact... a deal with my great grandfather, to keep this place on the border of his kingdom. You were promised this tower as long as his family was protected!\"\n\n\"A promise that is written in stone child. A promise that outlived your grand father and your father and it will outlive you and your children until the day the world ends.\"\n\n\"But why take me? Why steal me away in the night? I was to be wed tomorrow and now I shall be food for the worms!\" she said loudly, for the first time daring to bare her anger to her kidnapper.\n\n\"My promise was to protect the line of Harsfield. A promise I intend to upkeep. That means protecting you from all enemies... even from yourself.\" Korithrax rumbled.\n\nShe dared to stare up, now staring at the orange eye that loomed a few feet above her. She could see his reptilian form in the dark and could make out his immense size. knowing he was a hulk of scales, fangs and razor sharp teeth. She knew not where her courage had come from, but it was flowing from her now. Her wanton lust for the truth was burning, she wanted to know why she would die and why the dragon would break his promise.\n\n\"Protecting me? Protect me from what? Sir Reginald is a noted knight of my father's retinue! He holds land and title and ... and honour! He will come for me! He will save me!\" she said defiantly, knowing in her heart that he would not. He was a lovely boy, a poet really not a warrior. He would bake her bread and bring her flowers. There was no way he could face the dragon she knew. No man could.\n\nThe eye squinted again, as if amused for a mere moment. \"Is that so true? Your knight will come? Reginald of the peasantry? You think he would dare to draw arms against me? No. He will not. He values his life and is a poor man. He will be unfaithful and be untrue to leave you to this fate. He would lead you into a shallow life of lies and untruths. His blood is muddled by common ilk. I must protect you from villainy. I swore to your grandfather and I will ensure no harm comes upon you. I will keep you here until one worthy is found.\"\n\n\"... and how will they find me? When I am trapped here or long since killed!\" she said angrier than before, her voice raising to a near shout. \"He loves me... but he is a man! Only a man! He knows he is no match! You think him untruthful and a coward!\"\n\nKorithrax sneered in the dark, letting out a low growl that shook the stonework and dust fell from the masonry. \"He is a coward! He knows certain death awaits him here! He will cower away! His holdings are a broken down house. His land? A sparse acreage with sickly sheep. His squire is hand less, his horse is a old nag with a lame foot and his fathers sword is dented forged of mere copper! He is not the man for you!\" The dragon growled, stonework falling from the very walls.\n\nGwenyth cowered away and let out a cry of fear. She wanted to speak no more, but her words flowed from mouth like the melting river in spring. \".. and where will you find a worthy man? All fear you! None will come!\"\n\n\"I can easily take the form of men. I will visit the taverns, the temples and the farmsteads. I will find one... one who is a rich prince worthy of your admirations. One who will make a honourable husband who will make for a righteous king!\"\n\n\"No... you will seek one of your own accord. One you will command with fear and the kingdom will then belong to you.\" she said coldly.\n\nKorithrax huffed. \"Nay. I promised to protect your line and I will do so. I will ensure your heritage and protect this kingdom from rogues and liars!\"\n\nGwenyth bowed her head in defeat and the tears came streaming again, terror and fear filled her heart and she wanted so badly to wail. She wanted to shriek and knew her fate was lost, whatever life she wanted was gone. She knew in her heart of hearts that despite her father's kingdom, despite his army and legion of knights that none would come. There in that dark place she was confronted by a ultimate and terrible truth. No one was going to save her. No one loved her. Had she not been bound she decided, she would have ran to the tallest battlement of the tower and thrown herself off. A life without love was worse than any death. \n\nIt was then, at that moment she heard a noise from afar. She suddenly held up her head and saw the orange eye twist to the South. She knew his ears were sharper than her own and she could hear the sound coming louder, cresting over the nearby hills. \n\nIt was the sound of a clumsy horse, a tired old nag with a lame foot. The rhythmic clop of a horse that was giving it's last bit of life. A nag that was running down the road and approaching the tower carrying a man unafraid of certain death.\n\n~El-Fin~",
"The sun, shining brightly through gleefully green leaves wafting softly in the delightful summer's day breeze, served only to amplify Matt's severe and already intolerable hangover. Squinting behind already darkened glasses he pushed aside the feeling of irrational irritation bubbling forth from the alcohol and cheap fast food festering in his gut and focused on the task at hand: coffee. \n\nThe night before had been one of many surprises. Originally, Matt had planned on getting home from work, playing a couple games of League, working on some code, and then hitting the sack. With Claire sick and Maurice on vacation, Matt's week consisted of over-time coupled with more over-time and while the money was good, he yearned for nothing more than a quiet evening alone. Fate, as it seems, had a different plan for him. \n\nAt five-thirty, with no warning nor explanation, the rush began. Within ten minutes there was not an empty table in sight. With both Maurice and Claire absent and no clear leadership, many of the greener servers froze and service came to an almost complete stop. Having worked the job since his sophomore year of college, Matt immediately sprang into action. After stabilizing his section, he got drinks, ran food, and took orders for other servers. While his crew had been caught with their proverbial pants around their ankles, they quickly matched pace and caught up to the onslaught. At close the main floor resembled a battlefield before the carrion feeders arrived more than a restaurant, Matt smiled at the thought while cleaning off a table. \n\nWith the combined effort of the remaining servers, they were able to reset and beautify the carnage in about an hour. As they counted their money, Amber, a cheerfully pessimistic red-head, invited people over to \"drink away the pain\". The offer was met with almost unanimous consent, Matt being the single dissenter. He relented, however, after peer pressure from all sides. *Fine,* he rationalized, *I'll have a drink, make an excuse, and duck out early.* \n\nAmber's was more lively than Matt had expected, evidently, even people with the day off had heard and gathered at her abode to celebrate and commiserate. Tired and weary muscles gave way to alcohol, alcohol gave way to weed, weed gave way to more alcohol and before he knew it, Matt was out cold. He woke in the morning to bodies strewn about couches, chairs, and the floor. Three rooms and a handful of annoyed grunts and moans later, he located his keys, wallet, and phone. There was a Starbucks a few blocks away and the siren's voice called out to him. Taking Geoff's douchey aviators he embarked on his quest for coffee.\n\nAs the sun continued to torture him with its light and heat, Matt pondered the events which had led him to this point. He didn't regret the impromptu party, but every five seconds he thought about throwing himself into traffic to end the merciless throbbing pain emanating from his temples. Soon, he would graduate and get a big boy job, leaving his small family behind. He would miss them all terribly and did his best to treasure the time he had left. A slight grin fought through his hangover and crept over his lips as he opened the door to Starbucks. A wave of refreshingly cool air filled enveloped him as he entered, the dim lighting easing the burden on his strained eyes. He got into the queue of five people and closed his eyes, content to enjoy the hushed ambient noise and chilled air. \n\nShuffling feet broke his reverie and for the first time since entering, he took stock of the person in front of him. A couple inches shorter than him, she sported a loose patterned top, black yoga pants, and flip-flops. Her dirty blond hair fell in gentle curls resting just below her shoulders. She stared mindlessly out the side window while waiting patiently, her sharp emerald eyes lazily tracking people as they exited and entered the shop beneath a small application of makeup. *She probably does yoga and enjoys binge watching shows on Netflix,* he playfully thought to himself. Every time he walked into a coffee shop he almost always fell in love, even if only for a minute or two. She was perfect in every possible wa... A thunderous, deep, and vaguely enraged fart cleaved the quiet atmosphere of the coffee shop in twain. Though it was brief, the moment (and the smell) lingered. Panicked, Matt quickly reviewed the last ten seconds in his head to ensure it was not him. It wasn't. It was her. \n\nThe room was almost silent, a Nora Jones song played obliviously in the background like some piano player who had not seen the tough cowboy enter the tavern. The girl's eyes now stared very intently at some stray lint on her shirt, her cheeks welling up with blood and heat in the wake of the fart. A couple of high school girls at a nearby table stifled hushed giggles, a trophy soccer mom at the head of the line shot back disapproving looks. Had the fart belonged to him, the looks and disgust would have been natural and expected, possibly even seen as childish humor. But since she was a gorgeous young woman who was expected to be attractive at all times, she was given the same treatment as Hester Prynne. And suddenly, Matt knew exactly what he had to do. \n\n\"Sorry, everyone.\" He said loudly.\n\nIt was as if people had been waiting for him to take ownership, knowing full well *it* did not belong to him. And like that, the discreet whispering and quiet shuffling resumed. A couple minutes later he placed his order and joined the rest of the patrons awaiting their coffee. \n\n\"Heather!\" the flamboyant barista called. The girl in yoga pants with the emerald eyes stepped forward to get her drink. As she grabbed her iced coffee, they made eye contact and she mouthed \"thank you\". Matt gave her a wink. His order followed soon after and he immediately took a deep sip. Almost instantaneously his headache was tempered and the rising resounding rage in his gut was quelled slightly. As he stepped out of the shop, the sun felt less harsh, the breeze refreshing. After a quick walk to Amber's, he would pick up his car then enjoy a well deserved day off. \n\n ",
"Dame Mathilde shifted forward in her saddle. Dust, her grey mare, gathered herself and jumped. They sailed over the fallen log.\n\nThey didn't have much time.\n\nFeeling every labouring motion of her mare, feeling horrible for how she drove her best horse so hard, Mathilde squinted against the tears. There was no point in pretending it was dust in her eyes or the wind--she was crying, and she would cry harder if they didn't get to the castle by moonrise.\n\nShe dragged a hand over her belt pouch. The small lump was still there.\n\nWhen they came to the river, to her surprise, there was somebody waiting there: Sir Laurence of Lisieux, wearing a white surcoat and holding two horses on lead ropes. His waist-length red hair flamed in the sun. \n\nMathilde dragged poor Dust to a halt. \"Sir Laurence,\" she said.\n\n\"I heard,\" he said, without preamble. He jumped from his saddle and led over one of the horses. \"Here. This is Mica. He's my fastest horse, and sane and steady.\"\n\nMore tears sprang to Mathilde's eyes. \"Oh god in heaven, you may have saved her life.\"\n\n\"A fresh horse will do that,\" he said. \"There is another waiting for you at Rilles, with Sir Jean. We heard at the same time. He went east and I went west.\"\n\nHer heart lurched. Dust would be safe and well. A fresh horse would buy her precious time, and possibly save her own life as well. A broken leg, a fall, a stumble, could kill both of them Mathilde leaned down to kiss Sir Laurence on his forehead, and then jumped from Dust's saddle straight into Micah's.\n\n\"May the light of the lord be with you,\" she called, and spurred the horse on.\n\nThe sun reached its peak in the sky, and began its long trek to the horizon. Seven hours, Mathilde guessed. She was hot, and she was tired, and after another two hours she traded Micah for a raw-boned, rough-gaited, incredibly fast chestnut mare given over by Sir Jean. He said he'd sent a messenger ahead on a fast horse to the next manor, to look for the sign of the white stag. As with Sir Laurence, Mathilde kissed his brow, and spurred the mare into a gallop.\n\nThe lump in her pouch felt cold and heavy under her questing fingers.\n\nFinally, perhaps two hours' ride from the castle, Mathilde reached the sign of the white stag. Her mare was lathered and faltering, and Mathilde herself was exhausted. There was nobody there, there was no help to be had.\n\nShe slid from her saddle and collapsed on the ground. She couldn't go on, she needed to rest, even if only for a moment. Her sweat-soaked tunic felt cold and rough against her skin. The water in her skin bag was warm and sour, and there wasn't nearly enough. Not enough for her, and the small handful she gave to the labouring mare wasn't nearly enough either.\n\nThis horse would never make it in time. She had no others. To ride the mare even now would kill her, either heart attack or founder, a horrible death for an animal who had been nothing but gallant for the entire hectic ride. To not ride the mare on would be the death of the seven-year-old princess royal, who desperately needed the medicine in Dame Mathilde's belt pouch. The tears of a dragon, willingly given, along with a scale plucked from the dragon's own chest. If only Mathilde could get there in time, the dragon's gift would save Princess Catherine from the deadly fever--if only she had a fresh horse, or wings, or a divine wind and a sailboat of the air.\n\nIf only.\n\nMathilde allowed herself the luxury of a long sob. The mare stood beside her, sides heaving, head down, looking for all the world like she was sobbing along with Mathilde.\n\nSomething nearby rustled. Hope warred with despair--a fresh mount would be wonderful, but it could just as easily be a bird. Mathilde shook her head, and turned to see what it was. \n\nUnder the sign of the white stag stood a white mare, glistening in the late afternoon sunlight, her silvery horn glowing softly.\n\nMathilde's breath caught in her throat.\n\nThe unicorn paced over to the exhausted horse and touched the animal's forehead with her horn. The red mare shivered, and became very still. Liquid gold light flowed off the shining horn and wrapped itself around the poor horse, and flowed, and flowed, until the sweat dried off the mare's coat, and her sides stopped heaving, and her tail raised like a flag, and she lifted her head from the ground. The unicorn pulled back, leaving the mare dancing like a new foal and an iridescent golden patch on her brow. Her hooves shone like gold, her coat gleamed, and there was no doubt in Mathilde's mind she could run until dawn tomorrow if asked.\n\nMathilde gave a silent prayer of thanks to whatever saint had sent the unicorn. When she opened her eyes, the unicorn stood in front of her.\n\nShe closed her eyes again, and let the tears fall.\n\nThe horn was sharp against her skin. Burning energy coursed through her veins, through her arteries, to her heart and lungs and the deepest part of her gut. The power restored her, satisfied her hunger and slaked her thirst. All of the saddle sores and blisters of the ride faded, even as old injuries long half-healed vanished in a golden tide. The pain of the long ride was eased, and, like the mare, Mathilde had the energy to ride until dawn.\n\nThen the unicorn pulled away, and left her with the mare. \n\nMathilde mounted, spurred the horse into galloping, and ran for the castle.\n\nShe was marked for death now, her and the red mare both. The priests of the castle would not suffer either of them to live, not with the literal touch of a magic beast worn as a star on her brow. If she was lucky, she would merely be beheaded; if not, she would be thrown into the gaol under the inner sanctum, and her hair shaved, and her body tortured. She had been marked for death from the moment she began her quest, as the dragon's tears and scales were the marks of a magic beast, but now, not even the hand of the King would save her. The mare might escape if Mathilde could leave her with the guards at the gate and order them to spirit her away, or she might be slaughtered and burned.\n\nMathilde pressed on, rounding over a hill, and with the setting sun at their backs, pressed the mare towards the citadel now in view on the horizon.\n\nThe dragon's gift weighed heavily in her belt pouch.\n",
