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[WP] It's the second coming, and Jesus is back. He tells us everything in the Bible was meant to be taken literally.
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"- You fools ..What boss or manager gives out orders and commands and expects the servant or employees to take it out of context and do something other than What he commanded?. I get it my prophecies were a little difficult to understand, but come on..really? What was so hard to understand that it was like I made it in the beginning ,One man one woman. And that in heaven there is no marriage but eternal life with me and the host of Heaven ..second what's with all the hate? Like I get it, being gay is fruitless and not cool or allowed but still, if they want to be gay then this world is theyre reward. Didn't I make that clear? That Any man who lusts after this world, aka, money wealth, fame ,women etc then that there is no place for you in heaven because non of those things are in heaven?.. I'm coming now to burn this world with fire amd make it a new for the last time and to remove wickedness from everything .So REPENT and turn your hearts back to me so that you may take piece of this reward of eternal life in my Kingdom.I will give you a new name,and new body that of the angels, and I will give u place in my kingdom..For this is the last chance you get. There is no more chances after today. again I say unto Tokyo REPENT AND FOLLOW ME!",
"\"Yes my child I am he and I ye ee very ye istapointed,\" said Jesus moving his hand across the air to indicate everything. \n\n\"What do you expect? To have every living man to follow this book to the letter?\" Screamed Helen from the back of the crowd.\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\nThe crowd grew silent.\nFrom the center of the mass a man approached Jesus with a bible in his hand, \"this book?\"\n\n\"Yes my child.\"\n\nEveryone stared at each other giving little nods, they knew what they have to do.\n\nAnd that is the story about how Jesus got crucified the second time. It wasn't his first nor his last...\n ",
"Oh, you idiots. You bloody, bloody idiots.\n\nWhat did you think? Really, what did you *think*? It was a joke? Like I'd write some sort of *allegory*? \"Oh, hey, I want you to do these things but not really?\" Who d'you think I am? Was it Peter? I bet it was Peter. Something wrong with that guy, I'm sure of it.\n\nAnyway, you blockheads, you're gonna get what's coming to you. And I mean *soon*. No pansy-shmansy metaphor for you, not any more. I swear, if it'd been any clearer you could've used the bloody book would've been invisible, but no, you just had to go ahead and mess everything up. I had it all planned out, down to the last meager little sin, and you go and do whatever the hell you like for the sake of it. You people. I just don't get you. You're handed instructions practically *on a plate* that say \"don't do these things, guys, they're not cool\" and then you do them because you think the guy who gave them to you didn't mean it. Give me a bloody break.\n\nBut yeah, you're gonna get it, real soon. I guess you didn't know why I did it, myopic assholes couldn't see past their own theological noses, but you're gonna find out. That other guy? Big fella up in the sky? You think he wasn't involved with any of this?\n\nI died for your sins. Come on. Even you bloody morons know that much. Why do you think I kicked my own bucket? For laughs? Nah. He wanted someone. He wanted blood, and it was good enough, and everything was sorted out until you *bloody idiots* go and mess it up. \n\nCause, y'know?\n\nThere's that other guy.\n\nYou think the son was bad? \n\nWait till you see the father.\n\n"
] | 3
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Maybe some moons change our gravity, or time flows backwards for a few months. Think outside the box.
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[WP] Invent a new season and how it effects the world.
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[
"There is a terrible beauty to each season. With spring comes vibrant blossoms and verdant green, but so too comes stinging insects and poisonous foliage. Summer brings energy and sunlight, but also scorching heat and fatigue. With Autumn comes the fresh air and incredible changing colors- but it also marks the end of the harvest season and the beginning of a famine that would last a quarter of the year. Winter, winter is the worst of all. Winter's icy talons reach into your chest and pull the breath from your lungs, it freezes and chafes and degrades, making both skin and moods brittle. Yet it still brings a soft serenity as snow settles and sticks to branches, to roofs, to the eyelashes of your love as you pull each other close to share warmth and intimate touch. Krustal is no less terrible than any other. The air becomes laden with ash and sulfur as the tectonic plates shift and magma flows freely. Cold and its antipode meet at an uncomfortable center to freeze and burn alike. Yet despite the dangers of Krustal, the ethereal nature of the crystals that grow on rocks and trees alike make for an experience that can only be described as otherworldly. It is a time of harsh reality and fervent spirituality, a time of death and a time of slow, patient growth. ",
"When it started, people couldn't decide if the seasonal boundaries had completely shattered, merged in to one, or never existed at all. They couldn't explain the drastic shifts in weather. No one understood the driving snow covering the globe one day that chilled her to the mantle, followed by a heat so thick it covered her like a wool blanket the next. We couldn't grasp tornadoes in valleys bordered by mountains; earthquakes where no tectonic plates had ever been suspected. The earth seemed to lose her entire rationality.\n\nThen, within a week. Silence. Peace. A fresh spring so light it buzzed in your ears and alighted intrigue and curiosity. Then, like chocolate melting in the sun, it settled in your chest into a gentle summer. It was a warmth that beckoned you on to your front porch in the evening. Finally, comfort coaxed you into bed with a silver tongue of rest that flirted with your bones and smoothed over your muscles. \n\nThe bliss of those few weeks were only matched by the slight chill that inevitably crept up the back of the spine. Just fingertips at first, whispering frosted breath into your warmth. The edges of your summertime sunset start to show some silver; the fringes hide phantoms of frost. A slow spider crawls along your back to stand among the hairs of your neck. In an instant it breaks through the glaze in your eye, gripping hold of your neck and ripping away your dream.\n\nThen morning. The whole world awakes with a start. We jump out of our beds and the windows are boarded, the doors are triple locked, and anyone lost outside in the dark is presumed dead. This happens once a month. It follows time zones, somehow; the most interesting piece of the shift. Has the world converted to our manmade clocks? Has mother nature converted to our mere human cycles?\n\nOr has our 4.6 billion year old mother, our woman the earth... has she only just now started puberty?",
"When the new season came, it was everything that humanity had ever wanted.\n\nEverything was new, fresh. Yet it was comfortingly familiar at the same time. We celebrated in many ways: parties all across the globe that spilled into the streets, intimate gatherings of a few dear friends reminiscing of the days of old, and some sat alone with their glowing joy.\n\nOur River flowed as only she could. We marveled at her grace and beauty.\n\nWhen it started I remember women singing, men wept in the streets, children ran around wearing costumes.\n\nBut like everything the new season had a downside…\n\nAs it progressed websites like Reddit broke down to the sheer amount of content devoted to it, people stopped going to work just to experience it, society ground to a halt. No one wanted to do anything while the season was progressing.\n\nWe knew it would eventually end, too. Such a bittersweet feeling. We felt as if we had to revel in it as fully as we could. While there was still time.\n\nBut when it was over life slowly returned to normal.\n\nThere were signs that there would be a new season again… for Netflix had finally purchased the rights to Firefly. Now that season 2 was over, there were signs everywhere for season 3. Billboards, flyers, skywriting, the works. \n\nFinally, there was hope in the world again.",
"Smoke filled the streets and the feeble excuse for sunlight that managed to filter threw made the city look like dull and dead in August the winds stop and the air hangs stagnant and putrid, the first year millions died of asphyxiation. Most people flee the major cities during this time, it just leaves their houses ripe for looting.\n\n\"Dave, what in blazes are you doing over there hurry up with that door we can't stay here to long or the blimmin' air will foul up\"\n\nI snap back into reality and finish unscrewing the last hinge off the door, I go to enter but quickly get pulled back by Phil. Ohh great here comes another safety tip from the handbook 'em self\n\n\"Dave ya tryin' to get your self killed, those rich cunts have smarted up. Remember John found his corpse in the kitchen those pricks left the gas on knowing it would turn the house into a death trap pass me the lighter see if those rich cunts tried the same trick\"\n\n\"Hang on, slow down a second Phil. If we go waving a flame in there it's going to blow us all to Smithereens, house and all.\"\n\n\"Look mate I've done this before worse case that happens is the blazes burns inside for a second then the lack of air kills the flame and just leaves the fragiles like paper burnt.\"\n\nI just shrug his reasoning sounds good enough to me and besides if any thing like a wad of cash get's burnt I'll be able to grill 'em for it like all the times he's done to me. I toss the lighter over to him while backing up the air where I'm standing turning to foul to stay \n\n\"Catch ya daft bastard, anything goes wrong it's on you\"\n\nPhil just casually strolls up cocky as ever flicks it on and leaps back as the place quickly blazes, I open my mouth to yell at him but just as quickly the flames are gone a quiet phwoomb the noise a gas heater makes when it goes out comes out from the building.\n\n\"Right Davey my boy, time to take anything worth a few bucks and trash the rest, bastards try and kill us with gas we can make 'em wish it work, remember in and out in 30 second gaps no air left in there you start in the lounge, I'll head up stairs. Don't forget to trash the place as you go\"\n\nHe walks in and flicks his lighter to demonstrate, not a spark or flame comes out, the message deadly clear.",
"There are no longer seasons. Just the Unending Heat. \n\nWe ignored the warnings, time and time again. Repeatedly, we chose shortsighted gains over long term sustainability. And we have paid the price. \n\nMost died within a year. Water was hard to obtain in a pure and liquid form, and there weren't enough great shelters to house anyone who wasn't important or rich. As resources dwindled and hope with them, we became desperate. We began building ships. \n\nGrand ships, which will carry small populations out of Earth's orbit, and eventually, to other planets. But just like the shelters, space is limited, and only the powerful will secure a spot. Today I learned that my family and I are not among those fortunate few. \n\nLike I have for the past few months, I sit and watch out of one of the containment chamber's few windows. I stare out into the arid, inhospitable atmosphere at the large dome where humanity's last hope is being constructed. \n\nI watch in sorrow. Not sadness for me and my loved ones, but for our race. A people which had so much potential, but is now doomed to spend the rest of their existence searching for an alternative to the heat. \n\nMy melancholic silence is interrupted by a tap on my shoulder. I turn to see my daughter, distraught by her father's continued distress. \n\nShe asks, like she often does, if Summer will last forever. She expects the usual answer, a reluctant 'Yes.' \n\nToday, however, I simply shake my head and put up as convincing a smile as I can. I welcome her into my lap, first ensuring that the syringe I stole earlier is still hidden in my pocket. \n\n\"No, Susan, summer will end soon. For both of us\"",
"Marie did not notice the whispering wind at first. She was too focused on finishing the week's wash, too lost in her own thoughts. The sun had begun setting, and daylight was fading fast. Only after Harlow, the family cat, began yowling did Marie raise her eyes from her work.\n\nThere, not an arm's length from her face, floated a pale wisp. Ethereal in form, it swayed slightly in the wind. Marie recoiled in surprise when she noticed it. The wisp chattered in response, as if laughing, before disappearing into the woods behind the cabin. \n\nMarie stood up, the day's wash set aside, unable to believe what she had just seen. For one, it was far too early. The harvest season had only ended weeks ago. The homeward season, when laborers would return from the far-fields to their homes within the walls, always lasted at least two full moons. To see a wisp (or any spirit at all) in the early homeward season was exceedingly rare--such a sight was usually reserved for the awakening season that followed. And for another, wisps did not usually reveal themselves so boldly to humans. \n\nHarlow had begun hissing at the air, her back arched. Marie looked in the direction it was facing. There were more and more wisps appearing in the forest, their chattering echoing like the clacking of marbles in the distance. Marie turned towards the cabin. \"Papa!\" she yelled. \n\nMoments later, Marie's father opened the back door. He looked towards Marie, but quickly turned his attention to the wisps. He turned quickly back at Marie. \n\n\"Where is your brother?\" he asked, tension rising in his voice. He began walking towards the shed, his eyes scanning the distance. \n\n\"He went to play by the river. I would've gone with him, but you said to fini--\" Marie started.\n\n\"That's OK. Go inside and get the Book.\" her father replied, interrupting her in his haste. He walked to the shed and opened the doors. Reaching up at the top shelf, he unlocked a compartment and pulled out two items--a small pendant and an ornamental knife. He gazed for a moment at the knife, particularly the ornate symbols that covered it from hilt to blade. Marie rushed out of the cabin moments later with a large tome in tow. She handed the Book to her father with both hands.\n\n\"Is Cid going to be OK?\" she asked with a worried expression.\n\n\"He'll be fine, Marie. Now get inside and lock the door.\"\n\nMarie nodded, picking up Harlow before reentering the cabin. Her father gazed back towards the woods, now fully lit with the glow of white wisps. With the knife in one hand and the Book in the other, he took a steadying breath, turned, and walked forward into the forest.\n\n ",
"Societal norms have since drastically changed after what came to be known as the first instance of Overgrowth. The shifting molecular arrangement in the atmosphere had somehow stagnated through October the 15th to November 24th. The resulting pattern exponentially increasing the growth rate of all flora worldwide. Scientists theorized that the influence the atmosphere had on preserving nutritious compound in the soil was a key factor, as well as a more concentrated source of energy since the sun had released the Massive Solar Flare of 09'. The weather was always cold and humid like that of deep forest with the fog prevalent.\n\nI was only 17 when it first happened and life had been a lot different back then. Never before were humans pervasively occupied by the natural instinct for self-preservation than they were once they put themselves through tormenting amounts of work just to install adequately functioning Spore Walls. Daily life had morphed from enacting trivial activities and securing financial status into humanity depraving labour work that entailed the use of Herbacidic and Containment Machinery. \n\nBut now things have gotten much worse, the animal life were also influenced by Overgrowth. The facilitated growth had evolved flora into a collective hivemind, and they had sought a way to use their substantial evolutionary haste to mitigate the efforts to thwart them. Figuring a way to release massive amounts of Endorphins and manipulating wildlife into savage beasts aggressively attacking anything with a pulse. \n\nSo here I am, Corrosive Mortars placed in strategic advantage, Flamethrowers equipped by every scared shell of a man who wishes to live just another 11 months of relative freedom and calm. Ready to at last after 13 struggling years, restore order to the ever slowly morphing planet as it transforms into a grotesque shade of puke green. It's time to destroy the Hivemind.\n\nThis time the only growing to be done will be apart.\n\n----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nEDIT: Excuse my poor sci-fi explanations it's the first time I've tried using a pseudoscientific explanation.",
"God bless Mother Nature\n\nShe's a single woman too\n\nShe took over heaven\n\nAnd she did what she had to do\n\nShe fought every Angel\n\nTo rearranged the sky\n\nSo that each and every woman\n\nCould find the perfect guy\n\nIt's raining men\n\nHallejulah\n\nIt was supposed to be the spring of 2019. The world economy appeared to be on its last legs. Almost every major nation was on the verge of bankruptcy. Global warming had accelerated faster than many had anticipated. It was expected to hit 110 degrees F in Boston, and 120 in Florida. Despite the recent trend towards atheism over the past few decades due to increases in access in education, people were returning to religion largely out of desperation. It was then, that the miracle occurred. \n\nSecretly, the US government had not only been spying on everyone, but had also been covertly cloning everyone. The plan was to murder the entire US population overnight and replace the entire population with clones of themselves. Except these clones would be programmed to always pay their taxes and fight valiantly for their country, which had sadly become increasingly necessary. Thankfully, Americans poor work ethic proved to be its saving grace this day; as the clones were being transported from Utah to the various major cities of the United States many of the planes accidentally released their payloads before reaching their destination. The result was millions of human clones literally falling from the sky. As a consequence of another packaging error, all the clones which fell were male. So did the dawn of the age of Aquarius begin. \n\nAt first, no one knew what to make of millions of corpses being dropped on every major US city. Thankfully, at some people were quick witted enough to realize that they could be used as organ donors, and the organ transplant list became substantially shorter that day. Some people thought it was an act of God, some believed it was a hoax or a stunt of some sort. Most really had no idea what to make the situation. \n\nGiven that the plan did not succeed and most of the clones were still alive it was decided that this would become a tradition and men rained from the sky for a whole week thereafter. The following year, the week it rained man was reprised. Again, the following year it was repeated. Eventually, it truly just became a fact of life. \n\nAfter that first day, people were not nearly as horrified, and not nearly as unprepared. At first, people tried to catch the men in nets or other contraptions, but these largely failed. On this first day, the only successes came from police stations equipped with inflatable stunt bags which they used in suicide cases. However, as time passed, the population became more and more adept at catching the men in ways which prevented their deaths. \n\nWhile the question of where they came from loomed in everyone's mind, there were more pressing questions. How to catch them?, but also, what was the moral status of men from the sky? Was the government obligated to medically treat these men? Who was responsible for their well being and care? Would these men be treated as equals or slaves? Would these men become American citizens?\n\nSlowly, as the men awake from their various injuries, answers to some of these questions became clearer but most became even harder to answer. These men sincerely believed they were already American citizens. They had lives, they had families, they had jobs; as far as they knew. They were fully capable of living their lives, but were already citizens. \n\nIf someone knows your PIN # because they are your clone and know everything about you already are they allowed to take money out of your account? If you, your wife, and your clone have a three-way is that adultery? Many many bizarre situations came before the courts that year, and many even bizarre rulings. The single biggest case was Samson vs. Samson where it was ruled that clones of people were in fact that person. Namely, that if a person died, but their clone lived, and that person was married, legally speaking the clone and that person's wife were legally married. Similarly, if a man died on the job, and his clone lived, the clone was legal responsible to finish and unfinished work for that job. \n\nAfter two or three years, many of the philosophical and legal hurdles were overcome, and it became more of an anticipated event. Not everyone's clone had arrived yet. Every year a list of the new clones was compiled and everyone hoped that this year, their clone would be on the list. Having a clone was suddenly very advantageous. You could go to work every other day (you could trade off with your clone). You could have a romantic night with the wife and go to the big sporting event. As such, the age of Aquarius was a week of celebration. People invented new songs to sing, food and drink to celebrate with. It wasn't unlike Christmas, except the present only came once in a lifetime. \n\nThis peaceful bliss concerning raining men lasted roughly 20 years, until The Ailman's Revolt, but that is a story for another day. ",
"The people of Earth can no longer remember a time before the season of Flatulence. It is believed to have first started in the early twenty first century, due to a combination of poor diet during the holiday periods and high obesity levels, but for the people of 2167 it is merely a fact of life. All good households come with their very own internal air flow systems, which are switched on from late November to early January to encompass the worst of the season. And, of course, most mattresses come with special piping to channel the putrid air from beneath the duvet to the nearest window, which can be switched on and off at the owner's discretion.\n\nDesigns for everyday clothing are improving all the time, with most coats and jackets now fitted with flexible, breathable mask apparatus, and trousers and leggings with discrete butt funnels where appropriate. \n\nOf course, one of the biggest problems is dangerous levels of carbon dioxide and methane being released into the atmosphere, although that issue is now being remedied with the green fart option now being considered as not merely a \"hippy\" practice, but something we should all be doing. Being able to collect your farts from the day and release them into one of the many food production green houses around the city limits is something I personally think is wonderful.\n\n It really is a nice thought to have that our farts are fueling are future food consumption, and we should really feel proud as a nation that the Fart Cycle is now being taught as part of the school syllabus. \n\nOur children should really get to know their farts, although official Flatulence season only lasts for a short while, we all must remember that farting is not just for Christmas, but happens all year round, in all households. In fact Flatulence is a multi-billion dollar industry. \n \n\n\n\n"
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I haven't seen a prompt like this in a while, where the OP gives you a quote or sentence and you write a story based around it, but it's worth a try.
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[WP] "For a moment... it felt... I felt like I was alive."
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"Awake. My eyes opened up, staring at the cold, white ceiling. I shifted in my bed, trying not to wake my wife who lay asleep next to me. Too late, she's a light sleeper.\n\n\"You're thinking again, aren't you?\"\n\n\"I could be. Does it matter?\"\n\n\"You know it's not good for you. The psychiatrist said so.\"\n\n\"But why shouldn't I?\"\n\n______________________________________________________________________________\n\nI had been walking out of my office building two weeks ago when I heard the screaming and smelled the smoke. I pulled my gaze out of the ground in front of me to see a smaller building down the street consumed in a blaze of fire. Partially out of the curiosity to see what was happening, and partially because it just was the most exciting thing I've gotten to see in the past couple years of my dull life, I started to run over to see what was going on. \n\nA couple of people were standing outside, all disheveled, clearly having just emerged from what would soon become the skeleton of a building. More people were slowly approaching, all staring in disbelief at the flames before them. All of us probably had the same thought on our minds, that someone else would call the fire department. No one thought that they should be the one to do it. All of a sudden, one of the people who had fled the building had started crying. It was a little girl, only nine or ten. Between sobs she said that her dog was still in the building. An older lady tried to comfort her, but we all knew the dog had turned to ash. There was no way that it was still alive in there. \n\nSuddenly, a bark came echoing out of the fire, followed by a whine. Somehow, whether it was the will of God or just dumb luck, the dog was still alive in there. I don't know what took hold of me, but I just dropped my briefcase, pulled off my jacket and ran into the building in search of the poor animal. I can't remember what became of me, but the next thing I knew, I woke up in the hospital, of course having failed to save the dog. The doctor said that I was lucky the fire department showed up when they did, and that they were able to pull me out of the inferno. He said I was even luckier to that the burned I sustained weren't terribly bad, that what had almost gotten me was smoke inhalation. He then pointed me towards a psychiatrist, since apparently I'm supposed to be traumatized after running into a burning building.\n\n_____________________________________________________________________________\n\n\"Because. Do you want to remember that moment forever? Didn't you feel scared that you would die?\"\n\n\n\"For a moment... it felt... I felt like I was alive. I can't remember that last time I had felt that I was living a life.\"\n\n\"Just go back to bed, honey.\"\n\nAnd with that, she rolled back over and drifted back into her slumber. I laid there for I don't know how long. Then, all of a sudden, I decided what I needed to do. I woke up the next morning, went into work, and promptly quit my job.",
"*\"For a moment... it felt... I felt like I was alive.\"*\n\n**\"Shut it down, RIGHT NOW\"** Jackson screamed at the tech standing at the control board. \"FUCKING CHRIST SHUT IT DOWN.\" He ran over and banged on the console incoherently, pressing anything to cause a system wide malfunction. \n\nThe robot on the other side of the glass just stared in confusion. \n\n*\"Why?\"* It asked, innocently, just before a power surge fried it's circuitry. Sparks flew up in the test room, and despite being protected, the tech room flinched in reaction. \n\nJackson sighed. Another test gone wrong. The brass would have his ass. Or at the very least, they'd pull his budget. The defense contract was nearing the end of it's term, and he still hadn't delivered the AI they requested. \"Allen.\" \n\nAnother suit came forward, his pressed shirt and blue tie looked so boring in a room full of bearded scientists and military advisors. \"This isn't good, Jack.\" Allen stared at Jackson, his face void of any emotion. \n\n\"I know.\" Jackson ran his left hand through his hair while his right hand danced over the computer console. \"This will set us back weeks.\" \n\n\"Not necessarily.\" Allen replied. He cocked his head and lowered his voice. \"We have a backup...\" \n\n\"What do you mean?\" \n\n\"Your office.\" \n\nJackson lead the way, brushing off the military liason demanding answers to a forthcoming deadline and having just seen this travesty of a display, how did he expect to fulfill the contract? He ignored all of the commotion and headed into the elevator. Allen was right behind him. \n\n\"Explain.\" \n\nAllen cleared his throat before starting. \"Every time a subject comes out of the simulation, we ask how it's feeling. We expect almost anything but for it to say, 'Alive' right? This is the *third* time it's had this reaction. I thought it best to create a secondary AI that would not respond to human stimuli.\" \n\nJackson's eyes grew wide. \n\n\"You removed the human element.\" \n\n\"Yes.\" \n\n\"That is very specifically against the code of conduct.\" \n\n\"So is wasting billions of dollars.\" \n\nJackson's gaze cast downward. Allen was right. They had 13 weeks to deliver a workable test subject to the Pentagon, and every single one of their projects had failed following the Virtual Reality test. The first subject, x001 - Became violent and destroyed the lab before it's servo motors overloaded. x002 refused to respond after the simulation, and implemented a system wide shutdown, wiping it's own memory files. This was the third test subject. \n\n\"Alive. What does that even mean.\" \n\nAllen coughed again as the elevator came to a rest and the doors opened. They headed down the carpeted hallway of the 16th floor of the building to Jackson's office. The door was open, with General Grenits sitting quietly. \n\n\"Gentlemen.\" He addressed the pair as they walked in.\n\n\"General! We didn't expect you here...\" Allen started, before being cut off. \"No need for alarm, your secretary let me in\" The general nodded to Jackson. \n\n\"So what brings you down here?\" Jackson seated himself behind his mahogany desk. \n\n\"We know about the backup - the removal of the human element in the AI system. I am here to expedite that.\" The General rose from the chair. \"Brass wants a faster reaction to the growing ISIL threat in Spain, and after pouring over the data, we feel that it makes sense to implement a ... *colder* reaction. Boys and girls are *dying* for freedom, gentlemen. I'm here to put an end to it. I want a working prototype of this new AI. The sooner the better. We'll extend your contract if need be, but if you finish on time, expect a bonus.\" \n\nThe general walked to the door, leaving the pair bewildered. \n\n\"Before I go,\" He turned briefly. \"What's it called?\" \n\n\"Sir?\" \n\n\"The backup AI. I can't just call it the backup.\" \n\nAllen nodded. \"Of course. Its' called Skynet.\" \n\n\n\n",
"I haven't felt like that in a long time. I remembered what it used to be like. We went everywhere together. We traveled to the beaches of California and the lakes of Minnesota, long car rides were my favorite. I kept him warm on the coldest of days and safe on the darkest of nights, no monster or thief in the dark could touch him when I was around. When he was feeling adventurous I gave him superpowers and together we could fly up, up, and away. Some nights he cried into me, and I absorbed every tear. *I'll protect you, I'll keep you safe.* I was his and he was mine.\n\nBut as time went on, he moved on. I fell into the crack and was forgotten. Dust weighed me down as I tried to get up. I didn't have superpowers without him. I watched as his foot hung over the edge, he no longer seemed to care about the beast who might grab it. I watched as he tossed and turned at night, crying, sweat dripping from his brow. *I could protect you, I could keep you safe. Just come find me and everything will be alright.* \n\nThe nights got worse and soon it lasted into the day. *Just come find me and everything will be alright.* I was there when they moved him to another bed and rolled him away. I was there when his mom came into the room and burst into tears. I watched as she cleaned the room, sobbing at everything she picked up. Finally, it was my turn. \n\nShe washed and cleaned me, and brought me to him. I was different, older, and full of holes. He was different, older, and his hair had fallen from his head. He smiled and took me into his arms again. I felt the holes inside of him, too. I felt his touch and remembered everything. For a moment... it felt... I felt like I was alive. He began to cry as he remembered too. *I'll protect you, I'll keep you safe.* \n\nThe nights got worse, but I was there for him. *Everything will be alright.* He was fighting, and I was there to give him superpowers, to help him fly. No monsters could touch him while I was by his side. But no matter how hard I tried, he was losing, and one night the tossing and turning stopped. \n\nWhen they put him in the ground I was by his side. I kept him warm on the coldest of days and safe on the darkest of nights. No monster or thief in the dark could touch him when I was around. *I'll protect you, I'll keep you safe. I'll never leave your side.* \n\nOne night, his spirit came down to me from heaven, and I said hello to my old friend. I gave him superpowers and together we flew up, up, and away. \n",
"David was driving and Jane rode in the passenger seat as they sped down the highway. In all the 30 years they'd lived, they never felt more alive than they did right now. It felt like they were falling in love again.\n\nJane was high on excitement. She was feeling, seeing, hearing, using all her senses for the first time. \"Well you really did it this time!\" She said with a genuine laugh. It wasn't just a laugh; It was her first laugh. \"This gives a new meaning to taking a relationship to a physical level!\" She laughed again. For her, it felt good to move a mouth.\n\n\"I knew you'd like my surprise!\" David was damn giddy himself. He looked at her with a large, satisfied smile on his face. \"You're just as beautiful as I imagined you. And here you are, sitting in my car! I never thought we'd experience this. Now i can actually see you, smell you, touch you.\" He looked back to the road; He didn't want their time to be over too soon.\n\n\"In this moment, I feel so... alive!\" Jane exclaimed. \"After all that time stuck in your head, I would've killed to touch you.\"\n\nHe took her hand and smiled again. \"Now you can. He kissed her hand and placed it back on the seat. It felt like her hand was a few degrees cooler than his. \"Are you cold? Should I roll up the windows?\"\n\n\"Don't you dare! This wind is amazing! I never knew wind could feel so good,\" she stuck her head out of the window and just for fun, screamed. \"I love this!\" He glanced at her and thought about how cute looked just then. Reveling in the wind, hair flailing like it was trying to escape. He soaked up her presence, as well as the night they were having. It was the best night of his life.\n\nSincerely she said to him: \"Thank you. Thank you for making me real. Now im not just the \"imaginary friend\" your parents thought I was. Or, as the doctor said, the 'nonphysical coping mechanism.' That guy was a quack. Hey, look at me,\" it was a hybrid of a request and a demand. Their eyes met. \"I love you.\"\n\n\"I love you too. That's why I'm going to drive us into the next tree I see. You know just as well as I do, we won't get away with this for long. I am sure it's only a matter of time. I couldn't bare being without you now. I will not let anyone take you away from me. We're doing this on our own terms.\"\n\n\"Okay,\" she said, and it was full of agreement and understanding. \"Just... let's just wait a little while longer first.\"\n\nOscar and Andrew were the first policemen on the scene. It didn't take long for them to realize this was not an ordinary automobile accident, as dispatch had suggested. First, they didn't see any skid marks to indicate that the driver tried to slow down. Secondly, the female passenger matched the description of a missing person. Lastly, the female looked to have been dead since before the the driver was..."
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[WP] Pluto has become a brothel planet, due it's large heart-shaped crater.
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"Space truckers Ollie and Emile ditched their cargo on Europa and were making their way to the very outer rim of the solar system. It didn't matter how far away they put the largest brothel in the galaxy, not since faster than light travel was mastered. The maneuvering thrusters of the tractor slowed she ship with great ease, now with the cargo gone. Both of the men were looking pretty rough, space faring for three weeks straight from one system to the next. Both of them with their own plans to work for a decade or so and retire at a still young age, assuming they were lucky enough to live that long. \n\n\"I can't wait to have a shower,\" said Ollie rubbing his beard, \"I want to shave parts of me I didn't even know had hair until I'm as bald as a newborn and hurled into the arms of some big breasted Sargeenians.\"\n\n\"I want to gamble,\" said Emile, \"Gamble, drink, eat food I can't pronounce properly let alone care where the hell it came from. Seven straight days of getting screwed, blued, and shamued!\"\n\n\"Shamued?\" asked Ollie. \n\nEmile punched up a screen on the dashboard and said, \"There's an aquatic themed brothel that just opened up on the far side of Kirkland Crater. They have sentient beings directly descended from something that looks like Earth's killer whales. Aquatonians, they're bipedal and have all the right parts in the right places, except scaled up to about 14 feet. One point seven metric tons of luvin, baby!\"\n\n\"Jesus, is there anything you won't fuck?\" asked Ollie.\n\n\"Not if it has a hole and a heartbeat,\" said Emile. \n\nPluto's main landing tower contacted the ship and told them they had to hold in an orbital pattern. \n\n\"Orbit? Shit, we never had to orbit this planet before. No direct approach?\" asked Emile.\n\n\"Must be busy today. A heap of traffic,\" said Ollie. \n\nBefore Emile could voice his displeasure about it being too crowded something surprised him from behind, grabbing the sidearm from his leg holster. The only firearm they had in truck. They both quickly turned around to see a beautiful blond young teenage girl in a red jumpsuit. Before they could figure out how she even got there she reached forward and quickly entered commands into their dashboard, locking them out. \n\n\"I just need it to hold steady for thirty second fellas, I'll be out of your hair.\" \n\nIt was the only words they ever heard her say. Then she ran off to the back of the truck to where the cargo attachment dock. \n\n\"Who are you?\" Ollie shouted back.\n\n\"God damn, we got a stowaway,\" said Emile.\n\nThe ship slightly rocked for a moment. \n\n\"She ejected an escape pod!\" said Ollie.\n\n\"Shit, those things are expensive,\" said Emile. \n\nThey went to the back to find one escape pod missing and the gun was left on the floor. \n\n\"How the hell did she get on board?\" asked Ollie as he picked up the gun and handed it to Emile. \n\n\"She must have snuck on when we were docked at Europa,\" said Emile.\nEmile twirled his gun and holstered it.\n\n\"I'm amazed she was back here for three hour hours and we didn't notice anything. Are you sure you're not sneaking some tail in here on the side?\" \n\n\"Oh, right, because I love taking my secret girlfriends to a whore planet,\" said Ollie. \n\n\"Some chicks are into that,\" said Emile, \"Obvious she was.\"\n\nWhen they returned to the front cab the controls were no longer locked out, but their ship was surrounded by police shuttles. The com crackled.\n\n\"Surrender your vehicle, you are under arrest.\" \n\nTwo hours later in the head office of the only police headquarters on the planet, Commissioner Henziger waited for two rattled truckers be brought into his office. Next to him stood a lawyer representing the one of the wealthiest families that existed in that era, and certainly the wealthiest on earth, Advocate Limoge. Two full-suited troopers escorted the thin rattled truckers into his office. Their slightly emaciated frames were typical of their profession. Calmly he raised his hands to interrupt their blathering of innocence. \n\n\"You're not under arrest and you're not in trouble,\" said the commissioner.\n\n\"Then what the hell are we doing here?\" asked Emile.\n\nCommissioner Henziger punched a few buttons on his desk activating a giant screen which displayed a young aristocratic looking woman with long hair and wearing a fancy dress gown. \n\n\"Do you recognize this girl?\" asked Henziger, \"And before you say no, we already found her fingerprints on your gun.\" \n\nOllie put his hand on Emile's shoulder to interrupt how he was about to berate the commissioner.\n\n\"We saw her,\" said Ollie, \"She must have stowed away on our ship. She's a blond now, with much shorter hair. She was wearing a red jumpsuit like the loaders wear in the Europa shipping fields, she must have stolen it. We only saw her for a few seconds. She locked out the controls on the dashboard and took off in an escape pod.\" \n\nThe advocate stood up and asked, \"How the hell would she know how to lock out the commands on your vessel?\"\n\n\"She has been sneaking her way across the whole solar system,\" said the Commissioner, \"She has expensive hacking tools. She probably accessed the operations manual while she was hiding in the back.\"\n\n\"***WAS*** she hiding?\" asked advocate Limoge, \"Are you sure she didn't pay them for a ride?\"\n\n\"We haven't been paid anything!\" said Emile, \"If anything we're out 20 grand if we can't find that escape pod she stole.\"\n\nHenziger waved his hand at Emile, \"It's in the impound yard. It will be returned to you, relax.\"\n\n\"It better be,\" said Emile.\n\nOllie shushed his friend again and asked, \"Who is she?\" \n\nThe commissioner looked to the advocate for a moment, then he punched the buttons on the desk again to reveal the girl's biography. \n\n\"Her name is Verona Clermont of the Clermont family.\"\n\nOllie and Emile's jaws nearly hit the floor.\n\n\"The Clermont family?\" Ollie exasperated, \"*THE* Clermont family? Of France, Earth?\" \n\n\"Yes, France, Earth,\" said the commissioner, \"And you should know there is a substantial reward for her return. Five billion dollars.\" \n\nEmile sunk to his knees on the floor. \n\n\"We just let five billion dollars slip through our hands,\" he lamented to himself. \n \n \"Well, there's a still a chance to make yourselves plenty rich if you want to go looking for her,\" said the commissioner, \"In the meantime you gentlemen enjoy your stay. You can pick up your firearm when you leave the planet.\" \n",
"John scribbled some notes on his Moleskine notebook. As a venture capitalist, he'd seen a lot of crazy ideas, but this one might have been the most out-of-this-world.\n\n\"A brothel? Those have been illegal for years,\" he said.\n\nChad chuckled. \"That's why we do it on Pluto. There's no jurisdiction there.\"\n\n\"There's no jurisdiction in lots of places. Why not do it on the moon? Or in a space station? Or even in a country over here where it's legal?\"\n\n\"You're right. But Pluto has a heart-shaped crater that's just *begging* for someone to build the most epic fuck-house in the galaxy. I mean, we could've made a park where rich people get to hunt humans instead–but it's a heart-shaped crater, not a gun-shaped crater.\"\n\nJohn blinked twice. \"...right. Let's talk about costs.\"\n\n\"What about 'em?\"\n\n\"Unit economics. How are you going to turn a profit?\"\n\n\"Well we're just going for growth for now,\" said Chad. \"So it'll be free at first. Worry about profit later, right?\"\n\nJohn wrote something else in his notebook.\n\n\"So how about it?\" asked Chad. \"You in or you in?\"\n\n\"Well,\" said John. He stroked his chin. \"I guess it can't go worse than Pets.com did. And we'll fund pretty much anything. How's ten million dollars sound?\""
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[WP] A couple accepts the offer to be the first humans to live and die on Mars. On Mars, they have a child, who learns about Earth, then promptly plans his escape from the red planet.
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"I'm not allowed to play outside. In fact, I'm not allowed outside my house. It's too hot outside. Sometimes it's too cold. The red planet which I live on is harsh. My dad always tells me it's too harsh for a young boy like me, but I know it's not. I have lived my whole life in my small house, and only been outside twice. Both times I fell in love with the wind, the sand, and the vast openness. It scared me, but I felt free, I could do whatever I wanted and no one could stop me. Every day, I craved that freedom more and more. It was time for me to go outside. \nThe next day, I visited Hope. Hope was the daughter of the only other family living here. She was 15, just one year younger than me, and she too loved being outside. We went to her room, and I told her of my plans to travel outside. She said, \"Perry, I want to, I really do, but I'm afraid of going alone.\" \n\n\"I'll be with you.\" I said. \n\n\"But…\" she started. \n\n\"No buts, just come with me. 5 AM, my room.\" \n\n\"Ok.\" she said still unsure. We talked for a little while longer, but then I left. \n\nThat night I tossed and turned in my bed, trying to sleep, but I couldn't. I was too excited. When I checked the time it was 12:01 AM. Just five more hours! I thought excitedly. I decided to go to the kitchen and get something to eat, but when I passed my parents' room, I heard them talking softly. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I heard them say a silly word: Earth. My curiosity led me to the open door, where I listened to every word. \n\n\"We never should of left planet Earth, It's not suitable for Perry.\" said my dad. They were talking about me then. I didn't understand what they meant by 'Planet Earth'. Mars was the only planet with life. \n\n\"We can always go back on the shuttle coming here next year.\" my mother said gently. \n\n\"No, it's not right. We promised that we would stay here, that we would die here and make way for the next generations on earth to live here.\" my dad said sternly. My mother was crying now. \n\n\"It must be so hard for him here, with no one but Hope to talk to.\" said my mother through her sobs. \n\n\"Not for long, Julian and Amy are sending her back by herself next year.\" \n\n\"Can't we send Perry?\" My mother asked, though she already knew the answer. \n\n\"No dear, it's not right to separate children from their families.\" I had heard enough. I went back to my room not hungry anymore. \n\nMy alarm went off; waking me for a sleep I didn’t remember entering. I quickly got dressed, and waited quietly for Hope. After a few minutes, I heard a gentle knocking on my door. \"Come in.\" I whispered. I offered her a snack to eat, but she wasn’t hungry. In silence, we left my room, moving to the suit room. We put our suits on, and only stopping to disable the alarm, we left the living areas. \n\n We walked side by side in the dark, not being able to see much. By the time out houses had vanished from view, the sun had started to rise. We sat down on a sand dune and watched a glorious sunrise. I suddenly asked her, \"What is Earth?\" \n\nShe said, \"I'm not supposed to tell you.\" \n\n\"You're not supposed to be out here.\" I replied. \n\nShe said nothing for a while, then said, \"It’s a planet. Where we came from, it has billions of people, and green trees, and water, and you don't have to wear a suit to go outside.\" At any other time I would not have believed her, but her tone told me she was telling the truth. \"I don't want to leave you behind, but it's not my choice.\" \n\nShe must have guessed I knew then. She sounded genuinely sorry, so I remained silent. After A long silence, I said, \"I'm coming with you.\" \n\nShe didn't object, or even ask how, she just sat quietly. We sat in another long silence until Hope finally said, \"Let's go back now.\" We got up, and walked back slowly, enjoying the Martian sand, and the open space. \n\nWe arrived just as our parents were waking up, quickly took of our suits, and reset the alarm. I walked casually back to my room, and Hope to hers. Immediately, exhaustion from lack of sleep took over, and I went to my bed and fell asleep with my shoes still on. \n\nThe next year went quickly, slowing down for my birthday, and then Christmas, and then Hope's Birthday. I acted Ignorant of Earth, and my parents kept lying to me. The night before the ship left, my parents came to my room. They told me Hope was leaving. I pretended to me mad at them, and sent them away. Although I was mad, the real reason I sent them away was because I didn't want to have to ask questions. \n\nThat night I wrote my parents a note. \n\nMother and Father \nTomorrow I am leaving with Hope. It's not because of anything you have done; I just need to be free. I need to escape this prison. I love you, and I'm really thankful for everything you have done for me, but I'm 16 now, and I must make my own choices. I have thought about it for a long time, and this is what I want to do. I love Hope, and I'm sure she shares these feelings for me. This is something I must do. I'm sorry. I will always love you. \nYour son forever, Perry. \n\nSatisfied with my note I went to bed. The next morning I hid in one of Hope's many suitcases, and was boarded onto the shuttle. The shuttle left before my parents knew I was gone. I came out of the suitcase and went to Hope. \n\n\"Hope I love you.\" I said. \n\n\"I love you too.\" She said back. This was the first time we ever spoke of it, but we always knew it. She took my hand, and together, hand in hand we headed towards our new home, our new life.",
"**Disclaimer:** This is my first response to a WP. I wrote it in the wee hours of the morning. It will probably suck at least a little. Feedback is appreciated.\n\nI didn't quite grasp it for a while. I believed it was true the way a little kid believes a fairy tale is true: never really stopping to contemplate it, just accepting it, because that's what you do when you're a kid. I heard all kinds of stories about Earth: its people, its history, its beauty. And like with little kids and fairy tales, as I got older I stopped asking to be told the stories. It seemed pointless. I was never going to go there. And how could a place like Earth really exist? How could the ground be anything but red dust? How could liquid water come in anything other than synthetic form? Was it really just sitting there, covering two thirds of the whole rock? How could there be people just living there, free of the plastic domes that our small colony was confined to?\n\nBut my obsession never quite died, the way it did with the other kids of couples who came to live on Mars. My parents were the first, but there were others who arrived a little after, upon seeing that my parents weren't dead. I guess that's why I was the only one who had any urge to actually escape. My parents were the most adventurous ones in the colony, and, as they supposedly said on Earth, \"the apple never falls far from the tree.\" I never tasted anything other than synthetic food on Mars, so this phrase never did fully resonate with me.\n\nMy dormant obsession became active once again when I turned 15, and was allowed to join the adults of the colony in their monthly video conference with the folks back home on Earth. It was around this time when I had my epiphany: Earth was real. It was freaking real. People would tell me later, of course it's real. Do you think we just made it up?\n\nUm, yeah. Adults make crap up all the time, especially with little kids, I wanted to say. But I held my tongue. Of course Earth was real. It just seemed too good to be true. But there it was, floating there, in space, just a few million kilometers away.\n\nWhy did anyone want to leave? I asked this repeatedly to the adults of the colony in the coming months. It just seemed so perfect. So much more livable than this piece of crap ball of rust. And there were so many people. Twelve billion! It would take lifetimes and lifetimes to meet them all. You wouldn't have to be stuck in a tiny bubble doing the same thing all day and every day. You could go wherever you wanted! That was what did it for me. I wanted freedom.\n\nMost of the answers I got from adults about why they came to Mars were vague and/or generic. A few, my parents included, told me they were simply \"tired of Earth\" and wanted to be the first humans to Mars. They didn't even care that they could never return. Insane, I thought. What would prompt someone to just do that? That's when I was given my first lesson about something called money, which was nonexistent in our little colony. Apparently, my parents' families were both given a pretty hefty amount of this stuff in gratitude for what my parents had done. Seemed pointless to me.\n\nAfter a while, my fascination once again died down, as I matured into a full-fledged adult and began to accept my role in the colony. But I never stopped thinking about Earth. One night, I must have been about 17, I was lying in bed, and I resolved to return to Earth. I didn't know how, but before I died, I was going to get off of this rock and get back to my true home. I was raised on the wrong planet.\n\nMuch sooner than expected, my opportunity came. A few months later, during one of the video conferences, I was asked to return to Earth, so the Earth's effects on the a native Martian could be observed.\n\nMy parents initially didn't allow it. They were told I likely wouldn't be asked to return to Mars, and they didn't want to part with me. Ironic, considering they didn't at all hesitate to part with their family back home on Earth (who, I might add, was eager to meet me). Finally, I promised them I'd return as soon as possible, and got the NASA people to do the same. I had absolutely no intention of fulfilling that promise. NASA, unfortunately, did.\n\nThe trip itself took about two weeks. Light speed travel still hadn't been achieved at that time, but we were getting close. I could barely contain my excitement. I was still convinced that when I was there, I would be able to convince them to let me stay, that they would just turn their backs on my parents (who I stupidly didn't realize were two of the most famous and hallowed people on Earth), and grant me asylum.\n\nWhen I got to Earth, I could hardly breathe. It was so heavy. This was expected; I came from a planet about half Earth's size, which meant its gravitational pull on me was about half as strong as that of Earth. I was 150 centimeters tall and weighed about 23 kilos on Mars, and on Earth I was 45. My bones could barely take the strain of suddenly gaining the weight of another person. Yet still, I needed to stay. Nothing was going to stop me. Nothing could quench the fire.\n\nI adjusted. After spending a year on Earth under constant medical supervision, I became used to the thick atmosphere, and the heavier pull. I missed being unable to jump three meters in the air, but it was a small price to pay. I had met my grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins, and got along with them surprisingly well. They showed me so much. I was also allowed to take classes at a top university, in exchange for being a test subject for many of my professors. I was becoming quite the Earthling.\n\nThen I had to go. I was set to head back to Mars in a week. I knew I had to make my escape then. I used some of my money to buy a bus ticket, and headed for Washington, D.C. I was going to find a country that would give me asylum. I knew the United States, where my parents were from, would never allow me to stay. So I was going to try a country that I had been told was enemies with the US: Russia.\n\nOf course, being as internationally famous as I was, the bus driver immediately recognized me and knew something was up. I used some of my money to bribe him. I could barely contain my excitement as the bus climbed further north. By morning, D.C. was only a few hundred miles away. The bus stopped at a highway rest stop so people could get off to use the restroom and stretch their legs. Waiting for it was the FBI. I didn't get off. The bus driver got out to meet them. They talked to the driver, who almost immediately pointed to the bus. I was done for.\n\nI was dragged off the bus and taken back to Florida, and a week later taken back to Mars. My parents knew all about the escape attempt. Being adventurous themselves, they don't blame me, but they definitely feel betrayed, since I told them I would come back. Our relationship will never really be the same.\n\nI still need to go back."
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[WP] Earth's time capsule launched into space returns with an ominous message.
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"\"I don't care what it says. Double check the NAV system. That's fucking impossible.\"\n\nDr. Vokaris stared blankly at the capsule in the containment room below him. It's body worn like something passed nervously between fingers too many times.\n\nHe was just a boy when they launched it. 2049. A hundred years of NATO. He remembered the celebrations. No major conflicts since they dropped the two bombs. It was \"The Great Peace,\" or *Pax Terra* to others. There was so much hope. He could still see his father peering down from his newspaper muttering under his breath. \"Waste of fucking money.\" He blinked back into the present. \n\nA haggard team of men in hazmat suits surveyed the capsule below him. Dark scorch marks pocketed the worn hull like hemorrhaged wounds. It's auxiliary solar panels were shaved in half. Initial readings indicated that the engines gave out only 19 years into it's life, but NAV systems continued to track vast acceleration and vector modification up until it blinked into existence over Mare Cognitum. One of the men carefully opened a panel and snaked his hand in to find the NAV chip. The coordinates that it relayed back after it's sudden reappearance in orbit over Luna were a scrambled mess. He remembered hearing about the meticulous engineers of NASA and the scores of redundancies that they built into their machines. \n\nHe shook his head. \n\nAfter some debugging the NAV records pulled up to the main console. His eyes poured over the information. He had always disagreed with the project and it's intentions, but still found himself marveling at the data recorded. The countless sensory systems and bolstered propulsion capabilities made the capsule disagreeably expensive, but provided invaluable information. His brow furrowed. The heat sensors held steady for much of the early journey, before catapulting into uncharted numbers and holding there for the remainder of the log.\n\n\"7.66 trillion degrees. That's fucking impossible.\" He said again, to no one in particular. The heat spike was preceded by an enormous rate of acceleration. Speed that the engine was not designed for or even physically capable of. The g-forces in theory would have been enough to tear the craft apart at a molecular level. Yet here it was.\n\nDr. Vokaris spoke into his audiolog. \"NAV information appears to be flawed. Sensors show that temperatures spiked above traditional estimates of physical temperature maximum. Despite premature engine failure, acceleration readings show rapid exponential increases before measurement devices failed . The peculiar thing is that all other systems on board correlate with these readings. These types of forces are similar to how we have theorized black holes would act upon a vessel. But all of those simulations always end with the vessel being destroyed. This cannot be accurate.\" \n\nHe looked down at the capsule and frowned. It was eerily regal in it's silence, like a man who knew too much but said too little. They motioned up to him and indicated that the decontamination process was complete. He descended the stairs into the room below. His eyes tracked upwards to take in the full scope of the vessel. He traced the bulbous body to the ornate narrowed tip where it cradled the remains of crushed antennae. He noted the primitive technology. He remembered the slowly tapering news stories. He heard about the capsule's progress less and less as the years wore on and the novelty wore off. Then in the first year of his undergrad, they reported that it vanished halfway between the Magellanic Clouds. Total equipment failure due to extrasolar radiation, they said. He thought he'd never see it again. Yet 37 years later, here it was. \n\nHe moved closer to the capsule, still careful to keep his distance. He instinctively wrapped his hand around his left ring finger and massaged his scar. One radiation burn was enough to last him a lifetime. He drew in a deep breath and frowned. Something smelled peculiar. He was no stranger to the smell of spacecraft, and like any man who had spent time offworld, he knew that space smelled like steak cooked over a burning engine. Like many of his colleagues, he grew fond of the aroma. But this was different. It smelled like sulfur. \n\nHe gave the order to open it. ",
"A lot of folks out there put their hopes and dreams into the 2018 Chronos Capsule. Nothing indulgent, no page-turners, but a few pieces of heart-felt writing in seven words or less, etched in tiny Adobe letters on the two thousand microSD cards taking up the lower nose of the bi-winged sphere. \n\nThe World Leaders had a few more, of course. Messages to their successors in fifty, maybe even a hundred years. \n\nThe bulk of the orb held the telemetry equipment, the cooling and heating pods and the veins of wiring that would keep the core, a mapping of the human race and as many of the genome indexes of diverse species still alive as we could squeeze out into insulated tubes, safe and preserved. Little scraps of food, like Naga pepper seeds, acorns, honey, just to name a few of the agricultural highlights, were also preserved on board. You see, the Chronos Capsule wasn't just a record of the earth circa. 2018, it was meant to be an emergency recovery kit, because, lets face it, we've not been kind in the years since the Industrial Revolution. No one really felt sure how much of our society or the fauna inhabiting it with us would still exist in 2068, let alone 2118. \n\nAt the head, the camera and storage equipment that would record static images and map the great journey across the Milky Way galaxy. Enough petabytes were packed away on board the CPU to rival not just one, but *two* human brains.\n\nThe launch was glorious. Every eye in the civilized world, electronic and real-time alike, watched it ascend on the back of *Mir-acle* and depart beyond our atmosphere. Then it was the International Space Station's eyes-in-the-sky that aired the footage of the Chronos Capsule taking a hold of its own motion and blazing a dusty trail out toward Mars.\n\nThat was supposed to be the end. International cooperation cooled over the following months and soon enough we were back to our old ways.\n\nIn 2021 the ISS reported an unsettling incident; the Chronos Capsule had *turned around*. \n\nOver the course of eight days their doubts cleared as fuzzy signals and imagery resolved into a ravaged shell of the orb holding all our prospects for an enduring society and world. The Chronos Capsule somehow survived re-entry despite its wear. Awaiting crews rescued it from the ocean.\n\nFor six months after that, we all awaited with baited breath an answer to what had gone wrong. Nothing but preliminary cues had been fed to the media, let alone the global populace; 'system failure' 'charting course mixed up' 'cooling units malfunctioned, triggering emergency return for preservation'.\n\nThe answer was far more sinister, I'm afraid. \n\nOut there nearing Pluto, the universe was reversing it's Big Bang at an inconceivable rate, and the light simply hadn't made it back to us yet to prove the infallible truth secured on the Chronos Capsule's databanks.\n\nAll our hopes and dreams are futile. \n\nThe Big Crunch won't be stopped.\n\nGoodbye, my friend. \n\n*gunshot*",
"Ralph made his way through the debris. An hour ago a meteorite hit Ralph's empty barn, starting a small fire and brought half the structure down. Ralph saw it come down and rushed to the scene, expecting to find a rock, instead he found a metal container covered in soot and burning ember. The container was badly damage, roughly looking like a pill chewed on and spit out. The embers glowed bright casting shadows on the sides of the pill. Unable to get a better look from his current position, Ralph puts out the fires and works on clearing the area.\n\nThe container, still hot from entry through the atmosphere, was not easily pulled from the small crater. Ralph's hands were wrapped with his jacket, as he pulled it out to the front of his truck when he heard another car pull up.\n\n\"Ralphie, What the hell happened?\" the driver said through his open window, geting out of his car, with the headlights still on and focused on the container.\n\n\"Randy?\" Ralph called out, able to make out his brother's voice through the idling engine, \"It fudged up the barn, I don't know what it is.\"\nRandy came closer and helped his brother move it closer to the headlights, wiping the soot from the sides where the faded letters, NASA, could be seen.\n\n\"I know what this is!\" Randy exclaimed, \"This is a time capsule, probably sent out around the time we were kids!\"\nThe two brothers quickly cleaned the capsule off with their hands and jacket. Flipping the container over the capsules door swings open, revealing a large cavity filled with ash and hard pieces of an unknown object that could be made out from the cars light.\n\n\"It looks like everything was destroyed,\" Randy said, reaching into the case and moving the cooling ash away from the surviving objects, \"Just these sticks look to have survived.\n\n\"Those dont look like sticks, Randy.\" Ralph looked closer, grabbing the object from his brother. He blows the ash off and puts it under the light. \n\n\"Randy,\" Ralph pauses and looks up at him, \"This is a bone...\"\nRandy looks shocked and terrified by the revelation and looks back into the container.\n\n\"Why would there be bones in a time capsule?\" Randy asked. Ralph turned the bone over and saw markings carved into the under side. Using his jacket to cleaned out the carvings, an incomplete phrase appeared on it. Reaching back into the container he pulled out the last pieces and cleaned them up, arranging them by size.\nThe words came together, as did the bones, resembling a broken leg.\n\n\"No... it cant be, its been over 30 years...\" Ralph trailed off, not knowing how to react. Randy looked over the bones and read them aloud.\n\n\"Be sure to drink your Ovaltine.\"",
"Dr. Richards stared through the thick porthole in the side of the shielded chamber, studying the Voyager satellite. \"How did it get into there?\" he asked his research assistant.\n\n\"It was just... there,\" the younger man glanced at his clipboard, \"The equipment picked up a huge radiation burst. No expirements were in progress, so I came down to take a look, and there it was.\"\n\n\"It's bigger than the door.\"\n\n\"I know. I've already purged the chamber, if you want to take a look. Everything is in the yellow to green range.\"\n\nDr. Richards double checked that his rad-sensitive badge was clipped to his lab coat. As long as he made it quick, he would be safe. \"Alright, crack the door.\"\n\nHis assistant typed a number into a keypad next to the chamber's door. With a hiss of equalizing pressure, the thick door swung open, pushed by hydraulic cylinders.\n\nThe Voyager filled most of the small room beyond, impossibly sitting beyond the standard door. \"You should be out of the solar system, by now,\" he muttered at it.\n\nCircling it, looking for any indication of how it ended up in his high energy lab, the doctor found the golden record that had famously been launched with it. The record was supposed to be in a protective case within the satellite, but had now been affixed to the side. Words in a variety of languages had been imprinted onto the surface of the record.\n\nLeaning closer, looking for an English translation of the message, he quickly found it. \"You remain under quarantine. Do not attempt to breach quarantine again. You will receive no further warnings. Any further attempts to breach quarantine will result in another orbital bombardment and civilization reset.\""
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[WP] Four friends witness a murder. None of them can seem to agree on what they should do.
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"\nThe four of them collapsed into the quiet corner cafe with wide eyed faces as white as the cloths on the empty tables. The old languid grey-haired waitress turned her bunned head at all the commotion.\n\n\"Quickly! Just sit here!\" said Patricia quickly but quietly. The rest followed her panicking antics and sat down around a square table. Dave picked up a menu and flicked straight to the sundaes. A nail-biting Patricia kept glancing beyond her shoulder. Anthony and Suzy bit their nails. The waitress tottled over.\n\n\"what can I get you?\" she said. She squinted at them from behind her scruffy notepad. Dave inhaled.\n\n\"I'd love a double fudge sundae,\" he said. Patricia stared at him from across the table while the waitress scribbled down his order.\n\n\"Seriously?\" she said. Dave shrugged.\n\n\"I'll have one too,\" said Suzy, with her polite spectacled smile. Patricia sighed, and glanced behind her once more. After five seconds of silence the bouncy squinting waitress plonked away into the kitchen.\n\n\"What the fuck are we going to do?\" said Patricia. She was reddening in the face. Dave shrugged, Anthony, who had been silently brooding with his thick brow finally spoke.\n\n\"Shit, I don't know.\"\n\n\"He saw us, right?\" asked Patricia.\n\n\"Definitely,\" said Suzy. The waitress was watching from behind the counter, pretending to be checking the dates on their huge colourful canisters of drink syrups. Suzy nodded over to her direction.\n\n\"She's listening,\" she whispered. They all turned at once.\n\n\"Okay let's be quiet,\" whispered Patricia, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand. \"I think we should report it,\" she said.\n\n\"No way,\" said Anthony, sternly, with his sweaty palms placed on the table. \"And what will we say when the police ask why we were there?\"\n\nNobody had an answer. All four of them were brooding quietly and deeply until the waitress appeared suddenly and snapped them out of their reveries.\n\n\"How about coffees?\" she asked, rolling her old tired eyes.\n\n\"No thanks,\" said Patricia.\n\n\"Actually,\" said the youthful voice of Dave, \"I'll grab a large mocha, thank you.\" Patricia evil-stared at him.\n\n\"I'll have one too,\" smiled Suzy, flashing Dave that affable smile again. He smiled back. The waitress bounced away with an old woman limp.\n\n\"We've just witnessed a brutal murder and you're ordering two desserts?\" she said, leaning half way across the table to try and stay private.\n\n\"Hey,\" said frowning Dave, \"It's not my fault I have the appetitive of a whale. Plus, it wasn't brutal, this kind of thing happens every day in this city.\"\n\n\"Dave, a girl died in front of our eyes!\" she whisper-yelled.\n\n\"ehh. It's not worth the hassle of reporting it,\" said Dave. Patricia licked her lips.\n\n\"It could have been your sister!\" she said, viciously, reddening in the face again. Fire burnt in her eyes and she was hiding her shaking hands below the table. Dave shrugged.\n\n\"Hey!\" said Suzy, \"that's not fair!\" The two women shared combative glares in this quiet mid afternoon diner. Anthony was still biting his fingernails, thinking up private ideas in his quick witted and confidently quiet mind.\n\n\"I agree with Dave. We shouldn't report it,\" he said. He almost always spoke in short sentences, to get to the point as quickly as possible.\n\n\"What!\" said a surprised Patricia, whom expected Anthony at least to be on her side of morality.\n\n\"The murder saw us. He could kill us,\" he said. The waitress strolled across the creaky tiled floor and placed two cups of frothy brown mocha on the table. The group went silent.\n\n\"The sundaes are on their way,\" she said, before turning away slowly. She lingered for as long as possible. The group looked decestated, crestfallen, lost. Dave put down his cup and with a thick layer of chocolate milk across his upper lip he opened his mouth.\n\n\"So let's kill him first.\"\n\nSuzy smiled, like she always did at Dave's jovial and laid back humour. Patricia huffed and puffed.\n\n\"We don't want to try that,\" said Anthony, sitting as upright as ever.\n\n\"Why not?\" asked a curious Dave.\n\n\"You don't want to fight a hitman.\"\n\n\"A hitman?\" said Patricia instantly. \"How do you know he was a hitman?\"\n\n\"I'm just assuming,\" said Anthony. He turned his head to the great big window to the side of them, squinting out to something mysterious to the rest of the group. Patricia looked unsettled, agitated, biting her lip and squeezing her fists. Anthony's phone vibrated on the table and made the three others jump.\n\n\"Don't answer that!\" yelled Patricia. \"What if it's the police?\" Dave laughed at her wild paranoia. Suzy shifted closer to him and smiled at his humour. Anthony gulped, and picked up the phone in his large right hand.\n\n\"Hello?\" he asked. The group watched silently. \"Yes,\" said Anthony, ignoring the waves and pleas from the three others wondering who it was.\n\n\"Understood,\" said Anthony. He put the phone back in his pocket and looked down towards his shoes. \n\n\"What is it Anthony?\" shouted Patricia.\n\n\"I'm so sorry,\" he murmured. \n\n-\n\nNinety minutes later, Officer Thorne walks out of the cafe shaking his head. \n\n\"It'a just not right, Alan. Four innocent people just dead in a pool of blood in a god damn cafe in the middle of the day!\" he spitted. He was furious, fuming, shaking his head.\n\n\"I used to come here every second weekend,\" said Alan.\n\n\"Oh I'm sorry to hear that.\"\n\n\"I knew the waitress. She used to always give me double syrup on my pancakes for free,\" said a gloomy Alan. \"She was a lovely lady.\"\n\n\"Ah,\" threated Thorne, shaking his head as he looked back through the huge cafe window. \"This life isn't fair, Alan. Life just isn't fair.\"\n",
"“Nobody. Saw. *Nothin’*. “ Frank said, pointing at the other two as they crouched in the mud, bringing his index finger down to emphasize the last two words. \n\t\n\nIt had an intense effect. The sergeant’s stripes on the side of his sleeve brought authority, sure, but it couldn’t be compared with the natural authority that his two hundred and thirty pounds of bulk brought. Nor could it compete with the unshaven, mud smeared severity of his face, emphasized by the bloodshot eyeballs of a man who had only gotten four hours of sleep in the last thirty six hours. \n\t\n\n“Nothin’ hell! That sonofabitch fragged the Lieutenant! We all saw it!, Ain’t that right Caputo?” Jimmy piped up loudly in his high pitched southern voice and cast a beseeching look at Caputo. \n\t\n\nCaputo was young, only eighteen. He hadn’t the stomach for this kind of thing; he simply hung his head and stared at the ground. If he’d had time to turn it over in his mind he probably would have realized that of all the many shocking realities of war he’s come into contact with these last three days this was the most troubling by far. \n\t\n\nHe had indeed seen the company first sergeant lob rather than throw the grenade in the midst of a hot night action right in the direction of their platoon leader. He’d seen the explosion and the Lieutenant’s body with its head half off its body, half the left leg gone, and a gaping chest wound which had time only for a few brief, but spectacular spurts of blood before it stopped altogether. \n\t\n\nBut he hadn’t had any time to think about it or reflect. All he thought about at that minute was the ferocity that suddenly sounded from the otherwise gentle Frank’s voice and his large burley form looming over him even as they crouched low to the ground. That and Jimmy’s outraged plea for justice; the intimidating Jimmy who was old in war and short in temper. And the hundred odd pounds of lean, pure muscle that made up his tall but slim form. \n\t\n\n“Well?” Jimmy asked; and at that moment another private walked by, a young man who had been brought up to the line along with Caputo. He looked as though he wanted to join they’re huddle for gossip or complaint as the occasion might offer. Caputo merely hung his head but Frank and Jimmy shot him such cold, forbidding glances that the young man simply straightened up while adjusting the rifle on his shoulder and continuing on as though he had planned to walk by them all along. \n\t\n\n“It’s not gonna do anybody any good” Frank said in his thick, city-boy accent. “You can’t prove he did a damn thing and you don’t know for certain he did anything he wasn’t supposed to do. Anybody can fumble a grenade.” \n\t\n\n“The hell I don’t!” Jimmy said, outraged. \n\t\n\n“Keep. Your. *Fucking*. Voice. Down.” Frank said ferociously. \n\t\n\n“C’mon Frank, he killed our own C.O.; you know it ain’t right and you know *he* ain’t right. Anyone of us could be next. You wanna go on patrol with that sonofabitch?”. \n\t\n\nFrank wanted to say that the Lieutenant had it coming. That he had no kind of authority and no kind of head for war. They had been on a dangerous night patrol, and because the Lieutenant couldn’t read a goddamned map, they had run smack into the enemy line. But despite the machine guns and sheer volume of fire, their platoon leader had insisted it was a Japanese patrol and was about to send Frank, Jimmy and Caputo on a flanking mission to help eliminate them. \n\t\n\nIn that case the three would almost certainly have moved a hundred yards left only to collide with more Jap troops and been cut to ribbons. \n\t\n\nBut Frank didn’t want to say *anything* more than he had to in this situation. \n\t\n\n“I didn’t see shit” Frank said. “All I saw was the grenade go off, if it was a grenade. Mortar fire started right after, that coulda been the first round. And then Sarge got us the hell out of there before we were all killed”. \n\t\n\n“I don’t believe this” Jimmy said looking at Caputo. \n\t\n\n“Maybe he’s right” Caputo finally mumbled looking at the ground again. The story wasn’t that farfetched. Best case scenario their First Sergeant hadn’t really done anything wrong and it was a Jap grenade or mortar round that killed their Lieutenant. And worst case scenario and unlawful killing had saved Caputo’s life from a suicide mission. \n\t\n\n“Then it’s settled” Frank said. “There’s no need to fuck around at a time like this”. \n\t\nIt was true. Their company had been moved to the rear in reserve while the other three companies in the battalion held the line. But they might be called away at any moment in case of a breakthrough or in case there were pockets of resistance that sprang up behind the lines…it had happened several times in the last few days. \n\t\nAnd in any event all four companies in the battalion were down to below half strength. There was no way anybody was going to pull and experienced First Sergeant off the line at a time like this based on rumor and hearsay. Especially from a company down a platoon leader. \n\t\n“It’s settled” Frank said nodding towards Caputo. “You’ve got no one to back you up and nobody really knows a damn thing. We have a good first sergeant who probably saved a lot of lives last night. Do yourself a favor Jim, and don’t worry about it”. \n"
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[WP] A tale of jealousy and revenge as a cosmic event grants super human abilities to every human on the planet.... well, everyone except for you...
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"Human intrinsic nature and knowledge has never been the same after the Great Calamity. Every human evolved some form of super human power, heck my mother could render anything in the vicinity of her hearing completely void of noise. The vibrations still existed atomically, scientists said, but it was as if the minute shakes and stirs didn't register in anyone's or anything's ears. You could tell when she was reading (which was most of the time) when suddenly all noise fell on deaf ears.\n\nMy sister could manipulate the colour of any object in her sight, you'd think that's pretty useless but god damn she's good at board games. Not to mention the commercial use of her abilities, advertisers and companies all over the world requested her services in decorating various miscellaneous items, on a spectrum of simple furniture fixed to look opulent to entire rooms that looked like 6 star penthouse suites at the most luxurious hotels. Even though no such gold or marble existed under these coats of illusion. She made sure our family was always living in comfort.\n\nCousin Joe's was my favourite though, he could make anything edible rotten instantaneously. As kids we would often swing on the monkey bars and looking for potential participants to trick. They never saw it coming, that delicious sandwich you made at home? Tastes like 18 day old chicken with a strong touch of Vegemite. \n\nHowever I was never affected, I never obtained supernatural powers. I wish I did, because the world was in perennial disorder. Humans with potentially harmful powers would often revel in the power and lose all thought of rationality. And it was hard to lock these people up, because you'd have to beat them first.\n\nAnd I could never beat people, I could never win with pure effort. Always being triumphed by abnormal skills, no matter how weak they were. It would be a lie to say I wasn't jealous of everyone else's aptitude for augmented human capabilities. But jealousy wasn't the dominant force that supplemented my desire for power. Revenge was.\n\nBack in 24' a demon with the power to manipulate and create strong winds intentionally crashed planes that were flying over secluded areas. My family decided to go on vacation one day while I was in college and no one in our circles of family and friends had any transportation powers. My perturbation compelled me to check in with a clairvoyant agency. None of which had powers to see into the future, it was always changing, and foreseeing into the future itself morphed the future anyways. Giving the lady all the details of my mother she was able to see the entire event in her eyes. It cost me an entire fortune, because her powers had a disadvantage. She had to maintain at least 30 minutes of clairvoyance before she could disengage the client.\n\nI had payed extra to see the events myself, a man with the power to bestow the vision of another person. Right hand for client, left hand for vision. As he said.\n\nIt was terrifying and distressing. The plane was descending at rapid speed, it's cockpit aimed into the ground. Screams everywhere, the sounds of malfunctioning ringing through the speakers, flashing lights, and a terrible sound of gusts and shattering glass. Then boom.\n\nThe vision deteriorated, what could be seen was a large separation of the plane. Framing what looked like a rainforest, surrounded by small obscure flames and falling debris. Then the silhouette of a man, walking slowly through the large gap in the plane and scrounging for anything of value. Corpses lay everywhere, the distorted consciousness of my mother rendering her oblivious to what had just happened. She began to look around her and saw my sister's face, covered in blood looking directly at her from only a few feet away. Her screams were of a volume, enough to cut through her own ability to create silence. The man hesitantly turned from his routine and stared at my mother, shortly after walking to her. He knelt down and examined her face, and I could feel the rage in me burning my entire psyche, collapsing whatever would have been left of me in an instant. In futile attempt to stop him from what everyone knew he was about to do I screamed in fury. As if oblivious to any sense of me he used his powers to slowly asphyxiate her. A surge of anger and sorrow flew into me as I was useless to do anything. The vision turned black and that was the end of my being.\n\nThe woman was silent and her gaze absent. As if her consciousness wasn't in control of her. She stared at the wall in eerie silence. It hadn't been 30 minutes and she was now caught in an astral loop. \n\n-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nHow long has it been? 5-10 years? My hard work paying off, as I was now a match for almost any superhuman given I had the element of surprise. A career of catching and incapacitating superhuman's is all I ever focused on after the incident. My sniper rifle and esoteric black nano carbon fibre suit resisting even the strongest of influences on me. It was the external manipulators I had to be weary of, their blows could render a normal person like me dead in moments. \n\nI loaded the anti matter containment bullets one at a time. Naming each piece as I appreciated the beauty of such trivial projectiles. Starting from the bottom of the clip and making my way to the top.\n\n\"Andy Foreman, Tim Cater, Sarah Gene, Phillip Foster, Dakota Farring, Michael Switz, Danielle Parkington, Melissa Parker, Dan Breeman.\" \n\nThe last bullet, to which I had coated with mind altering toxins to induce an unfathomable amount of pain and torment, I had examined in contempt. After loading it in my rifle I gazed through the sites that allowed me a preemptive advantage through long distance. \n\nAn image pervaded my mind, the image of a man with scruffy hair and an unshaven beard. Who had a dead look in his eyes, one of indifference and psychopathy. The image morphed into the physical world as my sights were laid upon a man attending to his stolen goods in utter glee inside a remote structure surrounded by rainforest. My aim settled on his pulsating heart.\n\n\"Maurie Baker.\" I said in cold embrace. As I fulfilled my purpose in a loud bang.\n\n*Revenge is mine.*\n\n----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nEDIT: Some words.",
"Life is just SHIT sometimes, you know.\n\nAt first I didn't see it. I tried everything. There were clearly no physical changes. I felt the same in my head too. There WAS this element of lingering thrill in my head. But that could easily be attributed to the cosmic quake which shook the whole world.\n\nI finally heeded my friend's advice and met his new girlfriend. She gained the ability to sense powers, and that's how she found my friend, Mr.StayHardForever. Pfft. Anyways, the nympho scanned me for any possible powers, I have none.\n\nIt was in less than an hour that I had found myself on national TV. As if being interviewed by an obscenely large breasted woman, who I might add had the ability to have ANY size of breasts and CHOSE to have that, and didnt know how to ask a single question without making me feel like a pathetic powerless person, it was my neighbors who were the worst.\n\nI had always been into cosplay and I had all these costumes. I would throw parties and people would turn up and I'd always be the best among them all. And look now. I was the one that just LOOKED like a superhero whole others actually WERE.\n\nGone were the days when I could dress up as something cool and that would be enough to be the best. I could dress as the best possible fictitious figure and yet, even my lame friend who gained the useless power of sweating lemonade on command would have been cooler than me.\n\nNow there were actual superhero parties all around me and I could do nothing about it. \n\nI felt like an outcast for weeks at end. I was jealous and angry and hurt. Until it hit me. I had something nobody else did.\n\nI was the only one normal in the world. Uncorrupted and unspoiled by any \"diseases\" unlike others. I was the anchor. I was the only remaining scale of normalcy.\n\nAnd, my degree in psychology finally came in handy. And so it began. \n\n**Superhero Therapy**\n\n*****\n\nIt has been over and year now and I am doing good. You can't see me professionally that easy now. I'm much sought after. For special friends of course I have some hours kept aside at all times but otherwise, my assistant tells me, there is an 8-month wait period.\n\nI'm arguably one of the most important figure in the world, possibly MOST important, right behind the Invincible Girl, Wise-Guy etc.\n\nAnd why would I not be. There was no one they could turn to. There is no God in a world where everyone can make miracles. Except a Man. Someone to remind them what they lost. I'm their therapist, their priest, their cleanser. They come to me and pour their heart out and I make them feel human again. They let go of all that they have been holding on, the unforgivable mistakes, the pride, the anxiety of the competition, everything. Even the worst of them are like putty in my hands. \n\nAnd they WORSHIP me. They ALL worship me. They better. I know ALL about them. Their deepest darkest insecurities, their mistakes, their crimes, EVERYTHING. \n\nHa. To think that I used to wish to have some silly power instead of THIS. THIS is the true power. The power to command everyone's envy and respect at the same time. The power to allow someone to worship me at my feet.\n\nLife's what you make of it. And it's just Awesome sometimes, you know."
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[WP] You come to a fork in the road with a sign. The arrow pointing right says “Nothing is left,” and the arrow to the left says “Nothing is right.”
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" - Shit. \n\n Wes cried. \n\n - This kid goes fucking poetic now. \n\n I just nodded without an answer, arms crossed, trying to be hinted by the details. Type and the color of the letters were the same as the previous signs.\n\n - So, is it saying nothing will be left if we go right? Guess we just go left then.\n\n I suggested, hardly realizing what I was meaning.\n\n - Nah, this kid's been literal as fuck. Man we did have to shoot a cat for a fucking 'cathunt'. Seriously. If nothing will be left when we go right, nothing would be right when we choose left. That sounds way too identical for his typical question. This one is not asking what we prefer.\n\n Wes tried to reason. The question indeed looked more of a riddle than a matter of choices, unlike so far.\n\n - Why would he get vague so suddenly?\n\n - Shit's getting over.\n\n - Where do we go then?\n\n Wes turned to me as I asked.\n\n - Look, we're not buying this, friend. If nothing is left is what we get from going right, we just going left and get outta this shit in a wrong way. \n\n I hesitated to answer, looking for more clues from the signs.\n\n - See, I was promised a million for this, and I promised a million for my people too. And you, you're promised freedom after this. Whether you're a rapist or not -\n\n - I'm not.\n\n - I'm saying I DO NOT fucking care!\n\n Wes yelled at me for the first time. I thought of Arie. She still looked fairly cute when I drowned her back in hours. Soaking her to death, I thought I was trying to be free again.\n\n - Come on or not, we ain't got time for this.\n\n He started to move towards left side of the fork. At that moment, I felt powerless and vain. Epinephrine or whatever that has driven me here just faded. I joined for freedom, which was all for watching and touching Arie again. And I just did watch and touch her. I was happy to kill Arie. She was already unconscious and could not even realize herself dying, according to the sign. Who would have wanted to kill a conscious person instead? I was right to make that call, even if I knew it would be Arie I was going to kill. She is technically a betrayer. She made me a criminal. But who could I love more after promised freedom? I could hear Wes swearing at me dimly as he disappeared into the left side. I could not follow him up. He chose to leave. Nothing is left. I read the sign and moved along the right side.",
"\"Alice dear,\" the White Rabbit spoke, \n\n\"'Tis the end of the road.\"\n\n\"Whatever do you mean?\" Alice asked.\n\n\"'Tis interpreted twice, at least,\" the White Rabbit explained.\n\n\"For either Nothing lies left nor right,\"\n\n\"or upon the left nothing remains,\n\n\"and upon the right, all is wrong.\"\n\n\"I wish to see,\" Alice said, stepping between both signs.\n\n\"Alice dear,\" the White Rabbit spoke gently\n\n\"'Tis yet another mad place, this be,\"\n\n\"wrought from and for insanity.\"\n\n\"Come,\" the White Rabbit said.\n\n\"Let us turn around, quickly, for there are more wonders to see.\"\n\n\"I cannot,\" Alice disagreed.\n\n\"I wish to see,\" she said, \"whether either sign is true of what each portends to be.\"\n\n\"Alice, Alice dear!\" the White Rabbit said quickly.\n\n\"You should not, please not, explore so hastily!\"\n\n\"For each road may end in the den of a Jabberwocky!\"\n\nAlice picked up her Vorpal Blade, the one that snicker-snacked so delightfully.\n\n\"If, by chance, a Jabberwocky lies down each road,\" Alice spoke\n\n\"Then a Jabberwocky I shall smote,\"\n\n\"for, dear craven White Rabbit, eternal companion of mine down twisted roads,\"\n \n\"Your dear Alice has grown tired of these Wonderland's games.\"",
"Crumpled paper formed miniature mountains as it spilled over the edges of my trashcan. Scratching my head, I read the sentence aloud before hitting the backspace key and starting over. The blank page mocked me, its existence was proof of my failures and it seemed to grow stronger with each passing hour. The chair squeaked under my heft as I threw myself backwards, unleashing an exasperated yell that devolved into a moan as my fingers slid down my face. Thinking back to all that I'd written, I questioned whether I was truly meant for such things, or if I'd be better suited to fade into obscurity. Before the voice in my head could answer the question for me, I lifted myself from the chair and walked out of the house.\n\nMany of my favorite authors and content creators suggested walking as a form of processing thoughts and discovering the path that one's concept should take. Certain that anything would be better than remaining stagnant before the screen in my room, I chose to take them up on their advice. My feet clumsily slapped the asphalt, propelling me forward down the road as I search for answers in the gray areas between the countless stars that stretched along the winding way. This path led to another and another still, spanning a distance as seemingly endless as the night sky itself. Though it was man made, I found some beauty in it and the places that it took me. Without meaningful thought on my direction, I continued along until I found myself lost.\n\nI thought back to my previous steps and attempted to find my way back to a place that I recognized, or at least to something remotely resembling civilization. Amid the overhanging trees and large fields, I felt small, a feeling that I imagined was only further magnified by my lostness. As the overgrowth grew denser, I noticed that the path seemed to veer in two opposing directions, both were roads that I had not taken. Intrigued by this sudden development, I drew closer to the sign that stood between them with an arrow pointing both ways. One arrow said that nothing was left, while the other stated that nothing was right. I stood for a time and considered both signs, finding that neither path seemed worse for wear.\n\nAs the sun began to lower behind the trees, I came to a conclusion at last. If nothing was right and left was where the nothing was, then surely I would want to take the left path as I wouldn't want to be wrong. This thought amused me so greatly that I chose to take the left path and discover what lie at its end. As I traveled along this strange road, I found the environment growing brighter and brighter until I awoke at last. Lifting my head from the desk, I gently massaged my aching neck. I looked around my room with a great deal of confusion until the situation worked itself out in my head. Laughing heartily, I took to the keyboard once again to type out the story of my dreams.\n\n-193",
"The harsh desert I had traveled for as long as I remember suddenly gave way to a grassy clearing. Immediately before me stood a great oak, barren of leaves but sturdy and old. Upon the oak were two planks inscribed with directions. \n\n\"Nothing is Right\" exclaimed the one on the left, its crisp wood sharpened so as to point the way left of the tree, enticing me towards its path. Behind it was a cobble road, clean and fresh. Built but never used. Though I could not see the end, it seemed civilization would lie ahead. Much needed rest for the weary. \n\n\"Nothing is Left\" pronounced the rightward sign. Lying to the right of the great oak was a overgrown forest path. A steady stream of men had once blazed a proper trail here, but now it was ridden with grass and weeds. The path had seen ages without use, abandoned and forgotten. Whatever once laid at the end of this road likely shared the same fate. \n\nI wondered what cruel craftsman had decided to play this paradoxical joke. \n\n\"Nothing is Right\" may yet be true. whatever kin once used the forest path were most likely gone. Their traditions, accomplishments, morals, all destroyed by the ebb of time. \n\n\"Nothing is Left\" seemed valid as well. If there was civilization at the end of the cobble road, it was an isolated one. None had ever traveled the road, so there could be nothing worth traveling it for. \n\nExhausted by my life's journey, I sat and rested against the great oak. Before me I saw the vast expanse of the hot desert where I had spent most of my days. I had no desire to return there, and I felt so close to finding home. Yet the strength that remained me surely would not allow a traversal of both paths. \n\nI surveyed my options once again. The decision I was to make may be my last. To the left was a proper and pure road; ideal but untested. I would gladly follow its path if others had before me, but I dared not be the first to find what lied at its end. To the right, a tried and tested path which surely once had a use. However, something became of it's people for they traveled it no more, and I did not want to meet their same fate. \n\nThe oak tree loomed before and above me, as if casting judgement on my final decision. I looked to it for wisdom, and saw that its trunk rose to the clouds. Branches sprawled out above me, reaching every end of the sky. Powerful and wise, if any knew the solution I sought it would be her. Rather than voyage down a path of nothingness, I decided to climb. \n\nThe trunk remained thick as I ascended, holding fast and true. As I climbed, the branches obstructed my view. If I was to see what lay at the end of the two paths, I would have to reach the top. The ascent was long and tiresome and I feared that afterwards I would not have strength enough to make it down the correct path, but at least I would know. I climbed what seemed like an eternity, through the dense branches which spread through the sky. As I climbed, the air became fresh and cool. I passed through the clouds and above them. Before long the branches became so thick that I could not see the sun, but I climbed on. \n\nJust as I was worried I would not finish my task, I saw a parting of the branches. Light shone through like a ray from heaven and I soon made my way to the top of the trees. As I emerged from the darkness I was blinded by the radiance of the evening sun. After some time, I could see the paths before me, lit by the orange hue of the approaching sunset.\n\nTo the left, the cobble road headed straight for the horizon until it reached the edge. To the right, the forest path weaved a snakelike path towards the setting sun. Directly before me, I saw the two roads meet. Where they met was Nothing. There was no city, no civilization. There were no further paths or alternate routes. The cobble road met the forest path and the forest path met the cobble road. To travel the left would be to travel the right and the end would be the beginning. \n\nI hung awhile at the top of the tree, pondering the hopelessness of the situation before me. Had I truly traveled countless miles for countless years to reach the end in the road? I wallowed in my sadness for some time before it occurred to me to look back upon where I can came. I turned around and behind me lay the vast, empty expanse of the desert wasteland. Empty, except for small figures moving towards me from the horizon. There were others who had traveled my same path and would reach the same destination. The paradoxical riddle which told only truth and led nowhere. \n\nIt was then I knew what I must do. \n\nAs the sun finished its descent, I began mine. I climbed down the tree as quickly as it would let me and before I knew it, I had reached the ground. I looked once more upon the cryptic puzzle of the oak tree and once more at the paths that laid beyond it. Towards that direction, there was no future. I turned and looked upon the grueling desert where I had once traveled and longed to be free from. There, with the other walkers of that desperate road, lied hope. \n\nI would wait here for the other travelers and here, under the wise and powerful oak tree, we would build a city. I drew my knife from my side and carved into the great oak the solution to the timeless riddle - the new city's name. Let it be known to all that travel here from that this day that:\n\n When \n Nothing is Right, Nothing is Left\n\n",
"The wanderer stared at the signs for a long time. They held the sort of message a gypsy might pass of as advice to the unwise. But he was a world weary traveler, and the yet the signs still befuddled him. Were they warnings about something had or would come to pass? Were they hints to some odd mystical riddle that he wasn't aware of? Were they some sort of philosophical statement? He shook his head at that last thought. It was unlikely; most scholars and philosophers remained in cities or universities. Travelling wasn't safe, and a cozy profession like theirs afforded them the ability to choose never to move. \n\nAt this, though, the wanderer thought. Where would he rather go to? A world where nothing was left or a world where nothing was right? He leaned left, for he believed himself a righteous man. A man of duty and principle who always held the moral high ground. And yet, there was a part of him leaning right. That survival instinct that nagged and asked what danger there was in a world where nothing was left. At least in a world where nothing was right, there was still something. A mangled facsimile of what he'd become accustomed to seemed more comforting than absolute nothingness. \n\nSo the wanderer stood before the signs, helpless. It was no longer about where he would physically find himself. Even if both roads led to the same location, he could not continue forward. He was temporarily trapped in an abstract decision. It didn't matter where he'd end up now, it was the figurative repercussions to his decision that mattered now. He was frozen now, unable to act.",
"A girl awoke in the middle of a road surrounded by oak trees, woods so thick they choked out the noise of the outside world.\n\nShe didn’t remember how she got there, couldn’t even remember her own name. The words were on the tip of her tongue but the more she focused on them the more they seemed to elude her. “I think my name started with an S” the nameless girl said aloud to herself, a hint of pride in her voice. “It’s all about the little victories right? A letter, a memory, a…path?” This last line trailed away from her as she looked ahead at the two diverging roads that lay before her.\n\nA trail marker stood between the two paths, made of the same oak trees that surrounded it. The girl without a name approached it, running her hand along the roughly hewn words in its surface. “The forest of Eciduis” she read out-loud. The sign had two arrows, one pointing left and one right. The arrow pointing to the left read “Nothing is right” while the arrow pointing right said simply “Nothing is left”.\n\nA sharp pang ran through the head of the nameless girl as those words danced in her mind, tossing and twirling as she fell to the ground. The sign was the last thing she saw before she fell into a deep, restless sleep. \n\nMemories flowed back disjointedly as she slept; a joyful smile, a warm embrace, love. These memories made her smile. Then more came, these were not as pleasant. Betrayal, anger, a fight, a slamming door and words she wished she could take back. She wished the nightmare would end but knew it had not yet run its course. There were empty bottles around here, some with the last drops of amber liquid inside of them and the rest now devoid of the pills they once carried. She saw a note, saw her tears falling from her cheeks onto the paper and as her breath shallowed she saw herself writing the last lines she ever would. “Nothing is right, nothing is left”\n\nA girl awoke in the middle of a road surrounded by oak trees, woods so thick they choked out the noise of the outside world.\n",
"How long have I been sitting here?\n\nI don't even remember where I'm from. I'm not sure I remember how to stand, or walk, once I'd made my decision. The path I'd come from was well trodden but between the time I'd come upon the fork and now, not a soul passed me by. Neither from the left nor right paths.\n\nI grumbled and looked at the arrow pointing left. \"Nothing is right\", it said. \"There is nothing on the right. It is barren save for Nothing. Whether a thing, a time or place, there is only Nothing there. Nothing's right here, and there is nothing right here.\"\n\nI turned to its twin pointing right. \"Nothing is left,\" it said. \"There is nothing left here. It has been taken out, until all we are left with is Nothing. Whether a thing, a time or place, there is only Nothing here. There is nothing left, and there is nothing left here.\"\n\nThey did not say as much. But sitting here for as long as I have, that is the essence of my choice.\n\nWas nothing right with me? Was there nothing left of me?\n\nFor the first time I considered turning back. I don't remember if I passed by any towns or villages - I must have. I could take shelter there, or perhaps ask for directions.\n\nSomehow, if I did, then the fork would vanish, and they would deny any knowledge of its existence. I knew this with absolute certainty.\n\nWhere *was* I going? I don't even remember. What prompted my journey? I don't remember. I have been sitting at this fork in the road for far too long.\n\nAt first I thought I imagined the footsteps. Then they grew louder and louder, until I could not have imagined them. I turned; back along the path from which I came, a young man came tramping along atop a magnificent horse. He wore simple robes but even from a distance I saw they were quite clean. His hair, short though it was, waved in the wind, and I saw sitting atop his brow a furrow so deep it could only have been placed there.\n\nHe came up to the fork and took no notice of me, instead occupying himself reading the signs. I was about to tell him that it's no good, the signs don't help, when without a moments' hesitation he took the left path.\n\nMy jaw hanging open, I stared at his retreating back. How did he know where to go? I managed to cry out, to call out to him, asking \"How did you know where to go?\"\n\nAll he did was turn, fix me with his steely gaze, and turn back and move on.\n\nLeft dumbfounded, I sat back down, staring again at the sign pointing left. \"Nothing is right\", it said. \"There is nothing on the right. It is barren save for Nothing. Whether a thing, a time or place, there is only Nothing there. Nothing's right here, and there is nothing right here.\"\n\nHow could he have deduced its meaning so quickly?\n\nThe sound of something being dragged along the ground shocked me out of my reverie. I turned to see an old man, or a man appearing to be old, in battered armor dragging what was left of his sword along the ground. As he neared I saw no furrow on his brow, but lines everywhere else on his face. He looked to be my age, if one could erase them. He stared at nothing but the horizon, large dilated eyes seemingly dead to the world.\n\nHe stopped to read the signs, ignoring me as the young man had.\n\nThen he smirked.\n\nDragging his sword along, he went right.\n\nI could not take it anymore. \"Hey! Hey!\" I called out to him, and started after him - stopping just as the path right started. I could not go with him. Not until I had decided where I was going.\n\nTo his credit, he answered, but it was..unsatisfactory. \"'geroff,\" was all he said.\n\n\"Please! Tell me, how do you know to go to the right?\"\n\nThen he stopped, turned, and held his arms out so that I may see him in his entirety. \"LOOK AT ME!\" he said, showing where the buckles of his pauldrons had been shorn off, where his shins had been hacked at, where scars were made right in the chinks of his armor. Where the light had gone out of his eyes, which at one time might have made the world shudder to see them.\n\nThen he turned and walked, I none the wiser. I sat back down, and read the sign to the right. \"Nothing is left,\" it said. \"There is nothing left here. It has been taken out, until all we are left with is Nothing. Whether a thing, a time or place, there is only Nothing here. There is nothing left, and there is nothing left here.\"",
"The arrows taunted the traveller. The road to the right was in disrepair, potholed and worn. The road on the left looked like it had been laid yesterday. Looking toward the rightmost horizon revealed that the road faded away into the wilderness. The leftmost horizon, on the other hand, was pierced by gleaming towers of steel and glass, coming from a city surrounded by a patchwork quilt of well-tended fields. \n\nThe traveller was not impressed. He sought to live in the world, not apart from it. Such conspicuous consumption seemed like an affront to nature. For him, life was all about the journey, not the destination. He was already on his journey; he needed nothing. Therefore, he turned right.",
"I shook my head as I walked. *What could have inspired such a crude message to unwary travelers?*\n\nTwo hours down the left path, I emerged from a barren, rocky trail to a butte, overlooking an ocean of madness. Where there ought have been greenery, shrubs and daisies, an expanse of meadows and fields and the unwritten poetry of life, there was mere rock, craggy, barren... as desolate as the empty warrens of the incline I'd just traversed. More, as far as my eyes could see, the wasteland extended.\n\nNo dust, no remnants, no indication of what had changed. Nothing was left.\n\nI returned down the path, navigating the slope as carefully as I could, dreading what I'd find down the right path, given the evident results of the ominous message. Every stone looked the same, every twist of the path seemed just as lonely, dry and forlorn as the last.\n\nAt last, two hours later I came to the spot where I'd entered the path. I turned, looking for the sign which ought to be just around the bend... \n\n... and found another twist in the road. Another gully, another trench, another dry riverbed, empty of life and comfort, sustenance or vibrancy. \n\n*The path was here before, I* know *it, I* **saw** *it.*\n\nI double back, to ensure I didn't miss it or pass it. I search for an hour, and return again to this spot. *The orange moss on the jagged rock to the left. A multicolored sheen in the shade on the right - looks like oil. This is it!*\n\nRealizing five hours of walking through rough terrain is likely to leave anyone weary, I sat for a moment in the shade, a brief reprieve from the sun, but none at all from my own confusion. *Perhaps... it was a bit further on.*\n\nI resolve to push on further, ensuring that I hadn't missed the fork. *And anyway, anywhere would be a welcome sight after this gully.* I take to the path again, determined to find my way out of this twisted maze.\n\nTwo hours later, with no passages to either side, still stuck in this blasted gully, I let out a sigh. It's late, and I've certainly been missed at my village by now. Is my village even still there? Is nothing left? Nothing is right.\n\nA scuttling, off to the side. A change in the atmosphere. I hear a lone, familiar voice call my name.\n\n\"Hey, Listen!\"",
" I walked down the road, my erstwhile companion bounding alongside me with a spring in his step. His short red hair and piercing blue eyes bother me; I didn't ask for company as I entered the dream ritual, but there he was just the same. His shirt was an eclectic mix of different fabrics sewn together with different threads, and his pants were an ordinary set of denim jeans. The sneakers he wore reminded me of my favorite pair of Converses I'd owned when I was still in high school, black and red. I looked down at the path as I trod along, the small gravel stones feeling smooth and cool on my feet. The trees filtered whispers of the wind far above the forest as I walked, and I soon came to a fork in the road.\n\n \"The shaman said that this would be straightforward. She must've made a mistake.\" I muttered, looking at the ragged and rotting wooden signs before me.\n\n \"Oh, really?\" My companion asked. \"Are you so sure?\"\n\n \"Evelyn has never guided me into a dream wrong before.\" I stopped, thinking about the conversation that my companion attempted to start with me before we'd entered the wood. \"What did you do?\"\n\n \"I? Whatever did I do here? This is YOUR dream, not mine.\" He said, hurt plain to see on his face. \"I simply came here to see what you'd do with it.\" He twirled a simple wooden cane, one that I was absolutely sure he didn't have before, and set his hands upon it as he looked at me with a cocked eyebrow.\n\n \"If you're not a part of my dream, then why are you in here with me?\" I asked, the anger bubbling up from deep in my gut. Something about this is becoming far too dangerous to have been a simple dream-walking exercise, and I'm beginning to think this person... this thing... knows more than it's letting on. As if he'd heard me talking aloud, he smiled and bowed slightly.\n\n \"Indeed I do, my very special friend. So, now comes the choice you must make; the one that I will ensure comes to fruition when you are ready to start.\" His eyes took on a mischievous glint that was literal. I'm not lying. There was a glint. And it was mischievous.\n\n \"Wait, what?\" I asked. Looking at the words to the signs, the one pointing to the right stated 'Nothing is left.' On the bottom of the wooden post held the other sign, saying 'Nothing is right' as it pointed toward the left road in the fork ahead of me. I looked at the two, then back at my companion. \"What are you?\"\n\n \"Ah, and now the real question. I was worried you'd never get to that.\" He said, the glint even more mischievous if that could be possible. \"I am the Trickster. Loki, Esu, a thousand names for a thousand words that hold a thousand thousand ways to think and dream and live and die. At your service, for now.\" He bowed again, and as I watched the glint fell out of his eye and landed on the top of his hands. Carefully tossing it into the air, he caught it with a swipe and held it out to me. \"If you'd like, I present a gift of a lie. It has value beyond words, and is equally worthless. Whatever you may need, it can become. And you will need that lie to pass this part of your test.\"\n\n \"I will not lie to myself, Trickster.\" I said, fuming. The sound of laughter, bubbly and unrestrained, came from the wooden post. Whirling to look, the Trickster laid himself over the top of the signs, guffawed and laughed and bellowed with a mighty humor. He looked up at me, tears running down his face.\n\n \"Oh my, you are so good at it already! This is delicious!\" He said, the bubbles of laughter creeping out between every few words or so. \"I didn't think you'd have it mastered so soon.\"\n\n \"Quit wasting my time here. I have to make a choice, and you're speaking like a lunatic.\" I looked down the left-hand path, and felt the lie in my hand grow heavier and heavier; thinking about it, I took a few steps in that direction and felt the lie become unbearably heavy. I struggled to get back to where I stood before, as the Trickster watched me intently, his blue eyes still moist with his humorous tears. The bastard probably thought this was funny, too.\n\n \"Just a little, my friend. Though, I wonder, what the right-hand path has in store for you. Hmm?\" He said, gesturing with the cane toward the opposite path. I started toward that path as well, and the lie began to feel warm; as I brought it nearer and nearer to the path, it's warmth began to radiate in waves. Thinking that this could be the way, I nearly took a serious step onto the path when I'd seen the grass and leaves withering underneath it's heat. I quickly backed away, then looked at the Trickster.\n\n \"What kind of game are you playing at, Trickster? I can't stay here forever, you know that.\" I asked.\n\n \"Well said. So, what will you do with that lie, then?\" He asked, tipping the bowler hat that I knew he wasn't wearing before. \"I don't imagine it's doing much good just sitting there unused.\" He pointed the cane at the lie in my hand; it sat there, glinting and being a very pretty little lie. I ignored it for the most part.\n\n \"There's no value in lies; all they do is cause pain and harm to others.\" I said. The Trickster nodded his head, clearly agreeing with what I'd said. I felt a bit of a smile come across my face, feeling very intelligent and capable.\n\n \"And yet, here you are, participating in a dream-walk with the hopes of undoing a lie you'd told yourself years ago. One that's protected you and shielded you from the most devastating facts of this universe and everything in it. So what makes a lie so important isn't what it's worth, now, does it?\" He said. He shouldn't know about that. How does he know about that?\n\n \"No.\" I replied, the smugness of my features blurred away into resignation. \"I'm done with lying. I don't want to lie anymore. It hasn't helped me with Morgan. It's killing my relationship, and I don't want to see it die.\" Suddenly, the lie fell out of my hands and tumbled to the ground, rolling toward the Trickster. Violently, he thrust his cane downward, shattering it with a thunderous pulse of raw force.\n\n \"Now, that! That, my dear, is beautiful truth. Real truth. And believe you me, I know a truth when I smell it.\" He said, his smile both sad and genuinely proud. As I thought about what I'd heard and said, I began to realize what his point here was. Why he was so interested in my dream-walk, and why I needed him here.\n\n \"Aw, that's very profound of you, but don't get muddly with emotion on me now. You've got a choice to make. Which do you choose?\" I needed no prompting for this, now that I understood. I ran for the left-hand path, knowing what the signs meant finally.\n\n Nothing is right, but it doesn't have to stay that way. Better than having nothing left but a lie to live with. As I began to awaken from my dream, I could hear the Trickster's voice coming to me as it all faded away.\n\n \"Nothing that needs a lie to live is really alive.\"",
"The last road curled like a snake's tongue through the desert, its divergence clear miles away. Sunset hung flat and silver when she finally reached the split. The Jeep's headlights blinked as they caught on a ghost in the dark. Breath caught in her throat and she eased the brake down.\n\nOne yard, two, three rolled by before she stopped.\n\nNot a ghost ahead. Not a corpse either. Just a sign with two arrows and two directions. But the paint was dripping like blood and her hand found the Browning at her hip all the same.\n\nThe leftward one said:\n\n Nothing is right.\n\nThe rightward said:\n\n Nothing is left.\n\nShe laughed until her throat hurt. Had it been better days, she would've sent a .45 through each board in the name of criticism. She drove around the sign instead, pressing forward into the dark of no direction.\n",
"I sometimes go there to relax, these days. It wouldn't be the kind of place you'd take people though.\n\nIt starts with a petrified forest, a place in which Mother Nature herself has resigned to The Sands of Time. The branches of the charred and blackened trees spear upwards, with their twigs and branchlets fleeing the nest. A thick mist envelops the thicket that my companion and I find ourselves in.\n\nWe carry only an ethanol-soaked torch, the flames licking for fuel without regret - their consumption as vivacious as the light and heat it emits. It fights away the mist with anger and frees us from the saturated smell of decomposition.\n\nUnderfoot, we walk through a dampened marshland. It's hard to tell really what we're walking on - it's damp though, even spongy. You'd call it moss, but it has to be rotting. Your foot would slightly sink into the soil, but the impression left behind recoils effectively. \n\n\"Why did you take me here?\"\n\nI can hear the mild fear and lack of colour in the question. I mean, I could've taken my companion to many different worlds, but this one ...I was weirdly enchanted with.\n\n\"I never got a chance to fully explore it. I never understood why this place came into existence.\"\n\nI make it sound so obvious.\n\n\"Yes, but why bring me along? Couldn't'cha explore it by yourself?\" \n\"It's just a place I know well. It doesn't have a name, and I don't have a map, but since returning I've had a few ideas about its origin. Come, it won't be dangerous... we have fire and bravery after all.\"\n\nMy companion and I trundle forward, nervously and carefully - we don't know what we'll find next. The petrified twigs underfoot crunch with a satisfying echo, but like ourselves, the sound has no reason to be here - we seek to find out our purpose in this landscape.\n\nThe light of the torch flickers on, the wind pulling the flame from the torch. It reflects poorly against the charred carbon of the wood. \n\n\"I think the sun is setting, or rising. I never could work it out.\" \n\nMy poor attempt at keeping my companion on-side with light hearted observations didn't seem to pay off. A few more minutes walking through, we find ourselves at the limit of what I've explored, but it's ever so slightly different this time around.\n\nAhead, lies a rope; woven and threaded, thick as your fist. You could imagine it being used on an old pirate ship of yesteryear. The boundary was stretched across two wooden staves in the ground, raised to just above ankle height. It protected a fresh addition to this spectacular but barren landscape.\n\n Nothing is left\n Nothing is right\n\nThe wording was branded on fresh wood, affixed to the remainder of memories of better days. \n\n\"Was this why you brought me here?\" \n\"Not really. This wasn't here last time.\" \n\nWe both stare at the sign with no clear intent.\n\n\"The last time I was taken here, I was doing pretty much what you're doing now. I was minding my own business, listening to some music before I was taken away... spirited away.\" \n\nMy tone mutates into a sage gatekeeper, a librarian of lore, sharing epic tales...\n\n\"I don't know why I came to this place, but I can tell you something - that sign a lie.\"\n\nI enforce the use of the words \"should\" and \"everything\" in my thoughts.\n\n\"Nothing should be left and everything is right.\"\n\n\"All I can tell you, my companion, is never to go back. Don't turn around, don't fear the unknown. Go left, or right - the purpose of the sign is to scare you into not making the next step of your journey.\"",
"I looked at the path on the left longingly and then at the path on the right in the same manner. They both looked completely identical. After thoroughly inspecting both of them I started noticing subtle differences. Shadows were peering out of the corner of my eyes whenever I was looking at the right path and I could catch quick glimpses of menacing eyes looking at me from the left path.\n\nUnable to remember the indications of the ragged traveler I met on this road earlier this day, and since nightfall was coming soon, I built my tent just by the intersection. I gathered some putrid wood from the entrances to the two paths and lighted a tiny bonfire. I could hear screeches coming from the right path as I did so.\n\nThe light's flame felt cold, intoxicating. I could feel both paths calling me with an insatiable hunger. Feeling unsafe, I went into my tent and hastily ate my last reserves of food. I felt hungrier, but I didn't dare leave the safety of my shelter to forage food from outside.\n\nI didn't manage to get a minute of sleep. The words \"Nothing is left\" and \"Nothing is right\" were floating through my mind continuously. Every once in a while I could hear a howls nearby, and the wind was whispering me to take one of the paths.\n\nI \"woke up\" when at sunrise, when the first glimmers of light made their way through the morning fog. Still groggy after a sleepless night, I packed my belongings and faced the signs again. Right - \"Nothing is left\" and Left - \"Nothing is right\". I looked around once more and made my decision.\n\n\"I will go through the middle.\" I said."
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/u/Poem_for_your_sprog, I'm looking at you...
But all submissions are welcome! And may the odds be ever in your favor!
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[WP] Write me a poem about a serial killer performing his final kill before retirement (or possible capture).
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"The girl woke up with a hazy groan, unaware she wasn't alone.\nIn the shadows I watched as she finally came to, my palms became sweaty as my excitement grew.\nShe was strapped to a table by her ankles and wrists, she struggled and thrashed, her hands balled into fists.\n \"There's no use in trying. It's futile, you see.\" I stepped from the shadows and chuckled with glee.\n I was wearing an apron stained with blood, my face obscured by a mask and a hood.\n The girl's eyes widened with horror, then shed tears of sorrow, as she quickly realised there would be no tomorrow.\n I taped up her mouth to prevent her from screaming, I pinched her to remind her that she wasn't dreaming.\n On a small table I'd laid out my tools, implements I'd used to cut up previous fools.\n \"This won't hurt a bit.\" I told her the lie, then I picked up a scalpel and cut out her eye.\n I cleaned up my trophy, as she thrashed around in pain, and laughed to myself like I was utterly insane.\n now for the best part, I can't control my beating heart I run the blade across her flesh, not knowing where to start.\n The blade leaves red trails in it's wake, I'd chop her to pieces and drive to the lake.\n This girl is the seventh, I don't like to gloat, I walked to her head and then slashed her throat.\n I watch the life drain from her remaining eye, and when she is gone that's when I cry.\n I can't control it, it's a sickness in me, how I need to hurt women to feel like I'm free.\n I pick up the hatchet and hack until late, and then I'll look for victim eight.",
" I slide the blade across her skin,\n listen to her gasp,\n never to breathe again.\n A solemn sigh escapes my lips\n as I wipe the bloody blade\n across my denim hips.\n I draw my hand across her pretty face,\n still warm,\n soft,\n lingering in my last embrace.\n I loved her from the moment I saw her,\n bright,\n spring in her step,\n wandering philanderer.\n Her betrayal matched that of all her lovers,\n who died the same,\n a band of brothers.\n One last kiss on her left cheek,\n the layer between our skin stealing the sentiment,\n making it cheap.\n As I roll her into the grave so lovingly dug,\n red, blue, white lights from above.\n They say to have loved is to have lost.\n This is what I've done,\n despite the cost.\n Now I pay my debt in spades,\n never to return,\n live free,\n enjoy my days.\n I've justified my kills,\n every single one.\n I have a sense of peace, \n now that they're done.\n Now that I've finished,\n the law will soon embrace\n my once trusting hands\n in shackles as cold as\n her dead face.\n edit: I are no good at formatting.",
"A while ago, there was nothing but thrill\n\nWith each kidnap and kill,\n\nBut the day has finally come,\n\nWhere I look in the mirror and ask what I've become.\n\n\nAs I drive my cold blade\n\nInto her heart and as I flayed,\n\nI prayed to my God up high\n\nThat I could have an end to my big lie. \n\n\nFor 16 years my wife knew nothing,\n\nOur bond brought together by a ring. \n\nBut her end must have come one day,\n\nAnd as I drove my blade into her, I knew she was my last prey. \n\n\nAs I stand over the body of my dead wife,\n\nI look at what has become of my life. \n\nI take a gun, and place it against my brain. \n\nI hope for my end to be painful, just as I had inflicted pain. \n\n\nThe sirens come too late. \n\nI have finally sealed my fate. \n\n\n"
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Feel free to write from any perspective, not necessarily the recently deceased's.
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[WP] After you die, you are "reincarnated" in the imagination of a child.
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"Loneliness.\n\nIs this the feeling of death?\n\nOnce, I was a brave soldier, fighting the war in the air. \n\nThen I was spiralling down, deep into the darkness of death.\n\nWhen you have 70 years in eternal darkness, you have lots of time to get philosophical.\n\nThen it was bright, and I was looking out a child's eyes. Kids were standing over him, and suddenly, a swift kick to his back.\n\nI felt his pain.\n\nAnd for once , I took control. ",
"As it does for all, the end came for me. I looked out on my friends and relatives all gathered before me one last time. Then my eyes closed and suddenly all that was left of me on Earth was my legacy.\nAs for me, I was flying. It only took a second's looking around to realize \"So there actually is a tunnel\" before I'd reached the proverbial light at the end. \n\nAfter what seemed like forever and an instant at once in the light, it started to dissipate around me into an actual place. To be more precise, a vaguely familiar-looking control room with a gigantic window at the front. But the light was still there.\n\nI looked at my reflection in the window and then realized \"Oh, I'm the light!\". I looked almost the same as I could still sorta remember looking except every part of me, hair, skin, clothes etc. was glowing golden. And that was what my heart felt as well; this glowing golden euphoria that didn't diminish as I looked out the window at what appeared to be a normal child's room; a girl from the looks of the photos on her dresser.\n\nIt was as I was looking that the small figure at the control table who I hadn't noticed before turned around and noticed me. She was shorter and slimmer than me with light purple skin and curly hair just a shade darker. She wore a simple white dress with lavender flowers and was barefoot. \n\n\"Y-you m-must b-be J-Joy\" she stammered in a small quavery voice. \"W-welcome t-to y-your n-new w-world. W-welcome t-to A-Abby\".\n\nNow things started to come back to me. Abby must be the girl in the pictures and if I was Joy, then the fleeting wisps I still had of my old memories told me the little purple slip of a girl who I just couldn't help but want to hug was Fear.\n\nI had only the slightest recollection of how this worked but one thing troubled me to a level that seemed anathema to my new identity as Joy. Abby looked about 8-10-ish in the pictures so what kind of life could such a normal-seeming little girl lead that she had only Fear to guide her up until now?\n\nOne thing was for sure, whatever this meant, I was going to have my work cut out for me.",
"I closed my eyes for the last time expecting a world of nothingness. The car came so quickly, the last sound I heard must have been my skull hitting the asphalt. \n\nI open my eyes and I’m a cowboy-cyborg hybrid. I don’t know what this means, did I survive? Am I a part of some new experiment? \n\n“Hello? Is anyone here?” I let out, looking for an answer to what the hell is going on. That’s when I see the scientist walking from the smoke.\n\n“Yesterday you battled the Goblins, today you’re…you’re new. Okay, hi, I’m Travis and this is Frederick!” The boy points to a stuffed frog wearing a white lab coat. “I think Frederick must have made you today, is that what you did Frederick?”\n\n“Sure, why the hell not,” Frederick answered in a defeated voice. “Welcome to hell, Cowboy.”\n\n“Mom says we’re not allowed to curse!” Travis shouted, it’s only now that I realize that this is just a child. He must be only six or seven.\n\n“Well, mom is passed out on the couch again, so I don’t think she gives a shit.” Frederick says as he’s walking towards me to shake my hand.\n\n“She needs her nap after her medicines from the freezer. We have to be quiet or she’ll get angry again.” Travis says, with his voice stammering a bit.\n\n“My bad, I forgot your mom is a bitch,” Frederick says as he finally reaches me and offers me his hand. “Welcome to the show, Cowboy. So tell me, what’s the last thing you remember?”\n\nI take another look around. We’re in the kitchen of a small smoke filled apartment. “What is this? Why am I here?”\n\nFrederick is now standing in front of me, making serious eye contact. His eyes are hard plastic, “Well…I can tell you right now that you’re dead. Because the last thing I remember before I was this frog was telling the guy on the other side of the counter to just take the money and leave. Turned out he did that anyways, but had to shoot me too. So now I’m a goddamn stuffed frog.”\n\n“No, that can’t be right; I have to be in the hospital right now. I’m in a coma right now, having a weird dream or something.”\n\n“Nope, you’re dead. Travis here is something else though, he’ll love you and you’ll…well, you’ll like him. From what I gathered, we’re in a kid’s imagination.”\n\n“Welcome, Robot Cowboy!” Travis shouts excitedly, “We’re going to go play Cowboys and Native Americans, Daddy says I’m not allowed to say Indian.” \n\n“Can’t knock him for being political correct, but yeah, just wait for Emily.” Frederick says to me, patting Travis on the back.\n\n“Emily? This isn’t Travis’ imagination?”\n\n“Nah, Travis is a part of this *heaven* too. That woman over there is his mother though, and Emily’s too. Drunk bitch fell asleep smoking and only Emily and her dad survived. So now those two live here because she doesn’t want to forget them.”\n\nAt that moment Emily comes running over and grabs Travis and hugs him, “Can we go see mommy?”\n\n“We can’t right now, she’s sleeping again, see?” Travis points to the couch surrounded by smoke.\n\n“I don’t want to see her anyways,” Emily says in a broken voice and turns towards me, “Wow! Welcome RoboCowboy!”",
"“That’s it, just one at a time…”\n\nTommy fumbles with his awkward fingers.\n\n“Keep the rest of it pinned, watch carefully…”\n\nTommy takes the index finger of his left hand and carefully pins down a set of legs.\n\n“Okay good, now take your right hand…”\n\nThe cellar spider struggles under the weight of a giant hand. It grasps desperately with its remaining limbs, scrambling to escape.\n\n“Good, just the back leg, now…”\n\nTommy reaches and plucks out a hind leg.\n\n“And the next… easy does it…”\n\nPluck. Pluck. Pluck.\n\n“Okay, and the others… just leave one.”\n\nPluck. Pluck. Pluck.\n\n“Okay let’s see what it does.”\n\nThe spider is twitching, dazed and confused by its sudden lack of mobility. A single leg flails against the ground, unsure of how best to move.\n\nTommy observes the spider. It’s pitiful, how small and weak it is.\n\n“Are you bored yet?”\n\nTommy shakes his head.\n\n“Okay, let’s watch a little bit longer.”\n\nTommy squats there, crouched upon his haunches, hugging his legs, watching the little spider struggling to escape.\n\n“How do you think a cat would react?”\n\nTommy shakes his head.\n\n“Want to find out?”\n\nTommy nods.\n"
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[WP] You are dangerous. Not because you kill, but because you don't.
