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[WP] "Here we finally meet, at the end of all things..."
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"\"You know, I've had first dates that were so awkward I wanted to die of embarrassment. Its kinda fitting that the one I actually go out on, should be the best.\"\n\n\"Maybe we just feel its the best, cause we know there can't be any petty drama hanging over it? We can relax, there won't be a second no matter what we do.\"\n\n\"Do I still pay for the dinner? Not that I\"m asking you pay. Don't think I'm some jerk who's all \"why should I pay for this girl, if i'm not going to get my money's worth\". I just mean, it seems kinda pointless to pay.\"\n\n\"I'd say its overall pointless not to pay right? Cant take it with you. Plus you don't want to spend time getting in fight or winding up in jail.\"\n\n\"True, its so weird that no one else knows though. Like, I just want some small rebellion... something to say I knew it was coming, right? Is that weird? I just want to do something to make it feel like its really the end.\"\n\n\"Finally getting together isn't enough of a world-shaker for you? I'm hurt, you've been dropping hints online for months. Still I do know what you mean. Even though you could just give away your car, or all your money, and it would be meaningless and make someone else happy. Taking out cash advance on the credit card to give a massive tip. It doesn't feel right. You want to transgress to make it real. You don't want to earn gratitude for something meaningless.\"\n\n\"So then what? We rob a liquor store of all the most expensive stuff? Track down some caviar? I don't even know where to find extra expensive end of the world caviar.\"\n\n\"I wouldn't mind a nice bourbon. Still, that's the thing. The closer we get to it, the more it feels like it would be shame to miss it.\"\n\n\"Yeah, imagine getting shot an hour before crossing the finish line of the human race.\"\n\n\"Or being in a hospital. The less there is to lose, the more valuable the loss is. Kinda seems unfair. Our anxieties never can lessen, our triumphs have diminishing returns.\"\n\n\"Deep, you should write a book when you have some time to spare. Speaking of, almost time to get going.\"\n\n\"Yeah... but how about first another glass of wine. To finally meeting, here at the end of all things.\"\n\n\"And to the wisdom of the tarot, that showed us what was coming, and gave us this moment. Cheers.\""
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[WP] When fishermen sing, fish come.
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"Reord sat by the sea in his salt-stained boots and sang beneath his breath the old song his father and his grandfather had sung. The shore stretched away from him in either direction, rocky and exposed. In the distance vernal-grass waved in the wind. Raindrops darkened the grey stones and Reord fixed his net with patient hands. He kept a white beard cropped at his chin and he worked between his two boats. They had seen better days; all peeling paint and old wood, but they had been named for his daughters and weathered more storms than the girls had seen summers. Hard work had given him callouses and the sun had given him nut-brown skin. The weights on the net clinked together in the low wind and played accompaniment to his song. \n\n\nWhen Reord forgot the words, he hummed instead. Peat smoke had deepened his voice and a roll of distant thunder sounded as his echo. At that, Reord looked up, but the clouds were not yet black overhead and after a moment he continued. Deftly, he worked the net and the twine, fixing the holes that stray debris had caused. Many other boats littered the shore, each of their owners singing their own song with one eye on their nets and the other on the sky. \n\n\nThe water washed onto the shore, streaming through the grey rocks. It did not reach Reord's feet, nor his boats, but it tugged at the edge of the weighted net. \n\n\n\"Not yet,\" Reord told the water. It retreated. \n\n\nReord sung another verse. From behind a cloud, the sun emerged. The grey rocks shone where before they had been damp. Reord smiled to himself when the rain lessened. With his keen eyes, Reord could see the water turning to churn. His song had worked, and the fish had come. Heaving the net into the boat, he pushed it down the rocky shore. \n\n\nStill singing, his voice was joined by another. To his left, another fisherman had seen the thrashing waters and followed suit. The two boats slid unevenly over the rocks towards the water. With a slightly higher pitched voice, the song of the second fisherman joined Reord's own and the wind caught it, casting the words over the waves. \n\n\nAlong the beach, every fisherman pushed his own boat. Their voices rose against the wind. They roared, they chanted. Reord cheered as his boat hit the water and he was away. The fishermen were singing, and the fish had come. "
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[WP] "What? You want to know where you are? You're dead."
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"“What do you mean I’m dead!”\n\n“What other definitions are there to D-E-A-D? You have ceased to exist, you are no longer living. Your guts, are either making the passerby’s nose wrinkle or feeding the local strays.” Mathew had heard enough.\n\n“I think I’m going to be sick”\n\n“No need. You no longer have a stomach.”\n\n“How da- Who are you anyways?”\n\n“Not death, nor some guide for you. It’s not like in the plays or books or poems, seriously I have no idea how you humans come to believe some rather ridiculous ideas.” \n\nMathew didn’t know what to make of things, he was simply reporting on the local villages. The recent changes of political powers and laws segregated all supercountries from interfering with developing countries. He was simply there to take pictures and report how the villages lived day to day without interacting with them. To show the world how they live without their Coca-Colas and New-Oxford’s Third Testament. The villagers had paid no mind to Mathew for two whole weeks. \n\nThen he remembered, the hungry child and the slab of sticky fruit riddled in flies. A man had caught him and Mathew interfered. He knew the risk, he likely would never be permitted to leave the country again, stuck reporting on the weather or trending fashions. But the result was different. All he remembered in the pinch on his side and the red all over the dirt, the sausage links that came out of nowhere and that foul stench of. His eyes widened, he had shat himself. \n\nHe tried to be subtle and check his back pockets, as if he wondered if his wallet was still with him. The woman answered exactly what his gestures were asking.\n\n“Your shit did not transcend into this world.”\n\nMathew deflated, she assured him that it happened to everyone, and that in fact she had the embarrassment of peeing on her bed next to her fiancé. Mathew only reddened at the cheeks.\n\n“So, you said you are no guide, and not the grim reaper. Then are you just some other ghost?”\n\n“Ghosts are not real”\n\n“Bu- How? You said I’m dead?”\n\n“Correct.”\n\n“I’m so confused.”\n\n“You pompous Americans, think you know everything. Look darling you died, and when you die you become the Dead, not a ghost or some other thing. Like a zombie but not among the living, and not with the cerebral cravings, I swear you humans and your imaginations.”\n\n“You keep saying that.”\n\n“Saying what?”\n\n“You humans. Are you not human?”\n\n“I am not.”\n\n“Then what are you?” \n\n“A Unicorn.”\n\nMathew spewed out a fit of laughter. She only rolled her eyes and waited for it to end, it was not the first time she witnessed the recently dead react to these answers. He coughed up a bit and straightened up with mutter of sorry, I wasn’t expecting that. She replied with her usual it’s alright and began to walk down the pebbled dirt road. Soon after Mathew followed with a barrage of interrogations all to which really bored her entirely. She stopped and turned explained to Mathew that the questions were really beginning to annoy her.\n\n“Sorry, I’m just really lost. I have too many questions and no idea what to do next. Like, I’m dead and you’re a Unicorn and what else?”\n\n“Werewolves have been extinct for the last three centuries and Vampires actually enjoy sunlight.” \n\n“You’re just fucking with me now aren’t you”\n\n“I am.” He chuckled.\n\n“Two centuries, Werewolves have been extinct for only two centuries.”\n\n“Oh for fu-“\n\n“Mathew please don’t swear, I don’t like it. Come, I know where you can get all those silly answers you are looking for.”\n\n“Alright, but can I ask one more question?”\n\n“Please make it the last one.”\n\n“I promise.”\n\n“What is it?”\n\n“You don’t look like the villagers, in fact your dress makes you seem like some Victorian age lady. Why were you here when I died?”\n\n“Oh I’m sorry dear, I simply forgot. Clumsy old age I guess. I’m your great great grandmother.” \n\nMathew’s jaw would have hit the floor if he were like those zombies that rot and lose limbs but he wasn’t, so instead his mouth was a simple gape and since he promised not to press anymore questions he closed his mouth and continued walking behind her.\n\nThe village was not far from the old cities that used to be part of Great Britain. A lot of debate and controversy followed when they chose to leave the European Union but that was not what caused the now known Common Britain to become a less than developed country. The details are still hazy but many conspire that the introduction of solar energy could be the culprit. Since in fact Britain had not seen sunlight in approximately five hundred years. Japan being the first country to see the sun every new day would get the most of the energy and thus have flourished tremendously. They now have expanded from a simple island to a cluster of floating islands. Some countries flourished and others fell. Mathew was from the United States, the country developed decently. Their politics not as much. \n\nAnd so they continued their journey in silence. Past the pedestrians and villagers scurrying down the road as the approaching rain began to dampen the dirt and Mathew realized the water did not soak them. He wondered what else would be different in this other world. It was obvious that they roamed this earth still, gravity seemed to exist here but there was no wind, no smell and he did not taste the hint of iron his gingivitis left in his mouth. \n\nFurther into the city they walked briskly through the streets, he reached and felt for walls. The rough brick texture assured him to not attempt walking into walls. After three frightful encounters he concluded cars go through them, or they go through cars. Then he conjured up the thought of what would happen if a truck were to drive through them with a piece of wall in the bed.\n\nThey reached a building and walked up the steps. His great great grandmother turned and smiled at him. She reached for the knob and turned it and stepped through. Mathew gazed up at the building, it was a simple white stone building, someone’s flat he imagined. She peeked her head out and asked if he was ready. \n\nHe nodded and stood there still. \n\n“Is everything alright? Look I know this is all new but everything will be explained once we go in.”\n\n“Alright.”\n\n“What is it?”\n\n“I promised not to ask anything else.”\n\n“You’re a silly one aren’t you?” and disappeared behind the door once more.\n\nMathew went up the ladders and reached for the door. Solid he said to himself. Everything was just bizarre. And so he went in and caught his great great grandmother walking up the flight of stairs. He followed right behind her and caught up at the second landing and continued down the hall to a red door on the right.\n\n“Ready?” She asked once more. And he nodded once more before she opened the door and stepped in and he continued behind her.\n\n“So does that mean I’m part Unicorn?”\n"
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[WP] war fought with art
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"— You would not understand. Those that fell here never \nstrove to sate their hunger for glory, power, or personal gain. \nThey were not forced to fight this war by their superiors. No-one\nhad any deeply-held convictions to protect, nor ideals to\nenforce. This was not our way. Any reasons we might have had\nto take part in these battles were secondary…\n\n— To the very act, yes… But still, your condescension towards\nthe Artless, Vrtra, is insufferable, and so is your wish to\nresort to abstraction despite all that both of us have\nundergone. So let me take over for now. The story has to be\ntold, known, and kept alive, even if by the new litter.\n\nOn this Side, it was all different before the Tremor.\nNothing much was known to exist aside from the Pillar Cities, \nof which there were yet five, - Kao and Shmym the largest among\nthem, and the most irreconcilable in their differences. The\nsociety of Kao disdained abstraction – to the point that the\nvery name of their pillar came from outside, as they\nthemselves refused to give names to anything. Kao had no\nwriting, no signs for numbers; their tongue had no nouns.\nTheir claim to fame was the magnificent murals that covered\nthe great upward home of Kao to the last cubit. These\ndocumented all that was ever seen: creatures of Land, Sea,\nand Weave, forces of nature as they manifested themselves to\nour Side; scenes from every other pillar’s life except their\nown, glorious battles of times past. Everything apperceived\nby the eye was worthy of depiction, anything that transpired\nentirely in the mind was dismissed as abstraction.\n\nShmym, on the other hand, embraced abstractions to ridiculous\nextents, as you know all too well. Their extant philosophical\ntexts are as arcane as they are famous among those of the new\nlitter that now tread a like path. Their myths are\nenchantment itself, full though they might be of superfluous\nramblings. Me, I came to see things in a different way and\nleft for Mzeba just in time to outlast the Tremor, but as a\nwhole, those of Shmym were born for words and died for words.\nTheir favorite pastime was writing – individual as well as\ncollective. There were multiple leagues – for prose, poetry,\nnatural philosophy, weave essays, and tenet tractates, in the\nrising order of abstraction and refinement. The everyday\ngreeting at Shmym pillar – “Mgoshel Kebuyum” – translates as\n“Outcrop of Matter is Seen and Known”. Some way to say “hi”.\nThis still annoys the hell out of Vrtra – had you looked at\nhim just now, you would have noticed him wince.\n\n— I did not. You wouldn’t have. Here he goes again, trying to\nread my face instead of looking, - Vrtra sighed quietly and\nlet his shoulders droop towards the fire.\n\n— Oh well, - Zaveer patted Vrtra’s shoulder, then fell quiet\nand gazed in the dark distance somewhere to my right, - Look\nat us bicker even now. In retrospect, the whole sad story\nwasn’t something we could reverse or avoid. We were never\neven meant to try."
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[WP] Time travel is actually invented, but fails to take into consideration the movement of the earth/sun/solar system/galaxy stranding all who try in space where earth used to be
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"Earth is dying. Years of ozone decay finally reached the point of no return in 2096, and by the time scientists realized that rising cancer rates correlated to the increased radiation, it was too late. Our civilization moved underground, desperate to find a way to solve the problem even as our damaged genetics led to shorter and shorter lifespans with each generation. \n\nIn 2150, when Earth's population had dwindled from a robust 20 billion to less than 500 million, a breakthrough was achieved. A modified large Hadron collider in Sweden had discovered that by sending objects at 1% of light speed through the tube, the object would flash and disappear. At first nobody knew where the objects were going. Only when one scientist, who was spending a late night in the lab, watched as a plastic cube that was scheduled to be shot the next day materialize in front of him did the team realize what was happening: time travel. Obviously, the travel could only be backwards, since the collider couldn't slow something down more than it was at rest. \n\nMore tests were done, always at 1% speed of light, and it was found that the speed of the object correlated to how far back the object would be sent. Eventually a special pod was developed such that objects no longer warped after their travel at such speeds, and the first live tests were done on slugs. \n\nThen disaster struck. Surface probes discovered the rising sea levels had just begun to spike, as the polar ice caps began to lose the battle with the increasing temperatures. The levels would completely submerge the entire nation of Sweden, including the collider, in an estimated 1 year.\n\nThere was no more time for extensive tests. Humanity did not have the resources to escape into space anymore- and besides, our failed genetics would follow us anywhere we went. Instead, the radical solution was chosen to send back one of us to the past, so that we might save earth. I was chosen based on my military background as an engineer to be sent back as the first person. As our last hope. Since I would not be able to come back to our timeline, there was no way to know if I survived, or if I was successful. There was no point in sending more.\n\nAll of the variables were checked. The time equations were mapped out, and if I succeeded the failed earth timeline would cease to exist, and I would be able to save our planet. Several scientists and critics asked, however, why somebody hadn't saved us in our own timeline, and insisted that the project was a waste of our already dwindling electrical supplies. We carried on preparations anyway- what else could we do? I tried to keep from reading those theories as much as I could.\n\nMonths later the day came, and I was fitted into a new pod that, in theory, could take up to 5% of the speed of light, sending me back to 2016. All the preparations were done. And not a moment too soon. A tsunami had just turned the underground survivors in China into a floating graveyard of 20 million people, and surface probes estimated that a hurricane the size of France was forming in the Atlantic and was headed towards Sweden in the next week. Nobody said it, but the resulting flooding was certain to be high enough to reach the collider chamber. The scientists knew that they were all going to die there- it was too late to escape it. Everything was pinned on the launch.\n\nI lay myself down into the moulding of the pod and I waited as the pod doors slowly closed around me. Through the glass I could see as I was inserted into the collider, and watched as the mechanical arm gently dropped me into the magnetic field within, and watched as it withdrew. A soft blue light bathed the entire interior of the tube as lights and circuits began to activate. I lay my head back down, and closed my eyes. There was a soft \"whoosh\" as the magnets began to accelerate me. It would take up to thirty seconds for me to reach the speed needed, and then the magnets would be reversed instantly to create the massive antimatter shift that phased me out. \n\nI waited. Nineteen. Twenty. I breathed in. Out. Twenty eight. Twenty nine. Thir-\n\nThere was a pop, and then a tingly feeling reverberated from my toes to my head. Then, silence. \n\nI opened my eyes. According to the plan, I should be somewhere in the collider, since it existed in 2016. But I wasn't. \n\nI looked out of the glass and saw stars. Millions upon millions. Then, as I used the soft air valves mechanics to rotate the pod, I saw it. Near my feet, hundreds of thousands of kilometers away, there was a tiny blue orb. My heart sank. \n\nIt was Earth. Suddenly, I thought back to the scientists who had asked why we ourselves hadn't been saved. Why rescue efforts hadn't been made earlier. Now I knew the answer. They had been made. And every time, the movement of Earth itself in space hadn't been considered. Everyone had been so obsessed with calculating my position in time that my position in space had been ignored. Even though the pod display showed the correct time, I was way to far from Earth to ever warn anybody about anything. I gritted my teeth as bitter tears escaped my eyes. \n\nWith no way for me to make a change in the timeline, and with no way to go back and give feedback, this Earth was destined for the same death we had. And I couldn't do anything but watch Earth as it receded and got and further and further away from me. I accepted my fate and I bit the pill lodged in my mouth. Death would come soon."
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[WP] Our world starts seeing people with superpowers emerge, but instead of people using their powers to become superheroes or even supervillains, they use them for more mundane things.
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"la tragédie de eddie salle\n\nEddie Hall oh-so-desperately wanted to say he was normal, but the truth always hit him like a ton of bricks. He wasn't- and he never would be. The thing about poor Eddie was that he could shoot lasers from his appendages. Fingers, toes, his nose, everything. Not harmful lasers, just....lasers. That was the last thing in the world that he wanted. \n\nHe'd been fired from multiple jobs for causing distractions, lost multiple girlfriends for reasons even Eddie himself never wanted to discuss, and no one would hire him. They figured that if Mr. Hall was a superhuman, he'd probably want to be off saving the day or something, right? Wrong. Eddie was Eddie, and that was it. \n\nOne day, he was sitting in the park and his lasers went off. A couple of passing hipsters took notice and began to praise him on his originality in the light-show, as Eddie sat, helpless to do anything as light beamed from his hands, face, feet and pants.\n\nTWO YEARS LATER\nA flyer flutters by in the wind, having broken free of its poor staple job. Reading, \"Light DJ Hall\", it heralded new beginnings for a certain abled person.\n\nfin",
"John glowered as his cubicle neighbour Sam teleported in next to him. Always a literal second before being late, some people got all the luck. She gave him a quick smile, \n\n\"Enjoy your commute?\"\n\nFucking Sam. He scanned the remaining cubicles. Everyone was there, Simmons had erected a force field to work in peace and Beth was currently invisible, trying to slip salt into her rival Anthony's tea, which he was busy willing into wine. Thanks to his x-Ray vision he saw through it all though, whenever he willed it everyone just became a bunch of skeletons. Didn't even get to see people naked, what a rip-off. Mr Rodrick towered over John, glowing slightly blue and floating half a foot off the floor.\n\n\"Everyone accounted for?\"\n\n\"Yep. Though may want to check in on Simmons, pretty sure he sent his duplicate instead.\"\n\nJohn leant back in his chair and tried vainly to be productive, it had certainly become more necessary now he had a boss that could conjure balls of fire. On his left Sam was hard at work, easy when you get to sleep in till 5 minutes before work. On his right Janice was typing... At 5000 words a minute. They had to get a special keyboard for her in the end. No keys, she typed with such ferocity they couldn't keep up, and it was such a shame to waste her talent.\n\nWhy did the world have to get superpowers anyway? Nothing ever changed people just found new ways of being dicks, or lazy or in the cases of the amazing \"Aqua Alice\", suddenly found it hard to keep themselves together. There she was in her bucket, a speech to words recorder positioned above her as she dictated an email. John was convinced the aliens that had done this had done it as a giant practical joke, it certainly seemed that way."
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[WP] The ratio of women to men in your town is 10:1.
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"John knocked on apartment 7's door; the room had been empty for a few weeks and John had nothing better to do. He never missed an opportunity to keep up his social skills, they weren't necessary in this town but they helped you stay ahead of the marriage curve. The locks clicked off and the door opened, a young man stood in front of John with striking blond hair and ocean blue eyes. \"Hi, I'm John, I'm your neighbor to the right. I just wanted to welcome you to our little tech town.\"\n\n\"Thanks, I'm David. So, anything I should know about this little city you call home? I've come a long way from Philly and let me tell you, it wasn't just for a job. The rumors are true, right? It isn't all like-\" David threw his arms out around him billowing out the space he took up, \"right?\"\n\nJohn smiled, \"oh no, this is a city filled with women of a special caliber. Ten to one amazing athletic chicks to men, I mean truly, the only thing you have to worry about is getting on the marriage curve. All the bars around this block are great to pick-up the ladies, all the groceries stores once you get your game up but- be warned- don't try any sort of family place. It's the marriage curve starting point.\"\n\n\"Okay, a marriage curve? I don't plan on getting hitched uh, John right? I'm not getting married, that's not my life plan yet.\"\n\n\"No, oh no it's much worse than that- they're married. The women cheat with you and for whatever reason you're the one that gets blackballed. I've seen men get fired for it, I've seen others chased out of town, the marriage curve is a devastating thing to be caught on the wrong side of.\"\n\n\"They wouldn't do that....you just have to watch for the ring. That problem is everywhere,\" David leaned against the door frame relaxing at his clever solution.\n\n\"If it were that simple no one would have this problem, David. The new world, the tech world, doesn't stick exclusively to wedding rings. Anyway, wear protection- and watch out for a husband, that's the real danger,\" John backed off, nodding at David once. David hid back behind his door, John lingered about his door as the neighbor from apartment 8 strutted by. She'd been around John a few nights but he still missed his chance, even in a town like this one. Time to try again."
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[WP] A perfect, 100% successful treatment is found for people born with blindness. The first patient to receive the cure just got the bandages removed...and immediately starts screaming, pointing at seemingly nothing, flinching from mere shadows. Same happens to every other treated person too.