"Once upon a time in a village called Vareli there lived a man named Hugo. Hugo was in his early 20's and lived a generous life with his mother and father, the village blacksmith. His family had great wealth due to a goldmine they had discovered years prior to this story. Hugo's father, Florian, was able to smith gilded armor and swords sharp enough to cut down a tree in one slice. He used their abundant gold supply to make suits of armor with a beautiful gold trim that would make any man look as if he came down from Heaven as a messenger of God. Hugo also has a pet duck named Cassidy, but she isn't important to this story.\n\n\n\nA few miles from Vareli is the town of Gonato, which is much bigger than Vareli and has a king. The king's name is Jake and he is the smartest and most handsome man within a thousand miles of Gonato. Jake's daughter, Maja, is in her early 20's, studies literature and is fluent in French, German, Italian, Latin, Greek and English. Hugo had met Maja once when she came with her father to discuss a suit of armor Jake wanted to be made for Maja for her 21st birthday. Even though it had been years before this story, Hugo still remembers Maja's eyes being bluer than the water of Navagio Beach and her hair looking like precious Chinese silk. From the moment he saw her, he knew he needed to win her heart.\n\nRight outside Gonato there was a small camp of bandits that go by the name of the River Snakes. There was four of them in this gang of bandits: Bando, Grando, Fando and Alejandro. Bando was the oldest by a year and was the undeclared leader of the gang because of this and by now had a large scar across his face from a small fight he got in after trying to steal a sack of apples. Grando was very skinny with abnormally long legs, making him fast and he was talented at sneaking and breaking into houses. Fando was the tallest of the group and had great eyesight, making him a great watch-out for their crimes. Alejandro was the youngest of the group and joined the gang the latest. His family immigrated from Spain, which they left due to a drought destroying their farm. The four men were friends since they were children and came from poor families. They were always getting into trouble and as they grew older, their trouble grew too. One of their biggest crimes was breaking into King Jake's stable in an attempt to steal horses for the four men. When they were caught, they were thrown in jail and to be hung the next day. Luckily, they were able to break out of the jail and escape Gonato to live in a small camp they made outside the town.\n\nThe River Snakes came up with a great plan for wealth and horses so they could finally leave and start a new life in a town that will welcome them. Their genius plan was to kidnap Maja for a ransom of 500 gold coins and four horses. They figured it would be simple because everyone knows Maja would go for a run in the woods outside Gonato every morning alone and that would make it simple for 4 men to grab her and make some easy money. So that's what they did the next morning. The morning came along and they waited in a bush. A little bit later on they heard her singing a happy tune and they prepared a net and rope. They easily got her and blindfolded her and carried her to their camp. She definitely put up a fight and gave Fando a black eye from a good kick to the face but they easily had her captured. Once back at the camp, they tied her to a chair but kept her blindfold on. It took about a half-hour for her to stop struggling and accept her capture. \n\n\"Who are you? Why are you doing this to me?\" asked Maja.\n\n\"Shut up lady, you're dad ruined our lives and we want them back,\" snarled Bando.\n\n\"What do you mean? What did he ever do to you? Everyone knows he's the nicest and fairest man of all the land,\" responded Maja who was still moving her feet around trying to get out of the ropes which tied her legs to the chair.\n\n\"Doesn't matter what he did,\" snapped back Bando, \"all the matters is that we want what belongs to us.\"\n\n\"You won't get away with this though,\" Maja responded with a growing strong sense of confidence, \"my father has an entire army and will come to find me. He loves me and would do anything to rescue me.\"\n\n\"Yeah, well if he really does love you as much as you say he does, then that'll just make this whole thing that much quicker,\" Bando responded with a small giggle to his voice.\n\nAfter a few more hours, Bando sent Alejandro back to town with a note for the king:\n\nTo King Jake:\n\nWe the River Snakes hav yur dauter and damand 500 gold and 4 horses. Ti the gold in bags to the horses and the horses ti them to the tall tree on the uther side of the canyin by morrow or she ded. And no funy bisness or she ded. If we se yu comin then she ded.\n\nThis note was dropped on the steps on King Jake's estate and Alejandro went running off back to their camp to wait. It only took about ten minutes for the note to get to the King, who was immediately in a panic. 500 gold coins was not an extraordinary amount of money to the King, but it was the idea of giving it to bandits that he didn't like. He also panicked because of the short time frame and knowing he had no way to negotiate or talk to the bandits that stole his only daughter. He ran out of his house without even putting on his royal public clothes and jumped on a horse and rode to Vareli to talk to Hugo's father. The horse ride to Hugo's house was only about 15 minutes from Gonato and Hugo was home with his family when King Jake arrived.\n\n\"Hugo, my boy, there's been a tragedy in the kingdom! We need your help and we need your father's best sword! My daughter, Maja! She's been abducted by bandits! The River Snakes they call themselves, and they demand gold and horses by tomorrow or else they say they are going to kill my sweet Maja! I just need your help with this, you must go and find them and rescue my sweet sweet Maja,\" said King Jake in a panicked voice.\n\n\"Of course I would be willing, my king. But I must ask, why me? You have dozens of trained soldiers and men that would be better suited for a job like this than me,\" responded Hugo, who was now getting very excited about the idea of rescuing Maja and giving him a chance to win her heart.\n\n\"Well you see Hugo, my men are all large and easily identifiable as soldiers. These villainous men threatened to kill my sweet Maja if they think I have sent men to find them. This is why I have come to you Hugo. You look nothing like a soldier, and easily could look like a traveler merely walking to the next town. And you are a great swordsman! I believe you are the perfect person for this! Now quick, get a sword and prepare for this journey! I believe in you!\" announced King Jake.\n\n\"I will do this then my king,\" responded Hugo, \"but do you know where they might be?\"\n\n\"The only time she could have been taken was during her morning run! She must be in the woods somewhere! I can draw you a map of her run route!\" responded King Jake\n\n\"Splendid! Then I will come with you back to Gonato!\" responded Hugo.\n\nThey left back to Gonato together and Hugo went off by foot into the woods on the route told to him by King Jake. After a half hour of walking, he saw smoke coming from an area and snuck over and saw what he had been looking for. A group of 4 men sitting around a fire with Maja tied to a chair behind them. Maja seemed to be unconscious at this point and the four men were laughing and talking, which Hugo could not hear clear enough to make out what they were talking about. He thought about his next move and first looked around to see if there was any other men guarding. The only one he saw that was looking up from the fire every once in awhile was the Spanish one, but he wasn't looking too hard. Hugo still gave thought and decided he would wait an hour once it would be darker out and then sneak in and try to save Maja. He sat on a log far enough away to see them and waited.\n\nOnce it was dark, he still could easily see them all because of their fire but they would have no way to see him. By now, the bandits were all drinking and laughing harder now and were clearly drunk. This would just make it all easier for Hugo to get in and save Maja and get out. Hugo had hoped he would not need to use his sword but kept it on his belt just incase. He crept up behind their tent and rolled into their camp declaring his presence. \n\n\"I am here to rescue Maja! Give her willingly or prepare to fight!\" shouted Hugo.\n\nThis was followed by laughter from all four bandits, who jumped up knives out and walking towards Hugo. Hugo then slung his sword from his belt and pointed it at Fando, the closest of the bandits. Fando was visibly the most drunk and stumbled towards Hugo, who gave a quick slash to his face and giving a cut across his face diagonally from his left eye. Fando, now on the ground holding his face and shouting made the other bandits think twice about their decision to fight. Clearly, Fando won't be able to fight and the other three knew their abilities to fight may have been hindered by the alcohol in their stomachs. They jumped back and put their knives away.\n",
"Sir Darwin is awakened by a sudden bright light piercing through the pitch black sky. Soon afterwards he hears the cries and panicked screams of the towns people.\n\nAs he rushes to get up and get himself dressed and find his sword, he hears one of the towns people cry out, \"The great dragon has returned!\" \n\nDarwin is taken aback for a moment. His eyes go dead and his heart begins to pound wildly. He soon regathers himself and burst through the door of his small cottage only to find the village completely engulfed in flames. He looks around and sees all the towns screaming in fear, frantically trying to put out the flames. \n\nAs Darwin makes his way through the streets of fire, he comes upon a handful of his students. Who, immediately upon seeing him, run straight to his side. \n\nThe young men are in shock and are completely terrified.\n\n\"Men, this is not like your lessons\" Sir Darwin says, \"This is real, and it is up to us to keep the Queen safe.\"\n\n\"But sir how do you know that the dragon is after the Queen?\" asked one of the boys who quivered as he spoke the words.\n\n\"Because this is not the first time the dragon has come for her.\" says Darwin\n\nSir Darwin and the boys rush through the streets towards the castle. They arrive to find that it is completely engulfed in flames. Darwin turns to look at the boys and says, \"remember all your training I've taught. Do not be afraid, for together we shall never never know defeat.\" \n\nDarwin and the boys storm through the castle gates and up the stairs to the queens room. Suddenly they here a loud crashing sound and the whole castle shakes as pieces of stone fall off of the walls of the castle. \n\n\"What was that?\" asks one of the young men.\n\n\"That, my dear boy, was the great dragon.\" Sir Darwin said as his voice began to shake with fear, \"we must keep moving.\"\n\nSir Darwin and the boys once again continue there frantic flight up there massive staircase of the castle. They finally arrive at the Queens chamber. They bust the door down just in time to see the giant claw of the great dragon come crashing through the roof of the room, grab the queen and fly away into the blackness.\n\nSir Darwin let out a soul shivering scream and fell to his knees. He had let down his Queen.\n\nThe next morning after all the fires had been put out, a town meeting was held. It was a mad house. People yelling and pushing each other fights breaking out all over the place. Finally the Kings stands tall and mighty and lets out a brutish cry that immediately silences the hostile crowd.\n\n\"My wife, the Queen, was taken from my castle last night by the vile dragon of Mt. Dornor. I will not rest until she is returned to me safely and without harm.\" The King then looks at Darwin and says, \"Send forth your best pupil good Sir Darwin.\"\n\nBefore Darwin can even move, a young man jumps to his feet and yells, \"I am Jacob my lord, star pupil of the good Sir Darwin's training academy. It would be my honor to rescue your beloved Queen.\" \n\nThe King gives a glance towards Darwin who gives a subtle nod of approval. \n\n\"Then prepare yourself at once, and make haste to Mt. Dornor.\" \n\nWithin moments the town center was completely empty. The only soul that remained was old Sir Darwin. He slowly made his way over to a bucket filled with water. He begins to dip his hands in the bucket, but stops to look at his reflection in the water. His wrinkled face and white beard had both turned black from the smoke. His legs ached and moaned from climbing all those stairs. He sits there for a long time staring at himself. \n\n\"If only I were young again, I could have saved the Queen. My legs are far to old and slow now. I failed my Queen.\" says Darwin.\n\nFinally Darwin reaches into the water, cleans himself, and returns to his home. Exhausted from the events of the night before, Sir Darwin quickly falls asleep. \n\nMuch later Sir Darwin jolts awake as visions of the fire from the night before haunt his dreams. He sits up in his bed and hears a horse approaching. There is a knock on the door. Darwin gets up and answers it. Much to his surprise the King is at the door. He immediately lets himself in, and turns to face Darwin.\n\n\"You must go and return my wife to me.\" The king said holding back tears. \"You are the only one who can.\"\n\nDarwin was very puzzled by what the King said, \"But what of Jacob?\" He asked.\n\n\"Have you not heard,\" replied the king. \"Jacob returned hours ago, injured and empty handed. So I ordered all of your students to go and attack that foul beast together, and bring me my wife back, but only three returned just moments ago.\" \n\nSir Darwin was in shock. He plopped down onto his bed without saying a word.\n\n\"You are the only one who can save my wife Darwin.\" says the King. \"I know you can, for you have done it once before.\"\n\nDarwin looks up at the King and says, \"That was long ago my friend when I was much younger, and much, much more able. Now I would do lucky to even make it to the mountain alive.\"\n\nThe room is completely silent for a few moments, the two old men just stare at each other without speaking. Suddenly the King falls to his knees and takes Darwin's hands.\n\n\"I beg you dear friend, I need you.\" Says the King as tears fill his eyes. \"I Know you can do this.\"\n\nDarwin sits there for a couple moments before rising and accepting the kings request. Without saying a word the King arises and leaves. \n\nWhat seemed like hours past by in a haze, and Sir Darwin now found himself at Mt. Dornor, at the foot of the great dragons lair. Darwin took a deep breath, dismounted his horse, and began to walk towards the lair. It was a massive cave at the foot of the mountain. Luckily Darwin knew exactly where he needed to go. He would follow the same trail that led him to the Queen those many years ago. \n\nAfter just a short time walking he had made it to the heart of dragons lair. He turned a corner to see the great dragon waiting for him. Darwin looked up at the giant, hideous beats, but was not afraid. Darwin believed that he could defeat the dragon. The dragons wings spread open and he let out a cry so loud that the cave began to crumble and rocks began to fall from the ceiling, but still Sir Darwin was not afraid. \n\nThe Dragon charged at Darwin letting out another vicious cry that shook the whole cave. The dragon barely flew under a massive rock hanging from the ceiling in the center of the cave. Darwin began to run to the right, but quickly redirected to the left after the dragon had altered his path towards Darwin. The dragon barely missed Darwin and slammed hard into right side of the cave causing the cave to violently shake once again. Darwin continued to run left, as the dragon recovered himself from his crash. The dragon took a deep breath and shout out an enormous fire ball towards Darwin who barely rolls away in time. Darwin looks up to see that he is directly underneath the giant rock, which is exactly where he wants to be. The dragon arises and once again again charges toward Darwin while letting out another monstrous cry that shakes the whole cave, but this time Darwin was ready. Darwin begins to run away from the charging dragon, who once again attempts to fly underneath the giant rock. Only this time the dragon is unsuccessful. The power of the dragons last roar caused to giant rock to break away from the ceiling and fall directly on top of the great dragon as he attempted to fly underneath it. Darwin quickly changes directions again and heads for the trapped dragon. Darwin draws his sword and thrust it repeatedly into the dragons head until the great dragon finally ceased to move. Dear old Sir Darwin had defeated the great dragon.\n\nHe begins to call for the Queen who quickly emerges from behind a pile of rubble. She runs to him a wittily says, \"You've made a habit of saving my life.\" \n\nDarwin chuckles and says, \"Well there are worse things to make habits of.\" \n\nShortly afterwards Sir Darwin and the Queen ride into the city. They are welcomed by astonished cheers and euphoria. The King runs from the gates of the castle to meet his wife and they embrace each other in pure happiness. \n\n\"Thank great Sir Darwin.\" Proclaims the king.\n\nDarwin simply just nods his head and rides away. He rides back to his home. dismounts from his horse, and goes inside to take a nice, long nap. \n\n\n\n ",