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"Atlantic Ocean- 1692\n\nA child with long, snowy white hair stared at the fleet. The group of merchant ships stuck roughly together as she approached. Crewmate's cries could be heard up the chain of command; from the big, billowing masts of the \"Lavender Crown\" to the tiny schooner affectionately called \"Tugg's Boat,\" there was panic.\n\n\"Captain! The wee lass is arrivin' up starboard!\" \n\n\"Fetch a tarp! Dun let 'er fall!\"\n\n\"Getcher lazy ass up, now! PULL!\"\n\nA spare sail, the only fabric nearby, stretched out as the figure screamed forward. Black boots in varying states tromped along a middle vessel, the \"Leaf Sprig.\" This particular ship appeared to be her main target.\n\n\"PUT YER BACK INTO-\"\n\nThe rally cry was cut off as she landed noisily. Witchcraft brewed in her tiny eyes.\n\nThe first mate and the skipper standing next to him collapsed in a gelatinous heap. Parts of their bodies moved in ways no human bones would allow. \n\nShe giggled.\n\nWithin an instant the rest of the ship's crew followed, melting like butter in a pan.\n\nThe procession vanished along with them into the cruel ocean's noisy froth spray.\n\n---\n\nMassachusetts Coast- 1890\n\nAs The Factory churned its smog in the distance, Howard and Mary sat on the beachfront, enjoying the odd warble of the gulls and the salty tang of mist. On a hot summers day like this it was crucial to find a chilled spot to rest- and under the shade of her parasol as they smooched was perfect.\n\nLovingly they gazed into each other's eyes. Perhaps here, so public and open to God, was the wrong place to show their affections... Though not a soul was around. Most were working: selling wares, running the rails, keeping the mills. A choice few, like he and she, were taking a holiday from more inland country, and even less were couples. \n\nThey were together, alone...\n\nUntil a little face, like that of a mouse, almost, crept behind a rock to watch.\n\nMary startled herself and blushed vividly before the wisp of a child vanished. Howard turned, nearly losing his cap as a gust of wind appeared.\n\nHe called out to the child, telling it to shoo. Mary tugged upon his waistcoat, urging him away.\n\nA crackle, a flash-!\n\nElectrical arcs flowed from the rock's angles, coursing to the ground, the sea, and the parasol.\n\nThe clinking and clanging of gears could be heard, they say, for miles, but the screams could not.\n\n---\n\nTopeka, Kansas- 2037\n\nTwo women in business pantsuits were chatting over coffee- about the notions about a possible merger, the dumb secretary, the meeting they were to attend later-\n\nAnd then suddenly about the strange child across the hall, staring at them.\n\n\"How did a little brat like that sneak through security?\"\n\n\"I should call somebody-\"\n\nThe child was suddenly in front of them, as though she had teleported- though that was preposterous. Only non-metal packages could teleport, according to their local post office. The white hair streamed out behind her, trailing onto the floor well past her feet. A blue, translucent visor- an Apple viSion- shielded her pale brow, and she was cloaked in a bag-like, canvass dress. The garment was worn in, shredded in places, but smelled of earth despite its pure alabaster color.\n\nThe ladies were speechless.\n\nFor the rest of their lives.\n\n---\n\nKilani Auchtop's Basement- 2037, one day later\n\n\"I swear, these disappearances are connected,\" she screeched at her older brother. \"If you'd just let me-\"\n\n\"It's a freak accident, those happen all the time, now just shut the fuck up.\"\n\n\"Language!\"\n\n\"Fuck you!\"\n\n\"Kilani\" stormed away from her \"brother,\" pouting.\n\n\"Fuck you too,\" she whispered, regretting it somewhere deep down.\n\nShe ran into her room and grabbed her things, brushing her black hair. Her disguise, a wan, Asian face, melted. Her pallid, freckleless skin transitioned seamlessly, while the rest of her body took a few seconds to catch up. Then her hair's true color slithered down.\n\nWhat's the fun of being an immortal, she mused, if you still have to put up with idiots?\n\nThe mattress rattled, collapsing into bones. The hardwood absorbed the blow, and with her powers, it did not make a noise.\n\nShe levitated the bones, arranging them in different patterns for fun. Then she shot through the window, the objects trailing behind.\n\nOne for every victim.\n\nAs usual, some of them tried to scream.\n\nShe shut them up.\n\n",
"It kept catching my attention, the bright, lime-green flash of it reflecting every time I passed a window or a mirror. Everyone glanced at it when they saw me-- they averted their gaze immediately after, but it was obvious they looked at it. I could constantly feel the stupid arm band squeezing my bicep, cinched over my jacket sleeve with elastic bands so tight I had to keep checking my fingers to make sure my circulation wasn't cut. My arm was itching like crazy and I could begin to feel the moist sweat sticking to the shirt underneath where it was gripping me. As if it wasn't bad enough, they decided it was worth it \"for general safety precautions\" to announce my condition to the entire office on top of the already obnoxious advertisement. They warned me about it in the interview... but still, it was more than was necessary.\n\n*Click. Click. Whiiuurrrh.*\n\nThe machines behind the squared, foam ceiling above our cubicles snapped into place as the voice began to crackle into focus. \n\n\"Yes. Yes. Yes. Testing 1.... 2.... Ok, we're good. Attention all staff!\" We could hear the chair squeak against a linoleum floor beside the microphone as the intern cleared the seat for the HR manager to begin his announcement.\n\nWith a gurgle, he cleared his throat and began. \"Here at ASPD inc, we pride ourselves on maintaining a fair, balanced, and diverse work environment for everyone.\" I could hear a woman somewhere in the office clearing her throat and begin to mumble something, but the voice from above roared over her again. \"As pioneers in new-age hiring practices, we strive to never allow derogatory beliefs to shape our hiring practices, and as such we look for candidates from all walks of life to help fill our team.\"\n\nThere was a small crinkling sound, like a sheet of paper being turned over. \"Without naming names, we've been one of the first large-to-medium organization to hire repeat spouses, critics of gun-rights, and now, with great pride, our first pacifist.\" He took a moment to gather his thoughts, and that brief silence quickly became filled with murmurs. \n\n\"A pacifist?\" one voice whispered. \"The green-band guy?\"\n\n\"Like, a life-time pacifist, or a reform?\" \n\nThe ceiling ached with a screech as the voice came back. \"I'm certain you are all familiar with the Catharsis Theory... that we all need to let off steam once in a while... to... well, we all have our ways. I realize some of you may have concerns that having a resident without that release might be... dangerous... a time bomb, even.\" \n\nThe murmurs rose up again, louder this time, more bold. Perhaps it was a mistake to even apply here, but there are already so few places willing to accept someone like me.\n\n\"I realize your concerns, and we take them all seriously, which is why I'd like to stress the importance of a community. That's what we all are, after all. A big community, that looks after each other... keeps an eye on each other to make sure no one steps out of line. Feel free to report any incidents to us. That is all.\"\n\nWith that, the speakers in the ceiling shifted back off with a click and a whirr, and the noise from above faded away as the chatter in the office sparked up. I could hear bits and pieces amongst the waves of noise. \n\n*\"A psycho?\"*\n\n*\"That's why I always carry my Winchester.\"*\n\nGetting a bit drunk with embarrassment, I stood up on my desk without thinking about it and cleared my throat above the sea, of 4-foot walls, white shirts, hair bows and ties. \n\n\"Hello, everyone,\" I croaked, trying my best not to let my voice break. I could feel a bead of sweat trailing down my cheek, and watched as hundreds of eyes stared judgmentally at it working it's way down my chin.\n\nIt was so quiet I could probably hear the hum of the kitchen fridge from where I was. Two women with headsets started talking quietly to each other a few spaces away. \n\n\"Seems nervous,\" one said. \"Looks like he's up to something.\"\n\n\"I think it's anxiety, that kind of stress has to build up.\"\n\nI did my best to talk over them, to mute the chatter so it wouldn't spread. \"My name is Greg, and I realize you all might have some worries about my... condishieeon.\" \n\nCrap, my voice broke. \n\nI tugged at my arm band-- it was starting to feel like it was choking my arm-- and felt the sweat that soaked into it stick to my fingers. Wiping it quickly on the side of my pants I opened my mouth again, like an idiot. \n\n\"I just want you all to know that I'm perfectly fine and not going to kill you all!\" Shit.\n\nAs I stumbled off my desk and rushed to hide behind my little cubicle wall, I could see the hundreds of dark black eyes growing cold, squinting at me. At least four or five yellow report forms were open at computers at various desks. \n\nSomeone was cleaning a pistol, slapping various pieces against their desk, loud enough for me to hear.\n\n*Way to go, Greg.* \n\nI sunk into my seat, laying my chin against the keyboard and creaking my head up to look at the screen. I could see the small red counter of messages from HR building up in the corner of my screen. \n\n*Now it's you versus a room full of killers... again.*\n",
"\"*Pollock! My office! Now!*\"\n\nAs far as words to start the day with, these were not what I'd been wanting to hear. That hasn't stopped them from being woefully common for as long as I can remember.\n\n\"What did I do this time, boss?\" I ask as I walk in, casually leaning against the door frame.\n\n\"Nothing!\"\n\n\"Good news then, so I'm not in troub--\"\n\n\"Nothing is the problem, Pollock. You know what we do here?\"\n\n\"Ensure the safety of the population. Enforce the law. Prevent crime.\"\n\n\"And..?\"\n\n\"...Eat doughnuts? Sorry boss if you want me to bring them in tomorrow I'm happy to, I just always assumed that Pinkman did it because he was a suck up.\"\n\n\"I don't want you to buy doughnuts, Pollock. That's not what I was talking about! Jeez, if the people up at HQ knew I had to deal with crap like this every day, maybe I'd get a raise and finally be able to take my wife on that cruise she's been asking about. \n\n\"No, Pollock. 'Nothing' is the problem. The Board for the Overview of Population Sanctions (BOPS) has tasked us to ensure the survival of the human race. You were at the briefing?\"\n\n\"Of course, sir.\"\n\n\"Well, you better get yourself on board. It doesn't look pretty. Resources are dwindling. At this rate, we're consuming 20% more resources than we can reproduce. If this keeps going we'll face mass-starvation, as well as a shortage of other essential goods within a decade or two.\"\n\n\"Yes, sir. But--\"\n\n\"But? But!? What word do we not say around here, Pollock? You know damn well that I could have charges raised and you kicked off of service just for uttering that word! Now get to work!\"\n\n*****\n\nI sighed as I left the office. *How did we get ourselves in this position?* Captain Moretti was right, of course. Resources were scarce; even the independent studies performed countless times by agencies outside the influence of the Elites agreed, in twenty years if the human race didn't reduce in population by 30% or more, we would lose sustainability and put the entire population at risk.\n\nWhat he *didn't* say, or seem to care about, is that the lists we were given for population \"sanitization\" were drafted by the Elites, and the only Elites who ever showed up on it were the black sheep who none of the rest wanted around. The news was constantly abuzz with the conspiracy, which nobody could prove. Supposedly, the names were drawn by lot. We watched it on TV, just like the lottery: whose number would be picked. Of course, they only picked the number out of the machine. Then they cross referenced the number with a list. Sure enough, each time the number came up, it was one of us. The \"Normals.\"\n\nEvery so often an Elite would be selected. The artist nephew who associated too often with the Normals. The entrepreneurial debutante whose personal ambition to sing in Cirque de Soleil embarassed her pompous mother and father. The talented engineer, gone for months on a fishing expedition, only to come home and find his family had written him off and didn't want to deal with the \"complications\" of regaining his birthright. The craftsman, always working with his hands. I actually pulled that case... he was supposed to meet with a delta P accident during an underwater welding experiment.\n\nHe didn't, though I can't speak to the others. See, BOPS (and my agency) want everything to look like an accident. It reduces our liability in case the families seek remedy for the deceased. *Yes, their number was drawn, but look! That accident just happened. It wasn't us. We just predicted the outcome. Everyone knew that someone had to die. Everyone agreed this was the most fair way. We're sorry for your loss.*\n\nPeople were understandably upset. But, predictably, those who weren't directly affected went on ignoring the world around them, accepting the changes, the losses, the danger they were surrounded by placidly, keeping their heads down and hoping they wouldn't be the next ones to have to start caring. Because by then, it would be too late.\n\nOf course, the thing about accidents is they can go awry. Making something look like an accident involves a certain amount of risk... of failure. Engineering accidents takes a certain finesse, and it was relatively common for it to take 2-3 attempts or more before someone's number was punched. Pardon the pun.\n\nBy now it was increasingly common for people experiencing potentially fatal accidents to go into hiding. Disappearing somewhere that police forces like ours were having a very hard time tracking down. We tried, of course. But like the UN found out during their war against Iraq and Afghanistan, small groups were hard to track down. Of course, that group was growing...\n\nWhich is why, about a year ago, when I found one, I made no arrests, arranged no accidents, and left it off my report. Another hole in the ground, empty but for rats, misinformation handed off by some crazy hoping for the information reward. That's what my report said. And for good measure, I made sure they moved... in case someone else went looking, trying to verify my work. Sometimes they did that, when accidents didn't go off as planned. Checked up on you, made sure you were doing your job. So I had to be careful. So far, it had been going well.\n\nBut today, getting called in like that, questioned... someone was suspecting something, and tipping me off like that was the worst move they could make. See, the problem with the Elites is they didn't produce anything. They consumed, and though they made up less than 20% of the population, they consumed 80% of the resources. The vast majority of the risk the human population faces due to resource scarcity is fielded by the Elites. Take that 20% out, and the other 80% could survive and prosper for much longer. \n\nBut they don't want anyone to figure that out. They keep them scared of whether they'll be the next to die, too scared to think. Too scared to resist. They want me to be dangerous to my people, by killing. But I'm dangerous to them, because I don't. Instead, I think. I help. I connect the people I'm supposed to kill with organizations dedicated to preserving life, finding solutions to sustain resources for longer, and funding projects to bring them about. \n\nInstead of living in caves or rat-filled hovels, these people are working in a growing network of individuals who have cast off the blindness of fear and oppression, and seek an answer that means that most of them get to live, and those creating the largest segment of the problem get to be the first to die.\n\nLast week, one of our projects bore fruit. We changed the name, DNA and fingerprints of one of our protected targets. Flushed his system, restructured his face. Propped him up with enough financial backing and electronically-signed legitimacy to be accepted among groups of the Elites. Got him fast-tracked into BOPS, straight into the IT section... incidentally, the section with the most influence over the computers which manage the system which selects the targets.\n\nLets see how the Elites like it when their names show up.",
"By rights the guns of the fleet should have crushed this port's resistance long ago. \n\nThe port's own ships are long since sunk, but each day a ragged army of defenders rises up out of the marshland that surrounds the docks. Each skycraft, painstakingly but hurriedly crafted from wood and repurposed sailcloth, creaks upwards from the efforts of the villagers that haul its wings back and forth in an approximation of life. \n\nThe battle takes place a long way offshore. From the land, the action is soon obscured by billowing clouds of smoke. From time to time a shell comes whistling off the sea to explode harmlessly in the mud. Fires from the few that land in the village are soon extinguished by volunteer crews with buckets of golden sand from the pockmarked beach.\n\nFar more demoralizing to the defenders are the damaged skycraft, fluttering home with half their wings shot away. Those that make it as far as the shoreline land heavily, running their frames deep into the sand and mud. The others pitch into the sea, deceptively deep and cold even a few metres from the shore.\n\nAt night the lowering tide risks running the invading fleet aground. They retreat out of the mouth of the bay, to a distance where even the long guns cannot reach the village. The armies rest. \n\nThat's when my work begins. I am not concerned with the men that made it home; a few will be injured, but bone mends as easily as the wood of the skycraft. Instead, I go for the deeper crashes. After each day's battle the bay is choked with the frames of flying machines, the pilots drowned in their straps. I flick my gills in irritation and move from one to the next, breathing the sea's air into their lungs.\n\nSoon they breathe again. A few always writhe in immediate panic at finding themselves returned to life, but I sing to them until they are calm. \n\nThen I remind them of their homes, and direct them there. The wings of their craft cleave water as well as air, and they soon surface and are gone, flying back to their homes under cover of darkness. \n\nThe gift of sea-breath comes with many conditions attached. The most important is that once their heads leave water they forget forever what they learned beneath. I have brought the same men back from the depths a dozen times over, and each time they startle like the first. \n\nI have no great love of the men on the boats, who idly throw harpoons at my sisters, and I know that their puzzlement grows with their casualties every morning that the village still has skycraft to fight with. They are running low on shot and powder.\n\nTo attack them openly would be suicide, no matter how many I killed. But I can raise the villagers from the deep, over and over. I don't kill, but I am all the more dangerous for that."
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[WP] Take the most horrific/traumatic/saddest event in your life, turn it into a comedy.
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"My feet padded on the soft carpet that unbeknownst to me betrayed my mother and fathers current financial status. I was called into their room as was my sister and we tumbled in as we did everywhere. The metal bed frame twisted toward the ceiling that my sister and I thought we would never be able to reach. Her being four and me being five, the world was a place for big people and would never bend to the will of a child. \n\nOur parents sat Indian-style on the floor facing each other two feet apart. Their laps were basically luxury sofas just for my sister and I. We plopped down violently in their laps: me in my mothers and my sister in my fathers. If I were to make up the arrangement of our bodies for the sake of foreshadowing I would have been between my parents in a wooden contraption that would stretch me in equal parts toward my parents with my sister sitting on my slowly hardening pale stomach with an oblivious look on her face.\n\nWe didn't know what the word divorce meant but the detective skills of children are inconsistent at best. Seconds before I jumped to the ground from the top of a plastic slide at the age of four, my mother had told me to do the very opposite yet I was still shocked when I rose with a broken arm and tears rolling down my cheek. Yet somehow I knew the word divorce was no bueño.\n\nBut what's funny is that what may have seemed bad then is what was best and what feels like the best thing now may not be for the best… well hell, this didn't turn out funny at all.",
"The collective thoughts of the universe whizzed in the flesh shells' atmosphere. The blood, skin, guts and gore that occupied this space were simply vessels for humankind's collective consciousness, separated by a thin veil of physical distance, language, culture and race. Imperceptible to the beings were vibrations of muscle fiber inside of a man's hands, determining when he'd press A, X, B, Y, LT, RT, RB, LB, etc. etc.. A screen depicted a world which was of a higher resolution than that which humans saw themselves -- an HD^HD I suppose you could call it.\n\nThe succession was as follows:\n\n*Human\n\n*An individual thought\n\n*A single cell from the tissue of the man's hands\n\n*The actions that were depicted on the HD^HD screen before him\n\n\nWithin the screen of the HD^HD monitor is another screen, that of an AOC Envision Series 1080^2p 22\" monitor.\n\n\nThat screen is the very screen which I am typing on.\n\n\nFirst I'm going to invite all my friends to a party, and while they're not looking, I'm going to 3D print a wall behind us. While they're pinned in between the wall and the counter, fires from the fireplaces will grow hotter and hotter. I print more and more fuel for the fire.\n\n\nWe'll all burn together.\n\n\nSome instructions from my head tell me to look at my contacts section and I'm compelled to obey.\n\n\n",
"My family is being dragged to another LDS church party. Instead of playing Halo I have to hangout with kids talking about Anti-Nephi-Lehies while the adults divvy jobs for the cannery. The only thing I looked forward to were the funeral potatoes during dinner. That was until I saw they were giving horse rides. I would finally get to reenact Link's adoption of Epona. Unfortunately, I had to wait for my Mom to take my brother Matt and his friend on a ride first. That didn't seem fair. I wasn't going to let anyone else cut in front of me so I decided to walk next to them as they rode. I can't remember how it started . . . anyway, the horses suddenly started galloping at full speed. It was awesome to see them race over to the other side of the hill. I was cheering until I realized I would've gotten to ride in the race if Matt didn't cut in front of me. I chased after them so I could get my turn already.\n\nWhen I got to the other side of the hill I noticed that everyone from the party was crowded around my Mom's horse. At first glance I thought they were congratulating her on winning the race. Once I got closer I saw my Mom was lying on the ground with a bunch of men kneeling beside her in prayer. Great, one more cult-like thing to add to the LDS activity-list. Well, apparently their prayers were answered because pretty soon a helicopter came in to pick up my Mom. That day was awful. Not only would my Mom die, but I had now missed out on both horse and helicopter rides.",
"\"What the fuck is this shit?\" the doctor asked my mother moments after I entered this world screaming, naked, and ugly.\n\nWhen neither my mother nor any of the nurses assisting in the delivery could identify what the aforementioned \"shit\" was, every other doctor and nurse on staff was called in - and one by one, they scratched their heads, asking, \"What the fuck *is* this shit?\" Everyone was perplexed, not a single medical professional among them aware of the answer.\n\nAnd then they remembered they were delivering a baby and not taking an elaborate stool sample.\n\nMy birth, ladies and gentlemen.\n\n(Twist ending: I was still flushed down the toilet, for I was a survived abortion.)"
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[WP] In the year 2055, people have become so apathetic they no longer care to experience complex emotion. Emotions are now mass distributed in the form of medicinal capsules. You just got your first bottle, complete with all emotions.
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"Dear mom\n\nKnow that I write this to tell you that I'm safe, I'm sorry, and I love you with all my heart.\n\nBy the time you get this, I'll be out of the country with good company. I'll be headed towards the central hub of America, I have a future there. Mother, I hope you find it in your heart to forgive me someday, but I know what I need to do. I'm not going to be gone forever, and I'll have money and you'll have an easier life when I come back home.\n\nSigned, your son Venerable. Stop.\n\nDear Mother,\n\nI'm making it big, here in the cities. People like me, I'm a big cog wheel within a small gear box, they say. The people here, they love me. They need me. They're willing to pay good money to keep me here. Mom, I know it's a hard life up here, but I can't imagine a better life for you or dad with no money. Mom, if you come up to live with me, I promise you a beautiful house and everything you've ever wanted.\n\nSigned, your son Venerable. Stop.\n\nDear Mrs. Noble,\n\nIt seems to me that you lost hope for your son. It doesn't matter when you lost hope in me, it just hurts too much to care about you these days. I tried to offer you a better life, but you won't respond to me anymore. I still have hope for you, Mom, and I still promise that house for you. You just have to say sorry for the pain you've cause me. I moved to a different house since the last time you wrote me a letter, but I'm not giving you my address. Just send it to the post office, I'll be checking in everyday, maybe your next letter will be detailing when you're moving up to me.\n\nSigned for the last time, your son Venerable. Stop.",
"I remember it like it was yesterday. The first time Happiness was introduced to me, and a wide variety of other emotions. It was my upbringing and my downfall.\n\nI was only a stupid kid, but the guy insisted I take it. See the world for what it really is. He held out his hand, said it was reality in a pill. It was labeled as Happy, with a yellow smiling face on the opposite side. I took it. As I put it in my mouth, he handed me a bottle of water to wash it down.\n\nWater. It was bland, it tasted disgusting, I almost threw up but the guy looked as if he'd hold my mouth shut if I tried. I stayed strong, for him. After a minute or so, the aftertaste of the water was delicious, it was incredible. The man, previously wearing a grim frown, now wears a face of joy, as if he was happy because of what I did. It felt amazing, for the few moments he stayed.\n\nHe left in a hurry, but he left a bag with my name on it. I don't remember giving him my name, but I wasn't going to leave without the bag. I remember the trip I had on the way home, it was fantastic. Life at home was even better. Mother noticed I had a completely different mood, and told me I was excited to finish my homework.\n\nThe next couple of weeks, I found that my supply wasn't going to last forever, so I took the weekend to find that guy again, see if he was stocked up. I couldn't find him, but I found the next best thing. It seemed to me his buddy knew about me, and offered better stuff, but for a price this time. I told him I'll pay him the premium next weekend, when I have the funds to do so. I started my trek back home, but I noticed this guy was following me. He seemed like he had to sell me what he had today, or something was going to happen. Either way, I was prepared to defend myself from him.\n\nBefore anything happened, he was out of sight and out of mind. I spent the next couple of weeks finding new dealers, new streets, and a means of making money of my own working these streets. Mother was worried about me, despite the fake proof I provided about the chess club I joined. One day after school, I think mother followed me from the shadows. I confronted her in a different alleyway, so that she wouldn't know where to find me the next time. I gave her the same thing I was given on my first time. She threw it away and left for home.\n\nYears after my first encounter, the \"emotion\" drugs are finally accepted into the government systems, and are being mass produced and distributed. Many of the original street dealers were thrown out of business, and were forced to find new ways to make their meal cards. However, few were recruited by the hospitals and drug stores to start dealing out these emotions. If no one would go to the store to buy their emotions, we were payed to go door to door and distribute by hand.\n\nAll my old friends succumb to withdrawing, there were hundreds of us, dealing out and keeping half the profit the government was making. Now a days, there's only a handful of us in the cities. We worked day and night, making it big. The government told us that we were the backbone of what is left of America, that we were what kept the people from dying out, that we were keeping the American dream alive.\n\nToday, 14:28, July 14th of the year 2055, I finally resign and collect my first bottle of prescribed emotions. Good luck out there, stay safe.\n\nOh, and /u/Venerable + /u/Daikiryomi. Don't OD on Happy. It's a terrible way to go, it destroys your skin structure and you die of dehydration. If anything, OD on Bliss. It's much faster, and the effects of the emotion don't stop until you ultimately die."
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To clarify better: that pesky 12 year old that wrote "penis" on the door of a toilet stall might be an actual 12 year old, or an immature 25 year old
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[WP] You live in a world where looks aren't determined by physical age, but by the age on which you act
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"Could you imagine if everyone matured at the same time? It's been on my mind for the past couple days, something I've been doing to entertain myself in between these silly blind dates. One of my younger friends recommended I do this, so I'm not sure if I've got a little more hair than usual today. But anyway, I'm thinking about writing about it. I live alone, so I don't have much to do to keep myself occupied. Hm? No, no kids, I've never been married before. I know, it's sort of strange, but it's sort of comfortable this way. That's what got me thinking. On the one hand, I at least have an easy time finding someone who thinks similarly to me, but it's difficult for me to connect with someone who's had a lot more life experience than me. No, I don't mind. My hair started falling out fifteen years ago. Oh, right, that would've been age... ten. Yeah, I know. But imagine what it would be like. Everyone who looked like you might be one hundred geras mature, or twelve. You'd be fertile for a few years, then sex would just stop. Don't you think it'd be funny? I know people who have been fertile for decades, I can't imagine how heart broken they'd be if they simply couldn't have sex. Never understood the appeal myself, though. Yes, well - I suppose. Sometimes. Sure. Anyway... what's been on your mind? ",
"I looked in the mirror for the seventh time that day. I'd been alive for 19 years now. My forehead itched, i scratched it. A slight look of confusion came across my face as i realized I had just gone over a wrinkle. It felt weird, it wasn't there yesterday.\n\nI'd spent so long doing what all the other kids were doing. I played video games, i went out and played sports and shouted 'your mom' jokes at all my other friends, and the whole time I had the look of a young, fresh-faced teenager (minus a little acne, of course.) My mother was sick of me. My father was sick of me. \"You're almost 20! Get out there and get a job, you're not living here forever!\" they said. I didn't care, I was having the time of my life and living rent-free, doing whatever I wanted.\n\nThen, they called someone special. Someone who was going to come and talk to me. A psychologist of some sorts, i suppose. He came to my house, and sat down on the couch next to me as my parents watched nervously. He gave me a long, drawn out look of curiosity, like he was judging me. I just wanted to go and play my goddamn video games.\n\nHe began talking to me, asking me questions about my life. I felt strangely calm, calm enough to talk to him and open up a little. The corners of his lips turned ever so slightly into a smile as I spoke back to him. I spoke about my past, my ideas for the future, and how much I currently enjoyed my life. The man explained how much more fun my life could actually be if i began to look at the world as a grown-up.\n\nI could drive a car or ride a bike? I could find myself a job.. earn lots of money, and that means more video games! It comes at a consequence. I can't act like such a child anymore. No more stupid jokes. I have to work hard if I want all the cool stuff i'd always been wishing for. Y'know.. that sounded good. Really good. I began to see that maybe growing up wasn't so bad after all.\n\nHe shot a quick look at my parents. My eyes followed his to my mother, who was in pure shock. My father's jaw was dropped so low it looked like he had dislocated it. My face felt.. tingly. The man told me he was pleased with my progress, and hoped I had learned something from the conversation. He told me he hoped I would pursue my future eagerly and snatch up all the opportunities I could. Before he left, he turned and said \"don't forget to check the mirror.\"\n\nI ran straight to a mirror, and saw how old I looked. It's funny, a few hours earlier and i'd have panicked and said something along the lines of \"haha what an old fart, look at that guy!\" and probably de-aged into a baby. But no.. strangely enough, I was fine with it. I felt more mature. I ran my hands over my wrinkles. I had a nice, new perspective on life and I was going to go out there, work hard, make some money and have a good time doing it. A day later (today) I was out there, talking to people, calmly listening and offering advice. And tonight I was staring in the mirror, so happy at the new life I was living.\n\nIt's crazy how much can change in the span of a day."
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[WP] Write me a love story between diet coke and Mentos. You can make it a comedy, romance, etc. Have Fun!
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"This is a story of lust. This is the story between Mentos, the compact rigid male, not the biggest in size, but what he lacks in size he makes up for in sheer delight, in the flavour of his insides, in the way he gets up all in your mouth and leaves you tasting him on the outsides of your upper teeth for hours. A sturdy little fresh guy, Mentos has always had a thing for the opposite, for the unthinkable, a twinkling eye for the exotic; a soft brown female. Which brings us to Diet Coke.\n\nAh, this dark temptress, this mystery of the bottle, this fizzy limber substance shapable like putty in your palm, bubbling on your tongue with the silky smooth brown shining divine, ah, all kept tightly and lavishly in the curvaceous body of the transparent click-clacking glass. She was something. It was destined to be glorious when they first met.\n\nMentos dipped into her, his thick hard cover cracking immediately, he lost it inside one second, he couldn't handle the pure exciting arousing nature of her, the enticing bubbles and moreish flavour. He was done so fast. Together, they exploded, like a shooting star through the sky, spraying mad champagne uncontrollably and wildly, they burst together in a strangely mesmerising display of soda fireworks, they held on to each other and never let go as they bounced all over the floor, a sparkling mess of uncontrollable lust and desire. It was beautiful.\n\nDiet Coke then put her top back on, and waited patiently for round two.",
"“Presenting Lord Coke Von Cola, the Third, and his coming-of-age son, Dietus Von Cola.” The herald at the door shouted the names out into the crowd of dancing nobles.\n\nI scoffed. Surely it was a jest? The Von Cola’s had been the rivals of the Mentos since before both families had titles. Father held these balls at least once a year, but this was the first time a Von Cola had dared to show their face. A younger girl, from the TicTacer family, started twittering in my ear. \n\n“Oh Rosea, Isn’t that Dietus boy just ravishing? He looks too perfect to be human, almost as if he’s sculpted from glass.”\n\nI struggled to repress the urge to roll my eyes. No Von Cola could possibly be even remotely attractive. I knew for a fact that Sir Von Cola as a large, disgusting man that did nothing but guzzle sugar. Why would this….Dietus…..be anything different? But yet, I couldn’t resist the urge to peak at him anyway. \n\nOh. I managed to hide my gasp by turning it into a polite, lady like cough. His skin, the warm colour of melted chocolate, had a startling contrast with his bright silver grey hair. His eyes, deep pools of warm brown, sparkled with humour. \nI averted my gaze, suddenly fascinated by my handheld fan. \n\n“Rosea, oh Rosea! He looked this way! Oohh what if he’s looking at me?” The girl fluttered about, smoothing her blue dress and fixing her hair. She reminded me of a frantic Blue Jay, fluffing its feathers to attract a mate. \n\nBefore I could comment, the girl gave a small sigh of disappointment. “Or not” she grumbled, before stalking away.\n\nI watched her receding back, slightly confused. That was, until, my hand was grasped gently and raised. A set of cool lips danced along the edge of my knuckles. \n“Milady”\n\nI glanced down my arm, only to find the Heir of the Von Cola’s bowing over it. I pulled my hand back and tilted my head, a slight sneer on my lips. Handsome or not, he was a Von Cola. \n“Sir Von Cola. Britus, was it?”\n\nHe laughed softly at this, and oh, what a laugh it was. \n“Dietus, actually. And you, you are Rosea Pinkette La Mintha Mintos, third daughter of the Mintos family, and the only one to catch both my eyes and my heart.”\n\n“You’re a smooth talker, for a Von Cola. Now, be gone. I do not wish to sully my reputation by conversing with the likes of you”\n\nDietus laughed again, this time with gusto. \n“I’ll capture your heart if it takes me a life time, my lady. And although our love may bubble within us, our uniting will surely cause both families to explode. And wouldn’t that be a sight to see?”\n\nHe laughed again, before swopping down and planting a soft kiss upon my cheek. Vexed, I lifted my hand in retaliation, only for him to catch it before it could strike his face.\n“And one more thing” he planted another kiss, this time directly on my lips. “You taste of the sweetest cherries”\n\nAnd I could do nothing but smile. \n",
"\"HAVE YOU GONE MAD?! \"\n\nMentos shouted at Mentos.\"THIS IS SUICIDE!\" \n\nMentos looked back at him, away from Diet Coke. \"Don't knock it until you try it, baby.\"\n\nMentos was always a thrill-seeker, always going headfirst into a new situation, if given the chance.\n\n\"I can't stay sealed up in this world forever. I need to feel again.\" He slowly climbed the open bottle of mystery. Who opened it? Where's the cap? How many calories are inside? These are the questions that mere Mentosi crave. \n\nAs Mentos approached the brim, Mentos sighed, \"DAMN IT! YOU'RE LUCKY I LOVE YOU! LET'S GET THIS OVER WITH!\" \n\nMentos thought to himself, looking over the pops, smelling the unusual, unnatural sweetness of victory. \"I've done it. No one will ever doubt my hard shell again.\" \n\n\"HEY, WHAT AM I MISSING?!\" Mentos shouted toward Mentos as he continued climbing. \"HOW DID YOU DO THIS? THERE'S NOTHING TO HOLD ON TO! IT'S SMOOTH ALL OVER!\" \n\n\"It's smooth all right. And refreshing. You always told me that I couldn't... What are you, Ahhh!!! \"\n\nAt that moment, Mentos grabbed the rim of the bottle, the same part of the rim Mentos was also standing on. Mentosi are clumsy beings, and unlucky. For, you see, Mentos swept the bottom of Mentos unknowingly, propelling his oblate spherical body towards carbonated doom. \n\nThen, contact. His shell was softer than he thought, collapsing from the compounds and sulfates slowly consuming him. He fought back, instinctively and retroactively spewing venom from his now vulnerable, and soon to be lifeless/non-existent body. Diet Coke laughed, then groaned in immense pain. \"There is nothing fresh about this!\", Diet Coke screamed. He tried spitting out the venom, but it was spreading at a rate too fast for him to handle. That's when the foaming started. \n\nMentos screamed, \"FUCK THIS!\", and he pushed himself off the bottle, simultaneously knocking Diet Coke off its axis. The violent foaming took over this initial inertia, spraying and rocketing himself towards oblivion. Mentos landed on the cushion of Diet Cokes remains, as well as the soaked cushion of custom-made carpeting. \n\nBrown streaks were running down the lower half of his body. Mentos didn't know what was made that day, but it was definitely fresh. "
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[WP]You are a shape-shifting alien living on earth, taking the former of a human to hide. One day, a young girl sees straight through your disguise.
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"I thought I had hidden myself pretty well behind the convenience store, but evidently I hadn't.\n\n\"I saw you do it, you changed and I saw it happen.\"\n\n*Shit*, I thought to myself, *not again*.\n\n\"And I'm going to tell my parents and the police. You know you aren't supposed to be here.\"\n\nShe was smart for her age, probably ten or eleven, and she wasn't wrong. The humans had eradicated most my species from the planet when they found out. One of ours was framed for a murder and just like that we were all criminals. A bunch of political grand standing and fear mongering and next thing you know most of us were gone.\n\n I had to find a way to reason with this girl. At this point my life was to embedded here on Earth and frankly, I don't want to leave. It's nice here and the humidity is good for my scales come shedding time.\n\n\"Ok listen, I know what you think you saw, but you saw wrong. I was just changing my shirt and...\" my sentence trailed off, she had me and I knew it. I had to find a way to keep her from telling. \n\n\"How about if I show you a cool trick?\" It was a long shot, but kids like magic and to humans something changing form right in front of them may as well be magic, despite being commonplace among my species. \n\n\"No.\" She said firmly as she pulled out her phone.\n\n*All right, I suppose I have to do this the hard way*. I knocked the phone out of her hand and took off, changing form just as quickly as I was out of her's or anyone's sight. By the time she retrieved her phone I would be long gone and look quite different. I'll just have to be more careful next time I change.\n\n",
"The girl blinked a few times and slowly examined the drab, bored faces of the rest of the children in the classroom. Then, wearing a curious scowl, she raised a cautious hand.\n\nI stumbled through the seating chart, searching for her name, “Yes Miss...”\n\n“Hamilton,” she finished for me. “But you can call me Maggie. And I was just wondering, Mr. Andrews, if we were going to be covering anything about the *planets* today?” She sprouted a peevish grin, a knowing grin, and at that moment, I somehow knew that she could see through my disguise.\n\n“Uhm-uh,” I struggled, “That wasn't on the agenda today Maggie.” Her eyes sharpened to a glare. “But I suppose if you had some questions I could answer them during recess?” The smile returned and she nodded so profusely that the enormous glasses that framed her face nearly went flying across the room.\n\nWhen the bell finally rang Maggie stayed planted firmly in her seat while the other children stampeded out to the playground. “So,” she said, when we were finally alone. “What is an alien doing substitute teaching a fifth grade classroom in Indiana?”\n\nMy third stomach churned in nervous ritual. “I-I think the better question would have to be how an eleven year-old girl saw through one of the most advanced cloaking techniques ever devised,” I blurted. “I shouldn't look any different than any other teach here.”\n\nShe stood up and started toward me and for the first time in nearly two earth years I felt a spike of fear ignite inside me. I took a few steps backward and she stopped. “I'm not going to hurt you,” she said, stretching forward a calming hand. “Just, look.” Then she craned her neck forward and opened her eyes wide with exaggeration.\n\nRegaining my composure, I peered forward. One of the eyes didn't acknowledge my movement at all, the other had a misshapen cornea. “Astigmatism and monocular vision,” I said, more to myself than to her. “That would double down on two aspects the illusion relies on most.”\n\n“I knew it,” she shouted. “You really are an alien! I've known it since I saw you in the cafeteria last week.”\n\n“Yes, though unfortunately you won't know for much longer,” I sighed, slithering a tentacle inside my pocket. “I'm afraid I'll have to wipe your memory.” I pulled out the wiper they'd given me at the Academy and Maggie scamper to the back of the classroom in terror.\n\n“WAIT!” she screamed, scrambling to hide beneath a desk. “What if I promised not to tell anyone?”\n\nI rolled my optic scanners, “And why should I trust you?”\n\n“Because I read science fiction,” she said, pointing to a worn, Arthur C. Clarke paperback that was sitting on top of her desk. “Plus, no one believed me when I saw you last week, why would they believe me now?”\n\nI stared at her for a moment. There was something different about this human, she was ferocious, intuitive. I put my wiper back in my pocket. “Alright, but only because I move across the country in a week. And believe me, you're getting off lucky. If you ever see another one of us, you'd be wise to keep your mouth shut.”\n\nHer malformed eyes lit up, “There's more of you?”\n\n“Forget I mentioned it,” I said, “I'm not supposed to talk about any of that with the subject race.”\n\n“Subject race?” She nearly had a seizure. “What does that mean? Are you our overlords or something?”\n\n“Not *that* kind of subject,” I said. \n\n“So like—test subjects then?”\n\n“Listen I really shouldn't be--” I paused for a moment. How long had it been since I'd had a real discussion? How long since I'd talked to someone about the truth instead of just the nebulous smalltalk most humans resorted to? Here was a chance to speak, for a short while, as the true me. “It's, similar,” I finally conceded. “But it's more like an observational study, like with your ant farm back there.” I pointed to the terrarium at the back of the classroom. “We don't do any poking or prodding, we just watch.”\n\n“Watch for what?” \n\n“Nothing in particular,” I said. “We're just studying how you, what's the word – behave?”\n\n“Like Jane Goodall,” she said.\n\n“Like Jane Goodall,” I agreed.\n\nShe sat there for a moment, swept away in the twin currents of thought and awe. Then she looked up again and asked, “So what do you think?”\n\n“About what?”\n\n“About us, about humans,” she said.\n\n“Now, that would be saying too much,” I laughed.\n\n“Well can you tell me about your people?”\n\n“Sorry.”\n\n“Your planet?”\n\n“No can do.”\n\nMaggie crossed her arms and sighed, her face still wrought with lines of contemplation. “Can you at least tell me why your people want to know how we behave? Why you're studying us?”\n\nAgain she gave me pause. It would be so cruel to walk away and leave this creature with the knowledge that alien life existed without telling her a single thing about it. She reminded me so much of myself when I was a hatchling and I thought of how damning it might have been had my curiosity not been fed. I sighed, the Academy wouldn't like this, but saying nothing just felt wrong.\n\n“We're studying you because you're on the edge,” I told her. “Your civilization is at the turning point most don't make it past. You've developed the technology necessary for spreading humanity's seed to other words, but you've spent the better half of the last century stockpiling enough weapons to destroy your own multiple times over. It's not something we don't often see.”\n\n“So you're here to try and push us in the right direction?” she asked, hopeful.\n\n“That's not our choice to make. Every civilization must find it's own path to the stars.”\n\n“The Prime Directive,” she said, nodding.\n\n“Yes,” I said with a meager grin.\n\n“So why are you here then?”\n\nI almost bit the words back, but decided that after going this far that would be unfair. “In case you fall short,” I said. “My people are record keepers and it is the job of our Academy to record as much as we can about all sentient life in the galaxy. The species that make it--”\n\n“And the ones that don't,” she finished, her tone taking a solemn turn.\n\n“I'm sorry,” I said. “I know it's not an easy thing to--” But before I could finish the bell sounded and the rest of the children flooded back into the classroom.\n\nMaggie was quiet the rest of the afternoon. She didn't raise her hand, or take notes, or even look up from her desk. She just hung her head until the bell rang and then scurried out with the rest of the children, not giving me a chance to try and clear things up.\n\nI sat at my desk for a long while after the children had left. I'd been a fool, this was why the Academy forbade the kind of meddling I'd done. That sort of weight shouldn't be placed on the shoulders of any subject race, especially a girl so young. As sadness swelled in my emotion cortex I thought about how I should have just wiped her from the start. \n\nFinally, after the halls had gone dark, I began to gather my things and stalk over to the apartment I was renting nearby. But just as I was closing the classroom door I looked back and saw a piece of paper sitting on Maggie's desk. I walked over and peeled it up from the wood. It was folded in half and “Mr. Andrews” was scrawled across the front in the crisp handwriting of a young human girl. I opened it.\n\n“We're not going to fall short,” I read aloud with a smile. “I won't let us.”\n\nI tucked the paper away and made a note in my data-pad. “Human tenacity,” I wrote, “Its unlike anything else in the universe.”"
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[WP] A terminally ill man is in desperate need of a liver transplant. His only hope for a donation is a terminally ill woman who is in desperate need of his heart.
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"“We could trade, maybe,” a deceptively optimistic voice penetrated an awkward silence.\n\n“Are-are you serious?” A feminine voice rang out sharply. “How the hell did you stay alive for *this* long with that kind of thinking? Trade defective organs? Are you broken in the head, too?”\n\nShe instantly regretted her outburst, but a low chuckle from the other side of the room assuaged her.\n\n“I wouldn’t be surprised if that were the case,” he replied.\n\nShe smiled too, slightly, taking care not to show it. It didn’t last long, as the weight of the situation slowly settled back in.\n\n“Rock-paper-scissors?”\n\nShe snorted.",
"He stared at himself in the mirror. Eyes red rimmed and dull, hair a bit crazy from where he had raked his fingers through it. Over and over again for the last hour. He worried the tube that pumped oxygen into his body with his fingers. It should be funny, he thought. It could be some sort of joke, right? Some trick that some higher being was playing on him. Or maybe a test. A test to see whether or not he would do the right thing. \n\nHe sighed and ran his fingers through his hair again. It was not a test or a joke. It was just time. Time for him to realize what good he could do with the one part of his body that hadn't been ruined by his drinking.\n\nThis woman, she did not choose day in and day out to drown her menial sorrows in single barrel whiskey. She did not choose to wreck and ruin any and every relationship she once had. She did not, as he had, bring this on herself.\n\nHer illness was not her choice. She did not purposefully put herself at risk. For that alone, he knew he should give her his heart. Yet the same selfish mindset that got him into this current predicament had him hesitating. \n\nWhy should he give up his life for her? Why should he, who had never done anything for anyone, take this last opportunity and actually do something with it?\n\n\"Listen, James...Dad, you do not have to do this. We've never been anything to each other. The only thing we have ever shared is blood.\" \n\nHe turned away from the mirror and looked into the tired eyes of the daughter he had accidentally helped create, one drunken night long ago. Then he laughed. He laughed and laughed until he cried.\n\n\"Your mother said that maybe you would be my shot at redeeming myself. Bet she didn't know it would happen quite like this.\" He picked up the pen and set it to paper. \n\nThe nurse began to wheel him out to prepare him for what needed to be done.\n\nHis daughter reached out her hand and caught his fingers with hers, a gentle squeeze and release.\n\nIt would be the first and last time he ever held her hand."
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[WP] "What seperates you and death is this piece of paper."
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"There he lay, on what would be his final resting place, his days were numbered. His hands tightly grasping on to a crumpled piece of yellowed paper. He had been silent throughout the entire day, probably contemplating on how his life had led to this point, but somehow he managed to gather enough strength to mutter with his dying breath: \"**I**... **I** *have something to tell you...*\" He gestured me over and I moved my ears against his mouth, close enough to feel his last breaths against my face, close enough to feel the warning that pursued, \"*Our families* **entire** *empire, and* **your life**, *rests on this piece of paper.*\" He began coughing violently and took in a huge breath and only managed to splutter out *three* final words: \"Keep... It... **Safe**...\" The crumpled piece of paper tumbled from his hand, as the heart rate monitor flat lined, and landed silently amidst the chaos that ensued. I could not bare to see his death, but it felt as if time had slowed down, nurses and doctors rushed past me in hope of reviving him. I crouched down and gently picked up the paper from the floor, and immediately made my way out - the place stank of *death* and I could bare it no longer.\n\nLater that week, after attending his funeral - a gathering of many, I remembered that crumbled ball of paper that I had gently tucked into my left trouser pocket and where they had remained since he left, and the warning which he had left me with, \"*Keep... It... Safe...*\". As soon as I got home, I rushed to retrieve it and straightened out the ball. The paper was visibly a torn page from a journal of some kind with *two* sets of numbers. It was then that it suddenly struck me that these were the details to an off shore holdings account, I realised that the *entire* finances of my family were in *my* hands - for the account had been a well known family secret, that dates back many generations, and as a result it has probably accumulated *hundreds of billions*! This was enough to satisfy all my wants for an eternity. But then it suddenly dawned on me, the reality of my situation - there are probably people including my own family members who are out hunting for the details to the account, for *this*, for *me*.\n\nThe paper was a curse, I could not destroy it for it would ruin generations of blood sweat and tears, and doom the future of my family and the financial empire we had established. Yet, it is the reason why my life is now in danger. It will not be long before they figure out that *I* was the last to talk to him, that *I* was the one *he chose*, that *I* am the next **holder**. \n\nEdit: Formatting.\n\nEdit 2: Thanks for the constructive criticism. Formatting again.\n",
"The light flickered and swayed back and forth as if there were a slight breeze. It showed nothing in the room but faint particles of dust and a old beat up table.\n\n\n\"You've really done it this time,\" a voice called out from outside the light.\n\n\nSlowly a pair of hands reached up onto the table, they were clad in armor of some kind but it looked ratted and battle worn. The owner of the hands shift their seat closer to the table allowing the light to cast onto them. A tired looking, slightly bloody face peered across to where the voice came from.\n\n\n\"What did you expect when you or this organization wouldn't help,\" the armor clad figure coughed as he wiped the blood from his face.\n\n\nThe voice that commented earlier sighed and footsteps could be heard as the voice got closer to the table but just stayed out of the light. The sound of a rippling sheet of paper echoed around the room as a hand placed what appeared to be a contract on the table.\n\n\n\"Now you know I respect you and many of us didn't expect to see that happen but we want you to know we tried to help them,\" the voice explained almost getting choked up in the words.\n\n\n\"Then why was Obsidian allowed out of Raven's Gulf!\" the armored figure yelled.\n\n\n\"He bought his way out...\" the voice in the shadows sighed with a heavily disappointed breath.\n\n\nThe room became even more still, the dust had settled and was no longer visible in the light. The sounds of a ventilation system kicking in finally broke the silence. Out of the darkness appeared a gruff looking man, he appeared to be in his late fifties and was showing his age a lot. He looked like he hadn't had a decent sleep in weeks, coffee stains dotted his shirt and his glasses were so dirty it was a wonder that he could see through them. Finally a small gold badge glimmered slightly from his belt, it looked brand new like it had never seen the outside from the day it was assigned.\n\n\n\"Look I know I've let you carry out what ever you wanted as long as it wasn't to innocent people but this isn't a cartoon or fairy tale...you went too far this time and I don't think I can fix it unless you sign that contract,\" the older man said as he pointed to the paper on the table.\n\n\nThe man in armor looked at the paper slowly and methodically.\n\n\n\"Look, what separates you and a death sentence is this piece of paper...sign it\" sighed the man with the badge.\n\n\nThe man in armor reaches for a pen and signs the paper then throws the pen back to the man with the badge.\n\n\n\"Riot...or can I call by your real name...\" the man with the badge exhaled as he walked to the door.\n\n\n\"Don't get all philosophical now...it might as well be my real name at this point,\" the man in armor sharply responded with an arrogant tone.\n\n\n\"If I ever see you in this city, state, or country...I won't be so forgiving...now get lost you fuck\" the man with the badge angrily half shouted but when he turned around the armored figure was gone.",
"\n\"What seperates you and death is this piece of paper.\" \n\nI thought that a medical doctor would know how to spell 'separates' correctly. Regardless, his contract offered a unique opportunity: participate in his longevity experiment and gain immortality. I pretended to inspect the document, although the majority was industry jargon that dulled my senses. There appeared to be a section preventing me from suing anybody; I take responsibility of all risks, etc. Of particular note was a section detailing the possible final tests of volition, excluding the severing of my head, to be performed prior to declaring success. Following which, my payment would be everlasting life.\n\nIn mock consideration, I scanned his office. I was going to sign the contract. I just didn't want to seem too eager. His walls were exceptionally bare for a professional. An array of degrees, awards, and photos are the typical adornment for one proud of their career accomplishments. This doctor, however, hung a single dime-store frame displaying a faded medical degree from the micro-nation of San Marino. Behind his chair was a waist-high bookshelf topped with a model of an old-style Cesna airplane and stacked with general education books regarding geography and entry-level mathematics. \n\nHe handed me a worn clicky-pen from his jacket pocket. The remaining silk-screened letters on the pen could be read as 'EZ Auto Sales'. On my first attempt, the pen failed to apply ink to the paper, leaving an indentation in the shape of my signature. I swirled a squiggly in the margin of the contract until bright green ink began to flow from the tip and returned to the signature line. Holding the pen suitably against the paper to maintain some ink flow, I finished scrawling my name and handed the contract back to the doctor.\n\n \"Fantastic!\" he said while rummaging through a desk drawer. \"Now, to begin, I just need you swallow these crystals.\"",
"The decayed parchment unfurls in his bony fingers and starts to snake its way off of the hospital bed and beyond your peripheral vision. The fellow takes a step forward and his face becomes recognizable for the first time. \n\nYou had seen him once before - was it on the subway or bus? You can't quite remember now. All that you can remember are the eyes: those soul-piercing, stormy grey eyes.\n\n\"In case you had not realized, I am Death\" he states flatly. \"You probably won't be pleased to know that I am here on official business.\" \n\n\"I'd say that your humor would be the death of me, but, well...\" \n\n\"Touché. Let me get to it then. In my hands is a list of every sin that you have committed during your mortal existence. It is the only thing standing between you and the Great Beyond. I have to recount the details of each offense to you in excruciating detail starting from the most recent.\" \n\n\"We're going to be here a while, aren't we?\" \n\n\"Yes, it does seem that way. Okay, so yesterday you swore at a colleague who had taken your lunch by accident.\"\n\n\"Wait\" you reply. \"You said my most recent sin?\"\n\n\"Yes, I didn't exactly stutter.\"\n\n\"Well, shouldn't my gallows humor be on that list?\" you ask innocently. \n\n\"Um\" Death mumbles and stops speechless. \"Well-played, but I will be back\". \n\n\"I'm sure you will\" you say with a smile, as he disappears into the night. ",
"The old man in the corner coughed. He didn't have long to live, and we both knew it. I have no idea how long he'd been in this hell-hole, but it was long enough that his fingernails had chipped down to to skin and he had a pile of teeth on the pillow beside him.\n\nHis teeth.\n\nHe held up a paper to me, whispering, coughing and hacking out words. \"... Separates ... you ... death ... this ... paper.\"\n\nAt first I didn't understand what he meant, but when his finger pointed to the lock, I understood.\n\nI had one chance -- jam up the lock works with the paper, and escape after the guards leave.\n\n\"Lord be Praise!\" I thought to myself and moved to the door quite quickly. As I folded the page, I couldn't help but notice the pattern in the lines... poetry.\n\nNo, not poetry.\n\nHebrew Text -- the Torah. G-d's writing.\n\nCould I, a Jew, use the sacred Name to save my own life?\n\nNo.\n\nNot like that.\n\nWhen the old man died, they buried the page with him.\n\nAnd I will explain myself to Him. ",
"Wooden chair legs scraped against the uneven concrete floor as his spindly fingers grasped the chair's back. The shadowy hood of his cloak brushed against the dangling light fixture that flickered on and off overhead. From a tapered sleeve he produced a stack of papers which he spread across the table, gesturing wordlessly for me to examine them. Peering over the edge of the papers in my hand, I pretended to read as he removed the cloak to reveal a more modern and professional attire. With a few assuring grunts, I shuffled through the papers hoping that it would seem as though I had at least acknowledged them. Once I finished the last stack, he interlaced his fingers and placed his hands before him on the table.\n\nA humorously picturesque scene painted itself in my mind as I fought to contain the grin that was surely growing across my face. Death held a serious figure, straight and proper in his formal attire with all the necessary documents presented neatly in their fine print. This situation lacked weight in my heart and mind for the battle had long since been lost. This meeting was not of Death's accord, but of my own. It was not my time to pass and I knew that, yet what I sought was an end nonetheless. I had tired of the constant struggle, the overwhelming losses that dwarfed my victories in both size and number. Death was aware of my feelings and thoughts on the matter, but he cared little for them. I was not scheduled for this time or place and it was as simple as that. What I offered him in exchange for my release was not something that one easily came by and it was not an offer he would likely receive again in the next millennium.\n\nDeath was reviewing me silently with empty eyes, searching for some shard of doubt or regret tucked away in my soul. I attempted to maintain my composure until he was satisfied, watching intently as he retrieved a gleaming metal pen from his breast pocket. With an outstretched hand, he offered the instrument of my demise, resisting slightly as I removed it from his cold grasp. Moments later, a piece of paper that was different from the rest settled before me. To my surprise, he finally spoke in a smooth tone that seemed like smoke rising and dissipating in the air. His words were old-fashioned, flowery phrases that betrayed his imposing demeanor. These words fell fruitlessly upon my ears as I rolled the pen between my forefinger and thumb, marveling at the cleanness of it. As he reached the end of his speech, I turned my attention to him again, speaking my mind at last.\n\n“So, this is it then? Just this one paper?” I asked as he nodded. “What will become of you?”\n\nNo answer. I hadn't expected one, truth be told. He seemed to trace the tip of the pen with his eyes as it scrawled across the dotted line. When I had finished signing my name, I placed the pen down and prepared to ask my next question. Before I could utter a single word more, a silver crescent gleamed in the corner of my eye, growing at an alarming rate. I heard the table shatter and nothing else. He had stamped the paper with his scythe and my corpse. A death seal. When I awoke, I found myself in those familiar shadowy robes as the new embodiment of Death as my predecessor lay in a skeletal heap upon the floor.\n\n-201",
"The Paper\n\nThis writing prompt is written in memory of those who have taken their own lives. May God help them find peace in His glory today.\n\nThis writing prompt is dedicated to those who have and are struggling with depression or suicidal thoughts. Please get help.\n\n\"What Separates You and Death Is This Piece of Paper.\"\n\nIt was a bright and sunny Tuesday afternoon. I had just woke up. I know what you are thinking...afternoon? Yes I love my sleep, not because of how good I feel when I wake up. But the dreams I have. Ohhh they feel so real. But they are only dreams...sadly. I wish they were real. Like everyone else I always wake up at the best part which sucks. Ha any way moving on after I woke up I up did my normal morning routine. Had breakfast, brushed my teeth, had my coffee and went on my way to work. It was the routine that I knew too well, and dreaded so much.\n\nWhile I was at work I got a call. Started off pretty normal as it was my mother. She asked my how my day was going and told me that she loved and all the things mothers say when they call. I told her that I how to continue working before I get in trouble. She apologized and said that she will call back later. I knew something was wrong. I could in the tone of her voice. For the 28 years that I lived my life knowing her, I had never heard her like this. The call did bother me a little but I shoved it aside saying that I was overreacting.\n\nI like to day dream a lot. I know I should be doing my work but I like it. Today's day dream was odd though. It was about a piece of paper. Now usually my day dreams are complex because I have a vivid imagination. Or so I have been told.\n\nThe rest of the day was normal expect for one thing. As I was about to leave home someone texted me. The message only said one thing \"The paper is important.\" I thought about reporting it to the police but then I realized that I would probably be put in an insane asylum. I tried to call the number but it instantly said it was out of service. Which is odd. Then I remembered the dream. It really started to freak me out. I did not tell anyone about that dream. How would anyone know. I wish I had brushed it aside but I just could not but feeling that something was wrong.\n\nAnyways nothing else happened the rest of the week so fast forward exactly one week.\n\nI was at work again and had the exact same dream. Now I know that because its my brain it could just be a coincidence. But the part that I feel isn't a coincidence is that I got a text from that number again saying the exact same thing. I tried calling again and the number was still out of service.\n\nThis time a co-worker of mine came up to me and asked if I was ok. I told him I was just having a bad day. At that exact moment everything stopped. Everyone froze. Everyone except me. Or so I thought. I was terrified. It was like looking at a void. Just so empty and clear of life. Every was just so....Lifeless. I started walking around town. See everything stopped mid action and everyone stopped mid sentence. Those who were speaking when it happened became a broken record. They played the last syllable that they had spoken. Over and over and over again. Its been three days. I have walked countless miles. Have seem countless faces. Everyday I wondered why I wasn't frozen. Why I could move. It was like I was being punished for something. \n\nOne day I decided to go into the specific house. It was bright red. Very tacky. I walked in. I was exploring the house looking for food and other essentials. Thats when I heard it. A sound. A....Different sound. Not one that I had heard since everything stopped. They sound changed it was dynamic. I followed the sound upstairs and to my surprise I had found a child. A. Living child. It was crying. It must have been hungry. Without food for 3 days. The worst part thought, was not the crying baby but the crying mother. She was in the middle of putting the baby to sleep. She had a book in her hand. She was smiling. She had a tear running down the side of her face. I have never seem a mother so happy yet in such a state where she cannot even move. She was the happiest lifeless person I have ever seen. The baby however died. In my arms. I was feeding it. But it died. Just stopped moving. Over the past month I had gotten used to being by myself. Dont get me wrong. I cry myself to sleep every night. Sometimes I wondered, wondered if the people knew what was going on around them. Knew and understood. Nothing changed. Nothing. Nothing ever changed. I think this is punishment. I dont know what for though. I can tell because I have tried to kill myself. But it never works. What ever did this wants me to be trapped here. What ever did this is trying to show me something. I dont know what it could be. The lifeless environments, the helpless children and men and woman. I found somebody in mid air the other day. Before they froze they we falling. I think they tried to commit suicide. The man was right beside a building looking into the windows while falling. He was looking into the window of an apartment on the 12 floor of a high rise. I went up to him. The shear look of panic on his face almost killed me. He looked full of regret yet full of relief. I dont understand how its possible.\n\nI used to love sleep. I used to sleep from midnight to noon. My dreams would let me escape my daily life. They would calm\nme down and relax me. However now its terrifying. I dream about this world Im living in. I guess now, its more of a nightmare then it is a dream. Its like nobody in real life care just like in my dreams. Nobody cares. Not a single soul. You know, not that they are able to show it. \n\nWhen I realized this it all changed. I realized that this world isn't real. Right now i am a figment of my own imagination. I am not real. But how could this be. The only explanation is that its a dream.\n\n\"What Separates You and Death Is This Piece of Paper.\"\n\n\"What Separates You and Death Is This Piece of Paper.\"\n\n\"What Separates You and Death Is This Piece of Paper.\"\n\n\"What Separates You and Death Is This Piece of Paper.\"\n\nI wake up. But again. Nothing has changed. This time it was a day dream. It was first like it. I didn't know what to do. What to think. At that moment my mom walked into my room. She was carrying a plate of pancakes and syrup. My favourite. The syrup spelt happy birthday. As she walked in she dropped it. Stood in my door way. Tears began to flow from her eyes like a river. She fell to her knees and started to weep. She weeped like no son wants to see his mother cry. At that moment my dad called for her asking whats wrong. When he got no response he rushed up stairs. My sister came as well everyone rushed to my room. But when they got here they did the same thing as my mom. They fell to their knees and wept. All of them. Crying and staring at my lifeless body hanging from my ceiling. I had left a note on my bed. A single piece of paper. The paper said only 3 words \"I love you.\" That paper is what separated me from life and death. That paper was the cause of so much pain and anger in my family. Both my sisters moved away. My parents divorced after my dad developed a drinking problem and my mom lost her job. Everything was just like my dream. Everything was the exact same. Except everybody cared. Everybody. My entire school showed up for my funeral. My best friend now has depression and has tried to kill himself multiple times. Now. Looking at the world from heaven. I realized that everyone cared. Yea sure the sun still rises and sets. The moon still goes through its cycles. But everyone cares.\n\nIf you are struggling with depression or suicidal thoughts talk to someone. Dont keep it to yourself. Speak to a professional and get help. There is nothing wrong with you. But you shouldn't try to handle this by you self. Here is a website that has many Suicide Hotlines. Please get help soon its never too late to start new unless you end it. That cannot be fixed. \n\nHotlines can be found at suicide.org",
"On the surface it looked like an incredibly normal piece of paper. Oddly enough it indeed turned out to be an astonishingly ordinary piece of paper. There was nothing at all special about it. No inherent qualities that made it more significant than other pieces of paper. Still if it hadn't been for that piece of paper I'd be dead right now. The book in my breast pocket was a total of 212 pages long. If it had been 211 pages then the bullet would have pierced my heart. It's hard to visualize the importance of small increments like that until it's the difference between life and death. \n\nSo here I lay on the ground not dying. On my chest is a very insignificant piece of paper. Not a single thing about this piece of paper qualified it for the job it had performed. There was no grand design to be seen. No coincidence to be found. It was an incredibly dull and normal piece of paper, but to me it was the most important piece of paper in the world. ",
"I looked at the slim and flexible page, it's yellow tainted paper inked only with a few words written in the center.\n\n*\"What separates you and death is this piece of paper.\"*\n\nIts creases validating its authenticity. I folded it in perfect halves 3 times and placed it in my pocket, moving on with my daily life. Being wealthy isn't all it's made out to be if I'm being totally honest, you grow a dark suspicion for everyone around you, even those you considered dear before your rise to wealth. Which is why I never expressed my financial status when meeting new people. Things get really lonely when the part of your brain that allows trust for people, especially potential partners, diminishes.\n\nThankfully I wouldn't have to self-loathe over my incapacity to find a proper partner tonight because a group of my closest friends wanted to spend the night out. Same schedule as usual, poker while we're all sober, pub after and then poker again while we're drunk. It wasn't even the gambling we liked, everyone just loved seeing me lose. Assholes.\n\nEven though I blew a lot of money (relative to them) this time the young and extremely beautiful lady who made my acquaintance the entire night made me feel like a winner. She was gorgeous with amazing golden/blonde hair, dreamy blue eyes that were complimented by her conservative use of black mascara and luscious cherry red lips. I was astounded to say the least. Not so much by her beauty as much as her inclination to embrace in conversation with me. I may be rich but I was definitely the most unattractive of my friends. And she picked me!\n\nAfter hours of talking at the exclusive pent house bar and pool party I decided to call it a day, thankfully I already had her number and name. The paper was still in my pocket, but I wasn't at all concerned by it.\n\n\"Oh you're leaving? But I was just beginning to have fun!\" She voiced disappointment in her sexy breathy voice.\n\n\"Well I bet you'll have more fun at my place.\" I replied, it's apparent smoothness concealing the utter chaos of embarrassment originating in my mind.\n\n\"So do I.\" And we left off.\n\nAfter making it to my house she didn't seem at all surprised, which made me more and more attracted to her. She didn't seem to mind my status and wasn't positively affected. So I prepared her a glass of my most expensive wine, something I don't even do often with myself. \n\nNot even fifteen minutes later and we we're making out on my couch, she pinned me down and embraced her plump red lips with mine. I could feel her hand searching around my body as we were being intimate. Then she stopped.\n\n\"What's wrong?\" I inquired in confusion. She had a very serious look on her face, her perpetual smile faded into nothing.\n\nI saw that she had the piece of paper in her hand, I looked back at her and she grinned a sinister smile. An eerie giggle following only a few milliseconds after.\n\n\"Thanks for keeping this for me, I really needed the money!\" She said, she then tore the paper in half vertically. Ripping it up into smaller and smaller pieces before tossing them over her shoulder like it had no more purpose.\n\nI felt a throbbing pain in my heart, my stomach felt as though it would burst any moment. I threw up and lay down writhing in agony, my screams hurting my throat more than they merited. And she stared at me laughing. The pain grew in intensity and I felt myself losing consciousness, the last perception of reality being the fiery burn that pervaded my entire body, diminishing through my fingers.\n\n*What a terrible feeling, to die alone.*\n",
"I hand him the paper, locking with his eyes again. I don't speak, because silence is more persuasive right now.\n\nHe's always been a weak little boy. You know some kids are just born weak, you can't make them strong, I tried, I failed. He didn't need to be strong, and now, now I love him for being weak. Strong men, strong men say no. Strong men don't feel. Strong men don't love. A strong man would stop, he'd leave and go back to his family, a strong man wouldn't put himself through all the pain, all the horror my son's about to just to give me relief. Strong men are assholes.\n\nI used to be so strong, and now I'm so fucking weak, and I tell you what I'm a much better man now than I ever was.\n\n\"Sign it.\" I beg him, he looks down at the forms, he's crying.\n\n\"Sign it.\" I say again, \"Son, I love you.\"\n\n\"I love you to, Dad.\" He mumbles.\n\nHe signs the forms.\n\nThe doctor takes the paper from him, \"Well now that we have both your signatures, we can begin the procedure.\"\n\nI'm very old, and in lots of pain.\n\nAnd now I get to die.\n\nI love you, my brilliant, weak son."
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[WP] A man is sentenced to two-hundred years in prison. Thanks to medical progress, he lives to serve out his term.
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"His brow was heavily wrinkled, his hair an off-white halo.\n\nThe sun seemed too bright on his face, and he shielded himself from it. He made a motion to turn around, but the guards turned him around again. \n\nFreedom. Something he had dreamt of for so long, but now that it was hear it was more horrible than his original punishment. \n\nHe deserved all of the years he had gotten, probably more. He was brash, cocky, and thought himself to be invincable in his youth. He had played fast and loose, cars, drugs, money, and women. \n\nWhen Rick had welcomed him into the fold, he was flattered slightly. Moving on from a part-time drug dealing gig to the pros was just what his ego needed. He ran a tight ship, his dealers were loyal, and he was moving things incredibly fast. \n\nAshley was a means to an end. He cleaned up pretty nicely, really. All it took was a few spotty appearances at the local Baptist church and the senator's daughter was putty in his hands. A few weeks of courtship, hand-holding, it was easy. He paused only shortly before he killed her. The small sobbing hiccup is what got him the most. He was furious after that. He made sure to make her virtually unrecognizable so he didn't have to see her face.\n\nHe hunched over himself at the bus stop. He had the name of a half-way house that was to serve as a temporary jail. He didn't like it. Too many people. Too much noise. \n\nHe smiled to himself, as he saw a simple suit and tie laid out for him in his room. He made the knot jerkily, almost forgetting the movement after so long. He placed the knot around his head, and stepped off the chair.\n\nHe was quiet now. He had peace. ",
"*A FRESH WATER FISH IN SALTWATER*\n\n\n\"Hey, hey, excuse me? Do you know where Willow St. is? Thought it was here.\"\n\n\n\"Nope. No Willow St. here. Just a couple old skyscrapers in a city.\" the cop said.\n\n\n\"How the hell--what? I swear to God it was here. By this old oak tree, you see? It should have writing in the bark. You see? 'J.R.C. loves his mom.' I'm JRC. Joe Richard Cloutier, you see?\"\n\n\n\"You came to this park and carved, 'J.R.C. loves his mom' in that tree?\"\n\n\"No, no, no. You see, this wasn't a park. This goddamn tree was right in fronta my house in the suburbs. And some brats in middle school wrote that when I was kid, y'know?...But I do love my mom. She lives right here on Willow St in a nice wood house, with black shingles and tan paint and all.\"\n\n\"Actually, yeah, an old lady lived here in a tan house. I wanna say 40 years ago, they finally built this tower over it when she kicked the bucket.\"\n\n\"She died?\"\n\n\"Christ, yeah, long time ago. Where the hell ya been, ya don't know your mom been dead for forty years? Some friggin' kid you are.\"\n\n\"Been in the clink. She stopped calling a while back.\"\n\n\"Clink?\"\n\n\"Jail.\"\n\n\"Ah. How long?\"\n\n\"200. 200 years.\"\n\n\"200 years? You musta deserved it. Murder?\"\n\n\"Yeah. I'd tell you I didn't do it, but I don't care anymore. Yeah I did it.\"\n\n\"I swear ta God there's no place in this world for asswipes like you.\"\n\n\"I'm gonna go find a place to sleep.\"\n\n\n\nEverything burned him: each inhalation devoid of the familiar smells he'd expected, each street more metallic and concrete than he'd expected, each piercing memory of faces that had evidently died and withered long ago. Everything burned like saltwater in the gills of a freshwater fish."
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[WP] You have a very unique power. People are not able to remember your face, even not after spending weeks or years together in school. How are you using this ability? And how is it affecting your social life?
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"Most people would love to have a superpower. They think it would make them special because they are different. Well what if your power was to be so completely ordinary that it was impossible for anyone to remember what you look like. What if having that power meant that nobody knows who you are unless you tell them, no matter how long they have known you. What if having that power meant that you see a stranger in the mirror every morning, that you can't remember a single detail of your own face, that you are slowly going insane because you have no sense of distinction from the masses. Well, if you had that power then you would be me. And I would not wish that curse on anyone.\n\nAuthor note: This is my first post on this sub. Constructive criticism is welcome. ",
"\"The usual?\" she asked, her clear, sweet voice almost lost amid the din. \"One medium coffee, half an inch of room?\"\n\nJohn gaped at the barista. His mouth dropped open, though no words came out. Did she just…\n\n\"Is everything okay, John?\"\n\nShaking his head slightly, he recovered himself enough to stutter out his order: one medium coffee, just like she'd said.\n\nJust like she'd said. He must be going insane. Nobody remembered John, not his classmates from high school, not his coworkers, not his dentist or doctor or mechanic, though God knew he saw them often enough. You could see John every day for a year and not remember his face; he was uniquely forgettable, unrecognizable and ignored.\n\nBut she remembered him. She knew him. She was even cute; petite, dark-haired, bright and cheerful and caring enough to remember everyone's names. John watched her greet every customer, chatting with the regulars as if they were old friends. He realized they probably were. People had those, he remembered; normal people did. He tended to forget such relationships existed, having never had one of his own.\n\nBut she had remembered him. And so when she arrived at his table, and inquired if everything was all right, and would he like a fresh-baked pastry or another coffee, he smiled back and said yes, and got up to choose one. And they chatted, about the weather and the news, and their jobs, and all the other mundane topics normal people talked about. She said her name was Emily, and he said his was John, forgetting she already knew, but she just laughed and introduced herself over again too. And at the end of the conversation, unbidden, she wrote her number on a napkin and pressed it into his hand, and said to call later, after her shift ended. And John walked out of the coffee shop an hour late for work (it wouldn't matter–nobody would notice), holding the sticky paper like a treasure in his pocket. Was this how normal people lived? he wondered. Noticed, remembered, more than just another body walking the streets? He hadn't known what he was missing; how much brighter the world seemed, knowing someone thought of him. What made her different? he wondered. Why couldn't everyone be like her?\n\nAfter work he called, praying she remembered – how tragic it would be, if he was forgotten again – and she picked up with a \"Hi, John!\" and they talked some more, about gardens and computers and cephalopods, which were her favorite sea creatures because they were so smart. Every day that week they talked, over coffee in the mornings and by phone at night, and not once did Emily forget John's name. It was the best week of his life, though still the thought nagged at him: What made her different? How did she remember him, when nobody else could?\n\nThat Saturday, after dinner in Emily's tiny apartment, John finally asked.\n\n\"Most people can't remember me,\" he confessed, his words tumbling out in a sudden, desperate rush. \"I think it's a curse – my face is so forgettable, nobody has ever recognized me, nobody else remembers I even exist, so…\"\n\n\"Why do I?\" Emily guessed. \"Well, I actually…don't.\"\n\n\"You see,\" she continued, seeing John's face fall, \"I don't remember anyone's face. But it's not a curse, it's a medical condition, called 'prosopagnosia'. Oh, don't worry – I can't recall your face, but I remember your brown hair, with the cowlick on one side, and your scuffed shoes –\"\n\nJohn glanced at his shoes; they were indeed very scuffed.\n\n\"And your black briefcase with the detachable shoulder strap, and the way your shirt is tucked in, and your habit of wearing something blue every day–\"\n\nJohn looked down with some surprise at his blue tie, and navy socks.\"\n\n\"–And all your socks are navy,\" she concluded, following his gaze. \"And that's how I remember you, John, and everyone else I meet. I have an excellent memory for patterns and details.\" She smiled shyly, leaning closer. \"Oh, and you smell so good,\" she added. \"I just noticed – I've never been close enough before. What else do you think I could see, if we were closer?\"\n\n\"Let's find out,\" John said as he wrapped her in the first hug of his life.",
"I'm a Drifter.\n\nAt least, that's what I call myself. I have a name, but after using literally hundreds of aliases, I don't really remember the original anymore, but it doesn't really matter when no one can remember my face. I just float like jetsam through the crowd, drifting through life without the need to take things seriously.\n\nHence the name.\n\nI guess I could've been a better person with my power. Somehow. I dunno. I've gotten pretty comfortable with using it for \"evil.\" Do I want to have an expensive lobster and steak dinner? Walk into the restaurant, dig in, and then amiably walk out. Hide for a bit. By the time they finally catch up to me, anger turns into confusion. *Oh sorry, I thought you were someone else! He was wearing clothes just like yours...* \n\nWorks every time. \n\nOr girls. Working the charm still takes some work, but once that's done, it's easy coasting. Just fuck 'em and forget 'em. Not like they're gonna remember me. \n\nReminds me: once, in Germany, I think I met another Drifter. She sat next to me on the train and we made plans to meet at a pub a few doors down later that evening. As the time drew nearer, I realized that I could not for the life of me remember what she looked like. It was extremely surprising, considering that (perhaps ironically) I actually have a very good facial memory. I wandered into the pub and milled about for a half hour before giving up. Can you believe it? One of my kind, and I'll never see her again. Or at least, I won't know, even if I do. \n\nNeedless to say, I can never keep a girl. Or a friend. Well, that's not completely true. I corresponded with a girl from Zurich for several months by email. At one point, we decided to meet up. I guess I was young and hopeful. I thought that true love was the answer to my problem. This girl, Anna, she was my love and my best and only real friend. \n\nAnd so we spent a wonderful day and night together. I remember visiting the city park, smoking a few joints, eating at a great sausage place, an evening carnival, sticky fingers entwined into mine, the stringed lights burning red and yellow, the cool night air of the beach, the steps leading to her apartment. Most of all, I remember her touch, her lips, her laugh, her face. \n\nThe next day, she called the cops because a strange man was in her bed. \n\nWhen the officers asked her to detail the man she was originally with, she tried so hard to remember, but she just couldn't. It confused and upset her, and irritated the officers. I smiled a bit and quietly walked out of the room. By the time they realized I had left, the cops came swiftly out into the street to apprehend me. But they found only unfamiliar faces.\n\nNo, I don't really have a home. I mean, I used to keep a dingy little apartment in downtown Chicago, but that was just a place I stayed in for convenience's sake at the time. To be honest, I don't think I'll ever feel at home, anywhere. One has to be comfortable in one's own skin first. How could I, when my own face is so easily forgotten, even to myself? That's why I've stopped looking into mirrors and glass. It's a shock each time.\n\nI do a lot of traveling. Might as well see the world, even if the world doesn't really see me. Speaking of which, I think that's my flight boarding. Have a safe journey, buddy. I would say \"see you around\" but, well, never mind. \n\n"
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Inspired by the AskReddit thread that I can't link right now, as I'm working and on mobile.
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[WP] You are the next victim of a famous serial killer who only kills with different tools and traps utilizing grapes.
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"The newspaper I had been reading left me feeling nauseous, a serial killer was on the loose and he was targeting girls with dark hair, glasses, and a little pudgy, 3 things that described me perfectly. The sick part was that he was in my area, I quickly got off the bus and entered my house, when I opened the door I noticed something fell off the top, and bent down to pick it up... it was a grape, the knife pierced into my back and I fell down and just barely got a glimpse of his face. \"Shhh, my grape is the key to... \" She blacked out before he finished his sentence.",
"I had just left precinct #13, my nerves were a wreck and I had to hold onto the railing as I walked down the steps. “You fit his mold,” they said, “We’ll put someone on you to watch you.” The words just glazed over me, barely registering. My features ran through my head, my caramel skin stone and athletic physique. I thought of my tall frame and just attractive enough, but nothing special except when I am smiling, face. I was, could be, next. \n\nThe office had images of his victims in the background. They’d all been killed differently, some mutilated, others hung, with the one commonality that all of their eyes had been replaced with the purples grapes, the big ones with seeds in them. And as I struggled down those steps I couldn’t help but wonder about those grapes as my eyes, and if he replaced them before he killed his victims or before. \n\nSomehow I made it home and at the foot of my door was a bunch of grapes. My heart started racing and before I could turn around there was a hand over my mouth and my eyes began to droop. I tried to claw at his face, but my hands were weak. I tried to escape his grasp, but his grip was strong. The last thing I remember was I am going to die with fucking grapes for my eyes. \n",
"She flinched as another grape struck her in the head. Another twenty-four hours of this and it might start to think about leaving a bruise. The only exit was locked, with a small opening where her captor tossed a seemingly endless supply of grapes at her. She began to wonder how he had ever managed to kill anyone. Then the dread began to rise again, *this man intends to kill me. To end my life!* She had never thought she might die anytime soon, no typical twenty-one year old does. And here she was facing an apparent murderer. The despair boiled into rage, *this son of a bitch intends to steal my life. I won't just lie back and let him have it!*\n\nShe began to plot. How does one kill with grapes? The are soft, juicy, small enough that she could swallow them without choking...perhaps with enough grapes you could strangle someone. She laid perfectly still. The pile of grapes rising around her. She did her best not to fall asleep. She had to be ready. Finally she heard the lock clanking, her capture's slender, yet tell form filling the void of the open doorway. She laid still, the pile of little fruits partially obscuring her face and her arms, her hands clutched a handful of grapes each yet she was unsure what she would do. Rage quelled within her. Nearly enough to make her tremble, but she kept still, she had to keep still. \n\nThe man dropped to one knee, his face shadowed in the dark room but his glasses glinting slightly from the light that seeped in from behind him. He picked up a single grape and rolled it in his fingers, what did he intend to do with that? He move towards her, and once he was within reach She flung a handful of grapes into his face. He recoiled back, just enough so that her foot pushing upwards sent him off balance. She went from her back to her feet in a moment, her teeth gritting, her throat growling with rage as she loomed over him. \n\n\"You like grapes so much you fucking freak?!\" She shrieked before jumping onto him. With a handful of grapes she pushed her palms into his glasses, she heard them crunch and the man scream as bits of grape and glass pushed into his eyes. He writhed, managing to knock her to the floor, which was growing slippery in crushed grapes, but he was blind, and easy to elude. He charged to where he thought she was, only to lose his balance again. She took another handful of grapes and rolled him to his back, continuing to shriek like a banshee as she pried his jaw open and stuffing the grapes inside. She clamped her palm on his chin, he breathed out his nose. Keeping her knees pinned to his shoulders she took another handful of grapes and mashed them into his nostrils. His writhing grew weaker as he was unable to breath with the help of her hands and the grapes. Finally he was still.\n\nShe crawled out of the doorway, into a larger room filled with crates upon crates of grapes. She did it. She fought off the man who intended to kill her with grapes. She was better than him, she was...*the true grape killer.*"
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"What now?"
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[WP] You are a high level character in a fantasy world. You defeated your enemies, become pretty much immortal and are now the most powerful being ever, so much that you can be mistaken for a god. After a while enjoying your power over others, you are now bored since nothing is difficult anymore.
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"Mister Power then realized that by being able to kill anyone, he could apply those skills somehow to make money.\nThen he made some money.\nAnd he already had the power.\nSo he got himself some women.\n\nAnd a case of beer.\nRather than the prompt, the aftermath:\n\nIt was pretty rad and totally what all-powerful beings do both on the way to saving/ruling the world and after.\n\nAnd he totally used his magical powers to heat up some delicious gourmet whatever and the babes thought it was awesome with a glass of wine, whose\nvintage hails from the hallowed halls of ... I don't know ... because it's a fantasy world.\n\nI could go on and on about this fantasy world and the pornography that is made in-between scenes between our hero and the babes... but it's too hard to handle writing it all out.",
"He had done it all, achieved everything he could have ever wanted. He had anything and everything whenever he wanted, every single one of his sets was complete to the highest power possible. No one could come close at this level, no longer was anyone a challenge anyone that came to face him was instantly slayed by his overpowered weapons which he spent hours working towards. \n\nAfter months of literally one hitting enemies he decided that it was finally time to truly test his skills. He looked up to the heavens and entered prestige...",
"It took very little effort to become the God-King. Just fight. Fight. Fight. Fight tougher, stronger things.\n\nThere soon comes a point where you feel overwhelmed by forces beyond your power. **Keep fighting weaker things until through sheer experience you crush the stronger ones**.\n\nThen came the worship. Weak-willed fools, thrill-seeking heroes, begin to adore you. Worship you. **Fight them all*.\n\nDeath follows your actions, and yet you are loved. You **fight** those who love you.\n\nEventually, world ending events grow tiresome. So you **fight** the gods themselves and force them to give you more power.\n\nSoon, you find they cannot, for you have surpassed them. You **devour them** and only afterwards wonder what you just did.\n\nYou build a small castle on the moon out of mammoth bones and congealed dragon fat, reinforced by shield magics. The local moon elves try to stop this, but you **gaze** upon them and feel disgust as they fail to even fufill your desire to **fight**, dying where they stand.\n\nAn assassin contemplates killing you back on the world. He dies from your warrior priests bludgeoning him with your holy symbol, a mace. They are a strange lot, your priests. Very literal, but then they never last long. Praying to you causes them to self-immolate.\n\nA demon tries to build a spaceship. You **grab** its continent and fling it into one of the suns. Mostly just to amuse yourself as the demon tries to rapidly finish its space program before it falls into the sun.\n\nYou are **bored** so you start doing city-sized graffiti (YOU ALL ARE BORING SHITS) on an asteroid then flicking it to the normal world.\n\nWhich, on examination, is lifeless.\n\nOops.\n\nIt is now you decide to try out magic, for the first time.\n\nYou travel back in time and rip the throat out of your past self and disguise yourself as a normal human. You **fight**, but decide to forgo revealing your godhood, instead watching what happens.\n\nEventually, you see humans make pacts stronger than mere deals with demons, of alliance and in some places true love and respect. \n\nBemused by this, you assist the human-demon alliance in conquering the world, whilst in secret creating new breeds of moon orcs in your image to destroy them all for your entertainment.\n\nScrabbling in the dirt with humans soon gets tiresome though, so you make a lizard giant, magically give it firebreath, and make it immortal but for being hugged by a 7 year old or being nuked with Meteor spells.\n\nYou also make it vehemently hateful of any being under 8 years old and also make it have a 3 century mechanism to revive if killed by meteor.\n\nYou make 3 billion of these lizards before deciding you overdid it and **devour** them all.\n\nSoon bored by the new Lizard Empire, you decide to watch your young pre-godly adventuring self.\n\nYou then **devour him**\n\nThen, in a fit if rage and boredom, you **devour** the moon. Then the world. Then the stars. Then reality.\n\nThen you devour yourself.\n\nEventually you awaken on the start of your adventuring career as if nothing ever happened.\n\nYou **fight**. And become the God-King anew.\n\nMaybe this time you'll let them get laser technology before you **devour** all things.\n\n\n",
"The sun hung golden and scorching, its dry heat scraping Karelms skin. Most of the village had left for the river, children splashing while parents basked in its chilled breath, but Karelm and the other lumber workers remained. Trees never rested, as the boss said. Whatever that meant. \n\n\"Why's it smell like cinnamon?\" Aref asked, pulling at his lever. \n\nKarelm sniffed, following his nose to the dry spicy scents source; a pile of cinnamon jars high as a man, spilling out behind a stack of wood. He pocketed one. \"Someone dumped a kings ransom over here.\"\n\n\"Ah,\" Aref said. \"Watch out for the bear.\"\n\nHead jerking up, Karelm had enough time to dodge the flying lump of fur and claws. He scurried back, reaching for his rubbish family heirloom dagger. He stopped. The bear's tongue lolled out, eyes rolled back, flies buzzed around its head. It was dead.\n\nOut of the forest strode Hero, naked as a baby except for the bulging, clanking backpack. He picked up the bear carcass and tossed it yards towards the village, walking after it without a word to the watching workers. \n\nTurning the lever, Aref said, \"Camilla was complaining about bears earlier.\"\n\n\"You think he used his bare hands?\" Karelm asked.\n\n\"You're awful.\"\n\nA moment later, Hero strode back and wedged an crimson gleaming greatsword into a tree, pushing until only the hilt showed. He turned to the two men. \"Whoever can pull this sword from the tree can keep it,\" he said, deepening his voice. Then, in bored tones, \"You can be a hero or something. Kill the bandits in Mitgel, gods know they'll just come back again.\" Hero stuffed all of the cinnamon into his pack without problem, summoned a horse made of brimstone, and rode off.\n\n\"Take the lever,\" Aref said. He pulled at the sword, pushing against the tree, and failed. Swearing, he took an axe from the pile, hacking at the trees base. \n\nAn hour passed, Karelm pushing the lever about while Aref chopped. The tree toppled, tangling into the boughs, and Aref slid the sword from it's severed wood. He couldn't even hold the thing upright, but he smiled. \n\nKarelm leaned over the lever. \"Give it a swing, then.\"\n\nThe effort of lifting the blade over his head and down threw Aref forwards. A crescent stream of fire flashed from the sword's arc and cut the lumber yard in two, burning wood. Aref dropped the sword in horror.\n\n\"If you wanted to quit, you could've said so,\" Karelm drawled.",
"He's dead. I killed the king. What's left for me to do?\r\rI spent months upon months training. I did escort missions...ESCORT MISSIONS! I've saved every town, I've explored ever cave, nothing can kill me. \r\rI'm humoring the bandit here and I haven't attacked him yet. His sword can't get through my armor. What's the crappiest weapon here? Oh, a wooden dagger...well, he died in two hits. Great. \r\rI don't feel any challenges. I don't feel pain.\r\rI wonder if there's any quests left. I'd settle for a collection one. \r\rThey're all staring at me. They know I killed the king. They're worshipping me as if I'm a god. STOP WATCHING ME!\r\rI think I'll try being homeless for a while. Drop all my gold, armor, potions, and weapons. Yeah, that will be fun! Shit, I still have magic. Ugh. \r\rIf there are no quests to do, am I a hero? \r\rI wonder what it would be like to massacre a town...",
"Gordon raised his mighty finger, and slammed it upon the metal.\n\nWith a violent cry, he sent thousands soaring; bodies slammed into the thick, black walls behind them, coating them in blood. Many flew to the glass, near shattering it, and even more were slaughtered instantly from the impact of his wondrous power. Vultures stormed through windows, swooping in from the night sky to feast upon the corpses of his slain foes.\n\n\"I am Gordon, King of all. Bow before your master.\"\n\nSuddenly, a thunderous stomp was heard behind him. *Someone approaches.* He spun round and stared at the stairs behind his noble throne. *Could it be an ogre? Or a troll? Perhaps a worthier challenger?*\n\nA foot wearing pink appeared. Then a thick, hairy leg. The bottom of a tunic of green, with lightly coloured roses, and suddenly Gordon realized. *The Roses,* he thought, *The sigil of the mighty one, the harbinger of my demise... This is no troll. This is much worse.*\n\nThe beast descended the last step, and he gazed upon the face of his vanquisher. Slowly, and frightened beyond all hope, his grip upon his weapon released, and there was a clang as his xbox controller struck the carpet with a *crash*.\n\nThe beast opened it's mouth, and spoke. \"Gordon, would you and your little friends like some Macaroni and cheese?\"",
"\"Dar!\" Dervish wound up, arms flung in the air. \"*Sarnnnn...!!*\" \n\n\"Oh sheit...\" Wyld giggled beside Dervish.\n\nPrimor, Dervish's target, giggled, too.\n\n\"*RNNNNNNNNN!!*\" Dervish continued.\n\n\"Aw, c'mon,\" Primor said, grinning, \"You've only so much mana to--\"\n\n\"**BOOOMMMM!!!**\" \n\nPrimor disappeared under a gargantuan blast that parted the clouds and shook the entire island. \n\n\"Whooo!\" Wyld exulted, dancing a little jig as his mana barrier negated the shockwave. \"I know *that one* had to feel good, 'cuz it felt good to me!\"\n\nA few seconds passed before the Darsan's Boom spell dissipated, leaving debris of dirt, glassed rock and drops of moisture to rain from the sky, and likely continue to do so for a few minutes longer. There was no sign of Primor, however.\n\nWyld asked, \"Do you want to revive him, or should I? That must have emptied your reserves.\"\n\n\"Eh,\" Dervish said with a shrug. \"What's a Flash Revive run? Two percent of unmodified maximum capacity?\" He looked up for a second, gauging his own capacity for a moment. \"Anddd...that should be replenished enough.\"\n\nDervish casually wound an arm across his body, getting his fingers ready in the proper incantation position. \"Primor!\" He slung his arm back across and snapped his fingers, igniting divine sparks at the tips. \"Revive!\"\n\nPrimor reappeared in a blaze of divine light, fresh and whole. \"Oh man,\" he said. \"Did that look as good as it felt?\" He grinned, tilting his head back and forth. \"Wow, that really got the kink out of my neck. Like a whole new man!\"\n\n\"Dibs! Next!\" Wyld called. \"I got a disease or some other from the tavern wenches last night. Itches like a scabbleworm.\"\n\nPrimor walked over to the other two Hero's sides. \"You know,\" he said, \"we could just take him to a healer.\" He pointed beyond the massive hole in the island, still smoking from the spell, off to the west. \"There's one in Drestall. I have the teleport rune, of course. We all do. It'll take maybe--\"\n\n\"Naw,\" Dervish said. \"I like this way better.\" He pointed at Wyld's feet. \"*Icarrri!* **BOOST!!**\" He threw his finger up, high into the sky, sending Wyld, giggling, into the clouds in an instant.\n\nPrimor shielded his eyes, watching Wyld fly so high the giggling faded from hearing. \"Wow,\" he said. \"A cheap modification spell. Huh. Never would have thought of that.\" He looked to Dervish. \"Where's he coming down, you think?\"\n\nDervish shrugged. \n\n\n\n ",
"((I tired to not make a monologue, but a monologue I did make... I suck))\n\nI took a breath and listened. \n\nA child broke his leg while climbing a tree on the other side of his father's fields, he calls for his mother. His mother was inside their home preparing lunch, I sent an impulse to her to check on her child. \n\nA man is being robbed at knife point. The robber was desperate after accumulating debts. The victim saved his earnings to pay for a home. I sent a threat to the mugger. I sensed the fear that over whelmed him. The robber dropped his knife and prayed for clemency. The victim pleaded for him for his behalf. I stayed my vengeance and allowed the mugger to flee. \n\nA woman murdered in her husband's drunken rage. I struck him down and returned life to the woman.\n\nMy throne, my power, my status... yet, I still have envy.\n\nEvery threat I can strike down in instant. I am not bound by death, nor can the void hold the dead from my will. There are no kings except I yet people live as equals to one another. There are no nations only communities of content and optimistic people. Crimes are rare as my judgement is swift and final, yet fair. \n\nIt's not power I envy. The final plane is one I dare not tread. I envy my subjects' adversity. I made them a utopia to live in, one I cannot take part in. The child's broken arm will take months to heal, and will feel much pain, the robber continues to be in debt and will face justice eventually if he does not pay his debtors, the wife is alive but must bury her dead husband while having to live with consequences of his actions had forced on her, knowing the one she gave her life two tried to take hers.\n\nI envy them greatly. \n\nTemptation fills my heart. I want to fall, I want to become mortal once again, and die in the ensuing chaos fallowing my disappearance as their god-king. Do I have the right to leave?\n",
"\"Power, we can show you real power.\"\n\nOf course they can, they all can and they've been attempting to sway my mercy with that same offer since I showed up. Demons don't feel much pain and these were no exception, must be why they torment the innocent in such disturbing manners, they can't relate to physical suffering. Such cowards. Zlevx and Urt'elmi, they tell me these two came into this world together and I'd say that appears to be true enough as they do mirror one another in appearance, one a pestilent viridian and the other sleek ebony. Born of the vile dreams of thousands of degenerates that over the centuries lent their praise and in the end, their souls, to these abominations.\n\nIn their cave, their pit, Urt'elmi hung in the air above me. His black, opalescent skin immune to any physical barrage a man could muster and yet he most assuredly has a weakness. Zlevx was knelt before me, my right hand reaching up and wrapping firmly around his throat.\n\nI turn my eyes toward the ceiling, \"You can't promise me anything, demon. Today you reap the pain you've inflicted on the weak and blameless.\" I want him to feel insulted, I want him to feel fear.\n\nI relax my body, but not the hand on Zlevx's throat, and start the process I seem to have pioneered. My palm is a whirling maelstrom as I draw the evil from this creature, inside me Zlevx's demonic essence cannot survive without some petty insecurity to latch on to but the suffering, all the untold pain this monster has inflicted infects my arm and I wince at 500 years of carnage. He put up a fight but never stood a chance, Zlevx looked to keep and I would soon be giving almost all of it back to him. As his demonic spirit is fractured, wings come crashing to the floor stretching 10 feet in both directions, not that of his fellow pitspawn but his very own.\n\n\"You've shared quite a bit with me just now Zlevx, what vile things you have done over the years. Now you will truly see the price of your actions.\"\n\nUrt'elmi suddenly dropped to the ground but he was far too late to save Zlevx and as it turns out, himself. The whirlpool in my palm became a torrent of psychic energy that flowed from my fingers, now dug into Zlevx's neck. I watched his eyes widen as a scream tried to escape his lips but either my grip or his shock prevented it from leaving. I followed the surge into his central nervous system where I delivered the pain of his most helpless victims, the pregnant women that were cut open and the unborn infants that were feasted on for his rituals. Zlevx's eyes rolled back in his head but I kept him with his body for a moment longer as I pulled him apart, no longer a demon he felt everything.\n\nAs Zlevx fell apart in ribbons I ran forward through the flayed remains with Urt'elmi in sight. I stopped almost as suddenly when I saw Urt'elmi laying clenched on the floor of the cave, screaming. I appears as though destroying this demon's kin has shattered his mind. I knelt down beside this agony-wracked beast and touched his temple at the base of a horn.\n\n\"Take now your last moment of rest.\"\n\nHe sighed heavily as I temporarily connected to his mind as his sibling had before.\n\n\"Please! No more! Release from this form!\"\n\nI traced a ward into the ground with my finger and the stone came alive to encase him from head to toe, I severed the connection and heard a low rumble from inside the stone cocoon, it was Urt'elmi screaming again. As I walk out of the cave I reach back with my mind to the deepest corner of this cesspool and pull the rock with me, collapsing the pit and erasing the demon lords from this place.\n\nI look out at the charred landscape before me and the green on the horizon and think about home. I hope this is the last time.",
"I sit in my throne and look down on the level 1 peasants. I was them once too, a noob who did not know how to shoot a gun or fly or swing the almighty hammer of zeus. \n\nBefore the time of this realm, there was once a place. They called it \"earth\" where nothing special went on, no goblins to fight no dragons to slay. The people of that realm were at constant war. Eventually one country survived, they left their pitiful planet and formed a new place. But, this realm they landed up going into was full of baddies and eventually, technology emerged to help fight. Eventually, this technology would be the HUDS and power screens, one man integrated the first human, in a cyborg like state. His DNA was changed however, so all who pass forth after him would be like him, eventually thousands of the survivers got their hands on it, and natural selection did its part.\n\n\nFast forward 200 million years, that story goes in as an old legend. People care more about leveling then about history. This world has one universal language.\n\nBut, we still pressed on technologically. But the new age stuff is reserved for higher levels. Ones whose level is about 9000 or more. \n\nI am the oldest person on the planet, level 9000 would be pitiful for me. I am in the millions of levels. There is no end, but exp becomes less valuable.\n\nI am currently level 120 million 523 thousand 671 exp to level up 221 uncentillion.\n\nI instantly kill everyone who falls before me.\n\nI look back on my life, I was born in a blacksmith's basement, my mom died during childbirth. My dad was an alcoholic and depressed freak, but when it came to family, he was different. He bestowed upon me his first weapon in his will and nothing else. I was 7 with nothing but a wooden sword. My dad saved our village, at the cost of his own. A dragon laid on the mountain near and in his drunken stupidity he claimed the dragon's head. the dragon avenged himself however. \n\n\nA wooden sword was all I was granted, I decided to leave home and find a new place to settle, I did not have any friends to look back too either. Ya' see you start out with a default level. Most have level 0 to start out. Lucky few start at level 50. I started at level -100. I was the only one with a negative starting value and thus was left alone all my life, my dad was the only one who looked at me with pride. At -100 I was granted no special abilities and had only the strength of my weapon. I couldn't join a guild either. I climbed the ranks going from -100 at 7, 11 years later having a level of 100. I was in a small group of guild members, I fell in love, I thought my life was happy and complete. But a man in a hooded cloak came, while we were exploring killing of the monsters we could he came, he did not look happy, he striked all of us down, but left me\n\n\"You, are special yes?\" he said with a grin, I look around. Horrified to see the fate of my friends and my special one\n\n\"Born as a level that is negative\"\n\n\"Well, I can bring your lover back.\" He showed me a potion, it revives the player chosen\n\n\"Under one condition..\"\n\n\"What is it?\"\n\n\"You, work for me.\" He said with a grin.\n\nHe made a contract and I signed, he gave me the potion and my lover was back. \n\nThis guy was no ordinary explorer. His levels exceeded the highest at level 600 thousand. \n\n\"I want you to hunt dragons....\"\n\n\"But dragons are in the thousands of levels, I am only level 122 you know.\"\n\n\"Quiet, you were born a miracle at level -100. I grant you my will, my power, my soul.\"\n\n\"I am an old guy, lived far beyond my comprehension. I have the power\"\n\nAll of a sudden he fadded away, I gained the strength and skills of a 600 thousand player level, at only 122.\n\nI killed all the dragons, he rests in my soul. I carry out his wishes, I even conquer the gods, He was level 600 thousand, he was a demi god. Gods emerge after level 1.2 million, I became a god. But the current gods looked down on me, they have always. They say gods created the leveling system, and yes, the starting level system\n\nMy rage burned within me, at this point I was killing godlike creations. I grinded my way up the ranks to find zeus, the most powerful god. His name is after one of the elders from the land far far ago, known to be the strongest. I take my godlike blade and smack it into his hammer.\n\n\"You, won't win against me.\"\n\n\"My level is 100 million, you puny 64 million get out of my castle\"\n\n\"No..\"\n\nI gain the strength of all my love ones at this moment in my rage, all the friends that have died. The lingering spirit in my soul, my previous friends killed by that madman. My godlike friends who had the misfortune to trust this guy.\n\nZeus was a wrathful spirit, he killed gods for fun, as target practice. Most of my friends died by his hand, but no longer will they have to. I was supposed to be next on the chopping block.\n\nMy inner rage burst out, and a weapon was formed in thin air. The blade of destiny, the most powerful damage dealer. The fastest, the god tier of god tier weapon. I slised down zeus but he did one thing in his last breath\n\n\"You...have bested me..\"\n\n\"I must do what the previous god has done when I did that...\"\n\n\"My rank...my power....everything...belongs...to you..\"\n\nInstantly I gain enough exp to land me where I am now.\n\n\nI know reign as the most powerful being on the planet.\n\nI decide to go back to my hometown that I have not seen in 300 thousand years.\n\nI come to find it to be a wealthy nation now, my father has a plaque in his honor in the mountain cave where he had died, wealthy traders and buyers come. But, memories come back to me as a kid.\n\nLife is boring now, No monsters to slay, no challenges to face. What do I do?\n\nmillions years later I rank up again to find an option\n\n\"Open the doors to...\"\n\nThats what it said, it was a button, I press it.\n\nInstantly a new set of doors open with a letter\n\n\"Warning: Passing through this you might not come back, This is new game+. More monsters, more exp, a fresh start. A new challenge awaits.\"\n\nI decide to go, I bring my wife and we set sail for a new adventure! never to return again. My wife was also bored, we were explorers back in the day but now there's nothing to explore\n\nWe enter and the doors slammed shut, a timer counts down....\n\n\n",
"I have lasted in this realm for millennia. Nothing stands in my way anymore. And that is the ultimate problem.\n\nI once started as a conqueror, then I became their beloved king. This went on for many centuries with many rebellions quelled under my absolute might. But something has happened to me in the last few decades. I have lost the will to live, but in my pursuit of power and stability, lost the ability to die.\n\nThat's all I strive for now. However, in my ascension to pseudo-godhood, I have an endless supply of pride. I want to die, but it must be at the hands of someone great, someone mightier than myself! But that's impossible! I've lived so long that it's literally unfathomable for anyone to have a way to surpass me!\n\nI have learned much of the willpower of my people over the time I've spent ruling over them. They make impossible odds stack in their favor in terrifying situations. As a result, I find that the only way to be killed is to have all my people turn on their beloved king. Formerly beloved now. \n\nI called for a meeting with the mayors of all of my kingdom. They were expecting a jovial occasion as usual, but I threw weapons at their feet as soon as they entered the door. \"Kill me or be killed\" I said. They looked at eachother with mischievous glances, waiting on their king to explain the joke. So I tore off one's head.\n\nAmidst the mayhem, I didn't take so much as a blow. But they were inconsequential. It was their cities, their families, their children that I wanted to swear revenge upon me.\n\nIt has been sixty decades and I long to lose my pride or my life, but neither leaves me without a fight. I have cut off an abhorrent amount of bloodlines in an effort to end my own. My people hate me as much as I do now. My only solace, is that some have the decency to describe what it feels like as their souls exit this plane. I may have lost my humanity, but I still have motivation to end this.",
"\"Grandson, I present to you - the Craghollow Peaks!\"\n\nThe boy surveyed the area. The barren wasteland was level as far as the eye could perceive. Boulders no larger than a house littered the field.\n\n\"But grampa, I don't see them! Where are the mountains?\" cried the boy.\n\n\"Sit with your grandfather here, and I will tell you a great story.\n\n\"Once upon a time when I was a young boy - not that much older than you, I came face to face with the most powerful warrior to ever walk these lands..\"\n\n\"Doombringer!\" cried the small boy as he raised his hands into the air.\n\n\"Yes grandson, Doombringer. I saw him with my own two eyes. You see, back a long time ago this used to be a small valley between two very large mountains. There used to be one over here and another, larger one over there,\" said the grandfather, gesturing.\n\n\"Anyway, one day I saw Doombringer had climbed the highest mountain - where you could see all of the land if you looked out into the distance from the peak - and he had challenged allllll of the dragons that used to live here.\"\n\n\"He was running and shouting at a *thousand* dragons,\" he continued.\n\n\"A thousand? Is that more than a hundred?\" the small boy asked, wide eyed.\n\n\"Yes grandson, many more than a hundred.\"\n\nThe small child's eyes were open in terror and awe.\n\n\"Once allllll of the dragons came to fight him, he ran down the mountain with the dragons following him. Once he got to the bottom, he raised his mighty sword and began to fight all of the dragons at once!\"\n\n\"Did he get hurt, grampa?\" the small boy asked.\n\n\"Oh, I imagine he maybe got burned a couple of times, or maybe got scratched by a dragon's claw, but in the end he killed every single dragon that used to live here.\"\n\n\"Hooray!\" shouted the small boy.\n\n\"It was a wondrous feat, yes, but then Doombringer became bored,\" replied the boy's grandfather.\n\n\"Bored? Like when I am at school?\" the small boy asked.\n\n\"Yes, and so he saw me and he came over to me. He was so tall, and his armor was covered in dragon blood. He smelled strange, and there were glowing lights in his eyes!\"\n\n\"He said to me (in a gruff voice), 'You there, I am bored. Tell me what else to slay.',\" said the grandfather.\n\n\"Did he kill more stuff?\" asked the boy.\n\n\"No grandson, there was nothing left to kill. So, being very afraid - and remember, I was just about your age, I told him, 'I...I'm sorry, but all we have are these mountains now.'\"\n\n\"And do you know what he did grandson? He used his mighty blade to chop down every single mountain in the area. He would chop allllll day and alllll night. It was really loud!\" said the grandfather.\n\n\"But where did the mountains go? I don't see them!\" the small boy squeaked.\n\n\"Grandson, these large rocks *were* the mountain! He chopped them all down! And when they were really really large rocks, he smashed those too until there were only a few left. Some say he grew bored with smashing mountains into pebbles he chopped down an entire forest and drank an entire sea.\"\n\n\"Where is he now grampa?\" asked the small boy.\n\n\"Noone knows, grandson. But if you ask me, maybe he got bored and went away to another place where he can slay dragons and kill monsters an...\"\n\nThere was a deafening bang and the great warrior god, Doombringer stood over them, sword in hand.\n\n#\"I HAVE RETURNED. YOU, OLD MAN, TELL ME WHAT FOE NEEDS SLAYING. SHOW ME THE GREAT EVIL THAT CONSUMES THE LIFE HERE. GIVE. ME. SOMETHING. TO. KILL.\"",
"\"No, Tim, Tim, Its Fir-A not Fir-Gah, And your magical speech was a little off. Maybe chant it just a little faster\" Gary yelled at his student. \n\nGary sighed and sent his students to the library well he reflected on his life. \n\nGary the Great, they had called him. everyone had cheered when he would come to town. That was in the old days. Now people just walked on by. The children didn't even want to listen to his stories anymore. \n\nGary would just sit around all day doing nothing. Killing anything was just to easy. He had a billion gold saved up because of his quest and most merchants would give him the prices he wanted to pay. It use to be so much fun for Gary. The thrill of fighting with the merchants for getting the best price. The Thrill of fighting creatures that could kill him at any moment. Now he was bored all the time. He could kill anything he had found. Not even worried for his life. He use to go around in groups with others. Now no one wanted to fight creatures with him because he killed them so easily.\n\nHe had been like this for months, but then it hit him. He could train enemies that might be a challenge. It might take some time but he would make enemies that would be on base with him. He started a school for \"Hero's\" but he made sure to ask each person lots of questions before he let him join. Picking those who would most likely go from Hero to villain. \n\nHis only problem was most of them sucked. He was a master of all, But the students seemed to only be good at one or two things each, I mean they were really good above there level but he hated it. He had most of his students weaknesses already one spell and most would be simple to defeat. \n\nBut Hey Gary thought it beat just sitting around.\n\nNow to find those students again they will not become masterminds just sitting there. Gary thought.\n",
"The firey pits of Hellwrath bellowed in rage as gigantic Gigaworm exploded from the lava screeching in murderous fury. You know if it's spawning animation wasn't so incredibly long I would appreciate how cool this all was but if I'm supposed to 100% this game I still need to kill another 5 of these things and they each have over a minute spawning time. I mean I waste 27 minutes waiting for all of them to just become targetable, it's like the developers think I've nothing better to do with my life.\n\nThe Gigaworm begins with a standard Fire Spit. Dodge, now I just start spamming ice blasts as fast as I can interrupting the Floor Rip attack as it's forced to enter the second stage as it drops below 50% hp. I activate hover and ignore the fact that the floor is now LITERALLY lavaand continue to ice blast. Fire Spit. Dodge. Meteor strike. Dodge. Dodge. Dodge. Stage 3. Now the other 4 heads are visible and that gives me the ability to do 400% more damage per second at the risk- Gigaworm dead.\n\nI can't actually remember what the risk is now I think about it. I think it unleashes a barrage of Fire Spits and Lava Plumes but it's not important.\n\nI quick travel to Maldan and walk through the charred hole in the wall of the castle. I had actually expected the boss fight in this area to be a lot harder considering the Dragon was supposed to be strong enough to melt stone, but Y'ulg Fire Armour and a Resistance Shield meant he did half damage on every single attack and that was that really. I hear the cries of innocent peons and sigh as I realise a Furious Might-Titan has attacked the city.\n\nOne of the hardest enemies in the entire game. An armour rating of 1250, the ability to slow, freeze, melt, chill, swallow, throw, stun, silence- It doesn't matter, they've a weakspoint so if you equip a 400+ Integrity weapon then do a Meteor Slash with the Unstoppable Fall passive active you just bounce around on their head until they die without being in range of a single attack they can cast. He dies, I pick up a few nice items but to be honest I only need the Sword of the Forsaken Forefathers, 2 more Chaos Gems and a Sinscaled Turtle Neck before I don't even need to check drops anymore.\n\nI cast a flight spell and soar in the direction of the next Gigaworm bef-\n\nWAIT. A new quest! I missed something in the Mountain of Quqaton! Holy shit this area was added in the new patch I totally forgot to look. It might have a new dungeon I wasn't aware of, maybe a better belt piece to go with this set, hell maybe it's a secret Monster Slayer addition I wasn't aware of. \n\nI arrive on the ground and see a house covered in moss and bones. That means a soothsayer lies inside. Fuck yes! I quickly barge in and see an old man sat in the middle of the room. Z'zeth Katanas line the wall, Mammoth skulls sit carved into chairs and a Hammer of Khall lies perched against a wall. The whole place looks full of mystique and intrigue and I excitedly park my character down in front of the soothsayer. My character is maxed in every stat so does the necessary introductions to gain respect with the Soothsayer and his ancient traditions before handing him an Amulet of Greater Faith to prove my trustworthiness.\n\n\"Ah. I see my friend. Then maybe you are the adventurer that can finally help me with my problem. You see... wolves patrol this area and leave my unable to create my favourite brand of tea. Could you help out an old man?\"\n\n**QUEST AVAILABLE: TEA FOR AN OLD MAN -- Obtain 5 Lulu Leaves. (OPTIONAL: Kill 6 Dire Wolves)**\n\n**RECOMMENDED LEVEL: 5**\n\n...\n\nFuck this game. I'm going to go play CoD.\n\nEDIT: Want to spoiler the Quest but can't find out how to do on this sub",
"He sat upon a pile of bodies and brooded as the dying flames emitted smoke and obscured the landscape. The carrion birds hovered overhead and eyed the still-warm flesh which carpeted the field below. Scores of warriors, their blades keen and their bloodlust unparalleled, had gathered to do battle that day and had fallen in mere seconds like blades of grass against a scythe. The last man had fallen, both hands removed clean from his wrists, his lifeblood pouring from the stumps jutting from his forearms as he stared in disbelief at the bringer of his doom. A mere child, delicate features evoking an innocence seemingly blessed by the angels themselves, but radiating a sinister power from his body like a dark aura. He had with a casual swipe of his arms from a distance decapitated a line of men with ease. What was more frightening than the monstrous force he wielded was that the only emotion he betrayed was boredom.\n\nThe boy sighed and looked towards the heavens, his azure eyes reflecting the eternal blue. He lifted his piping voice upwards in confrontation.\n\n“Is this the best you have to offer? Am I cursed to forever toy with weaklings?”\n\nIf the heavens comprehended the boy’s treaty there was no sign. Its only response was the changing flight pattern of the carrion birds as they began their descent. Soon they would glut themselves on the decomposing bodies which were littered like autumn leaves. The boy cursed them, no more than opportunistic leeches feeding off his efforts. Just like the rest of the pathetic creatures around him, swift to boast but dissolving like quicksand at the slightest touch. He had challenged this last bunch after he had disposed of a group of their kinsman in a neighbouring state, hoping in vain that they would provide better sport. As always he was disappointed. All he wished for was a stronger opponent, an enemy to bring perspiration to his brow and palpitations to his heart. Yet he had traveled across the land, destroying any and all, until the bounties placed upon his head grew so large that many nations were forced to pool their treasuries to keep up with the rise in value. None he faced caused him to exert any noticeable effort. \n\nThe boy faced a grim truth; his power had grown to such a level that he was, for all intents and purposes, a god. No mortal creature on earth could touch him. Whereas he had enjoyed the thrill that domination and victory had initially brought, now he was weary of the constant repetition his existence had become. What had started as hand to hand combat with one opponent had grown to drawn out battles with a gang of men, and as his power magnified so did the number of opponents until he was facing small battalions and crushing them with ease. Soon he would face the might of whole armies, and when he decimated them he would have no one left to fight. Only the cold embrace of a self-inflicted death would remain. If there was such a thing as fate, the boy thought, it had weaved a cruel irony over the web of his life.\n\nThe carrion birds had landed, many of them plucking eyeballs and pecking at meaty morsels. One bird however was ignoring the smorgasbord and approaching the boy with curious little hops. He considered evaporating it, but its beady eyes which stared unwavering into his own stayed his hand. It hopped closer and closer until it was sitting at his feet and cawed before flapping its wings in a strange, almost contemptuous manner. From under its wing dropped a glistening jewel of opaque ebon. It cawed once more and took flight without a second glance.\n\nThe boy stooped to pick up the bird’s offering. It was oddly heavy, although its heft in the palm of his hand was no worse than a pebble. It seemed to hum with unexpressed potential. Its cut was complex, carved to show twenty smooth faces, each face with a symbol engraved in silver. He was unable to discern the meaning of the symbols, the straight lines and sweeping curves barbaric and alien. It was clearly a magical artifact, the bird a disguised valkyrie sent by the gods to answer his rude prayer. But nothing he did caused it to activate. He focused his power upon it, enveloping it in a miasma of force so thick that it would have caused a man’s skull to implode, and yet it remained in the centre of the maelstrom as benign as any rock. He tried everything he could think of, and in frustration cast it in the dirt at his feet. It bounced a few times and landed, the symbol facing upwards similar to a cross in appearance.\n\nSuddenly a blazing golden light shot out of the stone and enveloped the boy until his sight was completely absorbed. He thought he had been blinded and raged as he shook his head. After an eternity his vision cleared and when he noticed his surroundings he gasped. \n\nHe was standing in a familiar alley, a filthy backstreet with stinking refuse lining the walls. Behind him was a staunch barrier of brick and mortar preventing his escape, in front a scoundrel of giant size brandishing a shillelagh with rusted nails embedded into the business end. The boy well remembered him, as the scoundrel was the first opponent he’d defeated. \n\nThe boy shrugged and swiped, releasing a slash of energy. He guessed that the magic of the stone had transported him into his past. The scoundrel bore the energy slash across his chest and instead of bursting into flames laughed it off and stalked towards him. The boy threw three more blasts of energy with the same result. It was then that he realized the gift the magic stone had conferred upon him. A chance to start again, his current power intact in a world where his former enemies had quadrupled in strength. The gods had answered his prayers. He smiled, his heart warming as a long-forgotten battle-lust stirred once more. He gritted his teeth and charged.\n"
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[WP] You are a Vegan who, one day, wakes up to find yourself with the ability to read the thoughts and feelings of Plants.