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"History was about to be made, and Dave Clark was going to be there to report it. This was his big break, all those years toiling away working shitty desk jobs at small town newspapers and chasing stories to make chump change for what he should be getting paid hundreds of thousands more for. But it's funny how plans turn out, Dave thought. He works his ass off day in and day out only to find that the chance that will finally get him where he wants to go is given by complete and utter failure.\n\nDave had been hot on a lead on this story in LA about some psycho killer who would drown people in their own kitchen sink with their own blood. Real fucked up stuff. There had been no connection in the cases when Dave first started reporting on it until, one day, when he was at the crime scene, he overheard some cops talking about how the killer somehow killed these people but never broke in or left any fingerprints. Dave didn't believe in God but that day he had some sort of God given sense to look into plumbers in the area, because who else works on sinks and could just walk in the house? It seemed damn obvious but it had been worth the shot. Dave had linked plumbing work to all the locations where the killings had gone down from the same person. He knew this wasn't a coincidence and immediately sold the lead to the LA Times for them to publish and to make a quick buck. Everything was going great until there was a knock on the door and a plumbing truck outside his house unexpectedly. Later, Dave was told he killed the guy in self defense but had suffered critical wounds and blood loss from repeated stabbings, with, of all things, a screwdriver. But all that didn't matter because the next thing Dave knew he was in the hospital, somehow alive and in the hands of one of the best doctors in the country, James Marshall. \n\nEverything about James Marshall screamed genius to Dave, his slicked back hair, his clean glasses, and perfectly trimmed beard, the clipboard he carried around full of numbers and other important genius things. He was always dressed in a sharp white lab coat and wore a thousand times polished name tag where you could see your face in the reflection, right behind the bold letters of JAMES MARSHALL. Anyways, the guy told him that he was very lucky to be alive and all that jazz and that he would make it out alive if he stuck the the treatment that they gave him. Well, the treatment went great but what even Marshall couldn't have predicted was that they would become friends. Going in for checkups and status reports Dave and James really hit it off and Marshall finally gave Dave the break he was looking for. He told him about it only because Marshall felt bad about the outrageous medical bills Dave would have to pay and wanted to help his newfound friend out. It turns out that Marshall had found a cure for blindness with a 100% success rate. Not only was the guy a genius but he was also Jesus, some people just have it so good. Anyways the mass public wasn't aware of the breakthrough and they were going to publish the findings after the first trial was completed. Marshall invited Dave to break the story. \n\nSo here Dave was. Behind a glass observatory, standing amongst doctors way too smart for him to even be in the same room as them, and lucking his way through life. He was about to witness the first of five people's blindness cured through an experimental \"shock\" treatment. To Dave it just looked like a bunch of wires and electricity but he was told it was science and it would work so he believed it and just took notes. Who was he to argue anyways? The guy was blindfolded and strapped down to a table parallel to the ground. Dave looked over to Marshall, wearing his clean lab coat and glasses, standing next to the switch he would flip to get the whole party started. Some guy gave a thumbs up and Marshall flipped the switch, and it began. He heard a whir as the machine spinned up and the patient's body straightened up like a plank. The body started to shake up and down and it looked like the man was break away from the straps holding him down on the table and fly away or some shit. Piercing screams started erupting from the guy who looked like he was about to explode he was shaking so much, but the machine stopped, and everything was quiet. People stared in anticipation as Marshall approached the poor guy and said a few things. He undid the straps and told him to stay still. It was time. The big reveal. Marshall reached over to the blindfold and slowly lifted it off. The guy sat up and looked around saying nothing at first. And then he said it. \"I can see\". The three words sent everybody into cheers. The scientists around Dave whooped and hollered and Marshall turned around to look at the glass mirror and saw everyone cheering and gave a huge smile. Everyone seemed to forget about the guy on the table for a second, and in that second, all hell broke loose. Another scream, this time not of pain, but of fear. All the cheering stopped as the patient pushed past doctor Marshall and came up to the glass everyone was standing behind and punched it. It shattered into a thousand pieces. The patient then sat down and covered his eyes and started whimpering. Everyone was in shock. Marshall and a couple nurses hurried over and tried to move the guy but he wouldn't budge. Soon they brought out a gurney and picked him up and put him on it and took him out of the room. What had been elation turned into a quiet nervousness. Marshall in particular looked shaken. Some scratches had begun to show in that normally perfect name tag of his. \n\nDave looked around and a lot of people were wondering what to do. There were more patients so they could go on, but everyone seemed shaken by what had happened so there was talk of postponing the other treatments. It didn't matter to Dave, the guy had said he could see so why did he care? He finally got the story the world would want to read. Marshall gathered everyone and took the lead. He wanted to continue the treatments for today regardless of what had just happened and he wanted to do it immediately. Marshall was convinced that the guy had just been spooked by seeing everything for the first time and reacted poorly. So they ushered in the new patient, this time a girl. Dave continued to record what was going on, completely absorbed by the story and trying to get every detail possible. As they were strapping her up, Dave thought about how he could take the money from this and run. Every single newspaper would want this story and he could sell it the highest bidder and just get away from this living hell. The machine started. That same beautiful mix of whiring and shaking and screaming filled the room again, but this time louder due to the glass protection not being there. The screaming seemed to last for hours but in reality only a few seconds had passed. Marshall again approached the patient and talked to the her. He undid the straps and she sat up. He began to slowly remove the blindfold. The girl blinked a couple of times and looked around. All of the sudden she pointed to a corner of the room and yelled \"What is that?\". Everyone looked and saw nothing. The girl ran into the opposite corner of the room and curled up there, shivering. Nurses again came into the room and took the patient away. Dave couldn't believe this was happening. Well, he didn't really know what exactly was happening but it was all gold. The doctors again gathered in the middle of the room. This time it was decided that the trials should be stopped and picked up again tomorrow. Everyone was shaken. Just before Dave was about to leave Marshall pulled him to the side. Dave noticed that a normally perfect piece of hair was hanging down on Marshall's head as He said, \"I know you saw some things today but I need you to not report what you saw for a little while until we can figure out what happened. We are on the verge of a great discovery and we need to keeps this under wraps until we are fully ready to go public with it.\" He told him he agreed but what did it matter. He was going to publish this shit no matter what happened. This was not only his ticket to the big leagues but to a nice fucking beach house. And isn't that what everyone wants?\n\nSo when he got back he called up the New York Times and told them what he had. Of course they were interested, it was the biggest story of this decade. He negotiated and they went back on forth on a price until Dave was satisfied and then he sold it. He was so fucking happy, as soon as he hung up he went to the store and bought bottle of champagne and drank with himself until he was so drunk that he passed out on his kitchen floor eating some raw spaghetti-o's straight out of a can. The thing was, when Dave woke up, it wasn't next to some damn spaghetti-o's. It wasn't even on his kitchen floor. When Dave woke up, he was parallel to the floor strapped into a bunch of wires and looking at his reflection in a name tag.\n"
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[WP] You are stranded on a large island for 6 years. You stumble into a cave that you thought was housing dire wolves, and find a door to a secret non government high tech facility.. The kicker, your fingerprints open all of the doors as administrator.
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[
"There was nothing I could remember about this place, no matter how hard I racked my brain. Why then, did I find it so familiar? Dragging my hand along the cold grey walls, I felt as though I had been here before. Even stranger, this place acknowledged me as \"Administrator\".\n\nRounding the corner, I made my way into a brightly lit room. Hundreds of cylindrical tanks formed perfect rows wall to wall. Inside each one, bobbing up and down as though it had been undisturbed for years, was a small fetus, being kept alive by some sort of life support. I stopped to glance at one of them, and noticed something on its leg. A birthmark, just like mine. Walking down the rows and checking each one, I realized that they all had this birthmark.\n\nA door beckoned to me at the other end of the room. I couldn't help but scan my thumb, and slowly, it revealed a device obviously fashioned to be fixed around one's head. On the floor in front of it was a note. The note read:\n\n\"Hello Dave. You may be wondering what this place is, and why you seem to be connected to it. I have written this letter to remind you.\n\nI am one of history's greatest scientists, so great in fact, that I had to build this lab to keep my findings away from the wrong people. Alas, I have grown old and weak. My days are numbered, and my work is not yet finished. You are the first of many clones I have made of myself in order to continue my legacy. I have prepared this machine to bring you up to speed, so to speak. Simply place it on top of your head, fasten it securely, and it will upload all of the inner workings of my brain to yours. Everything will make sense once it has done its work. I wish I could stick around to see where my work will continue, but I know that you will do great. After all, you're me.\""
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What can happen in the afterlife, or which afterlife it is, is up for interpretation.
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[WP] People who hurt you, physically or emotionally, leave tangible marks on your soul. You awake in the afterlife with large parts of yourself missing.
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"The drugs and alcohol had finally caught up with me, it was only a matter of time. For far too long I had been punishing myself and the body can only take so much before everything just begins to shut down. It had been less than a year since the people around me had really taken notice of my condition, the deterioration that began to show on the outside. For so long, everything had been kept inside, able to be hidden from others. My pain was my own, I dealt with it alone. Until my mask began to crack and once it cracked, it split wide open for the world to see. There was no more hiding, I was too far gone. \n\nNow, once again I realize I'm alone and as I become more aware of a new reality, I feel more pain, I feel gut wrenching terror and a deeper sadness than I'd ever have believed possible. This can't be, there has to be more. There has to be more of me! All the pain, the abuse, the grief and loss I've already been through wasn't enough. All of those people who hurt me got to walk away with a piece of me, how is that fair? What hurts the most is that the biggest piece missing, that's the one I took away from myself. ",
"Each living body has a soul that shines greatly. When we are first born, our souls are like suns that are supposed to brighten the lives of those around us. If we die young, say right out of the womb, our souls transcend into the sky and another sun is put alight. The longer we live without knowing pain, our soul shines brighter, and so a bigger sun will appear once that soul's abode dies. The problem with this, is that so many of us in the past and present have been hurt so much, that our sky is mostly darkness at night. These love-dessicated suns have downgraded into stars with dark mass around them.\n\nIt isn't always lonely for these stars. If they had a close relationship with their sibling, they would form a constellation. Lovers sometimes become one in this galactic afterlife aswell, by combining their souls into a megasun, or just a large star, it depends on how they were as people when they were alive. \n\nBut sometimes, not everyone is as giving or caring as the next person. There are people who wanted it all, and stopped at nothing to get their desires or lusts fulfilled. If they lived simply to fulfill their needs while trying not to hurt anyone, they were simply reincarnated into an empty space. However, if they lived solely to hurt others they would turn into a black hole. For example: the man whom lived without regulating their morals, was simply empty space. The dealer who ran around playgrounds looking for people to profit off of, would be the blackhole whom stole a kid's light of their soul. \n\nAfter a certain amount of time, people who became simply darkness get a shot at life again, if they want. They are reincarnated through multiple different levels of species before human though. Some are reborn as grass, then ladybugs, and their new abode continues to grow larger into all different kinds of animals until they have reached becoming a human. Of course, they can always be reborn as one animal forever, but only if they die the same within the same night another is born. It just adds another connection of death to rebirth. Sadly, there are people who will get lazy and not want to continue living and dying until they become human again. They simply become dark matter in the night sky again. \n\nIt's kind of a nice way of thinking about the afterlife-- by tying them to see the stars we see everynight. I like to think that's what they mean when someone says \"(insert cherished one) is looking down on me,\" as if the graves we are buried in don't confine our soul's wish to do good. But something really troubles me... if you notice the ratio of stars to darkness, you will obviously notice there's more darkness. Does that mean the world is full of evil than it is of light? ",
"Noise music. That's what they called the whine of a red Fender Stratocaster with the humbuckers ripped off and reattached like spikes on a weapon. The sound was channeled through a loop, a stereo-chorus, and a fuzz box; it was pushed through a half-broken Orange amp, into the plugged ears of teenage angst. Keyboards revving like a motorcycle drove the audience into a frenzy. Drums smashing like waves on a burning mountain erupted sound into the minds of the youth. A siren spoke into the microphone a cacophony of rude phrases while swirling her jet black hair; there were no sailors here to entice with song. Three hundred dollars for a fifty minute set, five percent of the tabs from the front of the house. Two hours of packing and unpacking gear. One mosh pit with thirty-three black eyes and ten bruised chests. Fifteen alcoholic drinks. Three bong hits. Ten hits of cocaine. One hit of PCP. Three girls, faceless, no wings.\n\nJust another night. Just noise music.\n\nThis morning there was no ringing in this siren's ears. My guitar was gone from my room. The walls here are pale gray, an empty set. I miss my old room, where the wallpaper was a flower arrangement, pealing off in places and covered in posters of metal bands. I'm here because I ran away from home. I used to live with my dad, a southern racist bastard who still went to church on Sundays and Wednesdays. He used to beat me and my mom. My mom was the one who decorated my old room with the flower wallpaper. She left when I was really young; I used to remember her face, but I can't remember anymore. My memories are pealing off, just like my mom's flower wallpaper.\n\nI fucked three girls last night and brought them home. Where did they go?\n\nI stumbled through my room and reached for the door. The door didn't open. For some reason, my left arm was missing. A glance at the mirror showed black fingers of lightning emanating from where my arm once was. I screamed, but no sound came out. I was voiceless.\n\nI toppled over back onto the bed. I've heard of bad trips but never had one myself. It was the PCP, for sure. I just need to go back to sleep; I'll sleep it off.\n\n***\n\nThe three girls cooed over me and caressed my chest. They began to touch me, kiss me. I pushed them off and sat up in a sweat. This time I was awake and sober. But my arm was still gone, my voice, still empty. The three girls postured themselves around my bed. Each girl spoke in turn:\n\n\"Our Lord demands your company.\"\n\n\"The slain require summoning.\"\n\n\"Your axe awaits in his hands.\"\n\nThe three left the room in turn, and the last once beckoned me with a finger.\n\nI followed into a marvelous garden. Brilliant streams echoed down smooth granite canals and green hills wrapped the horizon in every direction. Before me, the cobblestone path pointed to a palace in the distance made from old, beautiful wood. The gardens, though beautiful, were eerie. There was no sound save our footsteps on the path, the rustling of the wind, and the trickle of the streams. No animals or birds, no cars, and no rock concerts.\n\nWe ambled into the palace and stepped before a modest throne. It was occupied by a tall man with silver hair. He rested a large spear against his shoulder. He wore a circlet of pure gold, a Mastadon t-shirt, blue jeans, and a scarlet robe. In his lap, he held my red Fender Stratocaster.\n\n\"I am Odin, and you are worthy of the mantle of Valkyrie.\""
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The ability to read minds is random and is not passed down through genes .
I'm also imagining that there would be some kind of decision between the readers and non readers.
Edit: I forgot to add that the mind reader's can't read each other's minds.
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[wp] Half of earth's population can read the rest of the population's thoughts, however, you've decided to keep your ability hidden from everyone.
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[
"I did what everyone does in a waiting room: At first I read the news on my phone, then I checked to see that I still didn't have any new text messages, and then I began to wander my eyes around the area. \"The Reader Room is soundproof,\" an old red-lettered sign read next to a big metal door. A silent chuckle cracked in my head, *Soundproofing that room isn't going to change those screams of a madman when the gift kicks in.* It was a vain attempt at making it better. I guess I should give them credit for that. At least they tried. But, no matter what, one of the two things happened in the Reader Room when you turned twenty right on the clock:\n\nScenario one: Nothing. Nothing would happen. They would take the straps off your arms and legs, and send you on your merry way. It meant you weren't a Reader. It meant you were fine. It meant you got to live a normal, happy life. \n\nOr scenario two: Everything. And by \"everything,\" I mean *everything* would happen. All at once. The thoughts of four billion people shot up into your head within a split second. The thought of a child's birthday party, the thought of making love, the thought of taking a man's life. It meant you were a Reader.\n\nDo you know how sometimes you want to scream out loud with just your own fucked up thoughts in your head? Yeah, imagine the thoughts of four billion people. My old man used to say that it got better over the years. He always told me how he had learned to live with it. Supposedly, he had learned how to isolate voices, how to tell them apart, how to silence the others. But I guess that never happened with my sister. She was what we called a Lost Reader, someone who couldn't find a way to live with it. So she didn't. She took her own life. Many did. \n\n\"Gabriel Grayson?\" the woman asked as she shuffled into the waiting room in her oversized dress. \n\n\"Yes?\" \n\n\"Your time is in two minutes. Please proceed to the Reader Room and put on the equipment as described in the manual on the screen.\"\n\n*Equipment. Yes, you mean the restraints. The straps on my arms and legs. So that I don't accidentally hurt myself while screaming at the initial pain if I'm a Reader. \"Equipment.\"*\n\n\"Yes, Ma'am.\"\n\nThe metal door opened. I proceeded into the Reader Room. I sat down in the chair. The instructions were on the screen to the left of me. Right in front of me was one-way glass. I knew they were watching me. They had to know. They logged all the Readers for government regulations. It made sense, right? I leaned down to put the leather straps around my ankles. I noticed that my right foot began to shake involuntarily. *It's going to be fine. Your father had it. Your sister had it. And it's 50/50. Your mother didn't have it. So you shouldn't have it, Gabe. You'll be okay.* I then had to simply rest my arms on the armrest on the chair and press the button under my right-hand palm to activate automatic straps for my wrists and my chest. \n\n\"30 seconds,\" the woman's distorted voice said through the speaker.\n\n*This is it. It's almost my birthday. I'm almost twenty. At least I will now know for sure. I won't be a Reader. It won't hurt. I won't have to go through this. And if not... well, I'll have to find a way to live with it like my father.*\n\n\"Ten... nine...\"\n\n*I'll be okay. I'll be fine.*\n\n\"Two... one...\"\n\nI heard a voice. Then two. Then ten hundred. A million. I heard a man holding his son for the first time. I heard a woman crying as she was being raped. I heard condolences as people died and words of celebration at the weddings. I heard the blood splatter of the innocent and the blood splatter of those who had deserved it. I heard the rage of those who killed. I heard the grief of those who lost. I heard the absolute best and the absolute worst of the world all at once. \n\nI heard them all. *And I felt nothing.*\n\nI was supposed to be convulsing in pain and screaming from it all. Instead, I sat still. I didn't even twitch. I felt absolutely nothing. \"Congratulations, Mr. Grayson. You are a Non-Reader. Pick up your Non-Reader card at the front desk. Good luck, Mr. Grayson.\" The straps fell to the sides. I got up and proceeded to the front desk.\n\n_________________________________\nThanks for reading! I'll write a continuation if people want it!"
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*: or rendered in some other fixed format where copyright would apply (film, game, audio recording, etc.).
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[WP] Every story that's ever written* is a world that's created. Authors are criminally liable for the actions of their characters.
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"John peered outside of the small window to the side of his door to confirm that it was the police. He had heard about what was happening on the news, and had been feeling utter dread ever since. He knew they would come for him. The saddest part was that he didn’t even write anymore. He had given up ages ago. How could anyone have even known what they had done? He opened the door. In front of him stood two officers. One was tall with intense eyes, the other short and stocky. The tall one made him seem even shorter.\n\n“Mr. Kelly?” The taller officer inquired.\n\n“Yes, that’s me.”\n\nThe officer removed his hat, “If you’d allow us to come in, we need to talk.”\n\nWe sat in my living room, I on my couch and the two officers seating themselves in chairs on the other side of my small coffee table. “How can I help you gentlemen?” My voice fluttered slightly. \n\nThe shorter officer spoke up with a tinge of Brooklyn in his voice, “I’m Officer Carmine, and this is my partner Officer Barnes. I’m sure you’ve heard about recent discoveries on the news.”\n\n“Yes.”\n\n“It’s come to our attention that you are involved,” He placed a thick stack of papers on the table, “This is your portfolio.”\n\n“Look, I-“\n\n“Mr. Kelley,” Officer Barnes interjected, “We’re here to help you. I’m going to ask you a few questions, and I’d like it if you answered them honestly.”\n\nI swallowed, “Okay. May I ask what exactly has gotten me into trouble?”\n\n“Of course,” Barnes picked the portfolio off of the table and opened to the first page, “We’ll start here. You wrote, ‘Susan grabbed his nuts forcefully, and smacked them with a paddle as though she were playing racquetball…’” The policemen looked up from the paper into my eyes, “Do you recall writing this?”\n\nMy throat went dry as memories of the things I had put on paper came rushing back to me, “No, sir. Not particularly.”\n\n“Do you deny writing it?” Carmine questioned.\n\n“No sir.”\n\n“Alright then,” Barnes looked back down at my writings, “Let’s continue. ‘He forcefully inserted the fornax into her B-hole, and activated the sex lasers.’”\n\n“Look, I was fourteen.”\n\n“With cooperation we may be able to try you as a juvenile.”\n\n“This is insane!” I shouted. \n\nBarnes discretely placed a hand on his belt, “Let’s just stay calm now. Like I said, we’re here to help.”\n\n“It’s just,” I looked at both of the officers, exasperated and desperate, “I wrote this stuff when I was a kid, and how could anyone have imagined what the consequences would be?”\n\nCarmine folded his hands, “Ignorance does not excuse what’s happened here.”\n\n“*Nothing* has happened here,” I leaned in towards them, “I wrote words on paper. That’s *it*. If I’m not under arrest, you two should leave.”\n\n“Just one last thing.” Officer Barnes began to turn to a page he had marked with a small yellow tab.\n\n“Jesus Chirst. What now?”\n\n“I’ll read this one,” Carmine said, taking the book from Barnes, “He cranked the catapult back to maximum power, and fired. This sent a ten ton bag of *dicks* directly into a bus full of retards. Everyone died...”\n\nBarns looked at his partner, “That’s a hard ‘R’.”\n\n“Hard ‘R’.” He agreed. \n\nBoth of the officers stared at me for what felt like a lifetime, their faces stone cold with seriousness. Barnes broke the silence. “You’re a sick puppy Mr. Kelly.”\n\n“Sick,” his partner concurred, “With this evidence, you will likely be tried as mentally ill.”\n\nI was in shock. This wasn’t happening. This was a nightmare and it wasn’t real. “…What?”\n\n“All of this is just the tip of the iceberg of what’s in this portfolio. You belong in an institution sir.”\n\nI began to beg, “No no no no no! Listen I’m thirty four now. I wrote that shit when I was a little kid!”\n\n“There’s an inordinate amount of anal play in these writings as well,” Barnes began, glancing at Carmine who began picking through the tabs in the stack of paper, “In fact you detail it specifically.”\n\nA single page was separated and placed on the table. Carmine slid it across to my side with his fingers. It was an author’s note…something I had never used but vaguely remember giggling about. I picked up the paper. In black print, there it was. *”My writings contain a myriad of examples of butt crimes, for which there is no stature of limitation.”*\n\nThe two officers stood up. Jay Barnes tucked his fingers into his belt and began, “Well Mr. Kelly, you are under arrest for innumerable butt crimes against your fellow man,” Cuffs clacked around my wrists, “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney one will be provided for you. Understanding your rights, is there anything you would like to say to me?” \n\n\"...No\"\n\nI never saw the light of day again… \n",
"Once upon a time, in a quiet little town by the name of Nothing-illegal-ville, everyone cared for and respected each other. Not a single person was violent, and everyone kept careful regard for the safety and well being of all of the town's citizens. As the years went by everyone continued to behave in the same manner that they always had, and they all lived happily ever after. And u/hobbesthetigerisfuzz was never arrested for any wrongdoing whatsoever. The End. ",
"Linda got her first inkling of what the day had in store for her when Mike greeted her by the coffee machine.\n\n\"Heard you got a big case coming your way, Linda.\"\n\n\"Hmm.\" Linda-before-coffee was a woman of few words. The coffee burbled into the pot.\n\n\"Maybe if this goes well they'll take you out of zombie lit, huh?\" Mike prodded. He already had his coffee--decaf, probably for the best since even a normal Mike was a little too perky to be working in an attorney firm. Then again, he was still new, and a lot of the new kids were excited at the prospect of defending their favorite authors and directors. Their enthusiasm typically started to fade after the fifth dead teenager movie.\n\nLinda mixed up her coffee, two sugars and just enough cream to make it opaque, and sipped as Mike continued talking. Her mind started to process again.\n\n\"Wait, case?\" She interrupted, looking at him in surprise. \"What case?\"\n\n\"Yeah, Mr. Wilson sent it down on Friday. You didn't check your email?\" Mike asked, surprised.\n\n\"I was at a family reunion all weekend,\" Linda replied. She'd spent a good chunk of the time avoiding the TV, and whatever season finales were going on. Just thinking about Game of Thrones or The Walking Dead gave her a headache now. But that wasn't important; she pulled out her phone and checked her email. Sure enough, there was a new message from her boss. She opened it and skimmed the introductory lines briefly. Offices are busy, you've been very successful, blah blah blah--\n\nLinda's eyes widened. Mike was saying something behind her, but all she could hear was babble. Not even looking up, she walked away, leaving her half-drunk coffee behind. A couple more people greeted Linda as she headed through the office, and she stumbled through small talk. By the time she reached her desk she felt almost normal again. The sight of the stacks of case files waiting for her squelched that feeling. But no, this was exactly the kind of work she'd been trying for. Taking a deep breath, she dropped into her chair, cracked her knuckles, and took down the first of the folders.\n\nCase File #1: Krypton",
"\"You're under arrest, Mr. Martin.\" The officer at the door was dead serious, his eyes locked forward and his lips clamped in a thin line that dared not show any emotion. For what it was worth, the murderer came quietly, at first. \n\n\"Officer,\" the short, plump man spoke softly, more curious than angry in every way, \"You never said what I was under arrest for.\" Before the officer would answer, he opened the back of his cruiser and helped the thick man plop his body down onto the cool leather in the hot summer heat. The door snapped shut with only a small push from the tall, well-built officer in navy blue. \"Officer Karst?\" \n\n\"Mr. Martin, that you wouldn't know the extent of your crimes is almost punishable by itself. Please, do yourself a favor and shut the hell up.\" Karst lowered himself into the front of his car, closing the door with a soft slam before buckling himself up. \"And, besides, it's not like you would be able to argue yourself out of this. Everyone has seen the evidence by now, either seen the footage or read the reports of the murders.\" \n\n\"What in the blue hell are you talking about?!\" \n\n\"George, frankly, you disgust me.\" \n\n\"I've not killed anyone!\" \n\n\"Sure, and the Lannisters never send their regards, you psycho.\""
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[WP] The hunter was very familiar with the beast that made the footprints. He was more worried about what made the second set of footprints, chasing the first.