"Colonel Defarge of the Grand Duchy of Heathland tapped his timepiece, the sorcerous runes lighting up to reveal the time as half past noon. Nodding satisfied he whistled for a pair of crossbowmen who came over on flapping wings. They wore shirts of mail that fell to their thighs and open faced helms that did not confine their long tapered ears.\n\n\"It's almost time. Get your fey into position and wait for my signal. Only fire if you have a clear shot- I don't want General Moor's daughter to be harmed. That goes for the Princess Ciara. She still is a bargaining chip should this exchange work in our favor. Bring her out, this will only work if we're completely honest... until we're not.\"\n\nOne of the officers motioned for an enlisted fairy to fetch the young woman and then returned his attention to the colonel.\n\n\"Sir, I must admit I have reservations about this plan. We barely escape with the Princess as it was, to bring her back so close to enemy lines...\"\n\nThe colonel silenced his under-officer was an upheld hand, saying, \"Your concerns are noted, Captain, but this is an opportune moment. Right now we each have a high ranking hostage, soon we will have two, or at least remove an all too often obstacle from our path.\"\n\nThe Princess Ciara appeared royal in every sense of the word, even in a filthy dress that had yet to be cleaned since her capture three days prior. Her hair, though uncombed and done in a hasty braid looked finer than any noblewoman's in a hundred leagues. The cuts and scratches collected since that nighttime ambush did nothing to disfigure her beauty but instead added a cold and deadly character to her aura. She walked with a proud grace despite the heavy shackles round her ankles and wrists, her dark brown eyes staring ferally at the Heathlander officer. \n\n\"Colonel Defarge. Have you come to your senses and seen fit to release me? Or will another one of your soldiers suffer an accident in their handling of me?\"\n\nThe regimental officer dismissed her not-so veil threat with a snort of laughter.\n\n\"Broken fingers and missing teeth do not concern me, your highness. And whilst I admit they've inconvenienced me, I consider the prize worth the cost. A few maimed men and a handful of dead ones compared to the daughter of a king is a favorable exchange anywhere in this forest.\"\n\nPrincess Ciara smiled lupine-like and said, \"And would the addition of a colonel perhaps tip the scales?\"\n\nColonel Defarge smiled tiredly at her words.\n\n\"Unfortunately no. You are not your sister the Princess Fiona and no spellweaver. And however skilled you are with a blade, disarmed you are of no threat to me.\"\n\nThat last line was proved a lie as she brought her foot towards his groin, sending him over in fit of wheezing and moaning.\n\n\"Stu- stupid girl... Have, have her.\" He tried to stand straight, his teeth gritted in pain. \"Have her waiting in the grove with a view of the hollow. I am certain that it'll be Lieutenant Gil Thorn who'll lead the Glen party. Perhaps watching her beloved die in a hail of arrows will improve her bearing.\"\n\nPrincess Ciara's deep brown eyes went wide and she began to speak,\n\n\"You venomous snake...\"\n\n\"I've been called worse things by more dangerous men. She her off; I've an ambush to conduct.\" \n\nWith that the Princess' escort gagged her and hauled her off forcefully, trying to ignore the murder in her eyes. Colonel Defarge tried to pointedly avoid not rubbing *there,* and instead gaze off to the west, taking another glance at his timepiece. \n\n*Soon.* ",
"\"Did you just say Rue was captured?!\"\n\nThe other knights averted their gaze from the pieces of coal that were my eyes. Their reaction told of guilt and apology without any of the words needed to convey them. It was difficult to choke back the fright that was bursting forth from my stomach, tasting mildly like cold vomit and my dinner from yesterday night. I had finally returned from my Quest, and here they were, telling me my *princess* had been kidnapped without any response from the apparently chivalrous knights of the Naltar Kingdom.\n\n\"Bah! I'll set out immediately! Rodrick, prepare Terriam!\"\n\nThe exasperation was too much for me to handle, and just like a flood during rainy days, it overwhelmed the dams of inhibition that had restrained my speech on usual occasions.\n\nRodrick operated efficiently, his months of training as a squire showing their fruits in this time of great urgency. His hands moved fast, swiftly preparing Terriam, a purebred steed who was usually nothing but unruly. His black body was an ominous warning to my opponents, that Arthur the Black Death had arrived on the battlefield. Its pristine fur gleamed brilliantly in the dimly lit stable, a sign of the care and love the groomers tended to him with. The two had developed a rapport after the many practice sessions they had to endure together and now they worked together at lightning speed. As soon as Rodrick was finished, I mounted myself onto Terriam in a flash, urging him on with a gentle kick. We raced off in the same instant and I could feel the billowing wind causing my cape to trail dramatically behind me. Money well spent indeed.\n\nThere is a certain peace you can only feel atop a horse's back. The problems of the world fade away into the background, whether you're galloping at a breakneck pace or cantering about leisurely. The intimacy with nature, with God; it is a feeling of belonging, of love that only a horse ride could provide. You know that your horse, that loyal arse he is, would never allow you to be hurt. It would sooner allow itself to collide with the end of a spear before wanting to buck you. \n\nSo, I was enjoying the gallop towards the Castle of Baron Drake. My chest may have been thumping relentlessly, anxious to rescue Princess Rue from her malevolent captor, but Terriam made at least some of the butterflies go away with his warm hay breath. His swishing tail went in a circular arc, swatting away the flies that desired to leech off me.\n\nThe Castle itself was famous for its towering white walls, made as a display of the wealth that Family Drake possessed. After all, it was indisputably opulent to forge a castle's walls out of marble. A few jewels were adorned in the stone, reflecting the sunlight in such a way that the whole castle seemed to sparkle in the day. It was said that only the King could rival the Drakes in wealth and military strength, and so they often acted by abusing their financial and military clout. They threw their weight around in court, often bullying many of the minor nobles in the absence of the King.\n\nThe Baron himself was the worst one. He was guarded by Ser Bradwr, a giant of a man whose arms alone was as large as the thighs of most men. Bradwr was powerfully built, rather than fat and potbellied, and his muscles were infamous for bulging regardless of the size of the armor he wore. He wielded a broadsword with all the ease that one might swing a kitchen knife, and his swordsmanship possessed all the grace of a butcher as well. Indeed, his physical prowess was the main threat he possessed. The Baron utilised Bradwr well as a deterrent to any aggression. He hid behind Bradwr in every court meeting, hollering insanely biased policy suggestions from behind his back. All the while, Bradwr glared at the other nobles with great animosity, taunting them to question or even speak but praise for his master's words. Bradwr would be a troublesome one to deal with.\n\nAfter a day of hard riding, we arrived at Castle Draco, the stronghold of Baron Drake. It was certainly an original name for their family, but the baron's influence and power within the Kingdom were not to be underestimated. Now that my head had calmed after the ride, I realised why the other knights had chosen not to act. It was not a matter of chivalry and honor. There was none of that to be found in killing a man who possessed no martial strength of his own. For any of us to depose a member of the nobles would have been insane, an act of sheer insolence that even the King would undoubtedly punish. Even so, Rue was *everything* to me. I would bear whatever sins and shame that would come, as long as she lived a fulfilling life. And so, I rode onwards into the jaws of the beast, aware of the perils that would befall me.\n\nAn entourage of gristly guards had already been readied at the castle's gates. I swung my sword in two half-moon arcs within the blink of an eye, my blade swooping to lop off their tender necks in an instant. Terriam just continued riding at his galloping pace, having fought with me enough to realise my skill with the sword. I could sense his panting, the exhaustion he was facing in the rapid breaths he took to continue even walking. He was barely staying afloat above the fatigue of a day's worth of hard riding, but I needed him to keep enduring the agony for just a few minutes more. \n\nI whispered soothing lies to him before urging him onwards, into the murkier depths of the castle. Along the way, I tried my best to avoid conflict, but there were inevitable casualties along the way, as we swept our path clear of all obstacles. I dismounted when I reached the main hall of the castle, aware of the dangers that laid ahead. \n\n\"We've dirtied their carpet enough with your muddy footsteps, Terriam. Now, the only thing that will touch their carpet is scarlet to enhance their colors, alright?\"\n\nI grinned with false cockiness at Terriam, to reassure him of my certain victory. He gazed at me sideways, his eyes shiftily scouting out the area. He knew what I was trying to do instinctively, but he trusted me anyway. I ran ahead towards the Baron, my armor clink-clanking as I made my way towards the Giant and his Goblin.\n\n",
"Once upon a time, there lived a boy who was a close friend to the princess of a rival town.\n\nThey, despite the many warnings made by their fathers, were close to one another, often seen sneaking pieces of raided pies from the marketplace vendors and chasing each other in the meadows that rested between the two towns.\n\nFor many years, the townspeople tolerated their friendship, many secretly hoping that it would lead to a truce between each other.\n\nHowever, on the boy's fifteenth birthday, the uneasy peace between the rivaling factions was shattered as rumors of the princess being kidnapped spread and sparked an almost palatable bloodlust in the girl's people.\n\nStarted by a rejected suitor, the rumor forced the princess into hiding, as nothing would stop the villagers from battle, even after the many years of hope made by her friendship with the boy.\n\nAs she fled town, the princess saw her people lining up along the meadows, pitchforks and torches in their hands and unbridled rage in their faces. That day saw many lost lives and homes as they tore across the land, ravaging the soil and fields.\n\nThe boy, miraculously surviving the carnage, also fled, seeking shelter in ancient ruins that were mysteriously shunned by both villages. \n\nAlong the dusty, crumbling walls, he studied the drawings and runes carved from centuries ago, not noticing sacred magicks flowing into him from thin air.\n\nDecades pass as the villages continue warring, the boy's town nearly destroyed. The boy had grown up, though the knowledge and power he had gained from the ruins had aged him much further.\n\nReturning to a skeleton of his once proud land, he searched for any sign of the princess, desperate for a familiar sight after many years away from what was once his precious life.\n\nDespite his efforts, he was left with the sobbing of his defeated people and the ever burning husks of houses that were scattered around him.\n\nUndaunted by the horrid sights, he marched towards her town, revenge oddly not flickering in his mind.\n\nNearly speared by the town guards, he was stopped at the gates, a grim look beginning to spread across his face.\n\n\"Where is she?\" he asked. The guards laughed, then told him to leave. \"She was kidnapped by your kind boy. Why would she be here?\"\n\nIrritated, the boy whisked them away, blue mist streaming from his fingertips seemingly grabbing the guards and carrying them off. \n\nIn the princess's home, her father was pacing across the room, incredibly nervous due to her extended \"disappearance\", not knowing a beast had slain her escorts and taken her back to its lair. \"My dear, where are you?\" he mumbled.\n\nThe boy burst through the door, not giving the leader a moment's thought as he confronted him. \"Where is the princess?\" \n\n\"I have not a clue you foolish brat. And you were lucky to have survived.\" \n\n\"That may be sire. But I am back now. What are *you* doing?\" the leader was struck. Here he was worried sick about his daughter, and this cur was lecturing him. But the he also had a point.\n\n\"I'm not doing anything at all dog. It is not like you have any reason to care about her. Look at what my people done to your sorry kind.\" \"That is besides the point. I do not care for you or my people or anyone else right now. All I care about right now is your daughter. Please, help me sire.\"\n\nAgain, the leader was taken aback. Intelligent and straight to the point, this was not the thieving boy he observed years ago. \n\n\"As I've said before, I do not know where she is. I sent her off faraway to hide in the forests, but I have not yet heard from my servants. I trust that you will find her?\" \n\n\"I will.\"\n\nThe boy calmly stepped out of the house, and journeyed towards the forest. Now worried sick about her, he defeated the monsters that attacked him every step of the way, either restraining them in the trees they jumped out from or transforming them into tiny critters that angrily nipped at his feet.\n\nStories of his battles spread around the forest, and eventually the beast that had kidnapped the princess sought him, angry that he had invaded his land. \n\nThe boy, like with all the others, asked the beast where he kept the princess.\n\nThe beast replied, \"I ate her. Why, may I ask?\" undaunted by the boy's skinny appearance. If this was what it had been hearing so much about, the beast wanted it to fight with full force.\n\nThe boy snapped in an instant, calling forth a hazy blade of red that he gripped in his hands. Charging the beast, he began carving up its skin, nearly deaf to its cries and pleas for mercy.\n\nAs he prepared to stab the blade through its heart, the beast stared him down, and through bated panting whispered, \"She's alive boy. I kept her in my home. Do not kill me, and I will lead you to her.\"\n\nThe beast lead him through the ever darkening forest into the near twilight swamp where his lair resided.\n\n\"Here boy. Just look into the cave from here and you'll see her alive and well.\"\n\nPeering into the beast's lair, the boy felt its claws cutting through the air behind him. \n\n\"Traitor.\" the boy ducked down, and whispered for his sword. Different from his earlier one, it shined in a darkness that seemed to suck in the little light around him. He charged the beast yet again, than pierced through its beating heart. \n\nHe watched the life fade from its eyes, and now guilty, slowly rested the body against the side of the cave wall. \n\nMaking his way inside, the boy saw her. She looked just like she had years before. \"Princess, I'm here now.\" \"Oh, my dear friend, I'm so happy you came here.\" She embraced him, but just as quickly pulled back. \"But, what happened to the beast that had kidnapped me?\"\n\nLooking down, he told her. With a sad smile, she embraced him again. \"My dear, what's done is done. Your heart was in the right place, and I would have done the same.\" He looked up, seeing tears forming in her eyes.\n\n\"Besides, it is not your fault for the war. I'm so sorry for what I've caused...\" Sobbing, she sank to the ground. The boy comforted her, and later returned her to her home. Safe at last, the princess ceased the onslaught between the villages and fostered peace between the previous enemies. And they all lived happily ever after.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n",