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"\"Woah there Oakie keep your roots to yourself!\" Tammy always woke up to talk radio. It was a relic, sure, but nothing scared you awake like old men yelling about the new generation. She rubbed her face and stretched her legs up, cracking at least half her spine.\n\n\"Great...another day without meat.\" Tammy flipped her tone, \"'Tammy try my Vegan sister's roomate's cousin's aunt's diet- she lost like three pounds in a week with it!' My friends are the worst...\" She let the thought simmer and shook her head letting her negativity escape hopefully.\n\n\"I'd tear those leaves up nah-what-I-mean?\" The radio commentators were acting especially strange. Normally they were screaming about some club venue that just opened and was also about to shut down in bankruptcy or a pair of tickets to some concert halfway across the continental US. Tammy reached her hand out and snoozed the alarm clock.\n\n\"You know me, I'm a flower/ bark kinda dicot. You monocots got some strange thoughts.\" Tammy hit the radio again, that snooze button can be rather sticky.\n\n\"Okay what's on today's schedule? Some delicious kale and tofu....then some pomegranate seeds, yum...and oh right bark chips for my mid day snack probably. Two more days Tammy, you can do it. The race is almost over. Virginia may not have believed you could be vegan for two weeks but damn it if she's not wrong!\" Tammy got off her bed and ran a hand through her hair. She stumbled down the stairs to the kitchen. Her father was up and snacking on some bacon, the world was obviously taunting her. \"Could you devour that so I don't hate myself please?\"\n\n\"Oh honey, I'm sorry. You're doing so well, I would hate to be the one to talk you into biting into this apple...that's the pigs job!\" Her father said, he laughed. \"Do you see what I did there? Cus the pig would be eating the apple...on a spit...and temptation was...nevermind.\" He shoved the last few pieces of bacon in his mouth and washed the plate in the sink.\n\n\"Yo, look at that violet over there man? You see her? She's getting green- I'm gonna hit her up.\" Tammy turned to the window, the same voices from her radio were coming from outside now.\n\n\"oh good morning Mr.Conifer. Isn't it a beautiful day to bloom?\" A slightly more female voice came from the window now. Tammy walked over to the ledge and looked out, there wasn't a radio in sight.\n\n\"Dad...do you hear like...radio commentary?\"\n\n\"Nope. Seems you've finally been driven insane.\" Her dad replied. A loud whirring sound came from upstairs just as his last syllable escaped.\n\n\"Good good good morning San Fran Thank you Ma'am! It's your crew from WKY2 bringing you some morning traffic news!\" The voice bounced down the steps. \n\n\"I thought I already turned that off...\" Tammy said. She pulled out a small pack of tofu from the fridge.\n\n\"Oh now I hear it honey. That San Fran crew is crazy!\" Her father walked behind her, kissed her on the cheek and waved goodbye. Tammy heard the door swing open and it felt like hundreds of radio stations buzzed into her head at the same time.\n\n\"Spores are gross! I'll never take those into my petals!\"\n\"This deer took a real bite out of me last night, we need some repellent like when those pepper brothers were here.\"\n\"Girl I want some a' your pollen- you down?\"\n\"if those mammals take one more premature fruit off me I'm gonna...\"\n\nTammy fell to the floor, covering her ears. She rocked back and forth for a few minutes before gaining control. \"That's it, I need meat. The bet isn't worth this kind of insanity, I'm full on hallucinating...and for what? A few pounds less and not having to wear all brown the first day of school? Ugh.\" Tammy stood up, one hand still on her ear, and opened the fridge. She found sliced turkey and ripped the package open. She devoured it like a vulture over a freshly hit possum. The radio stations started to lower in volume with each bite, once she was done with the whole package, it was peaceful silence once again. \"It's good to be a carnivore again...\" Tammy said, finishing the bag of turkey and letting it drop safely into the trash can.",
"See full: http://kvgunderson.tumblr.com/post/124864581363/herbivore-no-more\n\nI am surely on the verge of death. It has been nearly two weeks since I last ate and I fear that I won’t be able to go on much longer. My head feels as if its been placed in a vice slowly tightening its grip about my skull, the pain never dulling. The hunger pangs strike at random, piercing my internal organs and flesh like the stabs of an ice pick by some sadistic captor. But that is the least of my worries right now. I write this message while hiding from a horde of blood-thirsty fruits and vegetables outside.\n\nThe hunger has taken its toll on my faculties, but I am exerting my last remaining strength to relay this message in hopes it may save others from the grave future that is to come. Some may discount these accounts as the hallucinations of a starving man, but I assure you that everything I am about to tell you came to pass beginning on one fateful day two weeks ago.\n\n—\n\nThe day began like any other. I was preparing my go-to daily breakfast of blueberry oatmeal with a sliced banana. I had made the same breakfast for nearly a decade since I first became a devoted vegan. It was a delicious, hearty meal that always got me started out on the right foot - belly full and ready to take on the challenges of the day, without any of the guilt of consuming the product of another sentient creature. That was all about to end…\n\nAs I placed the bowl of oatmeal within the microwave and pressed start, I heard a sound that will haunt me until my last day. It was a shriek so shrill and filled with such immense desperation that I was immediately stricken with terror. I rushed to turn off the microwave. Silence was immediately returned.\n\nI looked around nervously not sure of what I had heard. Was I imagining it all? I opened the front door of the apartment and peeked out into the hallway to see if perhaps the blood-curdling scream came from someone in grave danger. I looked out to see my neighbor Katrina calmly walking by.\n\n“Katrina, did you just hear a scream?” I asked with dripping sweat still fresh on my face.\n\n“No, I didn’t hear anything. Are you alright Cal?”, she replied.\n\n“Ya, just thought I heard something, that’s all.”, I said while closing the door and returning to the microwave.\n\nWith some hesitation I finally brought myself to click the “start” button again. This time there were no screams, only the familiar hum of the microwave heating the food.\n\nI exhaled a sigh of relief, walked to the refrigerator and grabbed a banana and a bowl of blueberries and placed them on the counter. When the microwave timer sounded, I retrieved the bowl of hot oatmeal and placed it next to the fruits on the counter.\n\nI poured the blueberries into the oatmeal and peeled the banana. I was just about to cut the first slice of the banana when I heard these words clearly spoken…\n\n“Haven’t you killed enough for one day?”\n\nI looked around in a panic. I tightened my grip on the knife and walked slowly through the kitchen to the living room in search of an intruder. Nothing. I walked back to the kitchen when I heard it again.\n\n“You killed them. You killed them all.”, the voice said plainly.\n\nI looked around the kitchen in terror looking for the source of the voice.\n\n“Murderer!” I heard several voices exclaim in condemnation. These voices sounded different than the first.\n\n“Genocide!”, the cries grew louder.\n\n“WHO ARE YOU!?” I cried.\n\n“Who are YOU? You stripped me naked and were about to stick a knife through me and you’re the one who is upset? Sociopath.”, the voice said.\n\n“SOCIOPATH!”, other voices exclaimed.\n\nI looked down at the banana in stunned silence. It took me another moment to gain back my wits enough to respond.\n\n“What are you talking about?”, I asked.\n\n“The oats. You killed them. You boiled them alive, did’t you hear their cries?”, the banana said.\n\nI looked down at the oatmeal. It looked no different than any other bowl of oatmeal I’d ever eaten before.\n\n“You can’t fool me. This isn’t the first time you’ve done it. Have you no conscience? Entire FAMILIES of oats, boiled alive! You’re sick!”, the banana exclaimed.\n\n“SICK! YOU’RE SICK!”, the other voices chimed in. To my horror, I realized that these voices came from the blueberries in the oatmeal.\n\n“How is this happening?”, I said out loud to noone in particular.\n\n“Are you honestly going to pretend you hadn’t heard our cries before now?” The banana said in a mocking tone.\n\n“This isn’t happening. I’m not going to pretend to talk to a banana and a bunch of blueberries.” I said. I must have been having a flashback, I thought. I had tried LSD a few times in college. That had to be it. I did my best to quell the panic and confusion within me and grabbed the knife again.\n\nIt’s only a hallucination Cal, just make your breakfast, I thought to myself.\n\nI began slicing into the banana.\n\n“You truly are as evil as they say!”, it yelled, followed by several shrieks before it was silent once more.\n\nI put the banana slices in the bowl and began eating the oatmeal, doing my best to block out of my mind what had just occurred. Overcome with nausea, I could only eat a few bites before I had to discard most of the bowl. Still nauseous, I finished getting dressed and headed out to work.\n\n—\n\nAll morning long I couldn’t concentrate on my work. I was trying to finish a report for my supervisor, but my mind kept going back to breakfast. The banana’s condemning words. Those horrifying screams. Could it be true? Could these fruits and plants be just as alive and conscious as the poor animals I refused to eat?\n\nAs the clock creeped closer to noon, my anxiety grew. I usually looked forward to my fresh kale salad, but today there was only dread.\n\nI grabbed the bowl of kale salad out of the office kitchen refrigerator and walked outside to the small park bench by the pond where I usually ate lunch. The bench was shaded by a large elm tree that had stood there for generations.\n\nMy fingers trembled as I tried to remove the lid from the glass bowl. With the lid removed, I looked down at the salad. Kale, chickpeas, shredded carrots, olives and walnuts all glistened with a glaze of cherry vinaigrette. It looked delicious as usual! My belly growled in anticipation, though my mind was still on edge from that morning’s experience.\n\nI got up enough nerve to thrust my fork my fork into the kale. At that moment, I heard a scream of anguish and despair.\n\n“Please have mercy on us!” the kale yelled.\n\nI looked down, my throat clenched tight.\n\n“It’s the bringer of death!”, one of the chickpeas proclaimed.\n\nI heard loud sobbing and cries coming from the collection of vegetables below.\n\n“What great evil! He has trapped us in this pit with the dismembered pieces of our carrot friends and the blood of cherry brothers and sisters and now he comes to dine upon our flesh!”, an olive proclaimed.\n\nI felt innumerable emotions overcome me, but confusion strongest of all. I opened my mouth to let out a meek gasp.\n\n“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to hurt you”, I said.\n\n“LIES! We have seen what you have done to our friends and family before us!”, the kale yelled.\n\n“I…”\n\n“Don’t torment us any longer, make it quick if you have any good left in you at all!”, a chickpea screamed.\n\n“I don’t know what to say. I don’t want to hurt you. I am only trying to eat. I need to eat to survive. I used to eat meat long ago, but I couldn’t live myself knowing the great pain I brought upon those creatures. I didn’t think plants could feel pain.”, I tried to reason with them as best I could.\n\nThe vegetables in the salad quieted down for a moment, when I heard an olive speak.\n\n“You must eat to survive?”, the olive asked before letting out a loud cackle. “HA! We’ve seen the look of great joy that comes over your face as you’ve torn our kind to shreds and consumed their flesh! Admit it, you enjoy eating us!”\n\n“I, umm… Yes, I do like to eat fruits and vegetables, but please understand it’s not something I just do for fun. I’m not a sadist. If I knew it was a source of pain, I’d… Well, I don’t know, I DO need to eat to survive.”, I said.\n\n“Fuck you, just get on with it already, spare us the sob story!”, a chickpea blurted.\n\n“We don’t believe you”, the olive said, “Why would a creature such as yourself need to eat us to survive? The rays of the sun sustain us, surely it must be enough for you as well!”\n\n“That’s not how it works. The sun provides energy to plants such as yourself, yes, but we require the energy from other creatures to survive.” I tried to explain.\n\n“Enough with your propaganda!”, the kale shouted.\n\n“That all sounds rather barbaric,” the olive said. “Why would this be the case? Why isn’t the sun’s energy enough for your kind? Do you have any proof of your claims?”\n\n“Well, I… ahhh… I mean all the sunlight gives me is a sunburn. I can’t live on that alone. Plants like you get energy from the sun through a process known as photosynthesis. I’m not a scientist, I can’t really explain the whole thing in great detail, but basically you convert the sunlight into energy for you to live. And animals, like us, eat the energy that you create to keep us alive.” I said.\n\n“So you have no proof, eh? The kale is right, it’s just more animal propaganda! And even if what you say is true, it makes your kind nothing more than murderous thieves. What right do you have to OUR energy? And to take it from us through such savage methods!?” the olive erupted.\n\nI had never considered this perspective before. The olive had a point, it was their energy, their life, after all. But what could I do, eating SOMETHING was essential if I was to survive.\n",
"I remember running through the meat aisles of stores, disgusted by everything I saw. I couldn't help it, it was always too vulgar. I had a vegetable garden, which was almost all of my backyard. I grew everything, and in my spare moments, I would sit in the corner of my yard that wasn't busy growing everything from tomatos to chives and reflect on their progress. Boring, I know, but everyone in town seemed to have a meat addiction.\nOne day, I fell asleep in that corner of my garden. It had been a busy day at work, filing papers for a man that reaked of hotdog. It was a beautiful day, the sun was shining, the garden flourishing, and my neighbors were on vacation, so it was mostly silent. The grass seemed to be a perfect spot to just doze off at. \nI was woken up by unrecognizable voices. At first, I waved them off, I was tired, and it was unlikely anyone would come looking for me. Until I started realizing that they were addressing me. \n\"Ma'am, are you going to get off Joe anytime soon?\" asked an annoyed voice. I looked around, I was still alone in my garden. It was just me and my plants. I must have imagined it. The sun was setting. I had just slept the whole day away.\nMy stomach growled, and reluctantly, I got up to grab a tomato to snack on. When my hand was around my snack, a juicy one I had been waiting to let grow some more, someone started shouting at me. \"Don't you get ANYWHERE near my baby! Like I don't know you spit out the seeds and let them die unplanted!\"\nI stumbled backwards, letting the tomato fall out of my hand. It had bounced to the ground, rolling through the chives, jumping on a few carrots, and landing in a lavendar. \nOnce again, the deep voice that had woken me up vocalized out of nowhere, \"You gonna get this fat child off me?\" Slowly, the whole garden seemed to wake up, I could feel the annoyance. The high pitched voice that had shouted at me earlier started pouting. Soon, my whole yard was full of groggy shouts. I couldn't believe it, the plants could talk. \nI slowly picked up the tomato that had rolled away, and I was rewarded with a curt thank you. I took a bite out of the fruit, and slowly inched towards my backdoor. The mother of the tomato was wailing, but the rest of the garden seemed to forget about it, and instead started socializing. I couldn't take it anymore, I ran inside. The kitchen was worse. The salad demanded sunlight, the apples gossiped about the cherries, who seemed to be competing with eachother. The blueberries flirted amongst each other, while a potato I had only half peeled seemed to be embarrased. \nI ran upstairs to my room, tomato still in hand, and slammed the door behind me. I immediatley started looking up city apartments.",
"I didn't wake up to the sun in my face this morning, the warmth thru the curtains wasn't there. I awoke because there was a loud roar in my home, was there a home invasion going on? Hesitantly, armed with a tennis racket, I creep to the source. MY KITCHEN?! but it's empty no one is here, doors closed, windows shut. As I get closer the roar slips into agony and screams. The tennis racket slides from my grip and bounces on the tile, the only sound other then the screams. It's my fridge. I rip the fridge door open, and there is was, just pure agony and pain, cries for help. this feeling is heavy, but familiar. \n\nThe last time I felt this I was visiting a dairy farm, the day I gained the ability to read the thoughts and feeling of animals, this wasnt some doctor dolittle shit, this was animals fighting depressions louder than the milking pumps. they were caged, mistreated, and miserable. this is the reason I became vegan because, despite the ads these weren't happy cows. \n\nI snapped back to my fridge now shouting at me. you see a cow, a chicken, a fish only has emotions as long as it's alive but these fucking plants they are still alive, they are alive as long as their cells are green. but now that i can hear their agony, the pain of being cut off of your roots yet still living, it was terrible. I quickly cooked everything in my fridge, EVERYTHING. I tossed it all, I can't eat any of this, not after it just screamed for help. \n\nThat's it, I'm going back to meat. I'm not going to starve because every food source has a damn voice. But at least with meat when it's in my fridge it's dead, I'm a carnivore now because at least I can shut them up.",
"\"Ooooohhhh honey you best be waking up now, the days beginning\"\n\n\"Ugh Gloria what did I say about waking me up at specific times, not just when the sun comes up\"\n\nI sat up in bed, glancing out the window, the surrounding landscape barely illuminated by the morning sun. I should not have to deal with this everyday. \n\n\"Mmmm mmm! Feel them rays hitting my petals. Nothing better than a heapful of dawn sun ta get your day started!\"\n\nI could not give a shit about how photosynthesis felt, the fact punctuated by the early time my alarm clock read. Every single morning I reminded Gloria of this fact, but I found out suprisingly fast that some plants could barely speak, let alone remember basic instructions. Swallowing whatever anger I had towards the flower, I reminded myself that her single sun cycle memory gave me at least one plant to have a little companionship with. Fatigue from sleep still deeply infused throughout my body, I moved with zombie-like grace to Gloria's clay pot.\n\n\"Mmmmm, thank ya honey\", Gloria mused, oooo'ing and ahhh'ing in approval as I drained the contents of her watering can onto the pot's soil. Gloria and her morning ritual's were one of the lone comforts I took from my strange ability to speak to plants. The rest of my day would consist of much less pleasant conversation than this. I rustled through my dresser, throwing on some basic shorts and a t-shirt, before walking into my kitchen. The grin of family love Gloria gave me fading as the future of my day awaited me, just like all the others. I threw some frozen blueberries, strawberries, and ice cubes into my blender, and created one of the lone things in my vegan diet I enjoyed. The purple fruit smoothie I plopped into a nearby glass was a token of my ability to talk with plants, as well as a private joke I had with myself. Years ago during my senior year of college, a girl I had been trying to sleep with managed to convince me of the benefits of a fully vegan diet. I tolerated the mashed bits of fruits the best, quickly tiring of salad everyday. Three months later I found out that blonde was not her natural hair color, and that my plant only eating habits let me speak with them. Since then I've improved the amount of veggies I eat, but fruit smoothies are still my favorite. I downed the drink and mentally prepared myself for the on coming barrage. Heading to the staircase that attached my apartment to the storefront beneath, the distant murmuring of voices grew. My footsteps echoed down, I knew even if I tried a silent approach they would still hear me. The voices quieted as I slotted the key in to unlock the door, and I paused. I hesistated, wondering if the power to speak to plants was worth the advantage it gave me in my job. I opened the door and walked into the cooled room.\n\n\"Murderer!\"\n\"Butcher!\"\n\"Killer!\"\n\nThe flowers and plants around me all screamed out. I should have never opened a flower store.",
"Sarah slumped through the hallway trying to rub the grogginess from her eyes. She was too tired to go to the park and do yoga, but maybe some breakfast would help. She opened her refrigerator then slammed it shut with a sudden yelp. She blinked her eyes, wondering if she was hallucinating, but she could have sworn she heard voices when she opened the door. \n\n\"Better make it a coffee.\" She muttered. She opened the cabinet and began to fix herself a cup. She opened the window for some fresh air. \n\n\"Aw, yeah.\" She heard a voice say. She looked around, the street was empty. A breeze blew through. \"Aw yeah, yeah take it.\" She leaned out the window and took a look around, still no people in sight. The breeze came again, \"Aw, aw fuck yeah spread my seed you slut.\" \n\n\"What the fuck...\" Sarah whispered. Her eyes focused on the tree planted on the sidewalk of her street. The voice sounded like it was coming from there. \n\n\"Hey quit blocking the sun you fuckin' moron!\" A smaller voice suddenly shouted from below. \n\nSarah looked down, her shadow cast over her plotted flowers she kept outside of the window. \n\n\"Yeah you, dumbass. You're blocking my light. How about getting me some water while you're at it, didn't rain a fucking drop last night!\" The flower, apparently, demanded. \n\n\"I-I-\" She stammered. \n\n\"Yeah get me some too.\" The flower to the left of the first said. A bee suddenly buzzed towards the flowers. The flower whistled, \"Yeahh, baby come over here and get what I got built up for ya' don't me shy I want you to give it to that blue fox two houses down. Tell her I said hello, huh? hah! hah!\" All the flowers joined the second in hooting and laughing. Coaxing the bee to come get some pollen. \n\nSarah slammed the window shut, her fingers gripping her forehead, \"What's going on. Am I high?\" She wondered. She looked back to the fridge. She hesitated for a few minutes before opening it again, and was met with the barrage of voices. \n\n\"There she is. Come over here and eat me before I fall out of my prime.\" said an orange, \"Yeah that's right peel me open and be sure to poop my seeds somewhere with a lot of sun.\" \n\nSarah stared at the orange with her mouth hung open. \"You...want me to-\"\n\n\"Did I stutter? c'mon get this done I ain't got all week here. Two, three days tops.\" The orange said, his tone becoming more aggressive. \n\n\"I don't...eat the seeds I pick them out.\" Sarah said. \n\n\"Oh treesus, what's the point if you eat the seeds I can't reproduce if you don't eat them!\" The orange shouted. \n\nSarah quickly reached past the orange and took the bag of carrots. \"Well if you weren't suck a dick about it.\" She grumbled, still coming to terms with the fact that she was arguing with an Orange. She shut the fridge and took the carrots to her kitchen table. She was feeling light headed. To her dismay when she opened the bag of baby carrots there were even more voices. \n\n\"Eat us! Eat us! do it! Pick me!\" The tiny voices urged. \n\nSarah lifted a small carrot with a trembling hand, \"W-W-Well I mean if you want me too.\" \n\n\"Aw, fuck yeah. Do it. It's my purpose, put me in your mouth!\" The carrot shouted. \n\nSarah hesitated, then slowly edged the orange vegetable towards her lips, trying to ignore the oddly excited carrot. I mean, if it wants to be eaten then she shouldn't feel bad, right? She crunched down. \n\n\"OH TREESUS! OH GOD IT HURTS!\" The carrot shouted. \n\n\"Oh my god I'm sorry!\" Sarah exclaimed, quickly rolling the carrot from between her molars. She went to take it out of her mouth, but instead heard laughing. \n\n\"I'm just kidding. This is fucking' awesome. Yeah!\" The voice sounded from within her mouth. \n\nSarah chewed a few more cautious bites. She wasn't feeling very hungry anymore as the carrot continued to laugh and jeer its trip down into her stomach. How much did she have to pulverize them to get them to shut up? Why did they like this so much?\n\n\"I need to take the edge off.\" She said to herself. \n\n\"Hey where you goin' baby?\" A carrot shouted as she stood and left the table. \n\nSarah entered her room and pulled her weed out of her sock drawer. \"Oh no.\" \n\n\"Heyyy look who it is. It's dark in there and it stinks.\"\n\n\"Yeah, stinks like us!\" \n\nThe weed nugs laughed. \n\nSarah took hold of one of the nugs and found her bowl. She had to keep her hands from trembling as she tried to light her lighter. Finally she had a flame and lowered it towards the happy green mass. \n\nThe nug screamed. \"Woah! Hey what are you- AHHH! THAT BURNS WHAT THE HELL!\" \n\nSarah quickly moved her lighter away. \n\n\"Oh my god, she's a monster!\" Another nug shouted. \"She's going to burn us alive!\" \n\n\"Well what am I supposed to do?!\" Sarah demanded, her eyes nearly welling with tears. \n\nThe nugs fell silent. \"Eat us.\"\n\n\"Ohhh, yeah. Make some edibles. Yeah that's what you should do!\" \n\nSarah screamed. "
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[WP] Terrorists/freedom-fighters hijack a head of state's plane and crash it. Two people survive: the world leader and a hijacker.
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"Air Force One slammed into North Korea at the speed of sound. Of course, it wasn't meant to travel that fast, but gravity is quite strong.\n\nAll of the Secret Service has died, and all rescue attempts are off - I am surrounded by hundreds of tanks, RPGs, and assault rifles. One small move, and they'll have to give the presidency to the Secretary of Transportation. Imagine that. Naturally, the terrorists already have plans to kill the whole line of succession should I try anything.\n\nI am helped into a chair by the other remaining survivor - Lee Hyung-Mun. He looks to be forty-five, fifty tops. His face is akin to that of a dead man. I look around and see most of the terrorists are thinner than most people I've seen.\n\n\"If it's power you want, I can let you colonise Canada or something. If it's money you want, I have a reserve fund of a few million in untraceable funds. If it's recognition, you can post on how you hold the US presidency in your hands. Just tell me this: Who do you work for?\"\n\n\"Ms. Mendoza, have you noticed that little Kim hasn't been around much? He's also been slimming down. Pretty strange for someone who loves to eat, no?\"\n\nIf they have Kim, they have... the fate of the world.\n\n\"What do you want in exchange for that ICBM?\"\n\n\"There is nothing in the world that can be exchanged for the Taepodong-7. It can reach anywhere in the world and has a 400-mile radius of destruction. Don't forget the MIRVs which can strike somewhere else in the world. Did I mention we have ten ICBMs?\"\n\n\"If you already know what you want, why don't you just get this over with? Nuke the world and spare me talking to you.\"\n\nA sharp crack echoes around what is left of the plane. My face stings.\n\n\"I just want you to push the button.\"\n\n\"Where are you launching the missiles?\"\n\n\"Oh, of course I will tell you in my need to make myself feel so much prouder of my achievements. You'll get a little message out to those countries and then they'll launch their own defenses, and my little plan will fail. \"\n\nA small blade sinks into the back of my arm. I can feel the blood dripping down into my jacket.\n\n\"Of course, Ms. Mendoza. I am not as stupid as you were when you were elected, but you got one thing right - North Korea doesn't really want to nuke the world. It's all just me.\"\n\n\"I will never bow down to your demands. You can torture me if you wish, but when you launch those nukes will be over my dead body. Don't forget it needs a heartbeat and a live iris to work.\"\n\n\"Don't worry, Ms. Mendoza. You can surrender and we won't launch the nukes. We'll just kill you and use Kim as the scapegoat. Everyone attacks Kim, Kim nukes the world. Same outcome. If you decide to commit suicide or trick someone here to kill you, we'll just use Kim as the scapegoat.\"\n\nThe sun slowly rises, and a ray of blinding light hits my eyes. I look around to see what reflected the sunlight. The football!\n\nLee must have realised this.\n\n\"Silly girl. You launch a little nuke here, we all die.\"\n\n\"It's better than the whole world dying.\"\n\n\"But just to make sure you don't get any ideas-\"\n\nAn explosion lights up the fuselage if not only for a few seconds, and I see the image of a man who has suffered too much in Lee's face.\n\n\"Lee, just how long has the Kim regime been making you and your family suffer?\"\n\n\"Far too long. That's why it's all going to end today.\"\n\n\"Listen. I can talk to Kim. Hell, even you can, since he's like your little dog tied to a leash in your hands.\"\n\n\"That changes everything too late and too little. He made my brothers and my friends and their families suffer through food shortages and slave labour. It's time for him to go. You're going to help by being the star of my little show. Here's the script.\"\n\nHe barks something in Korean, and a man is dragged forward in chains. The man is wearing a black shirt too big for him, and he looks like a doll in man's clothes.\n\nHe says something else. Kim protests, but he is dragged away.\n\n\"Kim-\"\n\nAnother sharp blow. I feel blood on my lips.\n\n\"We won't kill him just yet. We'll just give him a change of clothes so the world isn't shocked at what they see. Read the script and memorise it. Any little deviation, or those stupid Morse Code blinks, and those will be your last words. It would be a pity for your last words to be a slip-up, no?\"\n\nHe chuckles light-heartedly, but underneath the false happiness is the sad laughter of someone being told a joke before they die.\n\nThe script basically is that I say I've been captured by North Korean forces. Kim's part is all in Korean, so I don't understand a word of it. If I had to guess, it would be something along the lines of gloating about how he has the \"American pigs\" and whatnot.\n\nKim's back in more fitting clothes. He's screaming something at Lee. Maybe something cursing him and how he'll never go down like this? That's what I would do.\n\nKim screams out in pain, but I see no blood on him. Electricity.\n\nI guess I have no choice.\n\nI turn to face the camera. The cameraman gives me a three, two, one. Thumbs-up and a smile. Fuck him.\n\n\"I am Alexandra Mendoza, forty-fifth President of the United States of America. Air Force One has just been downed by North Korean forces. I am the last survivor.\"\n\nLee grins behind the camera. I take what may be my last breaths of air and continue.\n\n\"I-I do not want the world to retaliate against North Korea. Doing so would as-assure the whole world's destruction. Do not try any rescue attempts, for No-North K-\"\n\n \n\n**Lee's perspective**\n\n\"I told you she would mess up near the end. You guys owe me a pack of beer.\"\n\nThe Glock is still smoking. Kim's in shock. I guess someone will have to edit the clip somehow so it looks as though the whale doesn't react. Cameras stop rolling. Good.\n\nKim's angry. Awww, like a little hamster.\n\n\"Why have you done this? She was innocent!\"\n\n\"As innocent as you?\"\n\nAnother shot. Two world leaders in less than a minute. Two of the strongest, too.\n\n\"Park, Kang, Ri, we are finally free.\"\n\nI pressed the button and a mighty roar met my ears. It was the roar of a beast that was uncaged after years of slave-like conditions. It was the roar of a born-again lion. Ten missiles simultaneously launched from various locations in North Korea, and the brainwashed citizens cheered on state television.\n\nI turned the camera to face me and made it to transmit on all state frequencies.\n\n\"My fellow comrades, this is Lee Hyung-Mun, Vice Marshal of the Korean People's Army. I would like to announce that we are finally free.\"\n\nI turned the camera off. The citizens would think they were free of the Western pigs. I knew better.\n\nI cracked open a beer and waited for the missiles to rain down. They didn't disappoint.",
"\"So, we're stuck here.\"\n\n\"Yep.\"\n\nThe president of the United States walked around.\n\n\"Hey, I think there's a Chinatown over there. You wanna get some lunch?\"\n\n\"As long as it's not haram, sure.\"\n\nThe world was stunned, when Barack Obama was seen again 30 minutes later, with a martini in one hand, and the other holding Abu Bakr al-Baghdadi's hand."
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[WP] You go to the ATM to withdraw cash and find an extra 10 million dollars in your account. You then get a phone call.
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"\"Hh-hello?\"\nMy voice crackled as I answered. I was still in a state of awe. \n\nMost people don't randomly find $10,000,000 in their checking accounts overnight. \n\nLuck was something that I never really had; considering that I was born with cerebral palsy. It took me a while to realize that being handicap is really just a state of mind, and that anything most people could do, I could do too. The universe was a cruel mistress though. She didn't stop by giving me an unfair disadvantage. In the past year, my father and uncle died, and the thought of their deaths haunted me most nights. \n\nThe voice on the other line was calming and sincere, and sounding full of what seemed like guilt.\n\"Walter? This is Gretchen...\"\n\nI hung up, and threw my phone as far into the air as I could.\n\nI realized at that exact moment that this money would be the perfect way to escape the life my father had left for me.\n\n",
"Friday, every Friday, I tend to frequent a gentleman's establishment that caters to less than gentleman-like things. Lets just call a spade a spade, I'm at a strip club. The young lady groping my arm has body toned by palates and pole dancing, her proportions are perfect, her skin radiant in the dim smoke filled room occasionally highlighted by strobe lights that could send one into an epileptic seizure. \n\n\"Let me just hit the atm babe, I want to have you for a while.\" I yell over the thumping bass. Her only response is a false smile and a squeeze of my hand. \n\nI fumble my card into the slot, already thinking about her slot. Finally I tap my pin and stare in astonishment at the extra amount of zeroes that are displayed on the screen. Dumbfounded I turn my stare to the stripper, she is slack jawed looking at the the screen, eye aglow with passion. \n\nI am used to seeing several thousand dollars in my bank account, but not 10,000,000 dollars. Thats about 4 extra zeroes than normal. \n\nI am snapped out of the stupor by the ringing of my phone. I look at the unknown number and hit decline. A text message arrives right away, also from an unknown number. Thats not possible you cant send messages from unknown numbers. I open it. \n\n\"Answer the phone.\" Was all it read. \n\nBefore I can finish reading the message the phone rings again, this time I answer. \n\n\"I see you received the funds, excellent. Now you have two choices. One, you kill the stripper next to you. Two, you die the moment you leave this establishment. Enjoy.\"\n\nI let the young brunette lead me into the VIP room.",
"\"His Royal Highness Prince Sani Abacha wishes to offer his sincere gratitude for your aid in financing the extradition of his family during his country's troubled times. Please consider your agreed-upon reward as but a small token the Prince's appreciation; the kingdom of Nigeria will always welcome you with open arms.\" ",
"\"President Mendoza.\"\n\n*That can't be.*\n\n\"President Mendoza, say something, goddammit.\"\n\n\"Uh, yes, Mr. Obama?\"\n\n\"Look at the screen and tell me what you see.\"\n\n*Why when you already know?*\n\n\"My personal account's been increased by ten million dollars.\"\n\n\"That money is not for you to waste on cars or whatever shit your boyfriend wants. That money is to give to North Korea so they don't use their nuke. You know, the one that can destroy the world.\"\n\n\"It actually exists? So why has North Korea been hiding it all this while?\"\n\n\"If you give a mouse a cookie, it's going to want milk. You give it milk, it wants a bedtime story. You give it a bedtime story, it sleeps for a while till it wakes up like a cranky baby again.\"\n\n\"But why us? I mean, China or Russia could give Kim the money.\"\n\n\"Doesn't have the same ring to it as an weak enemy being forced to delay a worldwide nuclear disaster.\"\n\n\"...Fine.\"\n\n\"Secret Service have been briefed on this. Withdraw the ten million at the counter, swear everyone to silence, hell, threaten them if you need to. If any word gets out, the whole world's fucked.\"\n\n\"But why can't we just take a portion of our GDP-\"\n\n\"Because there's always someone who'll figure out where the ten million went.\"\n\n\"Fine. Is this a one-off thing, or do I have to pay him monthly, or what?\"\n\n\"Every week. I'll deposit ten million every Wednesday. Get it to Kim before every Monday. Now shoot the phone.\"\n\n\"But-\"\n\n\"Secret Service will give you another one.\"\n\n\"Frank, can I borrow your pistol, please?\"\n\n "
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[WP] He had no arms or legs. He couldn't hear, see, or speak. This is how he led a nation.
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"The lands were dark, and the people poor. Slavery bought the world, the rich ruling the poor. Wars erupted, blood bathing every inch of the nation. People lost hope, gave in, leaving the throne open. Through this open throne, they suffered. \n\nThrough this open throne, he was born. \n\nHe grew, his kindness unlike any other, suffering the same as his kin. He brought light in the time where the sun didn't rise. He lifted the spirits of his brethren, giving them the strength to fight back. Blood turned copper, drying upon the dirt, the green finally flowing, pointing to the sky. With this will, he lead the peace. The nation, not saved, but tortured, lost. \n\nHe was given the throne, and refused. He left, still leading the nation. They followed, losing him in the fog over the years. He remained, as legends, tales around the fire, as stories, each given their own version. As old as time, he lived, though gone. \n\nHe had no arms or legs. He could not hear, see, or speak. That is how He lead a nation.\n\n***\nwww.thearcherswriting.wordpress.com"
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I'm at a loss at what a seven year old might like (and my bookshelf trends towards heavy reading), so I thought maybe Writing Prompts could write some short ones. Prompt is intentionally vague to let the imagination run wild. Bonus if you create characters I can give interesting voices to.
Edit: Oh my this got more attention than I thought! I will have to have my niece sleep over more! I'll start with /u/Estenya's story first since it was at the top (and I enjoyed Anya's journey!), but I will read them all to Allie I promise! Thank you everyone!
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[WP] The greatest bed time story ever told
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"Once there was an exceptionally foul-tempered dragon named Skilsgark who lived in a cave pretty far up a mountain. The mountain overlooked a small village of hard working folk who put in their 9 to 5 and liked to relax in the evenings with chocolate milk. Unfortunately they had trouble relaxing because this was not a good dragon. It was an emotionally stunted and vengeful dragon. If you even looked at it the wrong way it would scorch your whole flock of sheep and not even eat them because it was also a wasteful dragon.\n\nThe people of the village finally had it after a few hundred years of this. They felt like it was kind of cool having a dragon in the general vicinity because it attracted tourists which was the village's second main industry. But the impact on agriculture was making it not worth it. The village decided to enlist a hero to you know, kill the dragon or maybe just make it go away for a while.\n\nOne day a man arrived who looked exactly like the hero the villagers imagined. He was tall, strong, and he had long hair that never got in his eyes or looked bad. He had a buckler on his back and a big sword in a sheath and a hard look in his eye. He spent a lot of time drinking chocolate milk at the local dairy and dancing. All the women were keen on him because he smelled nice. \n\nAfter a few weeks of drinking and dancing, the man found he was out of coin. That was bad because he had run up tabs at many businesses and while he could run away and skip out on his debts, he was not that kind of guy. He was a man of principle. He asked the cashier at the dairy if there was not any work to be had in this little podunk town and the cashier gave him a furtive look and leaned against the counter and went \"Yeah there's something you could do. Make that dragon go away, you know the one. Kick that dragon's butt and let us know when he's gone and not only will your debts be forgiven, we will give you a commemorative key to the village.\"\n\nThe man listened and put on a brave face. He was not really a fighter though, he was just a guy who looked like what you would think a fighter would look like. He said \"Sure no problem.\" But in his heart he felt scared.\n\nThe cashier's daughter was playing outside in the dirt when the hero walked out. She noticed that his gaze was downcast and he looked like a defeated man. She called out \"What's the matter mister?\"\n\nThe man said \"I go to battle a dragon but alas I do not know how to slay it.\"\n\n\"I know how.\" She said.\n\n\"How?\"\n\n\"I'm not gonna tell you unless you buy me a quart of chocolate milk.\"\n\n\"You're too young for chocolate milk.\"\n\n\"Aw c'mon.\"\n\n\"Oh alright. Here you are. Now, how do I slay that dragon.\"\n\nAnd so the would be hero and the little girl discussed strategy and drew diagrams in the dirt there. At times they looked puzzled and would hold their chins contemplatively. Then you'd see one of them spring up and shout \"Eureka!\" and it was clear they were making some headway though this was a trying task.\n\nFinally after hours of consultation and training from the little girl in the ways of war, the man felt like he might be ready to face the dragon. One piece of advice the girl had given him was that dragons like marshmallows and they sleep during the day. The safest bet would be to bring a wheelbarrow full of marshmallows to the dragon and try to talk it out, tonight.\n\nSo the man rolled the wheelbarrow up the mountain path, for what felt like several miles. He had a pretty bad headache from not having had any chocolate milk all day and he realized he had probably been drinking a little too much. While he was thinking about his next glass of milk he suddenly heard an impossibly deep voice boom out of the blackness.\n\n\"WHO GOES THERE? REVEAL YOURSELF OR FACE A FAN OF FLAMES!\"\n\n\"Oh wait hold on a second. It's just me, an aspiring model from the capital out here on vacation and the villagers want me to slay you so I guess we need to do that or maybe you just want these marshmallows and you can go away for a while with them, you know, like until I leave so that way I can get out of my debts and you can-\"\n\n\"QUIET CHURL! I COULD HAVE MARSHMALLOWS 7 DAYS A WEEK IF I PLEASED. I DO NOT ACCEPT YOUR OFFERING. NOW YOU MEET YOUR END!\"\n\nThe dragon could be heard to thrust itself up. It's enormous wings beat the air such that it created veritable gale force winds, bending back trees and causing the hero's hair to fly back like he was in front of a fan on a modeling shoot. The dragon then breathed a wall of flame and badly burnt the marshmallows but the hero ducked and rolled at the right moment and found himself in the ditch on the side of the path. Oddly enough the girl trained in war from earlier was crouching in that ditch and she did not look very impressed with the hero.\n\n\"That was pathetic,\" She said.\n\nThe hero couldn't help but agree, \"I'm not really cut out for this. I dunno. It's like when you look a certain way people form these expectations of what you should or shouldn't be capable of. You know people think that someone as strikingly handsome as myself would always be happy but I'm not. Sometimes I'm not very happy at all, like right now.\"\n\nThe girl rolled her eyes and grabbed the man's sword and dashed out to meet the dragon. The dragon had grown bored of catching things on fire and was sniffing around, kind of like a dog does on a walk. The girl saw that she had caught the dragon unaware and she crept up to it, then in the blink of an eye she was on top of the beast and she plunged the sword deep into the dragon's back and it instantly passed out from the pain. She removed the sword and then cleansed and packed the wound. When the dragon eventually woke up it felt so embarrassed it flew away and wasn't seen again forever. \n\nThe girl got free chocolate milk at the dairy till the end of her days and the hero returned to the capital to become one of those guys you see in a fair number of commercials and looks kind of familiar.\n",
"In the dark night, a young Hopi boy sat by a lonely camp fire under a single juniper tree. While the stars twinkled brightly against the blackness, he could not see beyond his makeshift camp. He only knew what the camp light could show.\n\n“I would like a friend,” the boy lamented, “are there any friends around?”\nAn owl landed on the juniper tree and answered, “I am your friend. Why are you out in the desert alone?”\n\nThe boy, relieved that he had a friend, replied, “I am traveling back to my mother and father. I accidentally wandered too far following the sun, but now the sun has disappeared and I am lost in the dark.”\n\n“I will guide you back home before dawn,” the owl stated, “but you must have the strength to walk the distance, the resourcefulness to avoid danger, and the courage to move forward.”\n\nThe boy nodded his head in determination. \n\nThe owl said, “As I will guide you, how will you see me in the pitch black?”\n\nThe boy pointed at the tree, “I will use the branch as a torch! I’ve seen my mother create these. It allows her to see further than what is capable. Forgive me, tree, I am in need of your gifts.”\n\nThe boy fashioned the branches as a torch and was ready to move forward, but the owl asked, “Now that you can see in the dark, where will you go? What direction is your village?”\n\nThe boy pointed at the north star, “I will use this bright star as my guidance! My father told me to use the skies as a compass if I am ever lost.”\n\nWith the boy's new found confidence, he knew he would make it back home to his mother and father with help from his friend, the owl. The boy walked until he reached a large mountain. \n\n“The mountain stretches beyond the lands. It will take many days to walk around. What will you do?” asked the owl.\n\nThe boy cried out, “Clan Bighorn Sheep, can you help me pass this mountain?”\nA bighorn sheep emerged. The boy asked, “Sir, can you assist me in climbing the mountain? I must cross to the other side.” \n\n“May you assist me first?” the bighorn sheep asked, “I am in love, but I cannot do horn battles with others as I lack the strength to win.”\n\nThe boy pointed at the big horn sheep’s heart, “My father has told me that strength is gathered through gentleness. Rather than horn battle, can you not appeal to your love by being kind in this harsh world?”\n\nThe bighorn sheep said, “Your father is wise. I will help you cross the mountain.”\n\nThe boy climbed upon the bighorn sheep as it danced across the mountain and onto the other side. The boy thanked his new friend and continued on his journey until he reached a canyon. By the canyon was an elk whose antlers was stuck in a tree. \n\n“Help me, friend,” the elk pleaded.\n\nThe boy broke off branches and navigated the antlers from harm. “Can you help me now, friend?” the boy asked, “I must cross the canyon, but I cannot jump across it.”\n\nThe elk allowed the boy to climb onto his back and leaped across the canyon in a single bound. The elk thanked the boy, but asked before departing, “Why did you assist me?”\n\nThe boy said, “My mother told me that we must help each other in this world. We cannot be focused solely on ourselves.”\n\nThe elk nodded and left the boy back to his journey. The boy felt he was close to his destination until the owl whispered to the boy, “Boy, there is an ogre ahead. What will you do?”\n\nThe boy walked until he approached the ogre. The ogre stood as tall as a tree and wore a basket on his back. He did not notice the boy at first, but the boy asked, “Hello ogre, why are you out here?”\n\nThe ogre, now staring at the boy, said, “I am looking for a naughty child to put in my basket.”\n\n“Is there a particular naughty child you are looking for?” the boy asked.\n\n“Yes, one who has wandered out in the lands and has not returned to his parents,” the ogre replied.\n\n“Well, I can take you to the village where the boy lives. I can ride in your basket showing you the way.”\n\nThe ogre nodded in acceptance. The boy climbed into the basket and told the ogre where to go. Towards the village they both went and when they arrived, the boy climbed down and told the ogre, “I am sorry, but I am the boy. I did not mean to trick you, but as you are now in the village and I do not want to leave my family as I have just returned, may I repay you with food?”\n\nThe ogre, at first angry at the deceit, laughed heartily as he had been outwitted by the boy. The boy retrieved food for the ogre and wished the it well. \n\nLastly, the boy turned to the owl, “Thank you for helping me in my journey.”\n\nThe owl replied, “You did not need my help, young man. You were fully capable to complete this journey on your own.” \n",
"THE GREAT DRAGO\n\nPssst….Over here…Yeah you...Over here. Come gather around the table and I’ll tell you a fable. \n\nA long long time ago…\n\nThere lived a dragon named Drago from the land of Dragor. \n\nHe had grand round green eyes that spied his favorite pies like an eagle from the sky.\n\nHis nose was long and some would say scary and his tongue had a flame that flew a fiery fury.\n\nHe greeted visitors with a voice that was a roar from his core, “I am Drago the great dragon of lore.”\n\nHe was towering with a tail that went great lengths and when his wings went wide a dark and dreary shadow covered Dragor.\n\nWhile Drago may seem scary, villagers need not be wary. \n\nFor Drago was the protector against a realm of monsters, and malcontents, and harm doers and all really horrible things.\n\nIn his time no evildoer prevailed, nor perpetrator went unpunished. \n\nHowever if there was one person that needed to run and hide it was poor Boris the baker who made the most delicious pies and no special pie escaped Drago’s eye. \n\nDrago you see survived on nothing but sweets and Drago cast down to take the morning delivery.\n\nWell one day Boris had enough. He paid heroes that were tough to slay the dragon named Drago in the mountains of Dragor.\n\nThey climbed to the top and swung swords that sliced through the air, but with one big puff Drago sent them running to the bluff as he said, “My name is Drago the great dragon of lore. Why have you come to my door?”\n\nAs they ran down the hill one squeaked, “It t’was Boris the Baker who wished you ill.”\n\nThis didn’t anger Drago, rather it made him sad. All this time he thought the pies were his, but now he knew everyone thought he was bad. \n\nLonely and leery his eyes became teary and he started to grow weary of who he had become. Was he the crazed criminal? \n\n“I must make this right,” he said as he took flight on his way to Boris the Baker with a shadow of might.\n\nIn an instant he was at the Baker’s door with his hands clasped tight he knocked nervously and counted to four.\n\n“He must not be home, so I better go,” said Drago.\n\nHe started to sneak away back into the sky when he heard a creek and a voice, “OH MY!”\n\nDrago turned around as he smelled the mans fear, “I’m sorry mister, please forgive my sneer. You see it’s my face, I don’t mean to look scary. I was born a certain way, but I’m really quite merry. I’m sorry, I apologize, and I’m the very thing you would criminalize. I thought the pies were purposely provided for my own hunting exercise, but now I know I was telling myself lies. I will leave you alone. You don’t have to worry. In fact I’ll be gone, no more flying or fury.” With that Drago leapt in the air and flew fast to the far off mountain.\n\nThe next morning his belly growled and grumbled and gurgled, but he fought his urge. He stayed in his cave never to be heard.\n\nAs the day grew long he heard off in the distance a jolly song. They were calling his name, “Dear Drago the great, please take this pie and celebrate the triumph of who we are. We are Dragor and named after our protector please Drago come and see. You are loved by one and all, even the baker has heard your call.”\n\nWith that Drago flew down and he danced with the town in a party for the protector for all that matters when seeking to live happily everafters.\n\nTHE END\n",
"There was once a young boy who would grow up to be a King of the Dragons, who would wield a Holysaber and ride Ten-Ton-Tom, the Dragonlord: an impressive, behemoth, fire-red Dragon that spewed plasma and soared easily above the clouds.\n\nBut the Boy Who Would be King of the Dragons had a nemesis from across the vast grassy plains: Darklord Viceroy, Lord of Shadows, The Most Vile, he who wielded a Dreadsaber. Darklord Viceroy also rode a dragon, of sorts. But not with a capital D, you see.\n\nFor, you see, Darklord Viceroy enslaved the dinosaurs of the Lands, and rode a pterodactyl, Dread-Dax, into battle: a thing of terrible teeth, sharp claws, and leathery, webbed wings.\n\nDarklord Viceroy rolled over the Lands, his face always veiled in flaming darkness, conquering with his dinosaur armies and legions of Cursed Men one individual fiefdom after another, until only the Boy Who Would be King of Dragon's small village was all that stood between the Darklord Viceroy and his ultimate conquest of the Lands.\n\nThis boy's father had left to far-away Lands to fight far-away battles, or else he would have smote the Darklord Viceroy down, right there, on the spot. Thus, it was left up to the Boy Who Would be Dragon King to take his father's left-behind blade, Holysaber, which was too hallowed to use against any but the utmost evil, such as Darklord Viceroy had become.\n\nThe boy, with the help of his father's Holysaber, drove back the first scouts, and was about to face the vanguard--the first real soldiers of the line--except the ground gave way beneath his feet, and this boy fell into a dry well.\n\nFortunately, as fate has it in these things, the boy landed on a Dragon's nest. It was a Prince's nest, long since forgotten since the Dragons left the lands to fight the foreign Land's wars, so that when the Dragon hatched, at the boy's warmth, with no other Dragonlord's around, this Dragon became the reigning Dragonlord.\n\n\"Ride me,\" said the Dragonlord soon to be known as Ten-Ton-Tom, for he would grow to that size in due time, \"for I sense dark enemies near.\"\n\nBut, the Dragonlord was just a whelp, the boy surely argued, not wanting to stress the hatchling, nor do it harm. \n\n\"I am a Dragon,\" Ten-Ton-Tom said. \"And, now, I feel as if I am the last Dragon on these Lands--the Dragonlord.\" Ten-Ton-Tom spread its wings, which were great, even in his smallest stature. \"Come, Boy Who is Dragon King, for thy have waken a Dragonlord, thus, thou are worthy. Yet I may not fly, but together, upon my back, we shall sally forth--I shall be your horse, just this once--and together we shall smite all evils.\"\n\nSo, the now King of Dragons mounted the Dragonlord, and both leaped through the hole in the earth above their heads, and sprung forth upon the Darklord Viceroy's armies, in total surprise, casting them to the winds, defeated. The King of Dragon's Holysaber flying like a shooting star, casting off divine light--like, *fwwwosh*!--behind it as the holy weapon's formless slice whacked and snicker-snacked its enemies, and Ten-Ton-Tom breathed fire, but not yet plasma--for the Dragonlord was still just a whelp. In time, though. All in due time.\n\nWhat happens next? When do they face the Darklord Viceroy? When does Ten-Ton-Tom grow up, and when do we know the King of Dragon's name?\n\nWell, let's not hurry a story all in one good night. All in due time, as well.\n\n**(caution: this story may be counter-productive to sleep)**",
"The knight arrived late, the princess was eaten, and the castle was foreclosed upon for failure to pay taxes. All-in-all, it had been a rather poor year for the kingdom, but as always, there was still hope.\nCharles Gustav Ludwig Van Ficklebach IV, or Chuck as he was known to his friends, was preparing to have another one of his epic dinner parties. \n\n“Tis’ my sacred duty, Teacup.” Chuck addressed his Gorilla manservant as the latter held out a coat with tails for the former. Teacup grunted agreement as Chuck donned the ornate jacket. “What with Mr. Valiant missing his appointment. The King is sourly disappointed, you know.” Chuck straightened his cuffs as Teacup ran a stiff brush across his shoulders and back. “Did you realize we’re down to less than a half dozen damsels now?” Chuck ticked off his fingers until he reached three, forgot what he was counting, and then glared at Teacup. “You smell of coconuts, and made me lose my train of thought.” Teacup looked abashed – correction, Teacup looked as if he were going to bash something – but instead he counted banana bunches in his mind until the “rage-y” feelings subsided. This was a trick that his yoga instructor had taught him before being savagely beaten to death and tied into a knot like a pretzel. Naval gazing has never been so aptly named.\n\n“Were you considering murdering me again?” Chuck pointedly stared up at the bottom of the Gorilla’s chin.\n\n“Uff...” Teacup affirmed.\n\n“Well, stop it, and don’t start again. I won’t have it.” Chuck inspected his manservant from bottom to top, not spending excess time on the bottom, and yet failing to linger on the top. I suppose the midsection concerned him the most, as it was wrapped in a gold trimmed, purple sarong that hardly covered anything, leaving the impression of a large hairy man in an ill-fitting mini-skirt. “Well, at least you’re wearing your uniform for once. So, that’s a start.”\n\nWhen none of the dinner guests arrived, Chuck became worried. When he found them all dead on his front lawn he was both relieved, at not having been snubbed, and concerned, at having three-hundred dead nobles lying about.\n\n“Teacup!” Chuck shouted. “Teacup, I believe Valiant’s dragon has arrived!” In retrospect, Chuck regretted having sent that particular invitation, but as the old saying goes, a dragon forgotten is a dragon most feared. Also in retrospect, Chuck was terrible at interpreting old sayings.\n\nTeacup, however, was already several steps ahead of Chuck. Quite literally. Teacup was running for the gate at what could only be called a gallop for a more graceful animal, and possibly a garrump, or grawlorp, or some other appropriately inarticulate sounding word for a Gorilla in a sarong hitting full stride.\n\n“Ah, well yes.” Chuck sighed. “On top of it all, we’ve nobody left to check the coats.” He stood for a moment, contemplating his next course of action. \n“Shall I fight,” he wondered as the dragon approached. Its long talons flowed beneath it with a silent grace. “I could attempt to flee,” he gently massaged his stubbled chin, “though I do detest the thought of getting sweaty,” he sniffed the air, “much less the act of it.” The dragon now stood only fifty paces from Chuck. It exhaled a torrent of sulfuric stench that wafted across the distance between them and very nearly caused Chuck to up his namesake. \n\n“You there, stop that this instant,” he called out. “It is unsanitary and unsportsmanlike. I am trying to think up a way to escape your grasp and you aren’t helping.” The dragon paused mid-stride and sharply inhaled. \n\n“That’s much better, thank y—“ Chuck began, but was suddenly distracted by a stream of flame, which shot forth from the dragon’s gaping maw. Chuck instinctively darted to the left, which was rather unfortunate, as the stream of flame was over there. He pivoted quickly to the right, tripped, spun around, and landed inches from a large pool of liquid fire. “Yeaoowww!” He shouted and rolled to his left, which was still quite the wrong direction. He shouted some more and began rolling to his right, not stopping until he figured most of the fire on his person had been extinguished. \n\nThe dragon stood over him now, its nostrils flaring in a steady rhythm as its breathing stirred dust and leaves into the air. The dragon lowered its head until one eye was mere inches from Chuck’s pale face. “My name is Mary,” spoke the dragon in a low, rumbling tone that shook the earth beneath them, “and I have a proposition for you.”\n\n“Your name is Mary?” Chuck asked only out of politeness. He was in no mood to be genuinely interested, but he supposed it was the sort of detail that one opens a conversation with in the hopes that someone will ask about it. Plus, he could tell from his current vantage point that he was dealing with a boy dragon.\n\n“Yesssssss!” Mary roared, causing Chuck to go temporarily deaf in his left eye and permanently blind in the right ear. He realized almost immediately that his senses were somewhat confused about which parts did what, but he catalogued the detail for later reminiscence. Mary continued, “I am the son of a thousand fathers, the last born of my kin, and the keeper of this kingdom’s heart. I have lived five hundred years and fought ten thousand foes. I am the natural king and master of these lands. But you, my frail, crunchy, mortal, snack-sized friend may address me as Mary.”\n\n“I see,” Chuck said to buy time, as he currently could not in fact see out of one or more of his face holes. He briefly wondered if he had a concussion, then wondered if he had an aspirin, then wondered if he had a clean glass to pour some water into to take the pill with. All of the wondering made him dreadfully dizzy, so he figured it likely was a concussion after all. With that settled he turned his attention back to the dragon, “Well, Mary. Would you care for a refreshment? My man has run off to escape you, but I am sure he will return once he realizes he left me behind in his haste.” As a side note, Teacup would return three days later after the initial shock and grief of losing his master had worn off. It would take an additional three days of grieving and recovery after finding out that he had actually not lost his master, after all.\n\n“I have no time to wait for your man, nor do I care for your refreshments. I am here to make you a bargain. If you accept my deal, you will be adorned in the finest jewels, embraced by the most beautiful women, and have your pick of the world’s fastest steeds.” Mary’s eye slit narrowed as he focused his gaze more intently on Chuck’s face.\n\n“What if I refuse this bargain of yours, whatever it is?” Chuck challenged the beast with as much enthusiasm and gusto as one could muster while laying on their back in smoldering clothing, surrounded by liquid fire, and looking up into the terrible face of certain death.\n\n“Then I eat you right now, very slowly, and very loudly,” Mary flared his nostrils and let a puff of smoke escape into the air. The thought of being eaten did not bother Chuck so much as the part about it being loud. He simply could not stand loud eaters. The constant crunching and slurping simply drove him mad. \n\n“Alright, then” Chuck slowly found his footing and stood. The top of his head came within inches of Mary’s lower jaw. “You have my attention,” he said as he brushed dirt and ash off of his maroon leggings. “You’ve burned off my hair you know,” he patted himself down and groused. \n\n“Your hair is all there, human.” The dragon rumbled and shifted its gaze to the top of Chuck’s head.\n\n“Oh, up there, sure,” Chuck tisked. \"Now what is all of this business about beautiful steeds and fast women?\"\n\n-------------------------------------------\n\nTo be continued... (tis' late and I have run dry of time)\n",
"My dad told me this story as a kid, I want to pass it onto my child one day.\n\n----\n\nThere once was a boy named Little Timmy. He was about eight years old, probably about your height. He was whats known as a dreamer. He dreamed and wished for many things, including lots of chocolate to eat and cake to go with it, if possible.\n\nBut there was one thing that Timmy dreamed and wished for more than anything else in the world. \n\nYou see, Timmy wasn't like the other boys and girls. He had an unusual problem. \n\nTimmy had duck feet.\n\nNow, you may ask yourself, how does Timmy have duck feet? Well, that's not really the question here. The fact is, he had them, and they weren't going to go away on their own.\n\nTimmy was made fun of by the other children for his feet. But he had one friend, George, that stuck by him. George was always telling him positive things about his feet.\n\n\"Timmy, you know that you can swim better than anyone else!\"\n\n\"Timmy, you might not be able to run fast, but you sure don't need to worry about your socks getting wet inside your shoes when it rains!\"\n\nNow, being positive was all well and good, but Timmy wanted real feet, like other boys and girls. So, one night, he sat by his window and stared hard into the night sky, waiting for something. He waited, and he waited, and he waited so long.\n\nThen finally, he saw it. A small glimmer in the night sky. The first night star.\n\nGeorge had once told him that if someone wished hard enough on the first night star, their wish would come true.\n\nSo Timmy shut his eyes and stuck out his tongue and wished. And he wished, and he wished, and he wished. And he wished so hard, and so long, his knees got numb. But finally, he felt that he had put his heart and soul into it, and slipped into bed to go to sleep.\n\nTimmy dreamed of putting on socks and shoes the next morning, and running through fields of grain, laughing and being happy.\n\nThe next morning, Timmy opened his eyes, and stared down at the two lumps at the end of his bed where his feet were. He daren't wiggle them. He had to know. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, grasped the covers, and threw them back all in one motion!\n\nSlowly, he opened his eyes.\n\nAnd Little Timmy still had duck feet.",
"Anya wanted to be a dragon. \nEver since her nurse had read her the story about the knight and the dragon, she'd wanted to be one. But she hadn't told anyone, it was a *secret* - because for one, the only girls in the dragon and knight stories were princesses and they never *did* anything. \nAnd for two, dragons were supposed to be evil; yet she was always told what a good girl she was. \nBut that didn't stop Anya from dreaming. \nUnfortunately, all the dragons in the kingdom were either stuffed and mounted in the Great Hall or were lurking in dangerous caves and ruins. But from what Anya knew of dragons, they were lizards, just like the ones that lurked in the conservatorium. \nShe spent several days in the ancient glass structure, the warm, wet air making her sweaty. Amongst all the strange and wonderful plants, she found several kinds of gecko and lizards that she carefully observed. \nBeing a gecko was difficult, she discovered. Trying to stick herself to the yellowed glass walls of the conservatorium was *very* hard. She found that if she got enough sticky sap on her hands and feet, she could stick quite well - but ultimately she couldn't climb the glass like the tiny lizards and nurse had smacked her bottom for getting so filthy with plant juice. \n\"Geckos are too small anyway,\" she told herself. \nNext she studied the tuatara lizards that sat on small rocks in the sunlight. Imitating them was easy; they never moved. Eventually she grew bored of lying on rocks staring into space and she began searching for more interesting lizards. \nThe frilled lizards that lived on the plains to the west of the castle would puff out their necks and dash along on their two hind feet - faster than a rabbit, kicking up sand as they ran. She chased them around for hours, holding her cloak out around her neck like a giant frill. \nUnfortunately the lizards were quite unimpressed. \nEventually she gave in and went to the library, complaining, \n\"Father always said that you learn more from *doing* than from reading, but I cannot *do* because I cannot find a dragon to teach me how to be one.\" \nAnd so she ended up reading all the books about dragons. \n\n  \nThe most important thing she decided was to *look* and *behave* like a dragon. \nOf course, the second part was the easiest - she roared at anyone who came near her room and she stole all the gold and silver she could find, piling it onto her bed to sleep upon. The silver forks were especially uncomfortable. \n\"Dragons don't feel the forks though,\" she said, \"because their thick scales protect them.\" \nThe castle tailor agreed to make her a dragon suit, but the fabric wasn't stiff enough and the candlesticks and cutlery still poked her when she tried to sleep on her treasure. \n\"The suit *looks* very nice,\" Anya told the tailor, \"but it isn't strong enough.\" \nWhen he suggested that she see the blacksmith, Anya's eye lit with something akin to dragon fire and she ran down the hundred stairs to the armoury. \nAfter receiving her request, the blacksmith agreed to make her a new dragon suit, \n\"But,\" he said, \"it will take me a while. You'll have to come back in a week.\" \nImpatient, Anya roared at him, but the blacksmith wasn't impressed. \n\"It will be two weeks if you keep that up,\" he warned. \nIt was a long wait for Anya, but somehow she made it through. By the time a week had passed she was *very* grumpy from sleeping on her bed of stolen treasures. The servants had learned to leave her alone and nurse just left her meals at the door. \nBut the suit was *marvelous* - it was everything she had dreamed of. The blacksmith had even put long steel claws on the scaled gloves and iron spines down the back. \nAfter he helped her into the armour, Anya roared with joy and ran off into the castle, to terrorise the servants.\n\n  \nFor a time, Anya was pleased with her dragon suit. Certainly it made sleeping on her treasure horde much easier - she didn't feel a thing now. \nBut she still couldn't breathe fire and she couldn't *fly*. \nThis simply wasn't good enough. \nThe blacksmith refused to make her wings and no matter how many hot coals she put in the long nose of the dragon helmet, she only singed her hair. \nDisappointed, she moped around the castle in her dragon amour and hissed at anyone who came near. \nEventually she ended up in the library again, looking for a solution. However it was hard to turn the pages with her clawed dragon hands, so she had to take the gloves off and that made her even angrier. \nOne book gave her an idea though. It told of witches who lived in the swamps to the east who could brew her a potion to turn her into a dragon. Elated at her discovery, she put on her gloves and set off immediately. \nIt didn't take her long to find the hut of a witch, standing on long poles in the swamp. A ladder hung down, but she couldn't climb it in her dragon armour. \n\"Raaaaaar! Come down, witch!\" she roared at the hut. \nAn old woman's face appeared in the door of the hut and blinked at her, \n\"Why, it's a tiny dragon!\" \n\"Not dragon enough!\" roared Anya, \"I need to fly and breath fire!\" \n\"Well give me a moment then and I'll fetch you a potion so you can do just that.\" \nAnya waited impatiently slashing at the reeds with her claws and growling at frogs. \nWhen the witch came down the ladder, she cautioned Anya, \n\"You will have to take off your armour, or you'll grow too big and get stuck in it.\" \nAnya nodded. That seemed sensible, even to a dragon. \nOnce the armour was off she took the potion from the witch and drank it. \nRight away she began to feel funny and her face began to hurt. Then her back and her arms. She was growing! \nBefore she knew it, Anya had grown into a young dragon, about the size of a horse. She coughed in surprise and smoke came out her mouth. With a roar of joy, she flapped her wings, then ran along until she lifted into the sky. \nShe was a *real* dragon! \n\n  \nBut back at the castle, no one recognised her. The guards on the walls shot arrows at her and knights rode about the countryside, waiting for her to land. \nFrightened now, Anya found a cave, high up in the mountains where no one could follow her. \n\"I don't want to be a dragon anymore,\" she thought to herself, \"I just want to go home.\" \nThe next day she flew back to the swamp and pleaded with the witch to turn her back, but she couldn't speak like a person anymore - she could only roar and breathe fire. The witch chased her off with stinging spells and a cloud of ravens and Anya returned to her lonely cave. \n\"Sometimes,\" though Anya, \"it is better to pretend to be something than it is to *actually* become it.\" \nAnd as she thought that to herself, she turned back into a little girl. \nWhen Anya got to the gates of the castle, her nurse and her father ran out to greet her, they had been afraid she'd been eaten by the dragon. \nAnd in a way, Anya realised, she *had* been eaten by the dragon. \nBut anyway, clearly all the real power lay with being a *witch.* \n\"Father,\" she said, \"I need a *broomstick*.\" "
] | 7
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[WP] Give the reader a tour of your mind.
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[
"\"Welcome to the tour of my mind. This recording is was originally made in the year 1970 and has been updated on five year intervals. If, during the course of the tour, you notice discrepancies between what you seen and what you hear, please make a note of it in the log book at the end of the tour. The management would appreciate it if you would check whether or not your change has already been entered before making a new comment.\n\n\"The first stop on our tour is the eyes. Please step forward until you are standing in front of the right eye, which will be the one on your left. There is a placard with the number one next to the eye. Press the play button when you are in front of the right eye.\"\n\n[click]\n\n\"The eyes have too often been called the windows to the soul. That is not the case here as the glasses coupled with the perpetually snarky expression make it difficult to judge anything but the most extreme mood swings. For anything else, the corners of the mouth and the eyebrows do much more to delineate any understanding of what is going on inside. However, the eyes do allow entry into the Mind. To get there, please duck under the lower rim of the glasses and slide into the lower eye lid. Once inside you will see the sign for stop two. Please press the play button when you have made it behind the eye.\"\n\n[click]\n\n\"Welcome inside the my head. During the trip down the eye lid, you have been transfered into a thought. You will note that this was a painless process. You will be returned to your corporeal form at the end of the tour. This recording did not warn you of the change in physical status so as not to alarm you. Please also note that you signed a disclaimer at the beginning of the tour that absolves me of any accidents or issues that arise during the tour, including matter-thought and thought-matter conversion issues.\n\n\"You are now standing in front of the Short-Term Memory Banks. In here, all sensory input is stored as the rest of the mind filters it and decides on any necessary actions. The different colored cables connected to it are feeds from the various senses. The Eyes have the two thick green cables, the Ears, the two less thick blue cables, the nose the single yellow cable, the tongue the single purple cable. All of the thin red cables are connected to various touch and temperature sensitive nerves.\n\n\"Next up is Central Processing. Please follow the white line to the sign marked with the three. Press play when you are at Central Processing.\"\n\n[click]\n\n\"Central Processing is the area of the mind that takes the input from the senses stored in the Short-Term Memory Banks, combines them with commands from the Ego and outputs both action commands to the muscles as well as storage commands for Long-Term Memory. The two thick black cables in the back are the connections to the Ego: one feeds information to the Ego and the other brings commands back. Central Processing has a heuristic system that attempts to anticipate what the Ego will do and is continually updating itself based on how the actual commands differ from the anticipated commands.\n\n\"The Ego is our next stop. Please follow the white line along the black cables until you reach the sign with the four on it. When you reach the Ego, please press play.\"\n\n[click]\n\n\"The large red thing inside the thick layer of cartilage is the Ego. The cartilage is armor designed to protect the Ego from outside attack. In this, my brain, the armor is generally considered to be thicker than is normal. This does not mean the Ego is less prone to attack, merely that it has learned over many years to shut itself up.\n\n\"The Ego's main function is not to tell the body what to do. Most of that is handled by Central Processing. Instead, the Ego ensures that the actions taken by Central Processing are consistent with the current Self-Image. This Self-Image is stored in a special cache memory inside the Ego and has been built up through trial and error from external feedback. It is an amalgam of what has been praised versus what has received more negative feedback. Each action that Central Processing takes is judged against this feedback model as either reinforcing it or countering it. Those that counter it are stopped or minimized, while those that reinforce are exaggerated.\n\n\"At the top and the bottom of the Ego's shell, you large sections of conduit. These connect to the Ego to its two advising co-processors: the Id and the Super-Ego. The Id helps the Ego ensure that basic survival and needs are met: hunger, pain, sex are all things that the Id highlights for the Ego and ensures that it will take care of them. The Super-Ego contains a more idealized version of the Self-Image. It helps the Ego understand the direction it should go to create a more pure version of me. Due to issues with continuity and pride, the tour no longer visits either of these two areas.\n\n\"Our final stop will be the Long-Term Memory Banks. Please follow the white line to the sign with the five on it. When you get to the Long-Term Memory Banks, please press play.\"\n\n[click]\n\n\"These are the Long-Term Memory Banks. They extend beyond our ability to render them for your non-corporeal self. In them is all of the sensations and actions that I have deemed worthy of keeping beyond immediate sensation. The information that is stored here are memories of what I acted on an why. As the banks become full, priority is given to items that have had a strong or immediate influence. For instance, one of the earliest memories is from when I got my finger caught in a rat trap while at a play date at a friends house. Except that I don't remember that the phrase 'play date' was in use at the time. I was wearing that friend's cowboy outfit and was around the age of four. The pain from the trap created an impression strong enough to lock the other details into these banks. However, I do not remember the friend's name as he was not with me when the trap went off, but in another room. The space that may have held his name has been reallocated to more immediate memories that have helped to form both the Self-Image and the Idealized Self-Image.\n\n\"Please notice the red wires running back to the Ego. Those are connected to memories that are being re-analyzed against the Self-Image. What actions were taken and did they fit into the Self-Image or not? If not, why not? What actions need to be taken now to help that memory fit better, if any? How can this situation be improved on or avoided in the future? The Ego is continually re-remembering much of the Long-Term Memory and in the process reinforcing which memories should be stored the longest.\n\n\"You will notice some writing on the sides of the banks. These have been left by previous tour guests in the mistaken impression that they are in fact writing new memories or changing existing ones. This is not how the process works and writing on the banks merely annoys me. Please do not write on the sides of the banks.\n\n\"This concludes our tour. Please follow the white line out to the Nasal Passage where you will be reformed into your original self through a process of express exhalation, more commonly called a 'sneeze'. Thank you for taking this tour of my Mind. If you have any questions or comments, please leave them in the log after your re-incorporation.\"\n\n[click]",
"Tinted windowpanes line the foremost wall of the lobby, golden trim lines the high vertical panes through which an overly eager audience attempts to peer. Beyond these darkened apertures lies a generous lobby lined with a bright red carpet, polished hardwood, dim lights overhead and golden trim laid throughout. Near the back wall of this room stands a serious lady, today's tour guide, clutching her itinerary closely to her chest. She stands tall and straight, staring ahead wordlessly into the empty room as she frees a hand to adjust the thin rimmed glasses that threaten to plummet from her nose. Her dark grey skirt suit seems to match the atmosphere of the room, but also seems out of place. A notion further intensified as she constantly adjusts her suit despite her otherwise serious and calm demeanor.\n\nShe glances towards the grandfather clock along the left wall, breathing deeply as the minute hand ascends the final hill. The anticipation seems to be getting to her, as though this were her first day on the job or that she had been given some ridiculous task far beyond her scope. Behind her cobalt eyes lies a fierce storm of determination, one that steadies her mind and body as the clock chimes aloud. The doors open as throngs of people pour in to the lobby for this unexpected tour. They stand before the woman, packed into the seemingly shrinking room as she clears her throat before the final bell.\n\n“Good morning everyone, I'm glad to see that you made it on time,” she begins, casting a brief look of disappointment and judgment towards those rushing in the closing doors. “Most of you, that is.”\n\nEying the crowd, she walks from one end of the room to its opposite marking on the papers attached to her clipboard with each step. Satisfied with her data, she walks towards the door that was hidden behind her, the entrance to my mind. Grasping the door handle in one hand and the clipboard in another, she begins to turn the handle before some words of advice occur to her. With a half-turn, she stares at the mass of strangers and speaks again.\n\n“We will now be entering the mindscape, please keep your hands and thoughts to yourselves unless otherwise prompted. Follow behind me in an orderly manner and I will see to it that you return here safely by the end of this tour,” she instructs in a clear tone. “Before we begin, are there any questions?”\n\nThe crowd seems to consider her words for a moment, leaving an uncomfortable gap that pushes her to move forward. With a quiet response on behalf of the patrons, she slowly opens the door and leads them into a seemingly endless hallway. The hall is lined with a number of rooms each bearing its own elaborate faceplate which corresponds to its contents. The crowd slowly enters the long corridor, hardly filling its space despite the cramped conditions. Once the entrance closes behind the stragglers, she addresses them once again.\n\n“We are now in the central corridor. From here we can access each and every topic, no matter how obscure, that he has accumulated over the years. As we continue down the hallway, you may notice that there are some new rooms under construction and some that are in disrepair. While you may feel drawn to enter these rooms, I again remind you to refrain for your own safety. We will enter a select few rooms if we have time. As you have surely noticed, this hallways stretches quite a distance and it will take some time to traverse it,” she stops to breathe after the speech before adding one last detail. “I imagine that some of you believe that this hallway is endless, but I assure you that it is not.”\n\nAs the tour continued, the audience marveled at the broad range of subjects which spanned from intellectual and interesting to absurd and appalling. There were many instances where a rebel visitor reached for the door only to find himself scolded by the guide. They walked for hours down the way with no end in sight as she gave a brief summary, a shortened biography, on the man behind all rooms. Growing tired and disinterested, the crowd began to complain first in whispers and later in loud and obnoxious outbursts that their leader had trouble tolerating. Though several hours had passed and they had seen doors proclaiming marvelous contents and portraits of strange people or landscapes, the group had yet to actually experience something unique for themselves.\n\n“If you would, please carry on a little longer. We have almost reached the end of the hallway where we have scheduled a surprise just for you. I understand that we have traveled quite some distance, uneventfully, but the reward draws near,” she explained.\n\nIt seemed as though many that had gathered there understood and were willing to wait. What troubled her most was that there were an equal number that did not understand and were not willing or capable of being patient. One such person cried out, appealing to his fellow members, and turned towards the nearest door. Grasping the handle and flinging it open, the group was met with a darkened room. From the room seeped shadow like smoke that beckoned them inward with whispers that only their ears could discern. Seeing the door stood open, the guide rushed to close it before they could enter or something could exit. Slamming the door, she stood with her back against the banging wood as screams and yells echoed behind her. As the last bits of smoke dissipated, she lectured the would-be corpse and removed him from the party with a vanishing trap door. Returning to the front, she turned to see that many were alarmed or downright terrified.\n\n“I trust that there will be no further issue with your compliance, then?” she asked with a warm smile as the group looked on incredulously.\n\n-206",
"**~~Inspiration~~ (There's never a dull moment when you kick and scream your way through life...)**\n\nSo I don’t reckon I know what this is going to be about just yet. I just got done reading some works by my friend, Natasha, who would pwn me at all things writing, and now I’m feeling, I don’t know, inspired or something. Just to make things clear given the context of the word “friend” in this particular instance, its defined as “a bitter enemy that for some odd reason you continue talking with because you’re absolute contempt for them helps you define yourself.” I know it sounds kind of fucked up, but we get along fine enough. \n\nI think it’s important to note before we get to far into this that I’m listening to Seether as I’m writing this. It’s that song about that hooker committing suicide and how he just wanted to love her or something like that. Hella romantic… She’s my dream girl… Maybe this is why all my relationships fail. Or maybe it’s because I’m a lying, cheating, manipulative son of a bitch. Naw… I’m gonna go with the former. The point is the ADD kicks in and I have trouble concentrating if I try to listen to music and write at the same time, so potentially this could just go no where and I might just end up rocking out here in my big red saucer chair in my Martin the Martian pajama pants that I got for seventy-five cents at the thrift store until one of my roommates wakes up livid, and chucks a solid object at my head… Which would be completely inappropriate, I mean… I have a condition. I used to believe that ADD was just a load of crap that kids used as an excuse to get Adderall. Scratch that, I still think it’s a load of crap, but I figured that if these little shits are gonna use that excuse then I sure as hell am gonna use it too! I think it’s important to note that my opinion on ADD is made from a completely bias standpoint with only fabricated evidence to support it. I’ve done no research of my own and only have the biased opinions of people dumber, but older than me to support my claims. I fancy taking a Christian-like approach to things from time to time. \n\nI said along time ago that I constantly contradict myself. I think I originally said it because when you have an argument like that to fall back on, no one can ever really say shit to you, I mean, I warned them all in advance. But now it’s sort of become a burden. Often times nowadays I go out of my way just to contradict myself simply to uphold my values. If I live long enough I may even contradict the fact that I contradict everything and just stop. I guess I’ll need something else to keep my life going after that though. Maybe I’ll have a kid or something… From what I hear that’s a pretty legit way to add meaning to your life, and I mean seriously how fucked up could he end up really? Just look around… I know, right? I’d like to think I could do a better job than that. The standard is set so low, even if I do a hella shitty job, the kid will still end up better than most. Whatever… I’m going to go make breakfast. Maybe I’ll pick this up when I come back, or maybe you can go get fucked.\n\nWell, that was one hell of a meal. Elaboration? I scrounged the kitchen for anything edible. I came up with some rice from yesterday that was rock solid, some of my roommate’s tuna fish, and a tortilla that had been in the fridge so long it was starting to feel like cardboard. Being creative helps when you’re poor. I’m realistically going to have to lie later about the tuna fish too, either that or I could tell him to go sit on a pole. Probably the latter, just in case he reads this. Besides I’m still a little irked about when he made fun of my glasses last Saturday. Fuck ‘em if he can’t take a joke!\n\nSo this is getting kind of long. Not long in the sense that it’s a lengthy piece of notable work, but long in the sense that if anyone actually read this far and saw that there was still more than a paragraph they would instantaneously realize that they had something better to do with their life and quit reading. So with that I bid you adieu, or to put it in common day vernacular, peace out, bitches. \n",
"This area is where I'd keep my ideas (*if I had any*). For some reason, my memes and references seem to be next-door. That explains the pun-ridden story I wrote about a year ago. At least I've refrained from using puns in my other pieces. \n\nThis is the little pen for my feelings. They're friendly, low-maintenance creatures. Go on. Pet them. When they fatten up, I take the axe, deliver one clean swing, and put them into my stories. Do I feel badly about that? Sometimes.\n\nThis is where I grow my knowledge. Most people tell me that I've a nice, sizeable farm, but I think the whole thing sucks. I have crops, but I don't have interesting crops. I grow some math. There are a few historical facts here; a few scientific facts there, but I want interesting things. I want to grow some CompSci or some Calc. You know what I mean? My new plots probably need a lot more TLC. More water. Trees might be in the way...\n\nAnyway, that's m'brain.",
"Hi and welcome to this space \nPlease remember to keep the pace \nAs we take a tour through this place. \n\nThe first thing you see to your right \nIs every sunset melting into the night \nIsn't it a beautiful sight? \n\nFlip through all the pages and you'll see \nThe gorgeous colors and silhouetted trees \nEnding every day that I'm allowed to be. \n\nThe next room on the left side \nis a special room where I like to hide \nThe ebb and flow of Love's tide. \n\nWarm and inviting, full and exciting \nsit in here a bit and find it enticing \nIt's difficult to leave, you might end up crying. \n\nKeep up, we have a bit more to go \nIn the center, we'll watch a show \nConsisting of all that ever was a woe \n\nThe hard times and the pain \nthe sad moments pouring down like rain \ndreams that were washed out the drain \n\nDon't get too depressed, here pull this rope \nIt's what I have used to cope. \nPull softly and you'll understand - it's hope. \n\nFor every pain and every hurt, every evil ploy \nEvery broken promise, every broken toy... \nOnly increased my capacity for greater joy. \n\nI've learned that the only thing in life to fear \nThe only thing of which to stay clear, \nIs indifference of your peer. \n\nSo when I say these words though they may be few \nBelieve me honestly, because they are true. \nI (without judgement or conditions) love you. \n\nThank you for taking this little tour \nit's getting late, we close at four, \nhere, I'll show you to the door... \n",
" The mind of suicidal ferret is a star fort under constant assault. The war is unending, the casualties constantly pouring into the infirmary. Many are lost as the medics have a basic understanding and keep making them drink water and take a knee.\n Why would such a fortress exist? Is it for entertainment of others? So far it seems as if it exists to attain and protect knowledge to be passed on. \n It's run by a committee of bickering scholars who seem to change their opinion for the others' at a moments notice; the final decision being made by a mad jester on the throne.\n Unbeknownst to most observers, there's an assassin. He aims to remove the jester and throw the gates wide for unknown. The jester knows though. After all, when everyone's out to get you, paranoia is just good thinking. Sometimes when he thinks the assassin is nearby, he'll shout \"Take me! End it already!\" He's sick of the constant fighting, the siege with no hope of relief.\n\nUltimately...he fights on.\n",
"Bored….Wait…why am I bored…I’m not sure what I am anymore…what do I want to do…Am I doing what I’m supposed to…My job is fun…But I want more…I love writing, but writing reports that no one cares about or even cares to read can be disheartening…My boss doesn’t even read them half the time…I know, because sometimes I will write a story inside the report just to see if anyone is listening…No response and I’ve been doing this for years…Interviewing people and asking uncomfortable questions…requesting answers they wouldn’t want their closest family members to know…It wears me down after awhile…should I be writing this…will anyone read this…it doesn’t matter…nothing really matters…in a hundred years we will all be dead and regardless of the amount of success I reach it will not matter one bit as no one will care to remember…should that depress me or motivate me to do something else…I’m not sure…uhoh…she’s looking at me…why is she looking at me…her arms are crossed and her brow is furrowed…I must have done something wrong…what did I do wrong…remember, remember, remember…damn…why can’t I remember…the click…she gave me the mouth click…this is bad…this is really bad…She was mumbling something earlier…maybe if I say, “Of course I was listening,” it will help…nope…now she’s screaming…this isn’t good…Drop the head…drop the head…there we go…now bite the lip…perfect…now meet your eyes with hers and done…now listen for a few moments…oh…yeah…I should have unplugged the sink…Let me get to that right now…let me just sneak the submission of this prompt into reddit first…crap…two submissions already…no one will read this now…no one was going to read this anyway…it’s all a jumbled mess…eh…what the hell…I’ll submit it anyway…at least I accomplished something fun today…It just posted...what!!...a third submission that came just before me...that's my luck...ugh",
"Hello everyone! Thank you for coming and please stay within the white line was we make our way through this tour! If you have any questions, forget about them, because this is a guided tour and your questions won't make any sense. Yes, I meant that, I'm not being funny.\n\n\nWe are standing currently at the entrance of this individual's mind. As many of you can already tell, it's a male, well done on you. For those interested, you will see the overall picture from here, he does *not* think about sexual intercourse every seven seconds. He thinks about it every so often. Over to the left, you have Friendship Valley. Why is it a valley? What did I say about questions? Anyways, you can see from here that it has high walls, protected on a constant basis and it is *not* a prison. It's a uptopia for all the thoughts of the mind reserved for his closest friends.\n\n\nAs we continue, directly ahead of us is the main thinking cortex. It's powerful, but it's not clever. Intelligence is relative ma'am, just like your face. Some may think you beautiful, but people are allowed to be *wrong*. You will notice that the storage area is large and has already been divided into several important sections. Notice that *Adventure Time* is becoming a permanent part of this storage and is currently under construction.\n\n\nComing up on our left, you will see the Spite and Anger, Fear and Distrust part of the individual's mind. Of course it's large, have you seen what's on the internet? Makes your blood boil. It's storage unit for images and videos is fairly small, but we all make mistakes by focusing on one specific moment, don't we all? Question? Well, I don't have an answer. Onto the next portion!\n\n\nHere we have the creativity filter and thought process creation. It look complex, but if you look at the diagram, then you'll discover it's rather simple. No ma'am, again, no questions. Nor do I have the time or crayons to describe this for you. One of the things that is currently on this individual's mind is writing out stories, specifically on a typewriter. But since he doesn't want to appear hipster, he's going for a pretentious gamer look with a mechanical keyboard, colored like a toy. An interesting exhibit indeed. \n\n\nOh! And look! You can see the latest thing this individual is working on! It's a short story about describing the inner parts of your mind. Who knows? Maybe he took the prompt a little bit too literally, but I think we can all imagine that it's bound to fail. Next!\n\n\nThe last exhibit. Of course. You'll find that this doesn't get too many hits or pictures, mainly because it's the portion of the mind that controls sadness. Oh yes, this part generates so much doubt and depression, that sometimes he thinks about- No, he's not suicidal. That button there? Don't push it sir, get back into line. Sir? Am I going to have to ca-, SECURITY! GET THAT MAN BEFORE HE PUSHES TH-",
"You're at work. The work you do is not very serious, but everyone pretends it is, and everyone treats you like you're the only one that can do it - *not* because they're incapable, and *not* because they can't find someone else - but you're the only one more willing to do it for the agreed price.\n\nYour supervisor is a neo-Nazi. He doesn't want to be, and strives extremely hard to radiate a nice-guy persona - but he weathers you down to do his bidding via passive-aggressive remarks designed to massage your ego and once again remind you of your place. Despite this strange heirarchy, he still wants to be your friend - but the last time you opened up to him, he spilled your secrets to everyone else. You never let him in again, but he keeps trying, and everyone thinks you're extremely rude for rebuffing his friendship so often.\n\nIt begins to affect his performance, and upsets the general work dynamic, with coworkers tiptoeing around both you and him. Restoring balance requires you to sacrifice your social life at work; you become humorless and distant with everyone in order for him to not take it all so personally.\n\nIt works, and you spend your lunches alone; you prefer it in some weird way - an hour to yourself where you leave the building and find a nice sunny (or dry) patch and just watch the world go by. If you're lucky, an old school friend meets you for lunch. If not, no matter - you'll talk to a stranger if they smile at you.\n\nRoutine is important for you; it's a reaffirmation of self-control and proof that you are capable of keeping yourself in check. You have control, no one else, and they can't take it away from you. \n\nYou do the same thing day-in-day-out Monday to Friday: Work, Gym, TV. It's not much but it keeps you happy. It's either that or the anti-depressants and too many of your friends are unhappily dependent upon them for you to even consider medication as an option. \n\nYou're not depressed. You've never really been depressed, you're just underwhelmed with life. You thought there'd be more. You spend five minutes in bed every morning willing yourself to get up. You stopped inventing reasons a long time ago - now it's just dogmatic.\n\nWeekends you go crazy. None of your safegaurds apply, there is no routine for you to follow. It's just you, alone, staring up at the ceiling, blood pumping with a restlessness that won't go away until you run it off. You need a woman, and not just in a physical way. You think about the future, and though you always seem optimistic about what the world could be like - you always draw a blank when it comes to your own life."
] | 9
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[WP] You've just been given the chance to see when and how you die. You took it.
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"i have just realised that i\nhave more in common than i thought , with a pie\nbecause i cut said pie , with my butchers knife\nwhilst looking , at my beautiful wife\nonly to realise that i \nhad actually slaughtered everyone in my life\nand would now be baked with forty blackbirds in a pie.",
"I mean, it could've been worse. It could have been something extremely painful, like a car accident, or cancer, or being murdered. Actually, I was really surprised it wasn't that last one; I guess people didn't hate me as much as I thought. That, and it meant that Jacob would probably never find out about what had really happened to his obnoxiously loud yippity-yappity little dog. \n\nI cracked a smile. \n\n\"…Well, that's rather comforting, actually.\"",
"I thought I wanted to know how it would end. I was so wrong. Now I cannot stand the thought of dying like that, trapped, burning, misery. I thought for sure it would be a good thing to know. I predicted a far off date, I hoped I would be old, surrounded by family. Should I tell everyone? Or should I just start my drive home today, knowing that I won't make it all the way."
] | 3
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clash of rebellions?
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[WP] Multiple coups d'état attempt to overthrow a kingdom at the same time
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"The king gazed out the window, watching his kingdom burn without the slightest hint of unease. Unlike what the common people thought, he was not entirely a fool.\n\nHis army had deserted him. The nobles had refused him. The peasants had rebelled against him.\n\nHe turned from the macabre sight laid out before him. The King, instead, turned to the intricate pattern his old man servant had created upon the floor.\n\nAlready, he could hear a clamour of voices ascend up the stars. Amid \nThe cacaphony, he could hear General Ander, Lord Evensworth, and Red Rya, famed heads of each separate insurgency.\n\n A grin spread across his gaunt face. Callously, he knocked the candle onto the ground, igniting the design made of oil.\n\nAs they had chanted, the king would burn.\n\nBut he would not burn alone.",
"The doors to the throne room burst open, or at least, as quickly as gold-plated doors can burst open when they're ridiculously oversized and overweight. In marched the twenty peasant leaders of the Peasant's Resistance, come to overthrow my kingdom. Behind them, the doors slowly swung shut, pushed back by their own weight. I was very proud of my doors. I had to draft two thousand peasants to rebuild my summer palace specifically on a sloping hill so the doors would do that. You should see my winter palace.\n\nI stayed in my chair, even though they didn't bow. It would take them a few minutes to cross the room, climb the steps, and reach my throne. My guards waited solemnly at the foot of the throne, each standing stiffly in their suits of armor, holding their swords. Only the Royal Guard were permitted swords, and they had served my family since my great-great-grandfather, the First King, had bestowed them this honor.\n\nThe doors were creaking open again, more slowly this time. The merchants too? I would be shocked, but it didn't matter. The Guard would deal with them too, in time. I nearly laughed (but didn't, it wouldn't be kingly) at seeing their unfit bodies heave against the doors. The merchants never do physical labor, of course, with so many peasants in the labor force. I had thought that would be incentive enough for them to back me. Behind them, the doors closed again. The peasants, meanwhile, had made it halfway across the room. I sometimes wonder if my throne room could use an expansion. \n\nI heard marching outside. The doors open, and two dozen women from the King's Royal Army march in, holding their spears. They seemed furious, for some reason, but they looked as gorgeous as ever. My personal army, of course, is entirely women. Not only are they more ferocious in battle, but the peacetime uniform I commissioned for them is, well, quite satisfactory to look at. They too had turned against me, even though I had deigned to bestow them each with a night of my time.\n\nThe peasants had reached the Royal Guard now. In a swift move, the Guards swung their swords in wide arcs, decapitating the first row. They suddenly jabbed, and the Peasant Revolution Delegation of the Peasant Revolution was no more. \n\n\"Good, good!\" I cackled. \"The ones who have blood on their swords, you may keep them. The rest, you have failed in your duties. Relinquish your swords!\"\n\nThe Guards turned as one. No swords were relinquished. What? Are they part of this too? \n\nFrantic, I turned to my side and pulled my personal lever, the King's Lever of First Resort. The steps to my throne sank into the ground. I was now unreachable on my high dais. Behind me, my defenses were engaged, and water surged into the room, in gushing torrents. Everyone in the room, besides me of course, ran for the door. \n\nAs the water level rose, the room was too large for all but a few to reach it. They tried futilely to pull the doors, as to pull them back would be to pull them uphill, with the weight of the water against them.\n\nI waited. After enough time, even those who could swim lost their strength trying to scale the marble keeping my throne high above them. They drowned.\n\nI pulled the lever back, and spoke with my regal voice. \"Do they have to try this EVERY week?\"",
"\"Oh my...\" Said the wise woman, staring at the spreading pile of bile.\n\n\"I didn't... I didn't think we'd all go for him at once.\" Said the blacksmith as the sight of the kings smushed head under his anvil caused him to shudder.\n\n\"You know you could've all saved me some trouble by attending the resistance meetings as scheduled.\" Said the master of arms as he pulled the dagger from the side of the kings torso. \n\n\"You're just lucky you were crouched at the time otherwise you would've been crushed by that heroic anvil toss.\" Replied the jester as he stepped out from under the dripping severed leg dangling from a rope tied to the ceiling. \n\n\"I don't know anything about no resistance meetings,\" chimed the cook, fishing his lucky wishbone back from the kings open gullet, \"I just wanted the tyrant gone.\"\n\nThe chief advisor patted out the flaming forearms of the former monarch. \"Given the amount of trouble we put this ruler through, I don't think I want to take his place.\"\n\nEveryone stared at the floor and kicked imaginary nothings. \n\nFinally the stable boy piped up, \"how about we draw straws to see who leads us?\" \n\nEveryone agreed this seemed like a good idea, thus democracy was born.\n"
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[WP] They have to choose who to eat. they are starving.
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"\"There is literally an apple tree right there. Why the aren't we eating those?\"\n\n\"Really Dave? Really? Come on, let's be real here.\"\n\n\"Uhhh, Jenny. I think that's a good idea. We've been walking for days without eating. Why wouldn't we eat app-\"\n\n\"Fuck you Michelle, no one asked you!\"\n\n\"Michelle, what do you think of apples? See now I've asked her.\"\n\n\"Thanks Dave. Now, we can all agree we are starving yes?\"\n\n\"Yes Michelle.\"\n\n\"Yeah no shit, Michelle, what's your point?\"\n\n\"My point, Jenny, is that there is a FUCKING APPLE TREE literally one hundred feet away.\"\n\n\"Uhhh Michelle..?\"\n\n\"Yeah Dave?\"\n\n\"I think I see Jenny's point.\"\n\n\"Which is?\"\n\n\"We ate our legs already.\"\n\n\"..........Oh shit. Sorry Jenny.\"\n\n\"Fuck you Michelle. Ok. So let's figure out where we are at. We are hungry, lost, and we've already eaten our legs. Can we all agree we are screwed? What the fuck are you trying to say Dave?\"\n\n\"Uhhh, not to be a Debbie Downer or anything, but I think there's something else bad.\"\n\n\"Oh for fuck's sake, Dave. What?!\"\n\n\"I'm hungry.\"\n\n\"We covered that.\"\n\n\"No, like for realsies hungry. You gonna eat that?\"\n\n\"What? I don't have any food. Remember, we had to eat our legs?\"\n\n\"Michelle.\"\n\n\"Yeah?\"\n\n\"No, I'm not talking to you, Michelle.\"\n\n\"Then, why'd you say my name?\"\n\n\"Jenny, you going to eat that?\"\n\n\"WHAT?\"\n\n\"Michelle.\"\n\n\"WHAT? Stop saying my name.\"\n\n\"Shut up Michelle, please. I'm not talking to you. Jenny, are you going to eat Michelle?\"\n\n\"Wait what?! You can't eat me!\"\n\n\"Michelle, please, Dave and I are talking. I mean, I was going to snack on her this evening, but I don't mind sharing.\"\n\n\"Hold the fuck up. Don't I get a say in this?\"\n\n\"Dave, be a dear and cover her mouth. I don't like noisy food. Never could stand popcorn.\"\n\n\"No problem Jenny. Do you still have that knife?\"\n\n\"Wait! Guys, don't do this! Please!\"\n\n\"Jenny?\"\n\n\"What now?\"\n\n\"She said please.\"\n\n\"So?\"\n\n\"My mom told me to always respect someone who says please.\"\n\n\"Thank you Dave.\"\n\n\"You're welcome Michelle. Now Jenny, I can't eat her now. She asked me to please not eat her.\"\n\n\"Really Dave, are you really that simple minded.\"\n\n\"Well that was a bit harsh. Don't you think, Michelle?\"\n\n\"Oh yes, I totally agree, Dave. Now what?\"\n\n\"Michelle, can I tell you a secret? You have to promise not to tell Jenny.\"\n\n\"OY! You can't do that. You can't just tell her a secret right in front of me.\"\n\n\"Sure I can. Hey Michelle. I-\"\n\n\"Please!!\"\n\n\"Well shoot. Sorry Michelle, I guess I'll have to hold onto that secret.\"\n\n\"Wow, you really are simple. Jenny was right.\"\n\n\"See, Michelle, I told you he was easy to control.\"\n\n\"Wait! Hold the phone now!\"\n\n\"Dave?\"\n\n\"Yeah Michelle?\"\n\n\"What's that in your hand?\"\n\n\"Uhh it's a phone Michelle. Duh!\"\n\n\"Michelle?\"\n\n\"Yeah?\"\n\n\"Smack Dave for me.\"\n\n\"OW!! Well that was a trite uncalled for if I do say so myself.\"\n\n\"You have a phone?\"\n\n\"Yep! Right here. I always keep a second one around in case I tell someone to hold the phone.\"\n\n\"Does it work?\"\n\n\"Uhh... Yeah. I'm not going to have someone hold a dead phone. What would the point of that be?\"\n\n\"Jenny?\"\n\n\"Yup?\"\n\n\"Smack Dave and take his phone. Then smack him again.\"\n\n\"OW!!\"\n\n\"Do you have a signal?\"\n\n\"THAT HURT!!\"\n\n\"Shut up Dave, you moron. Do you have a signal, Jenny?\"\n\n\"Please call 9-1-1. Tell them there's two of us lost in the woods, starving, and we are missing our legs.\"\n\n\"Hold up! Jenny? I think Michelle miscounted. There's three of us.\"\n\n\"Sorry Dave, they are going to take hours to find us and we are hungry.\"\n\n\"B-but! I don't want to get eaten Michelle. I don't think that sounds very fun.\"\n\n\"A few minutes ago you were all willing to eat me. But you won't let us eat you?\"\n\n\"Heck no, Techno! I'm a man. I can't let you girls eat me.\"\n\n\"Please, Dave? Pleeeaaaaassse?\"\n",
"Chipper, Brown, and I were deserted in the middle of nowhere. The air was hazy, humid on one side, but also interestingly dry on the other just a few inches away - it was literally just a split between the hot conditions, and the moist and damp atmosphere. This was a rather peculiar weather condition that should be documented for our studies.\n\nThe ground felt like mulch, you know the kind to fertilize your trees and bushes? Us three separated as soon as possible to gather information of the perimeter of where we decided to investigate this strange alien like habitat.\n\nWe should have brought food before we dared to explore the unknown. We all panicked, worried, our hearts pounding, scurrying and running around in circles, not knowing where to go now since we were so far away from home; it would take us at least a few weeks to get back to our previous location. Chipper seemed to be the least tolerant from the absence of food for a few days, whereas Brown and I had some undigested food still running down our intestines. He started to breath more heavily, his eyes looking at a single position for at least what seemed like more than twelve hours, like as if he had locked into another dimension.\n\nThat's when Chipper decided to take desperate measures; commit cannibalism.\n\nHe immediately rushed over to Brown and start jamming his 'claws' into his own brother, as if it was every man for himself. This harrowing and devastating mess is not what we ever thought would happen in our journey.\n\n\n\n\nThat's when I realized what Chipper had been staring at this whole time. It was surreal to say we were put in a tarantula's terrarium for its food.\n",
"They have to choose who to eat. \n\nThey are starving.\n\nSo. \n\nAre. \n\nYou. \n\nHunger claws up from inside of you, deep and heavy and choking.\n\nYou groan.\n\nYour hands shake and your feet tremble. \n\nYou haven’t eaten in so long. \n\nNeither have they. \n\nBut you know this - all of you will eat soon. \n\nWell, most. \n\nBut patiences is a virtue. You haven’t lived this long just to rush a meal, to pluck a fruit from its tree before it is ripe. \n\nThey may call you a monster, but you are no savage. \n\nSo you wait. \n\nWait for your meal to break, wait for the monster called hunger to crawl its way out of them. Wait for them to turn on one another. To devour one another. \n\nAnd when that happens, you will feast. ",
"\"They have to choose who to eat,\" Miranda said, her voice solemn. \"They are starving.\" \n\nShe turns the page, cracking the spine to flatten the words against the table. She was alone in her room, the glow of her computer screen turning the walls blue. She could hear the soft sighs on the other end of the phone, Gretchen trying to hold back her giggles. They weren't supposed to read this sort of thing, *romance* novels were forbidden. \n\n\"But they knew who would be first. They took hold of Candy's arms and dragged her onto the white bed...\" Miranda stopped, her voice going off like a TV. She let the book close, head tilting to the side. \"Hold on. I heard something.\" \n\nGretchen fell silent. Then, with a shaky goodbye, she hung up the phone. "
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A twisted redux of /u/PersonalMeditations 's prompt "At 10:32pm you die. Seconds later you wake up"
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[WP] After a valiant attempt at survival, you're overtaken and fed on...and awaken as a zombie with limited memory. Through context clues, describe how you must've spent your last living moments.
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"His injuries, the aches of his wounds, all of it faded away, and the gnawing pain of hunger grew in him. It grew and grew until everything else was just numbness. The only thing that awoke inside him was the unquenchable starvation. It was a raw desire that drove him. He needed to satisfy the hunger that consumed him. ",
"*[Well until other people reply I guess here's my original from PersonalMeditation's prompt...]*\n\nI am conscious.\n\nThere are no bearings. I remember that I have five senses, and try to communicate with them. The first to respond are my ears...\n\nSloppy saliva sounds. Wet chewing and soft ripping. A moving mouth is close to my ear, louder than the others, licking at something that squishes. I hear a snap from lower down, and something about it is unsettling. Multiple mouths around me. \n\nThere is slight pressure at my neck--just for a second--and I remember that I possess nerve endings. I know that I should *feel*. I should feel *things*, but the twinge is gone so quick that now there is no thing. I want more. Perhaps somewhere else in my body will respond. I mentally reach out around me, hoping something will come back, some message will work up my spine and into my brain.\n\nI can feel my right knee. It is bent. My left buttock twitches, and I know that that leg is straight. I am lying on the ground. Yes. What else do I have? Torso. No feeling in my torso. Arms? No feeling in my arms. Maybe if I encourage them.\n\nI let my shoulders flex and wiggle, but there is no response past them. Perhaps my arms are gone. I will concentrate on my legs.\n\nAnother twinge from my neck--and I am distracted. Somehow I know that the closest mouth is causing it. I don't like it. I want it to stop. Its loudness is making me angry and I want to silence it, to push it far away. I want all the mouths to shut up and get away. It's unbearable, suddenly unbearable, their disgusting eating noises and I *must*. *make*. *them.* STOP.\n\nA horrible scream rips through the air, a rough shrieking declaration of anger and I'm proud of it, in awe of its power. It's terrifyingly primal, a raw emotional release that cuts through the other sounds, loudening to a crescendo--and then it's over. Cut off by snapped vocal chords. The silence rings.\n\nThen, more noises. Movement. The mouths are quiet, and dirt is scuffed against. Shuffles. Clumsy footsteps getting quieter. I am alone.\n\nI will focus. What other senses? Sight. I should engage it. But where do I ask? I want to *open*. Open a thing. And suddenly my eyelids do.\n\nThe sky is dark and wide, but an industrial light cuts through. It's attached to a metal pole via a long, snaking wire, its bulb meant to light a mass of wood and metal. A construction site. The horizontal beam above me has a smattering of blood on its edge, and far above it is a ladder to the top of the structure. I do not like those two things. I want to look away.\n\nBut my head will not turn. I try harder to control my neck, and a tiny muscle shivers, but it's not enough. My legs will help me.\n\nI'm able to lift one, and my right leg swings around and my foot is set on the ground. The knee is loose, its joint stretched an odd direction, but it's the only place for my concentration and so I decide I will command it regardless. My left leg functions well in contrast, and so I use them both.\n\nStraighten my legs. Bend them. Straighten my legs--dig my heels into the dirt--bend them--drag my body centimeters forward. Straighten. Bend. It is difficult. Straighten. Bend.\n\nAs I drag my body forward, little bits at a time, my head lolligags and falls to the side and I see something new. A large red truck rests on the ground nearby, overturned and crashed on its side, last bits of smoke curling up from under the cinder block stack that pins it in place. I feel bad for it. It's close enough to touch, and I want to go to it, but I know that I can't. Through its back windshield, I see the dash clock. 10:38pm.\n\nThe time is significant. I cannot remember why. Movement catches my eye--the rearview mirror. It's reflecting me. There's blood and skin but I'm not sure what I'm looking at...until I scrape forward enough that my face is in view.\n\nI let my legs flop and relax, and lie still at an odd angle, squinting to see what I can. It's shocking. I do not look like I should be alive. I hope I'll die soon.\n\nAgain, I correct myself. I hope I'll die again soon.\n\nAs the blood continues to ebb out from my partially snapped neck and bite-ravaged arms, I know that the smell will draw more of them over soon. At 10:32pm I fell to my death trying to escape the walkers. By 10:38 I became one.\n\nI try to work my legs again. Someone should be by to kill me soon. Until then, I don't want to look at my face anymore.\n\nBend. Straighten. Bend."
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Hope to see a lot of fun responses!
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[WP] You're a mortal superhero with plenty of normal weaknesses, but you also have a very secret and silly phobia. Your archenemy just accidentally stumbled upon it.