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"\"A hare. Simple enough prey, shouldn't be difficult.\"\n\nHe lines up his crossbow as he silently exhales.\n\n\"Got you.\"\n\nWith a clear kill shot in sight he lightly presses down on the trigger before a large snapping sound breaks his concentration. He grunts.\n\n\"Broken string. That makes things more difficult.\"\n\nThe hare is gone.\n\n\"Looks like it's run off into the treeline, tracks lead in this direction.\"\n\nHe follows into the dense forest with improbably silent steps, a long hunting knife drawn. The fresh tracks forming a straight line for hundreds of feet.\n\n\"That's unusual, it should have exhausted itself by now.\"\n\nHe continues on with caution. Slowly the trees begin to recede, as what appears to be a den becomes gravely apparent. As he reaches the centre of a large clearing the tracks suddenly stop.\n\n\"No more tracks...\"\n\nAs he analyses the dirt, what appears to be a large claw mark screams at his senses, along with several fresh blood droplets.\n\n\"Blood, and a scratch. But where's the body?\"\n\nA haunted look appears on his face.\n\n\"This was a mistake... I need to leave, now!\"\n\nHe begins to retreat, as a single drop of blood falls upon his hand.\n\n\n\n",
"Four hours had passed since Edward and Benjamin had left their village. It was a cold winters night, the sort were the snow flakes felt like needles on the skin. \n\nThey had been tracking the beast for the last few miles. They were cold, wet and terribly hungry; but so was the entire village of Watersend. They could not return empty handed, for that would be worse than not returning at all. \n\n\"Edward, the foot prints.\" Benjamin manages to utter, his lips the colour of the nights sky. \"What are those others?\" \n\nEdward doesn't answer. He had heard the tails of the beast of Windhall forest. But they were just tails; stories told to the children to stop them wondering alone in the forest at night. But the foot prints, were not of the bore they were hunting and in fact he hadn't seen any like these. They were buried deep in the snow, the weight of this beast alone, left no snow underneath when it stood. Edward knew this forest like no man before; every animal and tree he had known. But these, these weren't something he had seen before. \n\nHe breaks from his daydream and turns to reply to Benjamin. But he wasn't there. It was as if he vanished, silent. His footstep weren't in the snow beside Edward. He walked a few paces back, and he saw the last of Benjamin's foot prints. In the snow beside them, the foot prints which he saw before, left by no creature he had known. \n\n\"Benjamin, Benjamin!\" He shouted. But no reply. \n\n\"Benjamin, Benjamin!\" Again no reply.\n\n\"Ben—\"... \n",
"There's a stillness that fills the air when two predators are near each other. Some days it feels as if the world watches with bated breath for the outcome, knowing one life must be forfeit. Such are the rules of the hunt which I pitted myself against each October and it was a game I played well. \n\nI'd been tracking her for more than three days over some of the toughest wilderness I'd ever been through, long enough that I knew her paw prints by sight and had a basic idea for her routine. Eat and move. Bears as big as her focused primarily on food, storing as much as they could for the upcoming winter, and I could already feel the bitterness in the air that told me she didn't have much time left. The nights had grown colder and the leaves looked like they'd just begun to have been touched with the painters brush. \n\nI had hoped to catch up to her by the middle of the third day and had already given the bear a name; Caitlyn, after my ex-wife. Somehow it made my kills more therapeutic and when I took that final shot, I could almost feel the tension being released from the world like a coiled spring. \n\nI had always seen the similarity between the hunt and life. The sharp report of the rifle signaling a coming change, the moment of truth when fate was unavoidable, and then the inevitable impact. Destiny, like the trajectory of a copper-jacketed bullet, was often difficult to change and when a life was being given up, the world sighed. It was the same emotion when I finally removed my finger from the trigger. It was destiny set in motion. \n\nThus, I was perplexed when I noticed her tracks change. Instead of her casual gait, her prints began to spread out as if Caitlyn went from a walk to a dead sprint. This didn't bode well for me since a healthy bear could run for almost sixty kilometers before they got tired. If she ran too far, I'd lose her for good and there just wasn't any more time left to pursue her. Had she caught wind of me?\n\nI followed for a few more miles, watching with a sinking heart that she never seemed to let up. Then I noticed something odd. A second set of prints following the first except these looked like they belonged to a barefoot man. \n\nNot just a man, a *child*. \n\nI studied those prints for what felt like an hour, trying to make sense of what I was seeing. There was no doubt the child's prints overlapped that of the bear. Both were recent and I could sense the bear was panicked. She didn't rear up at any point. She just ran and inexplicably, the child followed. Not just followed; *hunted*. \n\nI almost turned back then. \n\n*A running bear could never be caught in time*, I thought, but I knew it wasn't true. I *could* catch her but what about the child? What was someone that young doing out here where even men feared to venture too far? This was true wilderness and not even I went barefoot. \n\nI followed, partly motivated by a smoldering curiosity and partly from the stubbornness that cost me my marriage. It was a vice and virtue in one, two sides to a tarnished coin. Still, no matter how hard I pressed, the tracks never let up. No man could keep pace with a bear and yet it appeared that was exactly what happened. \n\nThen I saw her in a clearing. She was as beautiful as I imagined; nearly 400 pounds of muscle and fury contained within an auburn coat. I brought my rifle to bear, squinting through my scope for signs of trouble and yet all I could see were parts of her flank concealed behind a large tree. Worse, I saw blood. \n\nMy instinct kicked in and fearing for the safety of the child, I shot once. It wasn't meant to be a kill shot, merely a warning to wound the bear away from whatever fool wandered too far into these dangerous woods, yet the bear didn't react. Worse, the wound didn't even bleed. \n\nI crept closer to the clearing, my heart threatening to escape through my chest. At best, someone had poached my kill, but the alternative was unthinkable. I expected a tangle of pale skin, glassy eyes staring accusingly up at me, but I only found Caitlyn. Her stomach was open and the sheen of sweat told me she had been running hard. Not hard enough. Neither were there any sign of my barefooted prodigy. Either way, it was time to leave. \n\nIt was only when I calmed my nerves that I recognized the hush in the air, as if the world was holding its breath. A few paces back the way I came confirmed what I had suspected; a small set of bare footprints matching my own. Once more, the spring was coiled and I knew by the end of the day, another life would be forfeit. Still, I knew the rules to this game and I would not prove to be such an easy catch. "
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[WP] In order to keep your inheritance from your obscenely rich uncle every year you must give away a million dollars to a random stranger over the internet. This is incredibly more difficult than you expected.
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"\"Why does no one want a million dollars these days? What changed since I was a kid?\" I sighed in exasperation as I shuffled through some papers on my desk. \"It's almost like all these hipsters are stupid or something, I mean a million bucks, who in their right mind would turn that down?!\". I finished my coffee and took a walk outside to stretch my legs. It doesn't matter that I've tried to get 418 people to accept my money, maybe the 419th will be smarter than the rest of those idiots. I head back inside to send the person the acceptance form. A couple hours pass and I get an email back. After reading it, I utter 6 simple words, \"I'm not a damn Nigerian prince!\" \n \n   \n   \n   \n----------------------- \nThis is my first response and I had to put my thoughts on paper, even though it was a lot better in my head"
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[WP] The darkness is not inherently evil nor is the light inherently good.
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"The darkness is not inherently evil. These were the first and last words on Caden’s lips. I should know. I was there. He said the first standing above me. Towering over my child’s stature, hands held behind his back, regarding me as the worm I was. Disregarding the shiver that ran through me and the fear I plainly wore on my face.\n\nThose first years were hard. Nights were spent awake, a thousand pulsing bruises and burns and breaks demanding my attention, tearing me from rest. Mornings were spent slowly, aching. And yet those same aches and pains would disappear during the day, because a new set of injuries would demand my immediate attention.\n\nCaden was an effective teacher. His master’s robes were grey. Once black, time and sunshine faded themselves to the tattered rags they were. And yet it somehow suited: there was nothing fresh or new about his teaching. His ways were of the old. They were of the experienced. His teaching was earned over time. And time has no substitute.\n\nHe said the last lying beneath me. Robes as ribboned. Singed marks crossing him like the graffiti I used to see in the lower city. No blood, our wounds were cauterized the second they occurred.\n\nThe darkness is not inherently evil. He told me, watching me from one eye, the other swollen shut. Nor is the light inherently good. His face was cast in the red glow of the weapon in my hand.\n\nThere is only power, he told me. The rest is inconsequential. There is no good or evil where there is power. Power dictates.\n\nHe knew this day would come. The second he took me as his apprentice. It is our way. Only the strong survive. Only the ruthless will last. \n\nOnly the powerful may rule. \n\nCaden was right, in that way, he gave me his blessing. I struck him down with the saber in my hand.\n\nNow I am the master.\n",
"Her hair was blond, her eyes blue, and she strolled down the streets at high noon when the sun's rays blasted all the shades away. Inky black snake like things relegated to the shadows in the burning light of day. She wore a cross but something was off about it, like costume jewelry put on to play a part; so I stayed in the shadows with the shades. The shades tickled as they ghosted over my skin but it was a feeling I was used to. Things were different now, the world had changed when the veil of the fae fell. Used to be people thought they could tell good from evil, but when the fae poured out across the world we learned quickly that the darkness is not inherently evil nor is the light inherently good. \n\nSo that blond over there, the one in the too white dress and the scruff free boots. I don't trust her. I'll stay right here. She sure seems to know where she is going but I've never seen her before, and this turf? This is my turf. \n\nSomething about her irks and so stupid as it sounds I follow her, staying in the darkness and rushing through the shades. They feel funny when I run through them. Like shivers as they close in on my heart, pumping hard so I have to slow down. That girl, she sure does move fast, too fast. There is no way she is human. So she a fae, and I wonder what she wants.\n\nI shift closer as she slows and try to hold my breath. An easy feat when I see that out there in the clearing is The Magi. He is mountainous tall and moves with a staff that can slice a person in half from miles away. He doesn't see me, he sees only little miss sunshine and I know she must be a big deal. But is she friend or foe? The enemy of my enemy is my friend? This is some heavy shit going down. So I move closer, I want to be able to hear them.\n\nThey ramble on in their talky talk and I get bored, sitting in the dirt retying my shoe so the laces lay flat. Or I would, but the blast of magic that radiates out of the clearing knocks me on my ass. And I was already on my ass! The blond is running in her too fast way and lucky for her the Magi sees me now and here he comes. Oh shit! I have to run too, only it is too little too late and my little legs are no match for him and my damn shoe is untied. \n\nI feel the shiver burn of the shades feeding on me as I run and the burning fire of the Magi's magic licking at my back when I see her, the blond fae, gone full banshee with her hair blazed out in the light and a blast of equally hot magic barreling at me. Ducking I let the shades drift over my body in a claim of dibs as magic hits magic above me, inches from my nose. Holy shit but that is hot. All that breath I was holding comes rushing out of me and still I have the wherewithal to shrink away like a mouse, to slip out of sight into some hole in the wall. Sleep takes me and I am cold yet I burn. My last conscious thought is *I hope I wake up while it is still light.*\n"
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[WP] Every 'would you rather' question you have ever answered comes true.
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"Breaking news! Hordes of parents in tears at realization they ate their children. Area mom claims, \"she thought she was eating a muffin.\"\n\n*Man, these /r/nottheonion articles just keep getting weirder,* I thought to myself while cleaning my computer. As I was cleaning, I knocked up some dust into the air and my nose felt ticklish. I tried holding it in, but it was too late. As I sneezed from the dust, I felt myself become female, realizing what bizarre sort of curse had just been inflicted upon the world.",
"I scraped at my skin, but it was hopeless. \n\n\"WHY DID I CHOOSE 'SWEAT CHEESE'?! WHYYYYY??!?!\"\n\nNow that I was actually experiencing it, I realized that I probably should have chosen the wandering eyebrows thing.\n\nI stopped scraping and briefly entertained a perverse notion. Slowly, inexorably, I lifted a piece of cheese to my mouth. I doubt my eyes ever swung so wide open so fast.\n\n*It was delicious. Like heaven rolled into a fried jalapeno delicious*. \n\n\"I wonder if I can sell this stuff...\" I mused, idly reaching up under my armpits for a larger piece.\n\n[Note: This is the only 'would you rather' I actually remember.]\n\n"
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[WP] Knowledge is currency.
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"\"I'll have a cup of coffee.\" The middle-aged gentleman stated, staring at the menu. It was pouring outside, and he needed to warm up. \"Raised your prices, I see. I guess I'll have to make it a small.\" \n \nThe younger, blonde girl handed the man his small coffee. \"That'll be 2-1/2 facts, sir.\" \n \nThe man took the coffee in his left hand and put his right hand on the scanner attached to what looked like a cash register from the old days of cash and credit cards. \"Ugh. I hope it takes something mundane. With my luck, I-\" \n \nA scream erupts from the man with his hand on the scanner. No one in the coffee shop bats an eye. \n \n\"Your transaction is complete.\" \n \nWhat was the capital of Scotland? What animal was known for having humps? Those 1-1/2 things he couldn't remember, inasmuch as the capital of Scotland began \"Eden\" or something along those lines. What was the other thing? Hrm. Maybe the man would figure it out later. \n \nThe man walked outside without his umbrella."
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[WP] On a wall, you see something in the enemy's language that translates to "STOP KILLING US" and now you're beginning to reconsider this whole invasion of Earth.
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"Stop killing them? We're helping them! We're freeing them, saving them even! Right?\n\nConfused, I turn to Zaragoza. \"We're helping them reach their final state, are we not?\"\n\n\"Don't be foolish Xuilur, you've seen them placed in ground after we've helped them yourself.\"\n\n\"Then what's this message mean?\"\n\nExasperated Zaragoza explains, \"You must remember they are a strange species. Our people work hard to be welcomed in the ground. The ground makes us earn our spot. These people fight the urge to go to ground - they even have facilities they put off going to ground. The only honorable way for them to go to ground is if another spills their liquid all over the ground. You've seen the celebrations and rituals they hold when this happens. You know we're helping them achieve their advanced form faster. They're even trying to help us be accepted faster by shooting us with metals like they do to their own kind.\"\n\nZaragoza tosses a bag of marbles to me. \n\n\"B1096Q bombs. Those will turn their insides out if one explodes near them. They're guaranteed to be welcomed in the earth that way. Drop one every 5,000 miles or so.\"\n\n\"Thanks. Once we finish here, may I work on translating more of their languages? The last few messages I've read haven't made any sense and I'm beginning to think some of their words have multiple meanings. They're so primitive and fascinating.\"\n\nSmiling, Zaragoza says, \"Focus first on helping the last of them reach the ground. Then you can study their languages, evolutions, and factions as much as you want while we maximize their planets energy potential.\"\n\nI smile as I toss a marble a few feet ahead of me. Very pale blue mist leaks from the ball to let me know it's successfully activated. I listen amazed as I can already hear a few of the \"humans\" in the distance begin to cough, then scream as the marble does its job.",
"\"You told us they were primitive!\" Sa'kwun did not bother to keep her voice quiet. Her words, angry and spitting, split the dark night of their encampment. Around her she could see her comrades politely turn their heads away from her outburst. It was direct insubordination to confront their commanding officer like this. \"Stupid! Dumb! Incabable of higher thought!\"\n\nShe shoved the evidence at the officer. A virtual image, captured from one of her scouting forays earlier in the day. \"Tell me, what part of this is primitive?\"\n\nSa'kwun's eyes smoldered. The rage she felt simmered just below her skin, barely contained. \n\n\"Primitive? No.\" The officer's own eyes glinted. Lips turned down in fury at Sa-kwun's rebellion, she stood. At full height she was just shorter than Sa'kwun. \"They have never, I repeat never, been primitive.\"\n\n\"Then the government has it wrong!\" Sa'kwun opened her mouth to keep going, intent on her battle.\n\n\"THE GOVERNMENT,\" Officer Ts'ege drowned out Sa'kwun's voice with her own, \"merely said savage. You are too fresh to know this.\"\n\n\"But this shows that they-\" Sa'kwun kept protesting.\n\n\"Enough.\" Ts'ege's tone was final. One by one the spectators moved off, leaving the disgraced Sa'kwun alone with Ts'ege. \"You will be reassigned tomorrow morning. You are a liability in the field. We can't have the natives divide us in this manner. If you are incapable of following orders then you would do better elsewhere. I have a unit to lead and no room for a sympathetic.\"\n\nSa'kwun saluted her superior, eyes bitter. Obediently she handed over her gathered data. Ts'ege pocketed it, silent.\n\nSavages, because that was the only answer the government had for a species that attacked without provocation. Savage, because the species had only perfected the art of killing, not of space travel or communication. They were savages because the government was afraid of the threat they posed. But never primitive. With knowledge that could exceed that of the invaders, nothing could be deemed primitive or unintelligent. \n\nTs'ege shivered at the ominous feeling something was watching her from beyond the camp's perimeter. And it wasn't one of her soldiers.\n"
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[WP] "They'll welcome you with open arms and shake you by the throat."
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"First post on this subreddit. Any constructive criticism is welcome. \n\nThe Prisoner\n\nHis wrists were raw from the iron cuffs that were fastened to them, though they were the only thing that was keeping the prisoner standing. He could feel the remnants of the cat o’ nine tails digging into his bare back, torn asunder by the whipping he had just suffered through. The blood had already dried and scabbed over. \n\t\nThere were no windows in the room the prisoner was in. The floor was made of cobblestone, with iron bars sprouting from it to the ceiling to form the six cells that practically filled the room, including his own. There was a small aisle that split the room evenly down the middle. At the end of the aisle there was a set of heavy iron doors. They were the only visible way out of the dungeon. Each cell had another prisoner in it, as well as a wooden bench that would have made for a good bed, had it not been guaranteed to give countless splinters to those who dared lay upon it. \n\n\tThis place smells of death…\n\n\t“It smells of waste, pain, and suffering. Not death, necessarily.” The prisoner would never get used to the rasping, foreign voice that occasionally sounded in his head. It was unlike any other voice that he had ever heard. He was terrified of it. Every word it said was accompanied by the inevitable feeling of panic. That was all the voice ever did. It only whispered dark musings, seemingly meaningless in the grand scheme of things. Until now, of course.\n\nDeath is preceded only by pain and suffering…\n\nAgain, he felt a pang of dread fill his heart. His thoughts went to those that used to be his fellow prisoners. When he first began his tenure in this prison, there were five others, all in their own separate cells. The prisoner had found it odd that they weren’t bound to the wall the same way that he was. They were free to roam around their cells, not that there was much to do. Still, the sight had only strengthened his desire to be free of his shackles. \nThey had hated him on that first day, though the prisoner didn’t know why. He could see it in their eyes, in the way that they glared at him as he was dragged into his cell, whispering when they didn’t think he was listening. He could feel their hatred in his bones.\n\nThen the first night passed. The prisoner fell asleep at the same time that he always did, every day since he had become of age. When he had awoken, there was a different feeling in the air. It almost felt like there was electricity flowing around the room. The prisoner instantly snapped awake, only to see that all of the others, still in their respective cells, were as far away from him as possible. There was a different look in their eyes that morning, and, judging by the dark circles under their eyes and the way that some of them kept nodding their heads periodically, none of them had gotten any sleep the night before. Everyone’s eyes were on him, and there was something different in the way that he was regarded.\n\nThey fear you…\n\nAgain, the feeling of despair and hopelessness sank in.\n\n“Why would they fear me? How am I something that deserves to be feared?”\n\nThe other prisoners didn’t fight their captors when they were dragged out of the room, one by one. They never took their eyes off of the prisoner. Their whimpers mixed with the sound of their feet dragging to create the most piteous sound that he had ever heard. \n\nIt’s all because of you…\n\nThe prisoner had always fought the negative, dark whispers of the voice. Ever since he had first heard it. That time was at an end, though. It had worn him down throughout the years. It was all he could do to recognize that the voice in his head was not who he was. It was someone else. It had to be.\n\nYour end is near…\n\nAlmost as if on cue, the prisoner heard the heavy iron doors across the room unlock with a heavy thunk. The sound of them grinding across the floor as they opened was the first sound the prisoner had heard in what seemed like an eternity.\n\nBesides the voice. There was always the voice.\n\nAn old man with a bushy, white beard entered the room. He was wearing ornate robes, wielding a rod made of gold with various religious symbols engraved and embossed into the knob at the top. Behind him, there was another, much larger man in steel full-plate armor with a heavy shield on his back and a longsword on his hip. Nothing was overly elaborate about the knight’s garb. Everything about him was made for practicality. \nThe old man leaned on his rod for support as he walked down the aisle that separated one half of the room from the other, muttering to himself. His eyes were fixed on the floor, while the knight’s eyes were transfixed on the prisoner, measuring him. Judging him.\n\nThe knight pulled a ring of keys from his belt, selected one of them, and inserted it into the cell door. The prisoner could hear the tumblers move as the key did its work. The moment the door was open, the knight was in front of the prisoner. In the fleeting moments that came, the prisoner looked into the knight’s eyes. For the first time since he was brought here, the prisoner saw no fear. There was only hatred and disgust. Then there was darkness.\nWhen the prisoner awoke, he was splayed on a table in another dark room similar to his cell. There were candles arranged around him, and he could smell incense being burned. As he took in his surroundings he found that he was accompanied by the knight and the old man. The old man was to his left and had stopped muttering, and was now sternly reading passages from a dusty old tome as he waved the golden rod around with fluid motions. The knight was standing to his right. He looked disheveled, and his hair was matted with blood that was coming out of a gash on the side of his head. The knight still silently stared at the prisoner with hatred and disgust, like his very existence was a sin.\n\n“Do you have anything to say for your defense?” the old man asked once he had finished reading from his tome. His voice belied his lack of sincerity behind the question.\n\n“Let us be done with this abomination.” the knight said curtly. His voice was as rough as the prisoner had expected. “He deserves no mercy, and we must not take the chance of his snake-tongue poisoning our minds.”\n\n“Our ways and laws are in place for a reason, Thrax, even though we may not see it.” The old man seemed annoyed with the knight, like he had given this lecture to him a million times before. The knight sighed, and they both looked at the prisoner expectantly. The prisoner only wept.\n\n“Very well.” said the old man summarily. He drew himself up, raising his golden rod above his head and uttering words from a language that was foreign to the prisoner. They sounded ancient, yet they were strangely familiar.\nWhen the old man seemed to finish his prayer, he looked the prisoner in the eyes and said, “Be on your way to the gods, prisoner. They will welcome you with open arms.”\n\nAnd shake you by the throat…\n\nThe old man lowered his rod and tapped the knob to the prisoner’s chest. Immediately, a white-hot pain shot through the prisoner’s body. He felt as if the rod had put ice on his chest, which was, in turn, setting his whole body on fire. The prisoner looked down to see what the old man had done to him. What he saw would stay with him for the rest of eternity.\n\nWhere the old man had touched him with his rod, a circle of what appeared to be black scar tissue emanated. The pain intensified as the simple circle began to shift and change before his eyes. After what seemed like an eternity, the dark circle had become a rune that was reminiscent of demonic activity. Once it became still, it began to emanate a deep orange glow, like that of a fire or lava. The pain never stopped for the prisoner. \n\nThe knight drew the sword that had been at his hip the whole time, holding it in front of his face and praying, eyes closed. The blade began to glow with a pale white light, presenting a hard contrast to the demon rune that had formed on the prisoner’s chest.\n\nThrax then spun the sword to point the blade downward, and reached out, hovering the point just above the prisoner’s chest.\n\nDirectly above the demon rune.\n\nAs the knight’s prayer reached its climax, he brought the sword down, quickly and smoothly. The prisoner only felt it’s cool edge momentarily, bringing a slight sense of relief to the fire inside of him.\n\nThen there was silence.\n\nSweet. Blessed. Silence\n\n"
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[WP] What has been your experience working at the International Arctic-Antarctic Drug Cartel?
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"We have fantastic supply of ice! haha..ha truth be told that joke never really did beak the ice. \n\nStill nothing? I guess you no longer feel like laughing eh?\n\nMy experience has been unique to say the least, managing and operating a successful drug cartel is difficult, even harder when your piss turns into mist before it touches the snow. I guess that's part of the reason why our drug cartel is so successful, *no* not because of frozen piss, but because no one wants to come anywhere near us to check we're doing things within the law. \n\nSo myself and a few people who were tired of the danger but in love with money moved from the hustle and bustle of America to the arctic circle, about as far north as we could go, we went. Canada really is lovely and although it is hard to live here, we've found that as more and more people find out about it they offer some help. \n\nBut why do they help? And how on earth do you remain a profitable business?\n\nThe answer to that lies in the minds of the filthy rich assholes who go to Antarctica of all places to spend a few months blowing millions of dollars partying. Of course you've never heard of it, you don't have the money to have heard of it, you only get told if the people think you have the ability to participate. \n\nScientists in Antarctica do a lot of work, the only problem is the cost, so if these passionate scientists want to continue their work and find the next big break through they're seeking they need funds. And so long as no one is hurt, they don't care where the money comes from, the bonus being that we are classified as a research too such that things sent by ship to antarctica go through no checks; there's no chance of anything being detected. \n\nStill awake? I hope so.\n\nOf course the boys and I get a fair chunk, enough so that in 5 years I'lll have enough money to splash hedonistically for another 150 years. And the rich get their blow so, there really isn't a downside. \n\nOf course besides someone trying to infiltrate our operation as their next big scoop, Vice was it? Didn't take much for you talk, just a piece of cloth and some water. This really saddens me too, three months man, I thought you were a friend. \n\nWell, by this point I'm sure you would have the perfect story, the on hand experience as a grunt and the complete business model of the entire operation. \n\nInstead you get to sit tied to this chair and find out if gasoline burns in sub zero temperatures. Here's an exclusive scoop:\n\nIt does."
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Maybe your whole consciousness is moved in for almost immortality or something.
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[WP] Whenever you die, all of the contents of your brain pours into the person nearest to you/your soulmate.
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"It's been a few years since she left her body behind, but I can still remember it like it was yesterday. I remember the way she looked at me as her family and friends were quietly ushered out of the room by the doctors. She was scared, she knew why we were being left alone together, she knew it had been coming for a while. \n\nI remember how weak I felt. So weak I could barely keep my composure. So weak I could barely raise my head to look at myself.\n\nI remember the touch of my hand. How hot and fevered my skin was. How softly it caressed my forehead and the way it settled my fears. \n\nI remember my voice. How empty it seemed, how small it sounded in the large open room. How soothing it was, to hear my words spoken, to know that I was loved. \n\nI remember whispering, \"You know I'll always be with you,\" to which I responded, \"You know I'll never forget you.\"\n\nMost of all, I remember my sorrow, my anguish of loss at the moment of my passing and how it was quelled and tempered by my peace, knowing that it was time for me to leave.\n\nI miss her. Now that I know her wholly and entirely, I miss her more than ever. Yet, there is comfort in her memories. To know the way I made her feel, when I would bring her breakfast. To know how loved I truly was. To know that she is still here with me. To know that I am her is a blessing far greater than I could ever deserve."