"My grandfather was a strong man-- steel-blue eyes, hands of stone, arms of iron. He was as cold and immutable as the walls of a castle... but he loved us. I was the eldest grandson, born to hold a blade and sit a horse whether I liked it or not. The old man was the first to see me for who I am, to realize that I'm more inclined to fight with my mind than my fists. He and I are much alike, though he bore the scars of years.\n\nHe always reminded me of a castle's walls, in a way. Immutable, impossibly strong. No man could move a stone of his being. He was an anchor in my life, though I see now that we are much alike. As a young boy, I'd sit on his knee and hear his tales... stories of impossible lands, incredible people.\n\nAye, you can't imagine his voice. Soft gravel, with a depth that vibrated within your body. I can never remember him raising his voice, but there was an air about him. He was a natural leader, an oak among willows. His shield, blue and silver, carried the image of a standing bear. Though he was my mother's father, it's the blazon I now carry. I have little pride in my father's house.\n\nI never saw him as a killer of men, nor do I see myself as one. He was six-and-a-third feet of heavyset muscle and bone and even when we saw eye-to-eye he seemed to tower over me. I never minded, though. He was never threatening, despite his gruff manner and hard hands. I only remember him as a fair and just man.\n\nHis blade rests in my scabbard, his helmet on my head as I ride toward the castle walls. I feel his blood flowing in my veins, his banner flowing from behind my destrier. Although my father's family can only give me a position as a second-class knight of the realm, my mother's parentage gives me an honorary selection for the initial assault.\n\nMen fall next to me, bolts embedded in their chests even through their steel. An enemy knight stands before me, and I swing my hammer in an arc my grandfather taught me, crush the man into submission. A primal shout escapes my lungs, and he topples from his horse.\n\n\"Mercy!\"\n\nI don't feel merciful. His head crushes under my hammer, brains leaking out his ears, blood staining my weapon. A quarrel penetrates my left pauldron, and I break the shaft off without thinking. My tabard begins to stain, royal purple instead of midnight blue. I grit my teeth and ignore the pain, dismounting. The castle walls loom overhead.\n\nA press of men gathers at the portcullis, struggling to enter. They're damaging the gate, but I see the pot overhead. Boiling oil, screams. I block it out and advance, swinging my hammer to clear steaming bodies out of the way. These men are dead, though they don't yet know it. Better a quick death.\n\nI find the gate, stepping over the bodies of men I once knew, through lumps of flesh now burned beyond recognition. In my rage, I raise my hammer and swing. Dolorous blows ring out across the battlefield-- once, twice-- the portcullis ringing like a death-bell. On the third blow, the wrought iron twists, buckles. I crush my way through with sheer strength.\n\nTwo men try to stop me now. I roar and charge, my armor fitted to provide fleet movement. Someone tries to pour burning-hot sand through murder holes, but somehow I remember my grandfather's lessons. Sidestepping is second-nature, and I'm saved. One of the men raises a crossbow, and I throw my hammer. His face is crushed, and he screams even as blood and teeth rain down. Drawing my grandfather's sword, I face the second man.\n\n\"Sir Collins, of Sladdenborough?\"\n\n\"Aye. You must be Sir Viard, of Kelseyton.\"\n\n\"The one and same.\"\n\nWe begin to circle, hungry beasts. I avoid the murderholes by instinct, watch my foe. He's the captain of the castle guard, a legend in certain circles, almost certainly a sadist. He steps in, and our blades cross. No help is coming for me, not in time.\n\nI begin to feel weak, losing blood. He grins, sidesteps, swings. I manage to parry, but I drop my shield. His blade kisses my left elbow through the joint in my armor, and another rivulet begins to flow. Swinging hard, I gash the dragon on his shield. The man is left uninjured. He smiles at me as I sink to my knees, weakening.\n\n\"And so dies the more-or-less noble house Collins,\" he taunts me.\n\n\"I'm also half Sladden,\" I manage to reply before collapsing to my side. I'm too weak even to die on my knees.\n\nHe kicks me onto my back, laying me out next to the dead man-at-arms. I raise my arms to protest, and he pricks me again through a joint across my abdomen.\n\n\"Now, now, Sir half-Sladden,\" he mocks me, \"I must insist that the first man through the gates dies well. It would be inhospitable of me to give you anything less than a gloriously painful death.\"\n\nHe flips up my visor with the tip of his blade, wanting to see the look in my eyes, the pain. I writhe, and my fingers clench around something hard. Staring at Viard's blade, I see something-- blue steel... strong hands. I swing wildly.\n\nMy warhammer arcs in flight, my hand slipping off, and impacts with Viard's knee. I grab for my blade and leap onto him before he can recover. Tearing off his helm, I see his face.\n\n\"Not today,\" I growl, before I bring the sword's pommel into his nose.\n\nHe, too, begs for mercy. I still don't feel merciful. Spattered with his gore I make my way into the castle, sword in hand. Men stand before me, but they're only shapes. I come to a wooden door at the top of a tower and splinter it with my sword.\n\nA beautiful woman stands next to the window, crying, one foot on the ledge. We look at each other, and I see her weight shift.\n\n\"No... wait.\"\n\nShe hesitates. I don't know what to do. Killing men is easy, but I wasn't prepared for this. Slowly, I remove my helmet and set it next to me. Somehow it seems to ease her-- though hazel eyes in a scarred face hardly seem comforting. I let my gauntlets clatter to the floor as I approach her.\n\n\"You're hurt.\"\n\nI nod, unsure of how to respond. She tears strips of silk from her dress and stuffs them into the wounds as best she can. I try not to wince.\n\nFinding my voice, I rasp out \"I'm here to rescue you.\"\n\nShe looks at me and raises an eyebrow. \"Who said I needed rescuing?\"\n\n\"Well,\" I shrug, \"then I guess I'm just here.\"\n\n***\n\nNow I sit in my grandfather's seat next to the fire, two good hounds at my feet and a princess for my bride. It's amazing how men will make concessions about inheritance when your wife is the future queen. My blade, my grandfather's blade, hangs above the mantle. Someday it will belong to my sons.\n\nI still don't consider myself a killer, nor does my wife. Our marriage is happy. Even without a castle, that would be enough. Of course, being wealthy doesn't hurt.\n\nWhen my children sit on my knee, or run their fingers across the calluses on my rough hands, I realize-- my grandfather still lives, for I live. As long as a Sladden sits in Sladdenborough, the great man will never die. I may not bear his name, but I bear the lessons he taught me. That's also enough.\n\nIf my sons are half the man he was, they'll be better men than I. Though they bear royal blood, they also know the lessons and love I was given.",
"The glare from Sir Rodrick's scratched, old and dented armour shone right into Desmond's eyes. \n\n\"Sir,\" he called, whilst walking, \"Sir, could you please slow down?\" \n\nHis master stopped and turned. \"Am I going to fast for you, squire?\" \n\n\"A little.\" He peeped, \"I've only short legs.\" \n\n\"Right,\" Sir Rodrick replied, \"I'll try, but you must also try to keep pace.\" Rodrick began walking again, and Desmond followed suit. He judged they were merely a league south of the old castle. *What was it called?* Desmond thought to himself, *Yorik's Den? No, that's north of here. Was it the Seaside Front?* Desmond tried to recall the name of the old place, though now he had heard it was more rubble than anything else. *Ah,* he thought, smiling, *Rubble's Front!* \n\nThe two neared a hill and began climbing it slowly. They'd been denied horses, on account that no one thought the princess would run this far west. What was the point on wasting them on an old knight and his no-name squire? \n\nSir Rodrick gave Desmond a small pat on his leather jerkin, \"The castle's beyond this hill, lad.\" He said with a reassuring smile. \n\n\"Think the princess ran this far out?\" Desmond replied, un-slinging his bow from his shoulders. \n\n\"You never know.\" Sir Rodrick ran his fingers through his short hair, now more grey than black, \"I'd hope so. Imagine if we were the ones to bring her back, eh?\" Desmond looked to the knight and smiled at the thought, \"Sir Grandfather and his squire, rescuing the king's daughter.\" \n\nAs they reached the top of the hill, Desmond spied the lone tower, standing amongst a heap of blackened rubble, the sun beginning to set slowly behind it. \n\nBy the time they reached the mass of black rock and stone, heaped up alongside charred wood, the sun had well and truly set. The knight had donned his helm and drawn his sword, whilst the squire had his bow in hand, ready to nock an arrow if need be. \n\n\"Princess Alaine!\" Sir Rodrick bellowed, hands around his wrinkled mouth, \"Princess, are you there? Do you need assistance?\" \n\nThe chirping of crickets was his reply. Desmond walked closer to the tower, looking for an entrance, when he saw something glinting in the moonlight, just behind the wall. *Oh God.* He turned and motioned to Sir Rodrick who saw him and followed quietly. \n\n\"I believe someone is behind the tower... I think I saw something in the-\" Desmond was interrupted by the clank of mail and the heavy footfalls of a tall man. Desmond whirled to see that from the tower appeared an armoured man, six and some feet tall. \n\n\"Leave this place, knight and squire.\" He commanded through his helmet's visor, \"The princess has no want of you.\" \n\n\"The hell she doesn't,\" muttered Rodrick, clasping his sword firmly, and taking stance. Desmond nocked an arrow to his bow and drew it to his ear. \n\n\"Very well.\" The tall knight said. *I bet he is smiling underneath that helm,* Desmond thought, *Let's put an end to that*. Desmond aimed high and let his arrow fly. It sunk into the knight's breastplate, causing him to stumble. \n\n\"Let another fly,\" whispered the knight as he took another step, \"I dare you.\" Sir Rodrick motioned for his squire to stop and took a step forward to meet his foe. \n\nThe tall knight unsheathed his long sword and held it tightly. \"Make your move.\"\n\nRodrick did. He slashed upwards at the knight, and then again from the side. Steel met steel, and the blades rang out. Rodrick danced back from a swipe and replied with a lunge to his opponent's chest. It was deflected, but only barely. The tall knight lifted the sword above his head, and brought it down with force enough to cleave through rock. Sir Rodrick danced aside, missing the blade by a hand-length. His opponent hesitated. *His sword his stuck in the earth,* Desmond realised. Rodrick caught on quick, and swung his sword across his body, the sword being caught be the tall knight's neck. \n\nHe let out a groan, soon followed by what Desmond could only assume was the sound of blood rushing into his lungs. He fell to the earth with a mighty *thud*. Sir Rodrick wrenched the sword free and pulled up his visor. \n\n\"Up the tower it is then,\" He said, between deep breaths. \n\nThe winding stairs leading every upwards, were thankfully devoid of other knights, looking for blood.The two reached the wooden door, that once opened, lead to the top room and stood there in silence. Desmond put his ear to the door, listening. From inside he heard the soft sobbing of who he assumed was the princess. He nodded to his master, and stepped aside to let him open the door. \n\nInside stood a sobbing young girl, white dress ripped and sodden with dirt, a pale blade to her throat. An equally pale hand covered her mouth, stifling her sobs. \n\n\"Leave,\" a high voice called, it's owner appeared from behind the girl, \"Leave and tell the king I want a ransom.\"\n\n\"That won't happen, boy,\" Rodrick called. \n\n\"I want three thousand crowns, and a pardon.\" He said, ignoring the knight, \"Otherwise I'll kill her. I'll kill her and throw her from the tower.\" Rodrick turned and looked to Desmond, still at the top of the stairwell. He pointed to his bow, and put a finger to his lips. Desmond nodded.\n\n\"Look here, boy. If you kill the girl, you won't escape with your life. Drop her, drop your knife and run, you'll have a chance.\" \n\nThe boy's hands were now shaking, \"No, I... I won't.\" his voice quivered, \"Leave. Leave now.\" \n\nSir Rodrick turned again to Desmond who had an arrow nocked to his bow. He nodded slowly. Desmond drew back the bow as quietly as he could. \n\n\"I'll give you to the count of three lad... One.\" Desmond held the bow string tightly, aiming it at Sir Rodrick's head. \"Two,\" Sir Rodrick shook his head, readying himself to jump aside. \"So be it. Three.\" Rodrick dove to the left, leaving Desmond faced with the princess and the small boy sticking out from behind her. \n\nHe moved his bow to the left, and as quickly as he could he let the arrow fly. \n\nWith a *twang* it was over, the would be assassin dead on the floor. Sir Rodrick consoled the princess as he helped her down the stairs. Desmond trailing behind. \"It's over,\" he whispered to her. She nodded through snobs. \"You'll be home and safe before the morning.\"\n_________________________________________________________________________________________________ \n\nEdit: Fixed some grammar and spelling issues. Might I add that this was a surprisingly fresh prompt. Isn't it bizarre that one of the most cliched ideas imaginable was oddly *original?*Anyway, I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it. "
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How are they dealt with whether it's a cure or jail time.
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[WP] write a story where zombies are about as common and annoying as the cold.
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"*Thump*\n\n\"No...\"\n\n*Thump*\n\n\"No no no...\"\n\n*Thump*\n\n\"Aw godDAMN it!\" I threw the covers off my bed and groggily rose out of bed, the occasional *thump*ing stirring me from a good night's sleep. \"Ugh...I'm gonna feel this at work.\" I muttered as my palms massaged my eyes. I didn't get enough sleep most nights as it was already, having these lumbering doofs waking me up at 2:30 am wasn't helping much either. I grabbed the spade next to my nightstand and threw on my robe. City law dictated that any infestations had to be dealt with in proper gear but about 6% of people had the time and patience to follow *that* law. \n\nI opened the shutters to see the nasty corps gnashing at my window, occasionally bumping its forehead against the glass. Hollywood had done an excellent job of making us fear a situation like this, but when the outbreak suddenly started, people didn't expect the zombs to be so...dainty.\n\nThey couldn't stand up to much force and barely had enough strength to keep themselves upright. By simply opening my window it lurched forward, the top half of its body slumping into the window frame. Before it could even attempt to finish climbing through the window, or right itself, I shut the window in top of it, trapping it an awkward, L-shaped position, its arms outstretched towards me.\n\nI walked out my front door and approached the rear of the dead,its front half still scanning the room, wondering how I had so suddenly disappeared.I rose the shovel above my shoulders and brought it down in a golf ark, easily lobbing off the thing's lower legs. I grabbed its belt loops, and pulled the stumped creature back onto the lawn, face -down.\n\nWithout their legs, they actually weren't even strong enough to flip themselves over, and the moans were muffled by the earth. I unlocked my phone and quickly called Z-sqaud, the locally owned, 24 hour disposal service. They arrived to pick up the remains within half an hour and I returned to bed. \n\nAs I lay staring at the ceiling tiles, part of my brain felt tempted to contemplate the disease in its entirety, and try to come to grips with how long things like this could last. I briefly wondered if I'd ever end up like one, but I was very tired, and if I didn't have Richardson's reports by 11 AM, I wouldn't hear the end of it. \n",
"\"Ayla, zombies are in the fucking lawn again, didn't you remember to spray it?\" I called to my girlfriend irritated. \"I may have forgotten, sorry babe.\" I groaned at headed out with my equipment on and a bat. One of the zombies walked towards me and I hit it hard in the neck, causing its head to roll off. The other zombies looked towards me startled and slowly made their way off the lawn. \n\nA quick glance down at the zombie I had just killed showed that it was going to take forever to clean up, time I didn't really have, \"Ayla, I killed it you clean it up.\" I heard a sad groaned from inside. \"Hey, it's not my fault that *someone* forgot it was zombie season, and that that *someone* also forgot to spray the lawn.\" Ayla came out blushing with a large bag and a shovel, \"Will you at least take it to the Incinerator?\" She pleaded. I nodded, \"It's on the way to work anyway.\" She sighed in relief and began cleaning up the mess. "
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[wp] Aliens land on earth, everyone is nervous. But the aliens completely ignore us and only have eye for one thing: strawberries.