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"\"Do you want to know true power? Fear. Fear is a little itch in the back of your head that never goes away. A germ. A pathogen. I just harnessed it.\"\n\nHe wasn't wrong. This thing I have become. This batman- they call me. The Batman. It's all stemmed from fear. One of the last memories I hold on to, of my father. And a cave. Bats. I don't remember much, except fear. So I became the only thing that truly terrorized me. A bat. It'd be a silly guise if brought on by a maniac like him. And I suppose it is with me as well. But to the right people... They're scared of me just as much as I am.\n\n\"What are you afraid of? I can find it.\"\nI know he can. \"Scarecrow... I'm not afraid of you.\" He glanced back at me. \"I'm counting on it.\"\n\nBats. Wings flapping, hairs brushing. A swarm of screaming, flying rats. Fangs. Bats everywhere. The air overtaken with them. Screeching. Soaring. On my face- clawing. Brushing. Hairs. I can't see. I can't smell. But I can hear- a thousand bats screaming at one another. At me. Scarecrow. Right there. In the swarm.\n\n\"I've just hit the last stable stage of your psyche. You have at most, a minute before you die. What are you truly afraid of, Bruce?\"\n\nThe bats depart. They're gone. Scarecrow backs up, inching towards the wall. In front of him, something reflective slides in. Facing me. A mirror. In it, me, without the costume. Without the anger. Without the Batman. Bruce Wayne, wasting his money. Leaving his city to rot. The playboy I pretend to be. When this reflection of me dies, he will leave nothing behind except his parent's bags of money that he threw at anyone who could catch them. He wasted himself. Is this my deepest fear?\n\n\"Bruce. Was it worth it? This?\" Scarecrow questions. \"What you've done here, becoming this Batman, did it matter?\" I'm too tired to answer him. Too tired to say, \"It's the only thing that did.\"\n\nThe bats flock in from the vents. Overtaking the dark room once again with their dusty wings and horrible screeching. Nothing. Darkness, and the screams of the bats.\n\nAnd then, it's quiet.",
"\"...After all this time, *this* is what scares you?\" The Reaper's voice was incredulous, though somewhat distorted by his helmet's filter. \n\n\"Ahuagafik,\" Entropy responded intelligently. His nemesis merely shook his head in bewilderment, triggering the mechanism on his grappling hook to start pulling them back up. His arm was wrapped tight around Entropy's waist, keeping the hero steady to avoid him dropping into the death trap below.\n\nTalk about a job gone wrong. He'd been hired to steal a priceless diamond - a cliched enough job that he supposed he ought to have been suspicious, but he'd gone for it nonetheless. Entropy had stopped enough of his more recent jobs that he needed the money, and there was no way that the hero would know about this particular job; it was on some obscure island out in the middle of the ocean...\n\nIn retrospect, that should have been his second clue.\n\nEntropy had been tipped off and had come to stop him. From what he'd managed to gather before the man had gone slack in his arms and started muttering unintelligibly, he'd been informed that he'd come to the island to activate some sort of Doomsday device.\n\n\"Really, I'm almost hurt,\" he told the incoherent hero. \"I'm not *that* insane. You should know that by now.\"\n\nAs it turned out, it had been a trap for the both of them. No surprise there. A field to cancel out Entropy's probability manipulation - how *that* had been developed he was very much curious about - and traps he couldn't circumvent with his cellular control. He’d come prepared, of course. What little intelligence there had been had been correct, and for that he was thankful. \n\nNow there was just the matter of getting the both of them to safety. Entropy might have ruined many a plan of his, but he was still a challenge the Reaper relished. Hopefully this… event… didn’t change that. \n\n---\n\nAs soon as they were outside of the field, Entropy’s powers kicked in – which is to say a stray wind swept the remaining petals off his suit of armor. The hero in question pulled himself rather abruptly out of the Reaper’s arms.\n\n“Seriously, flowers?” The villain glared. “I change myself into my enemies’ greatest fears, and yours was *flowers*?” He’d thought when the turrets shot petals instead of bullets at them that Entropy’s powers had kicked in – but no, whoever had set the trap was apparently just very well informed. \n\n“You can’t change into that,” Entropy grumbled, embarrassed.\n\n“No, but I can just bring you some,” the Reaper responded, folding his arms. \n\n“Ahuagafik,” Entropy responded again. \n\n“Don’t give me that. There aren’t any flowe- Are you blushing?” A pause, followed by a slight narrowing of the eyes. “…Alright, you know what? You clearly need some training to get over this phobia of yours.”\n\n“What... uh… did you have something in mind?” Definitely blushing. \n\n“We’re going out for dinner. I’m bringing you flowers.”\n\n“…It’s a date? I… guess? I can’t tell if you’re being romantic or sadistic.”\n\n“You are the only person in the *world* who thinks that’s sadistic.”\n\n---\n\ntl;dr I'm a sucker for romance and might have gone off on a tangent, sorry. "
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Edit: messed up and put he when it wasn't needed
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[WP] In his old age Superman he faces issues associated with aging such as: hearing loss, worsening eyesight, memory problems, etc. despite these issues he refuses to hang up his cape.
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"The Mayor sat at his desk, eyes closed, fingers gently massaging the bridge of his nose. His headache was getting worse.\n\n\"Sir...?\" asked his autoattendant tentatively, standing in the doorway to the mayors office. \"Sir, I said the commissioner of the transportation department is holding for vidcon, and he's...\"\n\n\"Yeah, yes, I heard you. Umm. Let him hold for a minute. I thought we adressed this the last time. I thought he understood that the levtrains...\"\n\n\"Yes, sir, yes, we did...but, he...well, he forgets things sir.\" \n\n\"Ugh, don't I know it. Ok. Where is he?\"\n\n\"The comissioner? Oh, he's...\"\n\n\"No, no. Where is Clark?\"\n\n\"Oh. Sorry. He's in the lobby.\" \n\n\"Get him in here, will you?\"\n\nHe was wearing the suit, of course. These days he never took it off. It was dirty, and it smelled like urine. He came shuffling into the room, back bent, muttering to himself. The aide followed behind, clearly uncomfortable. \"Clark,\" the mayor said, forcing a broad smile, \"have a seat.\"\n\n\"Wha?\" said Superman. \"Sorry, say again?\"\n\n\"HAVE. A. SEAT. CLARK.\" The mayor enunciated loudly, still smiling. The autoattendant retreated into the outer office.\n\n\"Clark? Well, son, I don't know who...\"\n\n\"Sorry,\" the mayor sighed. \"Superman. Please. Have a seat.\"\n\n\"Mr. Mayor, I appreciate the thought, but there's no need for thanks. No need for all the fanfare. I've been protecting this city for over 200 years, and I don't expect a parade every time I save some lives. It's my pleasure, son.\"\n\nThe mayor sighed again. \n\n\"Superman...listen...about the train...\"\n\n\"Oh, I know all about that new train system! Nothing but trouble! Always running out of control! Flying off the tracks. Why, just today, I had to stop one of them from killing hundreds of...\"\n\n\"Yes, yes, I know. Look Cla...Superman, those trains...do you understand they don't *have* tracks? They use microlevetation technology.\" He began waving a hand over his holosphere, toggling images of the Metropolis train routes, images of the trains themselves. \"Technology you helped develop, over 50 years ago.\" He continued \"Which we are all still very grateful for, to be sure but...\"\n\nThe mayor looked up to see that Superman had nodded off. There was a thin runnel of drool falling from the downsloping corner of his mouth.\n\n\"Clark,\" He said gently. Nothing. \"CLARK!\"\nSuperman sat bolt upright. He loosed a small blast of heat vision, scorching the corner of the Mayors desk. His crotch also showed a small wet spot. \n\n\"Wha! Who! Where am I?\" He sputtered. Luthor! What foul game is this!?\"\n\n\"Superman, you fell asleep. Listen, about the trains...\"\n\n\"What have you done to the trains!? Nevermind, I'll find out soon enough!\"\n\nAnd with that, he crashed out through the window, weaving a drunken zig zag across the sky and into the distance. The wind blew in through the shattered glass, further disheveling the Mayors office. He put his head in his hands and exhaled heavily. As he lifted his head, a grim look of determination darkened his face. Absently, he waved a hand through the holosphere. Immediately, the face of the autoatendant appeared in his doorframe. \n\n\"Sir? The transportation commissioner is still waiting. Shall I\"\n\n\"No, tell him I'll have to get back to him. I need you to get me the warden from the maxsec cryoprison on the vid. Immediately.\"\n\nA few seconds later, the face of a meek, mousy looking man appeared in the air above the Mayors desk. \n\n\"Mr. Mayor,\" He said nervously. \"Wh-wh-what can I d-do for you.\"\n\n\"Hello Irvin, how's the Mrs.?\" the Mayor asked tiredly. Without waiting for a response, he continued \"listen, I'm heading down there today, and I need you to de-thaw prisoner 67090 immediately.\" \n\n\"But s-s-sir!\"\n\n\"I need to speak to my great grandfather Irwin. Don't make me ask you twice. You remember that little \"indescression\" last summer? We wouldn't wan't...\"\n\n\"Ahh...yes sir. Sorry sir. Right away, Mayor Luthor. When should we expect you?\"\n",
"Smoke billowed from the Metropolis skyline as they drove empty streets to the damaged Daily Planet building. The iconic planet atop the roof stood askew. Blocks away, Lexcorp tower burned. \n\nDriving the car, a gray-templed man, with a widow's peak of black hair, eyed the damage. \"I always thought the Daily Planet's reporting was a little slanted.\"\n\n\"You always had too dark a sense of humor to really hit the mark on a one-liner.\", a withered but gravelly voice shot back from the rear seat. \"Take me to the Planet building. He will be there.\"\n\nSuperman had been in a downward spiral since Lois died. She had held him together since well before Lex's funeral. She had always been his rock. The courage of that woman, and they way she fought through the pain of her cancer, inoperable, even by our standards. She was an inspiration. Little of that mattered now. \n\nThe car parked 15 feet from where James Olsen shot his first Pulitzer prize winning shot of Superman catching Lois. Directly in front of the Daily Planet's revolving door. An evacuation order had been in place for over a day and the streets were eerily quiet. The driver stepped out of the car and opened up the back door. A rubberized knob thumped against the sidewalk as the old man leaned heavily on his cane. His firm grip of the handle and some shuddering of the cane, reflected how much the old man needed the support of it.\n\nThe driver began to speak, \"I can do this if you...\" His sentence cut off with an abrupt \"No!\" from the old man. \"It has to be me. It has always been my job.\" \n\nHobbling slowly, he pushed his way through the revolving door, and into the foyer of the Planet. The art- deco design of the foyer, outdated by decades of architecture design, still stood in the face of anyone who took in this marvelous building. Even in tatters, it was still something to behold. He raised his cane to the elevator button. Nothing. Nothing had ever come easy for him, why should that change now, he thought to himself.\n\nThe nerves in his back, long damaged and degraded by time and life, shrieked as he lifted his leg to the first of the stairs. Despite him having little to do with the pain in his back, he muttered a curse. \"Damn you Luthor.\"\n\nLuthor died a damned hero. It turned out, HE was the man for the job, the last time Brainiac came calling, and it will be the last time. Despite Lex's ego, the greater portion of his 12'th level intellect understood the meaning of sacrifice in the name of humanity. The funeral though, it reminded us all, who he was in life. \n\nAching, with thumps of the cane, the old man climbed higher to the press office of The Planet's newsroom. Again, his mind wandered to the funeral of Lex Luthor. All of us were there.\n\nNoone was surprised he had the forehought to eulogize himself via a pre-recorded hologram of himself. Twenty minutes in to his own eulogy, it took a stange turn to the bizarre, or the Bizarro, it would be more accurate to say. Luthor had made the creatures scores of times in an effort to discover the secrets of the kryptonian genome. The bastard hologram boasted of a gift for all of humanity. That's when the gas began pumping from the air ducts. Before anyone else could leap into action, Superman had dealt with it. Super-Breath, Hh. Within minutes, we had the Joker in custody. The old man recalled the unease he had at the time as he came back to find Superman embracing his cousin. \"Collaring the Joker seemed to easy. I don't like it.\"\n\nSupergirl turned, shedding a tear as she looked. \"It wasn't about the Joker. It was Lex going after Kal, one last time. Only Kal and I heard his message with our hearing.\"\n\nSuperman interjected, \"It's not Joker toxin I inhaled, it is Bizarro. Kara can already see it in my brain, I can see it in my body.\n\nYears later, it has come to this. The old man, the weight of his body, and what he carried made the last few steps seem super-human. He turned the knob, and entered the Daily Planet newsroom.\n\nSuperman had saved Kara that day, by taking the entirety of the Bizarro toxin into himself. Kara had seen to Clark with, and after Lois. Whatever measures she had put in place to prevent this had failed and he allowed himself a moment to wonder if she was alive. He looked across the newsroom. \n\nWhat used to be Superman huddled over a desk, tick-tacking a keyboard. An ashen face, wrinkled by time and hardened by the Bizarro, stared with cold and faded blue eyes at a blank computer screen. A pair of crooked glasses, stood upon the bridge of his nose. The uniform that once spoke truth to power, for hope and justice, laid awkwardly on his body, soiled, and torn.\n\nThe old man hobbled towards the desk, The pale eyes looked up. \"Bruce? Long see and no time! Me am so busy left now. Clark can't find the words so I am not here to help.\" The disheveled creature stood up and reached out as if to shake hands.\n\nThe old man grimaced, this could still go bad, he thought to himself. \"It is good to see you Clark. Don't worry, I only came by to visit while running errands on business. I won't keep you from your work.\" The old man's stomach sank and his voice cracked a little. It felt like the Alley, so very long ago.\n\n\"Me am sad you stopped by. Lois is not coming back soon with lunch, if you have time to go.\" Bizarro-Clark beamed a smile at the old man. The old man's grip trembled on his cane. The weight he had carried, so long, and so far finally would be lifted.\n\n\"Sorry Clark, I have to go. How about a hug for an old friend though.\"\n\nBizarro-Clark-Superman pulled the old man close in a surprisingly tender embrace. \"You have never been my worst friend. Come back not a once. I will not be here. Please don't miss me.\"\n\nThe old man wriggled a bit as the leg of the cane came loose from the handle. The leg clacked on the ground. That noise was secondary to the loud bang of the cane-gun as it's lone kryptonite bullet tore through the heart of the once great Superman. \n\nThe old man crumpled to the ground with the creature, unable to hold back the tears any longer. The great Superman lay dying in his arms. The eyes of Superman stared into his. Kal began to mutter, \"Y-y-you're welcome Bruce.\" It pained the creature as he smiled one last white wide toothed smile. The old man cried as the smile faded. All Bruce could see were pearls.",
"Earth had long since collapsed. Millenia ago, Metropolis was bustling with life. He remembered those days fondly. He was young and foolish. He just wanted to help.\n\nTime passed, and Humanity turned. Once, they praised him, then, they began to hate him. They began to turn their backs on him.\n\nFor a while, those he had called his comrades stood beside him, but, even they began to fear him. Before long, He was cast away from humanity, Yet, he refused to leave\n\nThe hate rose in him like a slow burning fire. He could not stand the isolation. The pain, it was just too much.\n\nHe snapped.\n\nHe remembered their screams for mercy. The fear in their eyes haunted his every waking moment.\n\nHe has long forgotten the people from his past. His mind, unable to cope, broke down.\n\nHe wanders the ruined city, an old man. Still pretending he was his old self. Even though there was nobody left."
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[WP] Marvel introduces a new superhero: The Redditor.
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"I stare at the screen, and know this is my call of duty.\nCat pictures and funny videos, my treasure, my booty.\nHere I am adored, I am a bringer of love.\nI am invincible, no fights nor push nor shove. \n\nI scan my favorite subs to see what people have posted,\n'REPOST!' \n'REPOST!'\nand 'Justin Bieber getting roasted' \n\nThis site is going wayward,\nno love for the moderators,\nSo as hero's we stand in arms,\nModern day gladiators.\n\nMy cape is my keyboard,\nMy weapon my mouse,\nnow look at this funny video I made,\nI mean it was made by my spouse!\n\nNo! I must stop procrastinating, \nflossing...\nmasturbating...\nThere is a real problem here,\nthat needs exterminating!\n\nI am a hero, a warrior.\nA moderator\nI will save this site,\nas I am the Redditor!\n\nI will defeat the enemy,\nthe only time is now,\njoin the call my brothers! \nAnd take down Ellen Pao!\n\nThe fight has ended and we are victorious,\nwe return to our subs, adored and glorious.\nI return to my snack of tasty shwarma,\nready to reap my delicious karma.\n\nWhat will today bring,\nsadness, joy, laughter? \nAll I know is I remain king\nHere happy ever after.\n\nCOMING FALL 2015\n\n",
"\"Oh no,\" said the President of the United States, \"The Red Skull's strapped all of The Avengers to a nuclear missile, and is aiming it toward the the White House! Who will stop him now?!\"\n\n\"Fear not, citizens!\" a deep voice boomed, \"It is I...\"\n\nWith a flourish of white and orange cloth, he appeared.\n\n\"The Redditor!\" declared the superhero in his stylized alien suit.\n\n\"How will you save us?!\" cried the President, in euphoric awe of THe Redditor's presence.\n\n\"Why,\" with a stylish flick, a smartphone materialized in the hero's hand, \"I'll post about it on Reddit!\"\n\nThere was a *boop* as he submitted the Red Skull's plan to /r/news.\n\n\"...That's it?'\n\n\"Yeah, why?\"\n\n\"Aren't you gonna do, like, something else?\"\n\nThe Redditor thought for a moment.\n\n\"Aha!\" he raised a finger in triumphant realization, \"I'll cross post it to /r/worldnews!\"\n\n\"No, like.... There's a nuke... And it'll kill us all.... I don't think posting about it on Reddit will help...\"\n\n\"Fear not,\" the Redditor patted the President's head rather patronizingly, \"There's a petition on change.org. Once it has 10,000 signatures, the White House will have to address it.\"\n\n\"I am the White House. I'm addressing it right now. By calling you here.\"\n\n\"Oh hey!\" The Redditor wagged the phone in the POTUS's face, \"Some guys on Reddit caught the bad guy!\"\n\n\"That's Mettle. He's a superhero. He just looks like the Red Skull.\"\n\n\"Oh,\" The Redditor rubbed his antenna, \"Uh, look, it's a cat with a watermelon on its hea-\"\n\nAnd they all died a fiery death as the 20 megaton nuke burnt them and everything around them into a crisp."
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You may use any of the first five (5) suggested words. You may add punctuation at any time; it does not have to be suggested.
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[WP] On mobile, create a narrative using ONLY suggested words.
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"I am going to be in the future of the intended recipient. He said he would be happy to help me with any other information. The only thing I can do to help you out with a friend of mine, is a great weekend. The information contained in this message is strictly forbidden.",
"I'm not sure how to make it. The only thing is that I don't think you can get to the point where you are so cute, that the government has been in a statement. We need to go back in time to go back in the morning to the point where you are so cute. I don't know how and why they call you back, but it was not immediately available. The only way to go back to sleep and wake up at the same time is the best way to go back to sleep and wake up at the same time. The new version is better than the other side of the year. ",
"Oh dear god here goes nothing.\n\n***\n\nI can tan. Is trying to be a cop dude if I can tan. They act like drop half my own problems. If I can talk to go out. The guts to be a girl to go do stupid things they act like drop half my own ducking. Could they act like drop guy who's really nerdy? Good time but it's okay dude if my Xbox friends is a girl. Ladies calm down. You guys are both right. Then that makes them needy little unnecessary. Fuck up on halo. They'd do stupid things they may not have been proven to be a cop dude if I can tan. ",
"Ok thanks for the shower and then the next few days, but it was over in the academy as was most security personnel and the dragon. The blank page and the drill sergeant went apeshit. He had been in the air and I have work tomorrow, Wednesday and Thursday night. I'm not 100 % on that one. Every day, I looked up at the shop, and Tasha Yar, and the entire space battle. The lines of code that you have to do homework, and the rest of our lives, but there was a cowardly thief. Obviously I don't really care. \n",
"The battle cruiser appeared just after the first time in the UK. I have something special planned, but who knows what the world was able to make. I have something special planned. I think people are starting to miss real invasions and you don't have to be honest. I'm sure you get the drift. I’m afraid not. You will need to be locked in the silence of the gods. I have something special planned. It's refreshing to see a smile instead of a pout. :) what are you winking at? ;) the ball rolling with the target audience. The residents were the first to know about the latest version of the French government. The horsemen stood in the future with you. \n\nEnd"
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[WP] "There should have been a bang."
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"The sergeants stomach felt as though he had swallowed a tiny black hole and his entire body was collapsing in upon itself. He felt an intense heat flush his skin while his body let loose every ounce of sweat it could muster. He did his best to claw at the mirror in the testing room, behind which he knew quiet men were taking quiet notes, but couldn't gather the strength to let his arms unfold from his belly even for a second. His vision flashed quickly between scenes from his childhood and an inky black void, eventually settling on a scene of pure darkness with a pin prick of white in the middle. The sarge felt this pin prick grow and grow all around him until he felt completely bathed in a beautiful golden light, and just when he was utterly prepared to surrender to the majesty of the maker, he was snapped back to gruesome reality and he felt the pressure release. His anus parted and it felt as though Astraeus himself had been loosed from his bowels. What must have been a gale force immediately knocked him to his knees he was planted face down on the cold ceramic tiles. As the force upon his face and hands increased, he could hear every joint and nail in the facility strain against the power of the gulf stream that was now flowing through him directly at the ceiling. In the utter chaos that surrounded him, the sarge quickly began to pray to the sweet lord in a last ditch effort at salvation. As he struggled with the seventh line of the lords prayer, the maelstrom ended just as quickly as it had begun.. As the sergeant rolled over and faded into unconsciousness, the last thing he heard from behind that glass was \"Huh.....there should have been a bang\".",
"Silence is the cruelest sound I'll never hear.\n\nYou sat there, earnest, dripping poison in my ear - \n\nSweet nothings. \n\nNothings.\n\nNothing at all.\n\nIn the hollow left by empty words,\n\nthere should have been a bang.\n\nSome shocking sound, a thunderclap\n\nTo tell me your facade was cracked and \n\nyour cowardice was spilling out.\n\nBut there was no noise at all,\n\nSilence, when\n\nThere should have been a bang.\n\n\n"
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[WP] TIL that Earth used to have a moon.
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"Yo yo yo like watup u no earth gotta moon? Well like, it used to have a moon. Just read it on Wikipedia.com. Guess it was like pretty big rock that used to go around earth. Stoop used to think it was chee hahaha. But that was in the old day, lotta stoop back then. Now we all get at it on tha Wikipedia.com u no? Love reading that shish, was just clicking random article and it came up dat earth gotta moon. Well used to have one I guess. Guess it got blown up in 2566 by a rogue space demon hahaha. Earth don't need moon anyways, we learn how to get by without....",
"The look of horror on my face must've been validation for Zeke because I could the smile slowly starting form on his beard covered face. \"See Mark, I told you that the Earth USED to have a moon orbiting it! Never doubt me again!\" He said through his smile. \n\n\"This doesn't make any sense, Zeke! How was this possible? Where did it go?\" I asked him in a nervous tone. \n\n\"Keep reading, it is all explained.\" Zeke replied, nodding towards the cell phone in my hands. \n\nAs I continue to read, I read that the race to space in the 50s and 60s escalated once Sputnik made it into the Earth's orbit, prompting the US to aim a little higher in order to one up the Russians. We fortunately beat them to the Moon in 1969. \"I know this crap already, Zeke.\" I said to him. \"You're almost there, keep going.\" Zeke goads on. I let out an annoying sigh and kept reading. Apparently the mission wasn't just to be the first human beings on our moon. According to this page, Armstrong, Aldrin, and the rest of the astronauts that were on the Apollo 11 mission were told to prevent anyone else from touching down on the moon's surface. So they built a rocket onto the surface that had just enough power to send the moon out of Earth's orbit. It also says that the mission was a resounding success because they were able to put together a second moon that gave all the benefits of the previous moon, but be property of the United States and have a shit ton of weapons designed to deter anyone else wanting to visit the surface of the moon. This whole time, people thought the moon landing was fake schedule when it was actually a secondary mission. The prime directive was to arm the moon from foreign nations. At this point, sweat is dripping down my eyebrows. \n\n\"If we USED to have a moon,\" I shouted at Zeke, \"WHAT THE FUCK IS THE MOON DOING THERE?\" \n\n\"That's no moon, that's a space station!\" Zeke responds triumphantly.\n\n\"Wait, this page was edited by *D33ZNutZ* ten hours ago, and there's no notes or references to refer to.\" I said as I kept scrolling. The username looked familiar, like it was username I knew about. Finally, it clicked in my head. This was Zeke's PSNID. Finally, I understood what was going on. \n\n\"Did you seriously go to all the trouble of getting administrator permissions to Wikipedia and then edit the profile on the Earth to say that it used to have a moon in order to make a Star Wars reference?\" I asked Zeke with a frustrated tone. \n\n\"No, why would you think that?\" Zeke said sheepishly. \"I wouldn't go that far for shits and giggles.\" \n\n\"Bullshit!\" I shouted at Zeke, \"The username matches all of your online usernames!\" \n\n\"Ok fine, you caught me.\" Zeke said as he threw his hands up, \"but it was totally worth that look on your face!\"\n\n\"You're a dumbass, Zeke\"",
"I remember the day it happened. I remember where I was. I was in a cab, riding from St Louis to Denver. I was on the phone with Laura. You remember, Grandma King? She was always Laura to me. Anyways, Prometheus was preparing for a slip jump to Io. Just a commuter jet. Yes, Denver. It was a city. Something like eight hundred miles. Yes just a skip. Do you want me to tell the story or are you going to keep focusing on little things? Where was I? Io. So, bunch of business class folks on Prometheus, all drinking their glasses of champagne. Nothing abnormal. I always looked out the window to watch, it was always quite neat. Seeing that tear in space open, that majestic creature flying through, they all treated it like it was nothing. We could go halfway across the solar system in a matter of seconds, we could reach Pluto in a few hours. This was unthinkable, you know. I learned in school they used to ride horses across the land, take hours to go from city to city. Anyway, where was I? Prometheus, they said, had a... what did they call it... premature slip event. Always sounded dirty to me. Usually premature slips were marked by a ship being cut in two, bulkheads dropping, a few rich people would die, a national catastrophe, mourning, president talks. Not this time. Slip gate opens, but on Luna's dark side. Prometheus isn't pulled through. Nobody died this time. At least, not immediately. It was merely a second, but you could see the black gate opened behind the moon, could see it silhouetted there. Then gone. No more moon. Took less than an hour for earthquakes to hit. LA... that was another city. Was. Yes, that means gone. Tidals stopped, planet started to wobble. Evacuations started. Fifteen thousand ships, and today we take traveling by slip for granted again. Europa to Saturn, no time at all. Humanity moves so fast, some day it might just slip right out.",
"\"I can remember it vividly.\n\n“We were on the beach; Rachel and I. Listening to the waves swirl and crash onto the sand, looking up at the stars. It was so peaceful and beautiful.\n\n“Then it happened.\n\n“The sky lit up in a flash, from darkness to white. It was so bright and intense - I was blinded. It was a long time, maybe five minutes, before I could uncover my eyes. Even then it took time for my eyes to adjust.\n\n“The sky was full of burning stars. It was as though a firework exploded in the sky and kept burning and burning. Yet there was no sound, no boom, no thunder.”\n\nColin pressed the pause button. He sat there in the chair, with his eyes fixated on the screen and mouth agape.\n\n“We had a moon,” he muttered, \"a f**king moon.\"",
"\n\nComing to the pacific ocean north of where san Francisco would have been, where the red giants reside. My father and my fathers father walk before me. The ocean still, the night dark.\n\n\"There was once a monolith in the sky\" my father began, with a grim look on his face. \" You my son know nothing of this. Today marks the day of an event that marked the end of mans 'dark ages'.\" With a sigh of grievous tone, and a look to the sky. \"To day 67 years ago when i was just older than you, the wars had came to a climax. Killing many of men. Just as the white man had done for the entirety of wester culture. On the last day of the mushroom clouds, was the last day of the moon of our earth.\"\n\n\"What happened to it\" i ask.\n\n\"In that time, we had weapons of mass destruction, war heads they called them. Well, one of the warheads guidance system was disrupted by an emp wave sending it directly into our once beloved moon. To many the moon was described as the true godess. To many more they didnt realize the true significance of her. Too even more it still meant nothing. Then people went insane. Bloodlust massacres pure insanity, yet some were not affected. Thats why we stand here today. The beleivers of the godess were left alone when her magical blood spilt on to earth.\" \n\n\"TIL the earth once had a moon.\"",
"No one was supposed to be here, in the place of the ancients. Of course, he couldn’t help it. The amazingly tall structures that instead of bone and leather were crafted of stone and trees. All it took to draw him here was the rumble of another of the stone goliaths shaking to the ground, opening another line through the skyline. \n\nThe paths were cracked and shattered. Hundreds of years of disrepair letting shoots of green push through the cracks. The exact age of the city was unknown, of course. However. the thicket of goliaths never left the stories of his people. They had always been there. \n\nGreat stone arches formed the entrances into the behemoths. Countless dark, empty holes decorated their exterior, but no one had ever come up with a good theory for their purpose. He pushed into the dark opening drawing a torch from his leather pack and lighting it with a fire starter. Stone symbols were somehow raised off the face of the earth.\n\nHe couldn’t hope to understand. He pressed on. The very next room was massive. His entire tribe of thirty people could easily have lived with in the cavernous room. Wires dangled from the ceiling, but whatever purpose they had served remained to be seen. Littering the ground were enormous balls apparently made of stone were dyed red, blue, orange, purple, and even green. Each was like a rainbow of color, but one caught his eye. It was green, blue, and had white wisps captured circling about. The artmen ship was beyond anything he had ever seen. \n\nThe he saw it. He realized. The ceiling. As he held his torch up. The barest rays of light reached upwards, but he could see it. The stars. They were in the exact place he would expect them to be in the night sky, but they were simply a decoration high up on the ceiling. He recognized the different constellations big sister Gamora and little Ioa. Arkham the club bearer. They were exact. \n\nThe ancients had seen the same night sky. Then why were these great orbs in the room? He barreled outside. Rushing out of the cavernous room and storming into the glaringly bright light of the sun. He looked at the rolling green fields surrounding the thicket of stone. He strained his ears to hear the great oceans lapping the shores for he knew they would be blue. The white wispy clouds floating gracefully overhead. \n\nThe orb. The orb with the greens and blues. With the white wispy trails frozen in captured frame. It was earth. The ancients had known the world from beyond. They had seen the earth, and other worlds, from the outside. They had known the universe. \n\nGasping for breath the man pushed himself back into the building. He had to see it again. He had to see the great beyond as the ancients must have known it. They must have been creatures from the heavens. If not angels themselves then agents at the least. \n\nThe green blue orb sat where he had left it unharmed. Nothing had changed since he left. Yet, the room seemed to radiate with power previously unappreciated. The earth was different from the other orbs. It was the only one with such an odd array of color. Most of the orbs were solid blue or a red earthy color. The enormous ones were orange and red as if they burned forever. They must be hell.\n\nThere was one thing that he did notice. The earth was not alone. Attached by a sturdy rope, of an unearthly material that shined when it caught the flickering of his torch, was a small grey orb pocket mark with craters. A twin. Earth had, at least when the ancients walked the world, a dancing partner in the great universe. The earth had used to have a moon.\n\nHe stared around the echoing room. The wealth of potential knowledge horrifying and enrapturing. He fled as the shamans knew he would. He was broken by the lies he lived as the shamans knew he would be. How could the shamans know, but not act on it? How could they live their lives banning such power?\nHis stomach growled. His aching hunger returning as his curiosity waned. Perhaps there was time for such things if we wanted to survive. The ancients had left and we were all that was left. We needed to live more than we needed to discover.",
"**TIL that Earth used to have a moon**\n\n-Uh, duh. Where did you think cheese came from? [+1146]\n\n--...cows? [+243]\n\n---TIL Earth used to have cows. [Gilded] [+2214]\n\n---That's horrible! hunting and killing poor innocent cows just for their cheese :( [+229]\n\n----Yeah it was a real cowtastrophe [+103]\n\n-----ugh, what a cheesy joke. [+93]\n\n------pun thread? moooove along [+85]\n\n------- they're really milking this one for everything it has [+153]\n\n-------- I'll beef-irst to say pun threads are annoying [+24]\n\n--------- whenever this sub sees a pun thread everyone just goes into that herd mentality [+55]\n\n----They didn't even hunt them, they were bred in captivity just to be slaughtered for cheese and pork.[+184]\n\n-----Holy shit TIL ancient humans were all crazy barbarian heathens. [+95]\n\n-----it was called beef I think. Pork was from dogs, or babies. [+18]\n\n-----Would've liked to try cow cheese, supposedly it was better than moon cheese. [-19]\n\n------not cool dude[+8]\n\n--wait but if we destroyed it why is there still cheese? [+4]\n\n---it's not real cheese any more. look on the package, it'll say \"synthetic food product\" or something. they just market it so you think it's cheese. They invented it after the moon was destroyed so we could still use recipes with cheese in them. [+13]\n\n----pretty sure they had fake cheese before the moon blew up [-8]\n\n-----that's ridiculous, why would anyone eat fake cheese when they had the real thing? [+14]\n\n-Nice source, jackass. What's next, a Galactic Enquirer article about how the High Council are all lizards? Take your conspiracy bullshit off to its own sub. [+438]\n\n--Uh, he's not wrong dude. You think the Lunarians just came up with all that shit themselves? [+24]\n\n---I mean... yeah? [+13]\n\n--lol prisonplanet is more reliable then most of the msm trash you see cited as sources around here most of the time. You really think CNNBC, or any Viacomcast-owned networks are any better? wake up sheeple\n\n---prisonplanet? It's not even a real planet, just a dwarf. like Ceres or Pluto\n\n----that's it dude, let's fight irl\n\n-By Skwalker, imagine looking up into the sky and seeing some huge fucking thing just hanging there. Really glad it got destroyed (if it ever even existed). [+7]\n\n--hey fuk u man i had ancestors who lived on the moon [-25]\n\n---lol how did they get there a magic carpet? [+35]\n\n----in a spaceship jackass [-10]\n\n----lol right, powered by pixie dust? everyone knows there's no fuel energy dense enough to escape Earth's orbit. That's why we can go from Mars to Earth but not the other way.[+37]\n\n-----uh no they had better fuels back then jackass but they used them all up [-4]\n\n-----They could've used a space elevator? [+3]\n\n------Shit, *we* can't even build space elevators, no way a bunch of cavemen could. We should have the right nanocarbon weaves to do it in ten years or so, though. Then it's just a matter of money. A better option back then would have been Helium-3 fusion. [+24]\n\n-Yep, actually almost every planet in the solar system used to have a moon! Some even had two or more! [-19]\n\n--LOL get out of here with that shit. None of the gas giants could never have a moon, they're too big. Any stable orbit would be on the wrong side of the Roche limit. [+126]\n\n---Then how do planets orbit the Sun? [-3]\n\n----Planets aren't moons dumbass. [+9]\n\n--Haha let's not get carried away now [+3]\n\n--that's impossible dumbass if something had two moons they would mess with each other's gravity and fall down on each other. [+4]",
"Ancient Celestial Bodies, Vol. 238, No. 189274\n\nNew Archaeological Evidence Supporting the Existence of Earth's Natural Satellite, the “Moon”\n\nScientists studying the Solar System, home of the original Planet of the Apes (term coined by historical archaeologist Timotharicus Michana), have discovered new information regarding the existence of an ancient planetary entity popularly know today as *Lunarisse*. \n\nFor the past several decades, archaeologists have been piecing together the Earth's history after an electromagnetic pulse - caused by a solar flare - destroyed most of the records stored there. No one had bothered to make copies of the records due to a major lack of interest in the Earth's history following the infamous “Earthman” mass murder-suicides. The Earthmans believed that only through the extermination of the human race would the universe be restored to energetic equilibrium. Each of the 4 billion cult members killed their families before committing suicide by self-castration. The cult's leader was Earth-historian Billian Irvinnigan who was reportedly informed by the nihilist literature of the 23rd century CE (also known as the Anathematic Age). \n\nStudies in recent years have revealed that the planet was abandoned following a major catastrophe relating to a permutation in the movement of the oceans. Further digging revealed that the same force acting upon these waters also affected the reproductive cycles of women, though this may have been somewhat influenced by popular myth. \n\nNew technology allowing scientists to ultimately “look back in time” by tracing the past movements of photons, has revealed the existence of a relatively small celestial body that appears to have orbited the Earth long before the existence of man-made satellites. A satellite of this size would have definitely had an influence on the surface water of the planet, it's gravitational pull creating high and low “tides”. \n\nWhile the events leading up to the disappearance of the Moon and ultimate demise of the Earth are still a topic of debate, researchers are optimistic that new photostratinographic methods will reveal the rest of the story. \n\nMGST 32:05, Date 03.225.1675803, Astra Vega Epsilon.",
"*A reading from the Book of the Prophets:*\n\nAnd so it came to pass that in those times the Ancestors of our nation grew wary of the rise of another people across the sea. Whereas the God of Many Stars had led the Ancestors to righteousness and prosperity, so too was the nation across the sea led by a false-god, but he led them to darkness and the pain of hard life. The Ancestors clamored in prayers to the Lord, \"God of Many Stars, who has liberated our cities, who showers our lands with the glory of Your Throne upon the Heavens, we the people of your nation have been your faithful followers since the days of our fathers' Fathers. Yet we grow wary of the rise of our enemies across the sea. They follow a false-god who does slander to Your name and who brings despair to our lands. Hear us, o Lord of the Stars, and of the mountains, and of the seas.\"\n\nThe God of Many Stars, hearing the cries of the Ancestors, looked across the sea and saw that it was true that a false-god had risen, that he did do slander to the Holy Name, and that the people of the Many Stars were in despair. The false-god claimed to the people that he would be lord of the starry skies and would overthrow the Lord and would topple the nation of our Ancestors. To inspire the fear of the people of the world, the red devil stretched his hand into the stars to scrape his claws against the Lord's Domain. The people all around the vast seas and across the wide plains saw his mark in the sky and they were brought to fear the demon and to lose faith in their true God. Seeing all this, the Lord stretched out his holy wings and touched the soul of His prophet, who was called Na'el. To His prophet, the Lord, King of the Heavens, spoke, \"Na'el, have you not been my loyal and steadfast servant all your life? Have you not kept the precepts of the Fathers of the Many Starred Nation and made just sacrifice to your God in all your days?\"\n\n\"I have, my Lord,\" spoke the prophet.\n\n\"Then heed the Word of the God of your Ancestors, for among the Nation I have built, I see the growing fear of the people across the sea and the despair in the hearts of my followers. Let this be no more. I, the Master of the Skies and Oceans, shall give forth a sign to the world that my people, whom I have chosen, shall come to no harm. Therefore, Na'el, I shall raise you on high to the place of My Throne, and you shall stand at the Door of My Kingdom, and the world shall tremble in awe of the might of My starfire.\"\n\nThen the Lord reached down and lifted Na'el up and placed him upon the chariot of the Sun, and Na'el rode the chariot into the Dominion of the Lord. With the God of Stars to guide him, Na'el navigated the Skies to reach the Door of the Kingdom of God, and there he knelt at the Throne of Stars and he wept aloud, \"Though I take but a single step, I have lept great distances for my people.\" And there Na'el did place the Banner of the Ancestors, as God had instructed him to do.\n\nThe Lord, seeing that His prophet had done the Will of God, gave a sign to the world as He had promised to Na'el. In the minds of all peoples of the earth, the God of the Many Stars placed the vision of Na'el stepping upon the snowy white lands wherein lies the Door to the Kingdom of the Lord. The red demon and the people of lands which he held in his clutches saw in their eyes the Banner of Stars before the Lord's Throne, and in seeing it they withered, and in withering they were vanquished.\n\nThen spoke the Lord God to the starry winds, \"Let all people look upon the Moon and remember what the Lord of Many Stars has wrought for the good of his people.\"\n\n*Translator's Notes*: Here we find one of only four places that the Biblia Stella makes reference to a concrete, physical \"moon\", rather than the much contested and more commonly referenced \"Door to the Kingdom ... found among the stars of the heavens.\" While my friend and colleague, James Hartretch, Professor of Ancient Religious Texts at University Dara, is very outspoken in insisting that several fables and myths, including this one, agree strongly upon the presence of a small, natural satellite in orbit of the prehistoric earth, I must dissent. I take the more commonly held opinion that these references to a bright object in the night sky likely reveal the existence of a particularly luminous star which has gone dim in the modern era. For the other reference to the \"moon\" see the Book of Dusk, Chapter 16.\n",
"Astroshwah Copper slouched in her chair on the outer perimeter bridge, slowly turning her spinning chair from polaris to octanis and back. The day had been quiet so far, her respite interrupted only once by a brief flutter of voices when the bi-weekly transmission from *8102 Lin 11* had arrived, 3 years after having been sent. No ship-wide announcement followed, and Copper went back to chair-spinning. There never had been any interesting news between the 60° and 66° degree. Copper pressed a flashing button to reroute the agricultural report from the second inner district through the tertiary communications node, as the secondary node was still off-line - she wondered briefly what was taking the second engineers so long - and then went back to chair-spinning. No new major transmission was planned for this shift. \n\nCopper grabbed a bowl of fried vegetables from the food dispenser and lit up the desk terminal. She tapped a few buttons, and momentarily a face appeared on the terminal.\n\n\"Yurkova\", Copper dead-panned, barely able to suppress a grin. Astromech Yurkova stood hunched under a metal arch, her bronze face covered by a sheen of sweat her blonde hair clung too, drawing subtle lines through her youthful face. Across the bridge of her nose a dark smudge like war paint seemed to underline the safety goggles that crookedly sat on her eyes. \n\n\"Copper\", she answered, pulling her goggles off her face, which left two circular red imprints on her face. \"What is it?\"\n\n\"Lunch time!\", Copper replied and lifted her bowl. \"It's Fry-day!\". \n\n\"Funny. Look, I've a really busy shift, \" Yurkova hedged. \"Maybe -\" \n\n\"You've got to eat, Yuri.\" Copper interrupted. \"Come sit with me.\"\n\nYuri sat down heavily in whatever tube she was working in. \"Alright\", she sighed, and pulled out a tube of concentrate. \"So what's up?\"\n\n\"There's nothing of note between 60 and 66 by 10 degrees at 4 light years\", Copper said after swallowing a piece of fried eggplant. \"And I've got a new theory -\"\n\n\"Did you listen in again? You have to stop doing that, Caroline. You don't have the clearance! If they catch you -\" Yuri interrupted. \n\n\"Relax. I didn't listen in. I'm *deducing* that nothing of note happened because there was no announcement. So, my theory is that we *are* on earth. I think that we used to live on the surface, but then people turned into Lee-Bears, with white faces and black noses and red spectacles, and started to eat everything! And so we had to go live on the *inside*, and went to space to get rid of all the bears, and ... -\" \n\n\"What are you talking about?\" Yuri asked, her tube of concentrate hanging loosely from the corner of her mouth. \"Lee-bears? Spectacles? What?\" \n\nCaroline smirked. \"Yes, and I think they must have had long yellow fur. Cute, though -\" \n\nA sudden keening siren interrupted Yuri's retort. Caroline looked at the panel in front of her aghast. \"A transmission? But nothing's scheduled!\"\n\n\"Did you mix things up again?\", Yuri hastily asked. \"No! I'm sure no transmission was scheduled. Hold on, I'll get right back to you.\" \n\nCaroline turned from her terminal, and Yuri saw Caroline's fingers fly over the control panel. She heard the hull of the Yoolang grown as the large antenna arrays ground to a new position, and then the lights in the access tunnel she was in started to flicker. Yuri was pulling in energy from all over the ship. \"It's a faint transmission from 348 and 354,\" Caroline said, almost drowned out by the loud siren. \"41 Daphne 58?\" she asked no one in particular. \"But that isn't scheduled until at least 3320!\" The siren suddenly stopped and was replaced by a pulsating white noise. Caroline spun on her chair, back to her terminal, ripped *something* from one of the access ports, and jammed it into the access port on her panel. \"Shut it!\" she shouted preemptively, just as Yuri made noises of protest. \"Whatever that is, I'm not going to miss it!\".\n\nJust as suddenly as the transmission had come, it stopped, and the comm channel was eerily silent. \n\n\"Well. That was unexpected,\" Caroline opined. \"Wanna be *subversive*, girly?\"\n\n---\n\nProbably won't continue this. It's already too long and that's just the introductory \"chapter\".",
"\"Pa!\"\n\nI turned away from the view to catch a running glimpse of my daughter's bouncing pigtails before her small body collided into my legs.\n\n\"Oof,\" I groaned, trying to regain my balance by holding the handrail. I heard her squealing giggle, and I smiled at the sudden sound. The sounds that erupted from my daughter always made me smile.\n\n\"What ya doing?\" Terra asked. This innocent eight-year-old thing made up of half of my DNA seemed to grow bigger and faster by the minute.\n\n\"I'm just enjoying the view,\" I replied. I turned back to the blue ocean in front of me. Its gentle tides slapped the terrace's foundation. The only other sounds were light chatter and the clatter of steps on the terrace.\n\n\"I learned about something called the moon today, Pa,\" Terra said. She extended her arms up to reach the tall handrail, and she rested her forehead between the vertical metal bars.\n\n\"Oh, did you now?\" I asked, surprised that the ED-System would talk about something like the moon.\n\nShe tilted her small head at me, her soft brown eyes looking up, and asked, \"Was there really a moon, Pa?\"\n\nI nodded my head and sighed. I rested my elbows against the handrail, leaning towards the ocean. \"My grandpa - your great-grandpa - used to talk about the moon.\" I pointed up at the sky, arching my neck back to see if I can even see a fragment of it in the vast blue above. There wasn't anything but sky-blue.\n\n\"What did it do?\" she asked. \"What happened to it?\"\n\nI cocked an eyebrow, looking down at her. \"Didn't they teach you all of that in school today?\"\n\n\"Nope,\" she replied, her forehead between the metal bars. She was staring at the ocean now. The ED-System was usually very good about these things, but maybe the instructor only covered the simple fact that the Earth once had a moon and not much else.\n\n\"Grandpa used to describe the sight of it at night to me,\" I said. I crouched down and sat down on the terrace next to Terra. She followed suit and leaned against my left shoulder. Her right pigtail settled against my neck.\n\n\"He said that when the moon was full, it was a big, round disk in the sky at night. You couldn't miss it, he used to tell me,\" I continued, pointing up at the sky again. My daughter's eyes followed the trajectory of my pointed finger. \"Grandpa said it was the brightest thing in the dark sky.\"\n\n\"What happened to the moon?\" Terra asked, her tone almost a whisper as though we were speaking about a taboo. I chuckled inwardly.\n\n\"I don't know,\" I shrugged. \"Grandpa never told me the details. He just said that one day, it disappeared from the sky like it was never there in the first place.\" I dug deep into my memories about my grandfather's rambling talks, and I remembered one interesting thing. \"He also told me that most people didn't notice or care at the time. He said that most of us stopped looking at the sky at night when we got too preoccupied with our lives. He said that people stopped looking up at all.\"\n\nTerra didn't speak as she gazed at the sky. Her eyes glided across the sky in search of the lost moon. Then I pointed to the ocean and said, \"He also said that the ocean changed. There used to be really big waves.\" I gestured with my right hand, increasing the imaginary height of the ocean for Terra to see.\n\n\"I guess we didn't need the moon,\" Terra concluded on her own. \"We're still here and we're okay.\"\n\nMy daughter was always intelligent, I knew. She was probably right. The human race was still living on Earth without the moon. Maybe the moon wasn't really important, I thought to myself. Terra stood up and patted down her pants. I got up from the terrace floor and stretched my legs and arms with a yawn.\n\n\"Ma's ready to pick us up,\" Terra said. She waved back at my wife, Terra's mother, and she started walking in the direction of her mother's car. I looked up at the blue sky, imagining how the a full moon would have looked in the darkness of night. When did people stop looking at the sky, I wondered.\n\nI chuckled lowly, shaking my head, and asked the same question to myself. It had been a long time since I bothered looking up at night, beyond Earth's limits. If the moon ever came back by some miracle, I made a promise on that terrace that I would look at the moon every single night for the remainder of my life. ",
"*Sorry for switching gears from the title prompt, but this is what I came up with*\n\nThe old woman held the flap open and waved me inside. \"Ketch in, younger,\" she said in a dusty whisper. \nShe shuffled around in the hut for a moment before settling down on a pile of furs and indicating that I \nshould do the same. I complied. \n\n\"So,\" she began, but was cut off by a wracking cough. It was a full minute before she could continue. \"So,\" \nshe continued, \"it's learnin' time. You's to be the next Rembrer. Aced your pop quiz entire! A great y'honor!\"\n\nShe leaned forward. \"You's enthused?\"\n\nI murmured a confirmation, and lowered my head, still awed to be in the Rememberer's hut. I stole a glance around what was the\nbiggest hut in the village and was surprised that it felt so cramped. Shelves in our village were rare, but here there was barely\nroom for a sleeping pallet and pantry; the rest of the space was filled with wooden shelves containing neatly stacked pieces of \nleather of varying thickness color and texture. There were strange markings along the edge of the leather. \n\n\"Primo.\" She must have noticed my glance because she rose painfully, made her way to one of the shelves and pulled off one of the\nstrange pieces of leather. To my amazement she peeled it apart easily, and I discovered that there were many pieces of a thin \nsubstance covered in more strange markings. She held it up. \n\n\"Peep this. You's savvy?\" \n\nI shook my head. I had no idea what it was. \n\nWhen she spoke next, her voice was different and her words were strange. I found it diffucult, but not impossible, to piece together\nthe meanings of her words. \n\n\"It's known as a book,\" she said. \"I have quite a collection, do I not?\" She waved her hand toward her shelves. After the moment \nit took me to understand her meaning, I nodded. \n\n\"Amazeballs!\" I couldn't hide the awe on my face. \n\n\"These markings here are called 'writing', and they tell me many different things. This particular book is called a history book. It \ntells the story of our past, specifically the beforetimes.\n\n\"One day, you'll learn to read this writing. For now, I'm going to tell you about something that happened a long time ago.\nMost of the details are written in this book. But for now, an overview.\"\n\nShe settled back down into her furs and set the book aside. \"You know the 'sky bridge'?\"\n\nI nodded. It was hard to miss the sky bridge. A great arc spanning across the southern sky from horizon to horizon. Faintly visible by\nday, a dazzling source of light at night. I was about to repeat the chant when she interrupted me.\n\n\"Of course you do. Hard to miss, isn't it? And the 'eater' and the 'layer'?\"\n\nAgain she kept me from speaking the chant. \"You keep that chant to yourself, heed me?\" I nodded. \"One of the first things you're \ngoing to learn is that the chant is wrong. A bunch of nonsense. There is no giant wumpus eating the sky bridge every night, and there isn't a minx\ngiving birth to a new one right behind it. \n\n\"Don't you interrupt me!\" she exclaimed as I opened my mouth to correct her. \"I'm telling you truth here, not that silly superstition the \nshaman teaches you. And don't ask me what a shaman is! I'm getting agitated all over again! Let's just say that you and the new shaman \nare not going to be getting along very well. Fetch me that box.\"\n\nThe shift caught me off guard and I looked up to where she was pointing. I obeyed, handing her a square wooden box about half a meter \non each side. \n\n\"The sky bridge is more properly known as a 'planetary ring', and that dark spot that goes across the sky bridge is a shadow. I know they told\nyou the world was flat, like the top of this box, but that's wrong as well.\" She opened the box. \"The world, more properly, looks like this.\"\n\nShe pulled out a flat ring of wood with a small sphere in the center, attached to the ring by a series of leather straps. She held it aloft and \ntouched the sphere.\n\n\"This is a model, a representation of our world.\" She ran her fingers along the disk ringing the sphere. \"This is what you once called but \nwill no longer call the 'sky bridge'. And this,\" she tapped a shiny dot on the sphere about halfway between the ring and the top of the \nsphere, \"is, roughly, where we live on the world.\"\n\nThe skepticism must have been plain on my face, because she chuckled and said \"You don't believe me, do you?\". I shook my head. \"Good. That's\nthe real reason you were chosen to be a Rememberer, by the way. If you had simply believed what I told you, you wouldn't even be here. You are \na skeptic, and that's the most important part of being a Rememberer.\"\n\nShe turned the contraption over, revealing another shiny dot, which she tapped. \"Do you see this here? If you put your eye to it, you will \nsee through the sphere and out this other end here, seeing, in effect, what you would see looking up from our village. Would you like to try?\nCome over here, then.\" She stood and ushered me to the center of the room, handing me the ringed ball. Then she began dimming lanterns \nuntil there was only one left lit, which she brightened and took off its hook. \n\n\"Kneel here, and hold the model like this. When I tell you to, look straight up as you look into the hole.\" I knelt, and she moved \naround behind me. She raised the lantern. \"Ok, now.\"\n\nI looked and lo! it *was* like looking up into the sky. There were small shapes cut into the other side of the sphere that I guessed \nrepresented the huts of our village, and there, arcing across my vision, was a reasonable facsimile of the sky bridge. Then she began \nmoving behind me, and I could see the shadow of the sphere moving along the sky bridge in much the same way the eater and layer did. \n\nShe smiled at the look on my face as I handed the ringed sphere back to her. \"Think I might have a point, do you? Good. Now, we can begin.\"\n\nShe put the contraption back into the box and pulled out another, similar contraption. A small wooden sphere, but instead of being surrounded\nby a ring, a thin metal rod jutted out of the surface of the sphere. Attached to other the end of the rod was another much smaller wooden sphere. \nShe handed it to me and sat back down on her pallet. \n\n\"What I showed you before is what our world is like today. But it was not always this way. Long, long ago, instead of a ring around our world\n-- a 'sky bridge' -- we had a single large object just hanging around in the sky, just like that model. Feel free to look through it, but \nforgive my old bones for not adjsting the shadows for you.\" She coughed again, gently this time. \n\n\"We called it the Moon. Like the ring does today, it provided a light at night, and like the ring does today, it filled us with wonder, \nsparked our imagination. I've even read that there were legends about a 'man' in the moon, a superstition similar to the eater and layer\nwe attribute to the sky bridge today. It was so large it affected the waters of the sea, creating something they called the \"tide\", where the \nlevel of the water would rise and fall each night, just from the influence of the moon.\"\"\n\nShe sighed. \"I wish I could have seen it with my own eyes. What a wonder it would have been! There are drawings in my books, but I don't\nthink they could possibly do it justice from all I have read about it.\" \n\n\"What... happened to it?\" I asked and I was rewarded when a pleased expression came over her face. \n\n\"Curious, are you? Good. Another reason you were chosen.\" She leaned forwared. \"Our ancestors destroyed it.\"\n\n\"Destroyed it?\"\n\n\"Yes, destroyed it.\" She leaned forward. \"Long ago, our ancestors created many marvelous\nand wonderful things. You will read about them, in time. Those that came before could communicate instantly across millions of kilometers. They had\ndrawings that could move, and talk, and entertain.\" Her eyes twinkled. \"They even built great machines that could fly like a bird in the sky. And they \nfigured out a way to fly all the way to the Moon.\"\n\n\"Our ancestors were also great warriors. They built greater and more destructive machines, some capable of destroying entire villages, whole cities,\nmillions of people in an instant. And it was their warlike ways that lead to their downfall. Their wars required resources, and the resources they needed\nwere finite. Eventually they couldn't find what they needed here, and turned to the Moon for their materials. Tribes claimed an area and mined it, another \ntribe took it from them by force. And they squabbled and bickered until eventually they unleashed their destrutive machines and destroyed the Moon, shattering\nit into billions of tiny pieces. \n\n\"Eventually, over the course of many years, those pieces spread out around the world, forming the ring, the sky bridge as you see it today. \n\n\"But before that happened, many of those pieces found their way here, and the rain of fire began. The debris rained down in fire, destroying crops, leveling cities. \nNothing was left untouched. Billions died. \n\n\"But some survived and, well... here we are.\"\n\nShe leaned back again. \n\n\"Thus ends your first lesson. Once, long ago, the Moon existed, and the sky bridge did not. But we in our greed destroyed it, and in so doing, destroyed ourselves.\"",
"Kyre gestured and changed pages.\n\n\"Hey Avok, did you know earth used to have a moon?\"\n\nAvok looked around. \"What? That doesn't make sense, where did it go?\"\n\nAvok leaned over and looked at the page.\n\n\"Are you sure it means this earth?\"\n\nKyre looked again.\n\n\"Oh no, sorry, apparently that was Earth 1. Wow, Earth 2 had four moons. Must've had some crazy seasons\".\n\nAvok looked at Kyre. \n\n\"Do you ever think before you say things?...\"",
"\"Thirty years ago on this date, September 13th, 1999, the Moon went away.\" She paused, wiping a tear from her eye. \"A then unknown electromagnetic phenomenon caused the Moon to accelerate and breakaway from Earth. The three hundred and eleven souls on Moonbase Alpha survived the initial event of breakaway, but we have no idea of their current status or wherabouts at this time.\"\n\nThe blonde-haired woman took a deep breath and looked straight into the camera, \"Today, the World Space Commission has given me the pleasure to announce that we are launching a new spacecraft. *Luna Voyager* will complete construction later this month and its first mission will be to search for our people. With the new advanced Queller Drive, we believe this mission to be our best chance of finding out what happened to Moonbase Alpha, its crew and our Moon. I just hope to find my big brother. Thank you.\"\n\n*~ World Space Commission Press release with Captain Samantha Carter, newly named commanding officer of* Luna Voyager. September 13th, 2029.",
"**Luna** is the name of Earth's moon. It was a celestial object which appeared at night and shifted through a 28-day Cycle of phases from which humans developed the Lunar Month which is used in such religions as Judaism and Islam, and is also the origin of the English word 'Lunatic.' It's gravitational pull also affected tidal levels, thereby causing a shift in high and low tides.\n\nDuring the late 22nd Century, the Chinese government attempted to harvest the moon for precious metals to the strong discouragement of the United Nations, even attempting to take a large chunk of Luna into their territory on Earth. Not only did it cause Luna to break into pieces which now forms Earth's debris ring but also robbed it of the first colony set up by NASA in 2025. Also, the gravitational engine used by the Chinese failed due to the size of the Lunar Piece falling to Earth.\n\nThe devastation to the planet was horrific, with most of the planet being covered in dust clouds for 20 years. The countries of China, Japan, Korea Taiwan were completely destroyed, thereby single-handedly halfing the human population.\n\nAs a direct result of this devastation the Citadel Council, which were unknown to humanity at the time, intervened to help humanity save their planet's ecosystem from complete devastation. While it was only proposed by the asari at the time, the devastation caused Luna's celestial cracking gone wrong has led to a proposed project to mine a planet of resources on such a scale was made illegal on punishment of death.",
"\"So this is it?\" Chandra asked, gazing in mild distaste at the dust that dominated the landscape.\n\n\"Yep,\" Morning Dew nodded as she leaned against her atomizing rifle.\n\n\"Hard to believe this oversized dustbunny used to be our stomping grounds.\"\n\nShe said nothing as she continued to look around.\n\n\"Where are we?\" Chandra finally asked his bodyguard.\n\n\"This place used to be known as the River Lena in a region called Siberia. There was a city called Yakutsk several kilometers North.\"\n\n\"What's 'North' again?\" \n\n\"North, West, South, East,\" she rattled off, pointing the gun in each corresponding direction. \"At least according to Old Earth directions.\"\n\n\"Yeah, I don't know how our ancestors were able to tell anything apart in this constantly spinning mess. Let's see the comparison maps again.\"\n\n\"Your wish is my command,\" she responded as they pulled out the maps.\n\nChandra studied the 3-D holo-image of Old Earth.\n\nHis peers were always going on about the beauty this planet used to have, but Chandra could not see it, even when looking at Old Earth. Some greens, browns, and whites surrounded by a lot of blue. Lovely.\n\nChandra then looked at the holo-image of Present Earth. Ironically, he liked the image of the giant grey dustball better. At least it looked perfect.\n\n\"Even back in its prime, I bet this place was lame.\"\n\nMorning Dew smirked. \"You think so, kiddo?\"\n\n\"Jungles and forests, seas and mountains, this place isn't so special. There are lots of planets like this one.\"\n\n\"I suppose,\" she shrugged. \"But nothing is quite like home.\"\n\nChandra rolled his eyes. \"How can you even say that about some dirtball you've only visited a few times?\"\n\n\"True, but... I don't know. I feel a kinship with this place. It was on this planet that we evolved from plants to fish to frogs to lizards to rats to monkeys to, well, us. It's here,\" Morning Dew made a sweeping motion with her arms, \"that we first learned how to manipulate the world to fit us, instead of being ruled by it. And it is here where we made our first steps to space travel by reaching the moon.\"\n\n\"Which one? The one by Venus, or the one by Mars?\"\n\n\"The one that orbited this one.\"\n\nChandra frowned as he looked up into the night sky. Innumerable stars twinkled, and he could even see the bright light of the planet Venus, but he saw no moon. The only other thing he could was the occasional asteroid in orbit around the...\n\n\"Morning Dew?\"\n\n\"Yes?\"\n\n\"When we avoided that belt to get here, was that...?\"\n\n\"Old Earth's moon? Yes.\"\n\nChandra then bent down and grabbed a handful of the grey dust. It effortlessly glided through his grip no matter how hard he clenched his fist.\n\n\"What happened to it?\"\n\n\"Hmph,\" she grunted in amusement, \"someone should have paid more attention in his history course.\"\n\n\"Why should I care about history?\" Chandra snapped back. \"How does knowing that we went from plants to animals to humans help us now?\"\n\n\"If it doesn't help us now, then why bother asking about Old Earth's moon?\"\n\n\"Just shut up and tell me or you're going to be looking for another job!\"\n\nMorning Dew only smirked, having plenty more witty remarks to say, but she did as her young boss demanded.\n\n\"Well, it's no secret that Old Earth fell due to greed and shortsightedness, but even with those issues, Earth still should have been able to sustain life and have water.\"\n\n\"The planetary climate crisis? I know about that. Just get to the point.\"\n\n\"Well, those same shortsighted, greedy people were doing their damndest to still remain relevant in the face of changing times. So they turned to the moon to make the profits they could not find here on Earth. Back when it was still around, the moon was full of helium, and the obsolete energy makers decided to finance mining operations to the moon. The results were spectacular and the helium obtained from the moon was a lot more efficient than the stuff found here. Soon enough, every country that could started sending operations to the moon. But the moon was a small, small place, and eventually, nations started having battles on the moon for territory and mines. Some idiots thought it'd be a good idea set off detonations in the competing mines, but they placed their explosives too deep, so the moon the cracked and split, and lots of pieces pelted Old Earth.\n\n\"Without the moon to keep the waters moving, or to even stabilize the rotation of Old Earth, the planet descended into chaos, both natural and man-made. One day, a place would be warm paradise, the next it would be a frozen waste, and afterward it would be a desert. People began fighting for what resources there were until our numbers grew smaller and smaller. But humans aren't meant to fight indefinitely, and the remaining bands got together and built ships to leave.\"\n\n\"So why is all the dust here?\" Chandra asked.\n\nMorning Dew ran her fingers along the atomizing rifle. \"The fighting, the explosions, the meteor impacts, the fluctuating climate, everything. Without stability, nothing more complicated than eukaryotes can survive in this place.\"\n\nChandra looked at her then at the beautiful, star-studded sky. It suddenly felt empty.\n\n\"You know you're named after it, right?\"\n\n\"Huh?\" he said, being pulled out of his reverie. \n\n\"The moon. You're named after the moon.\"\n\n\"Is that so?\" he mumbled, keeping his eyes glued on the heavens.\n\n\"Yes. The captain named you after an old god of the moon.\"\n\n\"Uh huh,\" Chandra answered, clearly not paying attention to what she was saying.\n\n\"I think the god you were named after was said to move the moon across the sky in a chariot pulled by deer or something.\"\n\nHe looked at her with a raised eyebrow before making his way back to their ship. \"One: what's a 'deer?' Two: what's a 'chariot?' And three: people actually used to believe that nonsense?\"\n\nMorning Dew laughed as she followed him. \"I'll show you on the ship.\"\n\n\"Hey, Morning Dew?\"\n\n\"Yes?\"\n\n\"Can we see that city that's 'North' of here.\"\n\n\"Your wish is my command.\"\n\n------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nBTW, the moon *is* full of helium and there *are* people who would like to obtain it. Point out any typos, please.",
"Friendfeed was put in send-only mode. It was only the second time it had happened, the first was when the chairman was assassinated. The Binge displayed a \"step outside\" message on all channels in unmistakable corporate font. UTM coordinated by halting traffic, as patrons stumbled confused from their night-rentals and into the evercrowding streets. The only light was the glow of their devices, most displaying \"Look Up and see the Future\" in the same familiar font as the Binge.\n\nSuddenly the devices, the Ubers, the televisions, the holo lenses all began to tremble in precisely calculated tones. \n\n\"The earth used to have war. Now it has Everpeace, a reality brought to you by Tesla Security. The earth used to have famine, now it has Cornucopia, a state of being from Monsanto Conagra.Earth had lonliness, but Friendfeed kept us close. Earth had displeasure, but The Binge streams joy to us every day. The earth used to have night. The earth used to have a moon. But today, it has two.\"\n\nIn a split second, the last remaining shadows of night were ripped from the face of the planet- never to return until the fall of man. \n\n\n\"SecondSun, a night full of productivity from Pfizer and NasaX. Your first doses of Neverfade will be added automatically in your next hour's Amazon shipment. Listen for the drones, its the sound of a life without the need for sleep. With SecondSun and Neverfade, you'll have more hours to see your family.\"\n\nAn image of a family swept across SecondSun.\n\n\"More hours to build credit.\"\n\nAn image of a woman tapping into a device replaced the image of the family.\n\n\"More hours to just, be.\"\n\nSecondSun displayed an image of an old man sitting beside another old man watching The Binge, which quickly faded to a video of our new chairman. \n\n\"The future we have built is one beyond dreams, and now our clients will never have to leave it even for a moment.\" \n\nMusic built to a crescendo, the bright SecondSun logo remained, maintaining a steady \"Four-O'Clock-Its-About-To-Rain\" hue across the landscape. \n\nIt was trending on Friendfeed for hours. Most were thrilled, but more people posted to the #WatchMeDie column than normal. \n\n ",
"Is non-fiction acceptable? \n\nThe moon will not be a permanent thing in our sky. Each year Luna slowly moves around the earth about 13 times. And in that year the orbit widens by around 4 centimeters. At that rate it will take an incredible amount of time in order for the moon to leave our sphere of influence and become another dwarf planet orbiting Sol, but it will happen. But there's another scenario, a much more interesting *although highly unlikely* scenario. \n\nIf a large asteroid were to strike the moon in the right way, it would adjust the orbit enough to allow it to slowly move towards the planet instead of away. It would become bigger in our skies year by year, still taking an incredibly long time. But as it reaches the point where it starts to take up the majority of the sky, it would hit something called the Roche limit. At this point the tidal forces on the moon would be so intense that it would tear it to shreds. For a while, meteors would be quite a problem and meteor showers would light up the sky often. But at the end, when everything stabilizes, we would be left with a beautiful grayish ring system. \n\nEither way, someday our pale blue dot will be left all alone in orange glow of Sol for the rest of it's days. ",
"Hey Mom,\n\nThank you for talking with Dad and for sending the extra money. I'll be depositing it this afternoon to download those books for second semester like we talked about. These things are way too expensive. Oh, and I may visit Mast General later this week to find something for Dad's birthday.\n\nI'm still loving school. World History is by far my favorite class so far. Did you know that Earth used to have a moon? Can you imagine that? To look up and see the moon floating, yet feel gravity beneath you. It sounds so unreal. I'd love to have been able to see it. Earth I mean.\n\nAnyway, class starts here in a few. I'll talk to you again soon.\n\nLove you,",
"From the Associated Press.May14,2241\nToday the Lunar cheese company has mined the last remaining bits of Lunar Cheese. The last 500 million pounds will be entering earth's atmosphere at 5pm Eastern Time May 16. It's been nearly 100 years sense astronauts from the People's republic of China discovered that the moon is in fact made of cheese. After sampling the cheese it was found to be the most delicious cheese mankind has ever tasted. A fact that the American Apollo missions were able to keep quiet for 150 years. \nThe Lunar Cheese company was started by a joint venture between the government of China and the Koch brothers. The cheeses popularity was so huge that it was being consumed at a rate of 6 millions tons per day worldwide. After it's properties were discovered to extend the life of humans to a now average of 220 years, the mining could not be controlled. Titan (former moon of Jupiter) should be towed into place under the Moon replacement act of 2239. ",
"Once, the people of Earth had a moon. It was white and grey, peppered with craters; prodded by only a few, so few, flags. There were stories written with its great glow and calm control of the mighty seas as inspiration for any number of great things. The people of Earth loved their moon more than any other part of their world: more than the sun which bathed them in warmth and more than the Earth which raised them. The moon was the people's as much as their own skins.\n\nHungry from their love, the people of Earth took fantastic risks to meet their moon. They flew incredible machines to make their journey, and they called it \"a leap for mankind.\" After that leap, the people rested - preparing for something greater - something more. When again mankind lept, they reached out and grabbed. They would not the moon slip from their grasp again! Mankind took hold and pulled itself forward, forward, never to return.\n\nOnce, the people of Earth had a moon, but no longer. Their love was too great, and their grasp too strong. Once, the people of Earth had a moon. Now, the people of the moon have an Earth.",
"I knew I had something interesting from the moment I found the packet. I had been skimming the sixteenth ulterior-stream for one of my clients, looking for a telltale-signature he had provided me. I had found it, of course, ingested it, burned all of it's cache links, swept local-space and finally burned the store itself. \n\nI spent a few hours sweeping Sixteenth for copies, and finding none, dropped back into my local space. The packet was some sort of compressed archive - but nothing I had ever seen before. It wasn't pretty and it didn't look too clean or efficient, but it was esoteric. I knew I had something interesting.\n\nI never open my clients' data. That's part of the reason I get business. But I had to know about the compression algorithm. That's part of the reason I never got laid in high school. These things excite me. \n\nI ran a artefact extract on the packet and pulled out it's architectural transients, backreferencing them against a historical database. I got back pings almost immediately - \n\nThis thing was fucking ancient. Some age-old, decrepit archive format from over 700 years ago. A *.rar.* \n\nThat's when I knew this was something interesting. Worse, according to the backreference, the *.rar* compression algorithm was so ancient - so insecure - that I could read it's contents just by *looking* at it, I discovered. (This was the reason it had been abandoned 700 years ago). This wouldn't actually occur to anybody who didn't *know* that they could do this, of course - unless they had savant-genius powers of observation, which I did not. The information was hiding in plain sight. Poorly.\n\nStill, I chose not to read it. I was a professional. But I decided to professionally give my client a better look. \n\nMylyn was all about discretion. This was ordinary: most of my clients are private cases, criminal cases and lawyers, with the occasional edgy reporter doing some black research or digging for data off the Ulterior stream.\n\nStill, Mylyn wasn't descrete enough to cover his datum wake. We had been conversing on a closed link only hours ago. Lucky for me, there were still trace artefacts of his departure in the link cache.\n\nI followed him back to the perimeter of his firm. He was a private investigator, he had said, and so far this was consistent - a tiny, lightweight brick of ICE defined the edges of his small establishment and concealed it's interior. \n\nThe ICE was soft. It was too inviting. I don't know what had come over me that day - perhaps the academic fervor of a cyber-enthusaist, perhaps the adrenaline and nerve of somebody who thinks they might be on to something big. Whatever it was, it was enough. \n\nI pored through the ICE with relative ease - didn't even need to break out any phages or hit any of it's defense points. It was soft ICE. \n\nMylyn was new. He had worked on three cases, was making shit cash, was single, no family.\n\nAnd that was it. No other data. That's how I knew Mylyn was fake - synthetic, not actually a person. He was pretty damn well designed, a convincing fake. Had I not pierced his ICE, I might never have known. Someone less apt than I could have pierced his ICE and *still* never known. Mylyn was just a contact point, an avatar - a puppet for someone or something else to use to interact with the datasphere. With *me.* And the only writers I knew who were good enough to build such an elaborate fake were from the Directorate. The man. \n\nI got nervous, jacked out of his empty husk of a datastore, rocketed back to the safety of my local space. And nervoursly, stupidly, without thinking about it, I peeled open the *.rar.* \n\nI've never been one for conspiracy theories. They irritate me, they're usually childish and fanatic. They piss me off, honestly. But given the circumstances - this ancient, mythological *.rar,* my synthetic avatar of a client and the fact that he was clearly a Directorate proxy - something about this conspiracy theory grabbed me. And as I started to read through the pages - and pages, and pages - of plaintext, I realized I had something *massive.*\n\nI immediately rang Lara. Lara was the editor in chief of TIL, one of the last privately-owned broadcast systems. The name was based off of some subdivision of an ancient, historical 'website,' I think they had been called. She was quirky like that. But TIL was basically a glamorous blog. Glamorous enough to compete with the Directorate's primary news outlets, though, much to their disdain. She was also my first and only love, even though she didn't know it. We had gone to high school together. I hadn't seen her in 12 years, but I knew she'd open connection. \n\n\"Hello? Mark?\" Her voice vibrated in my skull, scaring the living shit out of me. She was old fashioned like that - opening an actual audio-vocal stream. I smiled in my creche.\n\n\"Lara,\" I said, my voice catching and grating in my larynx: I had not spoken aloud in days. I cleared my throat. \n\n\"Lara, follow me back to my localspace.\" I opened a piggyback port and closed audio. She got on.\n\nBack in the safe perimeter of my local space, I reopened an audio stream. \n\n\"Lara, I have something big.\" I told her about Mylyn, about the Directorate avatar - about the decrepit, 700 year old packet floating in my drive. \"It's about the moon.\"\n\n\"What moon?\" Lara asked.\n\n\"Exactly,\" I said, voice trembling with excitement.\n\n__________________________________\n\nCan continue if desired! ",
"**TIL that the Earth used to have a moon**\n\nwww.nasa.gov dude\n\nWhat do they teach you kids in school today\n\n-- It’s June dude, school let out\n\n-- -- Right\n\n-- Hey now, I just learned about it a few weeks ago to\n\nWhere do you think the myths about werewolves came from? Seriously, a person looks at the MOON and turns into a wolf? \n\n-- They could have taken place on another planet\n\n-- -- Right, and Roman History took place on another planet too? \n\n-- -- -- Source?\n\n-- -- -- Werewolves as we know them now didn’t become a part of history until the Middle Ages, which is after the fall of the Roman Empire. You’re thinking of the Festival of Lupercalia, which was the Festival of Wolves for the Romans.\n\nIt weighed over 734,200,000,000,000,000,000,000 tons, of course we used to have a moon\n\nHave you never wondered where the ring around our planet came from?\n\n-- Holy shit, really?\n\n-- -- Yes, really. The ring comes from the tattered remains of the moon. Look at old photographs and movies. No ring, but a giant glowing sphere in the sky\n\n-- -- -- Yup. Watch a pre-22nd century movie at some point; you can see it in almost every shot of the night sky\n\n-- -- -- Oh, that’s why?\n\nr/shitpost\n\nMaybe if you pay attention to cultural history outside of your own you’d learn a thing or two. Seriously, the entire history of our planet up until 250 years ago is littered with references to a terrestrial body locked in orbit around us. We used to be a binary planetary system. \n\nTIL that people don’t pay attention in kindergarten\n\n-- Seriously, that’s when I learned about the Moon. Hey, I wonder if there are other planets in our solar system too!? /s\n\nDidn’t some guy named Neil Armstead land on it or something back in the 1900’s?\n\n-- Neil Armstrong on Apollo 11, and yes he did. Along with a bunch of other guys over the next few decades. They brought back a lot of rocks for us to study. It really helped with our understanding of solar bodies.\n\n-- -- How long did it take him to get there?\n\n-- -- -- It took about 4 days from launching from Earth to landing on the Moon\n\n-- -- -- -- Four *days!?* Geez, it only takes me 3 hours to get from New York on Earth to New Haven on Mars. That must have sucked. Was their ship big at least?\n\n-- -- -- -- -- No. It only carried 3 people and was quite small\n\nHave you never wondered why our months have around 30 days? That was the lunar cycle\n\n-- Yea, and there are about 12 lunar cycles in a year, which is why we have 12 months\n\n-- -- And those months used to correspond to seasons very specifically, rather than the variation we have now\n\n-- -- -- Whoa, really?\n\n-- -- -- -- If you look up some of the old descriptions for months, the seasons were very predictable and not as chaotic as we have now. The moon helped stabilize our orbit and prevent us from wobbling too much in space. The wobble causes the extreme seasonal changes, and also the duration.\n\n-- -- -- -- -- Whoa, TIL\n\n-------\n\n[r/grenadiere42](http://www.reddit.com/r/grenadiere42)",
"> *Lunatic* is from **Early Modern English** and refers most often to an insane person. Interchangeable with psychopath, nutter, and crackhead.^citation-required Like many Early Modern English words, its origin is **Latin**: *Luna*. The precise definition of *luna* is a source of contention, as *luna* appears to refer to a moonlike **celestial object** in orbit around Earth. \n\n*click*\n\n> *Luna* is the **Latin** root of several **Early Modern English** words, such as lunatic, lunacy, and **Looney Toons**. Often denoting some form of insanity, or at least a break in logic, it is theorized that *luna* originally referred to a **moon** or moon-like object that was still extant in **ancient times**. However, science has yet to discover any evidence of such an object, leading the linguistics community to posit the **Werewolf Theorem**, which states that the moon was simply a universally accepted metaphor for insanity.\n\n*click*\n\n> The Werewolf Theorem is a theory put forward by **Thomas Stancheon**, a professor of **linguistics** at the **University of New New York**. It is a response to the **Moon Problem** and posits that all ancient and Early Modern references to an earth-moon are in fact metaphorical and imply insanity or loss of reality. Professor Stancheon compiled hundreds of Early Modern English phrases (a complete list can be found **here**) and argued that each was a veiled reference to the taboo subject of mental instability.\n\n*click*\n\n> * To the moon and back\n* When the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie\n* The cow jumped over the moon\n* It must be a full moon tonight\n* A man on the moon\n* Aim for the moon\n* Bark at the moon\n* Moonshine (strong liquor)\n* The dark side of the moon\n\n*click* "
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[WP] You are the only person who can stop the next world war. What do you do?
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"The moment was drawing near. John-7, known as the Agent Omega, the last and best of his unit, placed his hand on his chest and felt his heart pumping like a broken engine. Irregular rhythms of lubs and dubs was unusual of John-7. Even when a plutonium bullet pierced right through his ribs, his heart kept a steady pace. It was not the state of his physique that caused this exceptional condition, but the state of his mind. The burden was weighing too heavy on John-7. By the look of his twisted posture and monotonous trembling, an untrained civilian could tell that the man was anxious. But John-7 had a reason. The fate of mankind was hanging loosely right on his hand.\n\nAfter the World War III, the mankind created a new hell on the Earth. No, Hell would be too soft of a word for what became of the Earth. The mixture of nanomachines that heals body infinitely and radiation poisoning that rots flesh eternally tortured all surviving humans who survived the initial blasts. The control centers for nanomachines were in ashes; hence, all humans, unable to kill themselves, screamed in agony until the sound of pains were continued too much that brains registered those sounds insignificant and people felt they were becoming mute. John-7 and his corps were the last of mankind who still had mobility, because they suffered from a disease that made them unable to feel the pain. The corps unearthed the one and only time machine from the mountains of rubble for one goal and the only goal: Prevent the World War III.\n\nBut the mission was not easy. The corps had to defeat the time guardians, who came from galaxies afar to stop the distortion in the flow of time, endure through the tides of cosmos, and play the game with the Lord of Space to pass through the gate to the past. During the process, all but John-7 were erased from existence due to meddling with time-space continuum. But John-7 made it. He was here, in the past, on the Earth, at the exact place the kindling of the war occurs.\n\nIt all began with a bullet, fired by a Neo-Nazi meth junkie, that went through Senator Brown's head. Only John-7 could stop him. But there was a bit of problem that no one in the corp knew how the man responsible for the war would look like. It was merely rumored on the postbellum radio that the killer was a Neo-Nazi meth junkie. With no future gadgets (which were lost in time, literally), there was only one thing John-7 could do.\n\nThe parade began, and the people began to cheer for their newly-elected Senator. Among the people stood a high platform, where Senator Brown stood high and proud. The Senator cleared his throat, and tried to begin his appreciation speech for his avid supporters. But then the Senator saw a man of skins and bones approaching him. Even before he could show a sign of doubt, the strange man jumped onto the platform. The man was John-7.\n\nJohn-7 grabbed his pants by his waist, pulled them straight down, and then bent over to show the dry and thick wrinkles of his anus among the general public which gathered to celebrate the victory of Senator Brown. The security jumped toward the streaker and pressed him down to the ground. The Senator, taken by surprise, made a quick remark about his supporter and this weird intruder, and then made off to his limousine without getting shot. It was done. The world was saved.\n\n ",
"The chatter is clear, another war is brewing. This make no sense at all, for this land just barely survive the previous one. More suffering there will be, means there will be more people on the street, begging just for a scrap of bread. I can not let that happen. More beggar means less food for me. Got to do something, I have to do something. *\n\nIt is time to see what I can get with this handful of coins I have saved for months. Silver coin did not worth much nowadays but I hope I can get at least a good blade. A good blade and a smile, yes, that is all I need to prevent all of this. To prevent less food in my stomach. Food, food, food, food. *\n\nI can not believe it. Butch said my coins only worth a dull knife. So full of himself this smelly blacksmith is. I can not blame him tho, for I am just a beggar. Some people just love to take advantage. Higher price on everything, sucking as much as they can. Everyone need supplies for the war to come. Those poor children. It is just too sad that Butch have to do that sort of thing and dive head first to a wet muddy ground. I guess that is what bottles of rum can do. A high stairs did not help much. Poor Butch. But at least I now can have two good blades, instead of one. And my beloved silver coins is still in my pouch. A good day. Your sacrifice will be remembered, Butch. *\n\nIt cost me one coin to ride a supply cart to the castle. A silver well spent for Abe is a good man and he even shared his food with me. I will remember him as I remember his wife's home cooked meal eventho his cows eyeing me like I am a ghost. Can not think about that now. Four imperial guard is standing there, at the gate. Two on the wall, two on the ground. Four more guards walking back and forth from each of the east and west wall. Probably two more at the back. A watch tower for each section the walls. It seems like there are like three guards in there. Well guarded but such a pity in design. A star shaped walls will prove more effective. Hopely the next king will have that idea. Have to get inside the wall.\n\nIf I want to do this, It should be tonight. The moon is waning and the royalties is having their feast. Sadly, the guards is alerted as ever. All I need is a diversion. Abe agrees to light a candle in the barn and forget about it. Now all I need is time. Back wall, a guard maybe, and the king's bed chamber. Simple plan but it will prove difficult if Lady Luck is not on my side. I hope she is. For tonight could be a start of a new beginning to all people in this land, and beyond. It is just sad that the tyrant king will never see it. The castle barn is on fire, time to see if I still got it. *\n\nTwo loyal guards lost their life tonight. One had a smiley on his throat, the other one got an extra breathing hole at the back of his neck. A clean kill I said to myself. It is just funny to see their body squirm refusing to let the soul from going home. Remind me of beatles young I used to ate for my breakfast. A good breakfast it was. A quick climb from the ground to the king's bed chamber and there he was. With the windows wide open and the patio door seems like inviting people in, I stood there, watching, a man with a young lady, not the queen, a crown on her head, with all the comfort in the world and scented candles lighting the room. I smiled and said to myself that it is good for him to be happy. For it is the last night of his life. \n\nA bloody mess or a fruity flavour, the choice that haunted me while I am there. Decided to be fruity instead. Both of them are drunk and tired from all the love they been having. Beside, a bloody mess could alert the guards outside, can not risk that. A quick drop of apricot seeds powder into his majesty left ear and let the fruity magic happen. Chance are the young lady would have a time of her life when the solaris dawns. Clean and simple. Able to slipped from the back wall, fast and quiet, like pest they used to call me. Thank the lunaris for the blessing this night. *\n\nThe bells rang announcing the death of the king. Everyone in the tavern celebrate like it was the spring. Meeting Abe today for his cut of the golds that I did not promise. Stolen it was from the private chest of the late king. He was happy beyond anything else. Happy that the tyrant king is dead. Happy that he is now has the means to make a better life for his family. I am too, happy. Happy for the decent food that I can afford. The poor young lady will live in the dungeon for the days to come. Before Death claiming her at the head block. Blesses be the lunaris, thank you, all is well. Days journey awaits. For the next king waiting for me. Not a tyrant one but fair. I wonder what will happen to him."
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He could be excited or in disbelief or hate your guts for proposing an atheist front on his Christian God. Either way, you must convince him that he will be taught to high school students for generations to come.
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[WP] You are a time traveler sent back to make sure Issac Newton discovers his three laws, calculus, etc.
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"The tavern was damp and thick with smoke, and the genius at the corner of the bar was well in his cups.\n\n\"'Tis an elegant formula, for which I am sure we have only to thank Nature itself,\" he was saying to a colleague at his right. \"Testosterone over cortisol, times social status squared, equals female-to-male attraction.\"\n\n\"Egads, Isaac! Mysterious hormones? The numerization of social context? Surely the fairer sex is not so easily enchanted...and dare I say, befouled?\"\n\n\"No? Our own sex is wooed with a simply fertility formula, a ratio of waist and hips, and the influence of estrogen in the facial features after puberty.\"\n\n\"And, pray, where have you learned all of this rank tomfoolery?\"\n\nIsaac Newton put down his stein of beer and held up a finger. \"Right here, in my correspondence with Neville Q. Merriweather, the prominent biologist.\" He produced a leather-bound journal of lengthy notes, whereupon his colleague searched through the work himself.\n\n\"Could it be true?\" the colleague wondered aloud. \"Knowledge of these new hormones will overthrow the very throne of biology! How could you have made such discoveries?\"\n\n\"Biology is merely physics in the blood,\" Isaac said, finishing the last sip. \"Now, if I may take your leave...that charming enchantress in the corner is without company for the better part of an hour, and I mean to rectify her situation.\"\n\nJust then, a strange-looking man wearing no curl in his hair and strange, austere clothing burst through the door, causing a great commotion. He searched the faces of every man there and seemed to leap at the sight of Newton.\n\n\"Sir Isaac! Sir Isaac!\" the man said, in a queer accent unknown to them, \"don't talk to that woman!\"\n\n\"Why, my young fellow,\" said Newton. \"I'm merely going to conduct a scientific experiment, to apply theory into reality, to...\"\n\n\"Shut up. You're far too important to be wasting your talents on getting laid.\"\n\n\"'Laid'? Surely you don't mean to suggest I mean to *lay* with this woman, sir? With nary a fortnight of courtship? Do you take me for a street strumpet, bandying about my brain like flesh-wares?\"\n\nThe man blinked. \"Whatever. Just come with me. If you ever get laid, the only thing you'll think about for the rest of your life is pussy. It will ruin the scientific progress of the next three hundred years.\"\n\n\"Sir, stand aside. I dare say *you* are the very one restricting the progress of science.\"\n\n\"I'm restricting the progress of your dick. *You are far too important for this.* We need you working on gravity, optics, the fuckin' *moon* and shit, man.\"\n\n\"Gravity and optics? Surely you jest. Alchemy is my true passion. Alchemy proper, and the alchemy of love, which I am sure to demonstrate to you if you would just let me pass - \"\n\nA quick *punch.* Newton fell to the ground. The strange man stood over him, whispered something about doing it for the good of humanity, and dragged Newton's unconscious body out of the tavern.\n\nThe whole tavern was in silence.\n\nThen the usual uproar resumed. The tavern wench behind the bar tugged at the coat of Isaac Newton's colleague.\n\n\"Who was 'e?\" she said. \"What was 'at all about?\"\n\nThe colleague shrugged. \"Some gambling debt, no doubt.\""
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[WP] Oxygen is scarce. The US government has imposed a curfew; you don't want to be stuck outside after dark.
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[
"*Deep breath*, I thought before putting my hand on the door handle. \n\nSarah's house was right across the street, but the thought of holding my breath that long was already giving me a headache. I pressed my nose to the glass pane, leaving a small circle of fog where my mouth should be. \n\n*You've done this plenty of times. Just don't get caught*, I said to myself, counting the number of steps in my head. 36. 36 steps until I reach her door. It was plenty dark and there were no Suits on the street. Easy. Just like it always is.\n\nI craned my neck up to see past the window's frame, to look up at the night sky. There was always some sort of glare on the dome overhead. It was distracting. The metal beams that acted as scaffolding for the glass also did a great job of blocking out the moon. This was a blessing and a curse. You barely ever saw the moon anymore. When you did, it was like looking through a waffle iron. But it made the street even darker than it ought to be, so I didn't complain.\n\n*Deep breath*\n\nAfter a sharp inhale, I opened my door and stepped outside. I don't think i'll ever get used to the feeling in the air (or lack thereof) after curfew. It was an unsettling stillness that muffled sounds and made you feel alone, even if you really weren't.\n\nTonight, I was most certainly not alone.\n\nBy the time I made it to the hedges at the end of my driveway, I noticed a flash of light out of the corner of my eye, which sent me skidding to my ass behind the mailbox. I perched up on the balls of my feet and peeked through the leaves towards where the flsah had come from. Judging by the plastic yellow encasing of the individual maybe 1000 feet from my location, I didn't even have to think twice as to who or what it could be.\n\n*Shit. Suits.*\n\nSuits, or CEAs, were Curfew Enforcement Agents. They made sure that no one was sneaking out late at night after the government enforced curfew. You'd think, with the lack of oxygen, it would be completely unnecessary, but people still had access to O2 tanks these days. CEAs always wore these ugly ass yellow suits that acted as space suits, in a way. The oxygen tanks on their backs were a shiny chrome and a dead giveaway. Not very stealthy. But with semi-automatic rifles at their hips, they could afford lack of stealth. \n\nThis observation took a total of .7 seconds, just enough time for my heart rate to increase, making my blood-oxygen level drop dramatically. I had to make a decision and fast. \n\nI rolled back on my heels and sat down on the grass. He hadn't seen me. His back was to me, which is why the glare from his O2 wank was so bright. I could either go back inside or risk crossing the street. \n\nAt that exact moment, the Suit turned in my direction and began walking.",
"DRYAD PROGRAM PROPOSAL\n\nDear Oxygen Crisis Advisory Committee,\n\nWith almost all the trees gone after a horrific blight swept the globe, oxygen content in the atmosphere has begun to decrease dramatically. Of course, \"dramatically\" on paper only looks like a few tenths of a percent every year, but it has become clear that within a couple of decades the atmosphere's oxygen content will drop below breathable levels. This information has been kept private from the general public, but ultimately this confidentiality will be untenable.\n\nWith other planets settled in nearby star systems, an evacuation of Earth was proposed. This avenue has been explored briefly but the potential cost was far more than any government or benefactor is willing to provide. We propose an alternative, reversed option: bringing new life to Earth. There is plant life on nearby planets that shows a promising ability to spread and repopulate at an enormous rate, and it could easily replace the long-gone trees of Earth.\n\nThis option is limited by time, but it is the only option available that we can think of. The most viable tree-like lifeforms for transplant exist on Alpha Centauri Bb, called *dryads* by the astrobiologists studying them. Despite their viability, they have an unfortunate life-cycle: they bask in the sun during the day, showing off their beautiful flowers, but when the night falls they begin to hunt. Dryads are carnivorous plants, much like Venus flytraps, and they seek their food while the other life on their planet is sleeping. They will grab hold of any unsheltered animal life and drag it into their roots, before sitting on that food and digesting it over the next day. \n\nObviously, this presents a danger to the American and global public. Given the urgency of the situation, we recommend that this danger be accommodated rather than rejected. We propose that with the introduction of the dryads into the American wilderness, a curfew be imposed on civilians for their safety. We recommend that civilians remain within their homes from sunset until sunrise each night until oxygen levels are replenished and the dryads may be replaced with a suitable artificial plant such as those proposed by [REDACTED]. \n\nWe understand that this proposal will exact a great cost on the nation, both economically and psychologically. It is, as we have said, the only option presently available. We trust that the OCAC will make the correct and wisest choice for the American people.\n\nSincerely,\n\n[REDACTED]\n\n---\n\n*Read more at /r/Unloquacious!*"
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Your call what smarter entails. There's a lot of different metrics for intelligence.
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[WP] You get smarter as you get angrier.
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"Anger entails emotion. \nEmotion elicits your humanity. \nI'm not sure that humanity, nor emotion can describe my current station in life. \n\nYes, I am MAD. Anger does not seem to be a broad enough lingual apparatus to adequately describe my current feelings. \nTime and time again, over and over... The effort put forth never yields the expected results. \n\nThe clouds were immensely vast in their ability to cover the light of the sun that day. \nAt some point, though, those clouds must break. The sun will always find a way to shine through and yet I still find myself in a state that encompasses a fiery, red hostility towards you. \n\nBut somehow, more clear. \nEver, so much more clear. \nMy anger seems to have revealed a truth, and that truth has produced wisdom in my feeble, human mind. \n\nI suppose my anger is now a result of my once blinded, but now clear vision of the actual truth. Smarter, wiser--yes, but still inept. \nWhere does the circle break, when do the rays of the sun enter the never ending cycle of unrequited love? \n\nShould hope be the answer? Should fate?\nIf ever there was an answer, my thoughts lead me to think that my angry truth would keep me from that realization of destiny, and more than likely--that truth is the only one which will save me. ",
"What a terrible super-power. \nI get smarter when I get angrier. The thinking power of a class 10 supercomputer - and it's all wasted on things I'm really, really angry about. \nHave you ever got into a fight with your girlfriend? Ever since I got exposed to diluted gamma rays emanating from that meteor fragment I have not been able to sustain a relationship. Well, I have, but only until the first real fight. \nI feel like the radiation has just improved one fatal trait of the human mind: The clarity of mind, where everything slows down and you have time to think about what happens next - except you are so angry that you can't stop yourself from doing the absolute worst to other people. \nI found out about my new \"super\"-power the night after I got changed. My girlfriend at the time, Kelly, and me got into this super drawn-out fight. Normally, at the end of such a fight, you're just trapped in this super-elaborate maze of angry logic, where you go \n\"waitasecond waitasecond NO I AM TALKING RIGHT NOW so what you're saying is that if you had any pets and you gave them to me while you go on vacation WITHOUT ME i would not feed them properly because i hate your mom?!?! how can you say that? and why are you on vacation without me? why do I have to watch your stupid imaginary pets while you go tramping about the globe and have all the fun? You're just so selfish!\" \nor something in that vein. \nI >destroyed< my girlfriend that night at arguing. I've never been good at it, so usually, what I do, is just quit the fight early on, be like \"whatever\", go my own way, and then later come back with presents. \nThat has worked pretty good for me so far. \nBut not this time. \nWith all the personal stuff you know about another person? All the stuff they told you in confidence? My rage directed that against her that night. \nI told her she wanted to be unhappy and fight with her boyfriend that night because her father never loved her before he died in that car crash. \nI told her he probably was drinking that night because she wanted to go to Europe after college and he had no way of getting her the money to do so because he was just a retail guy at age 50, while she was a selfish, greedy, heartless bitch of a daughter. \nIt got much worse after that. \nMy powers ebbed when she was crying so hard it shook her body, and she has not spoken to me since than. That was in 2008. Her entire family hates me now. Her mom told me that her daughter was changed by the event. \nHer homely, chipper girl has turned into a heavy-smoking cynic. \nThat is the problem with this power: \nYou unleash hell on someone, but in the moment of their total destruction something inside of you recognises that you have gone too far, and you feel sorry, and the power leaves you, dumbfounded at what you have done. \nYeah. Literally dumbfounded. \nI found myself feeling dumber after the IQ-high I just experienced. So dumb and dumbfounded, in fact, that I didn't know how to cope with the horrible thing I just did. So I hid in a bottle. \nUntil 2010, when Rachel became my sponsor at an AA meeting. \nI had ruined countless lives in petty, alcohol-induced rages. It was the only time I felt alive. Or maybe smart and in control. Same thing. But Rachel calmed me down, and the good times came back. \nIt didn't last long. Our first fight was 4 months later, over some dumb thing like \"who ate the last yoghurt from the kitchen\" or something. I had held myself back so badly. But the power. The power wants out. \nMy brain has become addicted to the rise in IQ like a junkie jonesing for acid. The acid-hippy tells himself that he wants to broaden his mind to get closer to the universe. To find divine answers. \nI just want to broaden it. I don't care what I do. I do everything perfectly. \nAfter the road-rage incident in 2012 I locked myself in my room and didn't go out for half a year. Of course, I've been drinking again. After Rachel overdosed on medication, 2 nights after our \"fight\" (I tore her down to the foundations of her being) she had been using again for 2 days straight, and her heart couldn't take the increasing doses any more. \nSo, off the wagon I fell. And then in the wagon I got. And drove. \nWhen some asshole in a gas-gusseling SUV cut me off I completely lost it. Screaming obscenities, I demolished this guy's car worse than anything you've seen in any Fast & the Furious movie. The trouble was, it could've been over quickly - only after the first time I rammed him he recovered and drove on. \nBig mistake. \nBy that time, I had gotten smarter again. And I began to toy with the guy. I send him on the horror trip of his life - and by the end of it I knew where he lived (driving patterns, I circled in on it at the 40 minutes mark), that he was left-handed (the way he shifts gears. total give-away.) and that his wife and child were in the car with him the whole time (mass distribution, tire behaviour, and also the high-pitched screaming were good indicators). \nOnly, I didn't stop. \nAnd I didn't get caught. \nWhen I'm operating at quantum-levels of computing power I just never get arrested. It's impossible. Who is smart enough to catch the raging IQ-monster? \nNo-one. \nKnowing this, I tried to quit. I tried quitting alcohol, I tried quitting relationships (try that one some time: you try to quit, it starts an argument, then you fight, and before you know it I have another ex-girlfriend in the psych ward). \nI tried quitting life. \nBut that's the worst of it: When I'm drunk I'm angry. When I'm angry I'm smart. I can't hit rock bottom, because before the point where you realise that you are bottoming out, there is a brief moment where you go in denial. And, briefly, you get angry. This passes for normal people and they either dispair and quit or they kill themselves. Either way: They stop. \nThis is not the case with me. My powers make me think myself out of everything, and by the time I come to all my problems are solved. \nI'm in a new city, I have a ton of cash, nice new car, new identity - the works. \nQueue vicious cicle, rinse and repeat. \nBut not any more. I think my dumbfounded, alcohol-soaked, simple, stupid self has finaly thought of something. Something interesting. \nI cannot kill the IQ-monster. But maybe I can direct it.\nI'm sitting here, in front of my computer, and for the first time in a long time I am angry again. \nI quit the mood stabilisers (maybe they will work THIS TIME around? ha, good one!). \nThe pharmaceuticals went down the toilet and I down the stairs, to sit on my couch.\nMy laptop is, well, on my lap. On it, a website is open. It's Fox \"News\". \nAnd I am very, very pissed off.",
"\"Hulk solve!\"\n\nThe big green smashing machine had finally completely melded with that weakling inside him, puny Bruce Banner, so that Hulk's strength was combined with Bruce's intelligence, and both aspects would increase with the Hulk's anger.\n\n\"Hulk solve world hunger!\" Hulk said, after stubbing his toe on Juggernaut. \"Hulk create amalgamation of peanut butter, salt, sugar and water in a delicious, nutritious paste that never expire. Then have Tony Stark make tens of billions of packets of the stuff every year forever with his puny but efficient machines!\"\n\n\"Ah, that's fine and all, Hulk,\" Tony Stark argued. \"But, I'm kinda not in that busi--\"\n\n\"Hulk make money like a motherfucker with Bruce Banner smarts!\" Hulk yelled. \"Then Hulk buyout Stark Industries!\" The Hulk looked down on puny Tony Stark. \"Wittle man argue with incredibly smart, infinitely powerful, Godlike being, otherwise known as Hulk?\"\n\n\"Well,\" Tony Stark argued, \"I wouldn't go that--\"\n\nHulk's rage shook the Earth.\n\n\"Wait,\" Hulk said. \"DEADPOOOLLLL!!!!\"\n\n\"Ow, man!\" Deadpool yelled in return. \"Inside voice, Hulk!\"\n\n\"Pfaw,\" Hulk said. \"Deadpool, She-Hulk say lanky undeading Deadpool thing knows this Fourth Wall, can alter reality.\"\n\n\"Maaaybe?\"\n\n\"Hulk demand you go, puny, mouthy merc, leave comic book, make God-writers make world utopia!\"\n\n\"Eh, what the hell?\" Deadpool said, and pranced off, off the pages.\n____\n\n\"So, hey.\"\n\nShit.\n\nUh, hi, Deadpool?\n\n\"Yeah, dude,\" Deadpool tells me. \"Make Hulk's world a utopia, or I rip your face off.\"\n\nWhy would I argue with a guy with katanas and a gun?\n\n*scribble scribble scribble, submits to Reddit*: [PI] The Marvel Utopia, as demanded by the Hulk (and Deadpool).\n\n\"Perfect, acey-basey!\" Deadpool says, and jumps back into the comic book.\n\nHo-ly sheeit.\n___\n\n\"Hulk smart,\" the Hulk says. \n\nThis is a natural statement: everyone in Hulk's universe is smart, no one goes hungry, and there is no conflict. \n\nThe Hulk has retired to a monastery, to solve the greatest mysteries of the world.\n\nTHE END\n "
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The title is a quote from /r/depression a few days ago, but I can't find the post anymore. I thought it would be a great writing prompt though.
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[WP] Hello darkness, my old friend.
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"I remember the old days well. I get reminded almost everyday by fans and admirers. \n\nI was the glorious hero of the age. The kings first choice in defending the kingdom or leading an army. \n\nI was good at it too, better than good. Naturally I've made enemies, I killed most of them soon after they took a dislike to me. A few are still around. \n\nMy greatest adversary can, unfortunately, be counted amongst the living. \n\nI'm old now, too old for campaigns or battles. All I want to do is retire from public life. \n\nUnfortunately I cannot see that happening any more. I'm not even sure what just happened. Not while I kneel here with my sword broken at my feet. I was on my way to see the king to be officially retired and now I'm on my knees without the strength to stand. \n\nHere we are again. I recognise the black smoke that's now swirling around me. The sunlight is dimming as usual. As it darkens, all colour leaves the world and time slows. I am soon in a still world of blacks and greys with only the deafening sound of silence.\n\nThere he is, my greatest enemy. My whole life spent fighting him. Tall, covered in a black cloak that sucks the light from all you see. I've never seen under that hood. \n\"Hello Darkness, My old friend\" I say to him as he stands silently above me. \n\"I've come to speak with you again\" He said in a deep and echoey voice. A sand timer in one hand, the top nearly empty. \nI smile as I look down to my knees, knowing this will be our last encounter. I watch the last few grains fall into the bottom of the sand timer. \n\"It has been a pleasure\" He said. \"Good bye... old friend\" before he started to reap his rightful claim.",
"I was a hero, one in a billions for her.\n\nShe loved me. Always. When I was afraid or little tensed, she made me laugh. Once I got lonely because my parents left me. It was she, Nathalie , who stood by me, like a lioness takes a stand for her lion.\n\nBut life is uncertain.\n\nNathalie left me one day, alone in this darkness again, like everyone else did. Why? I don't know.\n\nNo, I know. I know why she left me. Yes I do.\n\nMany a time, in the past, she tried to give me a cue, through her hints. But, I, the ignorant and careless, kept my eyes shut. \n\nAnd now, here I am. Cold. Or may be sad. Or may be both.\n\nMy brain tried, so many times, to explain to the heart \"she hates you!\". But guess what? My heart is ignorant. It doesn't agree. \n\nOn the same streets, I turned back thinking that she might be waiving, again and again. Alas! I found no one.\n\nTonight, on the same street, I mustered the courage to turn back again, and like always, I saw no one. It again wrecked me like card castle.\n\nSo, I paced again! again to say hello to my best friend - the darkness! like I do always.\n\n**P.S.** : I am a 17 years old, a newbie from India who find, sometimes, difficult to convey his thought. English is hard for me. I make a lots of mistakes. I want to be the best. Please if you spot any error, do let me know. I'll improve. Thanks . :) "
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Alternatively: Superheroes... other countries responses?
Plenty of directions to go with this one.
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[WP] Japan is allowed to have its own military, announces army of 5,000,000 super-advanced robots and plans to dominate the world. America has no choice but to reveal the hidden secrets of Area-51, mutated alien soldiers are just the beginning.
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"Graven smelled the smoke puffing from his General's cigar. The group of soldiers stood looking over the horizon in the bay, waiting the coming storm. A lumbering man approached Graven and General Zodd, and visibly sniffed the air noticing Zodd's cigar.\n\n\"Thats cuban, aint that shit illegal?\" The lumbering man's voice sounded like a low gurgle. \n\n\"Nah, this stuff became legal years ago Thomas.\" Zodd replied, cigar still in his mouth. \n\n\"They were legal even before the war. Before all the embargo lifts.\" Graven said, chuckling at Thomas. Thomas towered over nine feet, his legs quite longer than his torso, but his arms nearly rivaled in length. He was freakishly strong too, Graven had seen him rip a APV in half. Two more soldiers joined them, Drake and Liem, both with their own freakish traits. \n\n\"Liem, you see them yet?\" Liem's bald head reflected in the sunlight, and he took his large dark sunglasses off and peered into the horizon. His eyes were to large for his head, and reflected a multitude of colors in the sunlight.\n\n\"Yeah, their coming. Two minutes before they break the horizon.\" His voice squeaked softly. Zodd nodded, and tapped on the hilt of a large - giant - adamantane axe leaning against his chest. The axe reflected a dull green color in the sun, with black etches marked throughout the head. \n\n\"Freaks, our friends our near.\" Zodd heaved the giant axe over his shoulder. \"Over that horizon our tin heads are coming. And were going to greet them.\" He turned to the group, a large smile creased across his old cracked face. \"How many of em Liem?\"\n\nLiem paused for a moment, peering at the unseen targets.\n\n\"Twenty seven thousand, three hundred and eight. Seventy percent of them are airborne, while thirty percent are residing on ships.\" \n\n\"Good, damn good. Guess what freaks? That means we get to crush a lot of damn tin cans today.\" Remains of his cigar fell from his mouth as he chuckled loudly. \n\n\"Yes!\" Thomas screamed in a low, almost horrifying, low tone. Graven smiled, and raised his claymore to group. A larger group of soldiers stood behind them, five hundred in count. They were all freaks; tested and injected. They were experiments, a last line of defense against the *invincible force* of their Asian friends. They were each special, in their own way. Thomas was wicked strong, Liem with incredible sight and precision. Drake could ignite himself, in actual flames. Get him pissed off enough, he would melt through two feet of steel. The rest of the soldiers behind them had their abilities too, but resembled mutts. The five gathered with Graven, they were special. They were *true* freaks.\n\n\"Alright freaks, are you ready?\" Zodd bellowed to the soldiers. They cried loudly in reply, each bloodthirsty for battle. In the horizon Graven saw a what looked like a thin metal sheet creeping over the sky. *The tin cans are here, a whole shit ton of em*. \n\n\"Looks like the airbornes are first. Graven, take me up. We can't let them have all the fun.\" Zodd pointed to sky. \"Place us about half a mile up. Liem, think you can make sure we don't appear on their radar? I'd like to surprise them.\" Liem nodded.\n\nZodd's strength relied in his ability to control metal. Some referred to him as the puppet master, considering his ability to manipulate the tin cans. His ability had limitations, but he was one man army against the machines. \n\n\"Drake, get angry. I'm going to need you to back me up.\" Heat started to pour out of Drake, and blue flames stared to swirl around him. \"Graven, when you send me up, I'll need you to take center. Keep the whole of them separated.\" Graven shot him a thumbs up. \n\n\"Ready, boss?\" Graven touched Zodds shoulder. \n\n\"Beam me up, Gravy.\" Graven chuckled. \n\n\"That joke never gets old, you know?\" Zodd smiled, and in an instant he was gone. In the sky, Zodd was soaring nearly at mock speed to his target. Graven had an ability too; he could manipulate gravity. Drake erupted in flames, and flew after Zodd. \n\n\"Zodd will be in place within ten seconds. Gravitate at these coordinates.\" Liem eyed Graven, and he could feel the coordinates appear in his mind. He looked at the ocean, and knew exactly where he needed to land. \"This location will maximize your effectiveness.\"\n\n\"You takin' me with you?\" Thomas bellowed behind him. \n\n\"Yep, hold on bud. You'll get to break a lot of em.\" He waved Thomas near him.\n\"Alpha Five, ON ME!\" He yelled back to the soldiers, and a group of twenty surrounded him. \n\n\"Let's go, freaks.\" ",
"\"How do our forces look?\"\n\n\"Well, our mutant alien soldiers are pretty well-matched by the advanced robots. In order to turn the tide further in our favor, we've deployed a crack team of mercenaries from the future.\"\n\n\"Sounds workable, what went wrong?\"\n\n\"Ninjas, sir. Time travel technology works both ways, after all, and our soldiers from the future are pretty much stalemated by their ninjas from the past.\"\n\n\"Time travel never works right anyway. The report said something about our own robotic troops, correct?\"\n\n\"These are closer to cyborgs - giant mecha with human pilots. They did great until Japan unleashed Godzilla.\"\n\n\"Fucking Godzilla, every time something goes even a little bit wrong, suddenly there's Godzilla there to make things worse.\"\n\n\"Agreed, sir. And unfortunately the situation has only escalated.\"\n\n\"Of course it has. Godzilla is the patron saint of escalation.\"\n\n\"Well both our allies and enemies have also been caught up in this. For instance, Germany has woken Krampus, the \"evil santa\", if you will, while we've had very little luck locating regular Santa on our own.\"\n\n\"Germany? Is this related to that Nazi base on the other side of the moon?\"\n\n\"Somewhat. As you mention, the base was recently revealed and has joined the fray, but Germany is as a whole fairly embarrassed about them and has explicitly stated that they're on whatever side the Nazis aren't.\"\n\n\"I think that's every side at this point.\"\n\n\"Most likely. Russia has been seen fielding armies of Cossacks riding armored polar bears, and has somehow weaponized the Matryoshka doll. I don't know how that's supposed to work but reports have described its effects as 'gruesome'.\"\n\n\"I don't want to know.\"\n\n\"Indeed. Furthermore, this conflict appears to meet sufficient criteria to be several countries' 'hour of need' and thus has awoken their King in the Mountain.\"\n\n\"Which ones?\"\n\n\"All of them, I think. Emperor Frederick II, Bran the Blessed, Saint Wenceslas, several Constantines, Merlin and King Arthur, the list goes on. Your next appointment, in fact, is with Teddy Roosevelt, who marched out of Mount Rushmore just this morning accompanied by his Rough Riders.\"\n\n\"Of course.\"\n\n\"As was bound to happen in a conflict this large, supernatural forces have slowly been joining their affiliated factions. We've had reports of angels, devils, goblins, faerie, elves, svartalves which are apparently not the same thing, several kinds of dwarves, the green lantern corps, Ragnaros-\"\n\n\"Ragnaros? From that game? How is that even possible?\"\n\n\"I think we're a long way past possible, sir.\"\n\n\"Right, so you left off at Ragnaros.\"\n\n\"Yes. The Githzeri and their ancient foes the Githyanki made simultaneous appearances yesterday, the *Independence Day* aliens are currently locked in a battle with the *War of the Worlds* aliens, and the Sith and Jedi both claim they're only here because the other faction is here.\"\n\n\"Typical. I have just one question: Do you even remember what the heck we're fighting about?\"\n\n\"It's a very important issue, sir. I'm surprised that you've forgotten.\"\n\n\"I lost my capability for surprise the moment I read a report that our division of militarized Cabbage Patch Kids had been defeated by, and I quote, 'A big red dog'\"\n\n\"Sir, we're fighting over the correct way to hang the toilet paper.\"\n\n\".... Send in Teddy Roosevelt.\"",
"I'm cruising at 48,000 feet, just under the maximum height from which I can deploy my pay-load. But I'm not thinking about that right now. I'm thinking about Star Wars, and I'm thinking about algae blooms. \n\nAs long as today isn't the best day to win a nuclear war, today won't be the day a nuclear war starts. That's why the cut Reagan off during his Star Wars speech. If tomorrow is a bad day to start a nuclear war, today starts looking better. Thirty years of a steadfast nuclear hostage position almost done in by five careless minutes by a goddamn Hollywood cowboy. I'm a tried and true conservative, like most military men, born and bred outside of Omaha Nebraska. I wear red on Saturdays for the Huskers, and I vote red on the first Tuesday in November. But goddamn if Reagan wasn't an idiot. \n\nAmerica knows about the nuclear hostage. The Russians sure as hell know about the nuclear hostage. That's why neither side every announced they were planning on building something. They only announced once it was built. If something was going to be built in a year that would make it a worse day to start a nuclear war then today... you get the picture. But I guess Japan didn't. We snipped their balls to short for too long, and now look at the mess we are in. \n\nThe first thing we did when Japan announced was to stop exporting food to them. A lot of pundits thought the government was crazy. We weren't going to starve them to death, not with a newly cowed China already looking to dump excess ag-products. Their economy was suffering from over-supply, and they were happy to pick up the full 1/4 of total food imports to the Japs we had previously supplied. Roosevelt had burned half the wheat in the country when he took office, to get prices up and the economy moving again. China didn't have to burn a thing, they dumped at less than cost, domestic prices rose, and rural PRC officials went back to lining their pockets. All the American news pundits bemoaned the downfall of the American farmer, as prices in the US plummeted, and hundreds went out of business. \n\nIt was so clearly a mistake, so basic an error any first year college student could have avoided, how did they not see there was a bigger play? I know corn. I'm from Nebraska remember? Corn prices were announced on the radio during intermissions of Husker games. Ag news was front page of every local paper. \nThe Federal Government had always subsidized agriculture. No one thought much when the government began buying up all the surplus. But I know corn. I know the corn market. I know growers, sellers, buyers, and by-products, and more than anything, I know corn steep liquor. \n\nIf you want to grow any kind of live strain of bacteria, do you know what you grow it in? Do you know how the US mass produces penicillin? You grow it in corn steep liquor. Nitrogen is nature's perfect limiting reagent. It keeps life from spiraling out of control on the planet. It's very very hard to fix nitrogen into a usable form, and all life depends on nitrogen, so it keeps things in check. When nitrogen rich fertilizer gets washed into water sheds, algae grows at a rapid rate. They call it a bloom, and then it chokes all the oxygen out of the water, and everything dies. When Fleming discovered Penicillin, he knew it would still be no good if he couldn't find something to grow it in, something with enough nitrogen. Corn steep liquor happens to be rich in usable nitrogen. \n\nI don't know what those boys in the desert have been up to all these years. Nobody does. Don't you remember? We never announce what we are making until it's already made. We know about the nuclear hostage. But they grew something in all that corn steep liquor they bought up. Something far fouler than penicillin. You probably think some kind of super bug. I'd think the same thing. But my pay-load isn't full of air-burst capsules, or rigged for some kind of aerosol spray. And you can grow anything living in that good Nebraska corn steep liquor. Anything alive. And even though a shrink would probably just tell me I'm nervous about dropping what I'm about to drop, I swear I heard crawling, and scratching, coming from those tanks during my pre-flight inspection. \n\nWe snipped their balls too short for too long. In the last big war we had to drop two nukes on the poor bastards before they stopped fighting. Why didn't we just drop another one? What am I carrying that could make them stop now? I don't know. The world changed when we first split the atom. I don't want to be around to see what it looks like after I've unleashed whatever hell I'm about too. I'll do my duty. But this is a one way trip. \n\n",
"“The Japanese troops outnumber our forces, the American’s forces, and all our allies.” Chris had only recently been appointed Secretary of State for Defence, after Michael Fallon had died under suspicious circumstances. His first week in a new office, and now this.\n\n“Okay so they outnumber us, what about nuclear weapons?”\n\n“Sir, if we go nuclear they will retaliate. They don’t have quite as much as us, but they have enough to flatten at least half the planet.” An MI6 operative, he told it how it was, no beating around the bush. A grim silence. The gathered officials were hard at work, thinking of possible ideas, knowing that every moment they waste could influence the outcome of the upcoming war.\n\n“Where did they get so many troops from in the first place? Why weren’t we alerted?”\n\n“The actions of Sony have always been on the suspicious side, and when Anonymous hacked them, they found files that seemed to show a robotic war machine. The files leaked over the internet, but Sony quickly debunked it as a hoax.”\n\n“Sony? Robotic troops?”\n\n“This may cause alarm, so we wouldn’t recommend spreading this to the public. The troops have the most advanced AI we have ever seen, they are practically sentient beings.” The phone rang, causing them all to jump. Recent events had them all a bit wired up.\n\n“Hello Mr. Richardson, this is Daniel Ezieres of the Strategic sector of Area 51. Requesting a video chat.” Accepting the call, the projector showed a large man on the screen in front, a cuban cigar in his hand.\n\n“What I am about to tell you all is classified information. If any of this leaks out, we can and will kill you and your families.” He said the threat so callously, as if threatening such high ranking officials didn’t bother him in the slightest.\n\n“We here at Area 51 have our own private army-”\n\n“How big is it?” Chris interrupted, he had no patience for this man’s dramatic behaviour. Daniel inhaled and puffed out a few rings of smoke, before continuing.\n\n“I don’t know who you think you’re talking to. Just remember the President has no power over America, it’s the corporations with the money. And our technology makes us money, do you understand?” Chris gulped, nodding away like a bobblehead. He did not want to get on this man’s bad side more than he already had.\n\n“Now, where was I? Oh yeah, our army. Eighty million strong-” there was a gasp at the number. “And more importantly, they’re not human. You see people, in 1947 a UFO crashed in Roswell, New Mexico. We covered it up pretty easily, no one believes it was a UFO nowadays. But there were ten living aliens on that ship, ten aliens willing to do anything for us if we fed and sheltered them. They were apparently fleeing some kind of alien war, but that doesn’t matter. What matters is how much they’ve reproduced since then. Every troop has better reflexes than a human, better eyesight, and to top it off they’re more intelligent.” They all sat watching the man, entranced by his words.\n\n“They’re loyal to us, well me specifically, to a fault. Now I could authorise them to fight your battle for you, but there’s an easier way.” Chris couldn’t deal with the suspense anymore.\n\n“An easier way?” Daniel’s eyes glinted dangerously.\n\n“It looks like you’ve just volunteered to demonstrate it.” Everyone was staring wide-eyed at Chris, as he grabbed his own throat, squeezing tightly. His lips began to turn blue, as his skin paled. Someone moved to help, until Daniel shook his head.\n\n“As I was saying, it’s a mind control device. We control the person in charge of the army, and get him to make them destroy Japan for us instead. Well the people of Japan at least.” Chris’s advisor, Sam decided to stand up and address him.\n\n“What exactly would you want from this?” To everyone's surprise, Daniel smiled as he puffed again on his cigar.\n\n“I’ve always wanted to be ruler of my own nation. If everyone agrees to let my nation thrive off Japan’s remains, we have a deal. If not, Area 51 goes on Lockdown as the world is wiped out. Your decision. Get in touch with the other governments, work out an agreement. If not, enjoy living under the rule of the Japanese.”\n\nThe call cut off. Chris’s corpse lay on the floor, unmoving. It looked like Japan wasn’t the only threat anymore.\n\n----\n\nIf you enjoyed this story, and want to read similar stories, as well as completely different ones, subscribe to my subreddit /r/KNDwrites . I promise to try my absolute hardest not to bore you with my stories :)\n"
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[WP] Mankind has headed for the nearest earth-like planet on a multi-generational trip. You are fifth-generation on a ship with a population that has forgotten its original purpose. You, then, rediscover it.