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[WP] You're the devil, and you're not really that bad
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"“Greetings, take a seat Lucy” said Michael from behind the marble desk, his feathery wings hung over the back of his chair as a coat would. His golden sword hummed gently as it lay flat on the table, more of an ornament than a weapon.\n\n“Thanks Mike, it’s been a while, how’ve you been keeping?” I asked with genuine interest.\n\n“So-so.” Michael said, with a smile. “You know why we invited you up here, don’t you?”\n\n“I have no idea Mike.” I lied.\n\n“We’ve been considering your re-entry into heaven.” He grinned happily as he spoke.\n\n“Really?” I gasped, feeling my cheeks redden immediately. “I don’t know what to say!”\n\n“We’ve been considering it, but we have a few things we need to iron out first.”\n\n“Anything Mike, you know how much I want this.” I said, eyes wide with hope, shuffling closer to the table.\n\n“It’s standard procedure to inform you that here in heaven we have a strict “no intervention” ruling unless explicitly stated from the big guy himself.” he paused briefly as he phrased the next sentence. “We’ve got a few records here of you… meddling in human affairs. We’re going to have to have you explain that before we open the gates again Lucy. I ask you to think carefully about your answers here.”\n\n“Of course, of course.” I reassured him, patting his arm gently. \n\n“You’ve been sighted on multiple occasions at the Staples Centre of downtown Los Angeles.”\n\n“Mike, you know I love the Lakers!” I objected playfully. “Everyone has hobbies.”\n\n“Let me finish.” said Michael calmly. “You’ve been seen at the Staples Centre, interfering with the outcome of the human game… basketball.”\n\n“I mean, like… once.” I muttered.\n\n“That’s unacceptable, Lucy.” Michael replied, he face unreadable. “Even just once.”\n\n“I couldn’t let the cavaliers win, not on our home turf Mike, come on!” I pleaded. “They still won the championship didn’t they? Nothing changed in the grand scheme of things.”\n\n“Only God may decide the grand scheme of things Lucy, you know this.” he said, again his face like stone.\n\n“Okay, okay, I won’t do that again. Promise.” I conceded, raising my hands up innocently. “Is that everything?”\n\n“We are willing to forgive, providing you give me your word not to do that again. For any human activity.”\n\n“You have my word.”\n\nMichael looked down once more at his scroll, the golden lettering glittering under the light of his halo.\n\n“You also interfered with the casting of a 1980s sci-fi television show, Star Trek?”\n\nI sighed. “Did you see it Mike?”\n\n“I did not – although I admit I don’t watch enough science fiction.”\n\n“It had to be done, I couldn’t tolerate Wes Crusher anymore. How can a kid outsmart Piccard? I mean, it’s Jean-Luc Piccard! The hero!”\n\n“That doesn’t seem like a sufficient enough reason to interfere, Lucy. You altered the path of a young boys career.” groaned Michael. “You also gifted the character William T. Riker a beard after the first season?”\n\n“I have no regrets.”\n\n“Did you take his soul in exchange?”\n\n“That beard was on the house… and I’d do it again.” I added.\n\nMichael laughed gently.\n\n“The last thing, and probably the most important Lucy.”\n\n“Go on.” I urged him.\n\n“You gave financial advice to a television broadcasting agency that led to the cancelation of the hit cult series Firefly.”\n\n“I know, but not directly! I only advised them to back higher rated shows for the health of their station, I didn’t realise what I was doing at the time!” I admitted.\n\n“Lucy, me and the boys loved Firefly. Some people have been denying your ascendance based purely on that.” Michael looked genuinely hurt.\n\n“Hey! Hold on. I helped fund the film didn’t I? I tried to rectify my mistakes.”\n\n“One film, for what could have been an incredibly long mutli-series run?” asked Michael, his eyebrows arching quizzically. “How did you pay for the film?”\n\nI looked down at my hands shamefully. “I stole the money.”\n\n“You stole the money?” bawked Michael. “You are aware that most of their societies revolve around money?”\n\n“Yes, yes I do.” I said, laying my head flat to the table.\n\n“From whom did you steal?”\n\n“I skimmed some cash from Western Banks.” I spoke into the table.\n\n“Didn’t they recently have a financial crisis in the west?” Michael speculated.\n\n“Not because of that.” I said innocently, lifting my head.\n\n“Well, do you think it helped matters?” he asked.\n\n“The movie was so good Mike, didn’t you see it?” I replied, with a cheeky smile. “I saw that you gave it a 9 on imdb.”\n\n“It was a great movie, but you’re missing the point here Lucy.” he said.\n\n“It was worth it Mike.” I retorted, without skipping a beat.\n\n“Two wrongs don’t make a right. Our brother Gabriel coins that phrase quite often.”\n\n“I know, I had to play racquetball with the guy for years. He neeeeeeever stopped saying it.”\n\n“Lucy, I’m not sure your promises are genuine, we have all condemned your actions.”\n\n“We both know we were necessary.”\n\nMichael paused.\n\n“I’ll consult the others and let you know our decision in the coming weeks.”\n\n“Put in a good word for me, Mike.” I said, nudging him on the shoulder as I rose from the chair. “At least I’m not throwing out plagues left, right and centre as I used to do.”\n\n“I’ll see you at the next review, Lucifer.”\n"
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You can travel fowards backwards and between timelines.
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[WP] You and your friends make a 5th demensional travel machime as a joke, but it turns out to be real
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"I finished colouring in the last mark on the side of the box and leant back to admire my handiwork.\n\n\"Does that look right?\" I said. My friend Zeke and I sat opposite a decorated cardboard box. It was Zeke's idea to do this. He said he'd been reading around online and found instructions to create a 5th dimensional time travelling machine, you just needed a box that could be sealed and a sharpie for the symbols. The stories that people had responded to the thread with ranged from nothing happened to the hilarious to the obscene.\n\nZeke looked from his phone to the box and back again several times.\n\n\"Yeah, that looks right. This is so dumb.\" He laughed.\n\nI closed both ends of the box and shook it. It was a shoe box previously, but now it was supposedly... what? The silent box was just as empty as it had been to begin with.\n\n\"OK, now you have to visualise the time and place you want the box to appear in while holding it with two hands.\"\n\nI smirked briefly then made a mock serious face holding the box as instructed.\n\nI imagined the dinner table of a viking feast, the image of Ragnar Lodbrok laughing and holding a cup.\n\nI immediately dropped the box in shock as it had unexpectedly became heavy and it fell to the ground with a thud.\nZeke's jaw dropped and we sat stunned staring at the box. \n\n\"What the fuck?\" I said.\n\nZeke reached forward and knocked the lid off the box.\n\nThe smell of alcohol and meat wafted out. A leg of meat, a small loaf of bread with a bite missing and a spilt cup of some liquid were in the box. \n\n\"We're gonna need a bigger box.\" I said, a grin spreading across my face."
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[WP] Reincarnation is a proven fact. Because of this people close to you, who feel like they've been born less fortunate, are considering to commit suicide in what is essentially a slot machine like chance to be reborn as a more attractive and/or wealthier person
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"\"I just wish she'd stop. My heart breaks a little more every time I have to look her in the eye.\"\n\nThe slouching man before me removed the remains of a cigarette from his mouth and crushed it on the ashtray between us. Though there was dirt caked underneath his yellowing nails, his hands were the cleanest they'd been in a month. He snuck a glance at the door across the room, but his baggy and dark eyes did not linger. It was painful to look at him for too long, too.\n\n\"You know, Rich,\" he started, seeming to lose his place immediately. \"Oh yeah. I'm worried about her, too. But y'know, everyone has their own way of coping with these things. It's sure not easy, don't get me wrong, but I think it could be worse.\" \n\n\"Then how do I cope?\" I asked. \n\n\"I don't really know. You're out of the house everyday, and you bust your ass so hard for us... I appreciate that, you know. Maybe that's it. Stubbornness, I guess? 'Cause I know it's not like you pride yourself on being an expert or the best or something.\n\n\"But me,\" he continued, \"I've got smoking, I guess. And I had coins before we had to sell 'em.\"\n\n\"Yeah. And Julie's got...\" \n\nI couldn't finish the sentence. I looked over at the door. Peeling paint on a slab of wood, held in place by two working hinges and the resentment she was feeling. In that moment, I imagined that her joints were all stuck and she was probably shooting up the last of her dope. That wasn't the woman I grew up with anymore.\n\n\"Hey Rich?\"\n\n\"Yeah Eric?\"\n\n\"You know how that stuff about coming back after death is all in the news right now? I mean, if it's true, do you think there's a chance that we'd be able to come back and get a better life? A whole new start?\" He looked me straight in the eyes.\n\n\"Eric... man... I guess it'd make sense, yeah, but would it be worth it? You just said yourself that things could be worse. Besides, how do you know that we'd even find each other?\" While a bit upset with him for asking, I understood quite clearly how he felt. \"I don't think you keep your memories of this life, either, so you'd lose who you are.\"\n\n\"You have a point there,\" he conceded.\n\nAfter maybe an hour of sitting at the table, avoiding eye contact with one another or the door, I scooted my chair back. An especially long day of work led my legs to refuse my demands, but I managed to make my way toward the door to Julie's room. Eric stood as well.\n\n\"I'll come with you. I wanna see how she's doing,\" he explained.\n\nA smile parted the stubble sitting on my face. We'd both try to make things right with Julie. After a couple knocks, we let ourselves into her room, and foul-tasting, acidic vomit nearly escaped my mouth. Eric's stomach was not as strong. Between the dry-gagging and sobs in the following few minutes, my family was closer than ever. Taking care not to touch her, I pulled a crumpled wad of paper from her right hand. Eric clung to her lifeless body. My heart sank upon smoothing out what I found to be a letter.\n\n\"Eric...\"\n\n\"Y-yeah...?\" was all the inconsolable 40-year old could manage.\n\n\"You... you know what we were talking about earlier? I think she beat us to it.\"",
"\"I've decided I'm going to kill myself.\" \n\nThe way he said spoke volumes about his, and my character. I didn't say, \"Why?\" or \"Don't.\" I said, \"Can I have your iPod?\"\n\n\"Sure. It's a piece of junk anyway.\" \n\nAs he started talking about what he would need, I started to drift off. That fabulous wealth of Beatles and John Lennon would be all mine.\" \n\n\"So can you bring the razor over now?\" \n\n\"What? Oh, yeah, sure. I'll be right there.\" \n\nI grabbed what I remembered, the razors, the tarp, and drove over to my friend's house. He answered the door promptly. He looked like how he told me he felt, with dark circles under his eyes, five o'clock shadow, and a complete lack of joy in his slouch and stare. He led me inside. \"Coffee?\" I shook my head. \"I'm here to help you. Let's go, before I lose my nerve.\" He shrugged. \"Okay. But after, feel free to help yourself. It'll all go bad anyway.\" \n\nWe went into the bathroom. I set up the tarp and my friend disrobed. He lay down in the bathtub, and I handed him the razor blade. He stared at it. Even in the darkness, the moonlight coming through the tiny window turned its' blade into a white line, a glittering jewel set in a band wrapped around the unforgiving finger of death. He hesitated. I did too. Luckily, we had come prepared. I reached into my bag and pulled out the other thing I had brought. A bottle of Jack Daniels. \"Here.\" He nodded gratefully, and took a swig. He drank some, but then he looked at me. \"I'm sorry, do you want some?\" \n\n\"Maybe just a sip.\" \n\nAn hour we had polished off the bottle, and were quite drunk. I asked him if he was ready to do it, and he said he wasn't drunk yet. So he put his bathrobe back on and we raided the liquor cabinet. Half a bottle of Tequila later, I blacked out. \n\nI woke up in a strange place. I was naked, lying on a piece of cold stone that stretched all the way to the horizon. I stood, pulling my body away from the cold stone. Above me the sky was nothing but grey fog, and there was nothing around me. I called out. \"Hello? Is anyone there?\" And all at once, there was. I heard the pounding of horse hooves echoing through the fog. I turned to see a radiant figure made of light galloping toward me on a horse made of stars. Light blazed off the figure, turning the gray fog into a silver ocean overhead. They charged forward, bathing me in light and color. The light grew brighter and brighter, warming me to the bone. By the time they were within twenty feet, I had to clamp my eyes shut. I was immensely hot, and the stone around my feet had turned searing. \"James Marston,\" the figure said. It's voice echoed from everywhere, resounding like a gong in a narrow tunnel. I quailed, backing away from the figure. \"Y-Yes,\" I whispered. \"I am the Rex Regum, the Lord of the Cosmos. I am here to judge you. You are charged with selfishness, sloth, disrespect, and murder. How do you plead?\"\n \n\"Murder?\"\n\n\"Yes, Murder. You heard correctly.\" \n\n\"But that's impossible. I never killed anyone,\" I started to say. \n\n**\"ARE YOU QUESTIONING MY AUTHORITY?\"**\n\nI cowered, kneeling on the burning stone. The Rex Regum's horse stamped it's hooves impatiently as he spoke. \"I see all, know all. You tried to help your friend kill himself. All life is precious, so by helping him destroy himself, you have committed the sin of working to take a life. Murder.\" I had no response to that, and I was too scared. So I merely pressed my forehead to the ground in an attempt to placate it. \n\n\"As I thought. I pronounce you guilty. Now, for your rebirth.\" \n\nI looked up. Of course. What would I be? A fly? A dung beetle?\n\n\"As you are a murderer, you are not fit to be a human. Even the lowest beast of the earth has more honor than you. Thus, I sentence you to Sañjīva.\" Rex Regum glared down at me, but even though I couldn't see his face, I could hear the disgust in his voice.\n\n\"Sañjīva?\"\n\nHe spat on the ground. \"It is an awful place. You will be born, fully grown, with iron claws grafted to your hands. You will then be hurled into a place of constant fire and woe. Every murderer you encounter will try to kill you, unless you kill them. Then the guards of that realm with attack you with weapons made of fire. you will be forced to wander forever, as the iron ground is so hot it will char you to ash. Then, once you die, you will reanimate and the whole process will start all over again.\"\n\nI started to cry. \n\nRex Regum's voice now carried a hint of sadness. \"Do not fear, James Marston. You will only have to be there until you balance your karma. Then you can die and be reborn again. And since your crime is relatively minor, you will only have to spend one trillion, six hundred and twenty billion years there.\" \n\nAs tears started running down my face, I noticed the stone cooling. I looked up to see Rex Regum riding away. As he did, the stone beneath my feet began shaking. A huge gate made of molten steel suddenly burst up, smashing through the stone in front of me. The gate swung open, revealing a swirling vortex of blood and molten steel, unleashing upon me the heat of a blast furnace and the light of an atomic bomb detonating in my face. \n\n\"If it's any consolation, I'm sorry it had to be this way.\" Rex Regum called over his shoulder. A barbed spear flew out of the vortex and impaled me through the stomach. It was connected to the vortex by a barbed chain, and looking through the miasma, I could see a dozen red skinned horrors holding similar spears. The one who had already impaled me clutched the chain connected to the one sticking through my stomach. The horror yanked, and I was pulled in. \n\n\n\n\n",
"It was 3:30 AM. Still awake, I was wrestling with the fact of my existence. With reincarnation now proven, I could not come to grips with how fortunate I was. To be born a human out of all other species was a miracle! The chances were so great that I would end up a simple being, such as a pig wallowing in his own filth, unknowing of its dirtiness. Yet, I was given the gift of sentience, to be able to analyze the world and recognize its beauty. It was a one-in-a-billion chance, and I got it.\n\nTo hell with my credit card debt and crappy job! Why should I suffer over my aunt, diagnosed with terminal cancer? For what reason should I lose hours of sleep over my future? I am a human! And I must enjoy it while I can!\n\nAll of the sudden, my cellphone lit up and sounded its ringtone. Who could it be, wanting to call me at this hour? I wondered. Curious, I picked up my phone to discover that it was my friend, Darius. Still giddy with joy at my existence, I felt no apprehension as I answered.\n\n\"It's over, Jack. I just can't do it anymore.\" Darius moaned over the line.\n\n\"Do what?\" I asked, confused.\n\n\"I killed a man. Tonight, at the bar, I got in a fight. He was so angry! First, just cursing. But then he stood up. And I stood up. And he leapt at me! Oh God... I panicked, Jack. I lost control. I knocked him to the ground and started beating him, punching over and over... I'M A MONSTER, JACK!!!\" His voice cracked on the last word. Emotions coursed through the both of us. I had never expected Darius to break. However, the day had come.\n\n\"Dude, I know you're feeling really messed up right now, but you gotta calm down.\" I said. \"We can get through this.\"\n\n\"No, can't!\" Darius screamed into the phone. \"The guilt, I can't live with it! It follows my every thought. It's in my head!\"\n\n\"Please! Just let me say something!\" I was pleading now.\n\nThe other end of the call was silent, besides a few muffled cries.\n\n\"Look. Reincarnation is real! We've truly been given a gift, being able to live as humans. Yes, you killed a person. But look at the bright side! We're alive! We can feel and see and smell and love and experience and understand! There's so much out there! This is so insignificant compared to what we have! Please just consider it!\" I shouted jubilantly.\n\n\"Oh, I have,\" Darius sneered. \"Even though you paint a pretty picture, I will never be the same. Instead, I will use reincarnation to my advantage. I'll kill myself, right now. And then I'll be reborn, a new being, a new life!\" His voice wavered with sudden joy. My heat grew cold. He had gone mad!\n\n\"I beg you. Just don't do it. You have a family who loves you and cares about you. At the very least, don't do it, for their sake. You must move on.\"\n\nDarius laughed. \"Nope, my mind is set. Finally, a new light is ahead!\" He hung up.\n\n\"Please, please! Damn it!\" I yelled, tears in my eyes. I called 911, but I knew it was already too late. I had lost a good friend today. We had both failed to save a life. All I could do was hope, that Darius had found his place in the world. Yet, I still had control over my life. I then promised myself that I would go into the world and work to honor the lives of those that had given up theirs.\n\n\n\n"
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[WP] Two different groups of people are separated at birth. At the age of eighteen, they meet
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"\"You ever think what we're doing is wrong?\"\n\nJack took a sip of his coffee. \"You kidding? Of course it is! We're experimenting on children, for crying out loud!\"\n\n\"Yeah, but don't you just envy Group B? They get to grow up rich with no responsibilities. Besides, doesn't everyone involved here get a lifetime salary?\"\n\n\"That's right. Group A's gonna need it. You do realize, Tom, that we dropped these kids off into a simulation forest once they were born, deprived them of all outside contact, and never let them have a normal childhood? You do realize they have to hunt and gather to live? These kids are cavemen. If it weren't for the guaranteed 80 grand a year, I would be sueing this whole place out the kazoo!\"\n\n\"I know, man. I started to think this whole thing was messed up when we fed the Group A newborns with donor milk from strangers through an artificial woman.\"\n\n\"Hey, I just realized something. For the past 18 years, we've basically been gods to these kids. We control the weather, the animals, the plants. We could kill them with the push of a button.\"\n\n\"Jeez, man. What are we gonna do once we introduce them to Group B? Those rich pricks are gonna freak out when they see a bunch of mostly-naked people grunting at them.\"\n\n\"I know it's awful of me, but I have something to confess. I actually placed a bet with Trish that Group A would knock out at least five Group B-ers within an hour.\"\n\n\"I- I want to deny that but I can't. Those caveman kids are ripped.\"\n_________________________________________________________________\n\nWhen A-13 woke up, as usual the first to, he did not expect to see the Boulder moved. For the 18 years he lived, he had known two things for certain: Everything that could be moved could be used to find food, and the Boulder was the only thing that could not be moved. What he really did not expect was to see a mass of 20 men and women, all covered with strange materials, and in deep sleep behind where the Boulder used to be.\n\n\"OOOOOAAAHHAOOO!\" he yelled. The morning wake-up cry would be earlier this morning. As soon as they heard his deafening shout, everyone woke immediately. His family soon saw the strange people, and retreated out of fear. \n\nThe strange people had a much stranger reaction. As soon as they glimpsed the family, they shrieked. Most covered their eyes. Many ran around, confused. One looked through the hole where the Boulder used to be, and shouted something. They all ran out. \n\nAs soon as they dispersed out the hole, one of A-13's brothers was brave enough to approach the hole. Amazed, he grunted and gestured for his family to follow him through. \n\nA-13 grabbed one of his sisters who had been injured recently by a spear accident, and brought her with him. He saw that his brother's amazement was well placed, for through the hole was a whole new world.\n_________________________________________________________________\n\nKatie ran swiftly back to her parent's mansion. She was too shocked to process what just happened. One night she went to sleep in her bed, next morning she woke up in the woods because some naked man yelled at the top of his lungs. She of course responded to this with her own scream. She had looked through the passageway she had woke up in, and to her relief had found her town. All of her friends were presumably running back to their own mansions. \n\nUnfortunately, when she got back home, her parents were nowhere to be found. Not in the gardens, not in their bedroom, not in the kitchen. However, when she entered her own room, she found a note. It read simply, \"Goodbye Katie ~ Mom & Dad\"\n\nThis was not good. She knew whenever she was stressed to go down to the fountain in the front yard. So she did. Unfortunate events just seemed to be happening all over the place today, for lying in the fountain she found one of the naked people from before. It was a barely conscious girl, her head propped up on the edge, bleeding from her leg. She turned around immediately, only to see the shocked face of another dirty, naked man. She covered her eyes with her cashmere sleeve. \n\n\"Just leave me alone!\" Katie yelled. The man was taken aback, but stayed put. He grunted, and made sort of a \"Huh?\" sound. \n\n\"You heard me! Take your girlfriend or whatever, and go!\" Katie began to sob as she realized she had absolutely no idea what was going on. Her parents were gone, and well, this. She sat on the edge of the fountain, ignoring the woman, and cried. The man approached her, looking concerned. She slapped him away, but he sat down next to her and gently patted her head. This was too much for her. She half-wanted to stay, but everything in her was telling her to bolt into her door and locked it. She obeyed everything in her. \n_________________________________________________________________\n\nTom and Jack stood in front of an impatient room of scientists, parents, donors, and anyone else involved in this project. \n\n\"Hello, everybody. As you all know, we have been conducting an 18-year experiment, in which newborn children, taken from mothers who intended to put them up for adoption, were placed in 2 groups of 20. Group A was placed in a simulation of a wooded environment, and was taken care of remotely until they became self sufficient at about age 10. Group B-\"\n\n\"Group B,\" Tom interjected, in a little bit of one-upsmanship, not wanting to let his colleague do all the speaking. \"was given to extremely wealthy volunteer parents, who raised the children in a gated community of mansions until adulthood.\"\n\n\"Which is today,\" \"Jack interrupted.\n\n\"Yes, so today, in the conclusion of the closely monitored part of this experiment, we removed the barrier between the children's communities, removed the parents, and relocated Group B to the simulation forest.\"\n\n\"All of you are either parents of the children, or had some part in conducting the experiment. All of you will be entitled to the full results and updates as to how the children interact to each other.\"\n\n\"As well as a payment of 80,000 USD each year for 20 years as compensation for your involvement in this project.\"\n\n\"If my friend Tom would stop interrupting me, I would also like to say that you can get your copies of our observations outside this auditorium after this presentation.. They are being handed out by our amazing assistant researcher Tricia Goldstein.\"\n\n\"The following presentation will involve current feed of the communities, as well as our own notes. Please enjoy.\""
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[WP] The Chosen One is being trained. You're ready to go. You decide to ignore the prophecy. He stole your lunch money. That bastard is going down.