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"\"Luscious red hearts.\"\n\nThat was the message that pervaded all of our devices before they came. \n\nPeople panicked, of course. They left the cities in droves, hoping to hide themselves under trees and mountains. Hoping that if they could not be spotted from above, then the aliens would not know they existed. Never mind that the aliens could be tracking their exoduses from their homes. We didn't know how many there were, or what powers or technology aided them, so they could very well have a bead on every single person -- on every single \"luscious red heart\" -- on Earth. \n\nThe militaries of the world tried fighting back, but it seemed the ships were impervious to every known weapon. It did not matter that the aliens did not fight back, but the ships continued to hover, and everyone could imagine that, at any minute, they would open and blast away at every iconic city landmark. Goodbye, New York. Goodbye, Paris. Most people who has ever heard of an alien invasion movie knew that cities with their tall buildings and high concentrations of targets would be the first to go. So they fled to unrecognizable places that would likely never be mentioned in an alien guidebook. They didn't have any better plan.\n\nMy family and I paused at the side of the road. The car ran out of gas, so Mom and Dad directed for my sisters and I to gather all our things and head for the copse of trees. We would camp there. \n\nWe laid our equipment in a tight cluster. Mom sprayed insecticide on us, worrying aloud about ticks. Dad tried to get the bearings of the area. He was sure there was a creek nearby, and the ground was dry enough for us to find kindle for a fire. My sisters and I were put to the task of gathering some twigs. I did not like the idea of roaming around. I stayed within sight of my sisters, but I was sure we were not the only ones in this area. \n\nI came upon a strawberry bush, its berries small and pale compared to the ones I used to seeing at the supermarket. Idly, I wondered if they were safe to eat, though I certainly was not going to be the first to try them. \n\nI bent down to pick up some branches. A shimmer caught the corner of my eye. I turned and saw a filmy silver hand pluck some of the strawberries off the branches. \n\nThe filmy hand led to the equally filmy lips of a bulbous head. The lips elongated to a strange kiss as the creature sucked on a strawberry. \n\nThe creature smiled. (I think. Who knows if aliens' expressions had any similarity to ours?) The twangy voice that followed seemed to mean it was satisfied with its find, as it uttered, \"Luscious red hearts.\"\n",
"They named the event *The Iris*. \nIt was visible from the day side of both hemispheres, an astronomical event in the sky larger than the moon. At first it appeared to be a bright circle of shifting electromagnetic light - like a cosmic rainbow - then it began to *spiral* open, like a blooming stellar chrysanthemum, rainbow bands irising out to reveal a black core, with a fleet of starships instead of anthers. The 'mothership' in the middle of the fleet was twice as large as the other rainbow tinted vessels, hence it was dubbed the 'stamen'. \nAs abruptly as the event began, it ended. The iris closed and spacetime returned to normal, leaving behind an orbiting fleet of alien ships. \nThe US government responded first, trying to contact the ships. After their failure, progressive countries also attempted to communicate, but met with the same result. \nWhoever these starfarers were, they either couldn't talk to us or didn't *want* to talk to us. \n\nAs the weeks turned into months, probes were hurriedly built and sent up to study the ships. \nInitial readings showed very little. They didn't put out radio frequencies of any known band and their electromagnetic footprint was tiny. The hulls were built of an unknown alloy that reflected the ultraviolet spectrum. \nThe shape of the ships was lenticular but slightly irregular; no two ships were exactly the same configuration. Before the probes could get close enough to attempt to dock with one of the alien ships, a pulse of *something* erupted from the side of the vessel and fried every instrument on board the craft. \nStudying the distorted last images from the probe, several scientists noted a regular pattern along the side of the ships. \nThey were built of hexagons. \nCongress voted on whether or not this constituted an 'act of war' but ended up abandoning the vote as the public got wind of their proceedings. \nWhoever the aliens were, they were massively more advanced than us. \nThe American people didn't want their government bringing Nukes to a Deathray fight.\n\nThree months after the iris had opened, the ships began to move. \nHeading for Australia, they brutally crash-landed into the western desert - seemingly without any care for the damage done to their massive ships. \nThe reason for this became apparent as a *swarm* coalesced around the fallen ships, stripped them down to the hexagonal plates and began to build a colossal hive. \nExobiologists were excited and surprised; these apoidea-like creatures recycled *everything* from the crashed vessels, including their dead. The newly minted 'Earth Government' headed by the USA wasn't so impressed. It looked like an invasion to anyone with half a brain and before the hive was a quarter built, several ICBMs were deployed. \nDespite appearing to have no real technology, the 'Apoideans' detected the missiles some way off from the hive - thousands of them rushing off to meet the nukes. Like primitive terrestrial bees being assaulted by a wasp, they simply surrounded the device with hundreds of their dog-sized, tangerine and violet striped bodies, then heated the nukes until they either burned out or detonated under the stress. \nIn either case, the attack was a failure. Exobiologists estimated that less than 0.001% of the hive's resources had been expended disarming the nukes. \nGiven the rate at which they appeared to be breeding, it hadn't even made a scratch in their numbers.\n\nArmed forces were sent in next, mobilised from around the world. Everyone suspected there was a queen that had come down with the largest ship, now ensconced within the completed megahive. Winter had arrived and the Apoideans appeared to be hibernating, just like their terrestrial counterparts. \nThe attack was an abject failure. The finished, closed hive couldn't be breached by conventional weapons. The ultraviolet hexagons were apparently indestructible. \nEven short-range nukes deployed against the surface left nothing but reflected radiation and a crater in the desert, revealing how far down the structure went. \nIt was hopeless; humanity had nothing that could harm these beings. \nUnable to communicate and unable to eradicate, humanity gave up. Like our ancient ancestors throwing stones at a wasp hive, we eventually decided the risk wasn't worth the effort. \nWe left the Apoideans alone. \n\nThe exodus from Australia resulted in millions of refuges worldwide. The continent was declared a lost cause and left to the invaders - who began flying out again once spring arrived. \nCombing through the countryside, they stopped and sampled all the local flora, taking samples back to the hive. Billions of their six winged, six legged bodies covered the continent and none of the Australian refugees regretted leaving. \nWithin days of the initial reconnaissance the Apoideans began terraforming the deserts and cultivating *something*. \nDrones disguised as the alien bees were flown in to study the phenomenon from a distance. \nThe aliens were growing *strawberries* and cultivating hives of terrestrial bees to work for them. \nBaffled, the world continued to watch through the media reports released. The invaders appeared to only be concerned with turning the entirety of Australia into a staggeringly large *strawberry farm*. All other plant life had been eschewed; native Australian flora and fauna was relentlessly destroyed. \nNo longer was Australia the land of poisonous creepy crawlies and terrifying reptiles. \nNothing remained but *apoidea* and *fragaria*. \n\nFive years after the 'invasion' the iris opened again. A sleek ship erupted from the megahive, escaped our atmosphere and vanished through the wormhole. \nWhether the ship contained honey, pollen or strawberries, no one knew. The hexagonal surface of the transport ship was as inscrutable as the megahive itself. \nHumanity had learned to tolerate the Apoideans - stolen terrestrial bee hives showed that the aliens had re-engineered our native bee species to overcome not just the varroa mite, but also to become resistant to all common pesticides. \nIn a curious way, the aliens had rescued humanity from the impending disaster of the collapsing bee populations. \nFor the price of one continent, we had been saved. "
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[WP] Describe losing your virginity as a movie review. You are one of the most highly regarded, and harshest film critics ever.
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"When sexual experiences are brought to my attention my enthusiasm about reviewing them follows a fair trend. When they are very good, such as the 11 PM-3AM session following I love you Starring Janet Monnigan Directed by Cesar Campos I am very Enthusiastic. When they are Okay but not great I am usually fairly bored such as the Sexual experience featuring Liza Gaijic following three beers and nachos among friends Directed by Jay Washington. When they are horrible I am as excited to review it as I am to review good experiences such the event starring Maria Porata in a cold basement on a running washing machine Directed by Robert Williams.\n\n\nAnd then there is the loss of virginity on his mothers couch after birthday cake with Angela Flier Directed By Joseph Alva. \n\n\nWhen I have to review such horrible experiences my enthusiasm plummets. Its so bad I can't even begin to think of how I will even review it. Shall I describe every agonizing moment to you in all its depressing detail? Or shall I attempt to give you the full disappointing picture?\n\n\nThe fact of the matter is that our star is clearly grappling with her buried lesbianism, and the director we are supposed to be rooting for has no idea what he is supposed to be doing, but figured it couldn't be that hard. It is another classic case of the director focusing far more on getting participants in the theater than actually being effective once they were there.\n\n\nVirtually no climax present, little to no effort on either participants parts, a crippling low budget, and devastating effects on both participants future work. 1/10\n\n\n(Events are real, names obviously changed) ",
"If I awarded for effort, I'd give it a 10/10. Unfortunately, I do not. When you get right down to it, nobody involved knew what they were doing. The girl was terrified and obviously enjoyed none of what happened, and the guy, well, the less said about him the better.\n\nIt started off OK. They had protection in place, a decent amount of build up and the enthusiasm to do this. But it all fell apart so quickly. She was in so much pain it wasn't even funny, and he was so blinded by lust that he didn't notice.\n\nThe whole ordeal lasted 2 minutes, but it felt like 2 decades. He definitely isn't getting another try and I applaud her for that.\n\nAll in all, it could have been much better, but it could have been a lot worse.\n\n3/10\n\n(Not my virginity loss story, but one of my friend's.)",
"When this sexual experience was brought to my attention to review, my first thought was \"Are you kidding me? This girl obviously has self-esteem issues and the guy is on crutches. This is either the perfect storm of low expectations or someone's handicap fetish.\"\n\nMy growing curiosity on the matter encouraged me to proceed with the viewing anyway. The college dorm room seemed an appropriate backdrop for the train wreck I was expecting to witness. My first impressions had been correct, the lady had obviously never had any kind of intimate relations before. The man, despite his physical limitations (his hips seemed fused or frozen in place), was indeed very gentle and patient with the young lady. He had obviously been down this road before, and knew how to handle their situation. He never rushed, although it was brought to my mind to question if he even would have been capable of speeding things up had he felt the desire to. The girl looked to be full of emotions, enjoying the new sensations this activity offered to her. Her mood seemed to change however, once she turned her head and saw the giant Britney Spears (Hit Me Baby One More Time era for that matter) poster staring down at her from his roommate's side of the dorm room. The awkwardness she first exhibited returned as her partner grasped hold of the bed's headboard to gain more leverage as he reached his climax. \n\nMy initial thoughts may have been misguided. Although this had all the typical signs of a college-aged girl's first time, there was a genuine feeling that each person was giving the other exactly what they needed. The scenery could have been updated to match that mood, Britney's school-girl attire didn't play well with the maturity these two partners exhibited, as I'm quite sure the lady still remembers vividly. \n\nIn all, as far as first sexual experiences go things could have gone far worse, which fortunately for this girl didn't seem to be the case. 7/10\n\n",
"There's one thing I have always regarded as the greatest quality. That quality is integrity. When you display to me that you have no integrity, there's not much you can to do to retain your relationship with me. When Janet Shattuck walked in the bedroom, in nothing but a long shirt covering her breasts and genitals (the shirt was the antagonist Perfect Cell from the manga and anime *Dragon Ball* with the humorous caption \"This shirt is perfect\") I knew that she had no integrity. She explained to me that she loved me, but her performance was tacky at best, and insulting at worst. As she slid into bed, my penis became more and more rigid, which took a very long time considering how disgusting this woman was. As we cuddled I realized that she had not washed her hair. This type of malcontent is what is *ruining* the sex industry. Throughout the entire ordeal I fealt this feeling of dread, realizing that I might father the children to this...*she-beast.* Her movements were erratic, frantic, as if she knew how bad she was doing and was trying to fix it. Her constant moaning was loud and I was nervous that it would wake her roommates. Her thrusts were offset, and it was difficult to keep rhythm. Her head was one of the better parts of the whole thing, untill she CHOKED on the seven. The fact that she coughed while swallowing my sperm was alarming. If there was one word to describe this woman stealing my virginity, it would be *sloppy*. The effort put into the sexual encounter was minimal, and it showed. Overall this was the worst night of my life. Sometimes I wish I could remove it from my mind with the mind-wipe thingy from *Men in Black*, which for all of you kiddies out there, is something that *doesn't* suck. Overall I give this a 0 out of 10."
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[WP] An old, gnarled man is whistling quietly as he walks on the plains, carrying a sack full of mysterious items. Describe in the third person his journey and role in the world.
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"The old gnarled man walked the plains, whistling a tune to himself. His skin was leathery, baked--forged from years in the harsh sun. He had walked these plains for what felt like an eternity. Yet still he pushed forward. With each footstep, his knapsack of mementos pierced the air with a clamor of noises. He felt a strange aura as he walked. One he felt ever since his strange journey began. It told him to continue. To never stop walking. And to never lose hope. So he walked the plains, smile on his face, airy tune always able to be heard. His memories were faint. Fuzzy almost, but nonetheless there. He would sometimes sit and recollect on having a wife and children. He thought about there smiles as he walked. He stroked the beard on his face as he took in the air of the plains, which reminded him of a fishing hole that he knew, just knew, that he had visited several times before. He took a moment to sit down. As he did he incurred the bag on his back and laid out his possessions. He had a cast iron pot, one from his kitchen. It was old, much like himself. It saw very little cooking these days. There was no food to cook. No fire to cook it with. He set it down, only to pick up a stitched doll. He ran his fingers through the blonde hair and saw a little girl, begging him to play with her. His eyes became misty from tears as he remembered. His daughter smiled as they played together. He immediately put the doll away as it stirred too many memories for the old man. He wiped his eyes and picked up the remaining item. A handful of sticks, smeared with mud. He stared intently, waiting for the memories to flood his mind. He stared at the sticks and suddenly remembered more than he ever wanted to. He saw a thatch hut. Not just one, but several. A joyous people all living together. From the smallest to the oldest, everyone had smiles on their faces. The old man smiled as well. There was dancing and singing. No soul went unfed. He found people of his skin and rejoiced at the memories of his people! He rejoiced for the surge of hope that he might one day find them! Suddenly, violently, he was torn from this memory. He found himself in his hut. Holding his wife daughter close. He could hear screaming villagers and the galloping of several horses. His nostrils burned from the smoke of a large fire which he only guessed consumed the village. He began to cry with his family, unsure what to think. He was overcome with a sense of terror. He heard the door to his hut being kicked open. A group of large, roudy men came through. Their clothes looked like nothing the man had ever seen before. They wore fabrics of green and hats of red. They carried black devices, which the man assumed were weapons. Speaking a language he could not understand, one of the men approached him. He continued talking but the old man had no words for him. He spoke not his tongue. Then he lifted the black weapon to his face and the old man began to shake. He prayed under his breath, as his family wrapped tightly around his arms. Then with a bang and a flash of light, the old man found himself back in the field, gasping for air. His face fell into his hands as he curled up and began crying. Then around him he felt a new presence. Not of the aura that pushed him forward, but a spiritual presence. He stood up on his knees and saw a tree, not too far from him. He left his possessions where they lay and began walking. His walk shortly evolved into a sprint as he found himself smiling more than ever before. The closer he got, the more he could see. Through a large cloud of light, he could make out his wife and his daughter. He ran even faster, smiling, even laughing all the way. His pace grew, and he felt ethereal as he ran. Then, he was consumed by the light. \n\n",
"What is a man?\n\n\nA man is an individual that is making his way into and through the world that he makes for himself. Days of yor, and past, we had the plains to conquer and the skies to see, the rivers to tame and the forests to seed. \n\n\nBut come the industrial revolution, our cities become the world. No need to tame the rivers, we've already done that. No need to travel the world, the world comes to us. Seed the trees? We're cutting them down! \n\n\nFor men, their livelihood, their dreams and their worlds existed all in one place: the cities.\n\n\nThat was not to be the case for Benjamin Pratchett. A man of London himself, his fortune was not in talents or gimmicks or inventions. His was in telling tales, spreading stories, expelling the myth of the city and engulfing young minds in the notion of worldly wonders. His mind stood on the line of madness and brilliance. A truly fine line to stand upon.\n\n\nWhile his journey was humbling and started off small, it was in small part due to his upbringing.\n\n\nHis father was a diplomat. His frequent travels allowed him to see the larger side of the world, the bearings of politics, the tremendous efforts that men would go to create the illusion of control, the marvels of diversity, of homogeneity, of tolerance, of intolerance, the pure joy of unravelling the wonders of the world.\n\n\nSo, it was no wonder that after boarding school, he went off, following in his father's steps. He went to Africa, the Orient, the Outback, visited the Czar's palace, the Kaiser's China garden, the Stockholm's archipelago, kissed the feet of the Italian priests.\n\n\nSo, when it finally came to the New World, the Wild West, the whole and the hearty, he was an old man. An experienced man, a learned man.\n\n\nIt was on a plains like this somewhere north of Coventry where he learned this song that he was whistling, pack full of odd and mysterious things that he was able to see plainly that the New World was a world on it's own.\n\n\nAn old gnarled man to some, but to others, a man of wealth, the world's wealth. A tramp to some, a traveller to others. His role altogether though, was not quite defined as we would like to think, not like an accountant or a king.\n\n\nHe was simply there in the world, to remind us that the world exists beyond the border of our eyes, that the secrets of the world are waiting to be explored, to be uncovered, and that we, while sitting at our desks, studying, learning and perhaps working, are only a small cog in a clock.\n\n\nHe serves to give us spirit, to motivate us to expand our world and instead of waiting for the world to come to us, to go forth and seek the world.",
"There is nothing unusual about the gnarled old man walking across the plains. His type always followed the conflicts: refugees who needed to scavenge the battle fields to survive. The soldiers paid him no mind as he went through the dead, looting what precious little remained of value after the soldiers had their pick. After he was finished taking what he could, he buried the bodies he looted. He could always tell the well liked soldiers. They had valuables left on them; a payment to ensure a proper burial. The last battle had been a good haul for him. The enemy had been completely routed, meaning that many things of value were abandoned in the haste to retreat, and the victorious soldiers had not had time to loot as they gave pursuit to the enemy. He had gotten two new pairs of boots, rations, a new cloak to see him through the fall, and a new rucksack. This alone would have been enough to see him through the winter, but he had gotten more besides. He looted spices from an abandoned cooking cart, silk from an officers tent, and from a fallen mage he had looked everything: a wand, jewelry, and many alchemical ingredients. The value of these items would be enough to get him back on his feet. For the first time in a long time, the scavenger had hope. This was why he walked across the plain alone, away from the trail of the army. He walked towards the horizon, and towards a better a future. "
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[WP] A Gardner grows increasingly desperate in his fight against rabbits.