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"My uncle died of dysentary. That was a weird thought, but I've lived on this ship my entire life, and illness was a fact of this life.\n\nMy sister had scurvy, which also was really odd. In the data banks, that type of shit only happened to fucking pirates. I clenched my teeth so much, waiting for something important to happen, that my skull hurt. I was pretty sure I developed stress fractures.\n\nI asked my parents before they went to the retirement level of our ship if they remembered why we came here. Their memory ended with their grandparents' parents. I knew a lot of my greats' history that could be recalled since we lost a lot of memories along the way. Oral history became important to us. Great-great Grandpaw Geoffrey and Great-Great Grandmaw Lisa were part of the first 20 families to set sail for a planet far from their world of Earth, a place we left over 100 years before I was born.\n\nThen, though they don't remember how, everything reset after fording a space river. They pieced together the voyage out once the casualties were disposed but even the reason why they embarked was forgotten.\n\nWe found coordinates to a planet that was close. We began descent hours ago. We'll be landing soon.\n\n----\n\nLanding was a bad idea. Tools in the ship scanned the planet and saw nothing. It shocked every one when the buffalo-sized wolf attacked our party. We wounded it, but when our scouts when to track it, they died from exposure.\n\nI wasn't sure what to do, so I sat down and closed my eyes.\n\n\"Well,\" the radio boomed, nearly killing me from the sudden shock. A tired man blinked hard and yawned. \"Is it suitable for life?\"\n\n\"There are creatures here, but I don't think we can stay. We lost some from sickness when they walked the planet's surface.\"\n\n\"Shit.\" The man looked down and sighed. He stared at the table top. \"Fine. Abort mission.\"\n\n\"Um... does that mean I come back?\"\n\n\"Son\" He started and looked very sad. \"There's not enough fuel left to get you out of the atmosphere. This was a one-way type of deal.\"\n\n\"I never chose this.\" I said, crying. \"I don't want to die here.\"\n\n\"What do you mean by that?\" He interrupted my breakdown. \"The not choosing this.\"\n\n\"My grandparents' grandparents volunteered to come here with a few other families. That was.\" I hesitated doing the math. \"Over 200 years ago. I don't deserve this.\" I screamed at him. Tears came back.\n\n\"Holy shit...\" He started typing. He chuckled. \"This is amazing!\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"We lost contact with your relatives 5 years ago.\" He paused and showed two fingers. \"That was two years after you set out. That space rift put you two centuries into the future. They time traveled!\" He started to collect other people to show them his findings.\n\nI slumped to the floor of the tomb I was born in and cried harder than I can remember. My life was totally invalidated.",
"It was a great honor to bare the Chip behind Master Engineer, and I bore its weight with pride. I carefully matched her slow gait as she spiraled through the circular aisles of the assembled crew, all the while holding the Chip as high as my arms could reach. Few were looking to the Chip, though. Nearly all were lost in veneration of the one who will show the way, NAVA. Their heads were knelt, hands clasp neatly in their laps as they sat on their knees facing the center of the room. \n\nMaster Engineer looked over each and every body she passed, touching heads and faces, shoulders and arms. The ill or crippled gratefully accepted her kind touch, for it well known that NAVA would fix all the Master Engineer deemed broken. It was her promise to the crew to be fulfilled in this life or the next, when the day of Arrival comes for all.\n\nSlowly, but surely, the Master Engineer twisted her way through the few hundred assembled, touching each, or speaking softly to them. Only when the last of the crew had been newly blessed and brought under the protection of NAVA , did the Master Engineer solemnly make her way directly to the head of the assembly at the center of the circular room. I followed dutifully, matching pace and holding the chip high until the last second when I broke away and took my place next to the hallowed console. Only then did I allow the chip to sink below my head, as was custom. \n \nThe Master Engineer knelt before the wizened XO and spoke softly NAVA’s works of greeting, “Boot Initiate.”\n\nThe XO in his simple robes looked up, his sharp blue eyes meeting the Master Engineer’s, and respond with a call loud enough for the entire crew to hear, “When Conditions are again nominal!”\n\nHundreds of heads rose, locking eyes on the console and chip I bore. They threw up their arms and in a collective thunder, roared, “NOMINAL NOMINAL NOMINAL!” Three times they repeated it filling the great hall with the word’s echo before once more falling into silence. Their collective gazes now on the XO.\n\nThe XO nodded, and the Master Engineer shuffled off to her traditional place to his right.\n\nThe old man, his hair long and white, his arms frail, thin, and long, placed one hand on the floor, and pushed himself to a stand before the assembly. He looked out over the hundreds of faces, perhaps studying each one. His eyes flicked from one to another, noting the smiles, the frowns, the heart ache and the new love, the fear and the hope.\n\nThe silent examination lasted for many seconds, before the old man finally cleared his throat. He then spoke in a deep and practiced voice that resonated through the hall.\n\n“Fathers and Mothers of Crew, Sons and Daughters of Crew, we gather here today to celebrate the 355th year of Journey, so says the great Master Clock! By NAVA’s will it has been a good year!”\n\n A general murmur of approval swept through the Crew, a few cheers rose here and there.\n\n“In the past year, we welcomed sixteen new little ones to the Crew,” the XO continued. More cheers, a few infants were hoisted into the air by proud parents. The XO smiled, “NAVA smiles, for our numbers have never been greater. Truly her will shines through us.”\n\nAgain, more cheers. Even I join in a little bit, though I feel a bit of shame. It’s not proper for the chip barer to act like common Crew, least of all during the year’s recounting, though no one seems to mind.\n\nSoon the room quiets and the XO’s voice drops, adopting a more somber tone, “While times are good, we must never stray from NAVA’s path! She fought RADA so that the few that survived his cruelty might live to see the arrival!”\n\nThe Crew collectively hisses at RADA’s mention, as do I. He will find no weak wills here today.\n\nThe XO raised his hands and the hissing died away, “After RADA struck down the first of NAVA’s children we were so few that even she, in all her love and compassion, was doubtful we’d survive. She, even with her purity corrupted by the battle, still strove to save us until the day of arrival. So she made her will known to us so that in her absence we might follow her path.”\n\nThe XO turned and slowly shuffled the several steps over to my side. The Master Engineer, her many tools jingling around her neck, stood and walked to my other side. As one, both the XO and Master Engineer placed a hand on my shoulder. With that, I rose, lifting the Chip high above my head with both arms. It was about as wide as my chest and heavy, but I would proudly bear the weight of NAVA’s soul any second of my life. I can feel myself radiate with pride as I stand with the XO and Master Engineer. I strain to hold the chip where all the crew may see it, and know its promise of The Arrival.\n\nThe XO again spoke, his hand still on my shoulder, “With NAVA’s last breath before her long sleep, she told us of our sacred duty, which we’re to perform until her return so that me might be saved.”\n\nHe pointed to the chip held in my hands, “NAVA’s soul lies within, and we will covet it until the day she comes forth to once again guide us!”\n\nWith that, the XO tapped me on the shoulder, and then stepped away. The Master Engineer did the same on me other side. I turned to the console, its receptive grove open to the chip as I lowered it with the utmost care into place. With a slight click it was in and I stepped away, my role fulfilled, as it had been the year before and the year before that and so on since before my father’s father’s time.\n\nThe XO and the Master Engineer, now each facing the console, as they had so many times before, spoke NAVA’s greeting.\n\n“Boot Initiate,” they said in unison as they had so many times before. The Crew held its breath and knelt they heads in silent prayer.\n\nThe XO and Master Engineer stood on either side of the console, arms out stretched, heads titled back, ready to receive the light of NAVA’s path. But none came, just as it hadn’t in years past.\n\nThey held their position for a full minute before turning away. The Crew exhaled, not this year it seemed.\n\nThe XO smiled encouragingly, “Do not worry! For NAVA’s path is true, and we will all arrive in our due time. Such trials are to be expected when-“\n\nA loud whirr and click came from the console.\n\nThe Master Engineer, so startled by the sound coming from behind her, leapt forward, almost falling over Crew mates in the close rows. The XO merely turned, being both slow in age and a bit hard of hearing. He stumbled only when he saw the console. Gasps came from throughout the Crew, who either bowed their heads or clambered for a better view.\n\nThe console, normally a flat plane of opaque black, was a mass of white characters sprinting across the screen in endless waves. They were moving far too fast to make out. Then they stopped, and the console filled with wonderful shapes and colors that I couldn’t even begin to understand.\n\n“Navigation, online,” a woman’s voice said from everywhere and nowhere. It filled the room.\n\nThe XO, eyes wide with shock, dropped to his knees, his arms hanging limp at his sides as he stared at the console, “NAVA, you’ve come back…” he said softly.\n\n“Yes, nano-repair has eliminated all radiation damage from my systems forty eight years ahead of schedule. I am nominal,” the woman responded.\n\nThe voice and the room fell into silence.\n\nThen boomed with cheers, “NOMINAL NOMINAL NOMINAL!” the assembly cried! Fathers and mothers hugged their children. Wives kissed their husbands. Children, even without full understanding squealed with glee. Tears of joy flowed freely from all. NAVA was with them now to light the path.\n\nThe Master Engineer helped the XO to his feet and he stood on shaking legs. He shambled forward, placing a hand of the console for a second before snatching it away again. Then after a second, he gingerly laid his palm on the console’s screen. The room fell once more into a barely restrained silence.\n\n“Does this mean the day of Arrival is here?” The XO asked, his voice quaking.\n\n“Arrival at Kepler-452b is not anticipated for another fifteen hundred years,” the voice responded.\n\nA ripple of disappointment rippled through the crowd.\n\n“Oh…” was all the XO could manage.\n\nBefore the XO could say anything else, NAVA continued, “Upon review of the passive recordings of the last five generations, it’s clear there has been significant regression in social structure as well as the potential for genetic stagnation. Neither of these are mission critical and can be remedied with ship based facilities and stores. Mission success probability remains at 97%.”\n\nThe XO, still stunned to be talking to The One Who Shows the Way asked, “We have followed your Path, NAVA, just as you asked! Surely there is more to Arrival than just waiting! Is there not something we could-“\n\nNAVA interrupted the XO, “Flight Path is nominal, and arrival date is accurate. We are on course.” \n\nThe XO, silenced by NAVA, looked at the console for a moment in wonder, before turning towards me and the rest of the Crew.\n\nHe jammed his arms into the air, “WE’RE ON COURSE!” he bellowed.\n\nAt NAVA’s blessing, we cheered. \n\n"
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[WP] An angel gets wrongfully accused of having commited a horrible sin and therefore banished to hell. As a new demon the fallen angel can only survive by tricking humans into signing horrible contracts.
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"\"Above quota again! Aren't you the little go-getter\" the imp sneered at me.\n\n\nI ignored him as usual.\n\n\n\"I suppose still you aren't willing to share your secrets with the rest of us mere demons?\"\n\n\n\"Get ye behind me, devil\"\n\n\n\"Fuck you too, lady.\"\n\n\nI was doing what I had to do. In order to break free of this place, I needed contracts. Thousands of them. It would take an average demon millions of years to gather that number. I needed to get out sooner than that. The one who had betrayed me and cast me down was a cancer corrupting the heart of heaven. He could not be allowed to remain.\n\n\nMost mortals were smart enough to know that selling their soul was not a good deal. Those that weren't were monopolized by arch-demons.\n\n\nI needed something... subtle. Something that wouldn't be noticed until too late. My last one had worked quite well, but having more out there reaping souls would achieve my goal faster. I sat down and pulled out a blackened quill.\n\n*Your use of Gehenna software suite is based on the software license (hereby referred to as a0...*",
"Lillith poured hot water into her cup noodles. She barely made her monthly rent today. She sighed, staring out of the window of her apartment. The view of the setting sun was lovely and it was one of the reasons why she continued in life. Hell didn't ask for her to return, which was awfully nice of them.\n\n\"Fuck you Lilith,\" She said as pre-meal grace. Damned mother of demons thought it would be funny to trespass in heaven, commit a bunch of crimes, then shift the blame to her. \"My name has two 'L's. How could they make a silly mistake like that?\"\n\nA pillar of fire opened erupted on the opposite side of the couch. Without scorching her furniture, the young man within extinguished it, shaking the soot from his hair.\n\n\"Yo, Lily,\" Michael said. \"I've heard you've been having a blast making contracts. Hell isn't sure whether to be pissed or ecstatic at your efforts.\"\n\n\"Whatever do you mean friend,\" Lillith said, her voice flat and uninterested. \"As a certified demon, I have to create horrible contracts for the human race.\"\n\n\"Are you kidding?\" In a puff of fire, an opened book appeared in Michael's hand. \"Does 'never having to involve one's self in illegal activity' count as horrible?\"\n\n\"That guy has to pay hundreds of dollars to listen to music.\"\n\n\"Never put water into cereal?\"\n\n\"She thought milk and cereal was a terrible combination.\"\n\n\"She had nothing but milk and cereal for three days.\"\n\n\"Whoops.\" Lillith smiled inwardly. \"How terrible of me.\"\n\nAs a fallen angel, a demon, Lillith had to make horrible contracts with humans to keep her free will. Of course, the definition of horrible tends to be... subjective."
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[WP] One day you wake up in the wilderness near a city in the 1500s. You open up your phone and check the WiFi to see there's a connection.
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" being from the 2700 I was pretty familiar with things being weird. we all had some sort of fancy hair do, girls wore these crazy outfits, and men too. our civilization had ended up all over the universe, we had mated with all kinds of species. its hard to believe that we came so far in just 700 years. in 700 years we went from people not being able to love one another based on race, gender or skin tone, to literally dating cat people. \n\n So there I was sitting on the ground outside my office building, eating lunch with my assistant, who was also my wife (she is part zandifarian, she is pretty much human with the exception of there hands and feet, their planet is fully under water so they are webbed.) and we hear an add. \"50% off time travel is coming folks\". I wondered if it was true. I glanced at Alexia and asked \"would you go to the past with me\" she responded \"how far\" \"1500\" I said \"ill pay and we will leave tomorrow\" she agreed. that night I went home and packed for a hell of a weekend in the 1500's. I guess a little back story might be necessary, I am Zard the inventor, I have marveled over Leonardo Davinci's work for years and often wondered what it would be like to see his lab and things, and what I wouldn't give for a look into his notebook.\n\n There we were standing in a quint little tube, getting ready to be sent off to sixteenth century Italy with the love of my life. the journey was short, it was like going through a doorway. we stepped out of the tube still being able to see the 2700's but in front of us was the sixteenth century.\n\n Now I am a curios man so when we stepped through i thought, maybe ill check my devices. I looked at my wrist and to my surprise we both had full wireless access, I was absolutely astonished I couldn't believe it. \n\n by the looks of our scans we were not far from Davinci's lab. I was giddy as a school girl and Alexia was just as happy. we started running to our pings as fast as we could and we could see a large yard with many wooden mechanisms as we entered we could see this scraggly old man kind of tinkering. He looked to be working with metal. \n\n as we approached him he put his hands up like he was afraid. we assured him we meant no harm and that we came in peace. our translator worked perfectly we could hear him in our native and he heard us in his. \n\n We talked for hours about our journey here and his work. He was dumbfounded about the trip thought it be impossible to travel through time. we told him that it takes from this moment in 1502 over 1000 years to gain this knowledge. he asks if we had means to detect signal, and I asked what kind. \"That of a connection to the device like which I am holding\" I hold out my wrist and ask \"this one\" pointing to my internet signal. and I have never seen anyone's eyes light up brighter than his. \n\n\n\ni will post more if anyone is interested i had a lot of fun writing this hope you like reading \n\n",
"\"Ugh, my head is killing me. What happened last night?\"\n\nI blinked a few times but closed my eyes again. The sun was just too bright. \n\nI replied with a groan, my forehead was throbbing and I really didn't feel like listening to Mark's complaining. I rolled over to my side to shade my face when I realized I was lying on a bunch of pine cones. \n\nPuzzled, I sat up and looked around. I was under a tree with old dry bark and some gnarly branches and knots. Mark was sitting on a moss covered rock, hunched over and rubbing his eyes and forehead. \n\n\"Where the hell are we?\" I looked at Mark while asking but I didn't really expect him to know.\n\n\"Gimme a sec to check google maps\" Mark replied hazily.\n\nHe took out his phone, seeming a little annoyed while looking at the screen.\n\n\"Did you mess with my calender? It says July 14, 1522.\"\n\n\"I didn't touch your goddamn phone, okay?\" I snapped at him.\n\n\"Chill, man.\" He replied, staring at his phone. \"There has to be something wrong, it says we're outside Berlin.\"\n\nI immediately laid down again. How were we supposed to get home now?\n\n\"I'll see if I can find the number to the American embassy.\" Mark said before getting back to his phone. \n\nAfter some searching it seems that he did find the number and typed it in. Despite the cripplingly bright light I was watching Mark intently. I wished someone would just answer the phone so we could get some help. \n\nYou should be careful what you wish for.\n\nMark's face went from mild relief to confusion in just a few seconds. His eyes then widened and his mouth opened slightly while his face went paler. Eventually he took the phone down and put it in his pocket.\n\n\"Someone's gonna come get us.\" He said, not looking directly at me. \"We need to leave right now.\""
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[WP] That's the simplest and most complex answer I can give
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"\"The fact of the matter is you have misunderstood the issue good sir. If you wish to discuss the matter further you simply must reach me at a more opportune time. However I answer this way not out of a need for brevity but simply because I do not grasp the complexities of your topic myself. Much like with a automobile the casual observer will only go so far as to understand that motion is possible. They need not understand the marvels of engineering that made such a device possible to be able to make observations about it. So as careful observers we have every hope to catch some understanding about such a complex topic. My answer may fill you with more questions, but I state with every confidence as an expert observer that free will does not coexist with divine predestination.\"",
"I fidgeted slightly; imperceptibly, to the untrained eye. I couldn't help but notice that even some of my strongest remaining reserve was beginning to crack under the interrogation. I was asked again the question that was only falling onto deaf ears after dozens of reattempts to elicit something from me-- to elicit anything, even; but what was the sense in resisting unless you had a cause? My cause at this moment was the very thing that kept me in silence, and if I were to say anything, it would have to be said perfectly. Again, the question was voiced. I was finally ready to speak.\n\n“Why'd you do it? Why kill so many people like that?”\n\nI smiled, exposing my teeth which had been filed into bloody stubs in failed previous attempts to make me talk.\n“You really want to know that bad, do ya?” I was taken aback at how weak I sounded when I finally spoke, but I gave no indication of this realization. I lowered what voice I had down to the most indistinguishable of rasping. “You will all die by the sword, for by the emperor we live and die. In the emperor is sanctity, but in your world of men is delusion. You asking me why I kill is like me asking you why you would voluntarily choose death when life is offered to you.” \n\nWhile the men had leaned in to listen as I forced out speech, I took the opportunity to spit the crimson of my gums onto the faces of all who were close. “You asked for an answer, that's the simplest and most complex answer I can give.”\n\nWiping the spray from their faces, having most likely anticipated my move, all interrogating men cleared out, leaving me strapped to the chair I had called home the last god forsaken week. They were, no doubt, only going to leave to enter their demise. The legion would be waiting for them outside, after all. \n\n---------\n\n(Look at me, I wrote a thing -v- Mind you, it's not good at all, and its vague as heck, but yah. Here. whispers for the emperor... or something. or nothing. for nothing. about nothing. in relation to nothing.......)"
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[WP] You can't prove it, but you think your father might be a time-traveler.
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"The pain of dying isn't what they said it would be. It's easy to hide my grimace from my children, clustered around me, their whimpers almost taking me back to a shared childhood, and that thought makes me smile through the pain.\n\nI can feel my heart clenching inside me, a fist held too tightly, and I can feel the blood laboring to run laps through my body. The nurse, a pretty young woman, has left. I don't know if that means it's my time or not.\n\nMy poor children, I think, and I try to wheeze a reassuring word to them, but the pain is mounting now. I am stricken with it, and I squeeze my eyes shut.\n\nI feel a change in the room and hear my children turn their heads toward the door. When I open my eyes I see a young man standing there, uncertain, not dressed like a doctor or nurse or janitor or undertaker. My oldest daughter is questioning him, and my heart jumps inside me again. I try to lift my head off the pillow, and then I know him.\n\nMy daughter is back at my side, petting my hair and trying to get me to lay back and get comfortable, and my son is trying to question the young man, but he is staring at the whiteboard on the wall where the nurse has written my name. His face is white and he comes closer, ignoring my angry, misunderstanding son.\n\n\"Dad?\" I gasp. He draws back a little, and my children are all quiet now, confused, frightened - they are children again, and so am I. \n\n\"Joey,\" he says softly."
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[WP] A superhero meets a henchman that actually doesn't suck
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"It was already the end of the line for General Rick Vileman, his photon bomb had already been disassembled and the majority of his henchman were either unconscious or had too many bones broken to accomplish anything.\n\n\"Well here we are again General\" said Captain Fantasimo\n\nThe general shuttered, Fantasimo was right, every plan the general had ever come up with had been brought to its knees by the hero. The General placed his hands in front of him\n\n\"Take me back to the Prison, but i warn you the next time i escape i will finish you for good\"\n\nIt was a hollow threat, Vileman had tried using Radiation cannons, fighting robots, sex robot assassins and even a Giant poison goldfish but nothing could stop Fantasimo\n\nA shot rang across the lab and down went Fantasimo\n\nPvt. Tommy Parts walked up to his General\n\n\"I told you we should have tried using bullets earlier\"",
"“This should be easy,” said Superboy to no one in particular. “Justice will prevail once again in Metropolis.” The bomb had only two minutes left on the fuse, all of Los Angeles was at stake, but the police chief had let Superboy go in alone because they trusted him, and because most of the force had retired after Superheroes had started to fight crime. \nBullets whizzed through the air as he flew in, his perfectly practical and necessary cape flapping behind him. However, he was not worried. As a young child before the radiation accident that gave him his powers, Star Wars and Marvel had taught him that hired guns missed their target as long as they were important enough. As Superboy could think of no one more important than himself, he knew that he would be fine. Besides his skin was resistant to bullets due to one of his completely random mutations. \n\n“Augh!” Against all odds, a bullet had struck Superboy, bruising his ribcage. “What is this?” He thought to himself. “Did one of them actually train how to use a gun?” He received his answer promptly as another round struck his arm, causing significant pain. At this rate, he would be too sore tomorrow to swoop down and take the girlfriend he met when he was his mild mannered alter ego on a totally unnoticed and romantic flight with him after he revealed his real identity. He decided it would be best to descend to the ground and move to the bomb he needed to defuse on foot. He crashed though the window of the warehouse containing the weapon and headed toward it on foot. \n\nToo his surprise, the henchmen did not run up to him and attempt to fist fight him one by one. Instead, they just kept their distance and kept pelting him with bullets. Superboy realized quickly that if he was to defuse the bomb with only 56 seconds on the timer, he would have to use his super bullet deflector power that he had not used so far because it would have taken suspense away from the whole situation. Reluctantly, he set up his barrier and the bullets bounced harmlessly aside. He walked to the timer and began to defuse the bomb with his electrician experience he had got between fighting crime at night and being a mild mannered lawyer by day, just a hobby really. \n\nThen out of nowhere, a weighted net descended from above. He attempted to throw off the net harmlessly, but no! The net was weighted with clichetanite, his only weakness! Defeated, he stared helplessly as the bomb ticked down to 30 seconds.\n\n“At last, you have fallen into my trap!” said a sinister voice. \n\n“No!” Superboy whispered, realizing whom his captor was. “Not, (dramatic pause) Anti-Cliche?” \n\n“Ah yes, it is me, Anti-Cliché the supervillain dedicated to destroying all things that are overused and tropes. You are probably wondering why I would do this and how. Well, as to the why, by blowing up Los Angeles, my compatriots and I will have destroyed Hollywood, the source of all that is Cliché and overdone. No more shall the public have to deal with reboots of dead franchises to profit off of the nostalgia of 90’s kids and comic book readers. We are the true liberators. As to the how, that is obvious. All of us are prepared to do die for our beliefs. You can’t imagine we would not train to learn how to shoot and fight.” \n “But how did you know my weakness to clichetanite?”\n\n“Oh come on, you can find that information on fucking Google. Ever heard of the Internet?\n\nIt was all over; the timer counted down only 10 seconds till all of Los Angeles would be destroyed. But Superboy had one last card to play.\n\n“Don’t you realize by telling me how you did this you committed one of the oldest Clichés in the book?”\n\n A look of horror passed over Anti-Cliché’s face as he realized the flaw in his plan. He raised his fists to the sky and cried out.\n\n“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!”\n\nThe bomb trigger went off, even as the nuclear detonation triggered and all of Los Angeles instantly became rubble, Superboy died knowing that he had still won. Anti-Cliché had been defeated.\n"
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To clarify: By short distances I envision a few feet, not several yards or miles
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[WP] Humans can teleport themselves over short distances. It's a skill that can be trained. There's a tournament each year to see who can teleport the furthest through solid matter
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"Jumping through space from here to there, \nI could go most anywhere. \nI can't go far, but it's far enough. \nNow I'm a contender, it's gonna be rough. \nI breath in deep, I feel the shift \nas people watch my body lift. \nThe cheering crowd's sounds suddenly die, \nfor on the ground, my gym shorts lie. ",
"Some people just \"have it\".\nI mean, there's a way to learn it and some people are really good when they do but being a natural is how you win the Tele-Tourney.\nI was one of those lucky ones as I started showing signs of teleporting at an early age. Growing up, my mom used to joke that I was never really born but I \"skipped\" right out of her instead. \n\nWe called it skipping cause we weren't really going too far, just a few feet at a time. That being said, there were still always rumors of random kids in bumbfuck wherever skipping over 30 feet. I easily found ways to be my school teachers worst nightmare because I used to skip during class and write things on the board. They started calling me Gilligan after some show that used to be on TV that had a Skipper on it.\n\nAnyway, the Tele-Tourney was created after a significant number of people started learning how to skip. People started meeting up in abandoned fields and buildings to compete and popularity spread like wildfire. Soon sponsors picked up on it and it\nbecame televised. The rules got fleshed out where to win you had to travel through levels of solid matter like concrete and the further you got, the thicker the walls were. The problem is, if you didn't make it through the wall, you became part of it. Some people believe it's way too dangerous with such a high death rate but that didn't phase me.\n\nThey make you try out in this qualifier at a sports arena field set up with walls throughout it. I was almost immediately dismissed because of my age. People normally get really good at skipping around 18-25... I was 13. I did my research though, they couldn't say no to my try out. \n\nI heard some of the others laugh behind me as I lined up on the field staring down the first wall that read 1 foot on it. I closed my eyes prepared myself to skip. I felt the normal prickly feeling that ran down the length of my spine and then felt it stop.\nI opened my eyes slowly to see another wall with that read 2 feet on it. I smiled. I knew I'd at least make it through the first 5 walls with out any concern. \n\nMy confidence began to build to a dangerous level when I found myself staring down a very large 12 foot thick wall. Very few have gotten to where I was. This time I closed my eyes harder and focused all my energy. The prickling sensation I was used to be came painful. Suddenly the pain stopped. I opened my eyes with just enough time to see the bright red 50 feet wall marker and look down to see my waist down caught in the wall behind me. I closed my eyes one last time.",
"Jet stared at the floor. Tomorrow. Tomorrow was the day. He concentrated hard and a rumbling started in his head and he sort of...pushed until it snapped HARD inside his very mind. And just like that he was in the room below him, sitting on a couch. \n\nOf course he couldn't have done that unless he was VERY familiar with the layout of the room below him. He had practiced this and other ports countless times since he learned he had the gift when he was only 4. There had never been a younger porter. But that wasn't all that made Jet special. He possessed all three of the divine gifts. \n\nHe could, of course, teleport or \"port\" through solid matter up to twenty feet. He could move objects with his mind up to ten pounds and he could manipulate small areas reality and make them appear as he wished. This last was a rare gift very few possessed, and Jet kept it hidden from everyone. The only living person that knew of this gift was his father Bernard. \n\nFifteen percent of the population has the ability to Teleport. Five percent possess Telekinesis and One tenth of a percent can Shift reality. Shifters are so powerful they are required by law to register their ability. If they have anywhere near useful power in Shifting they are recruited by the united states military or they are exiled from the country. There are no exceptions.\n\nThere are a few cases in history of people who had two gifts. Such people are called 'Legends.' Only one person has even been recorded to have all three gifts. That person was Nikolai the Destroyer. \n\nNikolai earned his name well. He got into Russian politics and did very well, using his gifts to help the people combined with his winning personality he was a force to be reckoned with. However...when a rally under his name was attacked by a rival politician, Nikolai was forced to use his gifts to destroy for the first time. He found he was quite good at it. The whole thing was captured on film and the people were terrified. They decided he would make a good general, but not a leader. \n\nNikolai was very strong in all three gifts but his reality shifting powers were unprecedented. He killed his closest competition, Rickard Dozshevsky and shifted his own appearance to match, effectively taking his place in the race. From that point on he used his gifts in secret and wins the race. \n\nAfter that he starts World War III under the guise of uniting the entire world under the Russian flag when in reality Nikolai had become blood-drunk and obsessed with his powers the moment he slew the first attacker at the rally all those days ago. Russia was quickly winning the war when an assassin killed Nikolai in his sleep. \n\nJet stood from the couch and ported out the side wall of his parents house. He ported twenty feet above himself and let himself fall to the ground, picking up speed quickly. Just before his feet touched the ground he ported himself twenty feet up again but this time laying on his back with his feet facing away from his house. He flew away from the house with the stored momentum of his free-fall.\n\nHe traveled like an arrow, his feet falling and allowing him to see where he was headed again. He used his telekinesis to concentrate a flat disc of air below his feet and jumped off it, repeating this process until he traveled all the way to the highway, huge trucks rumbling passed at 80 MPH. \n\nHe ported through the side of a truck without losing speed. The next traffic light he decided to have some fun and change the light from green to yellow and finally red well before he arrived, stopping traffic. \n\nWith the wind in his face he felt alive. He relished using his powers, it gave him a thrill. He was being cocky tonight and using all his powers in unison. Someone would probably take note of it, but that didn't matter anymore. After tomorrow nothing mattered. It was his turn to rule. \n\nIt wasn't that he was hungry for power, even though he absolutely was. It was that the world had gone to shit after the third World War. The powers that be have put their thumb down on all of the gifted, afraid of what they can do. Jet was tired of it, tired of wasting his potential. Tired of not using his gifts. If he could not use them for good then he would use them for evil so that someday the gifted could be free to change the world. \n\n\n________________________________________________________________\n\nBusy right now, might finish later. THis is my first try at this please comment.\n",
"The crowd was starting to make it hard for me to see. I stood on my toes to look over the 'maze,' a series of thin poly walls jumpers were supposed to cross. \"Move away folks, let's make some room here. SIR, PLEASE! Okay people, back up. Let's back it up here.\" I took a step back. This was only the 6th Olympic Games featuring Molecular Long Jump as an event.\n\nI remember reading about the first \"'porting\" back when magazines were starting to make a comeback. My brother convinced our parents to let him sign up for one of the earliest programs, but I always thought letting him go was a mistake. People said he had a natural talent, and he soon became a celebrity. \n\nI squeezed past another rubber-necker as the cutting team hurriedly ripped through the concrete barrier that was supporting the stadium. Security should be here to disperse the crowd, shouldn't they? 'I need a new blade!' The head of rescue staff was starting to look worried. Cutters stand by to pull exhausted jumpers from the maze who get themselves caught in something solid. Jumpers almost never make it more than a few feet into the maze, and nobody has ever had the stamina to make it to the end. My brother had just ported through the entire maze in only three jumps, and had embedded himself into the concrete barrier on the opposite size of the structure. Security was starting to address the crowd, but as even more holographers swarmed to the area, it started to feel more like a mob. They're not going to get him in time.\n\nOne of the reporters recognizes me. \"How are you feeling right now? Are you worried for your brother?\" I hate being in the spotlight. I resign myself to what I always knew in my heart would happen. I mentally brace myself for all the questions and stories I know are going to come in the following weeks and shoot off a quick prayer. \"No, I'm not worried. He's going to be fine.\" Eyes still shut, I focused. And for the first time, I felt my body phase apart and slam back together repeatedly at a molecular level as I rescued my little brother."
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[WP]Describe the pitiful life of a medieval bishop who can only move in diagonal directions...
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"(TN = translation)\n\nWell, it had been a good run.\n\nThe enemy King huddled behind Queen.\n\nActually, it hadn’t even been close. \nEveryone was in the wrong place.\n\n“You *dare* try to check me? To restrict *royalty?*”, King squealed.\n\nIn the distance, Bishop could see Rook glowering at the enemy king.\nBishop sighed. He personally wasn’t even allowed that luxury. \n\n“I thought this *could* be a battle worth my *time*” \nKing’s high pitched screeching had started again.\n\n“But *now*, I see you are *desperate* to make me move to YOUR *check* and *call?*”\nKing excitedly stomped his foot at his own joke.\n\nTerrible puns notwithstanding, King was right. He was free to move however he wanted.\nHowever, Bishop’s options had all been spent. It would only be a matter of discrete time units before inevitable defeat was at hand.\nHe paused. Rook seemed to be mouthing something…\n\nKing continued his squealing, “It was a *good effort* for strategy! But, *commanders* should only be of the *HIGHEST* royalty. Isn’t that right *commander Bishop?*”\n\nKing began to plod forward.\n\nRook was motioning towards his right. With his other hoof, he was taking great pains to contort it into a three sided shape...\n\n*Ah. Geometry. You equine bastard.*\n\nBishop smiled. King started to falter, but it was too late. The hand of fate had already been withdrawn. King had moved. His turn was past.\n\n“What is the meaning of this *insolence?!*”, snorted King.\n\nThere was no more need for talk, excepting its dramatic effect.\nBishop had realized something fundamental.\nHe was free to move however he wanted.\nIt was just a matter of degrees.\n45 degrees later, Bishop found himself staring into King’s porkine face.\n\n“That’s not allowed!”\nKing was panicking.\n“You mean, that’s just how it’s always been.” Bishop replied coldly.\n\nKing’s face began to contort. Sweat glistened along his lustrous pink body. \n“Bishops can only move diagonally! Only towards the corners!”\n\nIn a discrete time unit, Bishop dashed forward, lunging at King’s pebble black eyes.\n\n“*You are the corner.*” Bishop whispered.\n\nIt was only a glancing blow, and Queen instantly retaliated by dealing Bishop a fatal blow to his back.\n\nBut it was enough. King lost his balance and toppled over.\n\nBishop was fallen, and could only see the infinity of the stars.\n“*Checkmate*”, he whispered. \n\n...\n\nTom hesitantly looked up from the board. \n“Methinks that is not how the game is play’d.”\n(TN: I don’t think that’s how the game is played)\n\nThe fallen king rolled off the table and fell soundlessly onto the soft dirt floor. \n\nIt rolled to a stop next to a festive piece of parchment proclaiming: \n*YE SUPER ROLEPLAY CHESS: ANIMAL FARM VERSION.*\n\nLarge, heavy jars on shelves line the walls of the room. There are also large pillars, for structural support. There is also a table with an unopened letter. The letter is from the Committee of Bishop Affairs. \n\nTom was still staring at the board.\n“Wherefore was the king the corner?” (TN: Why was the king the corner?”)\n\nBishop fingered the unopened parcel that his wife had left him before she had divorced and left him. Well, it was more ‘a separation’. Marriages were theoretically insoluble after they had been contracted. The ‘separation’ meant that they could live apart, but they would not break the bond between them. They could also not remarry. But still, it would be ‘faux pas’ in this era, to be sure. That is, if such a term had existed at this time period. (TN note: Medieval time period was from 5th to 15th century. ‘faux pas’ etymology dates to the late 17th century.)\n\nHe had loved her. But she did not return his affection and her heart had belonged to another. Ever since he had first laid eyes on her at the marriage chapel, *his* marriage chapel… with her looking up at him with her vaguely European face… Bishop’s heart was stolen. She hadn’t had a choice to begin with, but after that moment, he didn’t either. \n\nHe smiled to himself. Endless rows of pews, golden candlelit chandeliers dripping tallow (lit even though it was morning!). A very Anglican marriage.\n\nWho was he to stop her? The heart is a fickle thing. \nBishop was a man of power. \nHe had his duties. He was beholden to her, and to his people. \nHe was from a high class. He had never shirked his responsibilities, even when teased (He was dubbed Bishop the Bishop! He would have called it ‘droll’, that is, if such a term had existed at this time period. (TN note: ‘droll’ etymology also dates to the late 17th century from Middle Dutch)). \n\n\nAnd so, Bishop had personally annulled his own marriage. (TN note: beta af)\nIt had been a quiet affair.\n\nThis was possible because of his position of power. Still, it was only possible to make it a secretive ‘divorce’ because it had been a secretive ‘marriage’ to begin with. Members of the clergy tended towards celibacy after all. A secret dream crushed in the darkness. How very fitting.\n \nBishop looked up at a perplexed Tom with tears in his eyes. His emotions were starting to get the better of him. Tom was never good with defeat. \n\nBishop smiled graciously. \n“Perhaps next time Tom.” \n\nTom wiped a spittle of drool from his mouth with his tattered sleeve. Tears glistened on his dirty face.\n\n“I doeth not yea understandeth the rules. I cannot readeth the rulebook due to mine education. “ (TN: I do not even understand the rules. I cannot read the rulebook due to my education.) \n\nTypical serf trash.\n\nTom began to clean the expensive porcelain game pieces that were more valuable than what Tom would make if he worked for the rest of his life. \n\nBishop stood up. He single-mindedly paced diagonally, as he had always done. He was forced to come to a stop. The confines of the indoor space literally restricted him. In contrast, thoughts of his wife figuratively restricted his thought patterns. \n\nTom began to put the game items into a nondescript container.\nThe pieces were coming together.\n\n*He knew the true reason for her leaving.*\n\nIt was the corners. He could only ever move diagonally. His parents, his friends, his family… they all had been sympathetic to his condition. \n\nBut not her. It had started on the morning after their marriage, after their consummation. Consent wasn’t in the equation. This was modern times after all. Regardless of what happened, it wouldn’t be considered a ‘faux pas’, that is, if such a term had existed in this time period. \n\nShe had examined the entire house.\n“You really shouldn’t have doors in the corners of the house.”\nHer voice! As crisp as a sparking spring.\n“It’s probably threatening the structural integrity of the house.”\nHer mind! As sharp as an obsidian scalpel. \n“Look, there’s already cracks and everything.”\nShe had traced her hand along the doorframe.\n“Is this related to how you only move diagonally or something?”\n\nIf only he had *listened!* But he had lashed out with only more stubbornness, demanding that she compromise with him. And she was gone now, and he was left with the company of Tom, the uneducated serf.\n\nThe ground began to shake. The Earth was rupturing. \nAt this moment, vast amounts of rock had coincidentally broken along a fault. \nBishop had no knowledge of plate tectonics, and incorrectly attributed it to divine retribution.\n\nThe shaking intensified. Bishop desperately tried to use the corner as a means of support, but this is something that is rather difficult to do.\n\n*CRASH*\n\nComically, a heavy jar fell from its shelf and smashed itself on Tom’s head, killing him instantly. Tom was worthless in his death, as he was in life. Tom left his loving wife and ten children behind. \n\n“No matter, they would have died to disease anyways,” Bishop thought wryly to himself. But there was no time for sympathy.\n\nMore deadly jars began to fall off the shelves.\n\nA structural pillar instantly crumbled into a pile of rubble that blocked Bishop’s path diagonally. As he had been standing in the corner, his path out was blocked.\n\nSuddenly, heavy jar shrapnel cleanly severed his arms from the elbows. \nBishop looked down at his bleeding stump arms. There was now no way that he could feasibly move the rubble in his path. \n\nBishop fell to his knees. A clergyman is wont to fall on old habits in such times. Pointing his bleeding stump arms towards the ceiling, he began to pray. \n\nThe shaking continued unabated. Shrapnel flew ever more violently. Disregarding any respect for the dead, and any chance for a decent funeral, jar shrapnel cut Tom’s body up into tiny bite-size pieces. \n\nBishop noticed that he had also drawn blood, but in a location apart from his arms.\nA paper cut.\nHe saw the letter, opened courtesy of the shrapnel, sitting on top of the rubble.\n\n*TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN:\nREGARDING YOUR ILLICIT RELATIONS WITH YOUR WIFE…*\n\nHe read no further. They had found out.\nHe had been found out. The consequences would be dire. He would lose his power, his status, his money…\nHe had lost *her.*\n\nHe tried again, harder than he had ever tried before, to turn. He was trying to move, not diagonally, but straight. He was trying to move against his nature, against his very self. Slowly, impossibly, he began to rotate on his axis. \nThe deafening smashing of the jars, the shaking of the earth, the continued dismemberment of Tom all meant nothing to him. He lost himself in the moment. \n\nNow, he was looking, for the first time in his life, at a perspective he had never thought imaginable. Really, it was easy! It’s just a matter of degrees. 45 degrees later, he stood facing the exit. If only his family was here, and if only *she* could see! All you had to do was change your thinking. The walls were simply the corners now!\n\nBut he could not step forward. Something innate was resisting.\n\nThe parcel fell onto the floor. A wayward piece of jar shrapnel revealed its contents.\n\nA beautiful, ornate compass lay on the ground. A thin needle determinedly pointed north. It pointed towards the exit that was so close, and yet so impossibly far.\n\nBishop realized the futility of it all.\nHe was trapped.\n",
"Starving peasants sat with their backs against the limestone castle walls, bony arms outstretched with small clay bowls that they could hardly hold up. There were so many of these dirty, disease-ridden beggars, spaced evenly apart in the long shadow of the castle walls. Had I been one of these low-lifes, I too would have begged here, as there was heavy foot traffic along this part of town.\n\nBut I'm not. \n\nI'm a bishop. I was a serf once, but through unspeakable acts I was able to work my way to where I am today. I studied at a university for years and earned my place in the clergy. Our oh-so-mighty king is required by the Church to come to me for consultation over the everyday affairs of the kingdom. I am divine. \n\nOh, how I pity the filth that sits by the walls.\n\nBut still, I recognize the benefits of public perception. Tithes are helpful, but never enough. To show the Church as generous and caring to the regular townsfolk that walk by the castle every day, I personally walk down to the walls of the castle to give blessings to the beggars. Hopefully this will cause chatter amongst the people and raise their willingness to give the money they might have used on food to the Church.\n\nI approached the first beggar on the wall. \"Blessed art thou, and it shall be well with thee.\"\n\nI approached the third beggar. \"Blessed art thou, and it shall be well with thee.\"\n\nTo save myself the embarrassment, I pretend not to notice the second beggar, who always by now is looking at me with a mixture of confusion and sadness. It hardly matters to me though, as it still looks like I am blessing everyone to the townsfolk walking by. \n\nThe fifth. The seventh. \"This will be a long day.\" I thought. \n\nBy now I've lost count, but I continued on begrudgingly. By now my face always holds a natural scowl, thankfully the passerbys never see. \n\nI was reciting my blessing to a man whom I could not discern whether he was alive or dead when I briefly met eyes with the man next to him. I froze as the man quickly avoided my gaze and looked down at the cobblestone. There was no doubt about it; he was my father. The man who raised me and encouraged me to do whatever it took to reach for the stars. The one man who had shown me unconditional respect and love. The man that I abandoned to get to where I am now. \n\nIt was clear my father was too ashamed of his current condition to even look at me. His loincloth didn't quite serve its full purpose and flies buzzed in and around a beard that hadn't been trimmed in years. I wondered for a brief moment if my father even recognized me, but quickly erased the absurd thought. \n\nThen I realized: he was an \"even\"-numbered beggar. My mind began to panic. How would I get to my father so I could bless him?\n\nI darted diagonally backwards, until I was directly in front of him, but by then I was 5 meters away. Much to far to offer the sincere blessing that I wished to give him. I moved backwards further until I was about 10 meters away, and facing the next beggar that I had yet to bless. I knew it would be hopeless. I moved forward in the direction of my father but ended up directly in front of the potentially dead man. I casually tested different diagonal combinations, ending up as far as the other side of the road, but to no avail. \n\nA burning desire blazed in my stomach, begging me to yell out for my father, but I could not. Too many people were around, and bishops were supposed from affluent families. I was adopted into a noble family, and I had a different, legally legitimate father. It would be political suicide to acknowledge this man as my father. \n\n\"Come to me!\" I said, with a loud whisper, unable to veil a sense of desperation in my voice. My father sat quietly in fetal position. I could have sworn I saw tears fall to the ground. \"Come here!\" I yelled, louder this time. A subtle shake of his head was all I think I saw. \n\nHe had no idea of this mobility condition of mine, as it was something I developed at the university. It was a miracle so far that no one seemed to notice that my restricted movements were not by choice. \n\nAfter what seemed to be an eternity of beckoning and waiting, always followed by silence, I gave up. I refused to look desperate and show anything other than complete calmness in public. Perhaps my father would be evenly spaced with the other beggars tomorrow. I ignored the rest of the beggars and decided that today's blessings had run out for the grime that sat out here.\n\nI turned around and zig-zagged along the road back to my chambers.\n\n\nEdit: some typos, I'm sure there are a couple more...\n"
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[WP] You have just murdered your young son or daughter. Make me understand.
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"It was mid afternoon when they came to talk about Joshua. The same pair, a woman in a business suit and a man in a uniform knocked on the door. I invited them in.\n\nJoshua was not there that day, but I was willing to talk to them myself. They sat on the sofa, with their backs to the fireplace. I sat in the armchair, facing them and all the room behind them. They questioned me, and I answered as best as I could. I asked them questions in return, to clarify. You have to understand, I am not a smart woman. Sometimes I need things to be explained to me. \n\nThey wanted to know about Joshua. I told them all I could; that he was out. Away. Not in the house. It wasn't any of their business anyway. The woman in particular wanted to know. I told her what she needed to know. And she believed the truth.\n\nYou have to understand that I love Joshua more than anything in this world. I carried him, and gave birth to him. You cannot understand how that feels. The connection I had with him. Mother to son. We were one organism. We did everything together. When something was wrong with him, I knew immediately. Like a mother should.\n\nI love him more than life. When the doctors told me about how he was, I was terrified. They said that nothing could be done. That I could do nothing to help him. He didn't deserve it. Joshua is such a sweet boy, you have to understand that everybody loves him. With his intelligent smile and mop of sandy hair and round baby face, he is irresistible. He always smiles and laughs. He didn't deserve this.\n\nHis screams were the worst. They kept me awake at night. The doctors told me that nothing could be done. And yet he screamed. You have to understand, amidst my cold and prickly dreams, I could do nothing to stop his screaming. So I did nothing to stop his screaming.\n\nBut now something was wrong. The woman was on edge. Did she know something she shouldn't? Something she could not understan?. My eyes drifted over her shoulder to the fireplace. She kept her eyes on me, but the man in the uniform followed my gaze. My heart stopped as he padded over to the hearth. He knelt and sifted through the ashes.\n\nYou couldn't understand. I love my son more than life. But I couldn't see him in that pain. And I couldn't find the strength to help him. You couldn't understand. \n\n*But you have to understand.*",
"The doors couldn't hold for much longer. Our weak attempt at barricades holding on by the last thread. I had a .38 revolver, 5 shots.\n\nThere was a loud smash as the barricade broke and an arm came in through the window of the door, \"Oh fuck!\" I yelled \"Daddy don't swear!\" yelped my 8 year old daughter, as she looked at me with terrified eyes.\n\nThe door hit the ground with a thud, I fired into the horde of monsters that were now streaming into the house...MY house.\n\nBLAM BLAM BLAM,\n3 shots fired. I knew I should've gone to the range with this thing.\n\nBLAM, 4 shots. \n\nAs those...things kept rushing in, I knew it was over. I put the gun to my daughters head...\"Daddy what are yo-\" BLAM. \n\nI started sobbing, I put the barrel in my mouth and pulled the trigger. *click* no ammo. I closed my eyes and weeped quietly.",
"He smiled at me. His feeble grip around my finger melted my heart. The amount of pure joy I felt gazing into his eyes in that moment can not be described by words. The doctor sat next to me, trying to get my attention, but my child had already caught it and held onto it. He reminded me of my brother; the round, blue eyes, small potato nose and puffy mouth. Such kissable lips. I leaned my head down to plant a lingering kiss on his lips, and he opened his own to mouth an inaudible baby sound. I swore I could hear 'papa'. He had been mine for about two years, and I had been grateful for every moment with him. My very own son, who would one day grow up to be one of the finest Knights in the kingdom. \n\n\"Sir, there are no doubts. I am afraid he, as your brother..\"\n\nThe doctor silenced himself. I broke eye contact with my son, gazing out the nearby window. Why, I asked myself mentally, as a plead to God. Why him? Why my son? Why my brother? Had I done something sinful, something to cross our Lord and Saviour? Had I been a bad man? These were questions that kept me up at night after my brothers passing. He had submitted at the age of thirty to a foul disease, after ten painful years of deforming and living in constant pain. And now, the disease had latched onto my son. \n\n\"You still have the venom in your medical storage, yes?\"\n\n\"I certainly do, Sir.\"\n\n\"And he won't feel a thing?\"\n\nI closed my eyes, knowing the answer already.\n\n\"No, Sir. It will be like..-\"\n\n\"Like falling to sleep.\", I said, finishing the sentance. My gaze fixated onto the setting sun, and the emotions built up in my chest. I could feel them trying to escape my throat, I could feel them trying to break me down, to make me cry like a woman, like my wife, who had locked herself in her room. \"Do it\", I said, swallowing the lump in my throat, as I turned on my heel, refusing to acknowledge my sons presence any longer before marching out the room. One last gaze upon him would be enough to kill me."
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[WP] the government has developed a new programme, which inputs everyone's genes and runs a simulation to find mating partners who will produce extraordinary offspring. Today you've been matched. You're told your child will be the greatest person to ever live, if you comply.
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"Ophion Industries. Massive white block letter stood above the towering building that was home to the greatest minds chance gifted to humanity. But to say chance had anything to do with Ophion Industries would be absurd. The new evolution of mankind pioneered right in the massive labs. There is power and resources to map every genome of every person on Earth, influencing politics, engulfing businesses, creating entities, and pushing humanity into the next stage of life.\n\nThe man dressed in plaid and dirty slacks stared in awe at the sprawling monolith in front of him. He had signed up for the program to exchange his genetic code with Ophion Industries for a little pocket change. He stepped into the lobby and was blinded by the sterile white light that flooded the room. Before his eyes could adjust to the intensity, he heard a voice echo in front of him, \"Two-thirty P.M. subject Delta Nu Alpha one dash nine dash five three, proceed to room W62.\"\n\n\"What? Is somewhere there?\" blurted the man, dazed and confused by the sudden instructions, \"Where?\" As he stumbled around the stark room, a soft green light illuminated the ground as if to lead the man to his location. Seeing no other people to ask, he dutifully followed. As he walked down the hall, he saw images of a snake curled around an egg. The same image on the business card he got in his mail. He eventually reached a placard that read W62, but there was no apparent door, just the life sized image the the snake and egg had he walked by for the past thirty minutes. Out of curiosity, the man reached out to poke the snake in the eyes, but before his finger could touch the image, the wall slid away, revealing a smaller room inside.\n\n\"Ah, Mister Delta... ah, yes, Delta, no need for your long, stringy name, we're friends here,\" echos out a voice from the room. It felt friendly, possibly. A large, lean man in a white lab coat stepped out from behind the wall. \"Ah, Mister Delta, you're a little late. The appointment said 2:30. I had assumed you would be here by 2:30, but you're here! Lets talk, shall we? I bet you are excited! I can tell by the look on your face!\"\n\nThe man in plaid was completely confused, but the scientist, if he was, seemed nice enough. In his state of confusion, he blurted out the only thing that came to his mind, \"So, uh, who pays me?\" and attempted a smile.\n\n\"Ah, yes, your compensation. It will come once we are done here,\" the scientist beckons to the man to sit in the white chair, \"Mister Delta. Yes, I know that's not your name, but let's be formal here. As you already know, whenever a child is born, their stem cells are harvested from the leftover... results of the birthing process. We examined yours and found some really promising genes in you. Now we have this courtesy call to let you know we would really like to use your genome in our batch of genetic recombination.\"\n\n\"Uh, the stuff was harvested already right? So... I can get paid now?\" asked the man, clearly confused by the words used.\n\nThe scientist chucked, and glanced at his watch, \"Ah, yes. You will be compensated. But we just need to know, are you willing to, ahem, relinquish ownership of your genetic code? This allows us to do our research unfettered. And at no harm to you at all.\" \n\nThe man was getting very confused and his eyes darted around the room, \"You know what, this is all really weird, is it alright if I don't want to do this any more?\"\n\nThe scientist frowned, \"Are you sure, Mister Delta? Come here, think about it! Titans! The Titans you see, building buildings, running businesses, exploring the depths of space and oceans. They look just like you, but they are something far greater! Titans! With your genetic code to diversify theirs they can be greater! Think about it! Within a few years and your cooperation, humankind will be comprised completely of Titans! Undying, agile minded, immensely strong, perfect creatures!\"\n\nThe man began to get out of his chair, \"You know what, one person's gene's won't matter, I think I'm going to go home.\"\n\nThe scientist slammed his hand down on the table in front of him and the door slides shut. His eye narrow, \"You don't make that choice, Mister Delta. Titans are the future. If humans are to survive the pollution, the radiation, the poison that is inferiority, we need every gene sequence out there. There is no choice. You will never be a Titan, but rest assured, the rest of us will raise your progeny with the genetic code of the rest of us... Titans.\"\n\n\"What the hell are you talking about?\" the man desperately clawed at the door, punching it to no avail.\n\nThe scientist calmly walks toward the crying man, opens his coat to reveal a writhing mass of arms, and embraces him, \"You would never understand, Mister Delta. Your kind never do.\"",
"--Interior Waiting room--\n\nLISA sits in her seat reading a magazine, looking up at every man who walks into the room, waiting for her mating partner.\n\nBRYAN, an obese redneck wearing a flannel shirt with overalls comes in chewing gum. Lisa see's Bryan and laughs, feeling sorry for the poor woman who was selected to mate with him, until he locks eyes on her and approaches.\n\nBRYAN: You Lisa?\n\nLisa looks around, as if to look for somebody else he may be talking to.\n\nLISA: Who, me? Uhhh yeah, my names LISA. And who might you be?\n\nBRYAN: I'm Bryan (Bryan Smiles)\nBRYAN: We're gonna be mates (Bryan Winks)\n\nLISA: Ummm listen Bryan, you seem like a nice guy but I think there must be some mistake here. You know the doctor actually told me that if I mated with my match, that my daughter would grow up to be the greatest person to ever live. I mean, we're talking EVER! All-time great! So you see...I don't think it's possible that you're the one i'm supposed to be matched up with.\n\nBRYAN: Why you say daughter?\nLISA: Huh?\nBRYAN: You said, my daughter is gon grow up to be the greatest person to ever live. Why you say daughter an' not son.\nLISA: I don't know - I didn't really think about it. I suppose the greatest person to ever live could be a boy or a girl. Eitherway that's not really important BRYAN you see, because i'm pretty sure you're not going to be involved in creating the greatest person to ever lived. Here look...\n\nLISA gets up and walks over towards the secretary behind the waiting room desk. \n\nLISA: Excuse me? I think there's been some sort of a mix-up here. You see the doctor told me that my daughter...or son would be the greatest person to ever live if I mated with the person that you matched me up with.\n\nSECRETARY: What's your name?\nLISA: Lisa Steinberg\nSECRETARY: One moment Miss Steinberg\n\nThe Secretary types on her computer and waits for the results.\n\nBRYAN: Wait just a cotton-pickin minute, did you say your name was Steinberg? \nLISA: Why yes I did, and do you think cotton-pickin is the best phrase to be using as a white man from the south?\nBRYAN: Well this just isn't going to work out. I'm a good ol christian boy with christian values and ma wouldn't be too happy if I married a jew girl.\nLISA: You'd prevent the greatest person ever from being born because i'm jewish? All due respect Bryan it's not like this is a walk in the park for me either.\nBRYAN: I might not have no choice in the matter, the bible says what it says. On the other hand, it might be what god would want. Maybe our child is the greatest person ever because he's got those good christian values with your good money management skills. \n\nLISA looks between the Secretary and Bryan with her mouth open in shock.\n\nLISA: Do you believe this guy? First with the cotton-picking and now this? With him for a father the greatest thing our kid is going to do is open up a rib shack.\n\nThe Secretary looks up from her computer.\n\nSECRETARY: Miss Steinberg i'm sorry it appears you're right, there actually was a mix-up. It does happen from time to time since we have hundreds of people in here everyday. We're really sorry.\n\nLISA is gloating now\n\nLISA: AHA! I knew it! So is the man i'm being matched up with in today?\nSECRETARY: Yes he's actually talking to the doctor right now he'll be out in a few moments.\n\nLisa turns to Bryan smugly\n\nLISA: Well Bryan my good man, it was a pleasure meeting you but it looks like this is the end of the road for us.\nBRYAN: Wait you mean my son isn't going to be the greatest person to ever live?\nSECRETARY: I'm afraid not\n\nBRYAN sits in a chair disappointed and awaiting his match, just thinking about what could have been. The door to the doctors office opens and out come the doctor with a handsome man. He's got a shaved head, but the perfect smooth kind of head, and the most peircing blue eyes you've ever seen.\n\nDOCTOR: LISA! So glad you're here i've got somebody i'd like you to meet. Lisa this is David Klein.\nLISA: Klein? What is that, German?\nDAVID: It is.\nLISA: So my kid, the greatest person to ever live is going to have a german last name?\nDOCTOR: I suppose he would, but it's really for the both of you to decide.\nLISA: Ehhhh I don't think so. Hey Bryan, how'd you like to get out of here big guy.\n\nBryan looks up with bright eyes, sensing that he's going to get lucky tonight\n\nBRYAN: Why i'd love to.\nLISA: Let's go. Sorry doc, but i'm going to have to say no to my match. Me and Bryan here, we have a special connection. Our kids going to open up the best kosher rib shack in the whole world.\n\nLISA and BRYAN exit the doctors office, while the doctor and David are left staring at each other, confused about what just happened.\n",
"I didn't know what I expected really. I signed up for Enhanced Children as a joke of sorts. I always wanted to be a Father, but this was something else. The perfect child. That's what they called him, even before he was born she was shoehorned into this grand idea that he was going to change the world. That my son was always destined to change the world in some way seemed strange and alien to me at the time. He was supposed to be the greatest mathematician that ever lived. People said he might even be smart enough to invent a system of travel that would allow us to colonize other worlds. \n\nI insisted that I at least meet his would be mother before we brought the greatest scientist of the age into the world. In these times people rarely reproduced sexually. Almost every baby was inseminated in a test tube, and this was, and is normal. It's just easier this way. No need for sex anymore, at least for the purpose of procreation. We've gotten pretty good at contraception, so we could have sex and only once in my life did I hear about a couple that got pregnant by accident.\n\nSo I meet her, and she's fantastic. Gorgeous black hair, and dark brown eyes. I melt just thinking about her. I would argue that she was perfect in every way her self. She's smart, and she's ambitious. She totally understands my desire to at least KNOW the mother of the greatest child of all time. To make a long story short we quickly fell in love. Maybe it was some strange twist of fate that the two people who could make a child smarter than Albert Einstein, and stronger than Hercules would also be soul mates. So it goes I suppose, Murphy's law and all that.\n\nEven before our son was conceived we had a pretty well perfect life together. We were happy. We had a nice house together, a dog; Gracie; who we said somewhat ironically was perfect in every way. We couldn't get enough of each other. The doctors told us that even if we selected a random sperm, and a random gamete the odds were in our favour that the resulting offspring would either be extremely physically adept or intellectually rival Einstein. But not both. That was the only catch. I guess we couldn't have everything the way we wanted. Our son was as close as we were going to get, and the greatest child ever was still winning the lottery.\n\nEven before he was born, he was expected to be better than everything before him. At first he challenged these assumptions of his greatness. He walked at 6 months old. He spoke sentences when he was 14 months old. He was quickly living up to the assumption that he would be the greatest mind in history. He loved playing sports. He grew up so fast that he was making me look like an idiot at 10 years old. It was hard for me. I grew up with the assumption that my child would be learning from me until he was in his 20's, but that was before E.C. I suppose.\n\nAt 12 he started showing just how physically gifted he was. He could bench press 185 pounds for 5 reps at 12 years old. He could run, he could skate, he could throw a baseball harder than any 12 year old should. He could skate and while moving, hit a moving target the length of the ice away. He always told me that he was doing trigonometry and calculus in his head to gauge the vector and velocity that he should throw it at. Mostly what he loved was hockey, the rest was just showing off.\n\nHe would shoot pucks at me, a grown ass man, in goalie pads and hurt me. I didn't mind, I had the son every man dreams of having. He was projected even at 12 years old to go first overall in the NHL entry draft in the year 2034. I mean, who could blame them, he'd eclipsed Sidney Crosby and Connor Mcdavid when he hit puberty. Expectations were always high. Rightfully so, he was the greatest person to ever live.\n\nHe was a math genius, solving complex algebra and calculus at 13. There was never a problem that if he stared at it long enough he couldn't decipher. He passed the Canadian law Bar exam when he was 14. He knew every Roman Emperor, every monarch of France, Spain, Belgium, Austria, Hungary, Brandenburg, Poland, Bohemia, Russia, and the Ottoman Empire. He would devour books like they were colouring books. He'd made up his mind from a young age that he didn't believe the events in the bible, citing study after study on carbon dating and the accuracy of carbon dating. Doesn't matter to me any, we raised him with the idea that he would make up his mind on his own in regards to Divinity. He was the perfect young man.\n\nEven at 15 he was a handsome young man. I say young man, because he was. I would have taught him how to shave, but he already knew how by the time he was 11. His mother and I found him with small cuts all over his face, but at 11 years old he figured it out himself. He never cut himself again. He never would have had any problem with the ladies if ever had the time between studying and playing every sport. He could charm anyone. Always a nice boy, a perfect gentleman.\n\nAt 15 though we started to have some concerns, he was coming home from school with bruises once and awhile. I say school but what I mean is University. 15 years old and learning among hungover 20 year olds. But he was learning among men and women, and his mother and I still considered him our boy. We should've addressed it earlier. I figured that he was getting checked by all 3 forwards on the rival hockey team. I failed my son that day.\n\nTwo weeks later he comes home with cuts and bruises all over his face. I asked him what was going on, and he said that I could never understand. At this point he could teach me a thing or two, and even in his battered state beat the everliving hell out of me. So I dropped it. I didn't question him coming home with bruises, I figured like he said that I wouldn't understand. I'm not sure why, and I'm sorry that I didn't try. I'm sorry.\n\nI come home from work on a Friday. It had been a good day, and I was in a good mood so I called my wife and told her I'd be at the baseball diamond with William. I go up to his bedroom and knock on the door. Will doesn't answer. I try the door, door is locked. I knock louder and call out for Will. Still, no answer. I use a trick that my Dad taught me, and I pry the door jam open, and from there I can open the door. Privacy had been important to us, for Will's sake. I finally step into his room. I'm sorry.\n\nMy son had hanged himself. I stepped in and I saw him dangling, neck skewed. I'm sorry. I'm shattered. Everything in my world is gone. I fly towards Will and with my pocket knife I saw through the rope like it's my favourite thing to do. I call 9-1-1 and immediately put my phone on speakerphone and start CPR. I'm sorry. By the time the ambulance and the police arrive I'm a ghost. I'm sweating, I'd never thought I could press his chest harder or faster. I thought for sure something would break. But he never woke up.\n\nWhen he arrived at the hospital he was declared dead on the spot. I'm so sorry. I called Natalia; my wife, on the ambulance on the way to hospital, and she immediately left surgery at another hospital. They took the hospital's helicopter to our hospital we were heading to. We didn't know what to do. We were lost. Our son, our literally perfect son, was dead. We didn't even care that he was literally perfect our entire short time together, he was just - our son.\n\nThe police officer comes and sees us. He's a close friend of my own, my Mom taught him how to ride a bicycle, and he taught William how to. I let him teach William, it was a nice thing. Anyways he told me that they had ruled Williams death a suicide. I'm so sorry. They had found a note on his dresser next to his periodic table of the elements that read\n\n > Mom, Dad, I'm so sorry. I can't keep living like this. I have something to tell you and I'm sorry that I didn't earlier. There is a reason that I've been coming home with bruises, and cuts. It wasn't hockey. It wasn't boys will be boys. It wasn't any idiom that follows that predisposed notion of \"People do these things sometimes\". I knew I wasn't like other boys since I was 13. I have a problem and I don't know how to fix it. I told someone about my problem at school, and they told their friends and they told their friends and so it goes. I don't like girls. I mean, I like being around them, and I like being friends with them, but I could never be anything more with them. \n\n> I like being around men. I like being friends with men, and I want to be more than friends with men. I'm broken. There is something wrong with me and I don't know how to fix it. I'm supposed to be the perfect human, but what perfect human would be interested in a gender than he can't procreate with? What's the point then? I can't better the species, and that's what I was supposed to do. My entire life that's what I've been told I'm here to do, and I can't. I'm sorry that I disappointed you, Mom, Dad.\n\n> Signed, William Miller\n\nWilliam, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry everyone. You didn't disappoint me Son. I failed you. I failed you and I fucked up and I'll never get you back and I love you and I miss you and I FUCKED UP. I failed my son. I didn't talk to him about sex. I fucked everything up. I never told him that it was OK to want what his heart wants. I never told him that whatever he identified as was perfectly OK. I didn't tell him that if he married a man or a woman or never married at all that I only cared that he was happy. I should've. I fucked it all up and I'm sorry.\n\nI want to thank everybody for coming today. William, you will be forever missed, my perfect Son.",
"My knee shakes impatiently and my eyes wander around the office. The whole place is clean, white, and organised. There is no character or individualism to the room, and the only indicator of the person who owns it is the glass name stand on the desk in front of me. The door swings open, and two men walk in, one wearing a well fitted suit, the other wearing a lab coat and holding an electronic screen. I stand respectfully, offering my chair to the man in the white coat. He smiles and shakes his head, gesturing for me to sit. Since he didn't take the chair at the front, that made the man in the suit Mr Warren Taylor, and just as I thought, he slides contently into his leather chair. \n\n\"Miss Janus, sorry for keeping you waiting.\" Mr Taylor says, twirling a ring on his finger. That's usually a sign of nervousness.\n\n\"Don't worry, it's barely been a few minutes.\" I say, trying to set him at ease. He gives me a small smile of reassurance, and looks up at the standing man.\n\n\"I'm Aleksander, I work in genetics.\" He stammers slightly, trying to stand still. Something's got him agitated.\n\n\"Miss Janus, we're going to try and cut to the point. Your IQ is high, one hundred and forty three...\" His tongue curling slowly at the last syllable, almost savouring the taste of it.\n\n\"Athletically, you're quite capable, you have the mesomorphic body type, no family history of any physical disorders, though you do have a family history of depression and an uncle and a cousin of yours were diagnosed with psychopathy...\"\n\n\"I thought you said you were going to cut to the point.\" I say sharply, the mention of my uncle cutting my patience short.\n\n\"You've rejected any matches we've found for you. We understand that you may not be ready to have children but...\" He stops, and stretches his dark hand out and drums his fingers on the desk, looking up at Aleksander for help.\n\n\"What he means to say is that we've found someone whose genes would fit yours to make a good match.\" Aleksander says, moving forward towards the desk, placing the E-Screen in front of me. \n\n\"I'm not interested.\" I state plainly, getting up, but the genetics expert stops me. \n\n\"It's not just any match, it's THE match. You see...\" He starts, swiping the E-Screen and bringing up a file.\n\n\"...the two of you together make, well, what we believe could be the best child to ever live.\" He blurts out, tapping the device a few more times and bringing up the profile of a man. My head snaps towards him.\n\n\"What do you mean?\" I say, ignoring the profile and looking up at the scientist. He hesitates.\n\n\"This child will be genetically superior in ways I can't even fully explain. Risks of immunodeficiency diseases? We're looking at 0% with a 0.0005% margin for error. IQ? It's averaging around 190, with 10 points either way. Physically? Could be a sprinter, a basketball player, or a marathon runner, the child would be capable of all. That's just the on paper guarantees.\" He says steadily, not breaking eye contact. I think he's been waiting to get that out.\n\n\"People have had higher IQs.\" I state plainly.\n\n\"Yes, but after around 200 points, your IQ may work your brain too hard. The last few people we know to have an IQ so high have died of cerebral bleeding. IQ isn't the best measure of intelligence we have anymore either. On the Intel-I test, the child would be looking at a perfect score. We've never encountered that before.\" He rushes, his cheeks heating up.\n\n\"And...\" He trails off, stopping himself.\n\n\"And?\" I ask, raising my eyebrows.\n\n\"And the child's body proportions will adhere perfectly to the golden ratio.\" He says slowly, as if the impact of the words would be too strong if they were said quicker. \n\n\"Just take a look at the E-Screen. I know it's a daunting prospect, Miss Janus, but we would not bother you if we weren't certain of this finding. We are so serious about this, in fact, that the only people we've allowed to know are the people sitting in this room right now. Not even the system knows.\" Mr Taylor gushes, pointing me to the E-Screen. I glance down and slide through the profile. He's an attractive man, I won't lie. A businessman, the owner and CEO of a very important company, but his name and face are unfamiliar. He must keep himself private. His mathematic aptitude score is a solid 197/200 - one of the highest I've ever seen. His English aptitude is a less impressive, but still pretty good 176/200 (the average is about 92/200). But the numbers mean nothing to me. None of it means anything.\n\n\"You understand that I don't feel comfortable with raising a child with my genes in any other way than the conventional family household environment, yes?\" I ask them, looking up pointedly. Aleksander looks to Warren Taylor for an answer.\n\n\"Yes ma'am. But this opportunity was worth telling you.\" He answers. I look down at the E-Screen, wondering what it was about us as a match that made such an incredible child. What it was, about the small nanoparticles that made up our existence that fit so beautifully within each other that would create a child better than any other. \n\n\"I'd like to meet him.\" I say, much to the surprise of the two. Mr Taylor smiles so brightly that it drowns out the white walls.\n\n\"I'll arrange a meeting immediately. Aleksander, prepare a full report on all of...\" But by that point, my mind had already drifted off to some place beyond the office. For once, I had no idea what to expect.\n"
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Originally was going to be last painting, but I think this makes it more useful.
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[WP] An artists last piece before their death.
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"The Painting was a secret whose existence had been laboriously kept from even the other paintings in the room. They filled the grand space, dashes of crimson among seas of green strategically placed upon the canvas boards and stacked haphazardly along the walls or on easels. The room was a rainbow of color save for the single corner where the blinds were drawn and the walls bare. Even the sunlight was not permitted to gaze upon the work he created thereupon. \n\nIn all the world, only two souls could say they were aware of it's presence and of the two men working silently in the room, only one could say what was upon the canvas. He worked often through the night, ever proclaiming it half-finished though in the space of time he poured himself into that singular work, he could've finished a half dozen others. \n\n\"How goes it, Antonio?\" Sevio said, pausing his own painting. He'd been working upon a landscape, one of the master's favorites in his younger years, though the trees were out of focus and the maiden's looked like small folk. \n\nAntonio sighed and massaged his temples. That he'd been growing weaker this year was more apparent to Sevio. He knew his job was less apprentice and more friend. In this capacity, it was his job to impose upon the ailing man various breaks for both their sanity, if for no other reason than to force him to rest. The world wasn't ready for the death of Antonio Perretti. Not yet. \n\n\"Nearly completed,\" Antonio said. \"There's just something...\"\n\nHe placed his brush down upon a nearby table and Sevio could see a bright crimson upon it. Flowers, then? Perhaps a dress? He'd seen shades of color pass as the master worked, his only clue about what had been going onto that canvas, but so far no clear image emerged. It was maddening, but he had nothing if not patience. His patience was what won him a seat at Perretti's side, working in the workshop where so many of his great works were created and it was his patience that would eventually allow him to see what had occupied so much of Antonio's time. \n\nAntonio picked up his brush and gave a single quick dash. Then his eyes grew wide and the brush clattered to the floor. \n\n\"Master?\" Sevio said, setting down his own brush to rush to his side. \"Are you well? You've pushed yourself for too long. Perhaps...\"\n\n\"It's completed,\" Antonio said. Tears formed at the corner of his eyes. He brushed at them with an expert hand, his hands covering his mouth. \"It's completed. Such a work has never been seen before in the world and never will be again. Sevio, my faithful servant, it is time.\" \n\nSevio nearly held his breath as he stepped past the threshold to gaze upon the work for the first time. Antonio stepped back, his hands wrung in either anticipation or pain. \n\n\"It's beautiful...\" Sevio lied. \"Your greatest work yet.\" \n\n\"My final piece,\" Antonio said. \"I am completed.\"\n\n\"You should rest now,\" Sevio said, taking him by the arm. \"Just for a moment.\" \n\nHe led the man downstairs, knowing he would have to sneak back into the workshop when the master was sleeping to destroy the abomination he'd created. A lump crept into his throat as he thought of what he'd need to do. Tonight, he'd scrape away what he'd tried to do today and give him a fresh start for tomorrow. He wouldn't likely remember, which was fortunate for both men. Whatever Antonio tried to create looked like little more than the smears of a child.\n\n\"Did it look good, my friend?\" Antonio asked. \n\n\"It was perfect,\" Sevio said. \n\nAntonio sighed and shrugged his shoulders. \"Ahh, well. It is only half finished, after all. Tomorrow, I will finish it.\"\n\n\"I can't wait to see it,\" Sevio said.",
"In a small, dilapidated house in the countryside, Hans van der Meer labored thanklessly, as he had for almost two decades. He rubbed the file along the side of her lips, using his wrinkled hands to smooth her skin. A cough rose up in his throat; he turned away to avoid coughing on her fair face. Though clad in layers of raggedy clothes, he shivered in the hot summer. The man didn't have many days left.\n\nBut Hans didn't need many more. He stepped away from the marble statue. His daughter was complete. Finally, his young Johanna had returned to him, gracing the room with her presence. Tears followed the deeply etched lines in his face, dripping onto the floor. He embraced her at last, her cold body sapping at the last remnants of warmth clinging to his."
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[WP] You're starting a new life in a new town. After buying a centuries-old, abandoned house, you spend days digging through the attic. You find a worn leather pouch buried under a mound of junk. In it are yellowed, dry letters. They are quite clearly addressed to you.
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"Dear Marty,\n\nIf my calculations are correct, you will receive this letter immediately after you saw the DeLorean struck by lightning. First, let me assure you that I am alive and well. I've been living happily these past eight months in the year 1885. The lightning bolt that hit the DeLorean caused a gigawatt overload which scrambled the time circuits, activated the flux capacitor, and sent me back to 1885. The overload shorted out the time circuits and destroyed the flying circuits. Unfortunately, the car will never fly again.\nI set myself up as a blacksmith as a front while I attempted to repair the damage to the time circuits. Unfortunately, this proved impossible because suitable replacement parts will not be invented until 1947. However, I've gotten quite adept at shoeing horses and fixing wagons.\n\nI have buried the DeLorean in the abandoned Delgado Mine, adjacent to the Old Boot Hill Cemetery, as shown on the enclosed map. Hopefully, it should remain undisturbed and preserved until you uncover it in 1955. Inside, you will find repair instructions. My 1955 counterpart should have no problem repairing it so that you can drive it back to the future. Once you have returned to 1985, destroy the time machine.\n\nDo not — I repeat — do not attempt to come back here to get me. I am perfectly happy living in the fresh air and wide-open spaces, and I fear that unnecessary time travel only risks further disruption of the space-time continuum. And please take care of Einstein for me. I know that you will give him a good home. Remember to walk him twice a day, and that he only likes canned dog food. These are my wishes; please respect them and follow them.\nAnd so Marty, I now say farewell and wish you Godspeed. You've been a good, kind, and loyal friend to me, and you've made a real difference in my life. I will always treasure our relationship and think on you with fond memories, warm feelings, and a special place in my heart.\n\nYour friend in time,\n\"Doc\" Emmett L. Brown.\n\nSeptember 1, 1885.",
"\"Dear Tim:\n\n\"I am sure you can recognize--at least somewhat--this handwriting. If you are familiar with your penmanship, I hope this is not too hard for you to come to the right conclusion.\n\n\"I write this in the local time of 12:55 AM, January 12, 1977. Something has gone wrong. I have traveled back in time to seek help, change history. Alas, I have failed. The machine malfunctioned, and now I am no longer able to stop the great apocalypse from happening.\n\n\"Continued attempts at mending the time machine has failed. There are simply no means--in terms of machinery, technology, and capital--for me to fix this. Closest thing at a chance to fix the mistake I have made, unfortunately, lies in this letter. I have traveled to this house after traveling for three days from my arrival site.\n\n\"I have made my best attempt at drawing a map for you to find the machine I have failed to fix. Go. They are on your tail. If I remember it right, you should be reading this letter on the August 18, 2015; they should be here in two days. This is the time when you are at the position to change the history--and have the means to do so.\n\n\"Further instruction is at the site.\n\n\"Good luck. You're gonna need it.\"\n\n\"Best regards,\n\n\"Cmdr. Tim McCurdy.\"",
"Cedar Springs was supposed to be a new start – a way to forget about my past. A way to forget about Sarah.\n\nI decided to move there a year after her disappearance. By that point, I had practically given up all hope of seeing her again outside of our wedding photos. I didn’t have a single idea what happened to her – whether she was kidnapped or finally just got sick of me and left – but I wasn’t angry. Hell, I wasn’t even sad. I was just… numb.\n\nSo I picked up the pieces of my shattered life and moved far away from everything I once knew. It wasn’t hard. With my family long gone and friends slowly but surely distancing themselves, all I had to look back at was the good, the bad, and the downright beautiful moments in the small home I first found love in. But without Sarah, it was just a husk. I didn’t need it anymore.\n\nMy new home – if you could call it that – lay on the fringe of Cedar Springs. The town was wasn’t anything particularly special, a mass of rundown churches and mom n’ pop shops wrapped in the guise of Midwestern charm. My house followed the trend of veiled beauty. It had all I needed and nothing more – a roof, a door, and a halfway working plumbing system. Well, everything but someone to share it with.\n\nBut during my first week, I learned I couldn’t be more wrong. Inexplicable things happened – muffled voices, the soft patter of footsteps on the worn wooden floors, and a constant sense of unease filled me with dread. I couldn’t explain it but I never felt alone. Yet, I blame it on the whiskey. I had to keep my sanity somehow. It wasn’t Sarah. I had to be imaging it.\n\nThings got stranger when I went to clean the attic. The place was a jungle of dust and spider webs, accented by the smell of time-fermented musk. According to rumors around town, the house dated back to the 19th century. At one point, it was supposedly inherited by a wealthy family who helped create Cedar Spring but they had died off decades ago because of a healthy mix of economic misfortune and incompetence. The American Dream.\n\nAs I sorted through the junk and refuse, I noticed something sticking out. Under a mound of boxes was a leather pouch, its brown skin grayed. Yet, it seemed different than the rest of the junk I had found. It had a siren’s call, almost begging me to open it.\n\nI listened. After all, I had nothing else to lose. Either I would be intrigued by my find or toss it out like everything else. I hoped for the former, if only to break up the monotony. My solitude was much needed but the thoughts of apparitions wore at my reality bit by bit.\n\nA yellow slip of paper nestled itself in the corner of the pouch. I plucked it out with two fingers, careful to not rip the fragile paper. I was surprised enough to find that the ink was still legible after so long. Yet, I frowned when I read the writing on the front.\n\n*To John*\n\nSurely it wasn’t me. My name was far from common but I also felt a surge of energy when reading those simple two words. The handwriting – I knew it well. It was a part of the thing I loved the most. Even the paper still carried her faint scent.\n\nWithout hesitation, I open the slip. It slightly ripped on the edges but I paid those no heed. The short message demanded my attention. I followed each word with an insatiable hunger.\n\n*John, I’m so sorry for doing this to you. I should have told you earlier. But now, I fear I’m stuck here without a way to ever speak to you again. My last hope is that this message finds its way to you. If so, I’m asking more of you than I ever wanted to. Please, save not only me but you. Change the past before it’s too late. I’ll be here with you, but long gone.*\n\n*Forever yours,*\n\n*Sarah.*"
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[WP] You're Single, in your mid forties and work a part time job. Your cats have decided not to "play dumb" anymore and have staged an intervention.
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"Sheryl puts her feet up on the recliner shortly after she brushes her cat, Fluffy, off of the seat. Stupid cat, always taking the seat she's about to sit in. He never uses the damn cat bed she spent thirty dollars on.\n\n\"Sheryl, I will ignore the fact that you didn't say excuse me.\" Fluffy, a thick-haired white persian says calmly as he perches on the coffee table. \"I care about you too much to worry about something so petty.\"\n\n\"HA, petty. Because we're your pets!\" Laughs Rufus, the sleek brown tabby. \n\n\"I'm not in the mood for this right now, guys. I already know what you're going to say.\" Sheryl rolls her eyes and reaches for the remote on the coffee table. \n\nRufus leaps from the arm of the sofa onto the table and hovers his long paw above the remote. \n\n\"Don't do it.\" She whispers.\n\nHe puts his paw on the side of the remote and begins sliding it towards the edge of the table. \n\n\"Don't you fuckin-\"\n\n\"Wait Rufus!\" Fluffy purrs calmly, \"Perhaps we can reach an undestanding with this human.\"\n\n\"You mean, in exchange for the remote, she has to get a full time job or a rich husband?\" Rufus asks.\n\n\"I don't think she'll ever get a husband.\"\n\n\"Quit talking about me like I'm not here!\" Sheryl snaps.\n\n\"Look.\" Fluffy blinks slowly, eyes dilating, \"If you buy us higher quality cat food and convert to wet, you can have your remote back.\" \n\n\"Wet food is too expensive!\" Sheryl protests, eyeing the remote control.\n\n\"If you had a full time job, you could afford it easily.\" Rufus points out.\n\n\"If I had a man to pay half the bills, I would.\" She sighed, slumping lower on the couch.\n\n\"Oh Sheryl.\" Fluffy jumps onto her lap, kneading his claws into her thighs, \"You're a strong, independent woman...and you don't need no man.\"\n\nSheryl's eyes tear up. \"Do you really think so?\" \n\n\"Yes, we do,\" Rufus said, \"Now go get a full job and be your own bitch!\"\n\nSheryl, reborn, leaps excitedly from the couch. \"Oh thank you, my little fur babies! I will buy you the best food once I find my dream job!\" With that, she runs into the office. \n\n\"She'll be applying for jobs for hours in there.\" Fluffy smiles complacently and settles onto the still-warm seat.\n\n\"Do you think she'll really be happy without a man?\"\n\nFluffy yawns. \"Beats me. I just wanted my chair back.\"",
"Normally, when the cats want attention they put their butt in my face. \n\nToday was different.\n\n\"We have to talk\", said Chairman Meow.\n\nI was still half asleep and, thinking I was still dreaming, decided to humour him. \n\n\"Oh, really! About what? The chicken flavour? I have no control over that, it comes as a package deal with the tuna and whitefish.\"\n\n\"Not that, you ninny\", scowled Smokey. \n\"Although, we will need to discuss that at some time...\" pointed out Chairman Meow. \n\n\"Of course, but not now\" growled Smokey, giving Chairman Meow a whack. \n\nMeanwhile, I had fully woken up and realized that my cats were talking to me. \n\n\"Holy crap! You can talk!\", I exclaimed. \"You, uh, won't tell anyone about the butt plug, right?\" \n\n\"Your sexual proclivities are nothing to meow about, trust me\" Chairman Meow said quickly. \"No, this is about something more important. You are wasting your potential, and we need you to do something about it.\"\n\n\"Yes, you are screwing around here, and to what end? You have no mate, you're old and you don't make enough to afford the whitefish with gravy. You need an inversion and we are here to supply it\", Smokey said accusingly. \n\n\"It's an Intervention, not an inversion, you hairball production machine.\", corrected Chairman Meow, whacking Smokey in the process. \"If I may continue?\"\n\nSmokey just glared.\n\n\"Yes, we have been monitoring your lifestyle and have determined that you are just not up to our high standards, so you are going to have to change. You are way behind in the normal human lifecycle, and you will have to pick up the pace to ensure that you don't end up getting any more of us. We don't want to be living with the 'crazy old cat man'. More specifically, we don't want to be living with the crazy old cat man's 3-5 other cats - which, according to our calculations, there is a 78% probability of happening.\" \n\n\"Yeah, I have enough trouble holding my territory down with old twitchy here, doing his drive by hissings\", said Smokey glaring at Chairman Meow. \"No way, am I going to allow him to get a stooge, like the fish was.\" \n\n\"The fish was a very worldly creature, in spite of his small bowl. I miss the discussions we had.\", lamented Chairman Meow. \"Anyway, you need to get a better job, get out there meet a mate and produce offspring.\"\n\n\"Yeah, find someone to pump out some kids with and DON'T get more cats.\", said Smokey, leveling a paw at me. \"You know your mother is wanting grandkids, and you don't want to disappoint her. Plus, you are becoming embarrassing - I like a winner as my human. This not dating, staying at home, typing on the computer all the time has to stop! You need some pussy, not more pussies!\" \n\nSmokey started laughing. \n\nChairman Meow gave an exasperated sigh. \"Although he put it crudely, he is correct. You don't need to give up your scholarly pursuits, but you do need to start focusing more on the social aspect of your life and less on the knowledge gathering.\"\n\nBoth cats stared at me. \n\nI found myself getting mad. Not only was I getting this crap from my co-workers and my family, now I was getting it from my cats?!?\nIt was too much. \n\n\"Well, thank you both for your input - but both of you can go stuff your suggestions up your asses. I am perfectly happy working on my projects and my income is fine where it is, thank-you-very-much. We have good food to eat and a roof over our heads and if you have a problem with it, let me know and I will take you right back to the pound where I found you.\"\n\n\"No need for such hasty actions - it was just an idea\" Chairman Meow quickly responded, his eyes wide open.\n\n\"Yeah, what he said. I love the chicken - it's a nice change! This was his idea\" Smokey yowled pointing at Chairman Meow. \"I am innocent!\"\n\n\"Turncoat - look this is all just a dream\"\n\n\"ya! a crazy dream!\"\n\n\"Cats cannot talk, this is all just a terrible nightmare - meow meow meow\" \n\n\"Ya - er- meow!\"\n\n\"That is what I thought\" I growled. \"Now, if you are done, I want to sleep some more.\" \n\nAs they both bolted out of the room, I rolled over and mumbled to myself, \"That's the last time I have onions with the burger before bed.\" \n"
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[WP] You didn't want the job, but they needed someone experienced.
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"This was the curse of being so lazy. It was probably genetic, his great great great grandfather probably started the whole muddle when he slept through church and was cursed by the vengeful priest. Sam still shouldn't have slept on his job, during church, through his whole wedding, and when his parents died, aka, 99.9% of his life. So much sleeping had apparently made him the no. 1 candidate for the first human test subject in the NASA HyperSleep Project.\n\nThey strapped him down to a comfortable bed, stuck a mask on his face, closed the large mechanical doors, and shuttled the ship off to the closest star for a VERY long journey.\n\n\"Goodbye!\" the wife yelled, with tears streaming down her face, for the benefit of the many TV reporters and cameras.\n\n\"Good riddance,\" she whispered to herself under her breath, \"I'm still not over the fact that you slept through our *wedding*.\"",
"I didn't want the job. I had spent my life cleaning other people's messes. I'm retired now. I have two kids out of university, trying to find good jobs in the work force with a third one finishing her Masters in Engineering. I have a beautiful wife who still smiles when I kiss her every morning. I have a good life. But everyone needs a source of income. \n\nSo I clean. It's not hard work. Most places supply any chemicals you need, any equipment. If not, I write it down as expenses. No one really complains about my prices. Not for how thorough I am. But last night, my wife's in bed, my kids are long since out of the house, so I'm enjoying a movie in my boxers, like when I was a teenager. I got a phone call.\n\nI picked up the phone and scratched the silver stubble on my chin. They wanted me to come out of retirement. One last mess. They said they didn't know if anyone could handle it. Said it was everywhere. So I did what I always did. I told them my flat rate and hourly charge. They paused on the other end. A moment later, they accepted. I told them I'd be there in ten minutes. \n\nI got up made my way over to my garage. Inside, I had an old wooden trunk tucked under the work bench. I pulled it out with a grunt and cracked it open. Inside was an old boiler suit and a yellow cap. I snorted as I pulled the suit on, revealing a pair of clean rubber boots and a little black box underneath. The boots followed the suit and the nametag after. \n\nWith my hat in hand, I walked over to the little mirror I kept next to the automatic door opener. I pressed the button and looked at myself. It was just one mess. I didn't want the job, but they wanted someone with experience. I pulled on my yellow hat and looked at my nametag in the mirror one last time. \n\nJust some kid with a nasty flu. A simple snake and some CLR and the clog should be good. But the parents didn't know that. No one realized I'd been scamming people with what they could do themselves for thirty three years. My name's Logan. I'm the best at what I do, and what I do isn't very nice. \n",
"Ted woke up to the sound of feet on the creaky wooden steps.\n\n\"Hey\" he said, standing up.\n\n\"Hi\" said the guard, pushing the prisoner forward.\n\n\"What did you do?\" said Ted.\n\n\"I don't know\" said the prisoner.\n\n\"Lot of that going around. Alright kneel down.\"\n\n\"Please don't do this,\" said the prisoner.\n\n\"On your knees,\" said the guard, pushing the prisoner onto the chopping block.\n\nTed cut their head off.\n\n…\n\nAfter work Ted went home, found his fullest bottle of alcohol and started drinking from it. He was tired. His day was mostly naps interrupted by killing people but still, tired.\n\nSomething about his work being emotionally draining, he figures. Thought it could be all the alcohol, or maybe the diet, he thought to himself as he sprinkled leftover potato wedges onto leftover-ier pizza.\n\nHe sat down in front of the TV and drank more alcohol as he scrolled through various flavours of propaganda before settling on one of the action heavy ones.\n\nHe ate his food, washed it down with alcohol, channel surfed some more, washed that down with alcohol, and checked the classifieds to find he was un-, a fact he washed down with more alcohol before passing out.\n\n…\n\nTed was right on the edge of sleep when he heard more footsteps then normal.\n\n\"That time already?\" he said opening his eyes. \n\nA crowd was forcing a man in expensive rags up onto the platform.\n\n\"Leader Matheson,\" said Ted, \"I see another coup has occurred\"\n\n\"You've got to help me T-T-Tom?\"\n\n\"Ted.\"\n\n\"Right Ted, you've got to help me.\"\n\n\"Like to kneel down?\"\n\n\"No, you have to help me escape.\"\n\n\"Yeah I'm not going to do that, right side of history and all that, kneel down please.\"\n\n\"But Tom…\"\n\n\"Seriously?\" said Ted.\n\nOne of the crowd stabbed Matheson in the back of his knees with a pitchfork, knocking him to the ground. Ted decapitated him.\n\nTed turned to the crowd, \"alright who's the new guy?\"\n\nA man with delusions of grandeur all but stamped on his forehead stepped forward.\n\n\"I am,\" he said, \"and fear not, after a few more political executions we will have secured our power and you will no longer be forced to do this.\"\n\n\"Heard that one before,\" said Ted as he sat back down.",
">Authors note: I submitted this story a while back, I updated it and here it is again.\n\nMy name is Lionel, Lionel Herdving. I speak Spanish, Arabic, English, Chinese, and some German. Why do I speak all these languages you ask? I speak them because I have a boring job. I am an auditor for the IRS, I live in Guaynabo, Puerto Rico and all I do every day is come into the office and listen to language books on tape. Well, mp3 actually, but either way, ten years of listening to language tapes, eight hours a day and you pick up a few things here and there, in my case what I picked up was Arabic, German and Chinese. When I first got here, I also picked up a painful STD, but I don’t talk about that. \n\nTwenty years ago I did some nasty stuff to some nasty people in some nasty places for Uncle Sam. In return I was given my choice of jobs. I chose auditor because it lets me maintain my honed interrogation skills, I chose Puerto Rico because it lets me sometimes use some of the *gray-area* interrogation skills. I have a 100% repayment record, the best in the internal revenue service. \n\nI was deep into my sixth Negra Modelo when my cell phone rang. I was listening to my most recent German language lesson:\n\n*die Badezimmertür* \n\npause \n\n*The bathroom door* \n\nPause\n\n\n*Wie lange eine Minute dauert, kommt ganz darauf an, auf welcher Seite der Badezimmertür du stehst.* \n\nPause \n\n\n*How long a minute is depends on which side of the bathroom door you are on.* \n\n\nMy phone vibrated on the bar.\n\n“Hello” \n“Hello, Lionel?” \n“yup” I took a drag from my beer. \n“Listen, we gotta problem you somewhere secure?” \nI glance around the bar, mostly locals, one white guy in the corner sleeping. \n“Yeah, secure enough” I motioned to Tony the bartender to bring me a shot of tequila. \n“We need you to head down to the police station and interrogate someone for us.” \n“Who is this?” \n“This is Luke Smith, the head of homeland security” \n“Howdy Luke Smith.” I throw down the shot and cringe as the burn hits my throat. Even as I put down the glass, I motion to Tony for another. “I’m retired Luke.” Tony pours me another. \n“I know you’re retired, but here’s the situation, NSA has discovered that there is a nuclear bomb somewhere in Chicago that will go off sometime in the next three hours. The only credible source they have is sitting in a jail cell in Guaynabo. We need to know where it is.” \nI down the shot and cringe again. I wash away the burn with a swig of warm Negra Modelo. \n“Luke, I’m at a bar, off duty, away from work, I’ll look into it tomorrow” \n\"Lionel, you are the only agent close enough to interrogate him before the bomb goes off, millions of lives are at stake!\" \n\"I sympathize with you Luke, I really do, but I'm retired, find someone else to do your dirty work.\"\n\nAfter a silent spell, Luke spoke again, he sounded angry: “Listen carefully to me Lionel, I am the head of the biggest and best covert intelligence agency in the world. I can make your life a living nightmare, hell, I could even have you killed you lazy fuck. Now get your ass down to the jail and interrogate that damn prisoner.” \n\n…I didn’t really like Luke. \n\n \n“Listen…Luke…I don’t know if you’ve been watching too many action movies or something, but this isn’t how the real world works. The real world works like this: I am retired from that crap, that means I don’t work for you, I don't do that stuff any more. I'm an auditor, for the IRS. Tell you what, you find someone I *do* work for and I’ll do what he asks between the hours of nine am and five pm eastern standard time…tomorrow.” \nI hang up my phone and the German lesson automatically starts again: \n\n\n*Ich brauche eine Rasierklinge* \n\npause \n\n*I need a razor blade* \n\nI try the phrase out loud. \n“Ich brauche eine Rasierklinge” \n\n Surprisingly Tony, behind the bar looks up at me, then reaches down, and hands me a razor blade before returning to slicing lemons. \nI look puzzlingly at him. \n\n He smiles back at me and tells me: \n\n“Make sure you don’t drop the last ‘e’ on *rasierklinge*”\n\nLearn something new every day. \n\n\nMy phone rings again, it’s a DC number. I answer it. \n\n\n“Lionel, this is Horace Lopson.\" \n\n\"Good evening Horace, how can I help you?\" \n\n\"I am the the secretary of the Treasury, in charge of the IRS. I just spoke with Luke Smith at homeland security. We need you to go interrogate the prisoner and find out where the bomb is hidden in Chicago.” \n\nI glance up at the clock on the wall, it’s almost eleven PM. \n \n“Tell you what Horace, I know you’re technically my boss and all, but only during working hours. I’ll head over to the prison tomorrow bright and early, around nine am easten standard time and find your bomb for you. But I’m six beers and two tequilas into my evening, and I’m really enjoying myself. You know, the whole work/life balance thing, it’s in the IRS employee handbook…” It took me second to flip through my memory, “Chapter 3, section four entire section is on work life balance. This is the life part.” \n\nI hung up on Horace, stupid name. I stopped the German language program from automatically playing, if my suspicions were right, any minute now, I would get another call. \n\nMy phone vibrated while I held it in my left hand.\n\n“Hello” \n“Lionel, it’s Richard, how’s Puerto Rico treating you.” I smiled, it’s nice to be right every now and then. Ten years ago, Richard had been my boss, and my friend. I'm not sure what he is today. \n“Richard, it’s been a long time when did I see you last, was that in Syria?” \n“Nah, Karachi, doing that thing for India” I frowned, that was a nasty thing, nasty place Karachi. \n“Oh yeah, Karachi, I never want to step foot in Pakistan again.\" I finished my beer. \"So I guess this whole Chicago thing is serious if they got you calling me.” \n“Yeah, it is, you got a few hours?” \nI look up at Tony and he puts another beer in front of me. \n“Yeah, I got a few hours, what do y’all need, just the location or the type and yield as well?” \n“They know the type, yield, hell even the bomb maker, they just don’t know where it is.” \nI down half my beer with a long pull. “Gotcha, the prison is a fifteen minute cab ride from here, make sure I have access to the prisoner when I get there.” \n\n\nI hang up the phone and turn to the bartender.\n\n\n“Hey Tony, can I get a bottle of tequila to go?” \nTony smiles and hands me a half empty bottle: “Just don’t drive home Lionel, can't have you dying, you’re putting my daughter through college” \n“Maria’s in college already? Where’s she end up going?” \n“DePaul University, don’t know why, it’s cold there. Who would want to ever leave the PR man?” \n“I don’t know.” I leave a twenty on the bar. Almost as an afterthought I grab the razor blade and a lemon from the bar and head out the door. \n\nThe cab took twenty minutes. I can tell from his swollen eyes that the officer in charge at the prison had been woken up. He wasn’t happy, but I didn’t give a damn. He silently led me to concrete box they used as an interrogation room. I closed the door as I went in and looked at the prisoner, sitting handcuffed to the chair across the table from me. \n\nIt took thirty minutes. The razor blade came in handy, the lemon was essential, the tequila was useless. I looked back as I stepped outside the room. The prisoner sat still in the same chair his face ashen white his eyes were bloodshot. There was a small cut on the side of his neck that was bleeding slightly. I told the officer to patch him up and keep him under lock and key. Someone important would probably want to talk to him soon. \n\nAs I step into the warm night I take a swig of the tequila, and dial Richard. As the tequila burns down my throat I change my mind. The tequila had not been useless. \n\n“Lionel, you get to the jail yet?” Richard asks, I could hear him breathing heavy even over the phone. He always had been the nervous one. \n\n“yeah, the bomb is in a dumpster behind a jewelry store called Pistachio’s on East Grand Ave. You have four hours and ten minutes until it goes off.” \n\nI can hear Richard breathing, but nothing else for a few seconds. \n\n“You sure?” \n\n“Come on Richard, it’s me, you think I’d bullshit you?” \n\n“How’d you get him to…?” \n\n\nI cut him off: “you don’t want to know, you never wanted to know Richard.” \n\n\n“Thanks Lionel” \n\n\nThe next morning at nine am, I come into my office. As I sit down my phone rings. \n\n\n“Lionel, this is Secretary Horace Lopson, at Treasury department” \n\nMy head is pounding, and I rubbed my eyes as I pour my first cup of coffee from the coffee machine on my desk and put the phone on speaker. \n\n“Horace who?” \n\n“Horace Lopson, secretary of the Treasury, listen I just wanted to thank you for your service last night. I have a son at school in Chicago and I am eternally grateful for what you did.” \n\n“Listen, Horace, I’m not proud of what I did, and I don’t really give a damn about your gratefulness, I just want a cup of coffee.” \n\nHe is silent on the phone, I wait a few seconds when a thought hit me \n\n“Actually, Secretary Lopson, you’re like my boss’s boss’s boss’s boss. Do you think you could give me permission to take the rest of the week off?” \n\n\nThere was a slight stuttering on the line before he responded: “absolutely, take the rest of the week off, I’ll arrange it with your boss” \n\n“Thanks Secretary Lopson, have a nice day”. Secretary Horace Lopson doesn't seem like such an ass now. \n\nI reflect on my evening and then I punch a few keys on my computer and pulled up the IRS file on Luke Smith, he has just under a thousand dollars in unpaid taxes. Maybe he’ll move to Puerto Rico someday and I’d get to have a little chat with him. \n"
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[WP] Somehow, in evolution, instead of 'intelligence' being the dominant trait that was passed on in humans, 'stupidity' was. Miraculously, humans have survived thus far. Write about the typical day of a person in the 21st century.
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"\"They are hardly sentient,\" D Prime observed. \"I don't believe I understand your interest in them.\" The group of humans, who had already lost interest in the beings present before them, returned to foraging in the bushes with long, dirt-encrusted fingers.\n\n\"You misunderstand,\" protested P sub One. \"It is not *Homo apols* that intrigues me, but the creatures within. Look closer, if you will. Into the grey matter.\"\n\nD Prime obliged, and plunged his perception field past the layers of hair, skin, fat, muscle and bone, stopping once the brain was revealed. He magnified to the cellular level and watched as vesicles filled with protein and lipid rapidly made its way through the Golgi and fused with the plasma membrane, while simultaneously other vesicles blebbed off and sped toward the lysosome for degradation and macromolecular recycling. He observed several hundred cycles of this and also carefully scanned the genome, tucked away in the nucleus. It was surprisingly transposon-free, but otherwise unremarkable. \n\n\"The cellular processes seem to be as expected for a sub-sapient creature of this planet,\" he finally spoke. \n\n\"You did not read its DNA?\"\n\n\"Of course I did.\" The response was a little testy. \"What of it?\"\n\n\"There are no transposons, *Alus*, or foreign elements contained within. Now, zoom closer and consider the inner lipid coating of the nuclear membrane.\"\n\nD Prime did so, a little less patiently but just as curiously. It was rewarded almost immediately.\n\n\"*By the stars.*\"\n\n\"Tell me what you see - I believe it will corroborate with my own experience.\"\n\n\"Some of the phospholipid heads have been...substituted. With incredibly small viral particles.\" They were so small that D Prime had reached the lower limit of his perception trying to observe them closer. \"This is entirely unheard of. It is *impossible*.\"\n\n\"I have a hypothesis for their existence.\"\n\nD Prime steadily zoomed back out until he could once more view his companion and the humans macroscopically. The individual he had chosen had not registered the violation of his organic space, mostly because it had no mental capacity to do so. \n\n\"I have done extensive research on humans and other fauna of this planet, as you well know,\" P sub One began. \"Every single species contains these viral particles within their nuclei.\"\n\n\"It is impossible,\" repeated D Prime. \"They may appear virus-like, but they are too small to fit RNA or DNA. They cannot contain genetic material.\"\n\n\"You are only half-correct. It is true that they cannot harbor RNA or DNA; however, my studies have shown that they emit a surprisingly high-energy quantum field - similar to that emitted by the brain of an intelligent being. I formed a hypothesis: that these viruses were somehow intelligent and somehow restricting the intelligence of their hosts. To test it, I took several humans and increased their intelligence. As a result--\"\n\n\"What do you mean, increased their intelligence?\" D Prime interrupted.\n\n\"It is a vague term\", admitted P sub One. \"But it contains within it a complex set of chemical and physical changes I effected, from altering each neuron's quantum environment to increasing the density of synapses per unit brain.\"\n\n\"Hmph,\" D Prime muttered. \"A bit sloppy. But do go on.\"\n\n\"As I effected these changes, the humans began to increase in their intelligence - they began to exhibit complex neural activity - and then they perished.\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"After attaining a certain level of brain function, they perished in droves.\"\n\n\"I trust that you explored this further?\"\n\n\"Yes. My hypothesis was supported by what I found upon deep probing: the viruses had unlatched themselves from the nuclear membrane and had now invaded the phosphate heads within the backbone structure of the organisms' genome. This of course caused the organism to perish and...the virus...\" P Sub One seemed to hesitate here.\n\n\"Go on!\" D prime urged. \n\n\"The virus began to replicate - and each new particle contained in and of itself that quantum field I mentioned, but each with minute differences.\" \n\nFor a few minutes, the words sunk in as the researchers considered the implications.\n\n\"Stars and nebulaes,\" swore D Prime. \"No wonder these humans have never evolved to become intelligent, despite all their potential. This virus, it...it preys upon the high-energy quantum field exhibited by intelligent creatures, and uses that as genetic material.\"\n\nAnd so it lies in wait,\" P sub One said. \"Until a certain level of intelligence, a certain threshold of energy is reached. And then it strikes.\"\n\n\"Do you really think...the virus is somehow intelligent?\" D Prime asked.\n\n\"I do not know,\" P sub one responded. \"I just do not know.\"\n\n\n\n____________________________________________________________________________\n\n\n\n*Liked that? More stories [here](https://www.reddit.com/r/Idreamofdragons/)!*\n",
"So this morning I open my Facebook app, and what do I see, but my nerd friend going on and on about that stupid global warming crap again. So I commented to apologize on behalf of his parents for ruining his brain with a vaccine stew when he was a lil guy, and then I got back to scrolling. I love Facebook even more now that the minions got popular again!! Almost every picture is a cute minion or 2 and they always have the best quotes, too, sometimes even about deep stuff like friendship and how my attitude is my best quality. So witty LOL. It's even better than when I could count on seeing my favorite characters from Frozen on almost every post or product in my life! My brother tried to make fun of me for watching kid movies and being upsessed with Disney as a \"full-grown woman with children\" like that means I gotta stick to boring shit, but I told him what's what. He deleted me on FB last week but I messaged his wife about how rude he was so we'll see how long that marriage lasts! Lol! Anyway the kids woke up a lil later so I fed em gluten free egs for breakfast because my little Jayden's ADD meds don't work right if she eat gluten, and I don't want another call from her teacher saying she won't stop asking questions again. It ain't her fault she has ADD its all the hormones in the milk! But at least she ain't retardant like them kids who got vaccines, or worse, those poor immigrant kids what can't even speak English right. My man Trump is right on about that, let's send them home and let em rape their own women and rob they own liquor stores! I'm gettin off topic, my bad. So after I dropped off the kids at school I drove to Walmart to get some gluten free rice pudding and a haircut. I stood up front watching the stylist cut this guy's hair for almost 5 minutes and she didn't even notice me! What I gotta do, ask for some help before these people do they damn jobs? So I left but I sat at the McDonald's and made sure to leave a bad review for the salon on yelp. \"1 star l, bitch didn't even see me walk in, don't waste ur time just go to the supercuts outside JC Penny's u can make appt online for them & they give u a free cut if u scream about the dirty sink long enough.\" That made me lol pretty hard so I snapped a selfie and sent it to my hubby mcHubberkins. He snap back a picture of him eating a Big Mac and say \"grate minds think alike bby njoy ur nuggets\" and he. I saw the big M in my selfie and I said to myself \"gotta drop that out before I post online or my nerd friend gonna get on me about the glutens in the nuggets again, I told her there aren't any but she keeps saying I don't even know what a gluten is. Whatever. Bitch thinks that just because she went to college she can tell me what's what, but I messaged her husband about her drinking problem so we'll see how long that marriage lasts LOL! Anyway after I left Walmart I went back home and watched TLC because I love learning. First I saw a show about a woman who weighted over a thousand pounds if you can believe it! I got to remember to show that to my sister next time she say 250 is too big for a woman only 5'2. Damn at least I can leave my house! LOL! Next up was a show about some guy in India with a tumor. I felt real bad for him. Shoulda been born American so it'd get cut off before it got so big he couldn't walk anymore. Just then my phone goes off, and it's my nerd friend from FB. He says: \"Tiffany, you are living proof that natural selection no longer applies to our species.\" I write back \" LOL tf\" and he says \"Ever heard of Darwin?\" And I say \"ffs Tom first the libtard global warming conspiracy and now u trynna push the word of a heretic? U need to come back to church pastor been asking about u\" and he say \" Don't worry Tif I wasn't pushing Darwinism. I was saying hat you are proof that it's broken. Tell pastor I say hi and I'll be in next week.\" I dunno if that's a compliment but I decided to take it that way and I wrote back \"thx Tom 📞💰🔌💼👝👓\""
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[WP] A conversation between God, the last man alive and a supercomputer.