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"I always knew Ben would be the Chosen One, the one foretold by the graffiti in the bathroom to be the savior who freed us from the shackles of mandatory homework and cooties. Still, you ask, why did I do it to such a person? \n\n*The boy chuckles* \n\nYour precious hero was nowhere near as pure as he pretends to be. How could our paragon, the man who supposedly frees us from such tyranny, have perfect grades, simultaneously play seven sports and somehow have enough time for three gold-digger girlfriends? \n\n*The boy leans forward, eyes glittering in anger*\n\nI’ll tell you how. He runs a vast spider-web of criminal activity, running from kindergarten up to the twelve year olds. He hires bashers, older bullies who attack anyone who fails to pay their protection fees. He charges ‘parking fees’ for anyone who stays on the playground for more than ten minutes. I myself fell victim to one of his bashers stealing my lunch money when they somehow broke into my locker. \n\nHe has quickly amassed a massive fortune of hundreds of dollars, which he uses to acquire more Nerds and other candies. He then sells them at a high mark-up to desperate students who want to avoid the barely-edible ‘health food’ from the cafeteria. He also uses the money to pay the smarter students to do his homework for him, and has somehow managed to insert his lackeys under his name in sports events. \n\nNobody could take him on, lest they incur the wrath of his underlings, except me. I reached my breaking point when he made a move on my girlfriend. We’d barely even kissed, yet I already knew our love would last forever.\n\n*The boy laughs bitterly*\n\nI was a fool. Ben took an interest in her. She refused his advances, although now I wish she hadn’t. Unused to rejection, Ben decided to make an example of her. A surprise inspection was conducted on her locker by a police officer one day, who I later found out was tipped off by an anonymous caller. Inside, the police officer found a razor blade with dried blood on it. Her parents were quickly called, and they whisked her off to a rehabilitation center in another state. I would never see her again. \n\n*The boy leans backwards*\n\nThat was the start. I knew immediately who had done it. The idiot wouldn’t stop bragging about it, perhaps hoping that it would serve as an example to strengthen his regime. Instead it created his nemesis. It won’t bore you with the details, but I slowly began to uncover his entire operation. Once I understood it in its entirety, I merely had to wait for the opportunity to strike. \n\nThe opportunity came five months later. I heard a rumour from one of my moles that Ben had managed to get a leadership position for the school fete, and would be in the school papers when he presented his new project, a beautiful painting made by an art student who was more than happy for $50. \n\nI knew what I had to do, and I didn’t care how low I had to go to make that bastard suffer. I contacted one of my brother’s friends, a known drug dealer, and asked him for a sample. That night, I snuck the sample into the blazer he would be wearing on the day. I knew he’d leave it lying in his hiding spot around the school, where he thought it safe. His mistake.\n\n*The boy smiles again*\n\nIt was beautiful. Everyone lined up, cameras at the ready. He revealed the painting with a flourish. Something else also came out of his blazer with a flourish. The media went wild. The headlines printed themselves: “Genius student caught with drug samples”. He was disgraced. His power shattered. No matter what happened after, I knew that I’d won. His parents sent him to a reform school, and you somehow caught on to all this. \n\n*The boy looks me in the eye*\n\nDo you honestly think anyone will believe you? That a 10 year old boy did this? No, so just close that book and leave it alone. \n\nSo I did. \n"
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If you kill someone who has racked up eg. 10 days, you will get all of that persons days, and not just one extra day.
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[WP] Every person on Earth has one day to live. Killing another person will give you their day in addition to yours.
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"It's been 11 days and I've killed 11 people on purpose and one on accident. \n\nJulia and I are driving here and then there and back to where people frequent. 17 days ago the Cosmic Unknown of 2019 took control (its what we've been calling it in the States), and for once the American public could agree that our days were truly numbered. We are a bunch of desert beasts breaking necks to drink a raindrop in middle of America. Wet, hot mouths open for a taste of the Numberless Man.\n\nIt's a bit of a myth. There's a whisper in the alley that a Minnesota gent has powers; a suggestion between confidants that a man has been collecting people day after day just to harvest their time. So many rumors in the world can manifest and pulsate, yet the Numberless Man is none of these things. \n\nDean Shackle, a Mormon man with countless wives and children, created a community in Minnesota where his family could worship and create a foundation for future soldiers of God. But like every other person up their own ass, when God ceased to give a fuck about our marble on the floor of his room, Dean turned his cheek. Moving past the tragedy of living without God in a world where people die exponentially more as they used too, Dean locked his family in the church, burned them alive and gained at least a fifty \"1UPS\" from the start.\n\nI'm going to kill Dean and it's going to be today. \n\n\"Up ahead, two, barely clothed.\" Julia's all demeanor and no substance. \"If we stop the car here, we can catch them on foot when they book it.\"\n\n\"Sounds like a plan.\" The two almost naked bodies are sunburned and bloody, bumbling back and forth over the median in the road. It takes no time to catch up to them. They aren't breathing heavy when we push them to the ground. \"How many lives?\" Julia asks.\n\n\"5\" says one.\n\n\"1\" says the other. \n\n\"Nick, you take #5...\" Julia is interrupted by a gun to the back of her throat.\n\n\"Peep the bar codes on their arms...ever been someones property?\" says the stranger. \"These aren't the first and will definitely not be the last in my stock. Now turn around.\"\n\nJulia and I turn around to see a man with a pale cloth on his face, brazened by a blackened upside down cross across the center. In his hand is a pistol, and in his company are 5 more bar coded meatbags.\n\n\"Now,\" speaks the stranger \"if you were looking for the Numberless Man, you've found him. Everyone is doing it, it's all the rage.\" The Numberless man kicks Julia to the ground. \"It's your turn to rank up, pal,\" handing me a pipe as he speaks at Julia \"time to buy the farm.\"\n\nThe gun is now pointed at me.\n\n\"How many, sweety? 3, 4?\" says the Numberless man\n\n\"31.\"\n\n\"Well, Nick, that adds to your one to grow on!\"\n\nThe gun is the hot silver in the sunlight, and I only needed a few swings.\n\nLike I said it's been 11 days and I've killed 11 people on purpose and one on accident. \n",
"\"The Games,\" that was what everyone called them. Not that it mattered that they were actually a consequence of the Immoral Experimentation act of 2016. Not that anything mattered anymore, except staying alive. *Dammit*! One million people chosen, less than 1% of the population and one of them had to be *me*! It was supposed to test \"Human reactions to artificially engineered stressful situations,\" but that was a load of bullshit. The reason they did it was so they could make a TV show (\"Degrees of empathic reaction to video\") and make a shitload of money. But what did all that matter to me? I was gently commandeered (read: forced) into signing the waiver and getting the injection. It was a nanobot that, when it detected that my time was up, would release a powerful electric shock comparable to that of an electric chair, then roughly dropped into the simulated playground. Damn Immoral Experimentation Act. That was three months ago. In that time I successfully managed to make three close friends, and we were all sure of each other. The dial always draws my attention to it at the oddest of times. It's a little holographic display generated, I assume, by the injection, that tells me how much time I have left. Each person I kill adds a day to it, more if I'm lucky. Thankfully (for me) they haven't gamified this thing to such an extent that there's a scoreboard with everyone's kill count and remaining time. We all know that if we're the only four survivors, we'll have to fight each other, and that saddens me. But only slightly. The nature of our friendship was one of necessity, not one of commitment. As a matter of fact, once the amount of remaining people (also present on the dial) was low enough, I planned on double-crossing all of them. I imagine they had similar plans. But they wouldn't succeed. They couldn't. *I* had to survive. I *was* the survivor. And *nobody* could stop me.\n\n \n\n\"Anne?\" Sarah groaned, \"I don't feel so good.\"\n\n\"No you don't, do you.\" A smile played over my lips, and the knife in my pocket seemed to dance. It would be so easy. I could even play it off as a hostile invasion. Just throw it in from a couple hundred yards away. No one would know. \"Wait!\" she yelled, as loudly as she could in her current state.\n\n\"I'm sorry.\" I said. It was the least I could do for her. My heart felt like it was going on a roller coaster. I was breathing hard. And...I hadn't even done anything yet. The injection? It was the bloody injection. Thinking it could release *stress chemicals* into my head? Just who did it think it was!?! And then, suddenly, it was all over. A slight prick in the back of the spine. \"Nick?\" I managed, then it was all gone. The darkness closed in from the edges, leaving just Nick's face in the middle. Not him. It couldn't be him. It wasn't him. *I* was the survivor. Not Nick. Not fucking Nick. My last feeling was of hatred, and a red dot of nothingness appeared at the center of my vision, and then a strange feeling came over me. It was a feeling of physical detachment, not dissimilar to numbness, although it also applied to the rest of the senses. And then, finally, it spreads to my thoughs to./sdkjac?];",
"We're supposed to keep track of our days, but I never do. It distracts me. It makes me a target. I'm not sure how many days I'm at now, but if people knew, I doubt I'd be around for long. I don't need to remember how many days I have, just that I need to take at least one per day to stay alive. Just one more day.\n\nThe air is hot and heavy today. Kyrren pressures us to keep hunting and walks ahead, leaving me and Rhodes behind. Rhodes speaks up to stop him, \"We won't be very good shots if we're dying of heat stroke in the meantime.\" \n\nKyrren stops. \"We won't be very good shots if we're dead either! Each day without a kill only brings us closer, Rhodes,\" He turns around now, and paces back to where we are standing, his tree trunk legs shaking the whole city block. \"Do you want to lose another day? For God's sake Rhodes, we only have one left.\"\n\nRhodes looks down at his bracelet, one lonely charm hanging from his wrist. \"Kyrren, I'm sure we ca-\"\n\n\"Will you shut the fuck up Rhodes?\" Kyrren's booming voice left my friend speechless. We were left alone yet again, as Kyrren stomped back towards the opposite end of the street. \n\n\"One more day,\" I grunt to Rhodes, trying to motivate him as we begin following Kyrren to our next kills. He replies shyly but surely, \"Right, one more day.\"\n\nKyrren disappears around a building, so we try to hurry our pace. The sun is starting to hide behind the skyscrapers, and center city is not where we want to camp for the night. The city of Philadelphia was one of the first to erupt into chaos when the event started. Brotherly Love swiftly morphed into Brotherly Betrayal, and now the city looks barren and aged. Abandoned cars clog all the roads, while grass and weeds reclaim the land and invite animals to come and play in the streets. Thankfully though, food hasn't been much of a problem since Mother Nature became mayor. \n\nWe turn the corner at Broad Street, tracking Kyrren's footsteps and trying our best to stay silent. The city is a great place to take cover, but is also home to more groups, looking to add to their days. Kyrren and Rhodes are on their last day, but I know I have much more.\n\nRhodes spots Kyrren kneeling right outside a window to a small apartment. There is candlelight flickering out onto the cars in the street, but there's no movement inside, as far as I could tell. We crawl over to Kyrren, weaving between the cars and staying out of sight. \n\n\"There are four of them,\" Kyrren whispers. \"I think it's two kids and two adults.\" He loads a bolt in his crossbow, and unsheathes his knife. \n\n\"Do they have weapons?\" I whisper. Kyrren nods, and says \"I couldn't get a good view, but it looks li-\" \n\nHis voice is cut short, as he pushes both of our heads down. The window above us opens, and the barrel of a rifle hovers just inches away. The three of us huddle close together under the window, our backs pressed into the brick wall of the apartment. A male voice calls out.\n\n\"Who is out there? I heard your voices, I know someone is there!\"\n\nSilence. This silence seems to go on forever. Rhodes is struggling to hold his breath. I almost want to strangle him, so he would stop shaking. Kyrren has look of desperation on his face that I have never seen before. The barrel is still there, hovering, but is shaking now. I look at Kyrren, and he seems to notice it too. We share eye contact, and for the first time, I think I understand Kyrren. He gives me a slight nod, and I know exactly what he is saying. \n\nAs fast as I can, I reach up and hold onto the barrel as tight as I can with both hands. The man fires off a shot in surprise, and I feel my ears ring. Rhodes screams, but I cannot hear him. I cannot hear anything. All I hear is that familiar high pitch. I pull down furiously, but he is strong. The rifle jerks up hard, and I come with it. I am pulled to my feet as my hands slip from the gun. I turn around quickly to grab the gun again, but I freeze. \n\nThe man holds his rifle confidently. His bearded cheek is pressed against the gun, and I see his eyes through the sights. Wrinkles have started to climb across his face, and a wintery gray has just begun to appear in his hair. He is wearing a white turtleneck underneath a dark green Eagles jersey, and a trucker's cap so worn, I almost didn't notice the USMC logo on the front of it. Behind him, two pairs of young eyes peer around the corner from the kitchen to watch Daddy point his gun at me. His left hand steadies the end of the rifle, and I notice the bracelet he is wearing. A thin silver wristband with a single charm hanging from it. My eyes are drawn towards his right hand just in time to see his finger curl around the trigger. Then he stops. \n\nI look up into this man's eyes to ask why he hasn't shot me yet. It takes me quite some time to notice the arrow sticking out of his cheekbone. Empty eyes meet mine as this man falls in front of me.\n\nThe little girls in the kitchen screech when they see their father collapse to the floor. They sprint as fast as they could up the staircase to safety. Kyrren loads another arrow into his crossbow and hops through the window into the living room of the apartment. Rhodes and I follow close behind. Rhodes starts to chase after the girls upstairs, while Kyrren and I clear the ground floor. Kyrren comes out of the kitchen and tells me that it's all clear. \n\nI begin to turn up the stairs, when I hear a loud bang from the kitchen. I look back and Kyrren is on the floor. A tall, thin woman emerges from the kitchen with a small revolver. Tears running down her face and sobbing, she lets out a horrible scream, \"Don't touch my daughters!\" She points the gun at me at me and shoots. The wall behind me takes the bullet instead. I decide to charge, as I hear her fire one more shot. Another miss. I tackle her to the ground and slip my knife under her chin up into her skull. Her body goes limp. One more day.\n\nI immediately rush to Kyrren's side. He moans and sits up, squeezing his left shoulder in pain. \"Bitch shot me!\" he yelled, \"Came out from under the table, I thought it was clear!\" \n\n\"It's okay,\" I reassure him, \"She's gone.\"\n\n\"This still fucking hurts, I can't use my crossbow anym-\" \n\n\"Look, Kyrren, do you want me to just put you down?\" I am getting frustrated with him now. \"Let's go get Rhodes.\" I help him up, and he give me his crossbow to wield. \n\nI lead the way up the stairs into the darkness, Kyrren right behind me. The sun has been set for some time now, and the second floor feels like a cave. I turn on my flashlight, which pierces the darkness like a spear. \n\nThe first room at the top of the stairs is empty. Storage, probably. The second room is at the other end of the hallway, its door swung open into the hall. \n\n\"Rhodes?\" Kyrren calls out to our partner. No answer. Just silence. The second room was a bedroom, but was also fairly empty. Two beds lined each side of the room, and an open window invited a cool breeze to meet us. On the window sill was a torn piece of clothing, and scuff marks leading out onto the roof outside. \n\n\"Looks like they escaped,\" Kyrren noted. He was probably right. We go back toward the third door in the hallway, hoping Rhodes is in there somehow.\n\nKyrren pulls back the third door and I aim the flashlight and crossbow into the room. A bed greets me from the other side of the room, and I notice Rhodes huddled in the corner by himself. I rush to him as Kyrren stands in the hall and watches the doorway. \n\n\"Rhodes! Buddy, you there? Rhodes talk to me.\" In his stomach, there is a large stab wound, and blood soaking through his shirt and pants, into the floor. \n\n\"Hey,\" he manages to whisper. \n\n\"Rhodes! Buddy, you're here,\" I whisper back. \n\n\"She got me man, she got me good.\" \n\n\"I know, I know,\" I start to smile, \"but you got her right?\"\n\nHe didn't answer. Then it hit me. \"Oh Rhodes, no, come on. No you can't go like this\"\n\n\"It's okay, I'm ready. It's almost midnight, I know, but I'm ready to say goodbye.\" Tears were in his eyes now. \n\nI check my watch. Five minutes left. We look at each other for a moment, and I give him the biggest hug I can muster. I don't want him to see me cry. We've been at it for as long as I can remember, and he's always been close to me. \n\n\"Goodbye, Rhodes.\" I say, choking up now. \n\nI feel a sharp pain in my neck, then a bit of wetness on my shoulder. I pull away, but Rhodes is still holding me. I struggle to breath now, and feel a twisting in my throat. I'm on my back now, looking up at Rhodes as he plunges his knife deeper into my neck. \n\n\"Goodbye to you too,\" I hear, as my vision fades to white.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n"
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[WP] A man wakes up in a world operating on porn logic but is too oblivious to notice.
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"Bill woke up just like any other day, he got dressed like any other day, and he left for work like any other day. But this day in particular was different, even though Bill was too dense to notice. He drove to work and notice a woman on the side of the road next to a broken down car. He stopped to help her. He may be late for work, but he wasn't the type to pass up a soul in need.\n\n\"Do you need any help, Miss?\" Bill asked the woman. He had a smile on her face when she looked at him. Her volumptuous body standing close to Bill's toned arms and muscled torso.\n\n\"Yeah, my car broke down. I was hoping a big, strong man like you would show up to give me a hand.\" She walked over to the front of the car, bending over the bumper, causing her shorts to ride up. \"I think it's this thing.\"\n\nBill took a look, he was a skilled man and instantly spotted the issue. \"Yep, your radiator hose has a tear in it. I have some duct tape in my tool box, could you grab it for me?\"\n\nThe woman jogged to Bill's car, making her flesh jiggle with each step and returned holding a roll of tape against her jean shorts. \"Is this it?\" She asked making a face at Bill.\n\n\"Why, yes, it is. Thank you, Miss.\" Bill responded, taking the tape, careful not to touch the woman. Afterall, Bill did not want to make her uncomfortable or uneasy. Bill swiftly repaird the hose and made his way back to his car.\n\n\"But wait! I need to repay you somehow!\" the woman said, putting her arms behind her back and making her chest stick out.\n\n\"Don't worry about it, Miss. I'm happy to help.\"\n\nBill showed up late to his job again, afraid his boss would fire him this time. As he turned the corner to clock in, the manager blocked the doorway, putting her hand on Bill's chest to stop him, \"Oh, not so fast there, Bill. You're late again, you need to be punished for this.\"\n\n\"What are you doing?\" Bill askes his boss, pulling her hand off his chest and shoving it into her breast partly exposed by a low buttoned blouse. \"You should never put hands on a subordinate! I apologize for being late, but that was uncalled for!\"\n\nBill clocked in and took his first delivery for the day, which would likely be his only delivery, as it was all the way across town. After arriving at the house, another large breasted woman answered wearing only a towel. \"I have your pizza ma'am. Large deep-dish with extra sausage?\"\n\n\"Oh, why, yes. It is. Wouldn't you come inside and help me set this *large package* down?\"\n\n\"I'm sorry, Miss, but it's against store policy to enter a customer's home.\"\n\n\"Oh, that's okay, I think I can handle it all on my own.\"\n\nThe woman took the box, and a she did, her towel dropped, exposing her body to Bill. And Bill, being the gentleman that he is, immediately averted his eyes. \"Oops, that wasn't supposed to happen,\" the woman said while placing down the pizza box, not even bothering to cover up.\n\n\"That's alright, Miss, accidents happen.\"\n\n\"Now. About your *tip*...\"\n\n\"Don't worry, Miss. I'm sure this must be embarassing enough. I'll cover the price of the pizza and be on my way.\"\n\nThe woman tried to flag down Bill, \"But wait, my plumbing is having issues! Are you sure you can't snake my drain?\" But alas, Bill knew nothing about plumbing and could not help this woman.\n\nThe day went on, Bill helped many a pretty woman on this day. From strangers, to past loves, to former teachers. Bill took time out of his day to help each one. And at the end of it all, Bill went home to rest. He went to bed content, satisfied that he did his duty as a good samaritan to help his fellow man.\n\n"
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[WP] You live alone with your parrot. It just said something you don't remember telling it.