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"The gardner hunkered down behind the overturned wheel chair panting and clutching his shotgun.\n\n\"How did it come to this? How did it come to this?\"\n\nBehind him his garden burned. He could feel the heat on the back of his neck. Beside him shadows danced in light of the fire.\n\nThen he saw it. The shadow of a rabbit. It was coming closer.\n\nHe pumped the shotgun and stood up yelling, blasting the rabbit away, leaving just blood and fur on his grass. To his right a group of rabbits turned from the fire, their little nostrils flaring.\n\n\"You fuckers, you motherfuckers\" He yelled as he racked and fired racked and fired as the rabbits advanced.\n\nWhen the shotgun was empty he threw it away and pulled out the machine pistol, he fired behind as he retreated towards the house.\n\nHe locked the door behind him and charged upstairs to his room. His desk chair had been moved to the middle of the room.\n\nIt spun slowly, revealing a single rabbit.\n\n\"How the fuck did you get in here\"\n\nThe rabbit sniffed at the arm.\n\n\"Yeah, well, fuck you\" The gardner raised his gun and pulled the trigger.\n\nClick.\n\nThe gardner looked down at his gun, then up at the rabbit then back over his shoulder as he heard the door smash apart downstairs, then back to the rabbit, then to the gun.\n\nHe released the magazine and fumbled for another one. It felt a little bit light. He looked at it.\n\nIt was empty.\n\nThe gardener looked up to the rabbit.\n\n\"How did you\"\n\nThere was quiet padding on the floor behind him. The gardener turned towards the rabbits.\n\nOne hopped forward and lightly tapped his heel with its nose.\n\nThe gardener fell to the ground as rabbits poured through the door and hopped up onto him.\n\n\"Nooooo\" said the gardener reaching a hand up through the mob of bunnies \"Noooooo\"\n\nWhen the rabbits were done they hopped away leaving nothing but a stain.",
"Day 203\nWhy has God cursed me with such a plague? They do not stop. Relentless balls of long eared, carrot munching fluff- they come in their numbers to gorge themselves on my poor greens. A terrible scourge on my lands. If only there was a way to stop them...\n\nDay 211\nI've found the little blighters ring lead, \"Peter\" they call him. With his little blue jacket he mocks me so. Why does a rabbit even need a jacket? I can't begin to fathom a reason, I think I'd rather not try to conceive of their dark ways. I'm only too sure it'd be because of something evil. Some things can just be too fluffy, it's not right.The furry locusts shall have their comeuppance, this I pledge.\n\n\nDay 223\nAha! Progress, the little bastard has only just gone and left his stupid jacket and shoes (wtf, I know right?!) in my garden. I shall adorn my scarecrow with the clothes and bait the brute. I feel the day of retribution is close at hand.\n\n\n",
"Mike Donald asked German astrophysicist, Handel Mandel, “Will it kill the rabbits?” \n\n“I don’t know.” responded Handel Mandel. “Like I said, it’s experimental technology. The Animal Paralyzer 2000+1 has only been tested on rats, but theoretically it should be able to immobilize any animal that enters its paralyzing zone.”\n\n“I’ll take two.” Mike Donald said happily, holding a wad of cash, bundled by a rubber band, in his hand \n\n“I only have one.”\n\n“I’ll take one.” \n\nHandel Mandel reached in his lab coat and pulled out a tiny green pulsing dome with a square base. “That two million dollars?”\n\n“Um it’s two-hundred thousand.” \n\n“Eh.” Handel exchanged TAP2000.1 for the Mike’s money. Handel flipped through the Benjamins. “Why didn’t you just hire an exterminator?” Handel asked curiously.\n\n“I did, they couldn’t do anything. These aren’t your typical rabbits…”\n\nMike Donald drove his tractor out of the city and back to his farm. He drove a good thirty miles per hour and returned to his farm after an hour. He went to the field of cabbage and planted TAP2000.1 to the ground between in the center of the middle two rows of where they should have been cabbage. The device beeped twice and the green pulsing light turned red. \n\nAfter Mike placed all the bait cabbage he bought from the store in the rows, Mike went to into his farmhouse and went upstairs to go in the room with the window that oversees the cabbage patch. He begins his watch. \n\nMike’s eye began to droop, and it was nighttime, when he caught the shadowy figure of a giant Rabbit in the distance. The rabbit, the size of a Tractor, was hopping towards the field of cabbage. Twelve more rabbits followed it from behind. As the army of giant rabbits got closer, Mike could see the scars on their body caused by his gunshots. Some had chunks of meat missing from the grenade he had thrown. \n\nThe head Rabbit was just about to touch the first row of cabbage, when it suddenly stopped, stood tall, and held out one leg. The twelve rabbits behind it all stopped hopping. \n\nThe head Rabbit pulled from its tail a carrot. The Rabbit threw the carrot. The carrot arched over the first six rows of cabbage and landed right on TAP2001. The device made a loud shrieking noise, and then exploded. The blast made a small crater in the middle of the cabbage patch field. The head Rabbit was holding out his arm, and quickly put it down. The rabbits behind it began moving into the cabbage field and picked up the surviving cabbages. All but the head Rabbit proceeded to carry the cabbages in their mouths and hopped away. The head Rabbit stared up at the window and looked right at Mike Donald. The rabbit moved its arm slowly across its neck. It then hopped away.\n\nMike Donald landed on his knees and cried. All his life he just wanted to be a gardener, but nobody told him he’d had to deal with tractor bunnies. Mike went outside to the crater. He lowered himself into the crater and cowered into fetal position. He waited for the Rabbits to come and get him. \n"
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[WP] You are an astronaut on Apollo 0. All the later missions were a desperate attempt to undo what you did.
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"I made it. This is it. I'm about to make something of my life. I'm an astronaut! Honestly I don't know how I got here... Part of the first moon landing! Sweet deal. Not that anyone will ever know. Seems kind of sad that our country won't share in the legitimate first landing. But I totally understand. Can't have such a thing air live... Gotta have a \"narrative\", they say. Meh.\n\n\"Think we'll ever come back...\" James groans meekly, more as a result of immense mental stress than an actual attempt at worthwhile communication. He sounds like he's on the verge of tears. Poor soul. To him, all this is a removal from the natural state. From homeostasis. To me, it is fulfillment. Transcendence.\n\n\"I don't know, man...\" I say, not helping the situation.\n\n\"Who even put you on this team?\" James says.\n\n\"'ell, We've... got a job to do,\" states John. \"That's just... it.\" Melancholy and fearful, yet trying to keep the team operational. You're trying, John.\n\nI don't understand these two dudes next to me. They're ruining my vibe, apparently scared of death. Or, more accurately, the unknown. Pah! THIS is life. The vast majority of human beings won't come close to what we are about to do.\n\nBut that's why I'm here with them, I suppose. I'm not a scientist or a pilot, or whatever. I'm me. The type of man that dives headfirst into the unknown!\n\nLaunch time! My brain is alert. Sparked and ignited. \n\nRocketing into the astral realm! Wicked sick. My soul is exultant.\n\nThe men next to me are grunting and groaning from both the stressful situation and the physical force of the rocket. I even hear a little growling. I join them somewhat. I'll admit it does feel unpleasant.\n\nThe force lets up. We are now in orbit. \n\nThree days later we will be on the moon.\n\n\"Now all we have to do is sit tight for three days.\" Says James, somewhat relieved by the break. John is busy checking that everything is as it should be. I stare out the window and imagine that I see a gorgeous space mermaid giving me eyes.\n\n...\n\nJohn finishes whatever he was doing at the controls. \"It's time, fellas.\"\n\nI'm in the landing module almost before he finishes his sentence. James is on the verge of hyperventilating. I overhear their conversation behind me.\n\n\"James. Listen to me. Quit whining and Git! He takes a look at his instruments. \"Hurry!\"\n\nJames scurries into the landing module and closes the hatch behind him. We suit up. \"Ready.\" There is a jolt, and then we are on our own. It begins.\n\nFirst burn. It isn't immediately apparent that much is happening, but we just set a collision course for the moon. James is quiet and withdrawn. I am mostly adrenaline.\n\nThe surface is closer now. Second burn. James is completely absorbed in his work. John comes in on the radio. \"Looking good. You're about to make history, buddy.\"\n\n\"Yeah, good job.\" I contribute.\n\nThe surface is very close now. James is burning every once in a while, trying to find the landing spot. There's the temple! James is very alert now. I unexpectedly feel chill and dreamy at its sight.\n\nImpact is imminent. James' expertise is made manifest in all it's glory. \"Props.\"\n\nTouchdown.\n\nJames reports breathlessly. \"We have touchdown.\" Huff. Huff. \"We do not appear\" Huff. \"to be\" Huff. \"sinking into the surface too much.\" Huff.\n\n\"Proceed.\" \n\nJames opens the door.\n\n\"So... Which of us-\"\n\n\"You.\" James cuts me off.\n\nI oblige him. Oddly enough, I still keep the dreamy mood from earlier, just more... floaty. I take several steps without thinking. The critical moment slipped past my mind. I see the temple looming in front of me, covered in a psychedelic bas relief that I cannot convince myself isn't moving.\n\n\"Far out, man.\"\n\nJames waddles up next to me. \"Hoo lee shit.\"\n\nThe temple is a crescent shaped wall that is highest in the middle and slopes to the ground a the sides. The semicircle floor is also covered in bas relief. There doesn't look to be a doorway anywhere... \n\nBut there is a crescent altar at the middle of the wall. With a symbol shaped like a human hand at the center.\n\nYeeess.\n\n\"Don't you even *think*-\"\n\n\"Doin' it!\" I place my hand on the symbol.",
"(Slightly different approach to the prompt, but following it sorta)\n\n**\"This is Apollo 18 to Ground Control, come in Ground Control.\"**\n\n*\"This is Ground Control, we hear you Apollo 18\"*\n\n**\"We are nearing the area of interest awaiting further instructions\"**\n\n*\"Understood. Locate the landing area on top of the planet, and land. Be careful not to jostle the craft too much, as there are volatile materials on board. Do you understand?\"*\n\n**\"Yes, sir.\"**\n\n[A moment of silence.] \n\n**\"Tell me, what exactly happened in the incident I was told in training?\"**\n\n*\"You were already informed of all that you need to know.\"*\n\n**\"C'mon, it's the least you could do. It's not exactly easy piloting this craft, and I want to know what to expect if anything goes awry.\"**\n\n*\"Well, I don't see how it could hurt. If you are successful today, the results of the incident would no longer pose a danger\"*\n\n**\"See, more reason to tell me.\"**\n\n*\"Alright. Let's see, where to begin. \n\n\"During the space race in the 1950, NASA launched the first Apollo mission- Apollo 0. Now, the lab geeks were messing around with some very new and very dangerous technology. I've no idea how they got their hands on such a thing, but from overhearing some of the older fellows, I think that we might've gotten them from Tesla.\"*\n\n**\"Tesla? You've got to be shitting me man. His last big contributions were decades before the space race.\"**\n\n*\"Hey, it's them that said it, not me. And it wouldn't have mattered if Tesla had died, the government seized most of his work. Didn't want anyone finding it and pulling off another Tunguska I guess. So, this new technology was going to blow the Rooskie's minds and show them who was top dog. January 1^st, 1965 was the launch date for Apollo 0. We had the best scientists of the time working with us. The craft was loaded onto a launch pad, and once the countdown finished, it was launched.\n\n\"It was two years before anyone heard anything from the craft. signal was lost within minutes of the launch, and it was assumed that it had exploded or something and everyone died. The project had been very hush hush, so they put the crew of five as having died in some submarine or other accident that conveniently landed their bodies at the bottom of the ocean, and unable to recover. Poor guys, their wifes and children never found out.\n\n\"Anyways, January of 1927. Tesla's ideas had been scrapped and the geeks at NASA were ready to launch another craft next month. During a training exercise, a fire broke out in the cockpit and killed all the passengers except for one. Poor bastard, he was really shaken up, and talking about charred creatures with glowing eyes and sharp claws. Couldn't get anything else out of him, on account that he ate a bullet when he was left alone for two seconds. Filched a guard's pistol, he did.\n\n\"Inspecting what was left of the craft, it was obvious this was sabotage, and it didn't take no genius neither. There were large gashes in the walls, and carved onto the chest of each crew member was a name of the crew from the Apollo 0 mission, and this weird eye symbol.\"*\n\n**\"Jesus man...\"**\n\n*\"Tell me about it. Anyways, top government officials started to drop like flies shortly after this, and each one of them branded with that weird ass symbol over their heart. The family of Apollo 0's crew all disappeared over night without a trace. Each subsequent mission was to find out what the fuck had gone wrong, and to fix it. Which is where you come in my friend. You do your work good tonight, and this whole nightmare will be over. You got that?\"*\n\n[Silence]\n\n*\"Hey man, don't fuck around, this shit's important\"*\n\n[Silence]\n\n*\"Shit. Hello, this is Ground Control to Apollo 18, can you hear me? Hello, Apollo 18?\"*\n\n[A crazed and raspy voice responds]\n\n**\"OH HELLO THERE, TELLING A STORY ABOUT US WERE YOU!\"**\n\n*\"Shit, shit, SHIT! Commander! Get your ass in here, there's something you need to see!\"*\n\n[Clattering and running sound as **XXXXXX** runs to get the commander]\n\n**\"Oh yes, yes, bring your little commander in here, let him see our marvel. We hurt for so long, and wished for death, but it would not come. But now we are free, and we are angry. Yes, and you will feel the hurt too, yes you will. You'll feel it too, YOU ALL WILL FEEL IT!\"**\n\n[END TRANSCRIPT]",