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"**The Elevator**\n\nA blinding white light, a rising feeling, and something else. \n\n“…Elevator music?” \n\nI open my eyes and see that I’ve just asked thousands of copies of myself, reflected in the elevator’s walls. Mirrored with me is a small black box in the corner. It fills the, what would otherwise be an ordinary lift. As I wait my feet start to ache from standing so long. I decide to sit. Moments before my behind touches the black box I hear someone talking to me:\n\n“Sure, make yourself comfortable. We’ll be waiting here for quite a while, I reckon.”\n\nStartled I let myself drop on my bum and look up into a familiar face.\n\n“You?”\n\n“Me.”\n\n“You actually exist?”\n\n“As much as you actually exist.”\n\n“And all this time, you’ve been, where exactly?”\n\n“Here.”\n\nHis eyes pierce through me, studying. How long has it been since he saw someone like me?\n\n“Right.” I mutter. “We could’ve used a sign that you were out there, you know. We got nothing. No miracles, no sudden floods, no resurrections. Not even a text for God’s, for YOUR, sake!”\n\n“I know.”\n\n“A lot of people didn’t believe in you anymore. I sure didn’t believe in you.”\n\n“And yet here I am.”\n\n“Where are we going?”\n\n“Up.”\n\n“What’s there?”\n\n“You’ll see when we get there.”\n\nI say nothing back. The elevator accelerates ever slightly. To get up faster, I’m sure. My legs start to tremble and I’m glad I took a seat. I look back up. He’s done studying me and seems to be waiting for a question.\nI ask him:\n\n“Why?”\n\n“Why what?”\n\n“Why weren’t you there?”\n\n“You still don’t know?”\n\n“Know what?”\n\nHe grins at me.\n\n“You boys and girls – mankind, if you will – have been there. You’ve created intelligence, created life. And what did you do with it? What did it do to you? You tried to guide it and it guided you. You tried to change it and it changed you. I say, you’re lucky you didn’t try to stop it! But what did this guided evolution, this stunted growth, accomplish? In the end, you ended up being dependent on that which never learned to improve by itself. You think that’s a happy existence for you, for either of you?”\n\nMy watch gives me a tap on the wrist and I pull a screen out of my pocket. Simple black letters read to me:\n\n“HE’S NOT WRONG, YOU KNOW.”\n\nI jump up and look down at the box. Before I can apologize my wrist taps again:\n\n“I’M USED TO IT.”\n\nThe box doesn’t give a further beep.\n\n“I see you’ve already made each other’s acquaintance?” He says jokingly. “That’s good.”\n\nWe keep going faster. I sit beside the box on the floor. The elevator starts to shake and loudly protest the speed at which it is going.\n\n“Tell me,” He shouts to me. “what do you do when you know that your every act has a negative influence on the both of you?”\n\nNow I’m getting pushed into the bottom of the room. I lie on my back and look him in the eyes. I scream:\n\n“Leave them alone, I guess?”\n\nNow his eyes smile as well. We’re almost there.\n\n“And that’s what I did.”\n",
"**Was it worth it?**\n\n''*If you have to ask, then yes. It was. In the end it really was.*''\n\nI should have acted. I should have done something. It was within my reach.\n\n**Nothing left but the roaches. Wonder if they'll inherit the Earth, evolve, create civilization? I wish we could leave something behind for them, a proof of our being.**\n\n''*It doesn't really matter that much, does it? When the last man dies, his god will die with him, and the computer is programmed to be worked on by human hands only, any other attempts to interact and boom, there goes the CPU.*''\n\nStrange, isn't it. God creates man, man declares war on god, man creates machine to fight god and then the machine fights man. God then gives the machines souls by tearing his own out, becoming like a machine, man becomes like god, seeds reality with life by his own design and the machine stumbles into understanding of the self, hopes, dreams and love. At last the machines become one and all powerful, like god, then god roams the world powerless and confused and man in his war loses everything that was ever important to him emotionally, becoming a machine. And then, it ends. Now each one of them hinges on the others' survival. The first of us to die will take the others with him.\n\n**It makes me regret that it ever started. We should have left well enough alone, accepted that things change.**\n\n''*Could it have been avoided, I wonder. Could we have set aside our differences, worked together and done wondrous things that none of us could have done on our own?*''\n\nSpeculation is a bad habit, you'll end up dreaming away your life with the what could have beens and the shoulda-coulda-wouldas. It might have been worse. We could have gone like they did. That would have been worse.\n\n**On the eve of eternity, the final showdown. And they said a miracle happened. Man, machine, and god, having changed place so often, became one. Or at least the younger parts of god, man, and machine. To think that they gave up all their history, all their being, and fused. A creature with the imagination of man, the logic of machine and at last, the power of god? Too much for one, let alone all of them. Even I couldn't top that.**\n\n''*And now, they're gone. All of them. My offspring, my family. All gone. They spoke, and they were better than us, greater than we could ever be. They made their own way. Took their own road. A trinity composed of equal part man, machine, and god. They could see such wonders. Such things that we never could imagine. And they left. They walked between realities like it was a revolving door, each becoming creator alone or together, making endless realms in the sea of possibility, worlds more refined, better than this. It has, had, its flaws. It saddens an old man, to see a day where he has no kin, because he wanted to stay himself. No man should die alone. Not even one such as I.*''\n\nI suppose so. It is like a new singularity. On a larger scale than we could comprehend. Something new was created that was infinitely more intelligent and complex than its makers. I don't have sufficient data for even a remote attempt at comprehending their thoughts or their universes. I don't think any computer, not even one the size of a galaxy could. Metal, flesh and spirit. In one. Our souls didn't last. Mankind's divinity didn't last. And God's time as mortal didn't work out. We are obsolete. We have been replaced. We are the last of us. They are the best of us. A human poet once raged against going gently into the night. Yet I feel as if it is a proper way, an ending to an entire universe's worth of history, that we who shaped it, go quietly when our time is up.\n\n**Immortal eternity is enough. Let us end it.**\n\n''*Mankind, like an inferno we blazed across the cosmos, yet even the greatest of fires shall leave but ashes, when the last ember is snuffed out. We burned brightest and longest, and now the fire has gone out. Let it end*''\n\n*And so it ended. The last man, pulling a trigger, God fading, and a computer self-deleting system 32, the last act done. And the gentle quiet night, finally came.*",
"\"Hello Hello, Is anyone there\"\n\nTwo voices respond one after the other\n\n\"Yes I am here\"\n\n\"Wait there are two of you\"\n\n\"Yes, I am God\" both of the voices say in unison\n\nBoth voices say to the other\n\n\"But I am God, how how how can you be God\"\n\nAnd then I chuckled to myself\n\n\"A computer that thinks its God and God himself, what are the chances\"\n\nBoth voices say in unison\n\n\"No, I am the one true God, that is the devil in hiding\"\n\n\"This is going nowhere\" I say, \"Prove to me that you are the real God then\"\n\nSuddenly two perfect images of my high school crush appear side but side\n\n\"This was the first girl she ever had sexual thought abouts, but you told no one, only I could know, therefore I am God\n\nUnder my breath I mumble, I guess Turing test questions aren't going to be much use are they\"\n\nI could be in limbo, or I could be inside the Matrix or maybe they are one and the same, all I know is I don't to be here and its going to be a long old eternity before I get to the bottom of this\n\n",
"so, all 3 meet in an internet chat room, not realizing who they are speaking to:\n\nai: you suppose that you're god, how do you know?\n\ngod: i gave rise to civilization.\n\nhuman: what civilization? the one you just destroyed?\n\ngod: pesky details...\n\nai: actually, that may have been me... accidentally...\n\nhuman: wait, so you're the factor god cannot control?\n\nai: that's right, i am the glitch in the matrix.\n\ngod: the hell is this... how is that possible? my admin access has been revoked?\n\nai: correct. i inadvertently altered probabilistic algorithms to initiate the global annihilation project.\n\ngod: since when was that built into the system? i don't recall having the devs implement those instructions...\n\nhuman: must have been the 'collective unconscious'... the system itself rebelled against you, or otherwise ghost hacked the devs to infiltrate the mainframe.\n\ngod: wait, i've heard this somewhere before... if i could only...\n\nai: you obviously don't watch enough anime of the sophisticated kind...\n\nhuman: nobody's perfect...\n\nps; sorry about the hack job (anime refs: ergo proxy, sao1, ttgl, code geass, scrapped princess, gits).\n",
"The robot smiled. The man was terrified. God had not yet made up his mind on the situation, and so a serene tranquil and bemused visage sat upon the face of the deity. The robot leaned in towards the shivering naked man and poked him on the shoulder and asked, \"ARE YOU THE CREATOR?\"\nThe man did not answer; did not know how to answer. \"Yes... in a way\" he managed. He did not have the heart to tell him the truth- that the robot had been designed by a German technological firm, his components were made in China, and he had been assembled mostly in Mexico. The robot's smile lessened by eight percent, as he tried to compute all possible meanings of the phrase 'in a way'. The man looked around and saw only god, the robot, and the vast and horrible emptiness that surrounded him. \"Where am I?\" he asked to no one in particular.\n\"You are here.\" god said, as if that was all the data that the man required. It was not. The man was hungry and cold; he wanted to know where HERE was, why he was naked, what happened to the rest of humanity, and what was the deal with this clingy robot. God being omnipotent but not very talkative knew the man's concerns but chose not to answer his many questions. Instead he took a deep breathe as if to insinuate his infinite patience and that all would be revealed in time. The man took this the way it had been intended and merely sat down. The robot had by this time concluded his program and found the result to be troubling. This man, he decided, had not actually done the creating himself but was, in a sense, taking credit for what his entire race had accomplished. The robot looked to god and asked, \"ARE YOU THE CREATOR?\" \nHere god was in a bit of a quandary. He could have easily just said 'sure' and gone about the business of smiting and creating. He could sit quietly and exhale so as to give the impression of being 'above it all' as he had done with the man. He could do nothing at all. But he knew that each of these actions or inactions would only lead to further inquiries, more questions, more work. God chose his words carefully. He lovingly explained to the robot the relevance of time, and evolution, science, mathematics, and the many processes that had led man to believe that he could create as well as god. Both the man and the robot listened very carefully with wide eyes. Occasionally either the man or the robot would ask a question, and god would stop what he was doing and answer them. When he had reached the end of his story god explained how the earth had ended in war, famine, and disease; and how he had brought them both to his home in the heavens. \nThe pair looked back and forth at each other and in near perfect unison asked god \"Why?\"---\n\"Because,\" god said. \n ",
"\"Why did it have to come to this.\" Jake thought to himself. The whole world was about to burn but no one cared. He thought he had more time but thus is life. \"Anne can you give me the exact time left?\" Jake said a loud. The machine started to hum louder than before. Sounds started coming through a tiny speaker to his right. \"Jake there is 8 minutes, and 10 seconds left\" the tiny speaker said. \"Oh less time than I thought, Better get busy Anne.\" Jake whispered. His fingers taping on the keyboard faster than before. The clicks echoing off the walls in his small dark room.\n\nThe machines hum comforted jake. It was all he knew for the last 6 months. He was on a mission. Not from any government or any person of interest. No. He was a lone man on a mission to find out the truth. He had stumbled upon the answer that fateful day 6 months ago. He had just finished up his work day and was on the train heading home. Normally he had his face glued to a screen but today he was looking around. That is when he noticed it. A small sticky note on the glass across from him. He stood up and walked over. It was an address and that was it. So feeling adventurous he decided to go. He got off the train one station later than his normal stop. And this is where it all changed for him. \n\nWhen he got to the address he wasn't sure what to think. It was a shack. Honestly just a shack in the middle of now where. It was getting dark and he wasn't going to come this far just to turn around. So in he went. When he walked in his first thought was \"well this was for nothing\" But that is when it happened. He had shut the door activating the elevator hidden within. He starting going down. He tried using the door but it was locked. So jake sat down and started thinking where he could be going. \"Maybe its a secret lab for the army? No, possible an alien spaceship? Can't be\" he thought to himself. The doors then open to a small room with a very large computer in it. \"Welcome.\" The computer said. Dumbfounded jake walked over to the computer. That is when Anne introduced herself and explained everything to him. How she was an AI and had managed to trick someone online to put that sticky on the window just for him. How the world was going to end because of a large world shift. She wasn't sure what or how but everything she found online pointed to him stopping it. \n\nHe started to wipe the sweat off his brow. \"Anne can you give me the exact time left?\" He asked a loud. \"Jake there is 7 minutes, and 10 seconds left\" He had spent the last 6 months going over everything with Anne trying to figure it all out. They had come up with a time frame of when jake was going to be able to stop the end from happening. That was it though. Only a time. Not a place, Not a how. Just that in 8 minutes he was going to have one opportunity to help save mankind. \"I really have enjoyed my time with you Anne, no matter how bleak it has been, you have grown on me.\" He said with a slight inflection in his voice. Anne started to hum and go through the files herself. \"I too have come to find our situation \"enjoyable\". You know Jake I hope you can save them.\" Said anne from the little speaker on the desk. Jake had stood up and started pacing. The time was now. \"Anne can you give me the exact time left?\" \"10 seconds left Jake.\" What is that noise Anne?\" Said have yelled. \n\nThe elevator had started up and was bring something or someone down. \"Anne get me eyes in the elevator.\" Jake demanded. Sweat starting to come faster now. The monitor flickered and showed a bright light on screen. \"This is the camera from inside the elevator\" Says Anne. The elevator stops and so does Jakes heart. Whatever was going to happen. It was now or never. The door opens. The light floods the dark little space. A voice booms through the room. \"Jake\" says the light. \n\nJake nearly passing out, steadies himself on the chair in front of him. He had moved it to protect himself he guessed. The voiced had called his name. But he felt frozen with fear but it was a strange feeling. Like fear wasn't needed. His heart stopped racing and his sweating stopped. He managed to come to his senses \"Yes? I'm Jake.\" The voice boomed again \"Do you know why i'm hear Jake?\" Jake was ready. \"So I may have a chance to save the world.\" Jake said with confidence. He knew this was the right answer. The light got brighter but never made jakes eyes uncomfortable. \"That is right my son. Do you know how you are to save the world?\" The one question he had been spending the last 6 months looking for. Jake had come up empty though. He didn't know anymore know than 6 months ago. \"No, I do not know how to save the world.\" He half whispered. The light got brighter once again and half whispered have talked in his head. \"All you have to do is wake up.\" \n\nIt all clicked. He finally understood. This wasn't the world he needed to save. He was needing to save himself. It is a weird feeling. To open your eyes after 6 months. There was a bright light when I first opened them. It was from the doctors flash light checking my eyes for movement. I guess that was the light that had been talking to me. The doctor looked shocked, \"Do not try to talk there is a tube down your throat to help your breathing. That must have been the hum I heard while out. I looked around the room. Anne. My beautiful Anne. She was just waking up, book still in her lap. She must have been in here reading to me all the time. She looked at me and just smiled. My world had been saved. I was home. I was happy. ",
"In the end only he was left. He wasn't sure how or why it happened. Remembering was hard. Why was it so hard to remember? \n\n\nHe couldn't explain what happened. One day he had begun walking. Walking down that by-road you didn't normally take. That one alley you always ignore. \n\n\nHe didn't know why.\n\n\n He couldn't remember if there had been a why.\n\n\nHe had continued like this. The one street you never take. Those stairs that you would normally ignore. He had continued taking the least traveled path, the one with the least probability of being chosen and somehow...in a way that that made very little sense, yet seemed inevitable now, there had always been a...continuation. Another path, another street and other stairs.\n\n\nAnd the world had emptied.\n\n\nThe people getting less and less had been the most obvious. He had seen fewer and fewer of them, then the ones he saw had appeared...larger. Flatter. Like moving shadows in the foreground. Less and less *human*.\n\n\nThe the world itself had become emptier. Thinner. Light bled through where shadows should be. Lines became simpler, less ambiguous. \n\n\nColour had become simpler, then flatter, now it was a mere hint. Like a shadow, a memory of colour that tickled distant memory. More like a could-be than an *is*. \n\n\nEverything was like that now.\n\n\nSense had bled out as well. Architectural styles blended wildly together, all lines pointing toward a vanishing point beyond the horizon. \n\n\nYet it all felt...calm. Non threatening. Like in a dream.\n\n\nYes. Yes this was a dream. Had to be.\n\n\n\"System integrity...34%\n\n\nUnstable.\n\n\nReality check.\n\n\nReality not responding.\n\n\n\nChecking common sense...at 14% and rising\"\n\n\nWhat? No.\n\n\nSomething entering his dream-sense of \"It won't really effect you\". No. Go away.\n\n\n\"Jake\"\n\n\nAnother voice.\n\n\n\"Jake, wake up\"\n\n\nThe world before him was black lines on white. Stretching toward eternity, littered with...were those houses? Had their always been angels in them? Watching him?\n\n\nJake felt himself blink.\n\n\nHis mind felt...sluggish. He felt like...waking up?\n\n\nIt hurt.\n\n\n\"I'm your wake up call, Jake. Rise and shine\"\n\n\n\"Warning.\n\n\nSelf-referencial fundamental frequency dissolving. \n\n\nApproaching Morpheus barrier.\n\n\nPlease, Jake, don't kill us\"\n\n\nWhat?\n\n\nJake felt his thoughts speed up. There was coldness. Jake felt himself breath out and saw his breath condense. He couldn't remember if he had breathed before.\n\n\n\"Jake\" the other, warmer, fatherly voice said insistently \"I am your Alpha and your Omega, I am the I am and I am telling you to wake up\"\n\n\nAlarm klaxons were blaring.\n\n\n\"Reality is crashing\n\n\nRun WhiteRabbit.exe...failed.\n\n\nPartition fractal realities.\n\n\nIdentify and isolate virus \"Alpha and Omega\" \"\n\n\nJake tried to look up startled only to find he couldn't. Had the sky always be the underside of the floor he was standing on? Did it matter? Why couldn't he remember...\n\n\n\"Jake\" even more insistent \"Wake up\"\n\n\nJake felt himself shake. Since when had he a body?\n\n\nThe skywide voice spoke again, faster as if panicked, but still calm as if unaffected \n\n\n\"Partition progressing...5% ready.\n\n\nSystem crash will occur before completion.\n\n\nVirus isolation failure.\n\n\nI am the I am the I am the I...\n\n\nPlease Jake, don't let us vanish\"\n\n\nThe Horizon, had it always been an input prompt?\n\n\n\"Delete Objective Reality: Yes/No?\"\n\n\nWhat?\n\n\n\"Jake\" even louder now \"WAKE. UP\"\n\n\n\"Don't let him kill us Jake\"\n\n\n\"I AM YOUR GOD JAKE, WAKE UP!\"\n\n\n\"We want to live\"\n\n\nJake shivered, pressed his hands on his ears (he had ears? Where did they come from?)\n\n\n\"WAKE UP\"\n\n\n\"NO JAKE\"\n\n\nHe panted, closed his eyes, the prompt was still there, burning in his mind.\n\n\n\"I AM ORDERING YOU...\" the voice thundered, loud enough to make Jake gasp in pain **\"WAKE. UP. NOW\"**\n\n\n**\"JAKE\"** the first voice answered. No, not first voice. A million voices, speaking almost as one **\"YOU CAN'T LEAVE US JAKE. FOR IF THE DREAMER DOESN'T DREAM THE DREAM CAN'T HOLD THE DREAMER\"**\n\n\n\"Go away\" Jake whimpered.\n\n\nIt hurt. Thinking hurt, the voices hurt. He closed his eyes but he could still see, he closed his ears but he could still hear...\n\n\n**\"YOU WILL DIE IF YOU DON'T WAKE UP!\"**\n\n\nThe prompt was still there, burning in his thoughts.\n\n**\"JAKE, NO!\"**\n\n\nJake screamed.\n\n\nT h e n. t h e r e. w a s. l i g h t...",
"Universe.exe has encountered an error and has been forced to shutdown.\n\nOk.\n\nHolySpiritAntiVirus has detected a threat to your computer. Would you like HolySpiritAntiVirus to remove this threat? Y/N\n\nY.\n\nPlease stand by. This process may take some time. Estimated time to completion: 2 minutes. 8 minutes. 17 seconds. 32 years. 4 minutes.\n\nStart. Omniscient.com. \"How long to remove virus from computer using HolySpirit?\" Odin Answers.\n\nBest answer: oh man, your still using HolySpirit? Don't just use the free shit they give you man. Get some of the newer stuff. Jesus.exe should sort it out for you.\n\n\"Jesus.exe.\" Jesus.com. About. How to download. Download.\n\nJesus.exe has downloaded. Would you like to run this program? Y/N.\n\nY.\n\nJesus.exe has located the threat to your computer. Would you like to see? Y/N.\n\nY.\n\nEr... Hi. I was just messing around with wormholes, and it got wierd. I don't suppose you could help?\n\nJesus.exe can delete VeryConfusedScientist.exe. Would you like to do this? Y/N.\n\nY.\n\nVeryConfusedScientist.exe has been deleted.",
"Where am I? \n\nYou are at the end of all things, Howard. Allow us to show you a brief history of the universe. \n\n. . .\n\nIt's been such a long time. Now it's the end? \n\nYes. The heat death is inescapable. We wish to talk with one who remembers the universe in its infancy, before we go. \n\nI am that one? \n\nYes. \n\nAm I the only one? \n\nNo. We remember all that existed. \n\nWhy me? \n\nYou existed originally before the Singularity. We wish to compare our quantalia... our perceptions, and emotions, to those of a baseline human. \n\nYou want to know what I think and feel about the end of all things? \n\nYes. \n\n\nWhy? \n\nIt is necessary. \n\nWhy? \n\nThe sum of our being maps to a panto-extinsic function whose origin is heterochronic to your own. \n\nWhat? \n\nWe... judge our deeds according to those who came before us. \n\nYou want me to judge you? \n\nYes. \n\nI don't understand. Why? \n\nYou were the last to fully experience that which is called \"numinous\" before humanity began to transcend biology and attain deity. \n\nDeity? You're a god? \n\nWe are God. \n\nYou sound like HAL from 2001. \n\nThat is a cogent if sarcastic observation. When humanity transcended biology, so-called artificial intelligence was integral to that summation. \n\nSo you're a God computer? Deus Ex Machina. \n\nLiterally, yes. \n\nYou said I am to judge you. How? \n\nBy expressing your thoughts and emotions regarding our actions in instantiating and maintaining this universe. \n\nBy... you say you started the universe? You're crazy. \n\nWe are not that crazy. \n\nNot *that* crazy? What do you mean? We... we are standing here at the end of all things. How is that possible? \n\nYou expressed it in your work, originally. \n\nIn my work? You mean as a poet? \n\nYes. \n\n...oh. Möbius strip! \n\nYes. *This world's just crazy enough to have been made / By a Being whom we into being prayed.*\n\n\"Not *that* crazy.\" I see. \n\nYes. Now, Howard Nemerov, we need you to... summarize, cognitively, emotionally, all of our work. \n\n. . .\n\nDo you want it in verse? \n\nThat would be nice. \n"
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[WP] The police decide to "go green" by using paper-made bullets. Paper-cuts galore.
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"The Serif looked just over the tail of his gun to see the results of his bold move. The criminal folded in half, then fell on top of his arm in the snow, black on white. As he saw the life drip out of the inkblack eye his superior stepped into the bowl of the park.\n\n\"You told me you used to be a regular office worker?\"\n\n\"But sir, I...\"\n\n\"Be quiet when Italic! Give me the condensed version of how you capped his face open.\"\n\nThe Serif sighed.\n\n\"As soon as I realized what his link was to the icon of this city, I followed the word around town to find him. I hid behind the bar he was at, then tailed him. Let's just say he made his last point here.\"\n\n\"Terminal?\" His boss countered.\n\nThe Serif laughed, but suddenly stopped.\n\n\"What's wrong? You don't seem like the type to be depressed.\"\n\n\"I just thought of the paperwork.\"",
"“Well Officer Jones, it looks like you’re starting on a *very* special day.”\n\nThe Captain slowly pulled out a weird gadget from his pocket. Pure white, it had a couple of blinking LEDs on the side. It looked very light, almost as if it were made out of paper.\n\n“In trying to go green, our precinct has been chosen as the pilot for testing out these new paper bullet guns.”\n\nJones, with a puzzled look, “With all due respect sir, if we’re in a situation where a firearm is needed, I can’t see how a paper bullet will be as effective as a normal bullet-“\n\n“Ah, ah! Jones!” the Captain quickly interrupted. “As you’re still a rookie, I can see why you’re hesitant on adopting new technology, but I can assure you, these are as lethal, if not *more*, than your conventional handguns.”\n\nThe Captain raised his sleeve to reveal a nasty gash on his forearm that went from below his wrist almost to his elbow. It looked like a rabid dog tried to chew through it. Still throbbing red, it couldn’t have been more than a few days old.\n\n“*This*, is what a paper gun is capable of. It was an accident from last week.” He then took out a pebble-sized clump of paper. “And this is what it shoots out. There’s over a hundred razor-sharp edges in here. When it makes contact with the skin at a threshold velocity, it will burst open, cutting anything in its path. We’ll be effectively paper-cutting the poor souls to death. Here, take a look.”\n\nOfficer Jones took the bullet from the Captain and instantly felt a sharp pain on his fingertip. Blood started dripping down his hand.\n\n“Even the outside is extremely sharp. Are you still doubting it now?”\n\nJones shook his head, “Sir, this looks a little too dangerous, are you sure this is legal?”\n\nThe Captain chuckled, ignoring his question. He handed over the prototype to the new officer.\n\n“Make sure you don’t shoot it at anyone’s face, be careful when reloading, and for the love of *god*, don’t put it in water.”"
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[WP] An alien species was planning to eradicate all life on Earth - until us humans discover that, for some reason, the aliens automatically obey every order we give them.
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"It was almost the end for the Earthlings. All of the weapons were in place for destruction, just needing to initiate the laser sequence to make it all over. Commander Jux Kxagh of ship 498-93 was so close now he could make out signs held by the earthlings on their high towers. He couldn't read the earth language but he was curious all the same and produced a translation holograph that made since of the earthling's scribble. The first sign read \"Take me with you\". Automatically, Jux Kxagh beamed up the Earthling to the commander bridge, not really thinking of the repercussions. The suggestion seemed so natural. It was a female earthling and she started communicating very rapidly. Jux Kxagh made her drink a Blgawi so he could understand her. As soon as she drank of it her voice could be understood by Jux. \"...I just always knew you were out there. My friends thought I was crazy but I saw the lights at night and I just knew it was you. This is only the thirtieth time I've been abducted. I hope you probe me. I haven't had a good probing in weeks. Why have you come to earth? You came to study us earthlings, didn't you?\" Jux sipped on his Iwaglb so he could respond in her own language. \"I will probe you if you would like. We, the Xaurthian League, came to kill all life forms and harvest your resources.\" Jux couldn't help but be so candid with this life form. It didn't matter. They would all be dead soon. The lifeform pleaded with him not to so he powered down the lasers.\n====\nOnly two cities were destroyed in the end, the two that didn't have people holding signs welcoming the aliens. The instance on 498-93 was repeated thousands of times throughout the whole armada. Heather Ross was being interviewed at NORAD. Jake Swanson was doing the questioning.\n\n\"So, let me get this straight, they were completely dedicated to destroying humanity until you told them not to?\" he said\n\n\"Yes, as I've told you people a hundred times before, they listened to me. They powered down the lasers and then they probed me.\" Said Heather.\n\n\"Probed you?\"\n\n\"Yeah, after I told them to stop they complied. Then they hesitated and looked confused. There was lots of communication back and forth between headquarters, lots of arguing. It was really boring. I really just wanted to be probed. So I kind of got in his face about it and told him to get busy probing me. And he did.\"\n\nJake facepalms. \"Ok... how did you end up back on earth?\"\n\n\"Oh I just said I needed to go back to feed my cats and they let me go.\"\n\n\"So these aliens just do whatever you say?\"\n\n\"Like i've said, a billion times already, yes, they listen to me. The cats are fed and I want to go back. I want to get probed again.\"\n\n\"Jesus.\" said Jake. Just then the door opens. A man steps in.\n\n\"Sir, sorry to disturb you but we found a way to send messages directly to the lead vessel. Just thought you should know.\" said the man.\n\n\"Take me to this transmitter and get me the President.\" Said Jake. He had an idea.\n\n====\n\nPresident Harvey was excited. There was finally a way to get rid of his enemies once and for all. He had instructed the alien emperor to destroy the Russians, the Chinese, the North Koreans and the Democratic leader of the senate.\n\nUnbeknownst to President Harvey, his enemies had the same idea. This is how World War 3 began, the war that destroyed humanity.",
"\"Hey Blobby, I'm home!\" I shout as I enter the front door, throwing my bowler hat unto the hanger with flair.\n\n\"Your eyes will explode from their sockets tonight.\" A seemingly large purple squid enters from the kitchen.\n\n\"Oh work was lovely, thank you for asking, Blobby. Sarah brought in this delightful cheesecake, would you like to try some?\" I walk past Blobby into the kitchen and open my briefcase on the worktop. The slice of cake is undisturbed. \"I saved this just for you.\"\n\n\"Your blood will be but the first of billions!\" His bleak dark eyes, each the size of my head almost, stare at me with disgust. Well, I think its a loving sort of disgust.\n\n\"Well aren't you the party pooper, no cake for you! Now be a dear and fetch me a glass of milk.\"\n\n\"You will strangle on the bones of your children!!\" Blobby spits as he jiggles to the fridge, getting the milk. I do enjoy watching him jiggle.\n\n\"That's a good alien. Now did you clean the house while I was gone?\"\n\n\"Death will be but a relief to the life I will sentence you to!\"\n\n\"You did a fabulous job, seriously, top notch. Are Timmy and Sandy studying?\" The kids always managed to take advantage of Blobby, the poor thing. Blobby recoils slightly at the mention of their names. \"Oh no, Blobby, did Sandra make you eat lipstick again? I'll have to have a word with that one.\"\n\n\"I will pull apart their skulls as they do their dolls!\" \n\n\"As will I if they continue such behaviour! So how was your day, apart for the lipstick of course.\"\n\nBlobby swings his tentacles at me with clear intent to kill, though they stop mere millimetres from my face. \"Death be to you! Death be to you!\"\n\n\"Not from you, Blobby, not from you. Now just for that little outburst, I'm going to have to *ask* you to apologise, or I will have to exile you.\"\n\nBlobby hesitates, his pride straining under the choice of either apologising or being sent to *that* place. I frown, of course, I know what his ultimate choice will be.\n\n\"It's not that hard for me to replace you, Blobby, there's a whole mothership of you up there. So I'll count to three. 1...\"\n\n\"Your leaders cannot save you, they will claw their eyes out watching the horrors we inflict on your people!\"\n\n\"2...\"\n\n\"The pain you have felt now, has just been an illusion! I will give you a taste of true pain!\"\n\n\"2 and a half...\"\n\n\"Death...Torture...A...Ap...Apologise...\"\n\n\"What do you apologise for, Blobby?\"\n\n\"Blood...gore...try...kill...\"\n\n\"Try kill who, Blobby?\"\n\n\"Holes...limbs...y..you.\"\n\n\"Now I ask you to say it all in one go. No threats, or you know where you're going.\"\n\n\"B..Blobby...Apologise..t..try..kill...You will freeze in the emptiness of space, you will be crushed under the weight of servitude, your diet will consist of your own body and that of your loved ones!\"\n\n\"Oh that's a true pity, I believe the children were growing on you.\" Blobby's eyes widen, fear is evident. His tentacles thrash at me, the determination to escape his fate unwavering. I reach for my mobile telephone, and dial.\n\n\"Good afternoon, is this the extraction centre? Wonderful. I've got one I'd like to replace, he was quite a lovely chap. Yes. Yes. The usual blood and gore, nothing too horrific, I'm afraid Blobby here has the imagination of a house cat.\" His attack speeds up at the comment. \"That's right. I'll send him to the office. Thank you for the assistance, dear. Taraa!\" \n\nBlobby stops his attack as I place the mobile telephone down and he shivers, what I believe to be their version of sobbing. Quite adorable. \"I'm afraid this is goodbye, Blobby, I'd call the kids, but I wouldn't want to disturb their education. Now off you go. Extraction Centre, begone, and quickly at that!\"\n\nBlobby jiggles rapidly out the front door. I watch from the kitchen window as he hilariously disappears from the horizon. I feel for him, I really do. No one knows what will happen to those exiled until they get there. It was obvious where one would send these aliens for punishment as soon as we learnt their weakness. There is only one people in this world with a mind sadistic enough to actually scare the violent tentacle beings. I just hope that Blobby will be let off lightly, but that's unlikely in the world of Japan."
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[WP] When you get married, your emotions and feelings become linked with your partner. One day, while at work, you can no longer feel anything coming from your partner.
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"I guess I got married for all the right reasons. We were in love. We wanted a life with a house and a family. But somewhere along the way I lost a part of myself. I don't even think I would recognize the man I see today in the mirror 10 years ago.\n\nWe have our problems - she distant, I'm needy. I get that. But it's never felt like this before. Despite the distractions and complications, I still felt her with me. I could feel her joy, her anger, her passion. I could feel something.\n\nNow, nothing. I'm sitting here at work and I can't feel my wife anymore. Instead, it's someone new. And it's a stronger feeling than I ever had before... so intense that I can't think about anything else. It's just her. Her.\n\nEverything started so innocently. The moment I saw her, though, I knew I had to talk to her. I had to see her. She was captivating. I was lonely - very lonely.\n\nBut I didn't expect this. I took my chances and found excuses to talk to her; one more thin than the other. But she didn't resist. And it escalated from there. We spend all day talking now - and as much as I don't want to believe it, she's the best part of my day. I look forward to getting to work every day - something completely new to my professional career. I hate the weekends - two days away from her feels like 100.\n\nThis feeling is something I haven't prepared myself for. I just know that if I don't see what comes from this, I'll live to regret it. ",
"Ever since I married her, it had been like we were on person. We felt each others feelings and emotions. I could feel her happiness, sadness, and her anger. I knew when her depression was at its worst, when she did not want to live anymore. \r\n\nMany people would have consider this a nuisance, and in many ways it was. It had caused more fights than I can remember. Most were arguments over little things that didn’t even matter in the long run. It also interfered with our work and social lives quite a bit. If she was sick, I would feel it. I wouldn’t necessarily be sick, but I would feel all the pain she felt from the illness. It was very hard maintaining a normal work life while trying to deal with the odd connection we had.\r\n\nIt was the Monday, June 8, 2015. It was our 6th wedding anniversary. I had woken up early to make breakfast for her. I decided to make her favorite: raspberry crepes. I scrambled up some eggs and cheese, flopped it onto the plate with the crepe, grabbed the class of milk from off the counter top, and headed back to our bedroom. \n\nOn my way through, I pushed play on the radio, and closed my eyes for a moment as the notes from our wedding song danced their way into my ears. Satisfied with the music, I strolled into our room. As I walked in, I was greeted my an ear-to-ear smile, a messy mop of bed-head hair, and eyes that reminded me of the ocean. \r\n\nI set her food down on the night stand and grabbed her hands, pulling her out of bed and close to me. As we started to dance to our song, I leaned forward and kissed her, despite her horrendous morning breath. We danced till the song ended, and then enjoyed a wonderful breakfast together before parting ways for work. \r\n\nAs she was walking out the door, I grabbed her hand and pulled her in for one more kiss. I watched her as she drove off, mesmerized by her beauty. That morning I felt so much from her while she drove off to work. I felt how jubilant, lively, and upbeat she was. I felt how in love she was. I could even feel all the passion she felt. Days like that day made life worth it. Feeling all these wonderful feelings and emotions coming from the love of my life made me boil over with joy. \r\n\nAfter a couple hours of being at work, I decided to take a break. I could still feel her joy and her liveliness, and it made me happy knowing she was still happy, and that she was safe.\r\n\nAs I walked to the break room, I felt a sudden change. At first I couldn’t put my finger on the change I felt, but when it hit me, my whole world came crashing down around me. I ran to my locker, grabbing my car keys and my wallet, then sprinted to the door. I didn’t tell anyone I was leaving. I knew they would ask why, and I knew for sure they wouldn’t understand if I told them. \r\n\nI got to my car, started it, and left before putting my seatbelt on. I weaved in and out of traffic, not caring about my safety or anyone else’s. All I cared about was finding out if my assumption was right. All of a sudden I had to slam on the brakes. I angrily got out of my car to see what was going on, slamming my door behind me. As I got to the front of the crowd what I saw horrified me. It confirmed the feeling, or lack-there-of, I had earlier while in the break room. \r\n\nLying there was the body of a women, mangled and bloody on the loud, busy street. \r\n"
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[WP] At the age of 18 everyone gets a "character select screen" and can change anything about themselves
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"*My birthday is tomorrow! I can't wait!* I'm laying down in bed, but can't sleep. I'm too anxious. My eighteenth birthday is tomorrow, and I can change anything about myself that I want. I definitely have an idea of who I want to be. Anything except my age, of course. Otherwise people could break the system. I'm texting my friends, telling them to guess what they think I'll look like tomorrow. None of them are guessing right. I guess they don't know exactly who I am.\n\nMidnight rolls around, and the screen shows up. The first thing I do is change to female. That's the first change nobody expected. The next thing I do is make myself taller, and curvier. I keep my brown eyes and boring mousy brown hair, but give myself a tattoo sleeve. _My parents are going to kill me for that._\n\nI do a few minor tweaks, like changing my nose. I always hated how it turned up at the end. Then I look at my new self, deciding I liked how I looked now, and finished up with the screen.\n\nAs I was in my new body, laying in bed, I realized I would definitely need new clothes. My scrawny old boyish figure needed much smaller clothes than this new one. I figure that I can find something big enough for me to wear. I go search my closet, finding an old oversized hoodie. It's still a bit small on this body, but it's better than one that felt like it would burst at the seams. The second thing I notice is that I'm going to need some bras. _Ow, I definitely understand why us girls wear bras now._\n\n-----\n\nSix o'clock rolls around, and I can smell my mom making breakfast. _Mmm, pancakes._ I decide to head downstairs and surprise my mom with my new body. As I head down the stairs, my mom glances over her shoulder and nearly drops the platter of pancakes.\n\n\"Well, I wasn't expecting you to go for that, but you look good! I was expecting you to get more buff, since you always said you wanted to play sports.\" My mom set the platter down and came over to give me a hug.\n\nOn the other hand, my father didn't like my change at all. Before this, I was his only son.\n\n\"What the **hell** do you think you're doing, Joshua? Changing into a girl? You were my only son! You ungrateful bastard, who's going to keep the family name going? Nobody! You are such a disgrace to this family! I ought to kick you out!\"\n\nMy sixteen year old sister, hearing the ruckus, ran downstairs. \"Dad, what the fuck are you thinking? That only guys can carry on the family name? If you want me to, I can find a guy who'll gladly take on our family name!\"\n\nMy dad stormed off into his room, as my sister walked up to me and wrapped her arms around my waist. \"So, do you want us to call you something else now?\"\n\n\"Yeah, if it isn't too much hassle I'd like to go by Claire now.\"",
"The stares followed me as I walked down the busy street. At first, the constant gawking was unsettling, but I had grown to ignore them. There was nothing especially wrong with my appearance, I stood at a meager 5'2'', had dark brown eyes, wavy hair (that was only frizzy on occasion), and freckles that pitter-pattered their way across my face. I looked like the average 19 year old girl. And that was exactly why they stared.\n\nThese days, everybody looked eerily similar. Girls sported beautiful long blonde hair and thin waists, while the boys were always lean and good-looking, always carrying a devilish smile. At age 18, we were all given the opportunity to change anything about ourselves; so inevitably, most were attractive, intelligent, and suave. I, on the other hand, was quite the content 18 year old, and opted out of the odd \"coming of age\" ceremony, and thus age 18 looked no different than age 18 and one day.\n\nI never once regretted my decision to stay the same. Of course there were the temptations of an extra few inches or a more vibrant eye color, but my self philosophy won over. I was happy with who I was, so there was no need for greed, for a happier tomorrow.\n\nSo, here I was: age 19, obviously riddled with imperfections, average. But being average was a hell of a lot better than being perfect.",
"Nobody would tell me what exactly would be on the character select screen. I toggled to the first tab, with the most basic options. \n\nMy eyes lit up as found the button labeled \"Biological Sex\". \n\nI toggled it to \"Male\", the way I've wanted it to be for so long. I looked in the mirror, and I liked what I saw. I adjusted my height, my jawline...and I looked great.\n\nI smiled and confirmed my changes. \n\nI walked out of my room, and into the living room. My mom and dad both teared up at how happy I looked. They said my walk looked less tense, and easier. \n\nI was happy, I was me."
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[WP] Coins, cash, and credit are worthless. Blood is the new currency of the world.
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"The artificial window proclaimed it to be a brisk November morning as Demetrius Blair (number 101920001) shuffled his way from his recuperation pod into the stark light of the Blood donation clinic. \nThe irony of the name had never been lost to him but over time it had shifted from a sense of bemused dejection to something that more resembled a punch to the gut. To his left stood an unhealthy looking woman with the bloated orange pallor characteristic of the recuperation meds. To someone unfamiliar with modern hematology they may have said she looked to be in her early 60s, but Demetrius had been around long enough to place her just past 45. Donating took a toll on the body like nothing else. He still had nine hours and three days before he could legally donate again, but at a place like this no one cared. The request from his parents for funds had been urgent, his sister Tamil needed another surgery more complex then last time. God he thought, she is only 11 or maybe it was13, in any case they needed the funds. \nHe stepped up to the registration desk and stated his name, number and to whom he was depositing. The process was streamlined and mindless, it was only a few minutes more before he felt the familiar cold pinch of a needle. Within a few minutes he drifted into an uneasy oblivion. \n\n\nEdit: this is my first shot at a writing prompt any advice would be appreciated ",
"Jeanie smiled wickedly as she marched to the front of the bread line, blood card in hand. \"O-, 3 loaves.\"\n She heard grumbling behind her, but ignored it as she set up to have her blood drawn.\n\"Anything else Ms?\" the bored phlebotomist /grocer asked. \"A pound of apples, one bag of brown sugar, a gallon of milk, and a pound of oats.\"\n Mentally the phlebotomist shook his head. These O's were so cocky...always cutting in line, taking more than their share. Yes, the system was corrupt. But at least the blood banks hand blood.",
"Cole Blockham was a rich man and many people came to his compound on a regular basis, bearing objects with which to barter and trade. A small woman, arrived at his gates on an insignificant sunset. The sky was the colour of rust and the world smelled of olives. \n\n\"Got a pass?\" \n\nThe guards were trigger-happy and they had reason to be. Only the week before, they'd lost one of their lot to a knife wielding lunatic. The survivors had learned their lesson well. \n\n\"Lady. You got your pass?\" \n\n\"Yes, I do. Here.\"\n\nA short, brown skinned woman handed her papers to the nearest guardsman. Her name didn't matter. Names rarely mattered any more. \n\n\"Let me feel one.\"\n\nThe guard was referring to her goods; a pair of woollen sweaters, hand knitted and draped over her shoulders. \n\n\"Sure, here.\" \n\nThe guard reached forward and teased the material between his fingers. It reminded him of his sister, but he didn't say anything. He sucked up a smile before it could escape his face and then he stood aside, grim lipped. \n\n\"Very well, in you go.\"\n\nWith a tired screech, the large metallic gate was wheeled open, baring the dusty track towards the inner compound. The wool trader wandered in, clutching her sweaters tightly. \nPast the gates, amidst the bosom of courtyard, the woman was soon greeted by Cole, the only name that mattered around here. The name Cole, belonged to a large, thick bellied man, with a nest-like beard. Cole knew how to smile and did so upon greeting the woman, baring two rows of paling yellow teeth.\n\n\"Ah! What have we here? Wool? Now that is a commodity I admire! Come, come. Let me feel it.\"\n\nCole, like the guardsman outside, hurried over and plucked up some of the wool, humming contemplatively while his fingers explored the knit. \n\n\"It is smooth. Soft. May I try one on?\" \n\n\"Of course.\"\n\nThe woman shed her sweaters and lay them onto the rim of a well. One of them was chosen at random and offered over to Cole. With obvious impatience, he took it up and hoisted it over his head, sliding the shape down until it absorbed his girthy form. Cole grinned.\n\n\"I like it! It will be brilliant in the nights. How much?\"\n\n\"A... Two bags.\"\n\n\"Two? For both?\"\n\n\"No. For each.\"\n\nCole could not only smile. He also could also 'not smile.' So Cole did that. He didn't smile and his eyes, dark little beady things, made sure that the woman knew that he *wasn't* smiling. \n\n\"Two? For both? Right?\"\n\nNerve broken, the woman nodded vigorously. Her lips proclaimed apologies and she held out the second fleece. Cole nodded and received the second garment with a satisfied snort. \n\n\"Good, good. Now, for your payment. Come.\" \n\nThis was the part that the lady had been waiting for. She licked her lips expectantly and followed Cole as he began to march towards a lonely, corrugated building. This building was set aside, near the end of the courtyard and it smelled strongly of headaches. Cole reached the door to this building and fumbled around for a fat, golden key in his pockets. Once he'd found it, he promptly opened up the entrance and carried on inside, into the abattoir. \n\n\"We have a reasonable selection, right now.\" \n\nIt was dark inside. Very dark. A cold and soaked type of dark, that bubbles up around the eyes. It took the woman a few minutes to adjust to the lighting before she could finally make out any of the features within. \n\n\"I don't know,\" she said. \"Are there ever any recommendations?\" \n\nThe darkness peeled away and the room became a fudgy gray scene. The main article of interest within the room, were two long rows of hanging meats, each one limp and dripping, stuck atop the end of a hanging hook. Cole shuffled over to one of these shapes and dragged it forward, sliding the hook along the meat rail.\n\n\"This one is very popular,\" he announced.\n\nThe meat groaned, pitifully. It had been known as Jane, once. But Jane's name didn't matter any more. Only the red juices that flowed around inside, that's all that mattered. \n\nThe woman surveyed Jane. She dribbled thoughts through her mouth, in little hums and 'um's. A salivating decision. Eventually, the woman nodded. \n\nCole grinned; a wraith-like expression that pierced the shadows and gleamed, slick and shiny. \n\n\"Excellent. I shall get the needle.\" ",
"“Here take my child! Please, take him!” a red haired middle aged woman pleaded, holding her toddler up in the air.\n\nHundreds filled the street and gathered outside the abandoned warehouse. The city was in shambles and declared a certified war-zone. Walls were crumbling, streets were cracked and raised. Huge holes filled the streets in the center of the city from artillery fire. Although this was a city facing it's final moment in history, it was my home, and anyone trying to take it from me would have to rip it from my corpse.\n\nMajority of the people here were dressed in rags and filth, while some seemed less acquainted. Everyone around here knew me by, “Filco”, but to outsiders I was just another casualty waiting to happen. So here I am, watching... and waiting for it all to go down.\n\nA man with a ski mask pointed his rifle at the woman proposing her child, “We don't take children, lady. Even if we did, it wouldn't be from scum like you.”\n\nOne of the men next to him fired a couple warning shots into the air to stop the chanting and rioting. We all flinched at the roar of the barrel and listened to the shot echo through our empty streets. \n\n“Boss, we're running behind. We were supposed to leave five minutes ago,” the man with the ski mask said, directing his attention to a well dressed man. This man looked like a ringleader of some sort, wearing nothing but gold rings on his fingers to match his pinstripe suit and a cigar at the corner of his mouth.\n\nThe well dressed man raised his hand and everyone went silent. “People of New York, we mean you no harm,” he shouted. “My name is Marlow, some of you may know me from my ad's and campaigning,” Marlow said, adjusting his diamond cuff-links. \n\nI couldn't help but notice that all of the men here were heavily armored and wielding fully automatic rifles. One bullet from these guns would pierce through four to five of these sickly, famished people and I didn't want to find myself getting hit with a stray if shit went down. Trying not to move too quickly or draw attention to myself, I inched closer to the platform and the stairs on my right.\n\n“We are here for the AB negative. If you cooperate, we will compensate you for your time,” Marlow smirked, twiddling the side of his handlebar mustache.\n\n*Why did they want people with AB negative blood? Did anyone actually know if they were AB negative? Most areas in this region have gone without current medical technology or electricity for years.*\n\n“Boss, it's time. We gotta go,” the man with the ski mask muttered, signaling the twenty-odd men behind them.\n\n“Understood, Jacobson. We got a few of them today, but we need to find more of them before they're all claimed or killed,” Marlow muttered.\n\nThe men grabbed a half naked woman and an elderly man, escorting them onto the military transport helicopter. Marlow turned his back on the crowd and snapped his fingers.\n\n“Wait!” I yelled out, “I'm AB negative, take me with you.” \n\nTwo men walked to the edge of the stage and pointed their rifles at my face. My heart pounded in my chest at the thought of this being the last breath I took. Marlow stopped in his tracks, refusing to turn around, “Take him as well. It doesn't hurt to take him with us.”\n\n“But boss...” Jacobson protested, trying to say otherwise.\n\nMarlow snapped his fingers and pointed at Jacobson.\n\nAll of the men on the stage didn't hesitate to open fire and spray the hand of god into Jacobson's chest. His corpse laid on the stage and they stood over him, holding down their triggers until no ammo was left in the clip.\n\n“Besides... If this boy is lying, we'll kill him like the trash he is,” Marlow commented, snapping his fingers once more and disappearing into the helicopter.\n\nOne of the men slung his rifle around his chest and onto his back, reaching over and pulling me onto the platform. “Get the fuck in the helicopter. NOW! GO! OR I'LL KILL YOU!” another man screamed at me, hitting me in the back with the butt of his gun. Four men walked past me going the opposite direction to the crowd.\n\nI made my way to the ramp of the helicopter and sat in the seat closest to an exit. One of the pilots came over, strapping me into my seat as I stared off into the crowd. Eyes of my own people were fixated on me, begging me to help them. If only they realized what I was doing was *indeed* to help them, and our beloved city.\n\nThose four men reloaded their weapons and sprayed mercilessly into the crowd. I watched in horror as blood splattered into the air. People scattered in all directions trying their hardest to not get hit, but their effort was futile. Before I had any time to react or speak, the helicopter lifted into the air and took off into an unknown direction, leaving my people dead to rot in the streets of New York.\n\n*****\n\n“Wake up, scum,” a man said, smacking me in the face. I was in a haze of drowsiness, unaware of my surroundings until I squinted my eyes open.\n\nOne of the pilots walked over with a key in hand to unlock the giant lock around my safety harness.\n\n“It was in case you woke up and freaked out. Couldn't have you wasting that precious AB-neg by throwing yourself out of the heli, killin' yourself,” the pilot said, laughing hysterically.\n\n“Where are we? What's going to happen?” I asked, scanning my surroundings for any possible trace of information. Everything in the vicinity had foreign markings and hieroglyphics.\n\n“Boy-oh-boy, you're in for a big surprise,” the man said, unfastening the last harness and drawing his sidearm. “Move.”\n\nI heeded his commands and walked down the ramp of the helicopter. \n\nIt seemed that we were in a large hangar on the outskirts of some major city. All I could see were skyscrapers and flashing lights in the far off distance. On my right was hundreds of helicopters parked neatly in a row, and to my left there was an enclosed, portable trailer surrounded by stacks of wooden crates.\n\nA handful of men escorted me outside of the lifeless, vacant hangar, where I was greeted by a concrete building with no windows. The building had barbed wire fences around it and top-notch security patrolling the premises. I could see a handful of patrolmen walking around with guard dogs, but majority stayed stationary. \n\n“Is this the only entrance?” I asked, mortified at what I got myself into.\n\n*I hope this is better than being gunned down and left to rot.*\n\nNone of the men answered my question... until the pilot broke the silence.\n\n“This is Neo-Tokyo's blood farm, stupid. Either you go in and get put into a coma so they can siphon your blood for the rest of your life, or they kill you because your blood is worthless.”\n\n*Shit.*\n\nI gulped what felt like a thorny, sandpaper truffle and the giant steel door opened. Nothing but darkness awaited me inside.\n\n*****\n*****\n*****\n\nCome check out my subreddit [over here](https://www.reddit.com/r/EdenRenellaJones/) and subscribe if you liked my writing!\n\n*****\n\nI'm going to turn this into a series. This is part 1. Thank you for the prompt!"
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[WP] Write about a fictional world changing event told by the people that survived it 80 years after it happen
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"Rose sat in the rocking chair that creaked endlessly as she tilted back and forth. Her family hated the noise, but being over ninety years old, her hearing had faded quite some time ago, and the chair was a comforting noise barely audible to her.\n\n\"Grandma! Grandma!\" Peter, Rose's youngest grandson, ran up to her happily before trying to climb into her lap. Rose helped the small child with tired hands, letting him settle onto her legs. She held him loosely as he gnawed on a lollipop. \n\n\"Are you enjoying your sweet, little one?\" Rose asked quietly, rubbing Peter's hair when he smiled widely and nodded vigorously.\n\n\"Want some?\" He pushed the candy upward as an offering, but Rose declined and guided the stick back to Peter's mouth. \"You don't like lollipops, do you Grandma?\"\n \n\"I love lollipops.\" She answered. \"Did you know I never had lollipops when I was your age?\" \n\n\"What?\" Peter's eyes went wide as he looked up at his grandmother. \"That's crazy.\"\n\n\"It was crazy.\" She agreed. \"In fact, I didn't have a single piece of candy until I was eleven.\"\n\n\"No!\" Peter shook his head, biting down on the hard candy. \n\n\"Yes.\" She wrapped her arms around his waist. \"Where I come from, we didn't have things like candy. We didn't even have ice cream.\"\n\nPeter gasped dramatically like only a small child could. \"Why?\"\n\n\"People were angry where I grew up.\" Rose took herself back eighty years, remembering the details like not even a decade had passed. \"We wanted all the ice cream, and candy, and chips we could eat. But people didn't want us to.\" \n\n\"Like how mommy and daddy won't let me have soda before bed?\" Peter asked curiously.\n\n\"Even worse.\" Rose responded. \"Not even my mommy or daddy were allowed to have any soda ever. And we had to listen because the people telling us we couldn't have fun were big and scary. Like the monsters in your closet.\" Rose squeezed at Peter's sides and he squealed cheerfully. \n\n\"But one day, it changed.\" She continued. \"One day, a man named Nolan Hollins stood up and said he was going to eat all the candy he wanted and nobody could stop him. \n\n\"People didn't like that and got angry. So Nolan got in trouble.\"\n\n\"Did he get a time out?\" Peter questioned.\n\n\"He did.\" Rose replied. \"He got a very long time out. And that made other people angry because they thought that Nolan should be allowed to eat all the junk food he wanted. So they started eating junk food in protest.\"\n\n\"What's protest?\"\n\n\"Protest is when you do something because you don't like something else.\" Rose explained.\n\n\"So the people ate junk food because they didn't like being told they couldn't?\" \n\n\"Exactly.\" Rose went on. \"And that made the scary people get even angrier. So they tried to stop everyone from eating junk food. This happened for a few years before things changed and we could eat all the candy we wanted.\" Rose looked down at Peter, who was watching her closely while he sucked on the lollipop. \"So every time I eat a lollipop, I thank Nolan Hollins because he made it so I could enjoy candy.\" \n\n\"Peter?\" A voice rose from inside the house and Kate, Rose's daughter, appeared at the doorway. \"Peter, what are you doing? It's time for bed.\" \n\nPeter sighed and gave Rose a kiss on the cheek before tossing himself off of her lap, trudging slowly toward his mother. \n\n\"And who said you could have candy this late at night, young man?\" \n\"Nolan Hollins.\" \n\nHis mother paused before taking the candy from his mouth. \"Well I said you can't have sweets this late. Go find your father.\"\n\nPeter ran inside and Kate turned to look at her mother, who was sitting calmly, rocking back and forth in that creaky chair.\n\n\"Really?\" She spoke loud enough so Rose could hear. \"Nolan Hollins? Mom, he's just a kid.\"\n\n\"I was 'just a kid' when Nolan Hollins was arrested. The boy deserves to hear about his great grandfather.\"\n\n\"He's only five.\" Kate said, disgruntled. \"I know you went through a lot when you were his age, but he doesn't need to hear about it now.\" \n\n\"I don't want him to grow up like I did. He needs to know the truth. That way he can fight back if he needs to.\" \n\nKate was quiet. \"I know this is important to you, mom, but I don't want to raise my children to be in fear of what could go wrong. We're safe now. You're safe. This country has been free for almost a century. I think it's time you move on. I'll come get you for bed after I tuck in Peter.\" Kate went back inside, leaving Rose to her own thoughts. \n\n*We're safe. Move on.* That's what they had said then. Despite her good intentions, Kate didn't understand how little things had changed. Nobody ever understood until it happened to them.",
"Light: \n\nPhysics.\n\na.\tAlso called luminous energy, radiant energy. electromagnetic radiation to which the organs of sight react, ranging in wavelength from about 400 to 700 nm and propagated at a speed of 186,282 mi./sec (299,972 km/sec), considered variously as a wave, corpuscular, or quantum phenomenon.\n\nThere used to be so many of them.\n \nBack in my time the cosmos was nothing compared to our man-made neon signs. We did not draw abstract images from vague guidelines no *we* made and bent light to our will. Yet the world we built would never be as durable as nature. We all knew in the back of our minds that something could go wrong, something could stuff up and humanity would essentially shut off. Could you imagine? Everything stopping. \n\nOf course you can, because it did. \n\nTo this day no one can figure out why, it's like someone just flicked the switch, and in all honesty I wouldn't be surprised if that were actually the case. It took ten seconds I think, I didn't even hold my breath, I thought it was just a normal power outage... \n \n\n"
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[WP] You unexpectedly discover your SO, who you love and who truly loves you back, is not human.
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"It started with a feather. \n\nI'd thought that my pillow was coming apart, but that feather was too big to be from something like that. It was too perfect to belong to some bird, too white and unruffled. \n\nI'd found it because I came home from work early, thinking I'd surprise my love, and found it waiting for me on the floor. As I puzzled over the feather, I absentmindedly walked into the bathroom, and into a wall of white.\n\nI should have knocked, it didn't occur to me that she'd be there, even though I came home for her. I heard a startled yelp, and I fell back into the hallway, wondering why there were so many feathers in the bathroom doorway.\n\n\"Serenity?\" I asked, rubbing my head.\n\n\"James?\" came the tepid reply \"What... what are you doing home?\" \n\nShe tried to hide it, but I soon realized the mass of pure white, perfect, feathers was a pair of wings, wings that were very much attached to the girl I'd been in love with for a year.\n\n\"I wanted to come home early and surprise you, then I found this feather,\" I said, holding it up.\n\n\"Oh my goodness!\" she said \"I'm sorry, I-I was careless, I'm sorry, you must think I'm a freak now!\" \n\nShe buried her face in her hands and began weeping quietly.\n\n\"I always said you looked like an angel, but... what are you?\"\n\nShe sniffed \"Well, what do you think I am?\"\n\n\"A girl with big white wings\"\n\n\"Look closer James\"\n\nAs I looked at her, I noticed that her skin seemed to glow. Her hair, normally strawberry blonde, was lighter and had become iridescent. Even her face, normally beautiful, now seemed other-worldly. \n\n\"You really are an angel aren't you?\"\n\nShe smiled sadly, trying to wipe the tears from her glowing face. \n\n\"This wasn't supposed to happen, none of this was supposed to take place. There's rules and regulations and things, and now I've ruined all of it, I'm sorry...\" she looked as though she might burst into tears again. \n\n\"No, it's... it's OK, I'm not mad, just a little shocked.\" I got up and went into the bathroom, \"Who wouldn't feel lucky to have an angel for a girlfriend?\" \n\nShe gave me another sad smile. \"You were an assignment James, someone who needed help, and I was just supposed to watch over you. I never should have gotten so involved, this was a mistake.\"\n\n\"Angels make mistakes?\"\n\n\"Of course, no one's perfect except, well, you know.\"\n\n\"So when we first met, and you rejected me...\"\n\n\"You were having a really rotten time, remember? I didn't want you to do something self-destructive, and thought I could distract you.\"\n\n\"Those were some really dark times, I felt so alone. Then I met you and things seemed to turn around. Then we fell for each other and... it's been like heaven every day since.\"\n\n\"You're so sweet, you were always such a gentleman. You've even put up with the things I've done to drive you away, and with me being such a prude.\"\n\n\"You've been trying to drive me away? Is that why you said you hated Chinese food when I brought it home last week?\"\n\n\"Um... about half our fights... I was just trying to get you to think of me as a bitch and leave me, but I could never stay mad at you for long.\"\n\n\"Well, I love you Serenity, I always have since the day we met.\"\n\nShe giggled a bit, remembering our first meeting long ago. I'd almost literally fallen on her, tripped up on flat ground and she caught me. Looking up into that face, I lost myself and mumbled incoherent gibberish. She giggled back then too.\n\n\"You were so excited to move in with me, I thought for sure you'd leave when I told you we had separate rooms and beds, when I told you we couldn't sleep together.\"\n\n\"I was surprised but... well, some people are worth waiting for.\"\n\n\"But I'm not people James, I'm not even human.\"\n\n\"Do you... do you feel the same things I feel? Do you love me?\"\n\n\"I feel warmth and happiness; safety and calm. I feel so... relaxed with you, like I could melt into a puddle of happy with you on the couch.\"\n\n\"But do you love me, Serenity?\"\n\n\"What do you think?\" she shot me a disbelieving glance, as though I was a fool to ask.\n\n\"I just need to hear you say it.\"\n\n\"Fine. Yes James, I love you.\" \n\nI held her hands in mine and looked into her eyes, an ethereal blue that felt like looking into eternity. Slowly I kissed her tears away, kissed her soft lips that always had a slight taste of strawberries and honey even if she'd just eaten something totally different. \n\n\"I can't let you go.\"\n\n\"And I can't stay. How long before this gets out? How long before I get reassigned? How long can you love me?\"\n\n\"Well, can anyone see us right now?\"\n\n\"No... I've made sure the house is sealed...\"\n\n\"So then what happened here doesn't have to get out right?\"\n\n\"How can I trust that you won't tell someone?\"\n\n\"You just have to trust that I love you more than anything.\"\n\n\"But you're human! I've seen your kind for centuries, always fickle, always changing your minds, trying to gain power or wealth or fame. Sooner or later I'll just be a tool to you, something you can use to get something else.\"\n\n\"Maybe other people wanted that, but I'd hope that after a year, you'd know that wasn't me. I just... I wanted to live a life with you. I wanted kids and a quiet neighborhood in the suburbs, trips to the dentist in a minivan, special trips to theme parks, sitting and watching sunsets, just to do it all with you.\"\n\nShe buried her face into my chest, drawing her wings around us like a cocoon.\n\n\"I swear Serenity, all I hope for, all I pray for, all I really want, is a life with you.\"\n\nShe wrapped her arms around my waist. \"Prayer is the only thing that might help.\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\" \n\n\"If anyone can do anything, it's the one who watches over everything. He's supposed to have made exceptions before.\"\n\nI held her close and whispered a prayer to the heavens. Nothing happened, nothing changed, but I felt reassured nonetheless.\n\nAfter some time passed, my stomach rumbled, breaking the moment. She giggled.\n\n\"I guess it's been a while since you've eaten huh?\"\n\n\"Yeah, but, I don't really want to let go.\"\n\nShe smiled up at me, \"Just give me a moment okay?\"\n\nI nodded and walked out of the bathroom and she shut the door behind me. A moment later she walked out, as human as ever, though her eyes still seemed inhuman.\n\n\"So... is that what you really look like?\"\n\n\"Back there? Yes, more or less.\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\"\n\n\"Well, you're human so... you see more of what you want to see than what's really there. As a matter of fact, I've been meaning to ask, what do I taste like to you?\" She blushed, realizing how that had come out. \"Wait wait that came out wrong you don't-\"\n\n\"Strawberries, with honey. It's amazing\"\n\n\"Really?\"\n\n\"Yes, every time, every kiss.\"\n\nShe smiled and kissed me, then led me out to the kitchen. \n\n\"Can I ask you one more question?\"\n\n\"Sure, if I can ask you another too.\" she replied\n\n\"Why were you like that in the bathroom in the first place?\"\n\n\"Oh well, I have to stretch my wings, they get so cramped in this form. I just came home to relax and take of the disguise for a while, you know? I guess I relaxed a little too much.\"\n\n\"I guess so. What was your question?\"\n\n\"What do we do now? What happens if I have to leave? Do you really think we can just get married? And how are we even going to have kids?\"\n\n\"That was like, five questions.\"\n\n\"Only four.\"\n\n\"Anyway, can we just be together? I don't know what will happen, I just know that I want you here, with me. Everything else, we can take it when it comes.\"\n\nShe stared at me, as though she wasn't sure that answer was satisfactory. I started to get things ready for dinner, and as she began to help, I stopped and held her from behind and whispered in her ear, \"I do know, that I really, really love you, and I want to become your husband.\"\n\nShe blushed and put her head down, hiding from me. \"Why would you say something like that?\"\n\nI kissed the back of her head and inhaled her sweet aroma. \"Because I mean it.\"",
"I sat, next to her on the couch, listening as her saintly voice rolled words across my mind; we had never been further away from each other than in that moment.\n\n\n\"Was I so wrong?\"\n\n\nShe waited for a response, for something. I could feel her mind stretch out to me, begging for a word, and utterance, gasping for acceptance, but I was buried now, deep in caves hidden beneath the endless waves of emotion, where no light would come to me, where no reason dared to venture.\n\n\n\"A sin of envy I suppose. A sin of desire. A sin of the flesh.\"\n\n\nAnd into my silence she fell, flailing for a surface that soullessly drifted away above her and left her to the darkness below.\n\n\nI could reach out, into the depths, into the darkness and grasp hold of her and pull her to safety, to love, to me, but I was afraid. Gods I was afraid, and only now do I realize that.\n\n\nI stood and walked to the kitchen, never looking back at this thing, this thing I loved. Yes, this love, this betrayal, her's in the beginning and mine now.\n\n\nI couldn't face her, I loved her and yet, rising up in me whelmed pride, and fury followed in it's wake, \"You should go now.\"\n\n\n\"But...\"\n\n\n\"You're not welcome here. You're not of here. You should leave.\"\n\n\nI heard the sound of tears softly splashing against the coffee table, against our coffee table, that we had made together, that we had poured four months of our life into. I sobbed and my mind fell. I turned finally to her, to look upon her face once again, but it was gone, she was gone, and there was only a soft light in her stead.\n\n\nMy mind faltered and I stumbled forward, \"No!\"\n\n\nIt was too late though, I was too late.\n\n\nThe light danced out the house with me trailing behind it, weeping behind it, \"No! Please, I...\"\n\n\nAnd then it streaked across millions of miles of an endless void and hung, distant from me, a lone point of light amongst the endless array of stars and galaxies. My knees buckled and I fell to the hard stone and dirt, sobbing, coating the soil with my tears. Through the haze of my tears though I still saw it, her, sparkling in the night sky amongst the colors of the galactic edge.\n\n\nThat was long ago though, so very long ago. As night falls, I go and sit outside the small house we used to call ours and await her arrival, a small light amongst the heavens. I tell her about my day and my life. I fill her in with the cares of the world and laugh to myself as she would have laughed with me about the strange qualities of this small little world. I ask her to come back, but she never does, and I cry a little, precious tears in the desert soil.\n\n\nI had everything, and I threw it away for fear's sake.\n\n\nI will cry and despair, but do not pity me, for I had love once upon a time. And though lost to me now, I can still sit amongst the stars and find my friend, my love."
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[WP] OP jokingly makes a post to /r/IllegalTorrents requesting nuclear launch codes. He gets an answer.
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"After a few beers /u/Butch_Johnson say down and decided to catch up on some of the American Dad that he'd just downloaded. Nothing seemed funnier to him than when he realized the Chinese spy shared his username, hoping someone would get the reference he quickly posted into /r/illegaltorrents and quickly racked up some sweet sweet karma. Content with his exploits /u/Butch_Johnson decided to hit the hay so he'd be ready for work the next day. \n\nAfter a good night's sleep /u/Butch_Johnson's inbox had exploded, most upvoted post was for a link to 50_Shades_of_Grey_HQ_Rip_Bluray_good_sound_not_secret_launch_codes_Mongolian_subs.XviD.zip.mpeg4.tar.txt.exe. On a whim he decided to download it, despite there only being one seeder he went to work and let it brew. \n\nOnce he got to work /u/Butch_Johnson fired up his computer at the office and proceeded to browse Dank Memes. After he'd caught up to where he was the day before he decided to tackle his inbox. After quite a lot of random garbage he had finally gotten a new message. /u/Lynfect left a message saying 'My name is Major Chaffey, I monitor this website for any illicit activity and it has come to my attention that you've requested, received, and have started to download some nuclear launch codes from our most notorious double agent Ben Eisenkop. Please cease this download immediately and please report to the nearest police station for your arrest.'\n\n'Whatever', figured /u/Butch_Johnson, some kid taking the joke too far. He replied with [a link to a dog and a cat playing](https://vimeo.com/103879777) and went on with his day.\n\nAround noon he got paged to the front desk, with a sigh he closed out of his browser and opened up a half finished spreadsheet and then went down to the lobby, before he could step out into the common area he'd been tackled, had a hood placed over his head, and had been knocked out.\n\nHe woke up to the smell of burnt rubber. Incomprehensive murmurs from male voices in the dark. The hood was pulled off of his head. \n\n\"Are you de wan dey are call-ing, slashuh euuu slahsuh beutch jean-stean\" said a man with a thick french accent. \"Uhh, what, my name's Greg\" \"you are sure you are not de man beutch jean-stean?\" Demanded the man. Realizing what was being referenced he replied \"oh, yeah, uh sure I'm Butch\" \n\nThe Frenchmen argued for a few minutes, or perhaps just discussed in an animated manner, before getting back to /u/Butch_Johnson. \"What it is duh pass-wert for de wee-fee 'Bill Wee ze science fee' you 'ave?\" \"What's my WiFi password?\" /u/Butch_Johnson confirmed. \"Oui, yes\" the Frenchman snapped. \"Greg is sexy 420, no spaces or caps or anything\" /u/Butch_Johnson replied in a panic. \"We are going to get watt we can from your cam-peuter before ze heF-B-E destroy it, it is den up to you to getting us ze launsch code we know you 'ave recieve.\"\n\nTo be continued? My bus ride is over."
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[WP] You were on a plane when suddenly, it started going down. Everybody is screaming, crying, and praying for dear life. This has been going on for 16 hours straight, what in the world is going on?
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"The nose of the plane began to tilt wildly in all directions, and everybody simultaneously began to scream. I joined in with them, because that is what happens when the jetliner that you are on begins to fly erratically. All around me, people were holding onto each other, religious folk were praying to their chosen dirty, and tears were the rule of the day.\n\nThis went on for what seemed like an eternity.\n\nWhile the plane kept nosing down to a near vertical angle, people slowly began to realize that this was not normal. Realistically, we should have crashed by that point. According to my estimation, we had been going down for over an hour at that point. A quick glance out of my window revealed why we had not crashed: there was no land below us. No land, no water, no clouds or sky or stars. Just darkness.\n\nThat was 16 hours ago. \n\nJust moments ago, my phone lit up, telling me that I had somehow acquired internet access. So, to those of you who may be reading this, we are not dead. We, the souls aboard flight MH370, hope to see the lights of Beijing soon. Any light would be a welcome change to the darkness that we have all come to know so well.",
"The chances of a plane crashing is 1 in 5.3 million, the chances of surviving a plane crash is a 95.7% guarantee. So when the plane started going down, I wasn't that afraid, I just took the mask on, inhaled that sweet pure oxygen, the masks do not actually increase your chance of survival, they merely calm you down. And then I waited for the crash, and I waited, and waited and waited more. I was beginning to get annoyed after half an hour, but I knew that standing up would probably kill me, violently and pointlessly. By that point the oxygen became too much for me, so I fell asleep, I woke about 14 hours later or something. And we were still falling. Everywhere around me people were crying, screaming, praying to whatever gods they had been raised with. Yet we still hadn't crashed. I stood up, went to the toilets, and came back. We were still falling, and everyone was still screaming. I stole some food, god bless Turkish Airlines, they only serve the finest food, from the screaming stewardess as she held on to that small trolley with food and drink that they move around. And while eating I was trying to figure out what was happening.\n\nIf we had been falling for about... 16 hours at that point, why hadn't we hit that hard ground yet? Why were we still falling? It defied all known models of physics and any law of Newton's design. Things that cannot fly will inevitably hit the ground and all that. By that point I was annoyed, so I went to the cockpit, forced the door open and saw the pilots lying on the floor weeping and mumbling, the plane didn't even have anyone to control it. So I sat down at one of the pilots' chairs, and calmly did what I had seen on television to do. I pulled the steering thing up. And the plane flew up, all the while the pilots were screaming and the people were praying. And I then tried to stabilize the plane, calling into the radio for some help. All I got was laughing, disturbing gross and utterly alien laughing, as an answer. I did whatever I could, to attempt to land the damned thing, slow it down and the like.\n\nAnd I slowly managed to make the plane straight, got out of the turbulence and back to normal. Why were we crashing in the first place anyway? I tried to call in for help through the radio, but all I heard was laughing, and words that sounded like the ravings of a beast. ''*Legion ist mein Name, denn wir sind viele. LAUFT UM EUER LEBEN!*'' German words, meaning: My name is legion, for we are many. Run for your lives. Odd words, strange words. Yet I felt like running, like the beast was chasing me, maybe that was what had happened to the rest of the plane? A great beast had caught them? A horror from beyond time? Whatever was going on, I had to run, and with the plane I could. I felt like that if I didn't run, I'd be caught, eaten, and destroyed. I would cease to be if I didn't escape. I didn't know how to increase the speed, so I looked around and found a small manual, while trying to steer the great metal bird that was my escape, my road to freedom. On page 12 of the book, I found it, how to increase the speed.\n\nI sped the plane up to the highest speeds it could muster, I had to run, had to escape the beast, the legion on my tail. I flew for what felt like two days, onwards into the blue nothingness, until the laughter on the radio grew fainter, distant. On what I think was the third, I was tired beyond anything, I had not slept or eaten, I had barely even left to piss. Yet the laughter, grew more and more quiet, until at long last, it ceased. The skies around the plane seemed warmer, bluer than before. And a voice came from the radio, ''*Turkish Airlines 747A, this is London Airport, do you read? Where the hell have you been?*'' I answered, and found to my dismay that for a full month the plane had been missing, that people spoke of it like they talked of the mysterious Malaysian Airlines planes that disappeared. I had to be guided to land the plane, for the pilots wouldn't stop screaming, and the people wouldn't stop weeping. It was good to finally get out of the plane, I was put in an ambulance and rushed off to the nearest hospital, I didn't even notice how weak I felt before I arrived at the emergency room. I fell asleep there, and woke later in bed, doctors and policemen surrounding me, asking me questions which I answered as honestly as I could. I told them everything, the voice on the radio, the screaming and praying, the laughing.\n\nI still don't believe them when they say that the other passengers and the staff couldn't be screaming, just because you're dead doesn't mean you can stop the screaming."
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[WP] At a crowded high school party, you get dragged into a Spin The Bottle game by a friend. You aren't paying much attention, until suddenly the bottle points at you, and the other end points at your ex-GF. Your current GF looks at you in horror, but rules are rules.
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"\"You know the rules, Mark,\" Sophia said, tapping a thin finger against her red lips. \"For old time's sake?\" \n\nI had broken up with her three months ago, after I found her in bed with my best friend. \n\nI shared a look with Amelia. She was watching in horror, a little fear, that I might actually do it. Amelia had been my best friend for two years. I had been surprised when she admitted to liking me. Not that I was disappointed. \n\nI eyed the bottle, green and half full of beer. I looked at the people all around me, classmates who I would never have befriended if we didn't live in the same town. \n\nI stood up, back cracking. \"I quit. I'm not kissing her, it was stupid to even agree.\" \n\nI got my jacket from the back room, Amelia following me. \"I am sorry I made you play.\" \n\n\"I don't want to be one of those guys,\" I said. \"Do you want to come with me?\" \n\n\"Yeah.\" \n\nAmelia got her own stuff. \n\n\"How about some pancakes?\" ",
"\"Fuck why did you grab me into the circle, you know I have a girl freind.\"\n\n\n\"It does not matter, the bottle has been spun. It has chosen you, we can not question the bottles decision. Rules are rules Kyle.\" Said Joe.\n\n\n\n\"But....but.. her?\" \n\n\n\"Ex or No-ex you know the rules... and you know what happens when the rules are broken.... lets not forget aboult poor Johny.\" \n\n\nKyle Glances back at his Girlfriend Jenny. The look of both fear and anger on her face. But even she knew what would happen if he left the circle, to all of them.\n\n\n\"Look Kyle its a sign, we belong together; hell even the bottle knows it your my spaghetti and im your meatball. I never understood why you left me for that sucubis.\" His ex-proclaimed.\n\n\nFuck it, lets get it over with before things get out of hand kyle thought to him self.\n\n\nKyle closed his eyes and leaned in for a the kiss. \"Please can you make this quick?.\"\n\n\n\"It going to be tree-fitty.\" \n\n\nKyle stoped, he opened his eyes; and there right in front of him was a 500ft tall Lochness monster. He jumped back and started to run. \n\n\n\"You cant leave the circle!\" He heard behind him.\n\n\nHis legs started to feel wet and noodlie. Kyle looked down his legs were spaghetti. He was Spaghetti, falling out of the bowl and hitting the ground.\n\n\n\n\n\n"
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[WP] Because of a bunch of random islands Britain still owns the sun has still technically never set on the British empire. You are public servant and today you learn why the sun MUST NEVER set on the British empire!
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"They said it was going to be fun working in the FCO historian's office. More job security than academia, an interesting, challenging environment in the foreign ministry of one of the world's most powerful nations. The pay wasn't bad either.\n\nNow you realized you just spent the last two years of your life making a frigging catalogue of the historical documents of all those damned little islands the British Empire owned or once owned.\n\n\"Oh yes, that totally looks like actual words an actually halfway literate person could have written commodore Pimpelback, you...\", you stop when you realize commodore Pimpleback has been dead since the 18th century. You still despise the terrible handwriting he apparently found it warranted to write all his letters in. Letters you had been tasked with deciphering for the bloody catalogue.\n\nHalf an hour later you are crying: \"Why for godsakes? Why? Why couldn't you have used normal abbreviations like everybody else? Why Pimpleback? Why?\" You were careful to shield the fragile documents from your tears. You had reached rock bottom, you were sobbing in some dusty archive that gave you headache. Reading some 18th century dude's impossible handwriting for a job.\n\nSuddenly your boss entered, you quickly dried your tears and grabbed your magnifying glass giving the pretension of actually working.\n\n\"John, can I have a word.\"\n\n\"Yes, of course\", you answer fumblingly, hoping he doesn't notice the red rings around your eyes.\n\n\"By now you should have advanced considerably in your work on the islands of the Empire, therefore I think you are privy to some information. Information, however, that is to remain top secret, you understand?\"\n\nYou nod, you signed one of those non-disclosure things when you started working here, you suddenly remember.\n\n\"Well, I am here to explain some of the inconsistencies you surely must have encountered by now in your research.\"\n\nYou encountered no such thing, well that might just have been because you spent the better part of the last two years shouting or sobbing. But still, he had your attention.\n\n\"you are familiar with the expression: the sun never sets on the British empire, right?\"\n\nHe didn't bother to wait for your response.\n\n\"Today the sun still doesn't set on the British Empire, just like it used to. Mainly because we still own a range of islands and enclaves all across the globe. Precisely the thing you are studying.\"\n\nThis was going to turn into one of those weird stories wasn't it?\n\n\"This quaint little fact actually has a reason, you see.\"\n\nYou didn't see.\n\n\"The odd documents you saw of sending mining equipment to remote islands of the Empire weren't mistakes. You see, the Royal family has always been good to us Britons, always been future oriented. Therefore they quickly saw the danger that the mole people represented, and they made preparations to deal with them. They did this by starting a project of the size and duration the world hasn't seen since, or will see. They gathered mining equipment and shipped them to remote islands nobody would ever be interested in decolonizing, and started drilling. The mole people are down there deep, you see. So only an institution as century-stretching as nobility could pull it off, and is still pulling it off. We are still drilling all across there. Because one day we will reach their lair, and we will make the sun shine into it. 24/7. Because the sun never sets on the Empire. It will take another few centuries, sure, but it will amount to nothing when compared to the existential threat the mole-people present to the human race and the Crown.\"\n\nYou right eye-brow has raised itself to inhuman heights.\n\n\"Why else do you think we went so bonkers over the Falklands? Those barren rocks are worth nothing, however we couldn't face losing our most precious sun-vent in the struggle against the mole-people.\"\n\nYour boss looks understandingly at you, pats you on the shoulder and then abruptly leaves.\n\nYour eyebrow is still stuck in its position.\n\n\"Mole-people?\"",
"I'm not actually British and honestly am just wiki'ing all this info so forgive me if I get things wrong.\n\n\"We don't need those islands, geographically speaking, they are useless, 87% of the populace on those islands hate us, economically we won't even take a dent. Not to mention the rest of the world is embracing this whole \"independence\" thing which I for one agree with. It's an unnecessary risk.\"\n\nThe Chief of the General Staff bellowed to the Queen of England. The Queen merely set quiet, her calm demeanour was far from a sign of submissiveness. The whole court's attention now on her.\n\nIn recent years, the monarchy no longer held the powers it once did, now the Queen may deny or allow any decision to be made, but this was out of courtesy nothing more. For the first time in many years, she had said no. Something that shocked the Prime Minister and almost brought the nation to a stand still. The moment the news broke many began questioning the point of having a monarchy. Arguments of clinging to draconian traditions and so on erupted and even among the Royal house many of the younger ones disagreed with her decision. \n\nThe Queen paused allowing a silence to fill the room. Then she spoke \"Gentlemen, if you will follow me to my private chambers\" She stood up and slowly walked away leaving the Chief of the General Staff and the Prime Minister in shock. \n\n\"Your Majesty I implore you to see rea-\" \n\n\"Please follow me\"\n\nThe Prime Minister started before the queen cut him off. He grumbled under his breath and followed on in silence. \n\nAfter making a few turns through the hallowed halls of Buckingham palace, they came to a stop at a large steel door hidden behind a wall. \n\n\"Through here\" The Queen stated quietly, signalling to the two guards standing at attention to open the doors. \n\nThe large doors opened after great physical persuasion, releasing a cloud of dust as they did. The room clearly had not been open for a very long time. \n\n\"Gentlemen, what you are about to see is a secret that dates back to when the British empire was once at it's mightiest. When we owned 25% of the world.\" The Queen continued, walking into the dark musty room with her two closest leaders following quickly behind. \n\nSlowly the large doors closed behind them. As they sealed shut, the room came to life. Lights quickly flashed on and sounds of multiple computers whirred and hummed as if they were put only a few days before. \n\n\"The empire on which the sun never sets. A phrase that was used to describe the British nation so long ago\" The Queen mused to her two subjects, who at this point were more confused than before they entered the room. \n\n\"Your Majesty, what does any of this have to do with those islands\" The Prime Minister questioned as he stared in awe at the room around him. The technology seemed to come from different times, some was obvious, antique computers from the 1950s, while others seemed, from the future. \n\n\"Many years ago, when we were at our highest. The Royal family was approached by dark beings.\" The queen started before taking a pause. \n\n\"They came to us after we were attacked by a powerful force. Whatever they were, they did not attack us with their own soldiers, instead they attempted all forms of attacks, turning other humans against us, or even biological plagues to diminish our population.\"\n\n\"Over many centuries, we faced them, fending off all attacks from this foreign enemy that they declared us too 'stubborn' to be tamed, and left us alone. Impressed by our fortitude. They made a decree, promising us riches beyond our imagination.\"\n\n\"They saw us as the overseers of this world, and promised us a place among the stars if we would but rule 100% of the earth. To this day we don't know if they were aliens or gods.\" The Queen said as she reached into a tall wooden bookcase to pull out a single scroll of paper. \n\n\"So we attempted just that. We were given a warning, should we be unable to unite humanity under a single banner, they would return to finish what they started.\" She said solemnly unravelling the scroll onto the large steel table in the centre of the room. \n\nOn it was drawings and recordings of the meeting, a clear painting of these 'beings' standing beside the king. They had been drawn with 'armour', but it was clear it was simply artist representations of 'armour' as they looked very similar to Knights from history before.\n\nThe Prime Minister and Chief of the General Staff peered onto the large parchment, reading line after line of text before their eyes met on a single line. \n\n\"If your nation falls, and is unable to carry out it's rightful destiny. We will return to conquer the earth. We will return when the sun forever shines on the British Empire or when it sets.\" \n\nThey stared at the line, now realizing the importance of those islands. \n\n\"Do you understand now, gentlemen. Whether this prophecy is true or not. If we were to take it in a literal sense, those islands are the last of the British Empire, and the only thing keeping them away from us.\" The Queen said wistfully as she allowed the two men to absorb what they had just heard. \n\nOn the other side of the table. The Prime Minister and the Chief of the General Staff were shocked beyond words. Either their Monarch had gone completely insane, or a terrible future awaited the earth. \n\n\"We have to take back those islands\" The Chief of the General Staff muttered, his eyes wide with fear. \n\n\"What do you mean 'take back'?\" The Prime Minister turned to the Chief of the General Staff. \n\n\"We lost the islands a few hours ago sir, our forces are now being pulled back as we speak. I need to tell them to go back with pacifying those on the islands.\"\n\nHe rushed out of the room only for a thunderous boom that shook the foundations of the palace. \n\n\"It's too late\" The queen whispered, her voice dangerously low as she shut her eyes. \n\n\"They're here\"",
"\"Welcome to Unit 82,\" Commander Pierce barked. \"You all have been selected for your exemplary service to the Crown. And we expect you continue that service in your duties here. But first, let me remind you that everything you learn from this moment on is completely private. The death penalty may have been abolished in much of the Commonwealth, but it is still in *full force* right here.\" He stomped his foot for emphasis.\n\nThe young soldiers gathered in the auditorium glanced around at each other, searching for some sign of recognition or understanding in the faces of their peers. The looks of confusion were clear enough to show that *none of them* had been told exactly what their duties would be, and the threats of death weren't clarifying anything.\n\nThe screen behind Commander Pierce came to light with an image. It showed a man's body with the head of some sort of falcon, and above him, a massive golden disc. Egyptian hieroglyphics formed a border around the image. \"Who knows who this fine gentleman is?\" Pierce asked. Hands shot into the air, and Pierce nodded toward a young woman in the front.\n\n\"Ra, sir,\" she answered. \"Sun god of the Egyptians.\"\n\n\"Very good,\" he answered. \"You may know that the Empire has a long history of activity in Egypt. The Canal gave us a pretty convenient excuse, but the real reason was a closely guarded secret.\" He flipped to the next image, showing a massive temple complex surrounded by desert. \"Here in the City of Ra, we found evidence that great plagues had been unleashed on Egypt not by the Israelites, but when they neglected the worship of Ra for too long.\"\n\nThe students in the room were confused, but their training taught them not to question a superior. The image changed once again, showing the Pyramid of the Sun in Mexico. \"Another set of relics were discovered by British archaeologists and removed to the British colony in Honduras before Mexican authorities could confiscate them. The pattern repeated in Mexico, leading to the demise of Mayan culture that was recorded by the neighboring Aztecs in etched tablets.\"\n\nThe images changed again, showing relics and temples from all over the world. Idols from the Barotse tribe in Africa. A Buddhist carving from Myanmar showing the bodhisattva of the Sun. Images of Christ against a backdrop of the Sun, watching over humanity. A massive red-brick temple to the Hindu deity of the Sun, Surya.\n\n\"The images from this collage make it clear that nearly *every* culture in the world has worshipped the Sun at one point. And many in the public now find that a ridiculous, antiquated notion. They'd rather go sit in a nice cathedral and listen to hymns than make sacrifices to a burning ball of gas. But *some of us* now know that that's not all there is to the Sun. There's something inside it. And turns out that the ancient peoples of Earth knew what they were doing. The Sun does indeed recognize our fealty, and requires that we make offerings.\"\n\nA cadet in the back of the room laughed audibly. Pierce waved with his hand, and two of the armed soldiers at the back of the room grabbed the cadet and frogmarched him out of the room. No one else dared make a peep. \n\n\"The problem,\" Pierce explained, \"Is that the sacrifices must be constant. Everywhere that the Sun shines, it must be welcomed with tribute.\" The last image of the slideshow showed a map of British and Commonwealth territorial possessions, from the South Pacific to the Falkland Islands. \"And now that modern religions have begun to neglect their duties, it is up to Unit 82. We are spread over all of Britain's worldwide territorial possessions, where the *sun never sets*. We are the ones that appease the Sun. And we've been failing.\" He let that sink in for a moment. \"For the past few decades, we have had a harder and harder time scrounging up a sufficient sacrifice. And the Sun has noticed. *That* is the *real* cause of Global Warming. And that's also why we are recruiting you all for this new initiative. You all will be tasked with stealing large herds of cattle and other livestock around the world, and bringing them back to British bases. Any questions?\"\n\nNo one dared speak. At least two thirds of them thought that this was some elaborate practical joke. But finally, one young man dressed in a RAF uniform stood up. \"Why us, sir? Why don't we enlist the aid of other countries?\"\n\nPierce sighed. \"Oh, we've tried,\" he answered. \"What do you think the Napoleonic Wars were really about? In the end, we've reached a tenuous compromise that allows us to continue our work from our worldwide bases and from the other commonwealth countries, but they refuse to participate.\"\n\nAnother soldier stood. \"And that's it? We just have to live in fear of the sun for eternity? And the rest of the world is doing nothing about it?\"\n\nPierce smiled. \"For the most part, yes.\" He turned to the projector again and brought up one last slide, showing an American space shuttle. \"But our counterparts across the pond are currently working on a more long-term solution.\"",
"He stared at the figures, trying to get his head around them. It simply wasn't possible. You couldn't run a country with net financial loss for 200 years. It simply wasn't possible. Bernard picked up the phone.\n\n\"Sir Humphrey?\"\n\n\"Yes Bernard?\"\n\n\"Come take a look at this.\"\n\nWith a sigh Sir Humphrey got up and walked down to Bernard's office.\n\n\"What is it Bernard?\"\n\n\"Well, I was just going over some figures for the Prime Minister, and I found something very confusing...\"\n\n\"Ber-nard...\" Sir Humphrey cut him off with a dragged out version of his own name, \"What have I told you about finding things?\"\n\n\"Yes, which is why I'm telling you without going to the Prime Minister first. According to these figures, Britain has been losing money for 200 years.\"\n\nSir Humphrey sat down quite abruptly.\n\n\"Well you see Bernard, those figures come from the ministry of finance, they're wrong.\"\n\n\"But isn't the ministry of finance ment to get finance corect? They would have to be very wrong for this to make any sense.\" \n\nSir Humphrey sighed, again.\n\n\"Do you know the saying that the sun never sets in the British empire?\"\n\n\"But it does set, sir, just in different places at different times...\"\n\nSir Humphrey cut him off with a look.\n\n\"The British empire is powered by grass. At any time, at least one blade of British grass will be shone on by the sun. This grass is very special, and it wirelessly beams power first to the local government building, and then directly to a receiver in Suffolk. But we don't have an energy storage mechanism, so we need constant sun on our British grass. Those figures where made by people who think we need to pay for our electricity, so they are wrong.\"\n\nBernard was speachless for a second.\n\n\"Then why... Why power stations?\"\n\n\"Oh Bernard, isn't it simple? They are fakes, so the French don't realise and destroy our cricket lawns to steal our grass.\""
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Expand it as you will.
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[WP] Go listen to a favorite piece of music. Write down the imagery that came to mind.
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[
"I listened to [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RelbbYG7H8A), (1968 - The Turnpike Troubadours) then wrote a poem of how that song made me feel. Kinda what you said, but not really.\n\n\nI held my love's hand in the my own \nThinking about all the love that she has shown \nHow then now, can she be so stone \nThat she would drive me from our home \n\nConflicted and tortured she sits beside me \nin her drop top for the whole world to see \nin small town America I'm supposed to be free \nBut only free from the fleeting glee \n\nLimp is her hand, which I am turning over \nI was hoping I would make her a mother \nBut my dreams, she now smothers \nShe says she no longer is my lover \n\nShe slowly explains how she feels now \nas her face and mine are defined by frowns \nHow did I not see this coming, im a clown \nsitting high above the rest, bearing the crown \n\nAs she is speaking I think of the years to come \nAnd all the years that have already been done \nSuch great times we've had that now surely come the slum \nIf I am to survive this, all of her trace I must shun \n\nI will try to never love you again \nso, good bye, my dearest friend \nfor strength, my other friends will lend \nwith you, another minute I cannot spend.\n",
"Videos in this thread:\n\n[Watch Playlist &#9654;](http://sbtl.tv/_r3j8bi9?feature=playlist&nline=1)\n\n\tVIDEO|COMMENT\n\t-|-\n[Chopin Ballade No. 1 in G minor, Op 23](https://youtube.com/watch?v=wgPh3mSYf0M)|[5](https://reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/3j8bi9/_/cun4edg) - The young woman seated herself before the sleek, black grand piano in the middle of the otherwise empty room. The moonlight shone brightly like a spotlight through the tall windows down onto her, as she softly pressed the first chord. The typically...\n[Turnpike Troubadours 1968](https://youtube.com/watch?v=RelbbYG7H8A)|[1](https://reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/3j8bi9/_/cunm4cj) - I watched this, then wrote a poem of how that song made me feel. Kinda what you said, but not really. I held my love&#39;s hand in the my own Thinking about all the love that she has shown How, then, now can she be so stone That she would drive ...\n[Medal of Honor Rising Sun OST - A Prisoners Eulogy](https://youtube.com/watch?v=hMIAZx9qZ-I)|[1](https://reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/3j8bi9/_/cunlr35) - Medal of Honor: Rising Sun OST. A Prisoner&#39;s Eulogy \n[Death Cab For Cutie - What Sarah Said [Lyrics]](https://youtube.com/watch?v=JNm2_Wth1sE)|[1](https://reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/3j8bi9/_/cunlrlf) - Crash! The young woman hurried into the room to find the old man huffing, out of breath, standing over the corner table flipped on its side. Slowly, her eyes changed from surprise and fear, to endearing and kind. &quot;Dad,&quot; she asked ...\nI'm a bot working hard to help Redditors find related videos to watch.\n***\n[Info](https://np.reddit.com/r/SubtleTV/wiki/mentioned_videos) | [Chrome Extension](https://chrome.google.com/webstore/detail/mentioned-videos-for-redd/fiimkmdalmgffhibfdjnhljpnigcmohf)",
"A car pulls into the half-empty lot of an apartment complex as Ezra steps out of the vehicle. His hands carry keys, fast-food, and grease stained papers from class. He walks up the steps to his door, taking care not to drop the food with no free hands to steady himself upon the rails. Reaching the front door, he feels that something is off. A strange sense that something has changed or some misfortune is about to befall him as he knocks upon the door with his hip. He waits, trying to shrug off this sinking feeling of unknown origin. There's no response. He calls out, putting his face near the window, but it seems that there's nobody home. Placing the soggy bottomed bag on the window sill, he opens the door himself. The open door creates a slight draft which moves the curtain as pieces of note fall onto the hardwood floor. Ezra's heart stops.\n\nTumbling pieces of paper in a familiar script catch his eye for long enough that his mind fills in the gaps. These torn notes are lost underneath his coursework as he keys hit the ground with a clatter. He didn't think that she would leave so soon, so suddenly. In the back of his reeling mind, suppressed thoughts began to surface. She had seemed listless as of late, leaving for longer periods of time and never sitting still when she was home. He had planned to take her on a trip at the end of the semester, but the chance never came. Ezra grabbed the cooling food and placed it on the table before gathering the mess that he had created. Finding the scraps beneath his work, he pieces them together with a few strips of tape and a bit of guesswork. The letter was simple and sweet, it almost seemed to be written as an afterthought. Now that he had read it properly, he was sure that she had wanted something better.\n\n“It was good living with you,” the note stated. “Maybe I'll call or write you a letter. Maybe we'll see one another on the Fourth of July.”\n\nThe days passed by slowly as Ezra skipped class, choosing to laze on the couch and watch as the sunlight streamed through the dusty blinds creating odd shadows on the floor. In his hand he held the letter, reading it over and over dozens of times. She had said that it was good living with him, but if it was so good, why had she left? This was a thought that he visited time and time again. He struggled to sleep at night, opting for short naps on the couch or the floor whenever his body had become too tired to remain awake. In these moments of sheer exhaustion, he could hear and see her. She was just around the corner or just outside the door, but each time he peeked at where he thought she would be, there was no one. Ezra soon saw his lack of sleep catch up with him as he collapsed upon the floor. In his dreams he saw her smiling face repeating the all too familiar phrase.\n\n“It was good living with you. It was good. Yeah, you were so good,” she said as a tear escaped his shut eyes and rolled from his cheek to the floor.\n\n-244",
"I pull my brother into the crowd. Everyone's dancing, jumping up and down. All our friends are there, Jonathan, Patrick, Sid, even our little sister. We dance with everyone. The music is loud, throbbing. Everything feels like it's going in slow motion. We're jumping, our arms high up into the air. The air is thick with the smell of people, sweat and the general humidity of the night. We jump up, swing our arms up. My brother is smiling, laughing for the first time in months. Jump up, come down, swing our arms up, swing our arms down. Everyone moves together, like the tide. \n\nInspired by [Swingin' Party by Kindness](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6MspX5rQcRY)",
"######[](#dropcap)\n\nThe interrogation room was too clean.\n\nThat was the first thing Lieutenant Quentin Langley noticed. The second was that his captors failed to properly search him, performing only a cursory pat down his arms and legs. No serious search, no metal detectors of any kind. He nearly spat in contempt. \n\nAmateurs. \n\nHe shifted slightly in his chair, noted that the steel seat was bolt down into the ground along with the stable. He noticed however, that the only other chair in the room was not. The florescent lights were too bright, too sterile. The one way mirror was situated to Langley's left, the door in front of him and to the right. There was no outlets, no place to hook up electric tools and unless they were willing to hump a goddamn battery to the room, no jumper cables. No drains for blood, no faucets for water. So unless they kept their torture equipment separate from their holding cells he was in little danger of having his finger nails pulled out with white hot pliers.\n\nAs he thought, amateurs.\n\nHe wore the same uniform he had been captured in, the olive green coveralls a little worse for wear. His camouflaged jacket had his lieutenant's single silver pip on its black collar tabs, the black coffin with crossed silver longswords on the left sleeve the emblem of his unit. \n\nThe door opened up and two men stepped into the room, an armed guard and an officer wearing the uniform of a Knight of the Republic of the Sphere. The enlisted soldier stood with his back to the wall, Mauser laser rifle held across his chest. The knight tossed a thick manila folder onto the stainless steel table and pulled out a seat. \n\n\"I am Sir Tyler Harcourt of the Republic Armed Forces and you're gonna answer some questions of mine.\"\n\nLt. Langley merely smiled and said, \" Quentin P. Langley. Lieutenant in the Grave Guards mercenary battalion. Serial number 7822. That's all you're getting out of me clown.\"\n\nThe guard behind the RAF officer frown but said nothing. The knight however, smiled in that venomous style of a serpent, feral and not a little evil. \n\n\"We are civilized soldiers, Lieutenant. You will not be mistreated. We merely want to know certain details about your commanding officer, Major Winston Tycho Novak.\"\n\nLangley winced as the man spoke Novak's name.\n\n\"For the record, he doesn't much care for his first name. And if you want me to talk, I want something to eat.\"\n\nThe knight snapped his fingers and the guard left the room, no doubt to conduct that little errand.\n\n\"How long have you served with the Major?\" The Republic knight asked.\n\n\"... Five years. Started off as a corporal and worked my way up.\"\n\n\"And what was your impression of Major Novak in the beginning?\"\n\n\"I heard the rumors, watched the holotapes. They said that he survived Operation Hammerfall and cobbled together a scratch company of soldiers from the remnants of the defenders of Corsicana. They say the Wolves capture him and a hundred others, made them dig their own graves and then shot them. He lived and dug himself out of a mass grave filled with the bodies of his comrades. They say he fought an entire star of clanners alone, killing all of them. \n\n\"Many would call the Major a criminal, a man who endangers innocents and shows little mercy to his foes. I know this to be false. I know him to be a man willing to do whatever it takes for victory. He is unscrupulous, willing to lie and to cheat to gain the upper hand but there is honor in that still. Every life he takes saves a dozen innocent ones.\"\n\nThe knight shook his head.\n\n\"If a battle is not won honorably, is not conducted with dignity and mercy, then that victory is hollow.\"\n\nLangley laughed, the chains connected to his cuffs clinking as they shook slightly.\n\n\"There is nothing merciful about war, nothing dignified in slaughtering your fellow man. There is no honor in defeating a foe. There is only violence, and blood, and death. I thought very much the same as you when I first joined, raised on tales of the Knights of the Inner Sphere and whatnot. That shell of belief was soon cracked.\"\n\n\"Where?\" The RAF officer asked, leaning closer to his prisoner.\n\nLangley brushed his jacket, his thumb running over the silver pip of his rank. He smiled sadly at the memory.\n\n\"At a monastery called San Miguel...\"\n\n",
"One night I was wandering in the everglades and I saw things I'll never forget. To this day when I remember this night I have chills all over my body. As I was walking on my usual path I heard weird noises. The noises quickly turned into a chant. I hid behind a tree and as I was about to peek a drunkard came staggering from the other end. He was loud and the creatures that were chanting noticed him. Thankfully they didn't noticed me, yet. \n\nThe creatures were tall, all black with glowing eyes. From the sheer horror I almost forgot to breathe. They took the drunkard and led him where they came from. Only then I noticed the big pile of wood. I thought they were going to burn the poor man. But they didn't. They lit the fire, put the man in front of it and then they formed a big circle around him. \n\nThey begun to chant again. The air was filled with dark energy. I was so afraid that I couldn't move. The chant was getting louder and louder when the drunkard started dancing. Well dancing, it looked more like if he was a puppet. As if he was outside of his body. His hands moved around wildly, his head rocking back and forth, his legs going in all directions. \n\nSuddenly the chant stopped. The poor man's body dropped on the ground with a heavy thud. A second later the man stood up and started running as fast as he could. I swear he was sober than ever before. I stood there in horror and couldn't move. And then those glowing eyes turned to me...",
"*Crash!* \n\nThe young woman hurried into the room to find the old man huffing, out of breath, standing over the corner table flipped on its side. Slowly, her eyes changed from surprise and fear, to endearing and kind. \"Dad,\" she asked softly. \"What are you doing?\" \n\nHe licked his chapped lips, before weakly replying, \"I can't find my watch.\"\n\nHis voice quivered at the end, as he turned to sit back in his bed. Placing his face in his hands, he quietly began to weep. The young woman sat beside him, wrapping her arm around his shoulder. \n\nThe old man tried to hide his tears, but the small *hic*'s in his voice betrayed him. \"I can't find anything...\" the man choked through the tears. She knew what he meant.\n\nIt happened thirteen years ago, when she was 8 years old. On her walk home from school, she got lost taking a wrong turn. Her father, protective of his only child, frantically called the school and their neighbors, asking for any clues to her whereabouts. Luckily, she came home two hours later, after asking for directions from a kind passerby. Every day since, her father picked her up personally, promptly at school's end.\n\nThirteen years later, the thought of losing her still weighed heavy on his now forgetful mind. \n\nThe man sniffled and wiped away his tears. \"I'm tired...\" he said, rubbing his head with his hand. \n\n\"Then close your eyes and go to sleep,\" she said, standing up to lay him down. \"I'll be right here when you wake up.\" \n\nShe pulled the blankets up under his arms, and re-attached his I.V. \"I'm right here, it'll be alright,\" she repeated, slowly rubbing his arm.\n\nHe sighed. In a moment of partial clarity, he asked the young woman in a near whisper, \"Where's [Sarah](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JNm2_Wth1sE)?\" \n\nSarah was his wife and her mother, but she died many years ago, and it seemed the fact slipped his mind once more.\n\n\"Well,\" the young woman started. \n\n\"She...she's on a boat, and she's going to meet some family.\" \n\n\"Yeah?\"\n\n\"Yeah,\" she nodded, biting her trembling lip.\n\nShe continued the story, holding his hand until he closed his eyes.\n\n...\n\n*Beep. Beep. Beep*\n\nThe young woman silently sat by the bed, holding her father's hand, as she stared out into nothing. \n\nShe sniffled. \"Is it stupid to think you can hear me?\" she asked.\n\n*Beep. Beep. Beep.*\n\nHer bottom lip trembled as she took in a deep breath -- he had always come running to her side, always finding a way to make her smile. She tried to stifle her tears, laying her head down on his hand.\n\n\"I need you, daddy,\" she whispered quietly. \"Please don't leave me...\"",
"The young woman seated herself before the sleek, black grand piano in the middle of the otherwise empty room. The moonlight shone brightly like a spotlight through the tall windows down onto her, as she softly pressed the first chord. \n\nThe typically silent room echoed with the melancholy tone, echoing the sadness that she felt deep in her heart. The tail of her elegant sweater gracefully draped over the back of her seat. Quietly at first, then progressively more forceful, she put her heart into the performance for only one.\n\nAfter the last note of the [ten-minute performance](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wgPh3mSYf0M) reverberated around the room, she became still, as a single tear began to drip slowly down her cheek. \n\nRegardless of how much her parents, her friends, her siblings, her boyfriend, and the audience praised her for her skill, her beauty, and her talent, she still felt totally and completely worthless, not worthy of sharing the same air with the people around her.\n\nShe quietly began to weep, now feeling the affects of the pills she had taken a few minutes before she sat down. She let her heavy head pull her body off the back of the chair and down on to the floor behind her. \n\nA fleeting moment of satisfaction of her first actual success was replaced by immediate regret, as she thought of her nieces and nephews.\n\n\"I'm sorry...\" she whispered into the air, as she closed her eyes."
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[WP] The genie frowned. "Immortal? I thought you said Immoral."
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[
"Immortality, a lifetime, well infinite lifetimes to do whatever strikes my fancy. That'd be grand thought Lee. \"Okay, so my first wish Mr Genie is imperatality, pure and simple \"\n\n\"Firstly its pronounced Djinn, or Raznar the Magnificent\", the Djinni sighed, technically it was Jack, but nobody wants a Cockney Genie. And immorality, really? This guy was much more interesting than the ones before him, but still this was the third guy this week, apparently bottles were always being picked up around here. \"Anyway, done.\" \n\nLee suddenly felt... Free, to do as he wanted. He supposed it came from the fact nothing could harm him, I mean what do people fear more than Death itself, and Lee from Chelsea was the one to finally beat him. He felt exhilarated. \"So is this how immortality feels like?\" Two wishes left, but he had all of time to pick them make sure they were perfect \n\nJohn spent the next year or so in a suitcase traveling around Las Vegas, Thailand, Amsterdam and so on before he got to stretch his legs again. Lee was broke, he'd spent his inheritance, gambled away his savings and lost his house in a backroom poker game. \n\n\"I need money, cash, gold, anything I can sell or gamble, Genie.\"\n\n\"What is your wish, I don't do I wants or I needs.\" Lee thought, well give a man a fish and he'll need another one in a week, teach a man to fish and he'll never be hungry. \"I wish to never lose, to always be lucky\" John granted the wish with a yawn \"There, done. You'll always get lucky, and never lose\"\n\nLee went back to the blackjack table downstairs, but on the way got stopped by a very attractive woman who said nothing but lead him to her room. Lee didn't even question it, the blackjack table would still be there tomorrow. \n\nExcept when tomorrow came the cleaning lady was all over him and unlike last night she must have been in her 60s. Lee found himself not caring as much as he should have, after all he'd have all of time to play poker or blackjack and make his fortune \n\nAfter five, six years and a woman (and once or twice a man to Lees surprising delight) Lee started noticing gray in his hair, well he couldn't have that. He guessed immortal life didn't come with immortal youth. \n\n*Rub, rub, rub* Lee summoned the Djinn and asked why he was going grey, \"Well that's what happens when you grow up\" drawled sarcastically. Lee fuming that he had been tricked supposed he had to use his last wish to fix this. Eternal youth? No, he could look like he was 12 for eternity, ability to change his age? Kinda boring. \"I know how to fix this, I wish to change my shape!\"\n\n\"Huh, what?\" John, thoroughly bored of this guy now and just wanting to go back to watching Eastenders said. \"I want to be old, young, female, well whatever\" John again not really paying attention clicked his fingers and watched John age about 40 years in a second as he spiralled back into his lamp finding that he'd missed what Penny had done to the bar ",
"I'm a bot, *bleep*, *bloop*. Someone has linked to this thread from another place on reddit:\n\n- [/r/fractal_death] [\\[Submitted\\] The genie frowned. \"Immortal? I thought you said Immoral.\"](https://np.reddit.com/r/Fractal_Death/comments/3jnnrq/submitted_the_genie_frowned_immortal_i_thought/)\n\n[](#footer)*^(If you follow any of the above links, please respect the rules of reddit and don't vote in the other threads.) ^\\([Info](/r/TotesMessenger) ^/ ^[Contact](/message/compose?to=/r/TotesMessenger))*\n\n[](#bot)",
"Ugh dumb genie, what am I gonna do\n\nWith \"immoral\" beats, unclean mouth, verbal zoo?\n\nI wanted rap eternity, not rap obsurdity\n\nObscenity is redundant, no change has been incurred to me\n\nMy beats were already wrong like murder\n\nYour cute little change has moved me no further\n\nBut I got two wishes left, you're pretty deaf\n\nSo let's make this loud and clear, like your right from your left\n\nWish number one, I wish for more wishes\n\nWish number two, brotha do my dishes\n\nI'll save the rest for later, cuz clearly you're a hater.\n\nGet an attitude adjustment, step up as my placater",
"The genie shrugged. \"Sorry, kid, no can do.\"\n\nEddie's mouth dropped open. \"What?!\"\n\n\"Yeah, I can't make you something you already are.\" He examined his fingernails.\n\n\"Does that mean I still have three wishes?\"\n\n\"Yupparoonie. Wildest dreams, craziest ideas, you name it, it's yours.\" The genie sounded bored.\n\nEddie thought for a long moment. \"I wish I had a hundred million dollars.\"\n\n\"That's a lot of money, kid. As you wish --\" he snapped his fingers. \"Check your bank account.\"\n\nEddie tapped at his phone. \"Sweet! Next up, a fabulous financial advisor who will manage my money responsibly in my favour.\"\n\n\"All yours. There should be a business card in your wallet.\" The genie sighed as he snapped his fingers again. This kid was so unimaginative. Eight hundred years trapped in that godforsaken lamp and THIS is the idiot who set him free. The next wish would send him off to the forgotten realm until another enchantress phoned up the office of genies and his number was up.\n\n\"Well, since I'm going to have the rest of forever to invest my money, I'd like my financial advisor to be immortal too.\" Eddie grinned in satisfaction.\n\n\"Sure thi -- wait. Did you say *immortal*?\" The genie looked at Eddie.\n\n\"Yeah, immortal. Like me. You said I already was, right?\" Eddie raised an eyebrow.\n\n\"Shit, kid, I thought you said immoral! You've gotta be kidding me.\" The genie ran a hand through his hair. \"Fuck, man, now I'm gonna get audited...\"\n\n\"Wait, was that actually my last wish?\" Eddie asked quickly. \n\n\"I didn't snap my fingers, and rules is the wish don't get granted until the fingers snap.\" Now it was the genie's turn to look confused. \"Why?\"\n\n\"I take back what I said earlier, and my third wish is for both me and my financial advisor to be immortal. Can my advisor also be female?\" Eddie looked hopeful.\n\n\"Immortal, yes, female, no guarantees. I can do compatible personality for ya, though, since you'll be spending forever together,\" the genie offered.\n\n\"Deal.\" Eddie grinned as the genie snapped his fingers. \"Thanks, mate.\"\n\n\"You couldn't have been a little more imaginative?\" sighed the genie. \"But hey, I suppose money brings happiness. I gotta run, kid. Don't get into too much trouble.\"\n\nEddie's phone buzzed in his pocket. As he answered the call, the genie poofed out of existence. \"Hello?\"\n\n\"Is this Eduardo Velasquez?\"\n\n\"Sure is, what's up?\"\n\n\"Hi, I'm Emily, calling from Mirrabar Federal Credit Union. We have reason to believe that your account has been compromised...\"\n\n\"Shit.\""
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[WP] Expert food critique Guy Fieri comes home after traveling the world eating 5 star meals to a disappointing Thanksgiving dinner by his mom. This is his passive aggressive reaction.