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"I love teaching Petey how to say new words and phrases. I mean, why else would I get a damn parrot? The only reason I even have Petey is because I lost a major sports bet to a buddy. I, per the usual routine, made the bet highly intoxicated. I mean like, mouth salivating after a warm tequila shot, I need to run to the bathroom kind of intoxicated. Anyways, as you can tell, I ended up with a pet Parakeet.\n\nEvery morning my alarm clock plays the best song of the 90's, \"Wonder Wall\" by Oasis. Yes, I know. I am a genius and I bet no one has ever started their day off, EVERYDAY, without fail to \"Wonder Wall\". Petey gradually caught on to my morning ritual and decided one magnificent morning that he would pitch in on a little Oasis/Petey harmony action. It was as smooth as silk, like butter being spread on a sweet baguette. But it was from a parrot, so imagine eating all that beautiful buttered up silk, while lying on a smooth baguette but with a parrot. \n\n\"You're my wonder...\" Oasis sings with their heavenly voices.\n\nPetey screeches, \"WALLLL, WALLLL\"\n\nIt truly is an enjoyable way to start my day. There aren't many days that I won't wake up with a childish grin on my face. But something happened yesterday and it shivered me to my core. \n\nPetey missed his cue! He just missed the damn thing completely!\n\nI hopped out of bed, half awake and feeling a little loopy from the night before. I ran over to Petey's cage. Why didn't my Petey rock the mic this morning? There's no way he can treat this like a third rate morning ritual. \n\nPetey looked at me, obviously sad he blew it for his master. He then proceeded to pick his feathers a little bit, ate a little bird food and drank some water with his big black beak. Then, he looked at me again and let out something my mind will never be able to block.\n\n\"Butta yo bread\" he squawked\n\nHow? How could Petey tell me to butter my bread? I just wouldn't allow that, not in this household. I angrily grabbed the cage and ran out my apartment door. I stormed to the local Pet store to have a few words with the manager. Actually, I didn't talk much. I just took Petey back and simply stated this bird had malfunctioned. \n\nI won that argument. I sent worthless, lack of work ethic, not giving a care about my morning ritual little ole Petey back to the man. \n\nBut I didn't leave empty handed. I got myself a calico cat.",
"\"Good morning, Percy.\"\n\"Squawk! Good morning, Percy!\"\nYes, we have the same name. It proved impossible to name him something else. But he was a good bird. And beautiful too. Green and red feathers with a golden beak. I lived alone with this bird and we had many conversations. Some were normal, some kind of weird. But he was a good listener. And he constantly reminded me of all the advice that I had recited to him. Things like: \"Wash your hands before you eat!\" and \"See a penny, pick it up. Then all day you'll have good luck!\" \nI rarely left the house, and I had no visitors, so this bird was my only companion. And that's the way I liked it. He was polite because I had taught him to be. So we got along well. But one morning, things took a different turn. The usual early morning conversation started out as normal as any other.\n\"Good morning, Percy.\"\n\"Squawk! Good morning, Percy!\"\n\"How are you this morning?\"\n\"Good, sir. How are you this morning?\"\n\"Good, sir. What should we do today?\" I asked him.\n\"Let's have a party! Squawk!\"\n\"We had a party yesterday.\"\n\"Let's have a party! Squawk!\"\n\"Okay. Okay.\" I conceded. \"Let's have a party.\"\n\"Thank you. Thank you, sir.\"\nThen something came out of that beak that I had never heard nor spoken before. \"Did you know you're going to die today?\"\n\"What?!\" I was shocked. How did he hear that. He was only ever around me and I had certainly never said that!\n\"Let's have a party! Squawk!\"\n\"I'm going to die today?\" I asked him.\n\"I'm going to die today?\" he asked me back.\nNo, no, no... this couldn't be happening. How had he heard those words? What I didn't notice was the man who had started creeping out of the closet behind me.",
"I couldn't believe my eyes. My parrot just said \"Just like that baby\", clear as a bright, sunny day. \n\nYou may be wondering why this would be so scary for me. Parrots can say any thing they want, right? Yes but the one rule about parrots is that they can only say what you say to them first....and I never said that. \n\nI looked right at my parrot...Jimbo. He looked the same as usual. He looked at me, then looked at the ground and then he flew up onto the fridge. \"Maybe I was just hallucinating\" I was thinking...but then he said it again! \"Just like that baby\". My body broke out in cold shivers. \n\nTo my mind, there were 2 possibilities. 1: I had an intruder in my house, who had been coming here for a while and he said this to the parrot. But I didn't think this was possible because I would have seen an intruder breaking in my house. The other possibility was that this parrot was posessed or that something scary was going on. My body shivered violently at these thoughts like it was frozen. \n\nI took a step a way from Jimbo. He was on the fridge and then like he was posessed, he put his head on the wall. What the heck? I decided that even if some thing weird was going on, I had to find out. I crept closer and my whole body was shaking. Jimbo's head was on the wall with his ear right up against it. I kept myself a way but did the same position. \n\nI could hear next door 2 people were having sex. I felt like a giant wave of relief had ran over me. They were making the typical sounds of sex. So Jimbo must have put his ear right here and heard the neighbors making these sounds. They probably said \"Just like that baby\". That's why Jimbo said it. \n\nAnd then I heard something that chilled me right to my bones. the neighbors were talking instead of making sounds now...but they were speaking Spanish!\n\n* thank you. This is my 2nd story for prompts. Please leave comments on what you think. I will write 1 story every week for prompts. \n ",
"\"SQUAAWWKKK July 8 2016\"\n\n\n\"SQUAAAAWWWKKK July 8 2016\"\n\n\n\nhe was a relatively quiet parakeet, usually would just mimic my ringtone when he heard the phone ring or make whistling noises when he got hungry, until about a month ago when he started repeating this date.\n\nI didn't know where he learned it. I rarely watch tv or have company over. Im someone you would consider a loner, but I like it that way, and I read online a bird would be a good companion for a hermit like me. \n I got him a year ago from a shelter, he was rescued when they found his previous owner deceased in her room at an elderly care facility. She was an eighty year old with degenerative Alzheimer's and her family specifically chose the facility due to the fact they admitted patients who had pets. That's all the information the shelter had about where the bird came from. \n\n\nI called the shelter to get some more information about the previous owner but to no avail. All they could give me was the name of the elderly care facility and the name of the previous owner. Sandra Mackenzie patient #1867 at Fairmont Home for the Elderly, London Ontario Canada.\n\n I looked up facility and called the phone number and a bubbly receptionist answered. \n\n\"Hello, I'm trying to get some information about a patient of yours, Mrs. Mackenzie patient #1867\" curiously I asked. \n\n\"Mrs. Mackenzie, yes, she currently in a physio therapy session at the moment and unavailable, can I take a message?\" \n\n...\"what? I was under the impression that she was no longer with us, at least that's what the shelter told me!\"\n\n\"Shelter? Heavens no, she's very much alive and healthy for a woman her age!\" \"Is there anything I can do for you?\" \n\n\n\"No...thank you...actually yes, please ask her to call me back when she gets the chance, I think I have something of hers.\" I was confused and quite surprised that the shelter had made such a grave mistake. I wondered why they would give me the wrong information and why they had received the wrong information in the first place. \n\n\nI had to run some errands after that and left my apartment for a few hours, when I returned home It was about 9pm and starting to get dark, I hadn't fed him since noon and by now I knew he'd be hungry, but when I got home there was no whistling, no noise at all actually, the bird was gone from his still locked cage. I called out for him but no response. I went to my phone to call the local shelter to alert them of a missing bird when I noticed several missed calls and a message on the answering machine. I Listened;\n\n*beeep* \"hello this is Mrs.Mackenzie returning your call.\" *End of messages.*\n\nI called back immediately with hopes that it wouldn't be too late for her and I was lucky, the receptionist responded and redirected my call to her room. \n\n\n\"Hello, is this Mrs. Mackenzie?\"\n\n\"Why yes it is, to whom am I speaking?\"\n\n\"My name is Ryan Im calling because I'd like more information about a bird you used to have, he's been living with me the last year and recently he's been repeating this date, July 8 2016, and I wanted to know if you might know why?\" I wasn't sure what answers she might have or if she was even aware the bird was gone this whole time. \n\n\n\n\"Ryan, is this a joke? Alister is right here with me as always, can't you hear him?\" \n\nAnd then I heard the bird squawking...\nAnd that's when I realized my bird cage in the corner was missing now, and as I slowly got up from my seat in shock, I looked over at the mirror, and saw that I was a bird the whole time. \n\n\nThe end. \n",
"A squawk aloud, down came crashing, \nLike nothing I had heard before. \nMy flightless, loveless, winged bird, \nCrooned wildly at me, whilst laying on the floor.\n\n**“Beware”** she droned, ever deeper, \nAs if she feigned a sleepless fight. \nShe turned and coughed, never ceasing, \nShe died there prostrated, fading into the light. \n\nI sat and stared into the fire, \nMusing over all the absurd. \nA whisper high, above the hearth, \n**“Beware”** would be the last earthly sound that I heard. \n\n",
"Sarala looks up from her book, taking in the view from her window. She lives in what she likes to call 'Nowheresville', but what's actually a town on a couple of maps. Today is her day off, and she wants to spend it at home, relaxing, alone.\n\n\"Hi, I'm Larry!\"\n\n*Ugh.*\n\nOnce upon a time when Sarala was a young bookworm with no responsibilities, her mother had taken her out to lunch with a family friend. She was listening to music, reading the latest installment in her fantasy series, when she heard her name.\n\n\"Yes?\" she said, tugging an earphone out.\n\n\"Oh, thank goodness!\" the friend sighed.\n\nShe didn't realize it at the time, but Sarala had agreed to take care of her birds when she died. \n\nFast forward a few years. The friend died, and Sarala inherited the birds. It turned out that one of them was actually deathly ill. She heard from her mother that one of the birds wasn't eating properly. Sarala decided to take them to the vet for a proper check-up and some advice for a first-time bird owner.\n\nThe vet had advised to get the sick bird euthanized. \n\nWhy the friend never took the bird to the vet is beyond her, but Sarala is down one bird, and she was looking forward to the relaxing evening with a cup of chamomile tea and a book and--\n\n\"Hi, I'm Larry!\"\n\n-- Larry, the bird.\n\nSarala sips the sickly sweet concoction of unproperly brewed tea and too much sugar, staring at the *bird*en. \"Hi, Larry,\" she mutters into her cup, taking her eyes from her window to the bird.\n\n\"Quick! Get out!\"\n\nSarala instinctively fliches to look behind her, nearly knocking down her tea. There is no one there, naturally. She breathes. Sarala glares at her bird, wondering if Larry is getting the proper nutrients from his bird food.\n\n\"She's here! Hurry!\"\n\n\"Larry, you're a crazy bird,\" she tells him. \"Do you know that?\" Sarala looks back out of her window when she realizes.\n\nSarala forgot to close the window before she left for work the day prior. The faeries that are much too common in Nowheresville must have decided to pay her -- or rather, Larry -- a visit. They are known to overstay their welcome and wait until the last possible second to escape undetected.\n\nShe muses about what her bird might have seen when she closes her window.",
"I guess when I bought Bird I was at my lowest point since Sean had passed. I was lonely, I couldn’t bring myself to interact with other people. I brought Bird and his cage and his jangling mirrored toys and birdseed home to my one bedroom apartment. Im not sure what I was expecting: a dazzling conversation partner? A cunning linguist? I knew you had to teach parrots to talk but Bird had his own plans. Birds plans consisted mostly of NOT repeating anything I said, no matter how many times I said it, projectile shitting between the bars of his massive condo of a cage and generally being an asshole…if birds can be assholes, which they definitely can be. \n\nSecretly, I had hoped Bird might be some sort of substitute for Sean. Early on it was evident that this was not to be the case. Now I had a parrot that fucking hated me and a dead fiancée. I took to crying myself to sleep. Don’t you fucking know that this stupid Parrot decided that THIS is what he would mimic? I would wake up to the sound of my own pitiful sobs, leave for work while Bird wailed, come home eight hours later to my own weeping. It wore away at my already frazzled nerves. Eventually I couldn’t take it anymore, I didn’t want to live. \n\nThe night I decided to die, the stupid parrot was in the living room, shitting on my carpet and repeating my previous nights crying jag.\n\n“Sean…” Bird wailed and sobbed, “I don’t think I can do this without you” he said in his parrot approximation of my voice followed by more crying. Then softer, “God I miss you...” I must have fallen asleep soon after that the night before as I could hear Bird approximating my after-hysterical-crying hiccups and soft snores. \n\nDamn it, I was so pathetic! I was so intent on emptying every pill bottle in my medicine cabinet that I almost missed it.\n\nHis voice, Sean's voice...\n\nWell no, Bird’s approximation of his voice. \n\n“I miss you, too.” ",
"Petey and I don't get many visitors.\n\nI mean, occasionally a home maintenance worker will drop by. I've never been good at fixing things, so the other day I had two guys come in and replace the AC unit while I went out to lunch. But really, that's about it.\n\nI don't mind being semi-alone. A quiet life, surrounded by books, going to work and coming back to a friendly bird, is about my speed. Petey's been my pal for almost thirty years now.\n\nA few days ago, work was especially exhausting, so I was looking forward to some highly predictable evening conversation. \n\n\"Hey, bud,\" I said as I dropped the keys on the kitchen table.\n\n\"Hi, Nate! Hi, Nate!\"\n\n\"How was your day?\"\n\n\"Just fine! Just fine!\"\n\n\"What were you up to?\"\n\n\"Oh, look at all that blood! Oh my God!\"\n\nI froze. \"What'd you say?\"\n\n\"She's dead, man! She's so dead!\"\n\nI swallowed nervously and began to walk over to Petey's cage. \"You -- you feeling OK, Petey?\"\n\n\"That guy needs to run for his life! Just ditch her, man! She's gone!\"\n\nI opened Petey's cage and let him perch on my finger. \"All right, pal, I don't know if I gave you some bad food or something, but we need to --\"\n\n\"Hi, Nate! Hi, Nate!\"\n\nAnd just like that, he was back to normal.\n\nEvery couple hours, he'd repeat the same series of sentences. Now, it's often the last thing I hear before bed and the first thing I hear in the morning. Blood, death, and running. Blood, death, and running.\n\nIf I don't figure out what this is all about, I'll go crazy. I might have to let Petey fly away so I can have some peace of mind. Was my bird a witness to a murder? Should I call the police? Oh, God, I have no idea. I just want it to stop.\n\n***\n\nThe two workers installing the AC unit decided to take a break for lunch. One of them pulled out his phone.\n\n\"I can't believe you've never seen this, man. You've just gotta watch the opening scene and you'll be hooked.\"\n\nPetey sat perched in his cage near the open window, and watched, along with the workers, the first five minutes of *Jaws*."
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[WP]: "Who were you before the war?"
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"\"Who were you before the war?\"\n\nIt's a simple question but it pierces me unlike my other buddies. How do I answer? These soldiers, my friends, thought an answer would be an occupation. The soldier to my right said carpenter. The soldier to me left said cook. Some even say father, mother, and son. I could not give such a simplistic answer.\n\n\"I was human,\" I said. My hand tightens the barrel of my m1 garand rifle. I had to elaborate. I owe it to these people for a clear explanation and so I said, \"I joined the army because of the atrocities committed here in Europe. No man should be subjugated to what that bastard Hitler is doing. It was the right thing to do. It was the right thing for me to do.\" \n\nMy soldiers propped up as if I barked a command. Everyone in my platoon opened their ears to me. I continued. \"War is brutal. You all know that. As soon as we stepped into the battlefield, I wasn't fighting for a race anymore. I fought to survive and everyone here to survive. Most of our men died still a human being, but I intended to be a survivor. I had to become as brutal as the war itself. So, I killed, and I will keep on killing to survive again. I shit, blink, eat, and breath like everyone here but I'm not human anymore.\"\n",
"Before the war I was so many things... So many labels all over me. Political party. Religious loyalty. Nationality. Ethnicity. Sexuality. \n\nBack then they were all worth fighting and killing for. Now that we've seen it, seen exactly what we are all capable of... I'm nobody. As long as nobody else bothers me I'm whoever you say. Never heard of no god, sounds like a nice guy. Never heard of no king, must be nice to be a king. Whatever you say.",
"A man walks up to me. He says to me “Who were you before the war?” I sigh. The war. We all know it as “the war,” it makes for tidy endings providing you don’t talk about anything. You get to paint the world to your children as black and white and hope they grow up to never know the pain of watching everything they stand for, everything they love, and everything they know turn to ash. \n\n\n \n\n\nIt all ended in 2075. July 16th ironically. Prior to that cursed day, I was a 36 year old and had been working as a Chief Engineer for the Joule Research and Development firm. The firm was, as the name implies, built upon researching and implementing technology to provide an answer to the world’s energy needs. The company itself was surprisingly successful. In 2052 the founders built a name for themselves by constructing the first commercial nuclear fusion reactor. Governments around the world poured billions of dollars into Joule as a result, and the name became synonymous with Heaven for engineers. I had graduated with my master’s degree in Nuclear Engineering in 2064 and found myself employed at their headquarters in New Mexico not long after. \n\n\n \n\n\nLife was pretty good by definition. The company paid well enough and they gave us a few hours each day to pursue our own projects. Those few hours were something I truly relished. Unlike my co-workers, I devoted those hours to pursuing projects that I hoped would truly benefit humanity. I felt at the time that I would rather be able to keep the patents and designs to technology open for all to use, rather than just see a single company control them in the name of profit margins. I regularly spent hours after work toying around with schematics for various designs and running them by management. It was during one of those after-hours sessions that I noticed an interesting quirk in some data I was reading courtesy of one of Switzerland’s particle accelerators. Acting as a successor to the original LHC by a few generations, the data it produced offered a fair amount of insight into particle physics, but it also produced enough data in bulk that the data was free to anyone to view. One of the experiments I was looking at had resulted in an oddly high yield of antimatter, enough for me to call one of my co-workers who was more familiar with particle physics than myself. Once we got past the initial “Why the h**l are you calling me?! It’s 3 in the goddamn morning Jake,” things took an interesting development. The design of the experiment we were looking at could be scaled up with a pretty high level of efficiency to produce antimatter in high, practically industrial (if you define industrial in grams) quantities. The capacity of these antimatter generators would allow for sustained reactions that would be capable of producing and containing tons of energy, to such a degree that our fusion generators looked like toys left out for babies. Once I was absolutely sure that what I found wasn’t some statistical error, I brought the designs and data to management. Under company policy, I would be given a year to prove that my project was worthwhile. I received funding and full approval in 6 months. \n\n\n \n\n\nAs if overnight, I thrust into the public sphere. To the eyes of the public, I was the champion of grassroots science. A lone worker who stumbled upon a statistical oddity only to unlock the secret to antimatter-based power generation. My name, Jake Rudolph Oppman, was discussed alongside adjectives like humanitarian, genius, hero-of-the-new-world, and absolutely loved the attention. The fact that I kept the designs for the entire generator design open-source practically made my Nobel Prize inevitable. \n\n\n \n\n\nAnd then the world fell into chaos. November 14th, 2070, a day that will be etched into humanity forever. The United Middle East, the powerhouse that took control of that region as various insurgencies and terrorist organizations fell into disarray, struck Israel. Talk about old feuds dying hard. At the time, Israel had been caught in a massive scandal in regards to an odd movement of weaponry along their border. I am but a scientist, so pardon my lack of political knowledge here, but apparently Israel violated a treaty that prohibited any sudden movement of troops along their border, a holdover from when the UME was formed in 2042 that allowed Israel to remain independent. Now, rather than actually deal with the issue responsibly, they refused to move their troops, and “warned” that any sort of retaliation would lead to war. The UME naturally responds with an ultimatum to remove troops or face war, only for Israel to respond with threats of nuclear weapons. The UME, feeling as though Israel was about to fight regardless, launched a warhead on UME in a preemptive strike. The entire developed world split into two camps, those allied with and those against the UME. \n \n\n \n\n\nThe ensuing war was the worst humanity has ever seen. The first stage of the war revolved around the United States hitting every nuclear launch facility in the region with an all out assault. They avoided responding with more nukes to do so in a move that many thought would mean a quick end to the war. How wrong they were. Israel was able to cocoon itself with the regions formerly known as Jordan, Syria, and portions of Egypt and Iraq. By 2072 the situation was quickly deteriorating. The war was already costly for all parties, with millions dead on both sides, and it was quickly becoming unpopular in America. For a significant portion of the population, it seemed rather odd that America was fighting Israel after the bombing, but it was widely viewed that Israel provoked the fight. Unfortunately for me, the unpopularity was forcing politicians to look towards “innovations” to end the war. That year, I had to answer to an arms committee about the efficiency of my antimatter generator. All of the designs relating to generating, containing, storing, and sustaining reactions with antimatter had to be given to the United State’s government. Even then, I knew what this would mean. In the years leading up to 2075, my life, my employer, and my world seemed to focus on only one thing: An antimatter weapon. The government forced me and the Joule firm to head up the antimatter project, and by 2075, we were sadly ready. Echoing words of past leaders, the United States called for Israel to surrender unconditionally on July 13th. I wept as the news was flooded with footage of the Israeli leadership flatly refusing. \n\n\n \n\n\nOn July 16th, the United States fired the antimatter bomb.\nOn July 16th, millions of people died as a result of the technology I created.\nOn July 16th, an entire nation was erased.\nOn July 16th, my invention for peace became the essence of murder. \n\n\n \n\n\nI wanted to benefit humanity. I wanted us to live good, prosperous lives and live in a world where no one would have to worry about being able to handle the world’s energy needs. And what happened? My generators produced energy, but that energy leveled multiple cities the first time they were used beyond experiments. I made my designs open for the world to learn from and do good with, only for them to become weapons. Those weapons created peace in a sense, but they also created the capacity for humanity to keep on being able to kill itself far too easily. \n\n\n \n\n\nI tell this all to the man. But of course, my reflection in the mirror never responds. He only asks that one question: “Who were you before the war?” \n\n\n \n\n\nBefore the war I was a hero\nAfter the war I was murderer. \n\n \n \n\n\n*****\nThanks for reading. This is my first time posting anything publicly, and I really haven't done stories like this, so feedback is greatly appreciated.\nEdits: A series of formatting things. Sorry, I don't normally post",
"Before the war? Not a question you like to consider now, now that you sit on your bed, trying to fill your time with anything, just anything, trying to fill your time. The web, drink, work... anything at all. See, to understand what someone's like before the war, to really understand it, you gotta understand what I'm like now, after the war. Now, I'm a broken man. I sit here, tobacco stains on my fingers, that depressing haze of Billy Joel style cigarette smoke hanging in the air. You sit, day after day, wondering if you can ever get back to the before. Now, you just want to forget. But, you know that you can't. Not because of the scars, but because if you forget, then those scars, everything you did, everything you saw, every year you've shed... It'd be for nothing. \n\nBut, back to your question... Before? Before I was a kid. I was a nothing. I was a dime a dozen. Then, in the blink of an eye, a snap of the finger... You're a man, and you're broken, and you can never go back.",
"We never thought it would happen like this, we where so focused on everything in the middle east and it just kind of just happened. He promised he would make everything right, just like it used to be. I was a normal high school kid, I had just graduated. I was in a local band that was slowly becoming popular, but I guess fate had other plans. I knew that when the gangs where starting to become dangerous that I couldn't just sit by and let it happen. I joined the militia and helped get the marked ones into hiding. They just gave me an old revolver and told me what I needed to do. I still remember the first time I had to kill someone. We had a group of families we needed to get to the safe house, but a small team of soldiers was already their. I hid behind cover and the other took most of them out but one of the soldiers tackled a mother as she and her little girl tried to sneak off. I didn't even have time to think about it, I pulled my weapon and kept squeezing the trigger. I went over to see if the woman is okay but I couldn't help but see the soldier. He was still alive, but clutching his stomach in agony. I recognized him, we had chemistry class together last year. When he saw me, he just looked at me simply because he could not believe that we had been driven to this point. The mission was a success, but I still remember the look of pain and betrayal in his eyes. We where both normal kids, thrust into a massive game that we where only pawns in. His only crime had been being on the opposing side. Every day I feel more and more separated from the kid who had never even thought about hurting anyone. Sometimes, I still can't stand what I have become.",
"    “Hello, ma’am. My name is John Jung. I am with the Independent. A small interplanetary media company focusing on stellar affairs, business, culture, design and much more. Please, ma’am, call me John,” I greet this elderly woman.\n\n    “Hello, John. You can call me Vanessa in that case. Pleased to meet you,” she says with a strong but fleeting voice.\n\n    We both sit down, she across my desk from me. We exchange formalities before I reveal why I have arranged this meeting. \"Who were you before the war?\"\n\n    She doesn’t seem to react, in fact, she looks quite calm.\n\n    “Well… that's a fairly complex question,” she answers.\n\n    Despite her words, I can feel a sense of conviction in her gaze. The bags under her hazelnut eyes wrinkle her skin. I can tell that there is a lot of history in the way she stares. Her brows droop on either side, and two small golden rings pull down on her ears--the pair look like they could belong to an elephant.\n\n    Her breathing remains calm, although I suspect I have caught her off guard--my question may be unravelling the numerous knotted memories tightly wound in old age.\n\n***\n\n    This young man’s smooth skinned face reminds me of when Roy was his age. John is such a curious fellow. Many of his rivals would have asked me about my time during the war, yet... he wants to know who I was before the trying time. Well, he has quite good timing, I've grown tired of retelling my amazing journey with Lucas--Captain Katsaros. The legendary man who led the heroes of the Mars War.\n\n    I sigh on impulse. I miss Lucas and the gang. I remember vividly of one day on our trip to Mars. Lucas had been wandering the halls of the Ikaros and I had been preparing explosive charges in the Armory. He had found me at my station and he had stared with longing eyes, just as John searches me in this moment. I wonder what John is looking for. I wonder why he asks about my history before the war.\n\n    I suppose I should get on with my story. I can’t imagine John’s media company would be happy with my usage of his time. But… there is a lot to talk about, I mean, where will I begin?\n\n    “Hmm… Let's see now,” I start. “Before humanity had any idea that monster hid on Mars, I was a cadet in the ESTC Space Force Academy.”\n\n    John’s face is expressionless. I haven’t said more than a sentence and this young man is what? Bored? Or could it be confusion?\n\n    “Is there something wrong?” I ask. “You must know what the ESTC is. Right? The Earth System Trading Cooperative.”\n\n    “Yes, ma’am I do,” John the journalist replies. “Please continue,” he urges me.\n\n    The Independent must be running tight ship if their young journalist here is somewhat impatient.\n\n    “I apologize,” I tell him, “Of course you must know what the ESTC is. However, to be fair, you had a queer look on your face like I said something you couldn’t comprehend.”\n\n    “Well.” John’s eyelids flicker, “Now that you mention it, I... don’t want know about your time in the Space Force. In fact, there are plenty of articles in publication detailing your service record. I’d like to know who you were before that, if you don’t mind me asking.”\n\n    My cheek muscles work tirelessly in their old age to show John, this clever young journalist, my broad smile. This sly guy, is looking for a scoop. I have never told anyone about my history before I joined the Space Force.\n\n    “Well then.” My smile is as broad as ever. “I’d love to answer that.”\n\n***\n***\n\nI'm currently writing the continuation but thought that was a good end point for now. I'll reply to this when it's completed.",