"We fucked up. Should be the title to my life. Whoever is reading this, if someone ever does read this, will never know who I am. They swore us to secrecy before we even knew what the mission was, but for the money they were offering I did not care how many waivers and contracts I had to sign. I was a washed up pilot who barely made it out of flight school, I was going to take almost any job I could get my hands on. You are probably getting tired of hearing about how bad my life was before I went on the mission.\n\nWe arrived at the mission site at 23:00. We were all in our own cars because we had to be briefed individually and separately. I was brought into a room and told about where I was going to be flying too. They were so specific about the whole thing. Finally after we were all given our specific task we had to meet in the main briefing room where they told us about our joint operations. It was a boring presentation since I was staying in the CM for most of the mission.\n\nOnce 00:16 came around it was time to strap into the launch vehicle. The launch was going to happen at 01:00. We got in the rocket and prepared to leave the planet. It wasn't until the airlocks sealed that I truly realized what I got myself into. Once we finished the pre-flight check list we heard a voice over the radio telling us we had a call. They transferred the call to our flight radio and we heard his voice. It was Kennedy, but he did not sound like the charismatic man I had always heard. He seemed worried and had dread in his voice. He thanked us for volunteering and that we were doing our country and our planet a great service. Then he said, \"Good luck boys.\" Then the call ended. If I ever felt like I had a purpose in life, it was at that moment.\n\nThey came over the radio again and said to start the engines. 00:58 the rocket started to shake back and forth as the count down started. As 00:59 came around I could hear the man counting down start to choke up as he got down to the last ten seconds. Then liftoff. We were all pushed back into our seats as the rocket blasted up. It was all normal and then I had my first experience with weightlessness. Now I had felt it with a few planes, but it felt different to me. Being above the atmosphere and having just felt a shit load of Gs was probably messing with me anyway.\n\nOnce we were in orbit we were going to make for rotations around the Earth before we would make our attempt to escape the Earths orbit and follow our course to the Moon. It was going to be a four day trip of floating around in a pressurized tin can, but it was not until the half way point between Earth and the Moon that we had our first problem.\n\nIt was my turn to sleep. We had to sleep one at a time that way two people could be controlling the ship at the same time. I had been asleep for about fifteen minutes when it happened. It was the pop that woke up. It was the bang that made me piss my pants. I quickly floated up and got into my chair and assessed the damage.\n\nIt there was an emergency light on the control panel it was going off. The people back on Earth were yelling over the radio while we figured out what the problem was. Then everything went dark. The ship was silent. I looked over at the other two with the emergency lights shining on their faces. We did not know what to do. Was the ship dead? Was our oxygen going to run out? For supposedly trained professional we lost our shit.\n\nThen as quickly as the power went out it came back on. Everything was back to normal. All the emergency lights were off except one. Water tank three had failed. Mission control was yelling over the radio again.\n\n\"Crew respond!\"\n\n\"The fucking water broke.\" I replied. I had never heard people be more happy to be cursed at. We performed a diagnostic and found out that the tank was not sealed properly and after a two days of building pressure it exploded and it caused a short circuit that made the whole ship think it was dying. Luckily we still had enough water to complete the mission.\n\nThe next two days went by smoothly and we entered an orbit around the Moon. This was when my secret briefing came into play. I had to get us to a certain orbit with a certain height that allowed us to send the LM to the proper landing zone. I was watched as the other two got into the LM and detached from the CM. They descended down until I could no longer see them then I passed behind the Moon and lost communication.\n\nWhen the radio came back on I could hear the LM crew talking about being on the surface of the Moon. They were the first men on the surface of the Moon. The mission sight was a two kilometers North of the landing sight. I wondered why they could not land closer, but that was classified. I never understood why they were so nit picky about our individual info. It was not like me telling the other two what my course corrections were would ruin the mission, but now that I think about it I am probably one of the few people that actually know the course corrections.\n\nIt took them forty five minutes of hopping around to reach the mission sight. They were then told to change radio channels so they could only speak with each other and the scientist back on Earth.\n\nIt was quiet on board the CM while I watched the surface of the Moon pass by my small window. I was getting bored and decided I was going to make a dumb decision. Now willingly making a dumb decision in a space craft around the Moon is in itself a dumb decision, but I decided to mess with the radio. I tried connecting to the channel the rest were connected to, but to no avail. Then as I was about to enter the dark side of the Moon again I caught the signal. I only caught it for a few seconds, but I will remember what I heard for the rest of my life.\n\n\"I opened it.\"\n\n\"What the hell is it doing?\"\n\nI lost the signal and sat next to the radio waiting come around the Moon. As I came to the horizon I could hear muffled radio chatter. Then I heard the worst three words coming from mission control.\n\n\"Abort the mission!\"\n\nThey kept repeating it over the radio over and over. I quickly asked them what happened.\n\n\"What the fuck is going on?\" I asked.\n\n\"Plot the trajectory to escape Moon orbit.\" Mission control responded.\n\n\"When do I rendezvous with the LM?\"\n\n\"You don't.\"\n\nYou don't. I did not want to hear that. Just as they said that a light shined through my window. I looked out the window and saw a light coming from the surface of the Moon. At the time I was in shock to think a light on the Moon was hitting the CM. Then mission control came back over the radio.\n\n\"Get out of there now!\"\n\nI put my hand on the throttle and got out of the orbit. I had never thought that even in my worse dreams that I would be returning to Earth alone. I always thought we would all be fine or we would all die together. The trip home was horrible. I was alone in that fucking pressurized tin can, thinking about what happened on the Moon.\n\nI finally landed and was put into quarantine. After a few days of quarantine I was brought into a small room. In that room their were three men sitting at a table. I sat on the other side of the table and the three men debriefed me. Now I had never seen these people before and kept asking about the people who were running the mission. They did not answer. I was given my payment and full and I was told that I was never to speak of the mission again. Then they sent me on my way.\n\nIf was not until a few years later that I met one of the old mission operators. He told me that they were going to use our old mission specifications to go back to the Moon. He said they were going to try and fix what we did up there, even though neither of us knew what happened exactly.\n\nTo this day I do not know exactly what happened up there, but I know one thing. We fucked up. ",
"Oh, don't get me started. \n\nI hated working with amateurs, still do as a matter of fact, _if_ you're looking for anyone - my range runs more to elderly mentors and wise old men than strapping young astronauts nowadays, but there's still a bit of the actor's fire in these withered veins - \n\nSorry, of course, back to the story. I was between jobs - just finished a run as Banquo off-off-_off_-Broadway - when I got a phonecall from Kenneth, asking if I could just pop down to an audition, a bit out of the ordinary but perhaps an opportunity to network, and so on. \n\nIt was the oddest audition I'd ever had, Kenneth looking distinctly tense flanked by these two government goons in wrap-around shades. \"If you could just go again from _To sleep, perchance to dream..._\" he said, and I complied as gracefully as I could while the two G-men sat impassively taking notes. I can't imagine that what they were looking for overlapped very much with Kenneth's ideas, but either way, I was glad to be out of there. \n\nI got the letter a few days later. Official government letterhead - very nice - and strict instructions to burn after reading, et cetera. This I did with my last match before jumping for joy. It looked like a solid gig - a couple of months filming down at Cape Canaveral, then some press junket, and all of it with free food. The latter was the greatest selling point, I shall be honest with you. I was beginning to look like I had been cast as a political prisoner on hunger-strike and come over all method.\n\nThe actual job was a dream. We glomped around in those ridiculous moon-suits on a soundstage, saying authentically all-American things. Of course, we had to re-record all the dialogue later so the could add that authentic space crackle to it. Don't ask me how, I'm not a sound engineer. Strictly in _front_ of the camera, darling. \n\nThe G-Men were still about, acting thoroughly over-serious. They got me to sign umpteen non-disclosures, if you can imagine, I don't think they'd even _heard_ of Brecht. We had daily briefings where a four-star general would lecture us on the importance of a PsyOps victory over the reds. I didn't have the heart to tell him half the cast were card-carrying communists. They did insist on that PsyOps word, too, no matter how much we called it Theatre. \n\nWe toasted the actual rocket going up with champagne, since that happened to be the day we wrapped. No-one was on it, of course, but I wasn't disappointed in that at all. I had my adoring public to return to, and the big city - one does tire of the provinces. \n\nIt wasn't till I was back home that the problems really started. Somehow they'd completely forgotten to hire a Continuity Girl. Almost all the footage had something wrong. Boom in shot, flags don't work that way in space, et cetera. Of course I didn't notice at the time; I'm an actor. \n\nAnd the director! Moody little German that he was, screaming blue murder at their reshoots. Apollo One went up to fix us, but the next nine were just him going for additional takes. That farcical _Thirteen_ came when they threw out the script and hired a notable disaster-flick screenwriter. He stayed in his lane as much as possible, I suppose.\n\nThey couldn't re-use me on any later shoots, something about giving the impression we had a sizeable astronaut corps. More's the pity; the money was good, but there's hardly an ageing actor about who hasn't been - er - a \"man on the moon.\" \n\nDrink? "
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You've had the day from hell. A flat tire caused a car accident so you spent the day on the side of the road and at the hospital. You are fine, but you have missed almost all of your daily routine.
By the time you make it home, you walk in to find everything you own neatly packed for moving. On your now plastic covered desk is a note signed by you and beginning, "By the time you read this, I will have already killed myself..."
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[WP] You find a suicide note on your desk signed with your name. You didn't write it and don't want to commit suicide.