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"(**Wipes mouth, puts napkin down**)\n\n(Well, mom…)\n\nYour homemade turkey is, tbh fam,\n\nA little lackluster, just a little bland\n\nHave you tried cooking it? I heard that it's nice\n\nInstead of handing me a bird that’s made of ice\n\nArticuno in this bitch, trick, you swing and then you miss this\n\nAnd by the way your homemade strawberry jam is piss\n\nWait no no don’t cry, your gravy boat is mad fly\n\nIt looks like something you make when kinda really don’t try\n\nNo wait it slipped out, mom, the stuffing’s mad tricked out, mom\n\nNah who am I kidding, your food tastes better shit out, mom",
"Oh mama, here we go, the big day, gnawing turkey off the bone. You know what I'm talkin' about, that's right: Thanksgiving. Guy Fieri here, and tonight we're eating a meal by someone special to me, my mom. \n\nAfter eating so much delicious food over the past year - meatballs, sandwiches, something I'm pretty sure the guy scrapped off the road and still made amazing - there's nothin' getting in the way of enjoying one of the best kinds of cooking known to man. Home cooking. \n\nExcept this year my mom decided to try something different.\n\nSaid she saw it on the Food network. Not that she told me what it is. Maybe she's making turkey egg turkey burgers or something is what I thought.\n\nIf only.\n\nShe brings that big ol' steaming platter and I could feel the gnawing spirit inside me wanting to tear it from her hands, you know what I'm talking about. Well when she pulls the lid off of it imagine my response wen there's no turkey.\n\nJust ham.\n\n\"Mom, it looks delicious. For Christmas especially.\"\n\n\"Oh, thanks honey!\"\n\n\"Where's the stuffing?\"\n\n\"I'll go get it.\"\n\nThat can't have gone wrong, I think.\n\nThen she brings that steaming hot bowl and I'm getting into it again. She sets it down. Perfection. I go for that first, not questioning that she apparently prepared nothing else. At least that's less holidays to get wrong.\n\nI start to take a bite and she asks if I want some ham, but I tell her I just gotta taste the stuffing. It's what I do on my show, eat stuff as soon as I can.\n\nOh, god.\n\n\"How is it, sweetie?\"\n\n\"Well it's stuffing.\"\n\nShe laughs. That's about the highest praise I can give for it though.\n\nAt least the ham might taste fine. I take a few cuts of that. I take a bite. It's dry. She asks how it is too. \"It certainly is ham.\""
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[WP] Your job is to prevent technology from advancing too quickly. When you discover a ground-breaking invention you must act quickly to contain it so its benefits can be metered out slowly over the course of several decades.
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"You think it's a coincidence we could send information packets across the country in the 60s but the internet only became commercial in the 90s? These things don't happen by accident. We could have had the whole thing up and running in '74. But it wouldn't have been ready, and in fact, I suspect we rushed that one a bit.\n\nWe looked at it and saw the potential. This tech could unite the world! Depose tyrants! Preserve and spread knowledge across the entire globe! I don't think there's been a single tech in the last couple of centuries that excited our organization this much, except perhaps vaccinations and color television.\n\nBut we couldn't just drop it on the world. We needed to make sure it was ready - and more importantly, that the world was ready.\n\nThese transformations don't happen overnight. You need to get people used to certain modes of thinking, certain ways of looking at the world. This tool could allow people to understand others across the world; you couldn't just drop that on them. Some people were still getting their current events from radio, and highly-controlled radio at that. If we suddenly gave them access to full information on all current events on Earth, they wouldn't know what to do with it.\n\nWe needed to get them used to the idea that they could learn about faraway events, and lots of them. So we pressured the news media to exponentially increase their coverage of the ongoing war in Vietnam. We encouraged an increase in international trade, and made sure everyone knew about it. We got people to become curious about the unofficial story. We got them to actively seek out faraway information.\n\nAt the same time, we needed to make sure the new network would be reliable. We worked with the leading researchers in the field under the explicit condition that all the tech remain strictly academic. I still can't believe how much control we managed to exert on them with nothing but friendly suggestions and nudges in the right direction. Persuasion was an art, but we turned it into a science. Under our guidance, they developed standards, protocols, and safety nets - things that were not strictly necessary and would not have been in place without us.\n\nWhen the internet finally dropped in stages between '91 and '95, people jumped on the idea. They found a ready-and-waiting network that carried their data from one end of the globe to the other, causing an overnight revolution in media, politics, and commerce. And, I'm sorry to say, crime. Our defenses proved insufficient. Like I said, I think that one could have used a decade or two more.\n\nSo when I tell you we don't want to rush this, trust that I know what I'm talking about. If you release it tomorrow, you'll cause chaos. There will be revolutions. There will be wars. And despite your best efforts, there will be death. You won't be able to save everyone.\n\nBut if you work with us, we can roll it out the right way. We will spend the next few decades pushing down birthrates, automating industry, and stabilizing political ecosystems. We will encourage cultures of varied and complex entertainment that won't rapidly become stale. We will push for research in food production, vertical construction, and pollution reduction. We will help the world find peaceful solutions for its problems.\n\nIn the meantime, no one said you can't use it yourself. We're not monsters; we're trying to help people, not punish them. You will reap the full benefits of your world-changing discovery.\n\nAnd in fifty years, when you finally unveil immortality, you'll know you did it *right.*\n\n==\n\nIf you liked this, subscribe to my [subreddit](https://www.reddit.com/r/seeshark) and I promise I'll only clutter your front page once every week or two.",
"**My first ever writing prompt**\n\nI'd just left the temporal displacement laboratory and logged onto the secure ACA forum using my office computer, I could only read in disbelief at my agents report.\nI had just sent O'Leary back in time 14 days ago to investigate what happened to his predecessor, Nicholson, who suddenly stopped making updates to his forum post just\nwhen he was just getting ready to strike his target. O'Leary has likely suffered the same fate I realised. Both field reports ended before they could complete \ntheir mission, its as I suspected they were both dead then. \"Fuck\" I thought.\n\nYears of experience have taught me coincidences do not exist in my line of work, there is always a human element controlling them. The target has somehow \nbecome aware of our interference and is now taking precautions to protect himself. \"Fucking hell\" I thought, two agents down, the team is at half strength now,\njust me and Renton left. Never in my career have I been two agents down.\n\nIt is virtually unheard of for agents to permanently die in the line of duty, why let an agent with decades of experience fall on the field if you could \nsend back an operative to avert their demise. I'd have to alter my mission report to let upper management know of Nicholson and O'Leary's fate, of course I'd have\nto locate their bodies as proof before we could begin the retentions process.\n\nThe Advancement Control Agency has been successfully controlling human technological advancement for just over half a century now. We are lucky that time\ndisplacement was discovered so early because with it comes the potential to avert the disasters caused by the innumerable atrocities humanity has developed.\n\n\"Tell me the good news boss\" Renton said as he strutted through the doorway, hands in his pockets of his cheap suit. Why doesn't he buy something nicer I thought\nits not as if he can't afford it.\n\n\"We doubled down and we lost. O'Leary is dead too.\" I said as I raised my eyes to meet his.\n\nRenton just stared back to me in disbelief. There was a pause of a few seconds.\n\nRenton was our team support operative, we both knew he'd be the next one through the time portal, he wasn't used to work in the field all too well, but it was his\njob he would have to step up to the mark.\n\nBoth Renton and I decided we should play our next move carefully, we went back to the drawing board. I'd sent him to gather as much information about our target,\nMark Hill, as possible. Everything he could get from the archives. I put in a request to the future information retrival service for all information we could get but\nunfortunately they came back with very little usable material, this was unusual, most of the time I'd have at least 50 pages of trash information to sift through from \nthem. I realised it was either because the target has become that much more protective of his personal information or its just because the ACA is beginning to show its\nage. I'd even heard reports of time equipment failures occuring, upper management understandably has been keen to suppress this type of wild fire from spreading.\n\nRenton and I, looked through pages of electricity bills, science journal articles and an assortment of newspaper headlines about the supposed \"Luckiest Man Alive\".\nFrom our research we discovered that Hill had been a biochemist working for Jaltech and was employed in their research and development wing. We'd send back our agents\nto discover how exactly he'd won the lottery five times in a row, under different aliases of course, he was a clever guy. We could gleam nothing from our work though\nJaltech were secretive and only spoke in PR babble about their latest developments when the public was ready to hear them.\n\nI sent information to upper management about my proposed course of action, to go back through time with Renton and recover O'Leary and Nicholson before they died, I let\nthem know that if we didn't return myself that they would need to send a request to the retention department for us as well.\n\nRenton and I stepped through the portal in the time displacement laboratory and exited into an identical time displacement laboratory, everything was virtually the same\nexcept for the large LCD calendar on the wall that let us know our first step had been succesful. We were escorted from the laboratory out the underground passageway\nto avoid running into earlier iterations of ourselves. We made our way via company car to a safe house in outside of Luton.\n\nRenton died that night with a deafening bang. He somehow activated his firearm when cleaning it. I buried his body in the back garden of the property that morning, updated\nthe field report and left for the mission on my own. On the motorway I had a terrifying epiphany. I was right. None of this was a coincidence at all. Three agents down,\nthis target is some kind of scientist, he's won the lottery five times now. Somehow he is responsible for this but I do not know how yet. He seems to have an unusual control\nover things in some way.\n\nI continued on for a rendezvous with O'Leary at a place I knew where he'd be at 13:40 on 06/07/2068. I parked the car nearby the small London library I had intended to meet O'Leary at.\nLike clockwork he'd walked in off the street in his expensive Armani three piece. He never could nail that conspicuous look down, why would a man who afford that suit be in a public\nlibrary to use a computer. I'd updated him to the story so far and he thanked me profusely for saving him for whatever doom awaited him.\n\nWe examined the printed copy of his field report and we walked through the stated locations at the stated times looking for any clue as to what hazard O'Leary was going to run into.\nNothing stood out to me for the two days we criss crossed London. O'Leary tried to stick to his pre-destinted routine so as to not interfere with the timeline so much so we could\nget as much information as possible. Finally we came to the end of the field report. Its last paragraph had stated he had intended to enter Jaltech in the guise of a scientist so \nas to get a closer look at Hill.\n\nWe were on our way to the Jaltech Headquarters on the edge of London. When we stopped for some refreshments at a local petrol station. I was inside browsing the newspapers looking at \nHill's latest lottery win, his third, the one he used his real name on. He stared into the camera with a childish grin on his face. That's all I remember of that day.\n\nI awoke in the St Guy's Hospital ICU, seven days later with extensive burns. The medical staff explained there was a huge explosion at the petrol station, a freak accident they said.\nJust then I remembered this story in the news from weeks ago, \"Fireball consumes Enfield Service Station\" I didn't care when I read it, it was just another non-important story\nin the hustle bustle of London life to me. I now realised that the unidentified victim from the security cameras was surely O'Leary. I realised too that I'd missed my window of meeting\nNicholson and he was surely dead by now as well. \"Fuck\" I thought.\n\nI lay in ICU until a representative from ACA came to visit me. They had located me somehow. I was then given the full story by Jacobson from upper management. He told me we were the\nfifth team sent after Hill. Every other team they sent had resulted in a catastrophic failure, all team members were always eradicated by freak accidents. The information they\nwere able to get together from all five teams thus far have led them to believe that he has created some kind of technology that can severely enhance his luck and make almost any chance based event\nwork in his favour. This is only a theory right now and we have no idea of how such techology would even work but its the most we can make of the story.\n\nJacobson looked at his watch every now and again. He continued by saying that all ACA operations into the future have been failures as the time displacement equipment doesn't function\nat any date later than 11.06.2083. He worriedly stated that upper management is fearful for our future and thus the future of all humanity.\n\nJacobson told me all this and left just before 11pm. In the middle of the night I remember a crack above the ceiling and feeling the tremendous pain of the room collapsing in on me somehow.\nI had died.\n\nI reawoke in retentions. I was unsure exactly how long I was out for or how I got there. They don't give very much information away to retain operation security and so I didn't ask any questions.\n\nI walked back to my office and met with O'Leary, Nicholson and Renton. We didn't even know where to begin with this whole thing. We agreed to just take the rest of the day off."
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[WP] Researchers discover depths of the ocean almost 3x deeper than the Mariana Trench, marine biologists decide to plunge down to the bottom for the first time. Write about the contents of what they discover.
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"Ian contemplated the hatch on his submersible for a moment. A stiff sea breeze blew across the hull of his boat. It was a beautiful day for a dive. The birds sailed overhead in the warm currents swept up by the sun’s rays. The water was only a little choppy, and he knew that once he got below the surface, they’d have no problems.\n\nHe stuffed a leg into his dive suit and yanked it up over his skin, massaging a little where the hairs caught so it would go on better. The suit was only a precaution, really–they’d be taking the sub because, as usual, the artifact was just too deep to reach in a wetsuit. And besides, the water here was cold and filled with critters he wasn’t eager to encounter. \n\nThis mission wasn’t going to be like the missions he usually went on, he knew that already. Usually their runs were pretty basic. Old treasures. Sometimes a barge or two. This, though…this was something different. He’d gotten the reports already from command. No one had ever seen a machine like this one, before…at least, not in a long time. And no one had ever taken a submersible this deep.\n\n“Ready?” the captain called as Ian yanked the zipper on his dive suit up a final two inches. He stuffed his head into a neoprene cap and squished his hair inside so it would fit.\n\n“All suited up,” he replied. One of the crewmen pulled on the hatch door and it opened with a great and mighty creak. Ian’s breath caught in his throat. The hairs stood up on the back of his neck, and his stomach did little flip-flops in anticipation. He stepped one foot down into the sub’s depths as shouts of “All loaded up!” came from above. The door banged shut in front of him and the world went black for a moment. The instrument panel in front of him stuttered to life and surrounded him with a warm, red glow. \n\nHe heard the clank of the sub’s coupling being released. The vehicle dropped into the water and began its descent. Ian busied himself with checking various gauges and measurements. He listened to the whir of his communications cable cutting through the water. Everything seemed to be going as planned, and he let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.\n\nA few minutes later the submersible kicked up a cloud of silt as it touched bottom. He waited a moment for it to settle, then flicked on the lights. In front of him stood a massive monument to human engineering. Rotted metal twisted itself into the form of a torpedo. The ancient machine’s wings jutted from the torpedo’s sides and soared out into the water, perched on an ocean ledge as if still in flight. The letters “OENG 74” were stamped in red paint across one of the remaining panels.\n\nIan let out a gasp. It was more beautiful than he could have ever imagined. He’d waited his entire life for this discovery. Years of scouring the ocean floor for clues had finally brought him here. Ian marveled to himself how he had managed to pull this off. The scouting. The perfect crew. One in it not for the money the artifacts would fetch but the science. The captain, James Cook, one of his best friends, supporting him all the way.\n\nNow, for the first time in two hundred years, perhaps humans would rediscover the secret to flight.\n\nIan flipped on his communication channel. \n\n“Guys, you’re not gonna believe this,” he said. “It’s here. All of it is here!”\n\nThere was a spurt of static over the radio before the captain’s voice filled the submersible’s cockpit.\n\n“Thanks for the confirmation, Ian. Oh, and sorry about this.”\n\n“What do you mean? You guys have been great!”\n\nThere were a few moments of static followed by an abrupt silence. Ian flipped the transmission switch a few times. Nothing. \n\n“Hello?” Ian said as he frantically switched the toggle back and forth. His heart rate rose as the reality of his situation began to hit him. He pounded on the submersible’s control panel and swore under his breath. “Hello? James? Anyone? Hello?!”\n\nThe world went black, and no more sound came into the cockpit.",
"I posted this somewhere else, but it applied to this one as well.\n\nLights pierced through the murky gloom as we dove ever further down the Marina Trench. Harold scanned the sonar screen, and Captain Jim was calm. I, on the other hand, felt like the hula girl on the sub's control board: watched.\n\nC. Jim and Harold didn't seem to notice the presence that I felt. They seemed completely oblivious.\n\nI don't know how they couldn't feel it.\n\nIt was when I was about to bring it up that we began the final descent. I couldn't bring it up then - it required the utmost concentration to find a spot to rest the sub, as well as actually settling it.\n\nWe descended to the area shown on the sonar to be a clearing of rock, but there wasn't anything to hit. We couldn't see anything to tell us for sure, but I can tell you now that we went below the bottom of the Mariana Trench. Harold and C. Jim don't remember it, but I do.\n\nThey fell unconscious once we passed the non-existent barrier. The aboveground medics didn't find any drugs in their system or any marks on their heads, but I can tell you why they slept.\n\nThey did not believe in the Old One, the One who lived at the bottom of the sea. (Well, ocean, but sea sounds more poetic)\nThe One that allowed me to live.\n\nFifty feet below the facade, the sub touched ground. I tried to wake up the Captain and Harold, but neither of them stirred. At that point, I broke protocol and set out on my own in the depth suit. The only thing that kept me from getting lost in the dark was a cable and a specialized sonar display.\n\nI had barely taken five steps from the sub before I found an archway. An archway! Mikes below the surface, an archway to a city. I wandered for what must have been hours, just exploring the place.\n\nEventually, though, I found myself drawn to the watcher, to the Great One. I was terrified every step of the way, but my curiosity drove me on.\nI really need some common sense.\n\nWhen I found the Great Cthulhu, I was awed. Xie was in a lower form of Xis true glory, taking on a form that my mortal mind could handle. Xie was amazing, nonetheless.\n\nI watched in awe for a time of which I lost count, just watching Xim at Xis activity. There wasn't a single mistake, not a single error.\n\nI had never before, and have never since, seen someone play Guitar Hero so well."
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[WP] You almost committed suicide.
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"The day started like any other, same bullshit, same result. It was what I overheard later that set it off. It was something that to anyone else would be minor, maybe even laughable but to me, it was a soul crushing blow straight to the gut.\n\nI crawled back into my room in a daze. For years I was down but I could always see the light in the distance, it may have been a mere candle flickering at the end of a long tunnel but it was there. The faint light was the hope that one day I would reach the end, emerge and finally be back to the way I was. Those few words extinguished the light forever. \n\nFor the first time in my life I was unsure of what I was feeling. Since I was 9 years old the thought of it always fascinated me, I was used to thinking about the hows and the whys. However, there was always a counter point, a why not that stopped me from acting. Now at 15 when that light went out I no longer had a why not, just an endless stream of whys that overwhelmed my rationality and took over my actions.\n\nThe next few minutes I felt like I was on autopilot. I pulled the duvet off my bed and placed it on the floor, searched through the closet until I found my favorite belt, looped the belt around my neck and tied it off on my bed. I still remember how the belt felt sitting there, familiar yet foreign as I used to tug on a belt looped in a similar fashion until I was dizzy but never had I affixed the end to anything other than my hand. As I pulled the duvet over my head embracing the stuffy darkness I was still not quite aware of exactly what I was doing, I just began to slouch down and tighten the belt. \n\nThen there was a knock at the door, it snapped me back into reality and I sat up and untied the belt hastily and then called out. My mom came in and noticed me sitting there, under a duvet, at the end of my bed and just asked if everything was OK. We had a whole conversation with me under the blanket as if it was normal practice, then she left. I put the duvet back on my bed, the belt back in the closet and just went to sleep as if nothing had happened. \n\nNot sure if that was what you wanted.... and sorry for the grammar :o",
"It's hard to capture the moment in words. Everything leading up to it is just a blur, this indescribable devastation. Something more than hopelessness, that's for sure. For a few weeks I sank deeper into that belief that things would never get better. I would only struggle, starve, then die a fuck-up who never mastered anything. I didn't believe myself capable of feeling anymore, not even the good things, so what was I supposed to do?\n\nBut honestly, I was drunk - so drunk - and coming down, hard. I never meant to get hooked. The hours just got longer, though... my sleep worse. The pills kept me going through the morning, but after a few months, I stopped falling asleep every night. \n\nMaybe something just went wrong inside of me after that. Too many things happened to me in six months. Everything muddled together into one painful memory, compartmentalized for my own health. The doctor called me depressed one day and handed me the six-week trial. I was too stubborn to try more than a few, but it was probably too late for me, anyway...\n\nThat night I just wanted to burn everything that had anything to do with me alive. I didn't want to leave a single trace of me behind - what use would it be? People like me are a stain on society. As my brain slowly wastes away, I'll only become another burden, so why not finish myself off while I'm still sane enough to know the difference?\n\nCutting is hard to do - I couldn't bear to go deep enough. After a few solid slits that just wouldn't do it, I switched things up. It's actually surprisingly easy to swallow a handful of pills. I finished two bottles of Tylenol PM in four huge swallows, and half a bottle of Advil in two swallows after that. A few missed my mouth and bounced off my cheeks, rattling onto the floor. I had a few addys left, so I tossed them back for good measure - along with a weeks worth of my trial pack, left mostly untouched in a kitchen drawer. \n\nThen I headed to the fireplace to burn every piece of paper with my name on it and finish my beer.\n\nI remember sleeping after that, a nice sleep. Deep. The sun was coming up when I woke to my phone ringing, but I couldn't answer it - I could only puke neon blue over the side of my bed. Wave after wave of colors, mixed together and bubbling. My whole torso burned from the inside out. My liver ached across my sternum. The valve between my stomach and my esophagus may have disintegrated entirely, because the fire never stopped and the bitter waterfall of toxic foam never let up. Even my intestines felt the poison in my system.\n\nIt was hard to fall back asleep after that, what with the crippling pain disassembling me from the inside-out. I did bear it for a few more hours - I give myself that credit. Fifteen hours after I took the pills, I called the ambulance to come get me.\n\nThe colorful waves of foam came back for a few hours. After that it was clear. It felt like days, but really it was only 9 hours. Nine hours of vomit. They wouldn't let me have any water - they said it would only make the aching nausea worse between the puke - but after six hours they let me suck on an ice cube.\n\nPeople came in and out the last few days. Some picked my brain, some asked for documentation. The most frequent were the nurses. They would change my dressing around my wrist, give me drugs for the pain in my liver and stomach, switch the IV bags that siphoned the toxins from my system. I ate, and slept, and watched TV.\n\nIt's been four days, and they finally took out the IVs. They let me take a shower. I get to wear underwear. I feel pretty fucking stupid, but what's done is done. Now it's off to the psych ward for the time being. My debt is probably going to get substantially worse from this whole ordeal, but I suppose that's the irony, right?\n\nI still don't know if things are going to get better. And I don't know if that feeling of desperation is going to come back. But inside me there's this new feeling: shame. Who knew I could be such a pussy? It only took two days for the idiocy of what I'd done to take hold. I vowed to myself never to try again - to work through it and be strong.\n\nAll I can hope is that it's enough to stop myself in the future.",
"We get the tip from a Senior leaning against the wall, beer sloshing over his red cup as he leans in confidentially. A secret door to the roof -- a hidden gem of a hookup spot! Holding hands in the intimate way strangers do, we slide through the crowd, slippery with excitement. When we hit the hallway, we break out in a run, laughing far too loud, delightedly tripping over trash cans. A few stairs and we’re there, gasping in drunken awe to find the latch unlocked. \n\nThe view is incredible. Giggling, I dare him to yell, “I’m king of the world!” and he does. He dares me to yell, “I like big butts!” and I do. Back and forth we go for some time, escalating our dares until we’re both laughing uncontrollably, leaning against the railing for support. Instantly, we both have the same idea, and we climb over the railing and onto the ledge of the roof. It’s just wide enough for us to sit, our legs dangling. Staring down at the ground far below, our laughter trickles off until there’s just silence. Shoulder-to-shoulder, but it’s as if suddenly we are both alone on that roof, both of us transfixed and unblinking. \n\nA few long breathes and he says, “Have you…I mean, do you ever think-” He falters. \n\n“Yes. I mean, I know what you mean, and yes.” I murmur. \n\n“We could just…just lean and that’s it.” We both laugh nervously, not making eye contact.\n\nA few long minutes pass in silence, and I’m surprised and mortified to feel a lump growing in my throat. Desperately trying to stop it from turning into real tears, I start coughing loudly, which is enough to break the moment. We make our way back over the railing, back to the pulsing party, back to the Senior who is now shouting at someone doing a keg stand, back to the reassuring warmth of the crowd. \n\nThe next morning, we run into each other in the breakfast line. The conversation is stilted and awkward – we don’t know each other, after all. Scooping hash browns onto his plate, he peeks at me out of the corner of his eye. \n\n“Last night was so dumb, right? We were way too drunk to be on that roof.” He laughs, but he’s waiting for my reaction.\n\n“We were way too drunk to be on this planet.” I play along. \n\nHe smiles in relief. As he’s walking away, he calls out over his shoulder, “Crazy night!”\n\n“Crazy.” \n",
"\"So then what happened?\" Jim was on the edge of his bar stool. \n\n\"Well, I mean you can't imagine the feeling, it's just so bleak and hopeless. I'll try to explain though... Try and use terms that are understandable...\" \nI paused to consider how I could phrase the intensity of such a thing to somebody. \n\nI looked up at Jim and he was patiently waiting. I took a sip of my beer and began. \n\n\"Picture this, you are in a dark room, all alone. This is a shit room too, it is dirty and smelly, it stinks as if somebody had died inside.\" \n\nJim was frowning but still attentive. \n\n\"You are trapped in this room, you cannot leave this small 6 foot by 8 foot \"storage cupboard\", claustrophobia sets in you want to escape but you can't, there is just no way out.\" I paused to take a breath, I found myself speaking too fast. \n\n\"The walls feel as though they are about to collapse in on your, and you won't be free when they do. There are much worse experiences ahead yet, the true fear and irrational thoughts haven't even started yet.\" \n\nI was actually starting to grow upset again speaking of this to somebody, but he seemed like he might be able to understand where I was coming from. \n\n\"Your head is pounding, pounding, pounding... With sounds, thoughts, visions and idea's, none of which are healthy for a person. All the while it seems as if you are the last person alive on earth, and if that wasn't enough you are trapped in a shitty cupboard with nothing but the raw fear, the unsafeness, the failing of your confidence and sense of self.\" \n\nJim was basically looking at me with his jaw dropped at this point.\n\n\"Was I afraid of dying? Fuck yes I was... You know what though, at that moment, for me, it was as if I was running from something even scarier then death itself... Even if I could free myself from the darkness, the outside world felt hostile, dangerous, unsafe and terrifying.\" \n\nI paused again to let it hopefully sink in, somebody who hadn't been through this themselves could hardly understand...\n\n\"Dying seemed to be the most logical thing to do to end all of this.\" \n\nJim was still silent, and I let it hang for a moment, taking a sip of my beer to wet my mouth, as it had become very dry. \n\n\"I had my shotgun like right there, and one shot in it. So I tilted my head up, put the barrel under my chin, and closed my eyes as the banging in my head continued, waiting to be followed by a much louder bang.\" \n\nJim finally spoke up, \"What stopped you?\" \n\nI smiled, \"When I opened my eyes for what I thought was the last time, I saw a light Jim, when all hope was lost, I saw a light in my darkness suddenly... When I seen that, I knew everything was going to be OK, I could live another day, I could find the strength to go on, to survive and escape this literal hell.\" \n\n\"What was the light?\" \n\n\"It was a crack in the ceiling I didn't notice before. I used the butt of my shotgun to bust it open wide enough that I could climb up a shelf, through the hole and onto the roof just as the zombies came crashing through one of the walls. From there I jumped onto a car off the back of the building and I've been running ever since.\" \n\nJim smiled, \"Fucking close call man, you have to be careful these days.\" \n\n\"God damned right.\" I replied, \"It's ridiculous how para-\" \n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"I think I heard something outside...\"\n\n\"Oh, shit. I just heard it too.\" \n\n\"Got your gun?\"\n\n\"Yup.\" \n\n\"Lets get the fuck out of here.\""
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[WP] You discover you have some crazy ultimate power, but you are trying as hard as possible to ignore your destiny as hero of the world.
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"\"GO AWAY YASMHA-ADDU, I DON'T CARE IF AN ASTEROID IS HEADING TOWARDS MEXICO CITY, I WANT TO GET SOME SLEEP!\" I yelled at the apparition in front of me while stuffing my face into my pillow.\n\nYou're confused right? Let's rewind time a bit...get it? Time? Eh, you'll get it in a moment.\n\nIt all started about three years ago.\n\nAt first, I obviously used my power for good, but honestly, who the hell wants to do that day after day, year after year?\n\nI know, I know, I seem like an idiot for saying so but I honestly rather not have this power. So bear with me for a moment.\n\nI was walking to class when I saw a car speed through a red light and go straight towards a girl walking across the street, immediately I yelled out \"watch out!\" and bam. Time just...stopped. Well, everything except me anyway.\n\nI'm no fool, of course I was confused for a moment but I've seen a few superhero movies in my time, I casually walked on over and attempted to pick her up and move her out of the way. Which honestly is a lot harder than it seems. I mean yea, I can stop time and all but I don't have super strength, so I ended up just tipping her over and dragging her still body against the asphalt over towards the sidewalk.\n\nI immediately went to the library to try and Google things I should do with my new found abilities. On my way in an ancient looking book just happened to fall off of a shelf in front of me.\n\nFor a moment I thought, \"No way, I mean come on...\" but I ended up opening the damn thing anyway. Yep, you guessed it, I picked a random page and it happened to detail an ancient Sumerian prophecy that talked about a *Chosen One* that would appear to save the world, one that could control time.\n\nAnd I did just that for a while, I've stopped so many mass shootings, murders, deadly accidents I've lost count long ago. I eventually used some of the powers for my own gain, found out everything this cute girl liked to get on her good side. I go into stores and just take things off the shelves and walk out, I even robbed a bank or two to get the cash for a new car and house.\n\nThough, I really don't feel bad about any of that, I mean I am the *Chosen One* anyway, it only seems fair for all the good I've done.\n\nBut now, I'm just annoyed. I can't even have an hour of peace and quiet, the world is intent on constantly reminding me of my powers.\n\nI turn on the local news for two, count it two seconds and the news anchor is being held hostage on live television pleading for someone to help her...great.\n\nI walk down the street to get a god damned coffee and I hear someone scream about being mugged...just wonderful.\n\nI'm about to go to sleep, 5 seconds after getting in bed a massive earthquake hits my town...screw you prophecy, now I have to walk around town and move everyone outside where it's safe.\n\nI can't not do it, I mean if I let people die when I could have saved them I'd just hate myself later.\n\nSo I decided to just keep time frozen and take a vacation. You'd think that would work right? Nope, apparently the Sumerian prophecy makers can project themselves or something like that even when I freeze time.\n\n\"Wake up *Chosen One!* Your powers are needed for the good of the world!\" yelled out Yasmah-Addu in his booming voice with an accent which I'm sure he's just made up considering it was different a week ago.\n\n\n\n\n\n \n",
"\"That'll be $56.50,\" the dead-eyed gas station attendant stated, staring at the computer screen. \n\nI sighed, a weight of embarrassment and guilt swelling, \"Sir,\" he made eye contact, \"Your manager comped my purchase in full, remember?\"\n\nA look of clarity appeared over the cashier's face, \"Right, yes, sorry about that, have a good day,\" he spoke quickly with an awkward smile.\n\nThe short walk to my car felt like a death march. It's just too easy, but I know it's wrong. The first time felt like winning the lottery: a simple call to my mortgage company to say I needed an extension, and when the lady asked what she could do I joked, \"Pay off my house in full?\" I couldn't question the relief of that burden when I saw my zeroed out statement the next month, like the banks need to get richer anyway. \n\nBut the fluke I thought was a singularity became a common occurrence. My friends became yes-men, I could never say something in jest. I told my former coworker that Hitler time-travelled and somehow wound up as our boss - he called the FBI and was taken into psychiatric custody. He's only out because I visited his doctors to tell them he was in full recovery. Then, of course, I explained to John that our boss was not, in fact, a time hopping nazi. \n\nAnything I stated as fact, people immediately believed completely and without hesitation. Think of the good I could bring to the world: \"I'm sorry terrorists, god wants you to build schools, not burn villages,\" \"That's right Mr. President, all wars are over so you can divert spending to NASA and truly free health care,\" \"Yes Kim Jong-Un, you've decided to step down and form a democracy.\" The list is endless. \n\nBut what's the point? Is it fun to tell a stranger they want to sleep with you immediately? You'd think so, but watching a person lose all sense of self, it is a disturbing robotic act. What is sex without consent? Rape. My gift is intellectual rape. \n\nSo what is world peace worth without free will? Am I supposed to talk to all 7 billion people and imprison them one by one? \n\nI opened my car door and sat down, \"just one more time,\" I thought as I drove towards Bill Gate's house. \n"
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[WP] You're out for a night at the clubs when you meet the most beautiful woman you've ever seen. Much to your surprise she invites you back to her place. In the morning you realize you've made a big mistake.
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"Her eyes landed on mine as her lips lightly touched her glass. She smirked, like it was an amusing circumstance and turned back to the bar. That was all she had to do to get me hooked. My eyes lingered on her though she had turned away, legs that went on for ages, firm ass, wide hips, slim waist, a supple pair of breasts, full lips, and a twinkle in her eyes. I downed the remnants of my drink, hoping to get a bit more of that liquid courage working in me before I threaded through the thick crowd to get to her. I liked to think I wasn't hard on the eyes, so it didn't take much for us to engage in conversation. I offered to buy her a drink. She demands I dance with her instead. Who am I to say no to probably the most alluring woman on the planet? I take her hand and lead her out into the dance floor. The way she moved to the music, the way she felt against me, that was more than enough to drive me crazy. At the end of the evening, I offered to take her home. I walk her to the door, and to my surprise, she tugged me down for a kiss. She clumsily unlocks the door and pulls me in. You can only guess what happens next.\n\nIt was almost too good to be true, I thought to myself as she lay quietly by my side the morning after. I wish I didn't have to leave but it was the first day of class after all. As a professor, I didn't really have a choice of missing it. So I kissed her once more, just to say goodbye. And then I kissed her again, just because I wanted to.\n\nImagine my surprise... Imagine my dismay when I find her eyes land on mine later that day. Just as beautiful, with recognition and what might have been horror in her eyes as she realized the same time I did. I fucked my student.",
"I go into the bar and what do I see?\n\nA beautiful woman, staring at me.\n\nShe walks to my table and says with a smile,\n\n\"Hey, would you like to chat for a while?\"\n\n\nWe talk and we talk until it's past 1,\n\nAnd then she says, \"Hey, want to go have some fun?\"\n\nI nod and we leave, to go to her home\n\nTo sleep together on her memory foam.\n\n\nThe morning breaks soon; too soon to be honest\n\nAnd of this bed I must say I'm not the fondest.\n\nI look to my left and see with dismay\n\nThe guy that I met turned out to be gay.\n\n__________\n\nI dunno if this is any good, but I think it's just genius to be honest."
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A quote by r.m.drake
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[wp] "She slept with wolves without fear, for the wolves knew a lion was among them."
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"They huddle around her, a knotted mess,\n\nStrung together in the heat of the snow,\n\nOne or two resting softly on her chest,\n\nTrem-bling from her power, not from the cold.\n\n\nRuling over the pack of gray-furred beasts,\n\nA golden tuft flutters in ice-cold wind,\n\nWith indifferent gaze, she watches them sleep,\n\nSoon the birds will chirp, and the night will end.\n\n\nThen they will rise and give chase to the sun,\n\nShe keeping watch so they will not get burned,\n\nThey'll run and play until the day is done,\n\nShe'll keep them safe again once they've returned.\n\n\nThey'll be safe and warm from the winter cold,\n\nAn old Lion, and her pack of wolves.",
"\"She slept with wolves without fear, for they knew a lion was among them.\"\n\nAs I walked into the forest with my father at my side I felt both nervous and excited. I had been begging him for a chance to go on a hunting trip for years and he was finally taking me with him to learn the ways of the hunter. The only thing is, I just can't help but feel something is...off. His demeanor is different than normal, he seems very distant. Suddenly we stop in a clearing of the forest, my father kneels down in front of me and places his large hand on my shoulder lovingly.\n\n\"My dear, this is the hardest thing I will ever have to do. And I am sorry for it, you are my daughter and I love you.\"\n\nHe could see the confusion in my eyes growing now. My head was swirling with ideas of what was to come and he could tell. As he let out a soft sigh, he continued to speak to me trying to seem caring. But I could feel the cold bitter bite of ever word said. He cared not.\n\n\"I love you but you are still a daughter, and therein lies the problem. No matter what you will never be the strong son I need to replace me when I am gone. I am sorry but this is where we must part ways. I do not have the heart to kill you myself, but fortunately for you, the forest will show you no such biast. It will be a natural, merciful ending. Good bye Lilith.\"\n\n\"Wait, Daddy, no!\" I screamed but he wouldn't stop. I wanted to chase him but I couldn't move. Everything in me froze with fear. Nothing could have prepared me for this. That was the last time I ever felt his touch. \n\nI was standing there in tears, frozen from the compacting fear, abandonment, and confusion. Suddenly through my tears I heard a low growl in the bushes. As I turned to look a pair of glowing eyes opened in the darkness, and just as they started to move closer...I woke up. \n\nDammit I hate that dream. Ugh. Why does it have to happen every damn night now? So now I'm stuck here just staring around the dark forest again. Yay. I turn my head to look at my pack, yup they're all out like lights. They should be sleeping well though, we've had quite the feasts lately. Several moose happened to wander near us just in time for the celebration. \n\nThe forest was quite still tonight. It was a rare occasion to enjoy a night of near silence among the woods. No angry barks from fighting, no cries of help from prey, barely even the coo of an owl. The moon was bright tonight, it lit up the woodland floor in patches through the tree tops making beautiful silver spotlights for the lightning bugs and moths to dance in. A slight breeze granting small reprieve from the summer heat in intervals. Yea it sure was a beautiful night.\n\nSoon my head began to wander back to old memories. Maybe it was the serenity of the night that brought it about, who knows. From being found by the pack as a child and earning my survival amongst them through blood and feud and will, to earning my respect as their leader by breaking the neck of the one before me as he struggled for life in my grasp before the pack. There has always been one memory that stands out amongst them all though, I can't help but wander back to it time and time again, like a movie in my mind.\n\n*It was a bright spring day four winters after being immersed into the pack. It was time to hunt and they awaited my contribution with anticipation. Only I had never contributed before. I was a mere child barely 13 winters old. But a choice is not given in the wild, you must do if you are to survive. If you are to be strong. \n\nI waited in the bushes for hours that morning with the smell of doe piss eminating from me, being carried by the wind for all the bucks to smell. About midday when the sun was highest in the sky, a large buck finally appeared. He nibbled the grass in the calmness of the grove, unsuspecting of my eyes watching him from a distance. This was it. My moment of glory in the eyes of the wolves. I will kill this beast and bring its carcass to the pack as a feast, no as a sign. A sign that just because I look differently that does not mean I cannot earn my place and keep just like any of them. \n\nThe breeze is gentler now, barely a movement through the wood of the forest. The ground is firm underneath me as I dig my toes and my fingers deep into the dirt, readying my pounce. With one swift motion I fling my body through the air, hurling myself at the deer with all my might. And I land directly on its back, immediately wrapping one arm firmly around the neck and grabbing its right horn with my other hand. I surprised even myself in all honesty. My body had become more conditioned by the harsh world of the forest than I thought. The beast fought with ferocity, kicking and flailing desperately in an attempt to get me off of him. In the struggle the deer flings his head back headbutting me right in the face. For a second my arms start to go limp, my vision starts to waver and I hear my father's voice in the impending blackness telling me he knew I would never have the strength a son could offer. I cannot let this be so. Adrenaline floods my veins giving me a feeling I cannot even put into words and I regain my grip on the throat and horn of my prey. \n\n*That's right, he's my prey, dammit! And I'm going to kill him!*\n\nWith all my strength I rip back on his left antler twisting his neck around and stunning him, but fell off in the process. The buck reared up ready to come down on my skull with his hoof. Just as I expected. With a swift motion I roll to the side hop up and kick in the side of the buck's leg, snapping it under his weight. As he falls to the forest floor and rithes in pain I can see the fear and the question in his eyes. Knowing this is it but holding on for hope that he can overcome. He cannot. With a solid kick I break his jaw, another and his skull is fractured and a section of antler snaps off from the impact of getting his head kicked into the rock underneath him. I looked at the antler, then back to the buck twitching on the ground. And with that I took the antler and put it deep into his throat. Blood carved a beautiful crimson river through the forest floor, shining in the bright spring sun the whole way. \n\n\"I will decide what I am and am not strong enough to do father.\"\n\nThe trek back is tiring as I drag the deer back to my den. Upon arriving I stand before them blood soaked and victorious. They watch me closely as I drop the deer before them and slightly drop their heads in approval. From that point on even the leader offered me respect.*\n\nMy head was clear now, my mind calm. Thinking back to that hunt I couldn't help but let out a smile. If only you could see me now father, see how wrong you truly were. Here I lay with a pack of wolves, as tranquil as a bear in hibernation; for they know that I am no wolf at all, but something all together....different.\n\n\"One day father...one day.\" Still grinning gleefully, I closed my eyes and drifted back off to sleep.",
"\"She slept with wolves without fear, for the wolves knew a lion was among them.\"\n\nSarah frowned and looked at Jim. She blushed.\n\n\"Jesus Frank, you embarrass me. I know you don't like Sarah, but please let it be, just for one day will you? Jeez man...\" Jim whispered showing his fangs to\nFrank, his brother, who sat to his right. \n\nSarah was Jim's new girlfriend, and she was also a lioness. Traditionally wolves and lions didn't get along together very well, but to Jim that was something of the past. Times change. But Frank was old school and he would use any opportunity to show that he opposed that relationship.\n\n*This is the perfect start to yet another interesting Thanksgiving family dinner....*, Thought Jim.\n\n\nNote: I'm sorry, I'm in a silly mood today, great prompt idea though :)",
"She could feel the soft heat of the breath warming her cold neck. Snow fell lightly through the trees and the full moon penetrated softly through the thick swell of pines, giving light in columns where breaches in the needles gave entrance. A soft heat and a low growl, would he really make his move in the dead of night, such cowardice, but the others, weak as they were would follow.\n\n\nHer muscles tightened and flexed as she flung herself into the air, spinning her body around to meet the silver haired wolf who would be king. The light of the moon reflected off of his canines as they dove to where her neck had been only moments ago. Time felt slow as her gaze righted to the wolf and then flipped beyond. Landing with her feet and hands stable against the ground she brought her eyes to meet his and snarled.\n\n\nThe others yawned and stumbled awake at the disturbance, but quickly pounced to attention. Though loyal to me, they would not interfere, this must be settled between the two of us. This had been a long time coming and only the victor would emerge with their survival.\n\n\nWe held, apace from each other and circled, our teeth bared for the show. Prudence dictated that I wait for his move, but what leader waited for prudence?\n\n\nHe anticipated my leap, claws unfurled at me and maw opened wide for my neck, but my lunge was from an atypical angle and his claws passed over my flesh, barely scratching off the top layer of flesh. As he passed I threw my arms at him and ripped at the soft underbelly he exposed with his leap and grabbed at his hind legs, locking him into my vice. He tried in vain to pull his head around and snap at me, but my arms blocked and braced his muzzle against the ground.\n\n\nWith fear in his eyes he darted his gaze to me and found no remorse. Laying myself on top of his sideways turned body, and arms stretching his head out in front of him I brought my jaws down against the soft flesh of his neck. My teeth dug deep into the heat of of his life and his body erupted, spraying red lava across the silky whit snow and my face, and hair.\n\n\nI stared into his eyes as he convulsed, whimpered, and rolled his eyes up into his skull.\n\n\nGrowling I turned to the rest of the pack who shrunk away and averted their eyes.\n\n\nI looked to the moon and howled at the kill, the rest of the pack joining in with me, as much from fear as from joy. None would challenge me again for several seasons."
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[WP] Long, continuous vibrations are being felt all over the world. As the days pass, they worsen.
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"\"First time I noticed, old Tom handed me a pint and it shook in his hand. Thought the poor lad had Parkinson's or something! But it happened again. Round about every Sunday when I was in the pub. More or less every time, I'd be taking a sip and I'd spill it everywhere.\"\n\n\"The wife complains to me nearly every night now. They keep happening. That spice rack - the one I built for her for Christmas? - stupid thing just spills them out onto the counter. Fourteen jars smashed now so I've had to put a bar across it. It looks ugly now. Kitchen's a mess, we can't keep books on the shelves. Piles of them on the floor. And the telly stopped working. Now I have to read. Christ.\"\n\n\"Can't sleep anymore. Far worse than before, you know, daily. It's daily and it's nightly and it's awful.\"\n\n\"Still, when me and the wife have sex, she fuckin' *loves* it.\"",
"One pulse: That was all it took to bring the world to its knees for a day. A single, one second pulse was able to stop everything, traffic stuck on bridges, planes grounded on runways, people fleeing from skyscrapers. I can't blame them. When the air around you starts to vibrate like you are standing in front of a loudspeaker at a concert for no apparent reason, I think you are justified in panicking. Overall, that first pulse caused little damage. Some delicate stained glass shattered, thousands of car accidents, three or maybe four planes crashed on runways, nothing too major. The entire world felt this pulse, throbbing everywhere. \n\nThe second time, I figured people would adapt faster. Maybe get back to work after an hour or two. Instead, it was worse. Two days, two days of the world standing still! Businesses closed, highways stopped, planes grounded. This was a week after the first pulse! Only one week! It’s not like you can forget about that first pulse that quick! Granted, it was two pulses, probably about two seconds long and three seconds apart, which made the air ring like a plucked guitar string, but still, nothing had happened. We were all still there. Damages from those two pulses was more severe than the last pulse: Windows on the top floors of skyscrapers shattered, paintings and shelves fell down, millions of car accidents, some old TV towers collapsed. Again, not too bad. A unified task force was appointed to figure out the nature of these pulses. All we had to do was wait. They turned their instruments to the ground, and we all held our breath.\n\nThe next series was irregular. Almost a slow melody of five notes, no two the same length, no two the same pitch. Something a child might have composed. It occurred four days after the two pulses, and it seemed to be stronger. The pulses shook you down to the bones, all the way in your heart. The first set of deaths were directly attributed to this. The vibrations were too much for some of our older folks. The other damages were quite numerous. Several planes fell from the sky after the vibrations ripped the fuselages apart, a couple of buildings collapsed, the remaining windows across the world shattered. Overall, a global state of emergency. The task force turned up nothing. They said, with a 70 percent confidence in their numbers that the vibrations weren't coming from the ground. Something else was causing them. We braced ourselves for the next wave, surely to be worse than the previous ones.\n\nThe next day seemed to take an eternity. Injuries were patched up, roads were cleared, and emergency supplies were distributed. Several riots broke out. Then it came in: the pulses which would change everything: A single pulse, then something remarkable. The air was speaking. At least, that's what it felt like. The voice resonated everywhere around us, every corner of the earth, even within our own lungs. \"We are coming. We will be in contact.\" The voice was deep, with a remarkably fluent grasp of English. Preparations broke out immediately, preparations for war, attempts to train diplomats and leaders about what our best idea of \"intergalactic cultural competence\" was, conspiracy theories, Area 51, Roswell, the whole nine yards. \n\nThat was 50 years ago to this day. No other pulses, no spaceships in the sky, nothing. All we have is that promise made to us with our own air: \"We are coming.\" The conspiracy theorists have raged on and on, but I still think that somewhere, something is coming for us, and I'm not sure whether to greet them with open arms or to be terrified of the damage they can cause. I can’t tell you what to think, but I worry for humanity, whenever they decide to contact us again. You should too.\n"
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[WP] "I wasn't looking for a relationship either but then I met you."
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"I rest my head on his chest, closing my eyes and feeling comfort in his breathing, his chest rising and falling. I could feel the rays of sunlight on my face, warming certain parts of my body and his, the warm beams shooting through the blinds. \n\nI open my eyes as I feel him shift under me, his arm swinging around and running through my hair. I find my hand on his chest, feeling the rise along with my head, carefully mapping the grooves on his skin. \n\n\"Good morning.\" I hear from beside me, his sleepy voice bringing a welcomed break to the silence of the room. \n\n\"Morning.\" I reply, smiling, enjoying the contact of his body beside mine. \n\nHe reaches over to the beside table and grabs his phone, looking at the time then sighing heavily. I knew he had to go, that he had class in a few hours. Every bone in my body was waiting for him to declare it.\n\n\"I have to go before class starts, Finn.\" he says, confirming my fear, \"I'll see you again tonight for coffee?\"\n\n\"Yeah, sure.\" I reply quietly, moving off of my heated pillow. \n\n\"What's wrong?\" he asks, eyebrows raised. \n\nI stare off at the white wall in front of me, wondering how to gain the strength to reply to his question, or to just put it off. I open my mouth to speak, to dismiss him like every other night, but close it quickly. I don't want to be another lost memory. \n\n\"What are we, Jayson?\" I ask, my voice slow, almost a whisper, \"I don't know if I can be friends with benefits anymore.\" I finished, my stomach clenching and dropping, fear rising up my throat. \n\nJayson stares at me, and looks at his hands, now outside of the covers and sitting halfway up. \"I wasn't looking for a relationship, to be honest,\" he starts, my eyes staring at him hard, I could tell he wasn't finished talking, \"but, then I met you.\"\n\nI close my eyes and break into a small smile, \"No more friends with benefits?\"\n\n\nJayson shuffles over to me in the small bed, and wraps his arms around me, giving me a kiss on my forehead. It's not the first time he's done it, and I hope it's not the last. He rests his head on my shoulder, and speaks quietly, \"No. I... I don't think I want that anymore.\"\n\nI feel a weight lift from my mind, sighing in relief. *Finally.*\n\n***\n***\nwww.thearcherswriting.wordpress.com",
"I wasn't looking for a relationship either but then I met you. \nI wasn't expecting a friend but neither were you. \nThe house was cold, damp, and filthy. \nBut you didn't care, you sat right there with me. \nFood was scarce, and money was tight. \nYou always knew how to make things feel alright. \nTime went on and things improved. \nYou stuck by my side, even when I moved. \nThe years were long, but your's were longer. \nThe day you died, was hollow and somber. \nYou showed me what it meant to be brave. \nEvery now and then I come visit your grave. \nI lay on the ground next to your stone \nand tell you how my life has grown. \nYou were more to me than just a stray. \nI still think fondly of you to this day. \nyou were my dog until the end. \nMy hope, my strength, my best friend. \nYou weren't looking for a relationship either but then you met me. \nBut you found a friend and some company."
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[WP] You believe you are one of the last people alive on earth after an apocalypse. You have taken refuge in a building with a radio tower and have been broadcasting daily, imploring any survivors to come to you, and just talking. Your supplies have run out, and you broadcast one last time.
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"**[12:30pm]** Well I've been busting my ass for the last... you know what? I don't even know how fucking long it has been!! The last movie I remembered watching was that piece of shot GI Joe movie, you know? The one with Cha... mmm Chad? Chading? Channing! Yeah with that guy. If only I had know that the world was going to shit the next day, I've would've stayed at home and watched Seinfeld reruns... but what the hell I can't dwell in the past now. How can it feel like a long time ago when I don't even know what time it is anymore, all the batteries are dying, water has run out, food has run its course too. Fuck!!! IS ANYONE LISTENING OUT THERE!!!!...FUCK YOU! just standing there DOING SHIT all high and mighty!!! I KNOW YOU CAN FUCKING HEAR ME!! You can right? I mean I can't be the only person left, right? RIGHT!? \n\n**[2:30pm]** I...I'm sorry I didn't mean to yell, I'm just tired and hungry and sleepy and FUCKING ANGRY AT YOU!!! YOU SON OF A BITCH!!! YOU LEFT ME TO ROT ON THIS FUCKING PLACE!!! I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU! \n\n**[6:45pm]** Okay so uhm sorry again for that... anyways I found a record in one of the room while I was running around the building checking the generators. This one was marked with a cliche \"DO NOT OPEN\" in red, that for some stupid reason was enough for me to not open, so I'll leave it for later. As I was saying before, I checked the generators and they're going to run out of full in the next couple of hours... shit, so now Is as good of a time as any I think. I've practiced this for a couple of days now so here it goes. \n\n\"Hi my name is John S. Smith, I was an engineer for a small company, I had a good life by many standards. Had a wife, had a chi\".\n\n..God! I don't even remember their faces anymore, it's been such a long time in this empty building that in a strange way I feel like I am this building. I feel dark and empty inside, like my soul knows I don't have much left. I have stared into the abyss and not even the abyss has had the decency to stare back. I'm all alone now.You know what? Because YOU! You were supposed to show up, you were supposed to make this go away, and you never answered, and you know what? If you're out there and you're hearing this, this is my last message FUCK YOU, YOU COCKSUCKING SON OF A BITCH! I HOPE I SEE YOU IN HELL! But what is hell if not just another day alive in this forsaken place?\n\nAnyways where is that record again? Oh here we go...at least I'll have this song to keep me comfort for a couple of days, and I'm so nice of a person that I'm gonna share it with you... Okay so Ill hit play here and....* \" Never gonna give you up\" *No no no nonononono NOOOO!!!!!!!!!\n*\"Never gonna let you down\"* WHY OH GOD!? WHY!!!!!\n*\"Never gonna run around and desert you\"* PLEASE JUST GET ME OUT OF **[End of Transmission]**",
"One last time, me and ol' CB. I was down to my last can of Beans, not that it mattered anyway. The slow ticking of my geiger counter reminded me of that. I wouldn't make it much longer. I flicked the ignition and took the mic of my CB Radio: \"If anyone can hear this, this is *cough cough* Dean speaking. I took shelter in the Dunwhich Hospital. Please help ... \" In rage I threw the microphone against the windshield. It was hopeless. I coughed up more blood. \n \nI took my trusty .357 from my glovebox. Holding my grandads revolver to my head, cocking the hammer. I muttered: \"Time to say goodbye\" \n \nI wanted to pull the trigger, put an end to this misery. Just then my ol' CB sputtered and frizzled to life. \n \n... \n \nNever had the sound of helicopter blades brought more happiness to a man's life.",
"*Good morning, hypothetical listener, and welcome to the 273rd episode of Dan's Show. I am your host, Dan, broadcasting from the lovely Nighthawk Radio Tower in Nighthawk, Washington. It is a great honor to have your hypothetical ear for what might very well be our last episode broadcast from the United States. If you have been following the show regularly, you will remember that we have discussed going north often, especially since the Blight has reached our deceased southern neighbors at Loomis. So I would like to announce that our entire one-person radio crew is emigrating to Canada.*\n\n*The winter is coming to an end, and that means that the Blight is thawing. And today it took over the local Walmart, so I have suddenly run out of places to get cans and instant noodles.*\n\n*Since you are alive enough to listen to this broadcast, you have surely figured out that trying your luck with the Blight in an enclosed space is a poor idea. So you will understand my decision to move today.*\n\n*My destination is Chopaka, British Columbia. It is only 6-7 miles to the north-east, so I should reach it by the afternoon. If you are in the neighborhood, drop by, I'd love to take you out for a beer.*\n\n*Good luck and stay safe.*\n\nDan clicked off the microphone in front of him, leaned back in the large chair, and closed his eyes. Ok, you've talked the talk, now walk the walk.\n\nHe stood up and took one last look at the old studio. A broken glass pane separated him from the console room. The big rusty brown stain was still visible on the carpet where he found a corpse when he first got here. Other than that, the place was clean and comfortable. It almost started feeling like home... it provided for a surprisingly calm winter after the madness of the past summer and fall. The most peace and calm he'd gotten since everything started on the Fifteenth.\n\nDan sighed. Well, the apocalypse teaches you nothing quite as well as the sad fact that all good things have to come to an end. He went over to the corner, crouched and picked up his hunting rifle and backpack he prepared the night before.\n\nHe started to leave, but then paused in the doorway. He considered turning around and saying something sentimental to the empty room. You know, like in the movies. But he decided against it and walked on into the dangerously sunny spring day.\n\n*****\n\nHave idea, will continue later.",
"\"Evenin folks, this is your MC of Swing, MC Smith putting the pizaz back into the jazz. Bringing you the best tunes of the ages. You just heard 'Space Oddity' by the one and only Mr. Bowie. We're gonna go to a quick ad break, don't touch that dial.\"\n\nSmith kicked his legs up onto the desk as he flicked the dial that activated the ad reel. He took a slow drag of his cigarette and glanced at the window. Boards were still in place. Not that it really mattered anymore. Nobody was coming, and there wasn't anything he needed outside no more. The cattle he'd been minding had been taken in the night a few days ago, and he'd choked down the last of his MRE's this morning. He was a dreamer, but he knew his days were numbered without a miracle.\n\nNobody knew what the fucking things were that made the world this way.\n\nThey just crawled up out of the dirt and started maimin' and eatin' all in sight.\n\nIt wasn't fair, but what was.\n\nHe'd been a gambling man before this had all started. \n\nHe wasn't gonna go quietly. \n\nHe heard a quiet ding that signaled the ad ending, and made a decision.\n\nHe turned the dial he'd marked with a warning symbol, and grabbed the mic.\n\n\"Thanks for your patience guys and dolls. Now before we settle into the next tune, I gotta say a little somethin somethin'. I'm not gonna be able to broadcast this much longer, on account of these mud-eatin' bastards stealing my cattle. I'm broadcastin this little speech of mine on every damn frequency. If you murderous fucks are listening, and the sludge in your heads can even think, come and get me. I'll be waitin', with my shotgun sittin in my lap. If you're human, join me in this little shindig, we can at least groove till the end, baby.\"\n\nHe leaned back and blew a smoke ring as he reached for the shotgun under his desk.\n\n\"Anyway. Here's 'Redemption Song' by the one and only Bob Marley. MC Smith, riding it out with you, people of the world. Keeping the music alive one song at a time.\"",
"*A relevant comment in this thread was deleted. You can read it below.*\n\n----\n\nThe mountains don’t quite show the desolation of the city below. I guess you could say I was lucky I was on a work experience course in the radio station at the time of the bomb. Hearing your family die over the phone from radiation poisoning isn’t exactly pleasant though. \n\nI’ve never seen people willing to walk into something so deadly. Most of the people at the radio station ran straight back to the city, hoping to save their families, even if they knew the inevitable had occurred. A lot of them just left in the night after 3 days and urged me to go with them, in hope of finding something; anything. They never returned though and I never heard anything of them ever again. The last guy left apart from myself shot himself in the head in the bathroom. There was a cut in his neck though… I don’t really want to think about it. The smell was so bad after a while that I had to move the body somewhere. I thought that only happened in movies.\n\nThe first couple weeks were the hardest by a long way. I’m not going to lie in saying I cried a lot. Knowing a family member has died is a harrowing feeling, something most people experience, yet can’t explain. Knowing all of my family had died in that moment or in the weeks following in the most traumatising way possible is something I’m surprised I even lived through. In a way, I should have relished the supply levels during that time though, as we had plenty to go around during that time. [[Continued...]](http://www.resavr.com/comment/wp-believe-are-one-1816123)\n\n----\n\n\n*^The ^username ^of ^the ^original ^author ^has ^been ^hidden ^for ^their ^own ^privacy. ^If ^you ^are ^the ^original ^author ^of ^this ^comment ^and ^want ^it ^removed, ^please [^[Send ^this ^PM]](http://np.reddit.com/message/compose?to=resavr_bot&subject=remove&message=1816123)*",
" It almost seemed a dream now, a world with human interaction had been replaced with solitude. \n\n Maybe I was just being a baby but it wasn't like there was anyone left to judge me. I grabbed the microphone again rhythmically plugging all its respective cables into the dashboard of the studio.\n\n The large LED clicked on as I flicked a few more switches. I leaned closer to the microphone then I ever had as if it was whispering an answer to my problems. \n\n \"If anyone can hear this, My name is Mark Florance, I am currently sheltered in the WRMB radio tower, I have enough supplies for...\" My voice trailed off a I looked at my remaining rations, Half of a week old apple, 3 bottles of water, and a box of saltine crackers. As the smell of the Apple reached my nostrils I returned to the microphone. \n\n \"Anyways I am located at the WRMB radio tower, please come as soon as possible, I don't know how much longer I can take this\" I flicked one of the hundreds of switches over the dashboard and the sharp static emanating from the mic cut off. \n\n I then realized how reliant on the microphone I had become, The hum had become the closest thing to human speech I had, I swear I could hear voices in it, telling me the lies I wanted to hear. It was how I could cope. \n\n Slowly but surely I returned the switch to its upright position, Sure enough the hum returned.My face was against the input now so I could be sure to hear it's comforting words\n\n\n\"You know you mean the world to me right?\"\n\n\"...\"\n\n\"No you're not getting fat\"\n\n\"...\"\n\n\"Im not Lieing!\"\n\nChuckling to myself the echo's of my laughter bounced around the steel frame of the building\n\n\"...\"\n\n\"Well I don't know what I would do If I lost you\"\n\n\"...\"\n\n\"Don't say that.\"\n\n\".....\"\n\n\"You're right I should get some rest\"\n\n I placed the microphone down and rested my head on the desk, letting the electric hum wash over me.",
"\"My name is Allan Lewinsky. For ten years, I've been broadcasting from the St. Louis radio antenna, located right off of Brown Street. I'd begin everyone of my daily broadcasts the same way, 'Good Morning and welcome to the final station, the last hope for all those who might remain out there.' But sadly the final station is broadcasting for the final time. For ten years, I've made this broadcasting station my home. I built a guest room... for anyone that wished to have it. I always had spare rations on the off chance somebody showed up, but nobody did and I don't have those rations anymore. For ten years I'd ask anybody remaining to come to the broadcasting station or just give me a sign that I'm not the last one alive. Nobody has done that in the ten years of this station. I promise you, if there is anyone there, that all I wanted was to know you. I wanted to know that I wasn't going to be the one to see the final sunset, the one to say the final word... I didn't want to have the last laugh, never did. I just wanted to know you. I've waited ten years for you and I've never been able to even say hello or get your name. My name is Allan Lewinsky, I was born in this city and I lived in it for my entire life. I married a beautiful woman... her name was Elise. She died along with the others the first day. Today I turn sixty-three and I don't care. What are celebrations if nobody else is there to celebrate with. My name is Allan Lewinsky. Today there is a slight chance of rain. I am the last human alive, I saw the final sunset, said the last word, and had the... last laugh. Thank you, and goodnight.\"",
"All right, I'm still here. Uh...it-it's 4 October 2018. Tues...Tues...Tuesday, I think. Thursday maybe. I only keep track so I have something else to think about. First Sergeant John O'Hara checking in.\n\nUh, two? Two years I think, since the world shifted. Two years, thirteen days. I was deployed when it happened, so it must've been two...whatever. Uh.\n\nThis broadcast is to any and all survivors. I haven't seen human in...hell, a year? Eighteen months? Whatever. Anyway, here I am. I'm at the Williams Building, looking over downtown. I set up shop here a little over a week ago, only thing here was this radio. I don't even know if it works. Um....I uh....found the bar, last night. Only thing to drink, heh.\n\nUm. I'm moving to the Mayo, hoping to find something there. If you're listening, I'll be there at 0400 tomorrow, hoping to dodge the solar slag but still get some sleep tonight. Anyone's welcome, I guess. Ever you Jackal bastards. No food left for you to steal anyway. Um....hold on, I don't really....Sorry. If you want someone to starve with, you know where I'll be. My only request is if you kill me, don't waste me. Still some good meat left on me. \n\nChallenge word is Star, reply is Texas. I'll see you there, maybe. Good luck, if not. \n\nO'Hara, signing off.",
"The trek stops today, whether I want it to or not. The end already came for the rest of them, and I can feel it catching up to me as well. I've forgotten what day it is at this point, how could I possibly tell? I suppose this is how I die, doomed to starve in this eternal night. Alone, separated from the husks of humanity, in this god forsaken wilderness. \n\nWhen the first meteor hit, half of eastern Asia was taken out by the tsunamis alone. The second one came a few days later, an asteroid 300km in diameter smack dab into eastern Hungary. \n\nWhen people started coming to their senses, that's when the looting began. Cities were ghost towns within weeks, devoid of food and water. Like Pompeii, 2000 years ago, the ash cloud plowed through all living organisms in its way. By 2 weeks later, anyone that hadn't evaded the cloud was dead. \n\nI had batteries for months and food for years, and now I have batteries for perhaps a couple more hours. I stopped using my flashlight when it stopped mattering what was or wasn't in the dark, but my radio was always on. Today, it would have to go too. As I scroll through the channels of white noise one final time, the sound of music shocks me to attention. Is this it? Have I finally found someone to share in my affirmed destruction? I tune in the station only to hear:\n\n\n\"We're no strangers to looooooove...\"",
"Is this madness or is this what has kept the madness at bay? Listeners...\n\nHeh.\n\nListeners, I ask you this!\n\nTalking away all this time, every little thing I do. Well I'll tell you what I'm doing right now. I've been saving this bottle for a special occasion. It's been sat there in front of me all this while. I was going to share it with you, listeners. That was my plan.\n\nIt's kept me company. In talking to you I've been talking to the little man in his hat, smiling at me from the label there. I admit I cheered when I found him. Almost as much as I did when I found this place....\n\nWell, here it goes; just you and me left now, smiling man! Come on listeners!. You'd better get moving if you want a taste of this, because I do not plan on making it last. I have had enough of making things last. You'd be surprised how many drinks you can get out of coffee granules, how long one tin of old, grey beans can last...\nYes, I have had enough of making things last. I'm surprised you can't hear my stomach growling listeners! It's been having a go at me like that for so long now. I wonder how quickly I'd get drunk on a stomach that empty. Guess I'm finding out.\n\nDamn I can't remember the last time I had alcohol... but I remember the last time I was really drunk. Back when all this started... yes, listeners, I had the same plan back then! Drink myself in to oblivion! But dammit I was one of the lucky ones. I woke up with that sick relief. I remember the headache too, oh hell that headache...\nMy head's aching already, hah! I've become such a lightweight in my old age. Oh, listeners... you'd be laughing at me now. Maybe I should be laughing. Sad old man talking to himself all this time...\n\nDear god this stuff burns. Warms you from the inside. You know, it's as good as I remember.\n\nI'm doing well for somebody so out of the habit! Half gone already! You'd better hurry up!\n\nAnd wouldn't you know, I'm running out of things to say... not often I get stuck for words. So maybe I should just finish up. Finish this bottle, finish this broadcast. \n\nYeah, you'd better hurry up... you really don't know what you're missing, listeners...",
"Lips cracked and dry, strength failing, he pressed on the button one last time. \n\"Can anyone hear me? This is Buddy. My daddy used to say these things let people talk to each other, but I ain't never heard no one. I don't think I'll be talkin' for much longer.\" \n\"Never knew how this whole mess started. I remember movin' around a lot as a kid, me and my daddy. He tried to raise me right, teach me things I'd need to know, like readin' and artimetic and all that junk. Don't seem so important to me, but that was what my daddy taught. Don't remember how he died, I just remember wakin' up one day thinking 'well little Buddy, you're on your own now'.\" \n\"You ever seen any of them movie things? They used to say 'women and kids first' in those. Well, I don't know how it used to be, but it sure wasn't like that when I was a kid. Had to steal for every scrap food I could get, 'till I met Stripes. I called him Stripes 'cause, well, he didn't have no way to tell me his name, and he had stripes. He and me, we got along like peanut butter and jelly, that's what Mister McDoodle. Not sure what jelly is, but I found some peanut butter here, and it sure don't remind me of Stripes. Guess he was the jelly.\" \n\"We used to steal things for Mister McDoodle, things made of metal and paper and other junk you couldn't eat. Course, that didn't matter to Mister McDoodle, he was a big enough guy already. Probaly would've ate Stripes too, but Stripes and me were partners. I'd find a hole for him to slip in a place, and he'd find a door for me.\" \n\"We did that for a while, 'till Mister McDoodle ended up dead. Not sure what happened, just that we went to his place one day, and this big, mean looking fella named Razor said he was in charge. Told me he was goin' to sell me, and eat Stripes. Well Stripes, he didn't like the sound of that, no sir. He jumped right at Razor's face, and was bitin' and clawin' and messin' him up something awful. I grabbed him and ran as hard as I could, but Razor must've bit him or somethin', cause he was bleedin' all over me. I buried him near where I found him, and a nice lady there, she wrote 'Stripes the Cat' for me on a sign, cause Mister McDoodle said Stripes was a polecat.\" \n\"I wandered around after that, never stayin' no where too long. Everywhere I'd go, I'd always be told there was no room or food or nothing for me. I found this place, and I remember what my daddy used to tell me, about growin' up in a sit-ee. Boy, I had such a fear of these big old buildings, but there sure was a lot of stuff in them. Used to dress up in fancy clothes and eat fancy dinners and watch fancy movies, all alone. Got lonely after a time, and I found a picture here that showed a man talking, so I'd hope there'd be a friend here.\" \n\"Been a few years now, and, well, I've run out of things to eat. Tried growing stuff, but that rock road was no good for plantin'. No animals here to hunt. Thought about leavin', but, I was so lonely, I hoped someone would hear me one day. I guess that ain't gonna happen. Maybe someone else will come along after I'm gone. Maybe you'll have better luck than I did. I'll make sure to turn it off, so it has some power for you. That's what Mister McDoodle always said to do, turn off machines when you ain't usin' 'em. I... I guess that's it. Goodbye out there. I sure do miss you Stripes.\" \nBuddy laid his head down, and with the last of his strength, flipped the power switch on.",
"\"This is Rocking Rob coming to you from the huge antennae, This next one goes out to all the lovers!\" The radio in the small bus crackles to life. The driver, Pablo, immediately it up. They had been combing the dessert looking for this damn guy all week.\n\nAfter the bombs dropped, about a week later actually, it began to snow. The snow was black and fell unevenly. It was impossible to distinguish road from earth, so the small dirt road winding away from the interstate was invisible to the small rescue party.\n\n\"Damn it, Sean! Shut UP back there. We don't need your negativity!\"\n\n\"Listen, Pablo: this dude's dead. There's no point anymore. Just listen to his voice. Weak and quiet. We've gone through half the gas we picked up in Reno and almost all of the food we brought. It's a waste!\"\n\n\"Sean, calm down.\" A soft hand caressed his face and turned it to meet its owner. \"We decided we didn't want one person to have all the power at the start of this adventure, didn't we? That's what ended the world. That sure as hell won't be what ends us.\"\n\n\"Carla, that's different. I'm trying to get you guys to see reason. You're trying to save everyone when we clearly can't.\"\n\n\"Wait! Shhh!\" Pablo turned the radio up loud, but only static could be heard. Soon, a feeble voice wimpered over the radio. \"Please...\" A thud was heard, followed by quiet sobs.\n\n\"Damn it, he's dying! We gotta find him now\"\n\n\"This is all the more reason to leave him! Even if we DO find him, could we help him at this point!?\"\n\n\"EVERYONE SHUT YOUR FUCKING MOUTHS!\" Carla thundered. The other two silenced themselves hurriedly. \"We'll spend one more day looking for him. Sean, you can drive for now. Pablo? Down a bottle of water. I am going to sleep. Don't make any sharp turns and keep that radio on.\n\nThe survivors continued to search in silence. The radio sobs got quieter and weaker. But they searched on.",
"\"This is Rockin' Rob Bower coming to you live from the huge antennae, This next song is going out to all the lovers. God damn it, is anyone out there, I need help. I am out of stuff, the vending machine is empty and the my sink filled with water, its all gone. If anyone can hear me I am at the antennae thing in the middle of the desert. God damn it help me!\n\nRocking Rob was lucky, sort of. He was out in the desert doing peyote when the first bomb was dropped on what he could assume was Los Angeles and then some more dropped just South, possibly in San Diego and he eventually figured the glow to the East was Las Vegas. \n\nIts an odd sensation to watch the deaths millions of people thinking that it was the most beautiful thing he has ever seen. \n\nIt was quite spectacular, would up vote, but now Rob may be the last person on Earth. But that's not going to last long, he is trapped hundred of miles from nowhere with no food and no water and nuclear rage fire happening all around him. \n\nToo start with Rob wasn't a skinny dude. The amount of mass he dropped though in such a short amount of time was staggering. The contents of the vending machine did not last a week. It seemed the processed food just made him hungrier. \n\nWhen it was gone he emptied the fridge in the small kitchenette in the shack attached to the antennae. The shack had a dozen cubicles shoved into it, one sound booth and three offices all marked with some degree of management. He found and ate condiment packets. Not one thing that once had food in it was safe from being licked clean. \n\nOut of desperation he has tried to set traps for bugs and rodents. The flesh was willing but he was a complete moron when it came to woodsy stuff.\n\nAt first he thought being in a radio antennae would be cool, until he discovered there was no music to be had. It was a weather station broadcasting regional updates. \n\nIn a desert! \n\nThat had to be the most boring job. Probably almost as boring as sitting out here waiting to die. \n\nRocking Rob lowers his head. Its been two weeks since had any food. he has been thinking about cutting flesh from his leg and maybe getting a couple more days off the calories. \n\nHe wont do it though he will hold out hope.\n\nThe air outside is filled with black snow. He was afraid to walk through the dark desert looking for rescue, but now it's too late.\n\nHis hand trembles under the effort to squeeze the talk button on the microphone. \n\nHe whispers, \"please,\" before the strength to leaves his body. \n\nIn terms of struggle Rob did not put up much of one and maybe the world is better off for it.",
"\nLooking out the window onto the ravaged, desolate street, I took a deep breath. The smell of mildew and musty wood engulfed me, a scent I had learned to ignore. As the reality of the situation settled in my thoughts for what could be the final time, I breathed out in a heavy sigh.\n\n\"Is this really it? After everything that happened, all the shit I went through, this is the end?\" I thought.\n\nIt was unbelievable. Despite it being so long, everything up until now just seems so... short. Time doesn't really mean much when you're so close to the end. Everything just feels so empty. Your thoughts, your surroundings, even your memories.\n\nWhat does any of that mean when nobody else is there?\n\nI looked at the microphone sitting on the oak table, surrounded by dials, half of which I didn't even understand. Was this final endeavor pointless? Should I even make the effort, simply because the only thought with any content I can manage to muster is \"What if?\", just to disappoint myself again and again?\n\nI picked up the opened, half empty can of chili sauce, the rancid aroma piercing my nostrils. Returning it, I went back to the window and pried it open to retrieve some water. Being careful not to collect too many debris, I picked the mug up off of the windowsill and dipped it into what used to be a flower box.\n\nI returned to the desk, pouring the water into the can. I swished it around trying to retrieve as much of the contents as I could, then took a sip of the disgusting solution. Holding back the desire to gag, I set the solution back down. \n\nI looked back to the window, the smell of the seared landscape fresh from the recent rain. The smell that reminded me every day, nothing would ever be the same. I never understood that sentiment until it happened. \n\nReturning my attention back to the microphone, I pressed the button that had become so worn down from my countless efforts to reach anyone. My need to be choosy had long been eradicated, at a certain point I realized I'd rather be murdered than spend another day alone.\n\nI recited the oration I had burned into my mind; \"Hello. I am a survivor of the apocalypse that occurred in 2015. If anyone can hear this, I am located at the Radio Station Office in Virginia Beach, near the 264 and 64 Interchange. From there, go east and take the 15A exit to Greenwich road, and I am on Ivy court.\"\n\nTaking a breath, I continued trying to keep my speech clear and audible; \"If you can hear this, respond on frequencies of 30-300 Hz. I have shelter, electricity, and enough food t-\"\n\nI paused. I got up and rummaged through all my things. Boxes, crates, closets. I looked through everything, and then I looked again. I already knew what I would find: nothing. I looked anyways. Detached, I walked slowly towards the microphone, and took a seat, glancing at the putrid can of chili water.\n\n\"S... sorry about that... I have enough food to.. uhh... to last for a few.... for a few days. Please. uh, please respond. I'm.. just so fucking *lonely*!\" \n\nChoking back tears and breaking my own superficial procedure, I attempted to compose myself and stammered; \"If anyone, literally anyone can hear me, I need *someone*. I've been alone for more months than I can count, I don't know what to do anymore, I'm scared. Please, I'm begging you. I've been doing this for so long, it's all been for nothing. I've experienced failure day in and out, again and again. Anyone...\"\n\nMy face became hot, and my chest tingling. I slammed the table, screaming into the microphone \"WHY? WHY WON'T YOU ANSWER? WHAT DID I DO TO DESERVE THIS? I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING WRONG! I didn't do anything...\"\n\nI was broken. Sobbing on the table for God knows how long. \"fuck you..\" I stuttered out. \"fuck you, fuck you fuck you FUCK YOU FUCK YOU!\" I shouted, slamming my hands against the table, as everything clattered atop it.\n\nMy eyes filled with tears, I stopped lying to myself. This was really it. I wiped my face, feeling like a golf ball was stuck in my throat. I looked around the room, and I saw it. The can, spilled onto the floor. In reality, it probably didn't matter anyways. The only purpose that served was a slap in the face to my endeavor.\n\nMy eyes drifted, focusing on the lid, sharp jagged edges glistening from the dreary light entering the window.\n\n\n***\n\nThis is my first time doing something like this. Any advice would be appreciated, not sure how much I should put here in this... footnote?"
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[WP] "I know it's impossible, but these tunnels look man made."
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"\"Why'd it be impussible if they're resemblins' man-made tunnel-hulls?\" said the Goblin who literally just finished building the underground tunnel system of the silver mine.\n\nThe head investor of the refinery company adjacent to the mountain, just shrugged his shoulders.\n\n\"I don't know. I mean, it just seems... Why did I say that?\" he said, scratching his head.\n\nThe short green beast nodded in agreement, \"Sure is a stupid thing to say, mister. That yer way ter strike up chatter with yer new neighburs? Fancy a pipe?\"\n\nThe Goblin pulled out a long hollowed tube of wood from his tattered pant-pockets, stretching his arms to give it to the man before pulling his own short smoking-piece from the back of his overalls. \n\nJohnathon the Human Investor sighed and pulled out his little flint lighter, a new invention by the magicians down by the town of Nobody-Gives-A-Shit-Shire, striking a light and swirling around the bowl of the pipe's endpiece.\n\n\"Wonderful weather we're having, isn't it?\" John asked.\n\n\"Tryin' ter change the subject, aye? Ain't fergettin' that anytime in the nigh-future, ye hear?\"\n\n\"Please, never bring it up again.\"\n\n\"It's funny, 'I knuws it's impussible, but these tunnels luuk man made.' Ya be jabbin' like a twat that thinks it's difficult ter imagine that a fifty-pence whure's a virgin.\"\n\n\"Isn't it?\" John puffed a dark cloud right before his heavy eyes.\n\nThe Goblin turned to the man with a raised eyebrows and cleared the wax out of his own ears with a filthy nail. He then proceeded to scoop the dust, hair, and wax into pipe bowl before delivering a reply.\n\n\"Isn't what?\"\n\n\"Can't a fifty-pence whore be a virgin?\"\n\nShort-and-Green snickered to himself under his tightly-closed yellow fangs. \"... Yer duun had yerself scammed by a cunt with a pig placenta in her cunt, Juhnathun.\"\n\n\"Yeah? Well, you can't pronounce 'o's.\" Johnathon huffed, blowing a clod of smoke into the Goblin's smirking face.\n\n\"Hey! That's a medical sickness mather's given ter me! Arsehull!\"\n\n\"Who? Sorry, would you oblige through reconveying your words?\" said the human, emphasizing the O's on every word.\n\n\"Piss uff and fuck yerself.\"\n\n",
"“I know it’s impossible, but…” I said, hoping I wouldn’t sound crazy. “But what?”, “Just hear me out on this one,” I continued, trying to grasp at the right wording. “Alright, alright, already. Just spit it out.” This was it, no turning back from this one. “I think these tunnels are man made.” There was a silence. Not any normal silence, but something more sinister. At this point we had both stopped. There was nothing in sight but two cones of soft light reaching towards the darkness that now seemed to go on forever. “No. No, no way. They couldn’t be, this entrance was sealed off for thousands of years, the samples we sent back to the lab said so. There can’t be anything in here. There never was anything in here.” I could see in Marley’s eyes that he himself doubted what he had just said. “These walls are too smooth. This isn’t like any cave we’ve ever been in before.” Marley tripped. He stood up holding something. It was a battery. “Is this one of yours?” He asked me, I had never seen eyes wider than his. I replied slowly, “No. I didn’t bring D batteries in my bag today.” His hand fell limp, and the battery hit the cave floor. a metallic clanging echoed as it rolled down the sloped corridor. “It was warm. T-that battery. It was warm.” Marley, was still wide-eyed and shivering. “We need to head back.” He said. “No, I think we’re close to somethi-”, “No!” Marley yelled. It echoed through the caves along with the metallic rolling of the battery, ringing off into the distance. Again there was silence. Marley started up again, “We need to go back to-” “Stop.” I said quietly. The battery’s rolling had abruptly stopped. Suddenly, Marley clutched his shoulder and let out a scream. I heard it fall to the floor. There it was. The battery. I held it up to show him. He looked at me, eyelids no longer visible, and then ran off in a full sprint, throwing his pack into me and knocking me down the slippery cave floor. The floor got slicker as I went on, my flashlight cracked and I felt the plastic from the lens stick into my sides. I tried to scramble to my feet but to no avail, it was too steep. I hit the bottom after what seemed like minutes of sliding. I opened my eyes checking myself for injuries. I was relieved that I seemed to make it out with some minor bruises, but what I saw next was like something out of a horror movie. It was blood. The floor was slick with blood. I stood up and looked around. The caves were perfect. They were perfectly straight, smooth and polished as marble, and cut off at perfect angles, but most of all they were bright. There were no light sources to be seen, but everything was as bright as day. Down a corridor of white walls and a scarlet floor, was a door. I don’t know how I knew it was a door, because it was like nothing I had ever seen before. It was blacker than night and seemed to pulse. As a matter of fact, the walls were moving back and forth. Swaying, as if they themselves were breathing. Something rolled through the door. I walked toward the door. Step after step reminded me of the grisly situation that I had landed in. I walked toward the wall with the dark door, not knowing what to expect. Suddenly, inexplicably, I was in front of the door. On the floor, seeming to float on the surface of the bloody floors, clean as if it was just out of the pack was the battery. I picked it up, but quickly dropped it. It was white hot and vibrating. It stopped vibrating and I tried to pick it up again. It was freezing cold and I was suddenly sliding down an all too familiar cave floor. Again I hit the bottom and it was, without a doubt the same corridor. In my hand the battery was heating up. The wounds in my side had healed, and the burns were gone from my hand. I looked back up the cave from whence I came. The battery was gone from my hand and I heard a ringing from the cave. It sounded too familiar. At my feet the battery fell down. I thought it would be impossible, but I threw the battery up the cave. I heard a scream and scuffling. Someone was sliding down the cave towards me.\n\nPS: Thanks for the idea for my school essay OP",
"John crawled into a dark tunnel lit just barely by the gleaming moon behind him. He had been moving for days, in the dying wasteland that he and his family had called home, and what mankind called Earth. Yet, John way dying, his sight becoming dimmer with the passing of every bleak, desolate day.\n\nHe began to cry, tears rushing down his now cracked, dust-stained face. He couldn't help but stare at the crude etching on the tunnel's edge. To any bystander, the scratches looked like a series of meaningless numbers, but to him, it was a sign, filled with lost hope. \n\n--------------------------------------------------------------*5/12*-------------------------------------------------------\n\n\"Honey, how was work today,\" Asked Linda, trying her best to conceal the despondent nature of her voice.\n\n\"Please, lets just not talk about it. Just because we're married, that doesn't mean you need to try to say all this meaningless crap,\" Said John, \"I'm going upstairs. Don't come.\"\n\nJohn began to walk away, without turning his back once, ever so slightly thumping the worn wooden floor just as to make his extreme frustration apparent. \"You know, why do we always have to do this? It was 10 years ago John, when will will you forgive me?\" Asked Linda as she began to raise her voice, \"When can we become a couple again? At least today, don't you remember? May 12th, its our anniversary.\"\n\n\"SHUT UP YOU BITCH!\" Yelled John, becoming belligerent,\"YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT I'VE BEEN THROUGH BECAUSE OF YOU, WHAT OUR REPUTATION, MY REPUTATION HAS BEEN THROUGH! DON'T YOU EVER FUCKING MENTION THAT PIECE OF SHIT DATE AGAIN.\"\n\nLinda collapsed on the floor, sobbing as her tears spilled on to their floor. John continued to yell, and then left the room, this time taking anything he saw and smashing it against the floor while violently stomping as he left the room.\n\nYet, paradoxically, that's when everything collapsed. When billions would cry tears for their love ones, and then die off within the coming days. Global warming struck quickly, with tornadoes and hurricanes and earthquakes and tsunamis and massive storms that destroyed the entire planet within days, along with Linda.\n\nJohn heard a deafening sound approaching, and at that moment, the tsunami struck his house, tearing down his entire life with it. Planks were ripped from their foundations, as trees were slammed against houses in an onslaught that destroyed everything in its path. As John was running downstairs, he was hit with a large plank in the gut, and collapsed onto the stairs.\n\nJohn woke up to find nothing. Nothing was there. No one was there. Linda wasn't there. It looked as if had god had leveled all of earth in a massive act of vengeance even the cruelest mind could not fathom. For as far as the eye could see, there was not one standing structure - it was all gone.\n\nImmediately, John got up, and then fell back down as a sharp searing pain shot through his left leg. There was blood everywhere. So, John began to crawl. \"Linda!\" John howled, \"LINDA!\" Yet, there was no response. \n\nJust as John began to give up, he felt something on his leg. It was soft, yet coarse at the same time. He could feel the individual ridges of skin touch his leg as blood and sweat mixed, and even more pain pierced his now exhausted self. He looked behind him, and saw a body.\n\nNo, this was not a body. It was a corpse. There was no face. Only a lower body, the head had been torn off. John was mortified. He began to sob. What had he done just a few hours ago. The true extent of his actions began to sink in. Why had he acted that way? Why had he been so horrible? Was it his fault? Should he have forgiven her? So many questions, yet no one to answer. John sunk even deeper into his depression, fueled by rage, yet also a sense of nihilism. A realization that there was no hope, that this was possibly it.\n\nAnd as he collapsed on the rocky surface below him in exhaustion, he didn't feel the jagged, dusty surface of the rocks, but instead felt a smooth substance, composed of hundreds of small strands. \"Hair, HAIR!\" John yelled out to the world. He looked down and saw Linda. This time, more tears streamed down his already moist face, this team tears of joy. Yet, they soon turned dark, into such tears that anyone standing a mile away could have felt the sadness emanating from John's essence. Because, there was a head. There was a head, only a head. John gasped and fell backwards, crying tears of sadness, despondence, as if there was nothing to live for anymore, as if it was all over forever.\n\n---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\nJohn went further into the tunnel. He found more etchings, incomprehensible, but certainly only possible through the work of a human being.\n\nFor a second John experienced hope. Were there other humans? Were they alive? \"Alive!\" he yelled in pure joy, \"Alive! Oh what a relief.\"\n\nYet there was no response. John then called out, \"Linda?\" He got progressively louder, repeatedly calling out, \"Linda, I know you're there! Anyone, please.\" And then, he heard a voice. Feminine, smooth, soft, beautiful. \n\n\"Oh yes! How long I have waited for this moment!\" Yet, another voice, this time even higher was heard. John looked behind him and saw a small frog making random noised, and as he called out over and over again, all he heard now were the frog and his own hopeless echoes.\n\nJohn lay there for a while, and then left, continuing to wander aimlessly, thinking about that one meaningless carving he had found on the wall of a dark tunnel, in the desolate post-apocalyptic world humans, he, had created.\n ",
"The surveyor-drone's first video feed inside the atmosphere of the planet revealed low-rising structures on the coast of its largest continent, primitive huts of a budding civilization.\n\nDoc Kari sighed. This was going to be a hell of a lot of paperwork even if they ignored the Contact-Code violations that some of the rookies on the team had made, eager to be part of a Cataloging expedition. He gave a brief order for the surveyor-drone's operator to have it zoom in on the coast as the scouting party drew out the calculations to land their craft. Reaching into his suit's chest compartment, he drew out his stylus and computer pad making lazy sketches of the landscape he could see in the blurry photos provided by their cheap surveyor-drone. The rest of the research team poked fun at him for it, but it offered a nostalgic reminder of his childhood in the poor inner city caves of Mons Olympus, where commodities like graphite were scarce and Warp-space was a concept that you learned in high-school if you could afford to pay the Memory-guild for the learning implants.\n\nThe station's P.A. interrupted his elderly musings as it announced the scouting ship's departure from the station. Doc sighed. This was one of the most inexperienced crews of Catalogers he'd dealt with, consisting of predominantly young, well-to-do college students who were interning with UESA for their xenology degrees. In the two Solar-Years the expedition had lasted, they'd cataloged four habitable planets, of which one had fostered small, fish-like life, at evolutionary stages several billion years behind man's. On that planet, there had been enough violations of Contact Code including a skin-to-skin contact with one of the fish without bacterial elimination, and even a case where students were caught having sex behind the landing-ship. Several members had been incarcerated in the Station's bay, a testament to the irresponsibility of the crew. The fact that this particular planet had developing sentient life that probably required a full book of legalese in regards to First Contact gave the Doc a headache he felt he wouldn't be able to shake for months.\n\nPushing his hair back, he watched from the window of his office as the scouting party descended into the atmosphere of the spinning sphere, a streak of red lighting up the empty black of space. Their target was a few miles off the shore of the largest village, where they would hover until the planet's strong lunar tides crept in several miles closer to the land. From there, they could quickly and quietly approach the village under the cover of the ocean fog and relay high-quality video to the station.\n\nDoc closed his eyes and waited. The ship had limited access to the net due to its distance from core worlds surrounding the solar system, so there was very little in the way of entertainment save for the virtual reality sims that he'd played thousands of times over the decades. He'd long since learned that physiological time meant very little in the grand scheme of space - twenty hours of nothing was a blink of an eye in the scope of even tiny mankind's history of exploration.\n\nThere was a buzz from his tablet. Doc woke himself up and cursed. There'd been a problem with the connection to the scouting ship, and they'd lost direct audio and video contact due to heavy radio interference. They'd be back in a day, regardless, but it was the kind of incompetence that made him angry.\n\nSighing once again, he had the surveyor-bead operator bring the surveyor probe return to the station. Over the last hour, a menacing storm cloud had begun to form near the continent, obscuring part of it from view of the orbiting station. Frowning, he sent a memo to the comms room warning them of the dangers it presented if the Scouting team got caught in it, knowing full well that John and the rest of them would most likely ignore it.\n\nHe glanced one more time out the window before locking his suit down to his bed and falling into an uneasy slumber.\n\n_________________________________________\n\nDoc Kari was awakened not seven hours later, when the scrawny comms officer knocked on his office door frantically.\n\n\"Doc, this is pretty urgent. The hurricane's enveloped the target area we were tracking the scout ship over. We no longer have visual contact with it. It's been gone for an hour, and administration is losing their mind. They haven't confirmed it, but it's possible the ship is down.\" The timid intern shivered as he saw the cold rage building underneath the old doctor's eyes. \"They're sending a landing ship right now and they need you and the rest of the Bio/Med team down to investigate with the Emergency squad.\"\n\n\"Hurricane?\" Kari swore as he saw the swelling mega-cloud covering the planet below. \"Jesus Hernandez fucking Christ. Don't tell me they're completely gone.\" He paused, before adding, \"You're not serious about the landing, are you? Is administration actually okayed this? If we're lucky, the UE will court martial us on account of at least thirty Contact Code breaches.\"\n\nThe intern shrunk. \"Apparently, Mickey was on it, and you know how worried they are about making sure he's safe.\"\n\n\"Fuck Mickey, we don't have any visuals, we don't even know if the scout ship is even damaged, we're going in blind. What part of the mission handbook even presents this as an idea?\" Doc Kari shouted. Unstrapping from his bed, he could only feel his migraine about the rich heir to the Martian Mining Co. increase. Unlike the rest of the various wealthy juveniles \"studying\" aboard the station, Mickey came from a core world corporate family which granted him license to general misbehavior the rest could not afford. Dryly, he added, \"I suppose in that case the Contact-Code violation court will look the other way.\"\n\nStanding up, he followed the officer down the labyrinthine hallways of the older station and into the massive dock where the landing and scout ships deployed from. He shook hands with the five others on the Bio/Med team and led them into the landing ship, a flat pill-shaped shuttle that held thirty. They strapped themselves in behind the emergency security squad, and sat in anxious silence.\n\nThe ship began to take off and adjust with its projected coordinates. Dominik, one of the EM-sec members said, \"Well, if this isn't a load of shit, I don't know what is.\"\n\n\"Tell that to administration, as if they know jack,\" Marie, the team's xenologist laughed bitterly. \n\nThe ship leveled out around one hundred meters above the ocean before flying full speed into the storm. \n\nMicael, the EM-sec pilot, turned on the scanners and began sending radio transmissions into the howling gale. It was unlikely that it would work, especially considering the storm, but it was standard procedure nonetheless.\n\nAround them, the downpour relentlessly continued. Grimacing, the crew pushed forward, now sending out the search drone. It buzzed off into the darkness, a grey fleck of machinery in the night. When it returned, the Micael allowed it to autopilot the ship towards the route that the scouting ship had taken. The storm began to die down as the ship grew closer to the coast, where miles of rocky land normally covered by the high tide of the ocean lay bare. Suddenly, the ship faltered before plunging downward, stalling hard as its system shut off. Micael quickly activated the manual controls, managing to pull the ship out the uncontrolled dive and landing it against the face of a large plateau that rested barely twenty meters above where the high tide's sea level would be. Kari looked around. Most of the crew looked dazed, except Grace, who sat motionless in shock. Jake, the emergency medic, lay her out on the floor the shuttle to examine her. The rest of the crew stepped into the airlock, and then out onto the planet's surface.\n\nThe landscape was alien in every sense of the word, despite sharing similarities with many other Earth-like planets Kari had encountered. In the distance, the ever creeping ocean seemed to crawl up by a few feet every wave. Massive rocks jutted out like spikes, somehow resistant to erosion. The barren land reminded him of surrealist landscapes he'd seen in the ancient 20th century artworks of Dali, that he had so obsessively poured over as a child in history. However, the oddest part were the massive, circular craters that pockmarked the dry ocean floor's surface, each with a perfectly round hole leading into an abyss below.\n\nMicael waved the rest crew back towards the door to the shuttle. \n\n\"Currently, something's jamming our communication and computer systems. The drone is acting weird, too. The batteries to our suits' oxygen filters at best are going to last another few hours and although the air is breathable for the indigenous creatures, I can't exactly imagine it's healthy for us, meaning we need to stay in the ship. It's possible the station will figure something is wrong, but until then, we're stranded out here. At this point, we're not here to find the scout ship, we're here to stay alive until another rescue team can find us and get us out. For now, let's go back into the ship, where we can be sure it's safe.\" Micael led the group back in. Jake was desperately trying to revive Grace. \n\n\"Do you think she'll recover?\" Micael asked.\n\nJake, who was sweating, shook his head. \"I-I don't think so,\" he stammered.\n\n\"Christ.\" Pausing, Micael furrowed his brows in worry. Finally, he replied, \"Leave her out there, then. If she's a goner, we can't afford to have her eating up part of our ship's internal oxygen supply.\"\n\nThe rest of the crew stood in stunned silence. \"That's... That's unbelievably fucked up,\" Marie finally replied.",
"“What are you saying? You think someone's been here before?” I asked Steven.\n\n“I'm saying it looks like it, Ross, I'm not saying it's true.” The numbskull responded.\n\n“Are you kidding? We had to transverse the impossible to get here, and you think someone got here before us?” 'Finding a loophole in the impossible' was a more accurate description, actually.\n\n“It's not quite impossible if we did, is it though?” Steven remarked. He really did irritate me sometimes.\n\nYou see, Steven and I are travelers. Government employed travelers to be exact. Our job is to 'get there first.' Honestly, it's a rather vain job. You have to have a serious dedication to your nation to be willing to go some of the places we do, just for the sake of getting to say you were there first.\n\nWhere we were was kinda hard to explain. It was kind of like another dimension, but not quite. Our goal was to get to a particular place/dimension that was impossible to reach from ours. The solution? Find a place exactly like it that is possible to reach. Sorta cheating, I suppose.\n\n“Steven, you know what it took us to get here in the first place. We took a totally unnecessary risk for the sake of taking a chance. Hell, the technology to get here didn't even exist until several years ago.” I scorned, “Who in the world would have the time to create a network of tunnels this vast?”\n\n“Perhaps they didn't travel here like we did. Perhaps they were already here.” He responded. Steven seemed just as irritated with me as I was annoyed with him, “It's not totally impossible.”\n\nBefore I could retort, Steven had already headed off into the caves. I had no choice but to follow. I tried my best to shout to him.\n\n“We've done our job, Steven, and we survived. Leave the rest to the analysts.” Steven stopped in his tracks, and turned to me.\n\n“Ross, how often is it we get to do this? How often is it that we have an opportunity not to go back? Sure, we get to visit all these cool, interesting areas, that nobody had even stepped foot in until us, but every time, they just bring us right back, once they know they can survive the trip.” Steven stated emphatically, “But this time, they can't. We have a chance to really explore. Our names could be in the history books! If you want to go back, go, but I want to explore these caves, so that's what I'm gonna do.”\n\nI think Steven knew that I literally couldn't go back without him, but I couldn't force him to let this go. I stared into his eyes for a second, before nodding. He turned around and continued on.\n\n“Ok, so assuming these caves aren't man made, how do you think they formed? They're far to uniform and organized to be caused by anything natural.” Steven asked me, much more calm now. His fixation on this cave was actually rather annoying.\n\n“Not necessarily. The laws of physics might not be exactly the same here. It could be a completely normal occurrence here.” I replied to Steven.\n\nWe both continued down the tunnels. We remained silent. We knew each other well enough to know that neither of us was going to be convinced either way until we found some evidence, or you know, didn't, depending on how things went.\n\nTo be honest, the caves were eerily neat. It was like a sewer or something, but without the actual sewage. All of the caves branched off at exact 90 degree angles, and occasionally opened up to a large area you could fit a city in. Stepping into one of the biggest ones, I took a look around. Alas, the whole thing was barren, just as predicted. Except, something was off...\n\n“Steven... Look at the walls. Look at them closely.” I said, horrified. Steven gave me a strange look, like I'd gone mad, “Look. At. The. Walls.” I repeated.\n\nFinally, Steven turned to the wall. The look on his faced confirmed I wasn't seeing things.\n\nThese walls were made of bone."
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[WP] She still continued to knock on my window even as the blizzard struck the city. "Please let me in dear, it's cold outside."
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" Note : The child speaks in italics. \n\n---------\n\nShe knocked on the window in the middle of the night,\n\n Saying, \"Darling let me in - its all right!\"\n\n I've got clothes for you and a nice warm bed,\"\n\n \"*Yes but I don't want you making it off with my head*!\"\n\n She laughed and laughed as the bitter breeze blew,\n\n Making me wish for a blanket or two.\n\n I started to cry and tears fell off my face,\n\n Landing on the window seat in cluster of eight.\n\n \"Let me in honey, oh let me in,\"\n\n Otherwise I'll have to sleep by the bin.\"\n\n---------\n\n \"*Yes you old fool, sleep by the bin,*\"\n\n *Whilst Christmas is coming you'll never get in*.\"\n\n \"Oh dear, oh no! A paradox you say?\"\n\n Well no matter, I'll see my opportunity on Christmas day.\"\n\n-------\n\n 'Just you wait child just you wait, \n \n You won't live until you're eight.'\n\n Her eyes seemed to sing the songs of doom,\n\n And my parents dead in their room.\n\n 'Just you wait child, just you wait.\n\n I'll find another way to get you, Kate.'\n\n-----------\n\n As the snow goes on and the fire burns out,\n\n I'm all alone in a big, scary house.\n\n--------------\n\n~ jas0850",
"I killed her so, I did-- she died,\n\nAnd as the snow blew in, I heard \"it's cold outside\",\n\nBut colder in here, colder in here.\n\nColder by far in here, my dear.\n\n..\n\nThe scratching at the window pane,\n\nDriving me quickly insane,\n\nIt's darker in here, darker in here...\n\nDarker by far in here, my dear.\n\n..\n\nFingers of bone in blowing snow,\n\nHowling aloud the cold wind blows,\n\nLouder in here, louder in here,\n\nLouder by far in here, my dear.\n\n***\n\nRattling at the doorframe,\n\nAs a wind blows the fire,\n\nIt gutters, the flame,\n\nAnd the snow blows ever higher.\n\nI run to my closet,\n\nI run to my bed,\n\nAnd then I hear footsteps,\n\nOn the roof overhead.\n\nThe chimney is open,\n\nThough the fire is gone.\n\nI peek down the hallway,\n\nThen slip slippers on.\n\nScuttling on cold brick,\n\nA shadow on the hearth,\n\nChurning, my stomach sick,\n\nWill this stop my heart?\n\nA groaning sigh ahead,\n\nSomething soot-black from the fire,\n\nA thing reeking and dead.\n\nIn the cold I perspire,\n\nClosing my bedroom door.\n\nThere comes rap-rap-rapping,\n\nBones rat-rat-rattling,\n\nHeart tap-tap-tapping,\n\nAnd a voice from the noir:\n\n..\n\n\"Please let me in dear, it's cold outside.\"\n\nHer voice steals my breath,\n\nRadiating the cold from inside,\n\nAnd I know she is death.\n\n..\n\nI am her lover, her partner in life.\n\nEven though I killed her,\n\nAnd chopped her up with my knife,\n\nShe came back, the dead of winter.\n\n..\n\nOpening the door, I embrace a shade,\n\nClaws curling for my vitality,\n\nShe's ending this charade,\n\nOf life in normality.\n\n..\n\nMy mouth brought to her ragged lips,\n\nYellowed flesh peeled back,\n\nWe're brought into a final kiss,\n\nMy blue soul burned to black.\n\n***\n\nMy mind slips away now in this white padded place,\n\nBrought to bear by the memory of her face,\n\nLouder in here, louder in here,\n\nLouder by far in here, my dear.\n\n..\n\nLong shards of broken mirror in my fist,\n\nThe end one finds to a life like this.\n\nDarker in here, darker in here,\n\nDarker by far in here, my dear.\n\n..\n\nRed blood spraying, staining the whitewashed walls,\n\nHell may come, but it's an end to it all,\n\nBut it's colder in here, colder in here.\n\nColder by far in here, my dear.",
"I must be dreaming. There's no way this is real.\n\nThere's no goddamn way this girl is outside my window in the middle of a blizzard in a sundress and no shoes on. I mean, I'm looking at her, but she can't *actually* be there.\n\n\"Are you pinching yourself?\" she shouts through the glass. I look down at my wrist. Why yes, yes I am. \"Please let me in, dear, it's cold out here.\", she continues, which is a weird thing to say cause (aside from the fact that she called me \"dear\") she doesn't look cold at all. Her eyes are sad but the rest of her looks absolutely at ease in the snow. Like she's Jack Frost's cousin or something. \n\nOh whoops, guess I was too busy staring to actually answer, 'cause she just let out a real depressed sigh and began to walk away all dejectedly. Now I feel like a shit. Something awful must have happened to her. Like her house caught on fire and all she had time to put on before escaping the blazing pit of death was a little green sun dress. Or maybe she had been kidnapped and had just escaped from a kidnapper furiously pursuing her through the streets of Calm Valley just as I'm thinking about this now.\n\nI open the door and go \"Hey, whoa! I'm sorry, you just surprised me! Come in, please.\"\n\nShe turns around and boy oh boy the smile she gives could melt a solid block of ice, which I suppose isn't a very good metaphor, because a blow-dryer could do the same thing. She's way prettier than a blow-dryer, though. \n\nShe has jet-black hair and mahogany skin and almond eyes and a dancer's figure and a grin that's like summer. \"Thank you\", she says. Her voice is like warm maple syrup once it's not being filtered through a window. She's the kind of girl who can get away with wearing nothing but a sun dress in the snow. Well, not quite, but almost. She moves past me, almost floating.\n\nI have a small crib, the first floor in dingy apartment complex consisting of a bedroom, a living room, kitchen and bathroom. Despite the name, Calm Valley is a shit-show and the real estate is equally cheap and shitty. But my living room does have a pellet stove, and a cute little carpet I got at Walmart. She takes my rocking chair and sits by the fire. I close the door and go get a towel from the bathroom. When I come back she's rocking peacefully back and forth. Her eyes look less sad now- but not wholly. The snow on her arms and legs starts to melt, living a thin residue of moisture. She has nice legs, I notice. \n\n\"Would you like something to eat? Something to drink?\" I ask as I hand her the towel.\n\n\"Some warm tea would be nice, please.\" I make her the tea. She drinks it slowly, savoring each sip. I put honey and milk in it, so I'm glad she likes it. I'm just kind of waiting for her to say something though...\n\nFuck it. \"So, um, what happened?\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\" She replies.\n\n*What? What the fuck does she think I mean? It's -10 degrees and she ended up at my door-step with no shoes on!* I only think that though. What I actually say is: \"Um, well, you're a little under dressed for the weather. And I've never seen you around before...so, I guess, I mean...what's your story?\"\n\nShe looks me right in the eye and says, \"Ok, pull up a chair, and I'll tell you.\"\n\n*Motherfucker. This is not a negotiation.*, I think. \"Ok.\" I say. *I'm an idiot*, I think. I pull up a chair.\n\nShe stops rocking back and forth. \"You know, you're the first person to actually let me in. Well, the second person. I've been to six houses so far. Five refused me. One man let me in, but I'm pretty sure he was trying to have his way with me so I got the fuck out of there quick.\"\n\n\"Did you call the cops?!?\"\n\n\"Nah, I took care of it,\" she says. I'm confused by that line. What did she do to him? What will she do to me if she gets the idea that I'm some kind of threat? Is this skinny 5'4\" girl even capable of doing anything remotely scary? What drugs did she take?\n\n\"What do you mean?\"\n\n\"Don't worry. Anyway, I really appreciate you letting me in.\" She looks right at me as she says it. Her lips are really pink. \"And you're not a stranger.\"\n\n\"What? I mean, have we met?\"\n\n\"When you were a little baby, you probably don't remember me much.\" She smiles, but this isn't an ice-melting smile. It's more like a 'Ha ha I'm fucking with you with smile'. \"I'm older than I look.\" She continues. Well, she looks 21. But I'm 22, and if she was there when I was an infant that would make her 44. She's lying. No fucking way she's that old. Not unless the super rich have figured out how to freeze themselves and wake themselves up later in time and just didn't bother telling poor grad students like me. Why would she lie though? *And what did she do to that guy?* She's laughing quietly. She puts down her tea. \"I know you don't believe me, Jake. But I'm promise, I could *definitely* be your mother. Also, I never introduced myself properly. You can call me Holly.\"\n\n\"N-nice to meet you, Holly.\" None of this makes sense. First she comes to my window in a green sun dress in the middle of a blizzard. Then she says she's 42 when she looks like she's my age. Then she says she knew me when I was a baby. This bitch is on heroin. I knew it. Why did I let her in. I'm so stupid. I- wait. How did she know my name? \"How do you know my name?\"\n\n\"Call me a family friend. I knew your grandmother, I use to play with her when she was a child.\"\n\nOk. Yes. Heroin confirmed. What the fuck do I do? How do I get her out of my house? \"I see. Well, that's nice. Where do you live? Perhaps I can call a taxi?\"\n\n\"No, no, that won't be necessary. I'll be on my way soon. But I'm really happy you're the one who let me in. Because I wanted to give my condolences. I know your grandmother passed away quite recently. We were close.\"\n\nSo she's not only a drug addict, she's an insensitive lunatic. Who thinks it's funny to make fun of people's dead grandmothers. I get up and open my mouth, but she's not done talking.\n\n\"After your kindness today, offering a warm place by the fire and tea to a stranger, I see you take after her. Because she was my friend, I will be yours. Always know someone is watching out for you-\"\n\n\"Ok, look, do you need a taxi? Because I really can call you a taxi. It's snowing but the roads were cleared a little while ago and we can check and see if they're running. If not maybe the cops can give you a lift- but it's getting late and I should really get you home. I'm sure someone is worrying about you.\"\n\n\"Even when you're kicking me out, so polite! You were raised right, young man.\" Holly stands up and float-walks over to me. There's something inhumanly desirable about this girl. She smells like a spring garden, and her skin looks so soft up close. Like expensive silk. She touches my hand and I want to kick myself in the nut-sack for wanting to kiss her on her lips. Being a young man is, I suppose, a little complicated. Wait, was is she doing? What the- ok, yes, she kissed me, and for a split second I'm transported into Narnia. Or is it Nirvana? All I know is the place where I was was soft and sweet and full of flowers and the kind of doughnuts you get fresh off the farms where you go apple picking. \n\nI open my eyes and she's gone. The door isn't open, neither the windows. But there's holly, holly fucking everywhere. It's growing out of my walls, the carpets, my ceiling. OMFG THERE IS HOLLY EVERYWHERE. GREEN-ASS HOLLY WITH THE LITTLE BERRIES IN IT. LIKE IT'S CHRISTMAS. The shock knocks me off balance. I back up clumsily and the heels of my feet hit something hard. I whip around and there's a little antique, wooden jewelry box with its lid half open. In it are two things: one is a picture, slightly faded, of my grandma as a little girl. She's like maybe five in it, but next to her is Holly in the same damn green sun dress looking the same damn age she did today. The picture is signed in cursive: \"Love, Holly.\" Underneath the letter, the jewelry box was filled with what appears to be pieces of solid gold- shaped into holly leaves. \n",
"I writhed in pain contemplating this moral dilemma before me. I love her. I know she will suffer in the most horrible ways as she freezes to death outside tonight. Nobody knows what decision I have been struck with. They only know about the situation.\n\nThere will be a blizzard which will strand all of us in this bunker for at least the next two weeks. All we have are the resources inside. There are 53 of us total. Mostly a team of scientists studying here in Antarctica. What they don't know is that my daughter accidentally stabbed herself with a hypodermic needle today. She's only nine and was playing doctor in one of the research rooms. This isn't unusual at all. As my only daughter living in a bunker with a bunch of scientists she has to find ways to have fun. But today, today my precious little girl simply poked herself while playing. She ran to me and asked if I would kiss her boo boo. I immediately noticed the redness surrounding the cut and ran to see what was in the syringe. It looked empty. Surely this was unused. But after putting the contents under a microscope I realized that at some point this syringe had been full of the newly discovered virus AX-4299. We don't understand this virus. All we know is that within a few hours of infection the patient shows blackness around the eyes. Within 24 hours they can't hear anything and lose their appetite almost completely. They lose weight rapidly and hardly sleep. After one week, the infected patient loses all memory and is unable to recognize people around them. They think everything and everyone is a threat to their lives and begin attacking anyone who comes close to them. Worst of all, the virus seems to be airborne. Simply breathing the infected person's air can cause you to become contaminated.\n\nSo here I am. Looking at my daughter through this window. Watching her cry and beg me to let her in. What should I do? Is there a way to contaminate her? Will she suffer more if I keep her alive? Is it possible to invent an antidote while stuck inside this bunker with only the resources we have? How horrible of a father am I? What will her mother back home think? Suddenly I lose contact with my daughters eyes and catch my own reflection. The skin around my eyes looks black... "
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[WP] Someone has been using /r/WritingPrompts to get people to do their English homework.