"Before the war. That was a time long forgotten to me. \n\nI was 20. Young kid from Brooklyn. I'd been the son of a military general, and I'd grown up wanting nothing more than to serve my country. Straight out of high school I'd enlisted as a private. Proudest day of my life.\n\nThe darkest day was when a terrorist blew my legs off. \n\nI remember going through drills that morning. It was a month into basic training. Going on a run at 5 am, watching the sun rise over the trees. Even the sergeant letting us have quiet during our run that morning - just admiring the beauty of creation. Talking on the way back with my buddy Sam. Something about cars, and his girlfriend at home not approving of his new one. Going into the showers. And then, as if in slow motion, the wall behind Sam's head expanding like bubblegum before the individual cement blocks fragmented and I watched Sam's head deform as he absorbed the blow. Passing out as the shock overwhelmed me.\n\nWaking up in a hospital to agonizing pain. Tearing the bedsheets off my body to see two bandaged stumps where my legs had been. Passing out again as the last thought that went through my head was I'd never be able to run with Sam again. That I'd never run with anyone again.\n\nThat same day the terrorists attacked fifteen other cities around the world, some with plane hijacks, some with bombs, some with concealed guns in crowded malls. ISIS. They struck with the desperation of an organization on it's last legs. All in total, 20,000 people died that day. \n\nI got my prosthetics and rejoined the front lines when war was declared on the Arab region in entirety. A line was drawn, and the world's armies moved in from all sides. Iranian, Saudis, Pakistanis- we didn't care. Nobody was feeling particularly merciful- we'd learned in a very hard way that it was too easy to lie about intentions. During the surrender of Syria I rose quickly through the ranks. Soon I was a general.\n\nThe Saudis, with their vast storages of oil money were the last to fall. We hunted the fat millionaires for a year after the other nations raised white flags, and for a while they held their own with hired mercenaries and purchased tanks. But eventually I made the call to bring in air, and their defenses weren't ready. We bombed the entire nation. The oil slicked ground burned for months after the fact.\n\nI moved into politics after the war. Became secretary of state, and helped pass the Zero Tolerance act. No violence was to be tolerated, no terrorist activity whatsoever. And when I was elected President, I replaced local police forces with military personnel. Violence ceased to exist.\n\nThat's who I was before the war. And now, you know too much Mr. Psychologist. I'll need you to stay in this room for just a second after I leave- please don't struggle. Thank you for listening- it has been very therapeutic for me. ",
"Before the war. That seems like a long time ago. Since you're asking i was a high school teacher, well in truth i was only in the job for a week before i got drafted. \n\nIt's funny really, before all this i spent most my life studying for tests and never taking any risks. I always took the safest route, now in this war there isn't anything safe; my life, your life and anyone else's who are unfortunate enough to be here with us.\n\nBut what i really miss, more than anything. My wife Gabrielle, to see her smile one more time, to hear her laugh. There isn't anything i wouldn't give for that. We met in the summer of 35'. She worked at the post office in my small countryside town and after months of trying to cluster up the courage to ask her out. I finally did, i was speechless when she told me yes; and from that moment on, every day i spent with her was better than the last. I told her before i left, that i would come back to her once this war was over and that we will finally have children together and start a family. That, that is what keeps me going in this crazy war. \n\nWell what about you?\n\nThe sound of a fire-fight echoes in the distance. The boat comes to a hasty stop, and the other men clutching their rifles, climb over the hull and into the hip high water. \n\nThe sergeant screamed for everyone to leave the boat and march upon the beach. \n \n \n\n",
"You want me to tell you about myself? I don't see how this helps you understand, but I guess. Sure. \n\nI was very typical. Never the most popular kid in high school, but I did have a solid group of friends, and I was well liked. I didn't go to the best college, but where I went was a good education. I never had the best grades, I never had the best job, but I did alright. \n\nAnd then I met Her. \n\nShe is the best thing I have ever seen and when she picked me as her own... I went from being \"average-guy-in-a-grey-jetta\" to \"holy-shit-what-a-man\". I was 22 when it happened. \n\nI could tell you every cliche about love or lust - whatever you wanna call it Doctor, you're the expert - at first sight. But let me use a few of me own. Her skin looks better than a PB&J to a hungry kid, her eyes beg more than that stray dog, her body makes coke bottles look like rulers. Yeah the years of screaming, bitching and crying turned her voice into a grating, high pitched squeal - but when she speaks she uses words so damn good she can get me to do or believe anything. It's like I'm her slave. \n\nYou know where I'm going with this, obviously I fell in love. Yeah she did the typical crazy bitch stuff like setting fire to my new sneakers (she had inspected the sole and found what she believed was a different kind of dust than the kind native to our hometown) or putting a puppy tracking device on my Jetta (she wanted to know where I was, that one should explain itself). \n\nIt was hard explaining this shit to my friends. They couldn't see what I saw in her, they didn't understand her. In the beginning it was all about snapping me out of her spell, getting her voice out of my head, trying to convince me this love, my affections, weren't *real*. \n\nI listened to her and dumped those friends real fast. \n\nBut it's harder to give up family, they'll keep fighting you about this shit, even though the heart wants what it wants. \n\nFinally though it was me and her. We were living in a palace, spending hours on end together. I guess that's when the battle started. \n\nThe last time the authorities had dropped by my place (they were so used to visiting my boxy little apartment on the corner of 10th and Park) they had pulled us both out of house and home. I guess we were disturbing others with our screaming. \n\nYears of battle had put my in rough shape, the arguments left me foaming at the mouth. With the little time between fucking and screaming, I hadn't had time to really wash (something she always yelled at me for). She didn't look much better, but there was still something about her - I couldn't get her out of my head. Maybe thats why we freaked the officers out.\n\nYeah, Doc, I can't lie, being with her is like going to war. But you gotta understand thats love. She is my enemy and my ally. She is so close to me now she is apart of my brain. It's a mindfuck, but I don't know what I am without her.\n\nLook dude, you gotta let me go. I've told you the same thing I've told every other doctor when I get arrested on these trumped up charges. And you all tell me some impossible diagnosis of getting rid of her, as if I can. Like I could every stop hearing her voice, let alone stop being attracted to it. \n\nListen dick, you're starting to piss me off, and if you think I'm getting riled up, you should wait until what my girlfriend tells me to do. You don't even want to know, sometimes, if she tells me a story just right, I can start to believe some truly crazy stuff.",
"A computer programmer, a code monkey. I was insulated from consumers, had a boss that translated their whining into specs. Sure I like AI theory and weighed in on a few discussions, but I'm no genius. \n... \nYou know what happened. Some asshole in a backwater cave stepped up their game, everyone shit their pants and ran for the gun closet. \n... \nYeah, yeah I'm gettin' to it. I was out of shape and mostly useless in a fight, so they sent my ass to a lab said \"make it walk\". Instead I made it learn how to walk. \n... \nThat took quite a bit of time. \"Make it see them\" took eight months for them to work out what to say, how to get the point across, I still have trouble figuring out what people mean. \n... \nWell it worked it saw, tracked, even predicted. \"Make it shoot\" I had some reservations about that one, no one else did. \n... \nLike anyone that could've canned my ass understood what we did. No I tried for mitigating factors, are they surrendering, are they armed, do they look threatening? \n... \nCause god-damned Dave wanted a promotion and a robot not shooting paper targets isn't impressive. Yeah I should've tested that more. Woops. \n... \nSarah got the overrides working and Dave handed the codes to someone in green. It was out of our hands by then. \n... \nI tried! Why do you think I'm here so far from any tech you writing this by hand. \n... \nTurns out the military is at least competent enough to keep their systems on closed circuits. \n... \nWell I tried to break in, got stopped five feet from a terminal. One measly door and private that just happened to give enough of a shit to call in unscheduled maintenance. \n... \nHell I don't even know what happened after that. Your the first reporter they let in here... in how long has it been? \n... \n\n\nHe still talkin' to himself? \nYeah, say what's he in for? \nWhat they quit putting it in the intro packet? Tried to sabotage the automaton deployment in Saudi. \nDamn. \nYeah I'm taking a nap, wake me up if someone important shows up.",
" The question echoed over the barren wasteland, piercing the almost deafening silence.\n\n \"Me?\" I asked the soldier who asked the question, a man named Gerald, quite the old fashioned name.\n\n He nodded and pulled out a cigarette. I'm surprised they still have people who use those.\n\n \"Well, I guess you could say that I was a nobody. I lived alone, while trying to live off the money I make while just wandering from place to place for the seasonal harvests. My father abandoned me twice and my mother died from cancer... amazing how friends and family will back up quickly when you ask for money to help treat yourself.\" I sighed and pulled out my canteen. \"Not only that, but they didn't seem fond of the idea of taking in a teenage boy after his mom died. I guess they thought it would be too much work to help me get over it.\"\n\n Gerald flicked his now-lit cigarette to get some of the spent part off and stopped me before I continued, \"Wait, you just said you were abandoned twice. What's that all about?\"\n\n I took a swig from my canteen. \"Well, I was about to get to that.\" I put the canteen away and pulled out a key. \"It took me a really long time, but I tracked down my father and talked to him. I think 'talked' is the wrong word, there was a lot of yelling, crying, accusing, among other things. In the end he gave me a place to stay. I hated him, I just didn't talk to him at all. But after a few years... I guess I started to trust him.\" I sighed for a second time. \"But that's when everything went to shit. The war broke out shortly afterward and he was drafted.\"\n\n \"Wait a second.\" Another soldier, Christopher, joined in. \"You can't say he abandoned you when he joined the armed forces, he didn't have a choice.\"\n\n I gave him a stern look and replied in a smooth, but stern voice, \"he had the choice to return when his time was up, but he decided to live in Italy. When I found out I was calling the army, trying to figure out why the checks stopped coming, but they told me that my 'father,'\" I spat the word out wit every bit of malice as I could, \"had been out of the service for a month. He had already found a girl.\"\n\n The circle of troops went silent\n\n \"Yeah, well as things went on I was broke, I was alone, and only farmers and small convenience stores would hire me. It wasn't long before I realized that joining the military would give me a chance at life, as ironic as it was I was chasing after him again. You guys have been more family to me than my actual family.\"\n\n \"Thanks colonel.\" Gerald smiled at me. \"If you need us for anything personal, we're here for you.\"\n\n \"Well there is one thing...\" I smirked to myself\n\n \"Yeah?\"\n\n \"Put out that cigarette, it's making me nauseous.\""
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[WP] Bread is now illegal. You are a bread dealer
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"\"Well, I guess this is it. They have finally managed to strip us of our right to bake bread. And personally, I hold Wal-Mart responsible.\"\n\n\"Roman, what exactly are we supposed to do now?\" I wonder.\n\n\"Ten years of constant bullshit by Dr. Oz and his cronies. Carbohydrates must be controlled. Obesity is a violent transgression against our society and an increasing danger to our already stained healthcare system. How in the hell can our society accept this decision?\"\n\n\"Remember the plan to enlarge the Mexican population? We sent millions of loaves, cakes and pastries across the border so they could no longer fit through the openings in the fence!\"\n\n\"Yes, well now we will all be small enough to go into Mexico undetected by the sensors. I estimate that in 3 short months of eating my 2 all beef patties, special sauce and cheese on a bed of fucking lettuce... That we will be able to pick up right where I left off.\"\n\n\"Roman, they have seized the bread ovens. Our livelihood has vanished. Not to mention our suppliers!\"\n\n\"I cannot worry about the suppliers. From now on Ms. Towntalk, we are on our own. A couple of vigilante dealers.\"\n\n\"Roman, you can't be serious. You don't actually intend to continue the business? We will be hunted. The FBI drones will find us if we even attempt to generate a single hamburger bun.\"\n\n\"I told you. Mexico. Now please go buy us two treadmills, and pick up some slim fast on your way back.\"",
"\"But I *need* it man!\" Boyce whined.\n\n\"Not my problem,\" I replied. \"I told you; you want a Reuben sandwich, you gotta get me rye flour. No rye flour, no rye bread. You see how that works?\"\n\n\"I toldja man, I *tried* to get the flour. But the Farmer, he wants like a hundred bucks a kilo for that stuff! A hundred! I ain't got that kinda flow on me, you know that.\"\n\n\"Then I ain't got no rye bread,\" I said, mocking him. \n\n\"C'mon man! I know you still got some of that flour from the last time! Why you holdin' out on me?\"\n\n\"Because I'm the one looking at 5 to 10 in federal prison if I get caught baking the stuff. You get caught eating it, you get fine and a year of probation, tops. Explain to me why I should stick my neck out for that.\" I turned away from him, \"Get me the stuff, and we'll talk.\"\n\n\"I can get you some yeast,\" he said hopefully.\n\nI stopped and turned back to him. Yeast was even harder to come by than flour these days. Most of us in the game had switched to sourdough starters, of course, but those took much longer to rise and were much more temperamental to work with. Plus, the cultures were particularly damning in the courtroom; the feds had recently amended the *Healthy America Act* so that anyone caught with one automatically got a doubled prison sentence. \n\n\"Really?\" I said. \"And where would this be coming from, exactly?\"\n\nBoyce smiled, his face obviously showing he thought he had the upper-hand. \"Oh, you know how it is; I know a guy, who knows a guy..\"\n\n\"Who is probably an informant,\" I snapped, cutting him off. \"You think I'm stupid, Boyce? The only people making yeast nowadays are also the guys who are brewing beer; and they don't share their product with *anyone*. Those guys are hard-core and they have *way* too much to lose by selling yeast to two-bit sleaze-bags like you.\"\n\nAlong with foods of \"low nutritional value\", like bread and pastry, the *Healthy America Act* also explicitly banned beer and white wine. Anyone caught baking bread could reasonably expect a prison term of up to 10 years. Brewing beer, on the other hand, could get you a needle in the arm. If bread was a sin, beer was the express train to hell; so the people who made it were understandably careful about who they dealt with.\n\nBoyce's face fell, \"Aw man, that was harsh! Just because I want some bread, it doesn't make me no 'sleaze-bag\". He shot me a dark look and backed away, \"Maybe it's time I gave Murphy a visit.\"\n\nI laughed, \"Murphy? The only bread recipe he has came out of an old Betty Crocker book. He doesn't have the chops to make a decent sandwich loaf, forget about rye.\" \n\n\"At least he don't insult me all the time. Besides, *things* can change.\" He glared at me one last time and strode away. \n\nI watched him go, fingering the knife in my belt. That last comment had clearly been a threat, and I knew all it took was a well-placed phone call to bring Diet Police to my door. Not that I was dumb enough to bake my product at my house, of course (only two other people besides me knew where my oven was) but I would still prefer to not have the feds sniffing around. Neither literally, nor figuratively.\n\nWe were in too public a place for me to deal with Boyce now, but as he said, things would change. I smiled to myself and walked back to my car. As I settled behind the wheel, by burner phone rang. \"Hello?\" \n\n\"Mister Mel?\" a deep, gravelly voice said.\n\n\"Yeah, that's me,\" I said. \"Mel\" was my street name, after the character from the old T.V. show *Alice*.\n\n\"I vas told you are quite the dancer.\" The voice had a thick, German accent.\n\nI smiled, 'I was told you are quite the dancer' was a code the people in my network used. It meant he was referred to me by one of my suppliers, in this case, a woman named Ginger.\n\n\"I've been known to cut a rug here and there.\" I replied, which meant I was open to making a deal. I waited to see if he knew the last part of the phrase.\n\n\"I vas hoping you could give me some lessons.\" \n\nThat was the correct response. \"Sure, what can I do for you?\"\n\n\"I understand you are ze expert when it comes to Pumpernickel. Is this so?\" \n\n\"Looking for a taste of the home country, are we?\" I asked, smiling.\n\n\"Ja. Dis country and it's ridiculous laws. A man should not have to sneak around for ze simple pleasures, ja? How much for two of your loaves?\"\n\n\"I take it we are talking 100% rye in these loaves?\"\n\nHe sounded offended, \"*Of course*\"\n\n\"That'll be $80. I'll meet you at the rest stop on highway 16 at dawn tomorrow.\"\n\n\"I vill see you then.\" The line went dead.\n\nI pocketed the phone. \"Well, no rest for the wicked tonight,\" I said, smiling. I put the car in gear and drove towards my oven.\n\n"
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[WP] You accidentally put a minus sign before the channel number in your TV. It shows a news network covering your city, now in ruins. The time is one hour in the future.
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"*...we can tell you that the White House has been evacuated. Pentagon is at full alert and NATO has registered no other missiles. Air Force bases and military fighters have taken to the air.*\n\n*Information is still coming, but at 9:07 pm tonight, the downtown area, known as The Las Vegas Strip, was attack and eradicated in a nuclear blast. We only have at the moment web cam footage from the outer edge of the city, showing an object coming from above and lighting up the sky in a blast of fire.* \n\n*Military and FEMA groups are moving now to the city for possible survivors. However it is estimated at this time that 90% of the downtown is eradicated. If you're just joining us...*\n\nCameron stared at the guide menu on the hotel TV. Channel –13: KVVU NEWS displayed on the bottom of the screen with the time being 8:53 PM. The time on the news station on the upper right corner was 9:53 PM. Cameron reentered the channel’s number again without the minus. The screen blacked out, showing a spinning circle in the middle and reopening back to the channel. \n\n“Not all dogs go to heaven Brian,” said Stewie from Family Guy, before the scene changed to a random joke segment.\n\nCameron stood up and went to the hotel window, staring at the skyline of Las Vegas. It didn’t look like it was hit by anything. Nothing looked out of place. The only thing Cameron noted was the sky looking a bit redder. A bit of jagged cloud formation coming from the west, almost looking like the top of a uneven ceiling forming out the darkness.\n\n“Cameron.” \n\nHe turned around as the door to the bathroom opened. “You ready to go down stairs?” His girlfriend said with a smile, dressed up in her beautiful red dress. \n\n“Yeah, I’m ready to go.” Cameron turned off the TV. Picked up his nice dinner jacket from the bed, and took a quick look in the mirror. The hallway seemed almost pitch black when he and his girlfriend stepped out, but no fear came to Cameron as the door shut behind him. “Must have been a movie,” he thought before reaching the elevator. He pushed the down button, hearing a series of beeps as the golden doors glided open. \n\nCameron and his girlfriend entered, making their descent to the gaming floor. They never saw their room again.",
"A new remote came out from Samsung this year. It was marketed as the last remote anyone will ever need. How right they were. \n\nThe remotes when set up let you see tv faster than ever before, no need to wait for the batcholor to come on at 8:00 when you could just speed up and watch it a 7:00 instead. Great idea or so everyone thought. \n\nWhen the remotes were first sold they worked like a charm until 5:15 pm June 8th 2027, 3 months after there release a signal was sent out that made the c4 charges hidden in the remotes to go off. Killing millions. That was the start of the greatest invasion of all time. I was watching the 6:00 newswhen it happend. fucking spoilers\n\nFirst time trying somethink like this. Board at work a figured I would give it a shot. Hope it's not to bad for you guys and gals\n"
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[WP]Scientists have just discovered that Everest isn't a mountain, it is a creature.
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"*it was a rather small room to have been called a lab... Instruments all around the shelves papers crumpled and strategically scattered all around... The air smelled of iodine with a hint of chlorine and it seemed as if the air froze from the cold.... and an obsessed biologist placed right in the heart of the room* \n \n**organism** \n\"any single celled life form can also be termed as an organism..... \nYes... *yes*^*yes*.... That's right \" \nIt seems like eons ago when they brought me the *peculiar* sample \nA deformed rock was all it looked from the first glance... Yet another rock from their spelunking \n there was a formation at the inner surface..... A *luminous* formation \nIt could have just been traces of bioluminescence.. \nBut there could have been no production in such inhabitable and cold environment \nAnd what I saw under that glorious microscope was beyond belief \n*moving nucleus* embedded in the medium of silt and granite... A **medium** of granite \nThe mountain is *living*... at least some part of *it* \n *small* wonder the dammed cave claimed three lives in return for being exposed \nThe *deep dark* cave... Could have served well as the assembly hall for Satan... Or the *heart* of something huge \nA *living* rock... We don't even know our own^**home**???? \n",
"It's been a week since the event known as the Cataclysmic Migration began. People in the area reported three sounds over the course of a week. Massive, bellowing cries like that of a whale, only deeper.\n\nOn Sunday, 10th July, the earthquakes began. This is what we have marked as the beginning of the event. Massive earthquakes topping the Richter Scale shook the Eurasian continent and reduced surrounding cities to rubble.\n\nOn Sunday, 17th of July, 2016, the unthinkable happened.\n\nThe mountain awoke.\n\nEarthquakes in the area reached a crescendo. Avalanches shook the mountain and rock was sloughed off unrtil what was revealed was an almost humanoid form on all fours. Hikers in the area reported seeing one of its 'arms' raise, and one final cry was let out.\n\nThere were no screams.\n\nThere was no time.\n\nThere was only fire.\n\nAnd then, nothing.\n\nThe whole area was eradicated by a blast of fire as Everest stood up and opened its eyes. It began heading north, carving a path through the landscape. Its course still has not faltered. It is heading directly to the magnetic north pole.",
"The seismic activity of the Himalayans over the past month was off the charts, but earth quakes were just the beginning. I had watched the news of the scientists trying to theorize about what the culprit could be, but no one had a logical explanation. For thirty-three straight days Everest was growing twenty feet taller per day. Until it happened.\n\nThe creature arose from the ground on May 13th, 2024. The ground in Los Angeles shook as the spike atop it's head, previously thought to be Mt. Everest, thrusted skyward. With metallic scales the size of football fields, a head larger than Rhode Island, and talons that could pierce God himself, the creature took flight.\n\nSixteen hours had passed before every major city within the Eurasian continent has been eviscerated of civilization and converted to a pile of lifeless ash. The last news broadcast before the power was cutoff said the creature had just destroyed Japan and was flying across the Pacific."
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It could be happy tears or sad tears
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[WP] Write a story that would make someone cry
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"He remembered being forced to run into a house and steal someone's daughter. There was only one locked door in the house, so he shot the lock. It was to a bathroom. The entire family was hiding in there. Two sisters were huddling together in the tub, each wearing identical red bracelets. He pulled them apart and took one outside. His commander shot her, and left her body in the street.\n\nLess than a year later, he was captured and placed in a cell. It was less than four feet to a side. Food and water was pushed through a slot in its door, once every three days. After an indeterminable amount of time, he started hearing scraping from the other side of one of the walls. After a couple of days, a hole appeared, and an arm poked through wearing a red bracelet. It was holding a bottle of water.\n\nA few years after that, after countless offerings made to him by the arm with the red bracelet, the door to his cell was opened by a man introducing himself as his comrade. He was given a new gun, and forced to execute several of his jailers, one of which was a girl wearing a red bracelet."
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[WP] Describe how a forced update to Windows 10 destroyed the world.
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"It all started when Microsoft announced a free update to those who had Windows 7, 8 and 8.1 to their last OS, Windows 10. Nobody knew when they meant last OS they really meant it. When the OS release date was approaching, a Windows icon showed up in the bottom right corner, upon clicking gave you the option to reserve the update, so you can get it as soon as the release day hits, some thought that was a cool idea, so they reserved their copy, but those that were happy with Windows 7 or others ignored it. But then it got worse, a lot worse. First the window popped up every now and then \"asking\" you to download and install it. Then they made the only options to defer for 3 days or install, **then** they made the cancel button do the same thing as install, then *shudders* they got rid of the close button entirely haha. Then the small popup turned into a full-screen popup yyyyyhhhh that was a good idea. *face twitches* Then they started installing Windows 10 and it you would only notice when you restarted the machine, *then* they started restarting themselves and that's when it happened. \n\nYou see, for some stupid reason all the reactor plants **in the entire world** ran on Windows 7, and the only way to prevent a meltdown was to constantly tell the reactor to not overload, probably a software bug they had a quick fix for and never went back to. Somehow one company managed to get the contract to create the software for all reactor plants, and as the clock struck 12 for the start of Friday 29th July 2016, they all restarted ready to install Windows 10 whether you liked it or not. While it took the painfully slow process of updating, the reactors started shaking, the experts estimated 45 minutes before they could hold on no longer. Luckily Windows 10 installed within 35 minutes, giving 30 seconds to restart the program to stabilise the reactors, before getting beyond the saving point. They all opened the program in unison and saw the same thing. \n\n\"The version of this file is not compatible with the version of Windows you're running. Check your computer's system information to see whether you need an x86 (32-bit) or x64 (64-bit) version of the program, and then contact the software publisher.\"\n\nIt was all foretold by James Cameron however for the software was called, Skynet.",
"\"Shit! This isn't good\" Chris knew this was bad. The loud explosion confirmed it. The sound he heard was the 20 ton concrete blast door that is now flying across the field. The chances of that door landing on a farmers cow are good but that was the least of his concerns. \n\nThe phone next to Chris rings. He frantically grabs for it and while bringing it to his ear he can hear his commander yelling. \"Sir, it's launching\" Chris says. The color is draining from his face. He knows what's about to happen. \"Sir, it's pointed at Moscow. No sir, not Moscow PA, Moscow Russia.\"\n\nChris slams the phone down and drys the sweat on his forehead. \"Why the fuck isn't auto update turned off on this fucking computer!?\" Chris holds the power button down disregarding the writing on his screen. \"Please wait while Windows updates to Windows's 10, my fucking ass!\" He yells. \n\nIt was too late. The reboot couldn't stop the update, let alone the intercontinental ballistic missile with a nuclear payload 100 times stronger then the bomb dropped on Japan that is now flying towards Russia. \n\nChris slumps down in his chair, heart racing, feeling like his going to puke. \"The end of the world brought to you by Windows 10 and Microsoft\" He says to himself before the underground bunker goes black. "
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Written in collaboration with /u/SurvivorType
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[WP] You encounter the infamous Mermaids of Space. Unless you manage to escape their siren call, you are doomed... or are you?