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[
"*^(Rain drops keep falling on my head... )*\n\n\nThe line from the song keeps repeating itself over and over in my head. Sure, its raining outside. But I feel a storm brewing up inside me as well. \n\n\nI've had a rough day. First a flat tire, then an accident. Then a trip to the ER. Ten stitches. And a $2500 bill. Not covered by insurance. Car totaled, so a cab ride home. Another $160. And then, as soon as the cab exits the highway, the f---ing rain. \n\n\nIt's enough to drive a man insane. \n\n\nAll I want to do is go home to my clean little apartment and have a good sleep. Maybe I'll wake up with a clear head. Maybe tomorrow will be another day...\n\n\nI can see my apartment building now. Another five minutes, and I'll be comfortably lying on my bed.\n\n\nThe cab stops in front of my building. The bill's $210 now. Not enough cash on me, so I hand over my credit card. Another $2 transaction fee. Great. Just f---ing great. \n\n\nThe rain drops are now literally falling over my head. Huge drops, with lots of force. I am soaked to the bone just walking up to the lobby. \n\n\nThe lift is out of order. Of course. \n\n\nA slow climb up six flights of stairs. My stitches hurt with every step. Wincing and heaving, I make it home. \n\n\nAh, home sweet home. Maybe I should get a tiny picture saying that. Maybe it'll cheer things up a bit. \n\n\nThe front door is unlocked. Fuck!\n\n\nI gently push the door in. \n\n\nEverything's gone. Just gone. Vanished.\n\n\nI tiptoe to the bedroom. Cardboard boxes are neatly lined up against the window. I can see some of my stuff inside one open box. \n\n\nThat's when I see the letter, kept on top of a box. \n\n\nI open it. \n\n\n\"By the time you read this, I will have already killed myself...\" \n\n\nMy heart is pounding. I cane hear the blood pumping in my wars. The letter says something about depression and despair. Yada yada.... the futility of it all.... yada... *my name*.\n\n\nShit. Fuck!\n\n\nThere's a tiny creak of wood behind me. \n\n\nI react instinctively. I duck, and a huge hand misses my neck by inches. \n\n\nI roll over to the side. \n\n\nI hear a loud grunt, and feel the air move as the hand tries to grab me again. \n\n\nI roll over again, feeling the stitches tear up, pulling away my skin. I get to my feet and run.\n\n\nI run as fast as I can. I don't look back. I don't need to.\n\n\nI run out the door and just keep running down the corridor and six flights of stairs. I run straight into the rain, and see the cabbie from before near the corner. \n \n\nI wave my hands to signal him. He opens the cab door and starts the engine. I jump in and slam the door. \n\n\n\"The airport. Step on the gas. Extra twenty for making it in under fifteen.\"\n\n\n*\n\n\nHalf an hour later, still soaking wet with rainwater and blood, I am ten thousand feet in the air. \n\n\nAt this point, I feel like I am going to pass out. I am tired to the bone. Tired physically, mentally. And emotionally. My life for the past three years is over.\n\n\nBut I'm still alive. And that's what matters. \n\n\nOnwards, I tell myself. To a new city and new life. Perhaps this time I'll be lucky.\n\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\n*^(Those raindrops)*\n\n\n*^(Are falling on my head)*\n\n\n*^(They keep fallin')*\n\n\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\n\n*^(But there's one thing I know)*\n\n\n*^(The blues they send to meet me)*\n\n\n*^(Won't defeat me, it won't be long)*\n\n\n*^(Till happiness)*\n\n\n*^(Steps up to greet me)*\n\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\nYeah... well, now if only I could believe in those words.",
"It was days like this that made me want to never get out of bed.\n\nA flat tire in the middle of the interstate, a crushed bumper, and a bruised body. The last time I felt this sore, I had decided that I really needed to exercise more so I did twenty-three minute-long planks in a row until I collapsed on the floor and decided that body toning really wasn't for me. \n\nWhen I got to my shitty apartment in downtown Boston, I could feel my eyelids drooping. The train whistling in the distance didn't even faze me as I fumbled with my key. I mumbled a curse as my key went the wrong direction in the lock, and quickly snapping it in the opposite direction I slammed into the door with my hip. The door flung open, banging into the wall with a *thump* as I stumbled my way into the clean apartment, and--\n\nStop.\n\nClean?\n\nI was more awake than ever as my eyes sailed across the clean, near-empty white room. No posters on the wall, no dishes in the sink, no clutter or laundry littering the floor, and six large plastic bins in the middle of the room, stacked in groups of two. I took three steps back out the doorway, checking the apartment number to assure that I had walked into the correct room because *this was not my flat, I wasn't this organized* but it was. Number 37A. My eyebrows furrowed.\n\nMy purse was hastily throw to the side, and I slammed my door shut. I began searching frantically for some semblance of an explanation, something out of place. My heart was thumping to a face-paced beat that rivaled my thoughts. My breath, having no desire to lose the race against my heart and thoughts, sped up as well.\n\nI stumbled across the room, noting that the room seemed so much bigger than it did when everything was in place. When I lived here, the flat had little to no space for even *moving* because all my junk was cramped in like an episode of Hoarders, except maybe not that bad.\n\nStopping in my tracks, I spun on my heel and made a beeline for my bedroom. Maybe one of my friends was playing a trick on me and they were hiding in my room, waiting impatiently and giggling to themselves about how I totally fell for it, they *sooo* got me! Of course this was just all a big misunderstand--\n\n*Click*. \n\nWhat?\n\n*Click, click, click.*\n\nI shook the doorknob faster and with more fervor than ever before. This wasn't right, this wasn't right, my door didn't even *have* a lock!\n\nBut there was no mistaking it.\n\nI stumbled back, grabbing the plastic boxes and throwing them onto the floor. I hastily opened the closest one, and my heart stopped at what had been contained.\n\nLetters.\n\nThousands upon thousands of letters, all starting the same, all ending the same, all with vaguely the same content, all with different dates.\n\nWith shaking hands and dry sobs wracking my body, I threw open another container, then another, and another, until I'd opened every single one. Every one contained the exact same thing.\n\nSuicide letters.\n\nWhen I turned eleven, my parents took me to the doctor for some unexplained symptoms. Always tired, always sad, never motivated, never showing preference for anything. The doctor diagnosed me with depression, and recommended me to a therapist. From there, the therapist delved into what could have caused everything, asking me what I found entertaining before all the disinterest started. I replied writing, like any aspiring eleven-year-old would, and she prescribed me to write in a journal every single day until I didn't feel as bad. And then, once my emotions had changed, continue writing. \n\nAnd so I did. I wrote about everything, from the weather to how I was feeling to how much I just didn't want to live. Gradually, the writing changed to only one topic: how much I didn't want to live. And from there, the writings turned into letters. \n\nLetters addressed to so many different people.\n\nI wrote letters to my mom, explaining how sorry I was for not being a better daughter. Letters to my dad, saying how it wasn't his fault. Letters to my brother saying that it doesn't matter that he was supposed to protect me, it really wasn't his fault. A letter to my sister explaining how much I loved her, and that I would be gone for a while. Another letter to my mother explaining to never tell my sister what happened. Preserve her innocence.\n\nI weaved letters to the world crying out about injustice-- how no one should have to live in such a broken world where eating disorders are romanticized, depression seen as a joke, and schizophrenics seen as lunatics. My letters slammed on the materialistic interests of the world, and how they bashed on mental disorders because everyone knows that they're \"all in your head.\"\n\nIt took me thirteen years to stop writing these letters. Thirteen years of hating the world and not wanting to be a part of it. I began replacing the letters with artwork of beautiful, lovely places. I made beauty in place of destruction, setting fire to the pits of my life. I regained my passion. I found my life.\n\nBut now, surrounded by crumpled papers of my previous mind, I questioned my dedication to this world. I could feel my mind morphing to the surroundings around me. \n\nThe color from my life dropped like the sky crashing down, and all of a sudden I resembled my blank apartment. The fire had died. The black ashes surrounded me, and I, tempted by the black and white safe haven that I knew so very well, let myself fall.\n\nI stood, not bothering to kick away the papers littering my apartment floor. I strode over to my bedrooom, turning the knob easily and closing it with a light '*click*'. I locked it behind me.\n\nMy bed hadn't been made in four weeks, and my comforter was strewn upon the floor in a disheveled mess. I opened the bottom drawer of my bedside table, grabbing a two bottles from hidden compartment in the back. One sloshed and one rattled.\n\nUncorking both, I placed three pills at a time in my mouth, washing them down with the burning fire that I once hoped would ignite my desires. Three and swish. Three and swish. Repeat until both were gone.\n\nDropping the bottles the shattered on the floor, I stumbled my way to my desk. I plopped myself down in the rolling chair, spinning twice for good measure. My shaky fingers fumbled with the drawer, yanking out a torn piece of paper and a black sharpie.\n\nI firmly pressed the bleeding black into the white.\n\n\"By the time you read this, I will have already killed myself.\"",
"\"By the time you read this, I will have already killed myself. I have lost the will to live and this terrible day was the last straw. The threads of my existence have been unraveling slowly and I know realize the futility of life. No matter what others tell me about the beauty of the universe, I know that it is inherently apathetic towards my existence. Consider this a test of quantum immortality if you will. No matter what the result, I will cease to exist here in your universe, and so I say goodbye.\n\n~James Myers\n\nThe note lay on my desk. I read through it twice, trying to make sense of it. Someone had written a suicide note for me, filled with all the angst of a teenager who had just discovered that they aren't the center of the universe. I looked around my apartment, suddenly realizing the possibility that whoever wrote this note was still in here. I grabbed the gun I kept in my apartment, preparing for a fight if I had to. \n\nAfter thoroughly scouring my apartment, I sat down on my bed, thinking about who would do this. I held the note in my hands, trying to decipher the handwriting of the person who was trying to get me killed. While I inspected the note, I couldn't help but think about how well it had captured the thoughts I had been having recently.\n\nThe past few months had been tough, and I had stopped taking my medication recently. I was spiraling back into my crippling depression, but I guess I was just too afraid to admit it. I didn't expect to introspect for so long that day, but I laid down in my bed, thinking about things for hours on end. I lay there, staring at the ceiling. I had completely forgotten about the note at this point, thinking instead about what it had said.\n\nI was honestly getting tired of living. Life had its great moments, but it was too exhausting to continue on. My therapists had always told me to think about those good moments, and make an effort to make them happen, but my mind just wasn't up for it. The apathy of the universe had stopped bothering me long ago, but every now and then it would creep back into my mind, reminding me that in the end, whether I live to be 20 or 200, it would make no difference.\n\nI gripped the gun in my hand tightly. I knew that I should call a hotline or 911, but I didn't really think I had it in me. I put the gun to my head. The cold barrel of the revolver felt calming, in a demented way. I closed my eyes, not thinking about suicide or anything else. For the first time, my mind was totally clear. The serenity I felt at that moment was cut short by the deafening bang of a bullet obliterating my temple. \n\nSurprisingly, the last thought that ran through my mind wasn't regret, it was a soothing one. I felt like someone who had worked a long day and finally laid down to go to sleep, and I was looking forward to it."
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[WP] Write something that uses the following sentence: "In a fit of sanity, _____"
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[
"Grundr ran through the brush, blades of grass towering over him. This fool had no idea what he was getting himself into, he was trapped and didn’t even know it yet. They had pulled this bait and switch twice this sliver moon. Grundr dropped and huddled. Two boot thuds on the mother and he felt the boot in his back, Grundr was callused deeply so he barely felt it but the fool tripped right over him, all two feet of him, one when he was huddled like this. The idiot probably hadn’t encounterd a gropstil before, short and grey extremely rock like. The fool went face first into the pit. \n\n“Quakes!” said Caggkrill, “We killed another one! I told you this grugging pit was too short. They keep breaking their necks in the fall...humans are grugging weak.” \n\n**In a fit of sanity** Grundr yelled, “Quit rumbling Cagg, at least the welves will take him.” Not far from their settlement, even with Gundr’s strength, his size worked against him when it came to pulling corpses from the mother. \n\nCagg opened his grugging mouth again, it was starting to erode on him. “We could give the fool to the mother, the worms will take him in a turn.” Grundr shook his stubby head, nope. They had plenty of time and someone would find this fool before the mother took him to her worms. Besides, he needed something from the welves.\n\n“Help me drag this fool out.”",
"I stared at the voting screen. There was a feeling in my heart that was telling me, \"No. Don't vote for yourself, Falco.\" But I missed Fox. He was my greatest frenemy,through all of the competition. \n\nEver since he placed 12th, I still missed him.\n\n\"Don't worry Falco.\" I mused. \"You'll probably still get 50,000 or something.\" Was a billion dollars really worth all the despair of missing your greatest partner?\n\nThe whole thought process was making me insane.\n\n\"Don't worry, all the best characters get 5th...\"\n\nPlus, what would happen if my alliance got to the final 3? We'd have to backstab someone at that point.\n\n**In a fit of sanity,** I tapped the option that had my name.\n\nI had been voted out.\n\nThere were chains, and a feeling of going down. I was back in my Arwing, and it felt nice.\n\nThen it started up without any action, and then it felt wrong.\n\nNo matter how loud or hard I screamed, it kept on spinning and spinning and spinning...\n\nUntil it crashed into pieces.\n\nI was flying. Towards the wall. There was a deafening snap as my head suddenly jerked to the side, planting itself agains the glass shield.\n\nAs my body reverted into its trophy form, I whispered. \"Soon... I'll be with you...\"",
"The hymns of the faithful echoed through the temple's halls to proclaim their loyalty to the Creator of mankind. Great bronze bells were rung to announce the arrival of Hierarch Severius, the holy leader of the Protectorate of Menoth. Ranks of Temple Flameguard waited at the steps of the temple, their long white tabards pristine and bronze helms gleaming in the scorching noonday sun. A cluster of ranking priests, their faces masked in honor of the Lawgiver's visage stood in manufactured calmness. While not as notorious as his predecessor, Hierarch Severius was not a man to be ruler to be trifled with. He was Menoth's intermediary on Caen and thus ruled in His stead. \n\nThe first elements of the Hierarch's cavalcade was a twin detachment of ten Exemplar Vengers, the mounted element of the Knights Exemplar. The armored riders carried their blessed lances at rest, the gleaming points catching the sun's glare. Their steeds were from a variety of sources, some being proud and noble Idrian stallions whilst a few were massive looking Pozdyov warhorses, proof of the Northern Crusade's successes at rallying the Menites of Llael and Khador under the Protectorate's banner. \n\nA phalanx of Exemplar Errants was next, swords sheathed and shields slung on their armored backs. Held across their chests were heavy crossbows save for the blessed banner that flew ahead of them. \n\nThe Hierarch was behind the Knights Exemplar, his carriage a work of divine art in and of itself. The sides were gilded with images from the Canon of the True Law, the Menofix displayed prominently on its surface. Servants rode behind the main cabin, leaping down to ready the door as the couchman brought his team to a halt. All present bowed low to the earth as the door was opened and the Hierarch exited into the bright light. \n\nHe wore the bronze mask of the Sul-Menite priesthood, his ornate robes of office woven with cloth of gold and jewels. His inner well of holiness was tangible to the swarm of faithful, his spiritual energy belying his eighty-three years. The Hierarch climbed the steps of the temple like a man half his age, his staff of authority proclaiming his right of leader of the Protectorate. Severius came to a halt just outside of blade's reach of the temple's leaders, bidding them rise. \n\n\"Your Holiness, it is an honor to greet you this day,\" one of their number said.\n\nSeverius nodded amiably.\n\n\"I apologize for the short notice but events had bid me elsewhere. The Great Crusade advances at a frantic pace and I am needed in many places. I recently had to attend to a misguided soul, a servant of the heathen foes and a Morrowan. He was most difficult, but in a fit of sanity submitted to the Creator before he died.\"\n\n\"Praise be to Menoth.\" The assembled murmered, making the sign of the Menofix on themselves. \n\n\"Praise be indeed. Now tell me, is he ready?\"\n\n--\n\nHe was a youth in his early twenties, his dark brown hair cut brutally short. He wore trousers of strong cotton tucked into boots and an off-white tunic belted by a red silk sash. He might have been considered handsome even in light of the mass of puckered scars that covered the left side of his face, the remnants of some hideous accident long past. In his hand was held a double-bladed glaive, the haft wrapped in braided leather inscribed with words of the True Law. \n\nSeverius said nothing for several long minutes, instead taking in every detail of the young man before him. \n\n\"What is your name?\"\n\n\" Mallory Corvin,\" the youth said.\n\n\"Who do you obey?\"\n\n\"The Hierarch of the Protectorate and through him the Synod.\"\n\n\"And your purpose?\"\n\n\"To destroy the foes of the Creator on Caen by any means.\" \n\nSeverius nodded satisfied.\n\n\"Are you prepared for this sacred task demanded of you?\"\n\nMallory Corvin's gaze was level with his ruler's, his dark gray eyes burning like the righteous fury of Menoth.\n\n\"I am but a weapon of the Creator, forged through years of training and hardship. I know of no family or loved ones. I know only the blade and the True Law of Menoth. And with them, I shall do His wonders. ",
"Shit. Shit, shit, shit. \n\nI don't know what's going on, but nothing feels right. Everyone at work is...staring at me. I pace around to the bathroom. I walk back to my cubicle. I tap my feet on the floor...waiting. I try to act normal. I only get more weird looks. My chest hurts. My arm hurts. I'm dizzy. \n\nDeep breaths. Only...I can't breathe. Shit.\n\nIn a fit of sanity, I say: \"I think I'm having a heart attack! Call 911!\"",
"I still remember when my life wasn't like this. Both my parents died when I was young, but it made my marriage that much more sweet. But then my wife and child contracted a terminal illness that my meager paycheck could only hope to pay off. It was inevitable that they would die.\n\nI am not sure how long I have been a lost soul left alone to rot in this accursed world. After all, it is only in stories and fairy tales that hard work pays off.\n\nThen a former classmate, now a chemist, came to me with a pill in his hand. He was testing a drug that would delude the mind with visions of grandeur. This drug could help suspects guilty of a crime reverse their sentence by reason of insanity. He was also in the process of creating a sister drug to cause clarity of mind and cure the insanity induced. He had come to seek my help, as I had done studying in the area of psychology and he knew that I needed the money and that I would not report him.\n\nAlone, I rot in the room as I wait for him to collect a shipment of materials for this next endeavor. But the pill sits in front of me. In a impulsive move, I snatch the vial and make for the door.\n\nI dash down to an alleyway where I used to purchase my medicine. The pill is a sickly green color, disgusting like the people it would be used to help.\n\nIt is the key to freedom, to liberation, and to salvation; it opens a door to a new era of infinite peace, and provides a rest for the weary.\n\nThen, **in a fit of sanity**, I popped it in my mouth and swallowed."
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