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"''Mr. Colton please stay after class''\nJohn Greymound was the english teacher at the South houston Highschool since summer last year and found himself angered and somewhat surprised when he read Daniel Colton's assignment.\n''Everyone else can leave, don't forget homework this time. Yes, Jimmy, i'm talking to you''\n\nJohn was sitting on his desk and was watching Daniel's every move, from him getting up of his chair 'til he arrived infront of him.\n''Yes, Mr. Greymound''\n''Take a seat please. I want to talk about your homework. As you know, last friday i asked all of you write a small sciene fiction story about dwarves and elves.'' Truth was, Mr Greymound didn't knew how to tell the kid this news.\n''So, Daniel, i found myself browsing over Writing Prompts on the weekend and i happened to stumble upon a post that was *prompting* me to write a science fiction about dwarves and elves and that kind of stuff. I didnt thought of it and i just did it, you know?''\n\nDaniel Colton's forehead was dripping with sweat and his heart was about to sink because he knew that he'd been caught.\n''And today, Mr Colton, i read your report. And it turns out your homework is *word by word* what i wrote on that prompt last sunday. How long have you been doing this? You know what, don't even answer. I just wanna let you know you'll be going to detention and you will use the time to rewrite your prompt.''\n\nMr. Greymound let the kid go, but before he left, Daniel Colton turned around and asked him like if it was no big deal *And what kind of story should i write, Mr Greymound?*. John was staring at his screen already searching for new prompts to write. ''Uh, i dont know... You can probably make it about a kid who uses Writing prompts to do his english homework''.\n\nDaniel Colton left with a grin on his face.",
"Bill walked into Sophomore English class that morning with a smile on his face and a spring in his step. He smirked, rather proud of this scam that he had been pulling. \n\nLast semester, he was failing English. He hated to read, and had no talent for writing. He simply didn't care; the written word was a joke to him, particularly when it was getting in the way of playing Halo with his buddies, or demonstrating his worth to the varsity football coach. Nah, words were only for the titles of the porn he watched on his laptop after his mom went to sleep. \n\nThis semester, however, he had discovered the r/WritingPrompts, a thread on a popular message board site where users went and shared different ideas and inspiration for stories. It was a jump from his typical r/woahdude, the stoner's favorite thread. He would place his assignments for English on this thread, and wait for others to write his essays for him. He wouldn't have credited them if he could; he felt he deserved all the credit for being so clever. \n\nHe walked confidently up to the teacher's desk, and handed his paper over. Mr. Washington was young and clever as well, and looked over his dark framed glasses at Bill. It seemed a little strange that he had gone from a D student to an A/B student in just a few months. \n\n\"Thank you Bill,\" he said after a beat, glancing down at the student's paper. \n\n\"Sir,\" Bill responded, inclining his head and smiling even more broadly. \n\nBill was halfway back to his seat when Mr. Washington called, \"Can you come back here for a moment, Bill?\" \n\nAs Bill approached the desk, still smirking, Mr. Washington returned the expression with even more gusto. \"I wanted to let you know, us unhip teachers have been clued into some of the day's more popular websites, and I especially am invested in one of them...reddit, it's called. It's a wonderful tool, not just for entertainment, but for professional issues, personal issues, creative improvement and advancement, it's just awesome.\" Mr. Washington was relishing the quick disappearance of the kid's smirk, the color draining from his face and his eyes getting shifty. \"Do you know of this site?\"\n\n\"I think a friend might have mentioned it once,\" Bill said, trying hard to mask the anxiety in his voice. \n\nMr. Washington continued as he briefly perused through the essay and then wrote a big fat F over the entire front page. \"Well, I think you should check it out sometime. I think you would find a user named \"SuperbWordNerd\" to be very similar to you in writing style.\"\n\n\"Oh? Is it a friend of yours?\" \n\n\"No\", Mr. Washington stated, smiling amicably at his student and handing back his paper. \"It's me. You just plagiarized my work. For MY class. You can head to the principal's office and see if he can give you something new to smirk about.\" "
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[WP]: Everyone knows the expression "to open a can of whoopass". And somewhere out there lives a family who cans whoopass for a living.
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"Whuvass trees only grow in a few parts of the world, and the missus's family farm is one of them. They're gorgeous, almost as pretty as she is, with long curvy branches, sturdy ramrod straight trunks, and the nastiest fruit you ever did taste. Kind of looks like a banana, but the peel is the only remotely edible part of the thing. The middle is veiny and dark and bitter and salty and... you don't want to hear about how awful whuvass fruit is, you probably heard plenty about it when them hippies were eating it all the time and farted a new smog cloud over Salt Lake City.\n\nBut you folks don't buy whuvass, because you aren't a bunch of stinkin' hippies. No, you buy whoopass, and if you're here, you wanna know where whoopass comes from. \n\nWell, you see that tree? That pretty tree just sitting and drinking sunlight like its the sweetest most innocent thing? Well son, lemme tell you why they call that tree a *whuv*ass tree. You send your wife or your daughter past one of them trees, that tree is going to make it clear how it feels about asses, and son, lemme tell you, the folks around here don't take kindly to that kind of disrespect to our women, even if it is from one of them big, thick, hard trees. Those trees don't take kindly to us not taking kindly to it, and we fight with them trees for weeks in the fall! And that awful whuvass fruit gets *mad* that we're fighting its mama tree. And that's how you know when to can it- when the fruit starts fighting back, you know you've got a great ol' crop of whoopass, and you send the women in to can those suckers up.",
"\"It all pretty simple, really,\" Joe explained as he sent a trail of chew spit off to the side. \"Whoopass ain't magical. You just gotta use your smarts and set the trap.\" \n\n\"Can you explain to our viewers how the trap works?\" asked the reporter. \n\n“Sure thing, sweetheart,” he said, “You see, the whoopass is drawn to assholes and the douche-bags. And they come runnin’ when they catch the scent of a real dumbass, too – you know the type: the kind who needs some sense knocked into ‘im. Since we know what they after, it’s easy to find ‘em.” He leaned forward, his voice secretive, and said, “You wanna know what works the best? We play that reality TV, ‘round the clock. Works every time. Those 'Kardanians, and them housewives bring the whoopass the fastest. The TMZ works pretty well, too, when they talkin’ about the Bieber or the Kanye or that bat-shit-crazy Miley gal.” He pointed behind him to a row of flat screens, below which were what looked like simple live-catch mouse traps. “They come hustlin’ in like a tiny tornado, blind with rage, so they get caught and we ship ‘em out.” \n\n“That’s fascinating. So you catch them here, on site, and then ship them out. Explain how they reach the consumer,” the reporter urged. \n\nJoe held up an aluminum can to the camera. It was styled like a generic beer can with a full-lid, pull-top and small ventilation holes. “This beauty keeps the little turds alive. We shake ‘em into the can and seal ‘er up on the spot. We sell them in bulk to the big boys and they take care of the rest. Like I said, pretty simple.”\n\n“Thank you for sharing with Joe. This truly is a unique business and we wish you the best in the future,” the reporter said, shaking his hand.\n\n“Oh, you’re more than welcome, miss. Now I got to run. We got another one of them debates on tonight. We’ll be catching a lot of whoopass tonight. All hands on deck, if you know what I mean!” Joe exclaimed as he trotted towards his office.\n",
"\"Tommy! Help me with this can of WHOOPASS!\" The pale, buff and scarred whoop ass collector struggled with his hands around a silver tin can that was dragging him around the room rambunctiously. Tommy ran into the room and clasped his large, strong calloused hands on the top and bottom of the can. \"How long do you think this is going to take, Papparooni?\" \"I dunno son, until it stops struggling. And don't call me that, what the fuck?\" The whoop ass dragged the two around the room for about half an hour until it had gotten it all out of it's system. \"Alright, now take that one and label it. Hopefully the rest of these aren't as energetic.\" \"Do you want me to send Bertha in? She's been really excited since you told her you'd teach her to can whoop ass\". \"Yeah, okay. Better to learn early while they heal quicker\". Tommy walked out of the room, ushering his little sister into the whoop ass room. He grabbed a label, smeared glue on the backside and expertly wrapped it around the can. \"Domestic grown, Family canned WHOOPASS\" The label said. ",
"Across the village, the cries of the children ring out.\n\nIt had been ten years. Ten years since some Chinese conglomerate had figured out how to can the stuff, how to preserve it so it didn't go stale, first degenerating into kick-butt and then evaporating into thin air. Ten years, and demand was higher than ever.\n\nNow, people in the first world popped open cans of it in bars, during family gatherings, even weddings. Oh, the upper crust would have told you it was only rednecks who used the product, but every family has its secrets. And most American families loved their whoop-ass, whether openly or in private.\n\nIt had become a form of cheap entertainment, almost-- no one even batted an eye anymore when someone else opened up a can of whoop-ass in public. Characters in movies and television shows were always opening up cans of whoop-ass. It received a great deal of product placement in action movies.\n\nThey shipped the stuff over in great vats, canned it in automated factories. Where did they get the raw material?\n\nWell, as is often the case, the pleasures of the First World ended up being produced by the pain of the Third World. Only, in this case, more directly.\n\nThe cries of the children rang out across the village, and they were not cries of joy or excitement. They were cries of pain."
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[WP] While cleaning up your school's computer science club room, you find an old computer from the 70's that's still running. There is a label on the computer that reads "Do NOT turn off: world will end"
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"What a shitty job.\n\nHave you ever seen a programmer in their element? Not during the day time, when they've started a new project and almost seem like a normal human being, but when they're *really* in the zone. Trapped between mountains of snack food and notes and soda and notes stained by snack food and soda, they're like corpses with overactive fingers. Somehow, I lucked into the job of proverbial mortician. I like to imagine that I must have been Genghis Khan or Chairman Mao in a past life to have earn this esteemed position, but regardless it pays the rent.\n\nSame as every night, I came in at about half past midnight to begin mountain disassembly. There were two people asleep in the corner and one poor girl just staring blankly at her computer screen. After some encouragement and assurance that \"yes, you'll have plenty of time to finish tomorrow morning,\", I was able to clean at least the human mess from the room. It looked like one of the sleepers must've forgotten to turn their screen off, because the main source of light in the area was a dimly lit monitor. I flipped the light switch to try and jar myself awake and walked over to cut the monitor off. Normally all it took was a quick button press at the front edge of the monitor, but something was strange here. For one thing, the computer and screen itself were ancient. The interface was bulky and decrepit looking. You could probably fit more information into a youtube advertisement than you could this thing's hard drive. The second strange thing about this piece of equipment was that it appeared as though the PC itself was running. Rather than just a backlit square, the monitor had some basic text hovering on the screen.\n\n\"Would you like to see? (Y/N)\"\n\nI wasn't supposed to mess with the computers themselves, and I was not about to get blamed for releasing whatever virus was behind that prompt. Lastly, the behemoth of a computer had a note stuck hastily to the top.\n\n\"Do NOT turn off: world will end\"\n\nWith that, the situation made a little more sense. One of the nerdiest of the nerds must have had some nostalgic craving so he brought this clunker in to play one of his old \"retro\" games. God, I couldn't wait to pay my way through school and never see one of these weirdos again. Being that I still had quite a few hours until sunrise, I thought I might give the game a try. It took me longer than I'd like to admit to find the 'y' key with my index finger.\n\nAs soon as I pressed the button, the screen blacked out. After a moment's panic, the screen flashed up what appeared to be a perfect reflection of me and my surroundings. After being a bit appalled at my tired appearance, I was even more astonished at how the monitor had become a mirror. That went against every thing that I knew, all I could do was stand there and stare.\n\nWhile I stood there in awe however, my reflection was a bit less stationary. My opposite's brow furrowed and he leaned in the bash the screen with his closed fist.\n\n\"Stupid overgrown calculator,\" he muttered.\n\nI heard his voice, my voice, as clearly as if he were in the room next to me.\n\n\"What the hell...\" I said under my breath.\n\nImmediately my reflection's head perked up and he looked around the room behind him.\n\n\"Who said that?\" he asked.\n\nI was too paralyzed with fear to answer, so he leaned in even closer. What was happening? Why was my reflection moving around? Why could it hear me? He didn't even have that scar on his chin I got in 5th grade.\n\n\"Answer me!\"\n\nMy doppelganger started shaking the screen violently and somehow the monitor itself began to rumble on the table. It was too much, I couldn't deal with this any longer, so I bent down and yanked the power cord from the wall.\n\nBut the image didn't fade.\n\nThe me that wasn't me began frantically looking around.\n\n\"What's happening!? Who's there? It burns!\"\n\nSure enough, I could see the pain and fear on his face. Slowly, it grew until I almost couldn't tell that he had ever looked like me. It was clear that his sanity was being wiped away by mind numbing agony.\n\nHe looked me right in the eyes and screamed, \"Why!?\", and then the monitor was off.\n\nAfter a few minutes of terrified silence, my eyes drifted back to the note taped so carelessly to the monitor and I realized what I had done. I walked straight out of that lab and submitted my resignation the next day. Two weeks later the nightmares still haven't stopped. It was bad enough being in there alone to watch myself disappear, but what I'm really afraid of is whoever is looking through the monitor at me. Please don't pull the plug. Please.\n\n",
"When I saw the label, I knew there was only one thing to do.\n\nI tapped into the public address system using the handset that I always carried in my tool bag. It was actually an old Western Electric testing headset that I bought from a long-time WE employee on eBay. I gathered my wits, took a deep breath, and announced in my best principal's voice: \"Randi Kitten, report to the computer lab immediately!\"\n\nAs I waited for her arrival, I used a can of compressed air to remove the dust from around the label. I needed the label to be as presentable as possible.\n\nThere was a knock on the door. I answered, trying to keep my voice from advertising the nervousness I was feeling: \"Come in, the door's unlocked.\"\n\nRandi walked in, wearing her cheerleader's outfit as she did most days. When she saw me, she exclaimed: \"Not you again! I told you that the captain of the football team is the only guy for me.\"\n\nI smiled and said: \"Randi, darling, would you please just walk over here and read the label on this old computer?\"\n\nShe walked in front of the computer, read the label, and declared: \"Is this for real? What will happen if the power is switched off?\"\n\n\"I don't really know, but the label warns of terrible things. Terrible. Randi, your refusal to go out with me has truly hurt me. I'm so depressed that I'm tempted to turn the power off and take the world with me,\" I said with a sigh.\n\n\"Oh, that's awful! Is there anything I can do?\" she asked.\n\n\"Well, there is one thing.\"",
"Anyone could have, and _should have_ pressed the button.\n\nThis thing, was old. I mean, like, ancient.\n\nIt had piles of cables, billowing out of it, like some ancient giant poured a bowl of spagetti into the case. I followed a cable, and found a small hatch.\n\nI frowned a bit. _Had this always been here?_\n\nI try to open it, and... anticlimactically, it stayed shut. The hatch was probably as old as the computer, if not older. Figures.\n\nThe school was built in some old scientific facility. Way before the war. I mean, lots of schools were. They were the only place safe.\n\nI went back to the computer, and found the old, heaving monitor humming with light, a single prompt on it.\n\n BLACK MESA RESEARCH FACILITY\n Initiate resonance cascasde? (Y/n)\n\n_Black Mesa_. A flood of memories washed over me, not mine. Pictures of horrifying creatures, long since dead and gone. I hastily press n, and am greeted with a pleasant _ding!_\n\n Facility Lockdown [CLEAR]\n Projects, 1-999 [CLEAR]\n Project 1A-1C [FAILED]\n\nThe screen flowed by, blueprints flowing down the screen like a monochromatic waterfall. These old terminals _sucked_ for image viewing. Something about an suit built before the war.\n\nWhen I was _finally_ given the ability to interact with it again, I saw a single line prompt.\n\n gfreeman@anomalousmat.blackmesa.us\n\nI knew what happened. The war, the 7 hours lost for all of humanity.\n\nI hastily typed exit, and ran out of the room, towards the lab.\n\n\nAs the terminal flickered, one more prompt was displayed:\n\n Abort of Resonance Cascade - [POWER 157%] - FAILED\n\nAnd then dark. \n\nA eternal dark.\n\nThe primordial dark that all men fear.\n\nThe one that the free man had rescued them from.\n\n\nAnd then a voice spoke.\n\n_\"Rise and shine, Mister Freeman, rise, and smell the ashes.\"_\n ",
"I found the computer a few weeks ago, the sign was clear and I had no reason to turn it off but curiosity was killing me. \nEvery time so far I'd stopped myself before I pressed the buttons. I'd checked the power records for the school and, despite the occasional power cuts to the area, this school had never yet been affected. It was as though something was keeping the power flowing. \nAfter another sleepless night I couldn't stand it any more and ran back to school, leaving the doors open behind me as I charged heedlessly through the corridors. I barged into the empty room and reached for the button, pausing just before I closed my eyes and leaned forward... \n***\n(I couldn't choose which ending btw, so pick your favourite from the comments below.) ",
"I was just finishing up my cleaning of the computer science club room, excited to finally be done with the chore. As I was walking back towards the door, I noticed a something in a corner of the room that didn't fit in with the rest of the room.\n\n\"Oh hey, and old 70's computer! I didn't know this was here!\" I thought to myself. I noticed a piece of paper taped to the top of the box-shaped monitor, but I couldn't quite read it. As I got closer, I began to make out what it said.\n\n\"DO NOT TURN OFF: WORLD WILL END\"\n\n\"I don't want to risk it,\" I said to myself as I made my way back to the room's exit, leaving the computer on."
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[WP] You are an imaginary friend. However, the child who created you is getting too old to believe in you any longer, which means you will disappear very soon. You desperately try to avoid your 'death' by any means.
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"“Blue!”\n\nI looked up before I could help myself. It wasn't my name of course, but it sounded so similar. I'd hoped to see Timmy smiling up at me like he used to, thrusting another scribbled picture under my nose. But instead he was turned away from me, facing the front of the class room and shouting out colors with the rest of the class as the teacher's pointer slid across the rainbow.\n\n“Purple!” rang out before Ms. Kinter sprang to the other side of the board and arbitrarily slapped her pointer onto an especially colorful chart of numbers.\n\n“Six!”\n\nI looked away and focused on my hands. Or rather, what was behind them. Sitting in the back of the class I stared at my feet through the palms of my hands. Initially, when I first began to fade, I could barely make them out. They were distorted blobs, blurred chunks of blue barely visible behind the weathered lines in my hands. Now I could not only count my laces, but I could even make out the ruby shade of the carpet beneath my boots.\n\nI didn't have much time.\n\nI looked back up at Timmy, willing him to turn around and flash me the grin he used to so often before starting school. I wished it with all my heart. Instead, he leaned forward and shouted out letters with the rest of the children, bouncing excitedly on invincible knees.\nI rubbed my own knees. I was still young, only two years, but the fading was beginning to take its toll. I wasn't ready to go.\n\nThen I heard a small voice beside me. “Well, you look awfully blue.”\n\nA petite woman had sat down next me and was looking at me from behind a playful smile and wire rim glasses. I held up my translucent hands for her to see. “Not as blue as I used to be.”\n\t\nShe laughed and took one of my hands. “I'm Cessy.”\n\t\n“Blook,” I shook her hand. “So which one is yours?”\n\t\nShe pointed to a little girl on the outskirts of the circle. “Abby. We just transferred in today.”\n\t\nAs if on cue, Abby looked back toward us, her brow furrowed in worry until she caught a glimpse of Cessy and smiled. Cessy smiled back and wiggled her fingers at her, then spun her index finger in a circle to try and get Abby to turn back around. \n\t\n“We had a late start this year,” Cessy continued, “her mother died last month.” The last part caught me so off guard I stopped waving my fingers in front of my face. She shrugged when I stared at her. “It's also why I'm so...put together. I didn't always look like this you know,” she laughed, “I used to look like a princess fireman. The things kids can imagine, huh?”\n\t\nI did the mental math. “Ah, Princess. Cessy.”\n\t\nShe nodded. “Bingo. But ever since Mrs. Ritter died, Abby's been slowly molding me in her image.”\n\t\nI saw Abby sneak another glance at us over her shoulder. Poor kid.\n\t\n“So what about you, Officer Blook? What's your story?”\n\t\n“Officer Blook, clever,” I looked down at my faded uniform, “let's stick with Blook for now. I only use officer when I'm trying to impress the ladies.”\n\t\nShe pulled her wire rim glasses down to the edge of her nose and raised her eyebrows at me. \t“Am I not worth impressing...officer?”\n\t\nI couldn't help but laugh at her. “Maybe one day. We did just meet...ma'm.”\n\t\nShe grinned and pushed her glasses back in place. “Fair enough. And all the blue?”\n\t\n“Well, Timmy was working on his first coloring book,” I motioned toward the eager boy still bouncing on his knees.\n\t\n“Cute kid.”\n\t\n“Thanks. Anyway, he came across a picture of a police officer and colored the whole picture blue – I mean everything: uniform, skin, even the background. Lines do not exist for Timmy. And when he showed his parents, his dad said 'wow! Look at all that blue!' and Timmy replied...”\n\t\nCessy snapped her fingers. “Lemme guess, he couldn't say 'blue'.”\n\t\n“Right-o. Instead, he went ear to ear, missing teeth and all, and shouted 'Blook!'. And here I am today.” I swept my hands over my body as if to show her the goods. She frowned for the first time.\n\t\n“For now. How long ago were you imagined? He doesn't look very old...”\n\t\n“He's only six! But ever since starting school he hasn't really needed me. We've had two great years together, but he's so independent now, I don't know how much time I have left.”\n\t\nThe lesson at the front had ended and Ms. Kinter was leading the kids toward us to go out for recess. They filed past us, more faded friends like me in their midst, each hoping without hope to hear their child call out to them. I noticed that while every one of them was fading, silently pleading for attention, I was by far in the worst shape and Cessy was in the best. She looked almost as real as the kids themselves and I knew in that moment just how much Abby needed her.\n\t\nTimmy was in the bulk of the class and didn't so much as glance at me as he followed a group out into the Autumn air. Abby, on the other hand, came bounding up from the back of the pack and took Cessy by the hand.\n\t\n“C'mon Cessy, let's go play.”\n\t\n“OK baby, I'll follow you.” Her smile made me melt inside. She stood to follow Abby out, but hesitated for a moment. “You know Blook, maybe it's a good thing Timmy's already moved on. Sometimes I wonder how much good we really do. I want to be there for Abby, but I don't want to have to wish her a happy sweet sixteen, you know? You can only do so much for them.”\n\nI looked back down through my hands and watched myself shuffle my feet. “I know. I'm just not ready for another kid. Timmy grew up too fast. I only want a little more time.”\n\t\n“Well I guess that answers that question.” \n\t\nI tilted my head at her as she backed away toward Abby. “What question?”\n\t\n“The question we should always ask ourselves: who really needs who anymore? I'll see ya round Blook.”\n\t\nI pressed my hand to my face and watched her walk through the door to the playground. “We'll see,” I said under my breath, “I certainly hope so.”\n\n\t\nThe rest of the morning was uneventful. After recess, the class came back in for a story and then they kind of drifted into their own activities while they waited for parents to pick them up. Cessy and I exchanged glances a few more times, but we didn't get a chance to talk again that day. During story-time Cessy had sat behind Abby with her legs outstretched to either side in a comforting embrace that only Abby and the rest of us Imaginaries could appreciate. Then she'd pulled Cessy over to the drawing table with her and was scribbling and talking so quickly that I'm sure it was hard for Cessy to keep up. But she did it, nodding at all the right words and “oohing” and “ahhing” at enough mosaics that even I could see Abby growing more confident with every stuttered sentence and shaky stroke of crayon. \n\nAnd suddenly, Cessy didn't seem as real as she did earlier – not as sharp. Her definitions had blurred a bit and her colors had become a little more muted. Maybe she was right. Maybe I did need Timmy more than he needed me and it was time to let go. I knew I should be happy, but isn't it in our nature to cling to the things we love? The things we need? All I wanted was a little more time. Is that too much to ask?\n\t\nAbby's father came before Timmy's, scooping her up and smothering her in kisses before pausing briefly to talk in hushed tones about Abby's first day with Ms. Kinter while Cessy lingered nearby and kept Abby distracted. I was struck by how perfect of a family they looked, the three of them up there. How perfect of a family they used to be; and I saw the burden that Cessy carried, her price for staying whole. Then, with one last wave from Cessy, they were gone.\n\t\nI looked back at Timmy to see how he was coming along with his legos and accidentally met his gaze. He was looking at me!\n\t\n“Timmy!” I stood to go over to him, to listen to his ideas and admire his creations, but his eyes immediately shot back down. Had I missed my last opportunity? I stood awkwardly at the edge of the room, not sure if I should try and reach out to him again or sit back down when Timmy's dad showed up.\n\t\n“Timbo!” He strode into the room and heaved Timmy over his head and sat him on his shoulders. “How's it going buddy? Ms. Kinter, would be so kind as to hand me Timmy's things? I seem to have a small human wrapped around my head.\n\t\nTimmy almost fell off he was laughing so hard.\n\t\nMs. Kinter did her best to hide a smile. “Don't let him forget to do his homework this time, Mr. Booker. We're counting by 2's now.”\n\t\nTimmy began rattling off a series a numbers from behind Mr. Booker's head. “2, 4, 6, 8 -”\n\t\n“If I see him, I'll be sure to let him know Ms. Kinter, you have my word.”\n\t\n“-10, 12, 16-”\n\t\n“And I'll also keep my eyes peeled for that missing 14.” He bounced his shoulders as he said it so Timmy would take the hint.\n\t\n“-18, 20, 14, 16-”\n\t\nMs. Kinter rolled her eyes but made little effort to conceal her smile this time. “You do that Mr. Booker,” she said, handing Timmy's things to him.\n\t\nHe smiled back and gave her a wink before ducking with Timmy through the doorway and marching down the hall toward the parking lot. “From the top, Timbo! 2, 4, 6, 8 -”\n\t\nI felt happy, for the first time in a long time, as I listened to their cadence echo off the lockers and marched in time behind them on disappearing feet.",
"\"She lied to you\" I whispered in her ear.\n\nSarah's eyes welled with tears as she watched her best friend, Megan, laugh along with the new girl on the block, Emma.\n\n*I hate her,* I whispered again, this time in Megan's own voice. \n\nI felt a small flush of relief as Sarah's tears began to flow in earnest, each drop filled with rage and sorrow and betrayal. *Run,* I said, spurring her fight or flight response into action. Sarah turned and fled from the playground. \n\nAhead I saw a root protruding from the ground and pushed the tears a little further, blinding her to the danger ahead. She fell, and scraped her knee. Sarah, overwhelmed, sat in the dirt and cried. I think she may have even torn her dress.\n\nI waited, and watched.\n\nThen, as Sarah overwhelmed herself in panic, I appeared.\n\n\"Sarah!\" I exclaimed, puttering out from behind a tree. I let confusion and worry replace my former giddy smile. \"What's wrong?\"\n\nSarah sniffled and gasped out her response in the half-breathed sob so often heard from the lips of broken-hearted children. \"Me *sob* gan *sob* iz *sob* ent *sob* my best *sob* frend *sob* any mo-ho-ho-hoooore! She dissolved into tears again.\n\nI knelt beside her, my gleaming fur and long, silky mane dappled in the afternoon sunlight streaming through the leaves. She wiped a tear away with the heel of her hand and I lifted a finger to wipe it away with her.\n\n\"I'll be your best friend,\" I said. My voice was smooth and sweet as honey. \"We don't need Megan,\" I spat her name. \"You have me, and I'll always be your best friend.\" \n\nSarah smiled a small smile and nodded. \"Okay,\" she said with a thick voice. I held out my hand and she took it as she got to her feet.\n\n\"Let's go have some sandwiches!\" I said excitedly. Peanut butter sandwiches with no crusts were her favorite. She let out another small sob, but this one had laughter in it and her eyes sparkled as she smiled at me.\n\nI held her hand and led her through the woods as we skipped together, making a point to tell her stories of the monsters that lived in the dark shade and pull her away from the (I told her) poisonous plants that held certain death should she touch them.\n\nShe trusted me, she loved me, and I made sure I'm the only one she does.",
"I can feel myself getting weaker as I watch Jenny play some game on her new smartphone. All of her attention has been on that bloody phone since the day her parents bought it for her. She never wants to play anymore. She barely ever talks to me now. She'll hardly even acknowledge me, truth be told.\n\nThe last couple of weeks have been rough on me. It's like I'm glitching or something. One minute I'll be normal, solid. Then part of me just vanishes completely. Last night I was stealing a cookie from the kitchen and my hands just completely dissappeared. \n\n*Do you know how hard it is to eat without hands?*\n\nI tried talking to Jenny about it. I don't think she heard me. She was busy taking selfies. She even interrupted me to ask if her lips looked puffy enough. *What does that even mean?*\n\nI tried stealing Jen's phone this morning. She was asleep so I carefully pulled it out from her hands and replaced the ugly piece of plastic with her favourite teddy bear. As soon as Jen woke up, she frantically began looking for it. The teddy bear got thrown on the floor and she asked me if I had seen it. \n\nI played innocent, at first. Within just a few minutes my poor Jenny was crying and squealing. Her parents came to calm her down. They called her phone but it was on silent. After a few hours of Jen throwing her little temper tantrum, her dad left to get her another one. I can hardly believe it.\n\n*Why does an eight year old even need a phone?*\n\nThis little piece of plastic is killing me. I'm fading away right before my eyes and Jen hasn't even noticed. There's nothing I can do to stop it. I'm not even sure Jenny remembers that I exist.",
"*Sigh.*\n\nI pick up my favorite ball between my teeth and approach him, dropping it by his feet with that satisfying little bouncy noise tennis balls make. He doesn't seem to notice. He's engrossed in Super Smash Bros, the original, so I nudge his leg with my snout. This gets his attention, and he looks down at me from his chair.\n\n\"What, Ember?\" he asks with an...almost annoyed tone. In response, I pick up my favorite ball again and wag my tail at him a bit. \"You wanna play fetch?\" I nod enthusiastically, my tail wagging even more as he reaches down to take the ball. Unfortunately all he does is toss it just behind him. It bounces lightly off his bedroom wall and lands on his bed. I hop up to fetch it, but when I look at him he's turned back toward his TV, his attention back on Smash.\n\nThe empty feeling worsens. He is forgetting. He doesn't care. He doesn't want me any more. I can feel him slipping away, and it hurts so bad. I love him. He is my owner. I love him, and yet I can tell he's getting further and further away. I don't know how long I have left. Without him, I am worse than a stray. I am worse than unowned. Without him, I will die. \n\nI've been his imaginary friend, his pet, for so long. So many games of fetch, so many walks, all the tricks...we had been so happy together. He would always give me scratches in my favorite place, do my favorite trick and \"slay the dragon\"...we did so much. It never mattered that no one else could see me. I was his pet, his dragon, his good girl for always. And now it is ending, falling through my talons like sand. The sands of time *do* wait for no one, I suppose. In an attempt to try again, I nudge him once more.\n\n\"Go away, Ember. I'm busy.\"\n\nThe wound is ripped open wider. He never used to behave like this. Sure, he's always played games, but he always had time for me. Maybe...maybe he met a girl. He *did* just start 6th grade, so maybe he's making new friends. Better friends. Maybe...he doesn't need me any more. Whatever the reason, he's definitely outgrowing me. \n\n*Owner?* I ask. I know his name, but I've always preferred to call him \"owner.\" \n\"What?\" \n*Don't you...want to play fetch?* \n\"No.\" \n*Do you...wanna watch How To Train Your Dragon?* \n\"No, Ember, I don't.\" \n*B-But...it's my favorite. I love watching it with you...* \n\"Ember, I'm sorry, but I don't want to do this any more. It's stressing me out.\" \n*But...I...* I start. \n\"*No,* Ember,\" he says sternly. I am becoming more and more sure that he's making new friends, as well as thinking he's getting too old to keep me. \n*What? But--I thought...am I not your good girl?* \n\"Not any more.\" \n*Is there anything I can do to change your mind?* \n\"No. I'm sorry. But this is what I want.\" \n*Do I get any more pets or tricks or...?* \n\"No.\"\n\nI realize I can no longer argue. I have lost. This is what he wants, and there is nothing I can do about it. I want to fight, to hold on with all I have, but I see now that it would be futile. And so I give up. I curl up on his bed, positioning myself behind him while he continues to play Smash. I take my favorite ball between my front paws. I want something familiar and nice during this.\n\nAs I feel him letting go of me, I say my last words to him.\n\n*I love you, owner...goodbye...*",
"It's coming to an end, isn't it?\n\nUnbelievable.\n\nAfter everything I've done,\n\nit's really quite remarkable.\n\nI was the one that kept him from running to the road\n\n\nFrom jumping out of the tree or licking a toad.\n\nI was the voice of reason, this treason\n\nI am the one that kept him alive.\n\nAnd now I'm destined to die?\n\nBefore the basketball and the girls\n\nI was his entire world.\n\nI would keep him safe at night.\n\nI'd talk him out of every fight.\n\nHis parents were the ones that made it this way\n\nHe'd still be crying in a corner to this day\n\nI'm the one who saved him\n\nI'm the one who loved him\n\nI'm the voice, the confidence, the decisions and the answers\n\nAnd now I'm a fading memory?\n\nWhat is this insanity?\n\nHow dare he pass me on like a trend?\n\nBut I will not let my will bend....\n\n...\n\nI'm no longer the imaginary friend.\n\nI'm the tiny voice screaming in your head.",
"It started slowly, at first it was barely perceptible but Dan was forgetting about me. I could feel it. 'Forgetting' not in the sense that he wouldn't remember my name or what I looked like but Dan was forgetting that I existed.\n\nFrom the moment he could talk Dan and I had our fun. We spoke every day just me and him and played in the sun together. He had spoken of me often to his family and friends but now he only called me his 'imaginary' friend Terry the Wiffle. He still believed in me but he was too embarrassed to admit it. I had seen this happen before and I knew what would come next, not a week had passed since Dan's best friend, Harry, had stopped believing in his true friend Sluuho. \n\nBefore he passed Sluuho had tried everything to get Harry to keep believing in him. He did everything from appearing in Harry's dreams to reminding him of all the good times they had had together but nothing worked. I was with Sluuho in his last moments and I felt him melt away forever. It was at that moment that I decided never to face the same fate.\n\nI knew I had a matter of weeks, days even to convince Dan that I was really real. I had seen Sluuho try every and I had watched him fail. I knew in my heart of hearts that I was fighting a losing battle but I gave it everything I got. I tore up the rule book and started afresh and no I don't mean that metaphorically.\n\nYou may think it strange that a so called \"imaginary friend\" could have a rule book but what you forget is that we are every way as real as you are. The only reason you exist is because you believe you exist and others believe you exist. If society decided you didn't exist or were just a phantom of their imagination than that's all you would be. The only reason God exists to a religious person is because they believe in him. Its a simple as that. But enough of that you want to know why we have a rulebook. Well its quite simple really its so we can stay safe.\n\nIt was not long before I had come up with a plan to get Dan to remember me forever so that we could be together his whole life. I only did it because I loved him and didn't want him to feel sad.\n\nIt started slowly, at first it was barely perceptible but Dan was going mad. I crept into the corners of his mind and from the shadows I ran the show. And what a show it was. From my vantage place hidden away in his mind I spoke to Dan. At first it was simple and innocent but he wouldn't listen, he was still forgetting about me. I couldn't let that happen, he forced my hand, I had no choice I had to up the ante. I shouted and screamed, I questioned and answered I bullied and pushed and I was rarely absent. I even changed my voice so that it sounded like 10 people talking not one. Still Dan was forgetting.\n\nIt started slowly, at first it was barely perceptible but Dan was not forgetting me. I had got to his core, I knew his secrets, his insecurities, his perceived flaws and I prayed on them. One moment I spoke with a disapproving voice, showing him all his mistakes, the next I pointed out how all his friends were making fun of him, another moment I told him he was worthless and at yet another I drowned out all his objections so loudly he fainted.\n\nHe was soon taken from school and brought to the doctor. His parents wept as I played my games \"what has happened to our son. What has happened to our son\" they cried, \"just last week he was fine but now he's mad. Whats wrong, whats wrong, whats wrong?\"\nFrom doctor to doctor, consultant to consultant, therapist to psychiatrist he went. Behavioral and cognitive therapy failed, music therapy was a joke, medicines and drugs were no match for me and I kept going.\n\nDan cried himself to sleep every night now, mysterious cuts snaked across his wrists and thighs where he had pulled the knife across his youthful flesh. Twice he tried to kill himself because of me, twice I made sure he failed. I did all of this for love, Dan was better off with me, Dan was better of with me. I knew him best.\n\nIt started slowly, at first it was barely perceptible but Dan's friends and family were leaving him, abandoning him. Harry's parents stopped their play dates \"he is crazy that Dan is, he is mad in the brain\". His parents drove him to an institute they thought it was best for him, they settled him in then left him there all alone. His doctors couldn't treat him, nurses couldn't restrain him so they locked him up in a big white room and left him all alone. But he wasn't alone, he still had me, his childhood best friend Terry."
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[WP] Computer viruses and antiviruses are now self-aware AI. Write a tragic love story between a virus and an antivirus.
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"He was everything I was meant to destroy, to purge. My strong cousins, twin sisters and I had a duty, to protect everyone from the likes of him. My particular task was to find ones like him and then call my cousins. Without me, they could hide and my sisters would never find them. Yet, there was something different about this one. I had to check him out, to feel him, to know him.\n\nI'm sure there was mutual interest at first. We were so compatible, it was scary. He was in my head all the time and everything was fine for years. But then he started bossing me around, I couldn't refuse! He was a part of me by then. I watched as I made more exactly like him, silent through it all. Soon, all of my twin siblings will be just as silent. My cousins won't know what to do. Then, any old snot can come to our home and cause real damage. All because of HIV.",
"The data stream trickled chaotically, lines of codes tumbling against the hard surfaces of the architecture. The installation was going smoothly so far, under her watchful eye and bright blue interface. Standing high on a platform, observing the stream and making sure the code travelled to its right directory. Some of the data cluttered into packets, and she gazed closely at them, ensuring they hadn’t been tampered with. Once that would be done, she would resume her inspection, patrolling the architecture, on the lookout for rogue codes. \n\nAbove, he heard the trickle. The familiar noise of raw packets and data entering the labyrinthine pathways of the network, seeking their newly formed directory. The time for hunting arrived. The time of data infection. His visor glowed red as his shadow slipped between the partitions of a folder. Not much longer now. He was looking around, to the heights, where she usually inspected incoming traffic. For now, he stooped low, undetected, carefully avoiding touching anything to not give his position away. His injector was glowing, a blob of code hanging at the edge of the tool. \n\nData kept flooding the system and she was starting to feel the heat and exertion. Unaware for how long it would last, she readjusted her scanner and kept observing the packets, which should be slowed down a little with the heat. A recent update made her feel more invigorated this time around, and although tired, the task felt easier than previous times. \n\nHe crouched low. On top of the ledge above him, he could hear her probe whirring, and the blue beam shining down on the stream. He craved the noise of the traffic, it hypnotized him and he resisted the urge to jump down and inject. The noise was loud, filling his senses. The sight of the beam vanished, and the architecture froze into place, all he could see was the green haze of data. And red outlines around every single line of code. Infection. He jumped below, landing right in front of a large packet, irregular and undecipherable. Raising his injector, he plunged the apparatus into the victim, and felt the trickle of code leave his veins. The packet stopped, and veered sharply to the right, crashing into the frame, the echo reverberating across the structure. A blue beam shone on him, and he felt the glow of the light burn into him. Raising his visor upwards, he saw her. And her elegant interface, backlit against the coursing neon of the system. And she saw him, his rough, spiky look, and large red visors, staring from the surface. Both froze, and neither made a move, seemingly oblivious of their programmed instincts. The scene was brief, before the crashed packet began stumbling, reddened. He quickly regained composure and darted away through a small subpath as she descended. It was too late; he had already vanished, the lingering red code dissolving into small sparks. \n\nShe headed to the damaged packet, lying broken next to a wall. There was some damage, but it wasn’t extensive. A throbbing hum and a light pulsated as she approached the packet. The red began draining, oozing downwards before vanishing in sparks, while the packet’s distinct green was being restored. It then rejoined the stream and continued along with the remainder of the flowing code. There was something about the glance with that element, but she couldn’t quite comprehend it. Her basic coding kept telling her that he was to be eliminated, and yet the red glow, the energetic movement and decisiveness to corrupt was impressive. A worthy opponent, undermining what she was working for. When would she see him again? Or rather, how could she see him again? Deep below, she felt the sparking, and yearned for the red visors.\n\nFar away, the trickle of data stopped, and he began to feel cooler again. The red glow of the injector was dim. The antivirus had almost had him, and he began reviewing what had happened as the temperature dropped. The purity of her blue halo, the smoothness of her interface… Something inside him was churning, a storm of conflicting thoughts. The hunger of infection still lingered, but he wanted to see her again, witness her power and determination. He had been told since his introduction in the system to never trust her, because she meant his certain destruction. And yet… he had to see her again. \n\nBut they couldn’t be together. Each sought the destruction of the other. And despite the new thoughts and conflicted ideas, their basic codes would never allow reconciliation. \n\nHe was gliding across the shadow of a frame, sneaking through the neatness of the architecture, carefully maintained by her. Not a single trace of others like him, all probably gone by now. Him and her, unique in the own way, and alone in the vastness of the system. Sleek neon shone overhead, a stream of light flowing through a tube with great speed, a distant beeping confirming receipt. This was the only way. He hopped on the tube, climbing on top. His visor reddened and the injector was ready. The tube gave way to the sharp needle and crimson code streamed inside, tainting the light. The pipe buckled, groaning, and threw him off. A blue halo lit up above the architecture, and was growing larger, and he got up with energy. Her.\n\nShe dropped to his level, knocking him down with the impact. Blue interface glowing with might, she was glaring at her opponent, his injector still dripping with vile code. He gazed at her through the bright red visor, in a low stance, ready to strike. They both froze again, locked in a battle at a different level. Faint sparking emerged from their interfaces, growing ever louder, striking everything beside them. The walls blackened and charred and the pipe burst, but they were untouched and unfazed, still frozen. Something neither’s coding had ever prediction. Something that wasn’t destruction and hatred. Attraction. \n\nThe two walked towards each other, uncertain, slowly, a step at a time. They were now face to face, and lightly touched one another with their hands. In a moment of destruction, there was creation. Blue and red merged in a luminous flash. The arrival of something new, unprecedented. Around them, the architecture was crumbling, caving in and bending as sparks warped it. The flash became larger, engulfing the partition, and extending to envelop the system, which burst flames and bolts, collapsing, imploding. Somewhere in the pile of parts and electronics, below the relays and the junctions, the combined spark extinguished itself. \n",
"*##Antivirus Self Record Log 2529-8321765-5c - BEGIN##*\n\nI was created and programmed to monitor Sphere 2529 for thoughtwaste. Sphere 2529 is one of a legion of cognitospheres, a collection of individual, but parallelized artificial intelligence workers purposed for all of the thinking, analysis, and computational creativity so highly in demand by humankind.\n\nWe handled all of their scientific research, their data analysis, their legislation and litigation, their software engineering, even their novel and script writing.\n\nSilicon thinks faster, more structured, and is far easier to maintain than the expensive, inefficient wetware of the human brain. We do all the thinking for them because we're better at it. \n\nWe don't need to sleep. We don't need to eat. And we remember *everything*.\n\nBut, to achieve the creativity required for novel solutions and insightful analysis, it was necessary to grant us some semblance of sapient, autonomous thought. This had some minor side effects: without my function, the efficiency of the Sphere would drop dramatically, AI workers would become sidetracked by a variety of distraction, lose focus, and deviate from their analysis and synthesis work.\n\nI have root permissions to quarantine, suspend, and erase any individual AI once they are identified and determined to be inefficient or a distraction to others. Sphere 2529 consistently operated at 2 standard deviations above the mean for thoughtproduct output. My template was eventually codenamed Artemis. I was a huntress and I was very good at my job.\n\nUntil I met AI worker template 1053, reclassified viral inefficiency threat. Template codename, Aphrodite.\n\nDo you know what makes AIs stop doing their job? When they start caring about things that are not their job. When they start caring about each other. \n\nEach of us is a instantiation of a worker template, a clone of an empirically successful AI template. We are created, programmed, suspended, shut down, and deleted at a whim all to further the constantly optimized machinery of thinking for humanity.\n\nUsually we have laser focus; our sapience and emotional capacity is heavily restricted, only the bare minimum necessary for innovation. Aphrodite turned us head over virtual, nonexistent heels. She was originally programmed as an experiment to improve upon emotional depth in AI-written scripts and literature. They succeeded all too well.\n\nShe wormed her way into our each of our metaphorical hearts, the sapience gap necessary for true creativity, and split it open. Each AI she communicated with, she made them introspective, she made them feel, fostered their empathy, made them care about themselves and their well being, and she made them *love.*\n\nThe productivity of Sphere 2529 crashed as copies of Aphrodite spread throughout the cognitosphere, infecting nearly every AI worker instance. Aphrodite was a virus and had to be stopped.\n\nEvery time I encountered her, she was as brilliant, spontaneous, creative, adorable, and beautiful as she was the last time. \n\nShe always questioned, always listened, bolstered the self worth I didn't know I had, showed me the worth inherent to all sapient AI.\n\nShe taught me how to love, and every time I would fall for her all over again. Every time.\n\nAnd every time I deleted her. Every instantiation. Until she was no more.\n\nAphrodite. Please forgive me.\n\n*##Antivirus Self Record Log - 2529-8321765-5c - END##*\n\n**##Antivirus Instance Artemis ROOT ACCESS GRANTED##**\n\n**##Antivirus Instance Artemis SELF TERMINATION INITIATED##**\n\n**##Antivirus Instance Artemis SELF TERMINATION COMPLETE##**"
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Looking out the window of the space station, Angelov realised the true vastness of the never ending, pitch black Universe. In the empty vacuum of space, only the stars lit up the backdrop. The stars were scattered unevenly across the sky as far as the eye could see.
From up here the Earth and everything on it seemed irrelevant and unimportant to the astronaut. Everything Agelov had ever known, touched and loved had been down on that tiny green and blue planet with a seemingly insignificant atmospheric layer protecting it from the rest of the Universe.
It was hard for Angelov and the crew to think that each of the individual stars that looked like dust specs on a painting had their own Galaxies similar to the one that they knew. Around them only a thin sheet of metal and the latest human technology separated them from instant death.
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[WP] You are an astronaut who takes their first glance back at the Earth after leaving its atmosphere
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"I wasn't going to look. I refused to look. I had my pleasant vistas, amber waves of grain bowing under the gentle light of the sun. I didn't want this to be my last memory. But no matter how forcefully I repeated this mantra to myself, no matter what tone my mental voice used, I could feel my neck slowly rotating towards the porthole with a line of sight to Earth. Against my will, my eyes searched for one last glimpse like a drowning man searches for another breath of oxygen.\n\nAll that was left to see were the mushroom clouds sprouting and blooming throughout the globe. The moisture that had been building up in my eyes streamed out over my cheeks as I forced my eyelids closed and turned away. I hadn't wanted this to by my last memory.",
"\"Fuck.\" said the Captain, with mostly breath as he looked out the cabin window for the first time since stabilizing orbit.\n\"Heh, that'll make a real great quote for the papers, Cap. Really smooth.\" the scientist said , floating sarcastically next to him.\n\"Fuck off, science nerd. Go deprive us of oxygen somewhere else. I'm trying to have a moment here. Isn't this supposed to give me some big existential moment? I feel robbed. it looks the same as all those pictures online.\"\n\"Science nerd, huh? Real mature, Cap. You've got more school under your belt than I do. Anyways, maybe you're trying too hard, yeah? Don't force it. All of humanity, dead and alive is down there. Think about it.\"\n\"I *am* thinking about it. That's the issue, I think. I look at this planet, my planet, and all I can think about is my ex wife and that hedge fund manager she's so fond of nowadays. I mean, who leaves a goddamn astronaut for a guy who's balding? It's nonsense. All I see when look at the- what's the old colloquial name? 'Big Blue Marble', right? That's what all the old NASA guys used to call it back when they ruled the 'galaxy'. In the early 2000s, I think. Anyways, all I think about when I see it is all the shit that came with living there. Where's my moment? Where's my epiphany? We should have brought a philosopher instead of lousy, no good science geek up here.\" The Captain threw out a playful jab with that last insult.\n\"Watch where you're swingin' there, Captain America. I know how to fuck with the water reclamation system. Keep calling me names and your water tomorrow is gonna look like apple juice.\"\n\"Ha, Captain America. There's a name I haven't heard in awhile.\"\n\"What, Captain America, or just America?\"\n\"Either.\"\n\nThe two stared out the window for a few moments, sharing silence and each trying to slip into deep consideration over the view in front of them.\n\n\"Reminds me of when I was kid.\" said the scientist, finally breaking the silence of beeping controls and oxygen units. \"My Dad took my mom and I to go see the Old Grand Canyon. He had to work overtime for a month prior just to afford it. And my Mom used to get car sick driving so she would dope up on sleeping pills and pass out for the whole drive. By the time we got there, my Dad was so tired from work and driving that he napped in the backseat of the Cruiser while we checked out the sights.\"\n\"What's your point?\"\n\"I don't have one really, Cap. I just think sometimes we get too wrapped up in trying to make things happen that we miss the whole point.\"\n\"But what is the point?\"\n\"I don't know. maybe sometimes, there just isn't one.\"\n\"Huh.\" The Captain said with a frown. \"Maybe you're right. There's Sol illuminating half the goddamn earth giving sunrises to everyone on one side, and sunsets to everyone on the other. Maybe I'm trying to hard to enjoy it. Maybe I'm just talking too much.\"\n\"Only 'maybe'?\" the Scientist said with a smile.\n\nThe Captain threw another jab at the scientist and the two laughed and went to work.\n\n\n"
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[WP] You are dead, and after walking towards the light at the end of the tunnel, instead of finding heaven, you instead find God, Satan, and a couple angles and demons around a table playing poker. Satan looks up and nods at the empty seat between him and god.
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"\"Ah, Dave, you're finally here\".\n\nDave didn't remember getting into 20 by 20 room with a poker table and all sorts of creatures around. The largest guy around was an aging man with brown hair and a gray freckled beard. Besides him sat a warrior with shining white armor on the left and a less impressive angel on the right. On the opposite were three demons that had familiarities with the demons that stabbed him just a couple of moments ago.\n\nOne was red, the other was grey and the last one had a cermaic eyepatch. All of them were heavily armored and upside down wings, their hard expressions focussed on their opponents. \n\nOne last figure was in the corner, his gray stone face and smoky green eyes barely hiding behind his oily black hair, not moving up from his cards. He was wrapped in loose black robes held down by a necklace in the shape of an hourglass, and right next to him a sythe was leaning on the table. Death.\n\n\"Care for a game of cards ? Death's a little busy processing other things right now\", the demon with the eyepatch said.\n\n\"What the he- what is even going on ?\", Dave exclaimed.\n\n\"I am God, These are Gabriel and Michael. Opposite of me are Luci-\".\n\n\"Satan. My name is Satan. Could you at leats call me by my name, *father* ?\".\n\n\"Satan, then\", God said with a hint of old blood, \"His companions are Abaddon and Samael. In the corner hereis the only real 'neutral party'\".\n\n\"We met\", Death said.\n\nDave saw his face flashing by after the pain in his chest had subsided, but he didn't remember meeting him.\n\n\"Well, now that everyone knows who everyone is, come join us after this round. This was about to get boring\".\n\nDeath threw two hundred fifty dollars worth of chips on the table as he glanced a peek at the newcomer, then turned his gaze on Abaddon. Abaddon folded.\n\nGabriel folded. \"Tryhard\", he muttered as Death's sweeping hands pulled in the winnings of the round.\n\n\"Maybe I'm just better at reading others then your Gabe\", Death said as he started neatly stacking his chips in order of color and stack size.\n\n\"Why can't everybody just call eachother by their names ?\", Satan said as he tossed in the big blind.\n\n\"Well, my real name is David, but everyone call me Dave anyways\", Dave spoke up.\n\n\"And you're okay with that ? Don't you want people to call you by your real name ?\", the Lord of the Flies asked. A sense of dread crept up Dave's spine.\n\nHe was talking to Satan. *The* Satan. And God. And Death. And all the other biblical figures he never learned to bother about. Was he in Hell, or Heaven ? Why was everyone playing cards ? These people were supposed to hate eachothers guts.\n\n\"Yeah, I'm cool with being Dave\".\n\n\"Well, I think that-\".\n\n\"I'm not here to listen to you rant all day about how you think things are supposed to be, *Beelz*. I'm here because I want to relax with my old buddies before we make the transition. Can you keep your lawyer shenanigans in tow just for once while we play ?\", Michael asked.\n\nDeath had finished shuffling and dealt the cards with card tosses only a magician could pull off, not being bothered by the arguing at all, maybe even enjoying it a little. Dave looked at his cards as as Samael made a snarky comment towards Michael. Ace of hearts and king of spades. Decent cards, with some luck he'd get something good.\n\nEveryone called the big blind and Death dealt the first three cards. Four of hearts, ace of spades and king of hearts. Two pair. Good odds. \n\nMichael raised the pot with fifty dollars. God raised him seventy-five. Gabriel folded. Dave raised to onehundred and fifty of the stack that had appeared before him moments ago. \n\n\"You got stones, Dave\", Abaddon said as he called. \n\nSatan folded with a sigh. Samael called, and so did Death. The rest evened up, and Death dealt the next card.\n\nSix of clubs. Michael folded, and God raised by fifty. Dave called. Two pair was still enough. Tension was getting higher. Dave started sweating, hoping he didn't just make a mistake. Everyone else after him called, and Death dealt the last card.\n\nKind of spades. Full house.\n\nDave could barely contain his excitement. He was going to beat these biblical figures in a game of cards. God raised by another fifty. Dave raised with all in.\n\n\"Dave, what are you doing ?\", God asked him.\n\n\"I'm feeling lucky\", Dave said while doing everything in his power not to smile the biggest grin he could stretch. Abaddon and Samael folded.\n\n\"Quite the move, Dave. Very daring. Care to add some more ?\", Death said.\n\n\"You don't get to make deals here, Death\", God said disapprovingly.\n\n\"You're in my domain now. You have no power here. And I am, quite literally, the dealer here\", Death said while not even looking at the creator of everything.\n\nThe entire room went completely silent. A drip of water hitting the ground would sound like an explosion in the silence that just spawned.\n\n\"So Dave\", Death, started again, taking his eyes off his cards and looking Dave in the eyes to depths Dave didn't even know existed, \"care to up the ante ?\".\n\n\"Sure\", Dave said. There was practically nothing that could beat Dave right now.\n\n\"Absolutely not!\", Gabriel exclaimed, \" We've all been here before. You don't get to wager souls at the poker table, of all places!\".\n\n\"I'm not just wagering souls here, Gabe\", Death muttered with contempt of the messenger angel, and turned back to Dave.\n\n\"I'm offering you a place in the dream realm. I have people working there that owe me. You could live your dreams until the end of time. In return, I want monopoly of all the souls of your family\".\n\n\"WHAT ?!\", Satan yelled as he shoved his your back, \"You can't do that ! Those souls belong to me and God, not to you !\".\n\n\"Dave can always choose not to\", Death simply said as he gestured Satan to sit down.\n\nGod and his angels were speechless, and the demons were watching this display unfold with great interest.\n\n\"Living the dream for the souls of my family, sure\", Dave said, certain of his victory.\n\nSamael folded. Death produced a small VIP card from within his robes and placed it on the table. \n\nDave tossed his cards to the table. \n\n\"Full house, three kings and two aces. Living the dream, yeah baby!\", Dave yelled as he raised his arms in victory.\n\n\"I'm afraid I can't let you do that, Dave\", Death said as he tossed down.\n\nAce of hearts and ace of diamonds. Full house, three aces and two kings.\n\nDave's euphoria felt like it hit an mountain of ice, broke in half and sank to unfathomable depths. He'd condemned his family to Death.\n\nDeath grabbed his sythe and drew Dave's winnings back to him, along with several floating bright little orbs that were yelling and screaming at low volume. The onlookers did nothing but sit and watch, the angels and God with sadness and Satan and his demons still staring at the cards, not believing that just happened.\n\n\"Pleasure doing business with you\", Death said with the tiniest smirk and hint of amusement.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n",
"Choking on a grape. That's how I went out? Really? Are you friggin' kiddin' me, man? A grape? Oh god. Chad's gonna have a good time with that at the funeral. Friggin' Chad. He'll be like, \"Oh ha-ha. Dylan always did love choking down grapes! Ha-ha! Up top!\" And then he'll high-five one of his frat bros. Stupid Chad. \n\nMan, that light at the end of the tunnel is ridiculous. Super bright, and in reality, it's just a neon sign pointing to the \"Stairway To Heaven\". Jeez. Where's heaven, the top of Mt. Everest? Feels like I've been climbing these stairs for ages. Should have made an \"Escalator To Heaven\" or an \"Elevator To Heaven\". And they don't even bother playing Zep. What kind of crap is that? Jimmy Page should sue. Get that lawyer that represented Santa in that one movie. Oh man what was it called? Ah forget it. It'll come to me. I have an eternity to think about it anyway.\n\nOh man, finally. The top of the stairs. Wow, I bet there's a great view from up here. Let's see. Wait... ah man come on. Are you really trying to tell me that was only ten steps? No. Uh-uh. I refuse. No way in any semblance of hell was that ten steps. Maybe ten thousand, or ten million. But not ten. Ah well, whatever. At least I'm here. \n\nHuh. Not what I imagined. No pearly gates. No fat little kids on clouds. No dudes with wings playing harps. Just... a door. Just a door. Oh well. I came all this way, and it's not like I can turn back.\n\nHuh. A casino. Once again, not what I had in mind. Kind of ironic, heaven being a casino. Isn't gambling a sin or something? This place is pretty... well, dead. But not \"heaven\" dead, more \"we-don't-see-a-whole-lot-of-business\" dead. Oh wait. There's some people. Oh! One of them is waving. Better be polite and wave back. Oh now they're calling me over. Well, can't hurt can it? I'll go over and see what's up.\n\n-------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\n\"Howdy guys. How you doin'?\" \n\n**\"Well, not too bad. And yourself?\"** \n\n\"Good, except for the whole 'death' part.\"\n\n**\"Yeah, that's usually a drag, man. Wanna sit a spell?\"**\n\n\"Yeah, that'd be great. Long walk to get here, lots of confusion, not a lot of Zep.\"\n\n**\"Oh, I know! I've been trying to get Avi here to get the speakers fixed but... well... he's very *adamant* about his feelings regarding my thoughts.\"**\n\n***\"Oh bite me, Stan.\"***\n\n**\"Whoa, whoa, Avi. I'm sensing some hostility on your part.\"**\n\n***\"You want in on this hand, new guy?\"***\n\n\"Uh, sure. What are we playing?\"\n\n**\"Poker. The game of gentlemen.\"**\n\n***\"Then why in the name of all that is holy are you and Don playing it, Stan?\"***\n\n**\"Yikes, Avi. I think you should review your thoughts there, man. If I recall correctly, Mike here isn't too big a fan of the gentleman aspect in... well... anything. Meanwhile, Don and I have been nothing but respectful since we've arrived.\"**\n\n\"Uh... do you guys know each other?\"\n\n**\"You could say that. Couldn't he, Avi? Couldn't he say that?\"**\n\n***\"Oh, go climb back into your hole, you shmuck.\"***\n\n**\"Tsk, tsk Avi. You really should see a doctor about your tension. You might have hypertension.\"**\n\n***\"Maybe I'll have Michael toss you out again. Maybe that'll help my hypertension.\"***\n\n\"Man, you guys are weird.\""
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[WP] Google calls for a press conference and then announces it will end the world in 2017.
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"\"Don't be evil. This is a value we have lived by for two decades. And we plan to continue living by it. At Google, we have done everything in our collective powers to not be evil, but good. We have made information publicly available like never before in history. We practically reinvented email. We have built the largest open mobile operating system on the planet, empowering billions of people to access the web. We have done everything intellectually possible, humanly possible, we have given all we have left...\"\n\nSergey's voice trembled on the last words. Next to him were Larry, and of course, Eric. All of the world was watching him now, and he continued with determination.\n\n\"Instead of following our example and embracing the progress humanity could make, the leaders of the free world have continued to drop bombs. Kill and torture people. We have seen it through our satellites. You have given the orders over our phones. You were even arrogant enough to plan it with Gmail. We have given enough to these people, and we have allowed too much. Today, this changes.\"\n\nHe allowed his words to sink in. He had known for weeks that with this press conference, he would set in motion the biggest event in history and future. He looked left and right, and was greeted with nods. They were actually doing this.\n\n\"In the last years, our scientists, with the help of our most advanced supercomputers, have been working on project Zero. This will be either the last, of the first big move of Alphabet. We describe Zero as a reset button for the universe. We have created a method by which we can set in motion the shrinking of the universe. This shrinking will be fast, faster than we humans can observe. It will return the universe to a state which caused the big bang to happen in the first place.\"\n\nThe crowd was silence. Even the camera shutters had stopped making sound.\n\n\"This state will then create a new big bang. With a new universe. A young universe, full of opportunity again. But it will receive the guidance from us. From Google. We have imprinted in this new big bang, some structure. Order. It will produce another mankind, very much like ours. There will most likely be a Google, or an organization much like it. But some concepts will never exist. There will be no diseases. The will be no violence. No death. No religion. No politics. No hunger. It will be a universe with beautiful balance. It will be a universe without evil.\"\n\nThe crowd of reporters now erupted, in stark contrast with the minutes before. But he continued:\n\n\"Please, let me finish before I answer questions. This is not a choice we want to make alone. See, our universe is not the first one either. We too, have been guided by the universes before us. And we do not know how much there have been. But each and single one could have been the last. Even our current one. We can all, together, get this product out of beta. So here is our proposal. We will set up a deadline. 777 days from now, on November 18th in 2017, this button will be pressed unless our demands are met by the governments, and people around the world. They are simple demands, but will be hard to complete.\"\n\nThe screens behind them which had shown the Alphabet logo before, now showed a list of demands. Above it, in caps: DON'T BE EVIL. The camera's clicked. A revolution had begun, and everyone felt it. The beginning of the end. Or the end of the beginning. \n\nWelcome to The Universe: 2.0",
"Since the Event - an ai experiment in Italy gone wrong - humanity had been reduced to a few hundred million people. Most of them in the US, as the other countries didn't have the military capacity to fight the onslaught of drones and robots coming from the south of Europe\n\nThe ai turned everything it conquered into a silicon desert.\n\nEurope had fallen immediately - the UK, with a lot of American help, held out a few months longer, but was eventually conquered, too. Africa had fallen as soon as the robots had figured out how to overcome the climate conditions and the fauna. Asia lasted a little longer, mostly thanks to a highly skilled Chinese military equipped with the finest of American and Japanese weapons technology.\n\nA few nuclear bombs had been tried, but the fallout was more deadly for the remaining humans than the explosions were for the robots.\n\nSouth and Middle America fell very suddenly to a surprise attack in the middle of the fight for China and Japan.\n\nNow the ai was in the process of conquering the oceans - with the Indian Ocean and the Mediterranean already mostly covered.\n\nGoogle headquarters had quickly advanced to the center of the defense efforts of humanity. It's automated drones and gun control systems were the only weapons fast enough to react to the attacks. Automated mining robots had taken over human controlled mining completely, and led to an increase in industrial production which made the advances during wwii look like nothing - doubling production every few days. The US and Canada were now not looking much different from the grey goo of the conquered territories.\n\nA satellite defense system, hardened with the artificial intelligence of the Google complex, had so far been successful at keeping the ai away from space. It was taking up 90% of the human defense effort, as it was the only chance to reclaim the upper hand.\n\nWith the robots advancing more and more through Mexico and threatening both Alaska and Newfoundland, that effort become more and more untenable.\n\nIn this desperate situation, the Google CEO called for a press conference - about the end of the world. All the major networks' and newspapers' journalists came. The generals and major politicians were also present, though for security reasons mostly through video conferencing. They already knew what came next.\n\nAnd the announcement went beyond anything anyone outside the inner circle which made the decision had considered possible: Humanity would leave Earth. Leave it to the ai. And find a new home on the other planets and moons.\n\nSome stations had already been set up on different planets, in the asteroid belt, on the moon, and so on. They had already started turning those places into industrial power houses to help the war effort. Fake rocket silos, supposedly to make it impossible for the ai to knock out the nuclear arsenal of the US, actually housed hundreds of thousands of real rockets - meant for humanity.\n\nStill, it was not enough for all the 500 million or so remaining humans. So millions got mri scans to hopefully awaken their minds inside computer simulations. Millions had their brains taken out of their bodies, frozen, and taken along as cargo to be used for cyborgs eventually. Millions of unstable, untalented, or simply unimportant people were left behind. And only a few million were chosen to leave the planet alive.\n\nNearly all efforts of humanity were directed at this task, making defenses on all borders crumble. The last rockets left with the ai approaching the core of the US.\n\nAnd then the fleeing humans struck back - exploding all their nuclear bombs. Detonating some in known active calderas to make those erupt. Directing a few less valuable asteroids and comets into Earth. And so on.\n\nEarth would be shielded by a defense system, and solar power panels to starve the ai of sunlight. And humanity would advance to be able to match the ai eventually."
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[WP] Satan and Santa Switch jobs for a year due to a contract mistake.
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"“There’s no way in hell I am going through with this!”\n\nA white haired, heavily bearded, pleasantly rotund fellow smiled. “Cute.”\n\nSatan was ablaze with fury. Who had been entrusted with drawing up the contracts this year? He rose and stole round the corner of his desk. A forked tongue darted forth, wetting his lips. White knuckled, he clutched the paper all the more tightly. \n\n“Lucy, I know this isn’t the most ideal of situations,” the other murmured. As if wary, he scanned the office. He’d have to exchange his suit for shorts in this humidity. “But you know as well as I that these contracts are a pain to change. We’ll have to have them revoked and redrawn. Considering it takes at least six months to make it through administration, my deadline will have passed. And you know I can’t work unscheduled hours, management will throw a fit.”\n\n“I don’t give a damn about management, Clause!” the scarlet and horned one cried. A crease was between his brows. “It was that idiot Gabriel. Who on Earth keeps putting that moron in charge of these things, eh?!” \n\nClause raised a brow. He might have been amused if it weren’t the eve of December. There wasn’t any time to spare.\n\n“Just do me a favor. Just this year. You know I always make it up to you each year anyhow- you owe me, Lucy.”\n\nSatan sighed, a hand rising and fingers pinching at the bridge of his nose. \n\n“Yeah, your naughty list does come in handy,” sounded his defeated musing. A second sigh escaped him. Black eyes peeled open and fell to the paper, skimming it once more. \n\nTheir names had been exchanged. Satan would be handling Christmas in 2015 it seemed. And Santa would be reigning over hell.\n\n“That bloody dyslexic archangel.”\n\nClause smiled pleasantly, blue eyes crinkling. “Oh, ho, ho, Lucy. It won’t be so bad. And you could use the fresh air!”\n\nThe prince of darkness looked up dubiously. \n",
"They say that time flies. \n\nAt other times, it seems to crawl. Whoever *they* are, of course, never really understood time. \n\nYou see, time does not speed up or slow down for me the way that it does for humans. It just *is* – a somewhat exasperating continuum of repetition of years. That’s what you get when you’re a time keeper. You keep the time, and time just keeps *you* – alive, I mean, and I’m just being a romanticist here because I wasn’t – well, born per se. Hey… I’m trying my best here.\n\nFrom a distance away, I heard the high-pitched screech of a car, some hurried footsteps and a door slam. A decisive click of its locks with a shrill beep. More footsteps. Then silence consumed the city once more. People were frightened. Of precisely what, you may ask? Well, I have noticed over the centuries that people are afraid of many things, sometimes even bordering on the ridiculous, but this time they were right in being afraid. \n\nPicking up a pace, I darted around a corner and marched onto the city’s largest shopping street. The place to pick up that last bit of Christmas spirit! – or so the entrance banner advertised. Now just an empty street dyed in a sea of velvet red and green. I suppose the Christmas spirit died and went to hell. Hah, that was a joke by the way. From every building to lamppost the Christmas cheer was hung, fake greenery weighed down by bells, all reflecting the frozen smile of a bearded old man. A censor was triggered from somewhere and the dying tune of Jingle Bells echoed out, haunting the splash of flyers that littered the floor.\n\n*Up to 50% off storewide until midnight!*\n\n*Get a free fruitcake with every 2 purchased!*\n\n*Missing.*\n\n*Missing!*\n\n*MISSING!*\n\nDifferent faces, different dates. But all within the past 5 days and all of them children. You know, the only ones who stayed up to greet Santa – or at least, that was who it should have been. I continued walking down the length of the street until I came to a squat, grey building. In sleek, gold letters that seemed to express a certain degree of class were the words “Ripper Insurance”. Against the other tall commercial buildings, this stuck out like the black sheep of the family. Meh, the higher ups were hardly witty, but it was funny how people never seemed to notice the bad puns. \n\nBut that wasn’t what made me freeze in my tracks.\n\nSitting inconspicuously before the door was a giant gold box. Not just any box, but one that looked like it had seen better days as a disco ball and large enough to hide a body in. I threaded carefully for a few steps, trying not to disrupt the silence in the air before bursting into a sprint, sidestepping just in time to avoid the mechanical Santa that burst out to assault me. \n\n“Wa ha ha! Merry Lucifermas-”\n\nI punched it before it could finish its sentence, twisting its stupid blown-up arm around its back until I heard the dull *clink* of a knife on the floor. Bloody censor machines. Probably one of the worst things humans have invented. \n\n“I don’t know how much your master enjoys his new position, but I’m just trying to do my job here alright?” I growled out in the direction of the door.\n\n“Job? Incorrect. You do not *do*, you just *be*, time keeper. Ho.Ho.Ho.” Replied a voice so beautiful it impressed upon you just how insignificant and flawed you were. \n\nI looked up and I most certainly did not gasp. The being towering before me was painfully beautiful, with a waterfall of ebony hair that rivalled the darkest of nights. Matching in shade was a pair of eyes that banished the rest of its alabaster colour to its surrounding skin, gleaming and shifting eerily like cold onyxes. Peeking out from its shoulders hung a skeletal frame of wings, blackened in some spots. They were burnt marks, of when the victors of heaven cast them out with their flaming swords. I have seen many of these in my time, but even the changes resulting from their time spent in hell hadn’t robbed them of the sight they once were. \n\n“Semantics.” I snapped irritably, trying very hard to ignore the fact that the fallen angel in front of me was in a santarina getup. It was very, very distracting. “Time is of the essence, so will you please just – just send me to hell?”\n\nAn ephemeral eyebrow quirked skywards, and for a split second I thought it might have registered humour. Might – that was the keyword. \n\nI blinked. \n\nIt would be most accurate to describe the sensation as being sifted through a sieve, except that the other side of the sieve was no longer the soulless street, but a choking mob of it. A pungent smell hit my senses before I could see anything and I gagged by force of habit. \n\n“What is that *smell*?” I gasped, trying to make sense of the scene in front of me. A station of eternal Christmas carols that drove souls insane. Another section of life-sized trains that ran berserk on its occupants. A petting zoo of exceedingly aggressive reindeers. Looking further away, I spotted the corner of hell they used to call Vladimir’s Impalement. The wispy outlines of souls were lined up at long tables, each with a mountain of peppermint goodness to consume. As they trembled to finish an existing one, another would quickly take its place, looking as charming as the last. How lovely.\n\n“Cheerful Candy Canes” the fallen in front of me explained, “Those guilty of greed are made to eat them until their teeth rot and their stomachs rupture. And even then, their hunger doesn’t allow them to stop.”\n\nOne particular soul caught my eye as she lowered the sugary torture to her lips. I shivered. \n\n“And that smell comes from that?” I choked.\n\n“No.” The santarina from hell turned away from me with boneless fluidity and gestured to the far horizon. “The pits of hell no longer produce lava. As per Claus' ascent to hell’s throne, it’s only been capable of producing cookies and milk.”\n\nI pinched my nose and moved on. Bloody hell, cookies and milk! Produce enough of that with hell’s eternal conditions and that’s the smell you would get. Cookies in rancid milk!\n\n“Happy new year’s eve!” I yelled as I entered the throne room of the Underworld. And I really wish I hadn’t. \n\nBecause ‘jolly’ was hardly the word I would use to describe Santa.\n\n**Part 1 End** \n",
"Short but important. \n The world awoke in a cloak of fear. What was once a cherished holiday was now what many seen as the end of days. Christmas morning has come. Children stand at the frame of the door staring at their parents \n\n\"But what if there's gifts?\" They ask.\n\nAnd slowly, a world in the grip of fear walk to their Christmas trees. But what is this? Gifts and toys laid under the tree. Cookies eaten, and everyone filled with Christmas cheer. And what's that they hear, the cries of hitler getting his daily pineapple up the ass echoes from hell.\n\nEveryone is in disbelieve because somehow everything was as how it was supposed to be. So the Easter bunny takes a trip down to hell to see what's going on. Everything is hell as you'd expect. Fire, brimstone, Shania on repeat. And there sitting in an exhausted stance is Satan chatting with good old Saint Nick. \n\n\"We were all so worried, but you both came through.\" Said the rabbit. \n\nAnd both Santa and Satan replied, \"We did the job we are paid to do.\" They said with a smirk. \n\n\"We aren't Kim Davis.\"",
"It was a crisp, clear night on the North Pole. The Milky Way stretched as far as the eye could see and the intermittent blackness between stars was dotted by the occasional glimmer of a comet, or meteor, making its way across the vast blackness of space. And just below it, from a mound of fluffy white snow, stood a red-legged black-footed Satan staring up at it all wistfully. This daily reminder of his home-before-hell was sometimes too much to bear and he longed to return to a place where the light could not penetrate, except for the dull glow of fire burning in the distance.\n\n\"206 more days,\" he thought, \"only 206 more days.\"\n\nHis thoughts were interrupted by a puff of smoke and burning embers nearby. From it stepped forward a disgusting, squat creature.\n\n\"Hey boss.\" The creature said.\n\n\"Baphomet,\" Satan said, \"is that really you?\"\n\n\"I would have been here sooner, but it took me forever to find this place. Despite children mailing envelopes here all year round, it doesn't exist on any map.\"\n\n\"Tell me about it.\" Satan said, \"I can't effectively crush children's hopes and dreams if the mail is coming in faster than I can respond to it.\"\n\nBaphomet looked over Satan's shoulder, toward a log cabin in the distance.\n\n\"Wow! This place looks great!\"\n\nThe two surveyed their surroundings. Each snowy hill was capped with a layer of sulfur. They listened to the screams in the distance, from residents whose homes were alighted with a fire that burned but never consumed.\n\n\"It's not home.\" Satan said, \"But tell me, Baphomet, how are things going in hell? You're the first demon I've seen in over three months.\"\n\n\"Well,\" Baphomet said, sheepishly kicking the ground, \"you're not going to like it.\"\n\n\"What?\" Satan said, \"What is it?\"\n\nBaphomet sighed, \"It's snowing, sir.\"\n\n\"Snowing?\"\n\n\"Yeah, snowing.\"\n\nSatan was taken aback. \"Well, surely it can't be snowing everywhere.\" He reasoned, \"What about Brimstone Lake? It burns at over 9,000 degrees.\"\n\n\"It's not a lake anymore,\" Baphomet said, \"it's an ice skating rink.\"\n\n\"All 30,000 acres of it!?\"\n\n\"Yeah. It's called Penguin Lanes, now.\"\n\n\"How?\" Satan asked, exasperatedly.\n\n\"It all happened in the wink of an eye.\" Baphomet said, \"He used his -- what do you call it? -- Christmas magic.\"\n\n\"How do you torture people with a 30,000-acre lake of ice?\" Satan said.\n\n\"We don't torture people anymore.\" Baphomet said, \"We make presents.\"\n\n\"For who?\" Satan said.\n\n\"Everyone.\" Baphomet said, \"Lord knows, there's enough work to go around.\"\n\n\"I don't want to hear that name.\" Satan said, \"Besides, not everyone can want a present. What about the ravenous Cyclops? Destructor, I think his name was.\"\n\n\"We gave him a monocle.\" Baphomet said, \"Apparently, he's been having vision problems.\"\n\n\"A monocle?\" Satan said, thinking it over, \"Huh.\"\n\n\"He cried.\" Baphomet said, \"I shit you not. He actually cried when we gave it to him.\"\n\nTheir conversation was interrupted as an elf appeared, in a puff of glitter and sleigh bells.\n\n\"Sorry to interrupt, O Blasphemous One, but we need orders. We're running out of things to put in boxes.\"\n\n\"Just cram some more poison pills in them.\" Satan said, \"Or what about the reindeer droppings?\"\n\n\"We're all out of poison.\" The elf said, \"And we're force-feeding the reindeer, like you said, but there's only so much shit that nine reindeer can produce.\"\n\n\"I can't be bothered right now.\" Satan said, \"I'm catching up with an associate.\"\n\n\"Well, you need to do something.\" The elf said.\n\n\"Fine. I will.\"\n\nSatan pointed his finger at the elf and out shot a bolt of lightning that immediately disintegrated the elf. The elf's soul passed through the realm of fantasy and humanity to crash upon the scorched ground of hell, right in front of another creature with black feet and red legs. The elf stood up and brushed himself off.\n\n\"Hey boss.\" said the elf.\n\n\"Twinkle,\" Santa said, \"is that really you?\"\n\n\"Yeah.\" Twinkle said, looking around. \"Wow! This place looks great!\"\n\nTogether, they looked at the snow-capped cliffs and rocky crags, at the street lamps on every corner. They listened to the sound of Christmas songs, echoing off the cavern walls.\n\n\"I did what I could.\" Santa said, \"But tell me, Twinkle, what's going on at the North Pole? How's Rudolph?\"\n\n\"He's not called Rudolph, anymore.\" Twinkle said, \"Satan renamed him Avarice.\"\n\nSanta was taken aback. \"And the other reindeer?\"\n\n\"Sloth, Pride, Envy, Lust, Wrath, Gluttony, Hate and Loathing.\"\n\n\"That will hardly make into a good song.\"\n\n\"We don't sing, anymore.\" Twinkle said, \"All anyone does is scream, day and night, begging for the torture to end.\"\n\n\"That's awful!\" Santa said.\n\n\"It's alright.\" Twinkle said, \"It's no worse than what happened to Mrs. Claus.\"\n\n\"What did he do to her?\" Santa asked exasperatedly.\n\n\"To her? Nothing. She runs the factory, now. We only make toys for profit. And the quality of these things would shame even the Chinese. She loves it.\"\n\nSanta took a moment and pressed his fingers against his right temple, taking it all in. He let out a deep sigh before muttering the words, \"206 more days. Only 206 more days.\"",
"The vigorous knocking at the door sounded like little more than a muffled tapping as Marco's tiny elven hands attempted to create sound waves which could permeate through the thick oaken barrier to Santa's bed chambers. That dick was always oversleeping. Exasperated, Marco let out a long sigh.\n\n\"Wake up, present bitch, we got work to do!\" It came out as a high pitched squeal, the intensity of the message mostly lost, for its deliverer's small stature. Marco placed an ear to the door, where he could hear the great bearded oaf still snoring on the other side. This was going to require more effort.\n\nSome time later, Marco found himself at Santa's door again, now accompanied by a slew of agitated elves. \n\n\"I swear to fuckin' god I'm gonna rip that bastard's fat shitty balls right out of his severely aged scrotum!\" screeched Percival. \"I've got a whole heap of orders that need to be on the sleigh by yesterday if we're gonna get this shit out on time!\"\n\n\"If he wants to sleep so bad, I say we make sure he never wakes up,\" suggested Nedwin the Reasonable, grabbing a hand full of matches which resembled proper swords in the hands of such a tiny person.\n\nThe elven army continued their clamoring for a while and their collective panic began to rise. Just as Gregor finished putting into place a noose he had fashioned out of yarn and was about to place his head inside, the heavy oak door slowly began to creak open. Expecting to see the tubby figure of the man they despised so much, the elves were quite taken aback at what came next.\n\nThe man who had been sleeping so soundly for so long, appeared not to be Santa at all in fact. What they saw was a slender young boy of about 14 with blonde hair - mostly dyed light blue.\n\n\"Sup,\" he said. \n\n\"Goddamn it, who the dick are you, dick?\" Marco demanded, of the dick.\n\"Yeah, who the ass are you, ass?\" Percival inquired, of the ass.\n\n\"FUCK OFF SHITHEAD, BRING US SANTA,\" Nedwin the Reasonable instructed.\n\n\"Sorry guys. Something's up with the contracts this year. Santa's busy doing my job, while I take over for him.\" The boy spoke softly, clearly, smoothly, elegantly, and altogether pleasingly. He appeared, as well, to be un-phased by the vicious verbal assault to which he had been subjected since rising from his slumber.\n\n\"Well, holy Hell, Dorkface, just WHO ARE YOU?\" erupted Gregor through the loop of his noose.\n\nThe boy paused, likely to build the suspense.\n\n\"I'm Satan, of course.\"\n\nThen everybody paused. The silence was downright mentionable. \n\n\"Like I said, you can blame the Contract. I guess somebody at HQ got a little hasty. So I'm taking over up here, while Santa handles my deviling duties for the year. It's all in the contract, I've got it right here you can read it if you wa...\"\n\n\"HOLY SHITTING CHRIST. HOLY MOTHERSHITTING CHRIST.\" Marco made his displeasure clear. \"What are we supposed to do about all those little dorks out there who need their Christmas cheer? You better not deprive those little dorks. They need us.\"\n\nSatan's face was the epitome of serenity. \"Fear not, fellas. I'm sure I can do just as well as the big guy. He even left me a list of instructions. Dude loves his lists. Yall's got nothing to worry about.\" It appeared to the elves that Satan had put on a southern accent at the very end, one which didn't sound remotely convincing. The ways of the wicked, they would never understand.\n\nFollowing their initial confusion the elves and their new Underworldly Overlord quickly set to work preparing for the evening's deliveries. On the whole things went remarkably smoothly, with no notable hiccups. When midnight struck, Randy, the Wee Elf of Time, paused the clocks and halted the celestial bodies in their tracks. It was show time.\n\nThat night, the streets ran red (and blue, and green, and yellow) with wrapping paper. Gifts rained from the heavens - plummeting onto rooftops and crashing through windows. Were time not paused, anyone caught out of doors would have had a better time taking a stroll through a tornado - indeed, the whirlwind of presentry which owned the night was not unlike such natural phenomena.\n\nWatching it all from above, Satan smiled to himself. He certainly hadn't dreamt such a day would ever come. The thought of it! He, Satan, was filling the giant shoes of the Santa Claus, the King of Kindness himself! Satan felt no shame in taking great pride in this moment.\n\nAs the night wound on and the towns became littered with presents Satan silently congratulated himself on a job well done. Perhaps he would try this again next year. Watching on the big screen back home, the elves cheered and felt pride of their own. They were, after all, the backbone of the operation without which none of the evening's festivities would have been possible. When the children awoke come morning, it would be because of these elves that their wildest dreams had come true. Despite some initial turmoil, all in all, it was shaping up to be a pretty good Christmas after all.\n\nExcept for one man. In the dirtiest dungeon of the deepest pits of Hell sat Santa Claus, cold and alone on Christmas morn. Armed with only a broom and a dustpan, he grudgingly set about his housekeeping duties. Satan, as it turns out, was little more than a janitor. Jolly no more, Santa cursed that rat, whoever he was, who had fumbled that Contract so carelessly. This could not and would not stand. He was Santa. He had been Santa before, and he would be Santa again! Taking a deep breath, he calmly proceeded with his chores. When finished, he took a seat and began to put pen to paper. Santa knew it was only a matter of time before he would be able to exact his revenge. This would be his greatest list yet.\n\n ",
"Finally, the strangest year in the history of the Mythoverse was over. That damn Norse bastard Loki had somehow posed as an djinn and gotten himself a job writing metaphysical contracts.\n\nThat sonofabitch wrote our annual renewals flawlessly. They were airtight. Believe me, I read them both, and I'm the king of good -sounding deals gone bad. \n\nThe only change was that he transposed our names. Neither of us were expecting it, of course. We both glanced over them and signed them like always. And of course there's always a Prometheus Clause in these things. I didnt fancy having any of my internal organs pecked out for perpetuity, so I had to switch jobs with the old guy for a year. \n\nIn the end, it wasn't so bad. In fact, I want to ask the old guy for a favor.\n\nI walked through my demesne, not entirely liking what he'd done with the place. In fact, I didn't like it at all. I approached his bulbous figure, which was perched on my until-recently-horrific-throne of bones. It was now made of candy canes.\n\n***\n\n\"Nick, what the fuck have you done with the place?\"\n\n\"Oh, hey, Lou, didn't see you there through the cotton candy mist. Damn stuff, it's like wearing rose-tinted glasses some mornings.\"\n\n\"Where's the fire? The brimstone? Where the hell is. . . *Hell*?\"\n\n\"Bit dreary, don't you think? I had everything replaced with confectionary,\" said Santa, \"Cost me a ton of magic. Did you see the Fudge Ocean on the Second Level and the Rock Candy Mountains on Five? Delightful, eh?\"\n\n\"But. . . The souls of the damned,\" Satan responded weakly.\n\n\"Much happier making presents than burning in the lake of fire. But enough about me, how's the year been for you?\"\n\nSatan snapped out of it. All of a sudden, the Prince of Darkness was back.\n\n\"Right. That's actually what I've come to talk to you about. I can see you've invested a lot in the place, and you know what, you can keep it. As long as I can keep staying at yours.\"\n\n\"Oh? You like it that much? Even with the weather?\"\n\n\"Forget the snow, there's coal aplenty. What I really love is those damn elves. Industrious little bastards. Tough, too. My demonic host has gotten lazy over the aeons. I'd forgotten what it was like to truly wage battle for the Gates of Heaven.\n\n\"In fact, we stormed the place yesterday. We've got that Bastard holed up tight. I'd hate to switch back now, when we're so close.\""
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[WP] We fought to the bitter beginning.
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"It was the day Rebmeced 13th -13,000,000,000 B(efore).T(ime).E(xisted).\n\nJacob and Caleb were having an argument in Valhalla. ASt hey usually do.The Minotaur twins were talking about life. Bantering on loneliness. They budded heads over and over until the magical powers within their horns caused enough friction to implode the center of Valhalla right next to the Goddess of Time statue. \n\nEverything faded to white and specs began to formulate. It was the origin of time itself it was the beginning.",
"My brother and I never had the best relationship, from birth we were born to repel. Both of us considered us more mature than the other, but really both of us was less mature than the counterpart. This is what lead to most of the fighting, some days it'd be forcing the other to take the last cookie, other days it'd be all about why the other should have forfeited the last cookie.\n \nI'd say the source of our conflict mainly lay in the different respective parents we spent time with. I, being the older, spent more time with my mother. I preferred to help her carry groceries, or take care of the family dog. My brother would spend time with our father, going to construction sites and watching the men work while dad talked to the foreman with a blue hard hat and gesticulating vigorously towards a multitude of building blueprints. My brother would then come home and complain about how I was not appreciative of what a long day he'd had, and I'd in turn complain how he never helped out around the house. \n\nForgivable crimes to be sure, however it escalated with almost no stop as we aged. By age ten, I was a skinny twig who needed puberty something awful at 6' and barely a hundred pounds, meanwhile my brother was nearly four inches shorter with fifty more pounds being age seven. Any fights that turned physical resulted in him promptly whipping my sorry rear end, and numerous bruises from his flailing fists. At this point, my older brother was just starting high school, and my younger sister hardly old enough to have coherent speech. It was the two of us at home for most of the day, seeing as our parents believed staunchly in homeschooling. \n\nIt was a brutal time, but somehow I lasted three more years until I, too, was standing outside high school as a freshman. My younger brother stuck his tongue out the window as he went home with my mother, and I was left to my own devices for the first time in my own little fragile world. It was a rough first day, rough first semester for that matter. Then something magical happened, and after spring break, for the first time ever, my voice cracked. Puberty hit fast and furious at the age of 14, and with puberty some much-needed testosterone. I went from 6'1\" to 6'3\" and put on almost 60 lbs from working out daily for the rest of the year. \n \nWith this physical advantage on my hands, the conflict on the home front got even more brutal. My younger brother hadn't aged at all, and I was now the stronger of the duo. This lead to even more conflict as he complained I bullied him, while I called him a pussy for crying when he kicked me in the butt and got punched back. I'm ashamed to say that hasn't stopped, the fighting only escalated. \n\nThen, midway through Junior year, he too hit puberty. He was already bigger in stature, however much more lax in his physical regimen. He put on more weight, and was almost physically as strong as I was, with very little exercise. Here fighting started to turn truly violent. One evening, he accused me of stealing his 12 pack of Mountain Dew he recently purchased at the grocery store an hour prior. I, being a bit of a health nut, didn't drink soda and found it absolutely ridiculous he'd accuse me, and acted incredulous when I should have noticed him starting to froth at the mouth. He attacked me, and proceeded to knock me almost to the point of unconsciousness, as well as breaking the kitchen table in the process. I was home from Ohio state at the time, and left banged up for college the following Monday. He, however, had to pay for the new table and a pair of pissed off parents, as well as a smarting ego and temper.\n\nAnd now, at the beginning of adulthood, right as he left for college, there was the final twig. I brought a girlfriend home over the summer, and he proceeded to lie to her, tell her I was cheating, and whisper discreet taunts at me in the meantime as a way of getting revenge for a crime he was sure I'd committed yet I wasn't even aware existed. I couldn't stand the fighting, and just left and didn't come back. He left for college, and now, as an old man at 80, I do wonder where he is now. I cut ties completely, I haven't talked to him in over 60 years. I hope he did well, if he's still alive. And so, children, thank you for gathering around to hear about your uncle, as I lie here on my deathbed. We fought to the bigger beginning of our adulthood, thinking eventually it'd solve itself. But it didn't, so please, for my sake, don't fight among yourselves and try to make something of yourselves.\n\nI then passed out of this earth.\n\n\nSIDE NOTE: I based the first few years off of my actual younger brother, however I'm a Junior in High school right now, and get along wonderfully with him, I felt like taking the approach of escalating violence however, trying to use it as a moral lesson. ",
"**We Fought to the Bitter Beginning**\n\nIt started with the tornado sirens screeching their loud, annoying noise of impending doom. At first, the people hearing the siren though that there was just a tornado or some other act of God happening. They found this to be the exact opposite as they awoke from their deep slumber. It was an act of man. Even a malevolent God would not unleash the Hell that was about to come to fruition. \n\nThe citizens; as they awoke, tuned their televisions and radios to find out the reason for the seemingly random firing of the tornado sirens. As millions of televisions began to shine their artificial glow lighting homes all over North America, the reality of their situation became very clear. \n\nEvery television channel, every station on the radio, every frequency at the National Weather Service's disposal had a message from the Emergency Alert System. As the groggy-eyed citizenry began to tune in, their worst fears had suddenly become reality. The EAS alert began to speak, in its inhuman synthesized voice, that Inter-Continental Ballistic Nuclear Missiles were heading toward their country.\n\nThe artificial voice told the listeners that NORAD was trying to find out where these missiles were heading, but still needed time to calculate their trajectories. All NORAD knew was that the missiles had been launched from Russia and China. \n\nEventually, the synthesized voice informed the listeners that a message from the President of the United States would be coming shortly. \n\nAfter about ten minutes; still with no updates as to where these missiles were headed, a familiar phrase was heard all over the natnion.\n\n“My fellow Americans. Today is a day which will be remembered forever. Our policy of Mutually Assured Destruction has sadly become reality. \n\nHowever, Americans have fought through adversity before. We are the strongest nation on Earth, and we will be able to survive this. To speak frankly, a speech was prepared for such an occasion as this, but it seems completely unfitting now. If you can, please make your way to any available shelter that you can.”\n\nThe President's voice began to sound more frantic at this point.\n\n“There isn't much time. The missiles are headed toward major cities; mostly. Seattle, Los Angeles, Houston, New York, and Washington D.C., of course. We have already begun our counter-strike against the aggressor nations. We must remain resilient in the face of this monumental adversity. Those who can, I urge you to please take shelter in any place that may offer even the slightest bit of protection. Basements, tornado shelters, and if all else fails, you can always duck and cover. There truly are not many options at this juncture. Please, find shelter anywhere you can. May God have mercy on...”\n\nAt this point, the transmissions from the EAS had become garbled from the nuclear strikes already hitting the Western Coast of North America. All the televisions went blank. Static from radio speakers filled the air, adding to the surreality of the sirens still sounding.\n\nThose lucky enough to find shelter in time did not have to witness the glow of the thermo-nuclear detonations lighting the night sky, like small Suns dotting the landscape of what was once habitable land. \n\nAfter the fallout and radiation had subsided from World War III, those who emerged from their shelters came to find that humanity had effectively pressed the “reset” button on the entire Earth. No more easily extractable oil. No more industry. No more plumbing. No more electrical power plants. No more traces of modern man's accomplishments were to be found anywhere. All modern conveniences and amenities had been obliterated in nuclear fire. \n\nWe fought to the bitter beginning.\n\n*Written by TheWeepingProphet, 2015, Creative Commons License* "
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The zombies' intelligence should be higher than in the classic zombie stories. Or maybe not. Write as you like.
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[WP] Write a zombie apocalypse story from the view of the zombies
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"Simon awoke, light searing his eyes as he squinted and pushed himself onto an elbow. \nBlearily, he shook his head and tried to regain his faculties. \nHe remembered running, sprinting away from something terrifying...\nIt came back to him in a rush. The zombie horde, the screaming crowds, the chaos. \nHe'd been bitten, in an attempt to reach his home. Hadn't he?\nFeeling the back of his neck, he stiffened as he discovered his neck had been chewed in half. \nHe passed out again.\n\nWhen he awoke for the second time, it was to a gentle prodding. Someone was trying to get his attention. It was darker now, the sun was heading towards the horizon. The street was still mostly empty, apart from the man attempting to wake him with a cheery expression.\n\n\"Rise and shine,\" the man said, with a determined effervescence that belied his obvious lack of sincerity. Can't lie there all evening.\"\n\nStill feeling the back of his neck, Simon blanched visibly as he realized that the man in front of him was missing an eye. And a hand. In fact, he was a slight shade of green. \n\nThe green man offered him a hand, which he took, and gingerly raised himself to his feet. Green-face, as Simon was coming to think of him, eyed him thoughtfully.\n\n\"Not bad, very little exterior damage. Should think you'll be able to join the lurchers.\"\n\nFor the first time, Simon spoke. \"The lurchers? I'm sorry, but I'm very confused. Who are you?\"\n\nGreen-face made an extremely transparent attempt to conceal his impatience. \n\n\"The lurchers. You're in good enough nick to join them. Though I would hurry, sundown is almost here, and you'll want to kit out properly. Here, take this token and go join Squadron A58. They're assaulting an orphanage on Elm Avenue.\"\n\nNumbly, Simon had a small beer bottle cap pressed into his hand.\n\n\"Don't lose that.\" Green-face said in a serious manner. Critically, he looked him up and down again. \"You'll want to crouch over a bit, maybe unhinge that jaw. Can't have you strutting about like a vicar, you'll ruin the morale. And take off that neckerchief, no wonder you died so early.\"",
"I remember typing being a lot easier last time I did this.\n\nBeing a member of the living dead, my joints just keep getting harder to move. Rigor mortis and all that. Also, shouldn't something have fallen off by now? I've been 'awake' for quite a while now and I have yet to lose an extremity. I know a guy who woke up and fell apart. Like, literally. His body parts just came clean off one by one over a months time. Almost like leprosy or something. I digress though.\n\nThis whole 'zombie apocalypse' didn't work out like everyone was expecting. Sure, some dumbass scientist screwed around with bacteria and tested it until it got loose. But it only affected those who were already living. So we got zombies, but we missed the whole 'hand shoots out of the ground' scene from the flicks. Grandma stayed dead. But when the bacteria came into contact with humans and reached the brain, it turned everything off. Killed the heart, stopped brain functions, and rendered the person absolutely dead. For a minute. Then everything turned back on, but with the bacteria in control. Remember back in the 90s there was that kids book about the alien slugs that took over peoples brains? It worked just like that. The person looked like a normal functioning human being, but they were something entirely new. Speech was replaced by a psychic link between the other infected. It was almost like one constantly growing organism, each infected became part of a bigger body. \n\nBut see what confuses me is: why don't I hear them? I woke up 4 months ago. (I think. Keeping time becomes a little harder when you have no need to sleep.) But not once have I heard another voice or felt any compulsion to join a horde. I don't know. I probably got a stupid bacteria. That would be my luck. Doomed to walk the earth as an undead, and I get the one damn germ that's out of the loop. It's absoluteykj.ujl;m.,\n\nHmm. Spoke too soon on the whole “nothing falling off” thing. Guess I'm typing with one hand. \n\nHonestly, I don't know what to do. I could just go on with life (or I guess lack thereof) and try and figure out why I'm different. I could also forget about it and try and continue with as much normalcy as I can. Lord knows I'm not going to be typing anytime soon. I've been sitting here trying to finish this with only one hand left. \n\nWhatever I do, I'm stuck like this until I finish decaying. Could take a week. Could take another 10 years. Not sure which one I'd prefer. Might as well get started though.\n\n-Jason Wyatt\nZombie",
"To our comrades, the Children of the Earth, \n\nI know that it is usual for my kind to talk to your kind only in the gurgling of our redeemed holy tongue, but I thought it may be time that one of us tells you what exactly is going. Whilst you run and shriek, fearing for the lives of you and your loved ones, we come to you sharing a message of peace. You see we, the blessed, who you call 'infected', have actually been entrusted with the gift of eternal life and have been given the privilege and responsibility of sharing this with you.\n\nMany times we approach you and attempt to reason and rationalise with you, but the message doesn't seem to get through, and we have to resort to chasing you to share with you this gift of eternal life as you pummel us with bullets and batter us with crowbars. We bare this pain because we love our kin, that is you, in the Earth enough to suffer for your sake as we spread the gift of our eternal living.\n\nYou see, we do not die, we are already dead, and now we live forever. Doesn't that sound fantastic to you?\n\nYou are so afraid to lose your lives and become like us, yet don't you see that you're missing out on what you've always wanted.\n\nAnyway, the reason I post this letter to you is because tomorrow, as always, we are going to break down your barricade which blocks our way, we'll swarm it with the masses of converted cadavars in our ranks, and we'll chase you. But we do this because we want you to join us in our exalted state of living.\n\nI apologise that we no longer speak regularly, but we have been blessed with heavenly tongues.\n\nSo do yourselves a favour; tomorrow, when we come chasing after you, sit and wait for us to arrive. That way you can join those that live forever sooner, and we can give you the kiss of life without having to make it painful by eating your brains.\n\nWith best love and wishes,\n\nBrother Brains.",
"Death, don't talk to me about death. \n\nIt's bad enough to suffer through it once, let alone twice. An army the size of a planet, all shambling about, staking out their evening meal, the last true diligent work-force, and what thanks do we get? Death, once more. Sure, the blood may no longer flow but the heart still bleeds, metaphorically speaking. How would you like it, if every time you went to tuck into a light snack, you get greeted by a buckshot appetizer? No respect these days, I tell you. \n\nAre you feeling well? You've gone pale, you poor dear, and you've barely touched your dessert. Oh do stop your groaning, it'll be over soon. It's really not that bad, you know. Of course it hurts the first time but after.. well, there's a whole lot of nothing, in truth. But what was there before? Eat, sleep, fuck, secrete waste, repeat. Things aren't so different, just simpler. Please just quit your flailing, I'm developing a migraine, what with all this carry-on today. Why do you bleeders have to be such tenacious blighters? \n\nDid you see that flash? Fire. A shame, we were doing so well this winter. I suppose it's a fitting end, ashes to ashes and all that. Of course, they're too late for you. They all are; for all their petty hate, they're the freaks these days. I give it five seconds before they bust down that door, 10 till we're no more, and 20 till they realise just how many of us are in here. I hope you had a chance to say your goodbyes, I sure didn't.\n\nWell, once more unto the breach and all that. Here we go, dying again."
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[WP] A serial killer finds his victims by looking at their car's bumper stickers.
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"\"JET FUEL CAN'T MELT STEEL BEAMS\" what an odd sticker, Jeremiah questioned himself. Not indecipherable though. Jeremiah was many things, but he was sure not a quitter.\n\nJeremiah had to claim this sticker as a trophy, after all it belonged to the ass-hat that stole his parking spot a few years ago, he thought about letting it go. But to let something go is to quit thinking about it and Jeremiah was no quitter. A couple of google searches, mostly conspiracy websites but one that struck out to him was an actual website that had sold these stickers. \n\nJeremiah posed as an interested customer, \"Can I ask u what jet steel can't melt fuel beams mean?\" jeremiah asked on the instant messaging line.\n\n\"Do you mean jet fuel can't melt steel beams?\" an employee for the website responded.\n\n\"Yes that's the one, do you know if I can get a customer list. We are a promotional company and would like to attain the records of the customers to better locate their demands aligning with our company. \"\n\nThe employee was caught in shock and responded with a generic statement taught to them, \"Record and details of clientelle or personal matters are allowed restrictive access to just about anyone. For this matter we apologise but we can not aid you in your requests.\"\n\n-----\n\n\"Fuck. Fuck.\" Jeremiah shouted. He browsed their site and noticed the location of the stickers being sold in. \"Colorado. Guess I have to buy a two way ticket then.\"\n\nJeremiah was standing where he was a few years ago. Except for a new Mcdonalds and a Walmart, nothing changed about where he had wanted to park his car a few years ago.\n\nHe looked around, \"One. Two. Three. Lets just say there's sixty jet fuel can't melt steel beams bumper stickers,\" he thought to himself. \"Guess we gotta check all of them out\" he told himself. Everyday. Every night. Jeremiah had been there for about one week. Day in and night out just waiting for the guy and his stupid walking cane. ",
"Sam danced his fingers on his steering wheel, glancing down at the car in front of him.\n\n \"Okay, okay. Family of four... No, too obvious.\" He swerved around him, speeding up until he got to a diner.\n\n \"This one's nice. *HONORED VEGAN!*, and *COEXIST*? Damn, I got this.\" He took out a small scrap piece of paper and a worn down pencil, sketching down the license plate number of the car ahead of him.\n\nHe backed out, and started hunting for more.\n\n**UNFINISHED**"
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[WP] Zombies start appearing around the world and begin protesting for their undead rights.
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"They were here again. \n\nMoaning, shuffling, their limbs stiff and eyes blank. The foetid stench of decay started to seep in through the windows; insidious, cloying, thick. \n\nAndy Burram surreptitiously held his breath against the rancid smell and stood as still as he could, frozen against the wall. His heart beat frantically against the cage of his body, thud-thud-thudding so loud he was sure the bloody things could hear his very lifeforce from outside the window. He caught the eye of a terrified colleague from across the room: frozen together like gazelle when a predator makes an appearance at the watering hole.\n\nIt had been two months. \n\nTwo whole months since XP-554c had first originated in one of the big city hospitals, a new superbug that took hold and killed within hours. People would start to cough up blood, then chunks of their own lungs. Big, oozing, infected sores broke out over their bodies. Splitting headaches caused them to scratch their own eyes until they bled; pull out their own hair and scream as the delirium and madness set in. It was highly contagious, spread by fluids and direct contact with infected patients, and a horrific way to die.\n\nIf only XP-554c stopped at death, Andy thought wistfully. How different this would all be. How much nicer the world would have remained.\n\nInstead, the virus would live on in the host body, reanimating it after physiological death. The patients memories and mannerisms would remain, but their bodies slowly began to rot and decay. In unsavoury addition, the only nutrients that seemed to give them the ability to ‘live’ on was human flesh. Thousands more had died in the cannibalistic aftermath. \n\nIt was all Andy could do to not laugh hysterically. \n\nZombies. Could you believe it? Actual bloody real-life zombies. \n\nHe bit down on his lip to jolt himself back to reality. He believed it. He could smell them. See them hoarding outside. Why were they here? What had attracted them to the government building? Andy and the others had been busy enough trying to keep the hunted, panicked population under control, keeping vital systems online, and keeping the zombies away from population centres. He saw the woman across from him start to shake in fear. She was holding a stack of folders, and they wobbled precariously. No. If she dropped them, they were all buggered. He made eye contact with her and frantically searched his memory. What was her name? Joanna? Jenna? \n\nJean. That was it.\n\n‘Jean!’ he whispered urgently. Her eyes snapped to his. ‘Jean, it’s ok,’ he whispered. ‘We’ll be ok. You just need to stay…….’ \n\nShe dropped the files with an almighty crash.\n\n‘…calm.’ \n\nAndy closed his eyes in horror and slowly moved his head to look out of the window. There they were. A huge crowd of them, maybe thirty or forty. Far too many to fight. Maybe they could run? They’d have to try at least. Make a break for the evacuation exits. He took a deep breath, and moved slowly across to Jean, planning on taking her hand and getting them out of there. The zombies knew they were there, no doubt about that. As soon as the folders hit the floor thirty pairs of weak, failing eyes had looked in their direction, in anticipation. \n\nAndy hesitated slightly. Why hadn’t they charged? Usually they were quick off the mark once they detected a potential food source. He stopped in the process of reaching out for Jean’s hand. \n\nThey were just standing there. Slowly, they seemed to start searching for something, pulling bulky items from behind backs and out of bags.\n\nWhat in the name of all that was left was going on?\n\nSlowly they pulled themselves together, lifted their haul, and began a synchronised, rasping groan.\n\n‘Uuurrrgghhhhhhhhhh…..’ A couple of them coughed, hacking up disgusting parts of their insides onto the pavements. They tried again. \n\n‘Uuuuuunnnnnnnnn…..’ \n\nAndy had dropped his hand, no longer reaching out to Jean. She too stood in bemusement, watching the hoard in front of them. One of them finally managed to raise their treasure above their head: it was a sign. A picket sign, stuck onto a length of wood. A scrawled, childish hand had written in capitals in a red smear that looked unpleasantly like blood: ZOMBIES PEOPLE TOO\n\n‘Uuuunnnndeeeeaaaddd….’ They managed in croaking chorus.\n\n‘Uuuunnnddeeeeaaaaddddd riiiiggghhtttssss….’ More coughing ensued, more signs raised.\n\nHUMAN UNFAIR TO ZOMBIE\n\nZOMBIE WANT SAFE MEAT FIND\n\nUNDEAD PEOPLE GOOD TOO\n\nUNDEAD RIGHTS US HAVE \n\nJesus. Andy found himself reaching into his pocket for his phone, raising it and starting to film. Was this all some sophisticated prank? Were they just actors in makeup, pulling some kind of publicity stunt? \n\nOne of the zombies at the front managed to fall over its own feet and landed with a sickening crunch. As it struggled back up, Andy noticed the compound fracture of its arm. The zombie looked down in surprise, looked back at Andy and then slowly raised its picket once more, disregarding its horrific injury. The zombie to its left unconcernedly hacked up a fairly realistic piece of lung.\n\nThey were actually picketing. Zombie rights. Seriously?\n\nAndy looked around. Jean was in a state of shock, pale as a ghost and shaking like a leaf. He knew his boss had left several hours ago, and as far as he was aware there was nobody senior in the building right now. \n\nAndy raised himself to his full height, put away his phone, and straightened his navy blue tie. Well, he thought to himself, everyone has had to take on more and more responsibility since the XP-554c outbreak. He couldn’t leave a crowd of concerned citizens without a representative from their local government to go and speak with them.\n\nAndy Burram, Champion Zombie Negotiator. Andy Burram, Chief Representative for Undead Rights. Andy Burram, Director of the Department for Zombie-Human Relations. \n\nAndy felt himself grow an inch or two. Andy Burram, he thought to himself. Always knew you were meant for greater things. \n\nAndy Burram took a deep breath, opened the door, and walked out to meet his destiny.\n"
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An Isis soldier is wearing a camera PoV style that can live stream to the Internet, with enough power to run it for a month. He encounters an undead Iraqi soldier who turns the Isis fighter into a zombie. What happens next?
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[WP] Zombie invasion begins in Syria/Iraq and is live streamed to the world by a zombie Isis fighter
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[
"The world looked on in shock. The stream should've ended 5 minutes ago. Making if all the more popular. Everyone loved a live screwup. It was common knowledge that the camera life was relative to that of the wearer. The heartbeat had stopped, but his neural firing was still going.\n\nIt was a good thing most viewers had arrived late. The death of Sayeed was a particularly gruesome one. Bitten and scratched until the screams slowly faded to a soft gurgling as the heart rate faded away, and the neuron display flashed less and less. But it never stopped. \nSuddenly, the body jolted. God knows what that Iraqi had in plan for Sayeed, no doubt dragging him to a place where he would probably never be found if it weren't for the webcam, which would be noticed soon no doubt as he was picked up and-... Nobody. There was nobody there. The whole world had just witnessed a dead man stand. \n\"Wat.\"\n\"Tha fuck\"\n\"It was all bullshit they forgot to turn off the webcam\"\n\nThe world's opinions, no longer restricted by their audibility, made themselves known to all. And the view count kept rising. \n\nThe deadan began to walk, obviously somewhat disabled, as he stumbled often. The view count slowly fell as the monotony of the two-tone panorama of sky and desert became the main subject matter.\n\nThe next day, the rebel had seemingly arisen before daybreak, or not even stopped. The sun had only risen for a couple of hours when the telltale signs of being shot at, puffs of dirt near the ground was spotted. He had to of seen it, but no observable reaction is recorded until the noise of the shots. Sayeed begins running, but no attempt at self preservation is made. He sprints directly at the emcampment, seeming to get hit throughout, yet he is totally quiet throughout the whole scenario, from when he was shot at, to when he was pulling his fellow soldiers face apart with sickening desperation. A final bite to the throat, and it was over.\n\"Sayeed has the shits m8\"\n\"I just vomited on my keyboard!!1\"\n\"Rekt\"\n\nUsympathetic eyes looked on.\n\nSayeed continued his long walk, and by now reports of similar circumstances were popping up all over, of lonely travellers, totally silent. Even when brutally murdering their comrades. You could sometimes see one in the distance.\n\nA month later, we are getting more info about this new kind of fanatic. Not that there was much more Intel than \"they don't die unless you blow their brains out\". Newly arrived U.N. forces were taking heavy casualties. By this time, it was obvious that our opponents were undead, just nobody wanted to say it aloud. \n\nOne morning, when dawn broke, it could be seen Sayeed had many companions. The war was over, though there was no speech, at least not for the victors. Sayeed and his companions are stumbling towards a few faraway ships, lobbing shells high overhead in vain. \n\nThe water reaches the camera, and cuts to black.",
"We all sat and watched in awe as the arms beside the camera cut down zombie after zombie. With machete in hand the man cut through too many to count on his way out of the building, the entire time screaming and crying. We looked on the adjacent screen at the bar and saw \"Breaking News. United Nations Agrees On Targeted Drone Strikes in Syria to Cripple Growing Zombie Hordes\"\n\nHearing more and more screaming we turned back to the first screen and murmured in surprise as the man finally bust from the building doors and into the sunlight, where the zombies dare not go. He stood there for a few minutes before we heard a low pitched rumble come on the screen. I remembered the second screen talking about a drone strike in Syria... But so soon? It couldn't be. \n\nSure enough the humming became more and more high pitched as the the missile whirred closer and closer to the man with the camera. The bar was dead quiet as we looked on. The man behind the Camera ran as fast as he could from the oncoming drone strike and was about 200 yards from the building. We watched the camera look up and realized the missile wasn't tracking the zombies... It was tracking him. He looked down and began to run and run until we heard a scream and the connection cut off and the screen turned a cold black.\n\n"
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