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"For Brett and Chad, Friday night in the Zenticulon Beta system meant taking a quick hyperspeed trip for some takeout, then heading back to college on their homeworld of Fratulon 5 where they would hang out with some bros and watch the newest episode of Girls Gone Galactic. Chad didn't mind the routine, but Brett was looking for something new. His bros could be boring sometimes, and once you saw one episode of Girls Gone Galactic you pretty much saw them all. Not to mention he was in his sixth year of undergrad; girls didn't seem as impressed by his ability to chug ten cans of brainhammers in a row as they used to be.\n\nThat was why this Friday was already looking up.\n\nBrett and Chad always got takeout together, but it was a battle between Black Hole Burger (Chad's favorite) and Tacoterrestrial (Brett's). Tonight, Chad had won their game of rock paper scissors. Brett was sitting in the passenger seat of their hyperskiff, wondering when things would finally turn his way, wondering what the hell 'paper' even was - maybe some ancient form of sensifilm? - when the Space Mermaids pulled up in their convertible.\n\n\"Hey, boys!\"\n\nThe two of them grinned. Their lucky day! The Space Mermaids waved their hands and caudal fins coyly. The convertible's top was down, and their shell bras were off.\n\n\"Score!\" they said to each other. \n\nBrett wasn't sure if it was a deliberate attempt at seduction, since Space Mermaids had no issue with toplessness and were more modest about covering up their cloaca. Either way, he whistled in appreciation. \"Looking good, ladies!\"\n\n\"What are you boys up to?\"\n\n\"Just grabbing some takeout,\" Chad said. \"Then we're gonna head back to the pad and hang out with the bros!\"\n\n\"Dude, shut up.\"\n\n\"What's the problem, brah?\"\n\nBrett ignored his friend, hoping to keep their suitors interested a while longer. \"We're up to whatever you ladies are up to.\"\n\nThe Space Mermaids giggled at each other. There were three of them - but where there was even one Space Mermaid, there would be many more. They traveled in schools. Brett glanced over at Chad, expecting a smile of shared triumph, but for some reason, his friend was frowning.\n\n\"Do you two boys want to come visit our tidal pad? That's how you say it, right? A pad? Oh my gosh, Flippy, aren't these human boys cute?\"\n\nBrett had to resist pumping his fist in triumph. \"You know we-\"\n\n\"Brett!\"\n\nChad was grabbing him by the arm now. \"Hold on, ladies,\" Brett said. \"We just have to confer with each other for a moment. Don't go anywhere!\"\n\n\"We'll be at the drive-thru, boys. Shrimpy needs her burger!\"\n\n\"You're so bad, Sharky!\"\n\nSharky seemed to be the queen bee of the Space Mermaid school. The three of them blasted their short range thrusters and maneuvered the convertible into the drive-thru line. Brett and Chad had already gotten their takeout - they were just about to head back to their homeworld when the Space Mermaids had pulled up. Brett knew that his friend loved his Black Hole Burgers, but seriously, when beauties like that just fell into your laps, couldn't it wait?\n\n\"What's the problem?\" Brett asked. \"The bros will understand.\"\n\n\"You can't trust them, Brett.\"\n\n\"What are you talking about?\"\n\n\"The stories, bro. Haven't you heard the stories?\"\n\nBrett rolled his eyes. He had heard things here and there, but everyone knew it was nonsense. \"Everyone knows that's nonsense,\" he said.\n\n\"People go with the Space Mermaids and they don't come back.\"\n\n\"That's just what Cameron said when he was high on orbital dust the other day. He probably just didn't want us to go out and get any hot mermaid tail ourselves. You really trust anything Cameron says, bro? That dude's on academic probation and he's only taking two pass/fail classes. How does that happen?\"\n\n\"Look, do what you want, brah. I'm not coming.\"\n\nBrett hesitated for a moment. Could there be any truth to the tales? No - no, there was no way. Chad was just jealous. It was clear that Sharky had been waving at him, and Shrimpy and Flippy were casting some come-hither looks his way, too. No doubt his friend was afraid of taking a spectator seat in the wild mermaid orgy that would be happening within minutes. But it was time to draw a line. He wasn't going to let his frat mates hold him back anymore. Pounding brewskies at the frat pad again when there was a whole wide universe to explore? No thank you! Brett was ready to take the first step.\n\n\"Alright, well, see you later, bro.\"\n\nHe released his restraints and went out through the back airlock, floating in the vastness of space (although the view was blocked by a few other orbital fast food stations and a space strip mall platform). He resisted the urge to look back; he knew Chad would be staring worriedly from the windshield. He could feel his friend's eyes boring down on him. The Space Mermaids had gotten their food and pulled away from the drive-thru, idling as they waited to see if their human boys would come along.\n\n\"I'm in,\" Brett said. \"Let's go party!\"\n\n\"Yayy!\" they trilled in unison, flapping their tails excitedly.\n\nBrett climbed into the back seat as the thrusters fired. The convertible's top arced over them before it went into high-G. Once it hit light speed they would all be sedated by the seat injectors for health reasons as it switched to autopilot, but at least for a minute, they had some time for conversation.\n\n\"So, uh, ladies - you ever hear those rumors?\"\n\nFlippy looked back and frowned. \"I hope you don't believe those, baby?\"\n\n\"I dunno, you tell me.\"\n\nSharky cleared her throat as she eyed Brett in the rear view mirror. \"So many people hate us just because we have fish tails. We didn't ask to be like this, you know. Some say a hotel manager created us so he could watch us flapping helplessly around his space resort for the entertainment of his guests. Some say we're an alien species from a distant planet. Some way we're just regular mermaids from Earth that left once the ocean pollution got too bad. All we know is we are who we are, and we have each other. Right, girls?\"\n\n\"Right!\"\n\n\"I thought you were one of the cool ones,\" said Shrimpy, who sat beside him in the back. She cast him a baleful glare.\n\n\"I am!\" Brett insisted. \"I totally am! I was just curious, that's all.\"\n\n\"Okay,\" said Flippy, \"we believe you.\"\n\nBrett felt bad. He considered himself an enlightened kind of guy, cosmopolitan, in tune with feminist issues, even of a fish persuasion. What did it matter if they had fins and scales? The top half was still pretty hot, at least. Also, he reminded himself, hoping to avoid objectifying anybody, no doubt they had wonderful personalities.\n\nThey traveled in silence for a while. They would be hitting light speed soon, and before he could no longer ask, Brett couldn't resist: \"How do you guys have sex with humans, exactly?\"\n\nHe thought he had just committed a major faux pas - maybe bad enough to get him kicked out of the convertible, doomed to float aimlessly in the black void after his suit directional thrusters ran out of juice - but to his relief, they glanced at each other and giggled.\n\nThis was going to be a hell of a night.",
"Sound cannot be transmitted through the desolate vacuum of space. There is no air to create the wave of vibration needed to bring noise to one's ears, and yet I heard Lorelei's song long before I laid eyes on her.\n\nI thought it was Katie singing to me, just for a moment. The honey sweet of the high notes and breathy smoke of the lows. But I am already in the heavens, and I know that the heavens are empty. Yet... the song continued. A song that I had not heard but a song I knew, one that spoke to my soul. Lilted harmonies gently joined the melody and with that, I was lost to her.\n\nI cannot say how long I sat there enchanted, listening to a melody too beautiful to exist, but eventually I saw it. A distant flicker on the horizon of the lancet viewing window. \n\nLike a firefly flickering in the night it moved toward me. A perfect sphere with a hull bathed in an iridescent yellow. It reminded me of the Earth's moon, and in that moment I understood how a lonely rock could be worshipped as a Goddess.\n\nCompelled by the song, the shuttle drifted; an unknowing moth to eternal flame. The lights of dying stars on the horizon washed the sphere a fearsome bronze. It bloomed open, a calla lily lost in the blackness of space and the sphere took me in. I entered, a lonely traveller, homesick and nostalgic for a past I’d never had; a past the song promised me. \n\nI’d like to think she waited for me, the siren in the sphere. A low lagoon lay at the bronze rock’s centre, fringed with plants I couldn’t put a name to. Their colours rioted between muted green and a deep, blood red. She lay on her back, singing her song to all who would listen. Water-stained rocks now dry as my mouth lay strewn around the pool’s edge. \n\nThe echo of a hum--Katie as she watered the plants, and the slow, heady drip of wasted water--the woman sat upright in the shallows and her tail coiled around her. Translucent fins furled and unfurled like a fan at the opera. Glittering scales grew bronze at her waist, darkening to gold and fading to black at the point of the tail, her skin glistened with water and sea-grass hung from her webbed fingers. \n\nShe never stopped singing, never at all. Even when I entered the shallowing pool in a trance, hands outstretched towards her. When I reached her side she sighed and ran her fingers through the water. \n\n“I can’t drown you in this,” she said. \n\n“There’s no more water,” I replied. \n\nThe skin on her shoulders had begun to dry. Flaky and hard, she scooped a handful of water over it. It trickled down her back and between the valley of her breasts. \n\n“Not anywhere,” she agreed. \n\nA man dying of thirst, a mermaid without her ocean. She opened her mouth and began to sing. Perhaps it fed us both. \n\n\n---\n\nThank you for the great prompt Lovely! You know I love mermaids! But I could not have done it alone, this was a 50/50 joint effort with /u/schoolgirlerror - thank you SGE! Was a lot of fun :) "
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[wp] Instead of being the only emotional aliens like the vulcans and the humans in star trek, the humans are allied with aliens that are more emotional than us, and see us as the vulcans.
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"“How can you do this?” said Agap.\n\nTom looked up from the desk in his borrowed office in its base near the edges of Patho space. “Do what?”\n\nHer webbed hands flexed. “Sit there. Doing things on your console. Don’t you…want anything?”\n\nFrom a human it would be a proposition. From a Patho…who knew? Her curiosity about his moods seemed entirely ingenuous. “I want lunch in an hour or so. Does that count?”\n\n“I want you to listen to yourself. Really listen. Is emotionless work the only thing on your mind?” She shuddered. “That sounds like hell.”\n\n“How would I get anything done otherwise?”\n\n“My people got as far as space travel, didn’t we?” She smiled winsomely. “You know I’ve felt seven distinct named things since I walked in?”\n\n“You walked in five minutes ago,” Tom said incredulously.\n\n“And all of it matters! Moment after moment after moment, threads, tapestries of brilliant shades! How can you line them all up to spend on something so dreary?”\n\n“How can your society function without periods of concentration?”\n\n“We can concentrate. When it’s beautiful, when it’s right. When one or two of those seven are fulfilled. Teams help. So do incentives. But you’re not even smiling.” Her brow furrowed. He thought he caught her lip trembling.\n\n“Don’t cry,” he said hurriedly.\n\nTears sprung up. “Don’t you understand how *obscene* that instruction is? Don’t think! Don’t breathe!”\n\n“If I weren’t thinking I would hardly be human.”\n\n“And if I weren’t feeling I would hardly be Patho.” She took a shaky breath and seemed to master herself. “If we’re really to understand one another like the first-contact people want, you have to know that your detachment is a little…off-putting.”\n\nFrankly, Tom had expected that meeting an alien dominated by emotion would quickly transition into a torrid affair with important life lessons learned by both. He was a little disappointed to realize he wasn’t attracted. Only puzzled. “You think you could get used to it?”\n\n“No.” She dimpled. “But we can still learn.” \n\nHe stood. “Just an exercise. What do you feel when you look out there?” He gestured toward the high window with its perfect view of the night sky.\n\nAgap flowed toward the window, staring. “I don’t have all the words. But…” she let out a stream of strange but pretty syllables, ending in “*Val-pre.* Wonder.”\n\n“Well,” he said. He remembered his first days in service, out at the edge of an asteroid field surrounded by science in progress. He remembered every minute on board a hyperspace cruiser. And he remembered the first time he had heard the word “Patho.” All of it to come here, to a starscape barely surveyed by human eyes, to the *unknown*, no matter how strange. This history wasn’t a series of facts. It was a glow. “That’s not so different.”\n"
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Its up to you to decide who is stronger
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[WP] Aliens attack earth. Nothing more, no strange twists. Just pure scifi
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"It's been 10 years since the Battle of Berlin. The year is 1949 WW2 came to a screeching halt once \"they\" arrived in Los Angeles, Paris, Rome, Madrid, and Istanbul, and Bejing. The Parisian ship was destroyed by collaborative forces from France, Nazi Germany, and Nationalist Spain. But that's where things got rough. Italy was taken over by \"them\", and so was Spain, the US, along with all American countries. China fell in hours, along with Japan. Soon the whole Asian continent was owned by Aliens. The last human city, Berlin was destroyed 10 years ago. Earth is destroyed. I am now on slave ship G-93, (Germany, region 93, or Koln). In my tiny 5 foot cell, which had laser beam bars, was a bed, which was just some fabric layed down on the ground, there was also a window, with an alien like glass. There was a bucket with raw fish in it, which they stole from our seas, they sucked up all of our oceans with one big device, they sorted out the fish (edible ones to maintain the human population) then they put the water along with the non edible fish back, then with one green laser beam, destroyed earth. The ships AI would detect whenever I was hungry and would cook the fish in the bucket. The only thing to do on this blasted slave ship was to sleep. I haven't slept in days due to the increased sound, which was getting louder and louder. I layed down and as soon as I hit the fabric, I fell asleep.\n\n . . .\n\nWhen I woke up I immediately noticed that they were emptying our cells, one by one. I looked out the window and saw we were on an alien planet, it was green, like earth, but somehow different.... a blue alien came to my cell and shackled me with lasers, and led me to a line of people, waiting to go on the planet. The line moved up ever so slowly, I could finally sew that we were being loaded onto a land vehicle. It was squarish and had no wheels, it hovered off the ground, which I found was amazing. I finally was guided towards the ship and saw that there were stairs leading down to several large holding cells, with windows. I was in a cell and fell the vehicle start up and move forward. But then a green gas filled the truck prison chamber...and I got... (yawn)ever so...tired....\n\nTo be continued (maybe)",
"Well, it’s been three days since what everyone has been calling, “the event.” We still don’t have a clue what actually happened. All we know, is at about 10:30am on Tuesday May 10th, the power went out... Everywhere. Or at least everywhere you can see from the roof of the building where I work (which arguably isn’t very far; it’s not a tall building).\n \nShortly after the power went out, police showed up at the office. They told everyone to stay put until they gave us the all clear, then we could go home. The all clear never came.\n\t\nLuckily, the office building we’re in has a cafeteria down in the basement. Even more lucky, delivery day for the cafeteria was the day before... whatever this is, went down. The big walk in freezers managed to stay cold for a few days. This morning we started discussing what to do with the meat and dairy products.\n\t\nFive minutes into that discussion... well, argument really... we heard explosions coming from somewhere near the office building.\n\t\n“Alex, come on. Let’s go see what’s going on up there,” I shouted to one of my work friends over the cacophony of explosions from above.\n\t\nAlex turned and yelled to Christina, another work friend, to barricade the basement door after we were out. “We don’t know what this is. Better for everyone else to stay safe.”\n\t\n“What about the people that are still upstairs? They’ll be stuck up there with... whatever it is that’s going on,” Christina shouted back.\n\t\nI thought about it for a second, “Keep the doors open for five minutes. We’ll send anyone we find down here.”\n\t\nChristina nodded back and started relaying instructions to the other 20 or people who were in the basement as Alex and I turned for the stairs.\n\t\nWhen we got to the top of the stairs the explosions were still roaring outside, but without the thick concrete walls of the basement buffering the sound, we could also hear small arms fire and the occasional sound of voices shouting over the noise.\n\t\nAs we made our way to the end of the empty hall at the top of the stairs, we were able to hear the voices more clearly. Soldiers. The military was out there fighting... someone.\n\t\nAt the end of hall, we opened a heavy metal door that lead into one of the main wings of the office building. The two side walls of this wing were mostly made up of windows, and the wall directly across from the door was brick. We figured we would be able to see outside and hopefully get an idea of what was going on.\n\t\nAs soon as we opened the door, all hell broke lose. Most of the windows to our left were blown out, there were injured soldiers laying on the floor all over the place. Now, I have a pretty strong stomach, and so does Alex, but I had to work hard to keep from losing the modest breakfast I had eaten a few hours earlier. A glance at Alex’s face told me he was struggling against his stomach as well.\n\t\nIt was the smell. The whole wing of the building smelled like burning flesh. Closer inspection at the injured soldiers told me exactly where that smell was coming from. I looked at a trooper leaning against the wall next to me, he was either unconscious or dead, I’m still not sure which, and noticed that his entire left leg was gone, along with a sizable portion of his left arm... The wounds were smoking and charred. And most of the troops in the wing were suffering from similar injuries.\n\t\nAs I was turning to mention this to Alex (how I was going to that, I don’t know, because there was still a deafening battle going on outside somewhere), another trooper came rushing in through one of the broken windows, shouting.\n\t\n“Everybody get down NOW! We’ve got incoming!” he bellowed as he dived behind a desk.\n\t\nLess than a second later, a ten foot section of the brick wall at the end of the wing exploded inward, throwing me and Alex back against the door we had just come through. Standing in the hole left by the explosion was a huge, vaguely man-shaped figure. When it stepped into the room, I knew immediately that this thing was not human. It stood close to eight feet tall, and was built more like a gorilla than a man, with overly long arms and short legs. Every part of the beast was covered with some kind of metal armor, except its hands and the lower portion of its face. Its hands were huge, with three fingers close to a foot long each and a thumb roughly half that long. And its skin was a dark, olive green color.\n\t\nIt was the face that terrified me though. The portion of the face visible, I assume it was the mouth, was made of four mandibles... It kind of reminded me of The Predator from the Arnold Schwarzenegger movie.\n\t\nThe creature let out a deafening roar, unlike anything I had ever heard. It was so loud and low that you could feel it as much hear it. The trooper, Alex, and myself all went to the floor clutching our hands over our ears in a failed attempt to block out the noise.\n \nTo be continued..."
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[WP] After living an unremarkable life, you die. In the afterlife you're judged and sent to heaven. Once there you learn that across all time, only fifteen other people have made it to heaven and none of you know why.
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"*For if your heart hurts so much that not even looking to God can cure it, look to your family and to your own heart.* \nI find myself somewhere between overwhelmed by life and underwhelmed by the inevitability of death. My life was not awful, but it was not spectacular. There are so many moments I never had, so many memories only made up in my head. I never saw Hawaii but I visited Alaska. I never felt the wind on my face as I fell from the sky with only fabric to slow me down. \nI never fell in love. \nWhen the machine that was tracing my heart rhythms flatlined, I wasn't perplexed or sad. I was slight excited I suppose, but the thing about ennui is that feeling anything is rather strained. The gloominess I felt for all forty-five years of my life was barely lifted in eternity. My soul was far too hurt I suppose. \nThere were no gates to heaven, rather I seemed to awaken in a new world that felt like a home I'd yearned for since my first breath. The Swedish have a word that best described my feeling; \"resfeber\". A journey was beginning, whilst another was over. \nI wasn't all together surprised there was an afterlife. I had, after all, been religious in my life and studied religions from all over the world, almost all had some concept of life beyond death. \nI found myself moving towards a large white field. The sky was white as well, as if beckoning me to fill it with colour. I left it plain, and wondered if there was anybody around. \nJust as I thought it, I was brought to a grand hall. Fourteen people stood around, each wearing a robe in a colour so beautiful I could barely comprehend it. They were all smiling at me. \nPart of me knew I had nothing to fear, this was my birthright. On the other hand, there was something wicked in the air. ",
"The last few hours (at least I think it was only a few hours. Does time exist in Heaven?) were a remarkable series of shocks that would have killed me, were I not already dead. I guess it all started when I died. \nI'd done DMT before so I was familiar with the tube that carries our souls from this world, and in the vast waiting room I reconnected with all sorts of familiar beings. But this time it was different. I could feel that something was coming for me. A bright light came and plucked my soul from the room, carrying me in its loving arms towards an even brighter light. \nI was deposited in a very strange room that seemed to change and morph, becoming what seemed to be every room that I had ever had a positive memory in, all at once. I was filled with the feeling that I was loved through and through, every single cell down to the building blocks. \nIn front of me floating on the gelatinous wall I saw a switch. It had a strange aura about it, as if I could feel it yearning for me to pull it. Compelled by this sensation, I reached out with my new ethereal presence and somehow grasped the handle. \nFlipping the switch I felt a deep, distant rumble start moving towards me. The rate at which the walls were changing began to increase, to the point where it wasn't even possible to distinguish between each individual scene. The faster the walls changed, the louder and ",
"As the Gate to Heaven opened Steven was still trying to corral the emotions running through him. He'd seen the Archangel Michael's face when Peter had decreed that he should be, as he Peter had put it, \"Heaven Sent\". Both Gabriel and Uriel had shouted with, what Steven had thought was astonishment but when he looked closer he could see it was more consternation than anything else. It was as if they wanted to argue, but couldn't. Steven had caught a glimpse of Peter and, honestly, he wouldn't want to cross the man.. angel? God? The fact that he was even in this position was still astounding and a tough bite to swallow.\n\nSteven took a few tentative steps forward. The ground, if you could call it that, was actually just clouds but when walked upon had the consistency of a Costco floor. It felt almost, cement-like. Steven leaned down and ran his hand through the cloud. Eerie. He could reach down further than the cloud he was standing on. Almost as if the \"floor\" was only underneath the soles of his feet. \n\nAs he walked he noticed that there were \"hills\" within the clouds. There weren't actual hills, but his feet found hill-like terrain as he walked through the clouds. The Sun was always shining. Always. No matter which direction you looked the Sun was in front of you. Steven was just cresting a hill when he heard a shout.\n\n\"Hey, Hey you! Over here!\"\n\nLooking to his left, directly into the Sun, Steven saw a silhouette. More than one actually. At first guess it seemed around ten, as he got closer and was able to count it was fifteen.\n\n\"Hey there.\" the man said.\n\n\"Afternoon\" Steven replied.\n\n\"Actually,\" one of the ladies chimed in \"..it's about 2am I believe.\"\n\n\"Well, good morning then\" Steven said as he smiled.\n\n\"Morning\"\n\n\"Dobro jutro\"\n\n\"Godmorgen\"\n\n\"Mornin to ya\"\n\n\"Bore da\"\n\n\"Goeie more\"\n\nAnd on and on until all fifteen had said good morning.\n\n\"My name is Silas, if you have any questions you're more than welcome to ask me. I'm the longest tenured English speaking Heaven Sent, Adisa is the longest Heaven Sent that we've found but she's Afrikaan and has so far struggled at the nuances of the English Language.\" \n\nSilas smiled towards Adisa. Adisa stuck out her tongue.\n\n\"Where are the rest of the people?\" Steven asked.\n\n\"Uh..well. As to that we don't know. We have an idea but we don't know for sure.\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\"\n\n\"Well,\" Silas said as he looked to the group\n\nBefore Silas could continue Adisa spoke up. \"What mean is fifteen only.\"\n\n\"Fifteen only? Fifteen people in the entirety of Heaven? Where did the rest of all of the Civilizations throughout history go?\" exclaimed Steven.\n\n\"We don't know.\" spoke a man. \"Henry.\" He said as he reached out his hand.\n\nSilas spoke, \"Adisa was here before me, at one point another man named Achilles was here, and before you ask yes he was Greek, and we do think he was the actual Achilles. But before we could get down to it he just up and disappeared while out running.\"\n\n\"I should be skeptical, but the fact that I'm standing on clouds, that the Sun is facing me wherever I turn, and that I saw Archangles... Whatever. But.. why just us? What did we do in life, or didn't do in life to make us special?\"\n\n\"For that we don't know.\" Silas said. \"Here, come. Let's show you the city, or town to be more precise.\"\n\nSteven fell into step behind Adisa, and next to Henry.\n\n\"What do you do here, what can you do here?\"\n\n\"Oh, well... you can do anything. We can create anything we want out of the clouds.\" As he said it, he reached down and grabbed a hold of a cloud. As he brought his hand up there was a red, ripe, delicious strawberry. He took a bite and smiled. \"Anything.\"\n\n\"It's how we make our homes\" spoke one.\n\n\"We don't need homes though Tarik.\" spoke another.\n\n\"They're both right.\" said Silas. \"We can make whatever we want. But we don't really need homes, or beds, or food. You'll find that you don't get tired, you don't get hungry, you feel no pain, and you're generally.. just happy. But we do make homes. It's tough breaking the habit.\"\n\nIn the distance Steven could see structures. As they got closer he realized they were the homes that Henry and Tarik and Silas had talked about. Some were simple. Wood or straw thatched together. Some were magnificent. There was a castle, with a moat. *That must have taken forever to make* Steven thought.\n\n\"I know what you're thinking.\" Tarik said. \"It didn't take that long to make. You can kinda cheat the system by holding your hand in the clouds and thinking about the house that you'd like. Takes a bit longer because you might accidentally forget something inside the house, but you can always bring some clouds in and remodel.\"\n\n\"Try it\" Adisa said.\n\nHolding his hand in the clouds Steven closed his eyes. He thought back. Back to when he was a child. Back to when his Mother and Father had moved to that house in Oklahoma. It was a single-wide trailer. Four wooden steps lead up to the rickety door. They lived there for six years, until he was twelve. Until it was torn down by a tornado. Those were the happiest years of his life up until he had met his wife. His mother had passed in that house, so had his father.\n\nAs he opened his eyes he realized there were tears in them. Looking up he saw it. The four steps, the thatched siding. The white bar across the bottom that was half ply-wood half metal. Moving forward he took the first step up and felt that knowing wobble of the stairs. His father had always meant to build a new one but had just never gotten to it. Opening the door he could smell it. The cider. They always kept cider. He turned around.\n\nMotioning to the others he said, \"Come on in, let me show you the house that I grew up in.\"\n\nSilas smiled as he took his first step up. BAM \"Ouch! Shit! Ouch.. Holy mother of god. Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh my goodness that hurt\" he yelled as he stubbed his toe.... and promptly disappeared.",
"Shit. Bonafide, pearly gates and winged angels, heaven. With a PIN code and a register to sign.\n\nName: Thomas [REDACTED] \n\nDate of Death: April 24, 2089\n\nCause: Liver cancer. \n\nAll done. A quick sign later, and we're on our way. \n\nThe weighting hadn't been that hard. God had done the weighing of the sins and despite being a lusting, sadistic atheist, I'd somehow managed to get in. Apparently standards had lowered in the 2,100 years since Christ's birth.\n\nThe pearly gates opened onto a landscape of utter paradise. The rolling, Mediterranean estates in the foreground opened to light forest and a lake off into the distance, with a gleaming river running through it all, and all the sounds of the world were of joy, as if the very grass was happy just to be there.\n\nOff in the distance, a small town. Looking somehow quaint and beautiful, but at the same time, modern, even futuristic. And from the town, voices.\n\nIt turned out that there were only sixteen of us. Only two of us were actually Christian, and since Fleur turned up in the twenties, there hadn't been anyone else. We did whatever we wanted, within /r/writingprompts' restrictions on content, and no-one cared. We could burn down a forest, and it would be back the next day. We could kill one of us and eat them and both them and us would be fine the following morning (Lawrence got voted to be eaten, his moustache was *awful*).\n\nIn the end, we found the answer. We'd all eaten a brick, by accident. All of us. We were in the heaven for people that ate bricks by accident.\n\n---\nIf you enjoyed this, I have a subreddit now where I stick my stories after a day or so.",
"Desmond found himself in a large, empty office. There was a floating bright white desk and behind that a bright white office chair with an equally luminescent coat on it. Desmond looked around and saw nothing but a framed employee of the month picture awarded to a \"Petra\". He looked at his clothes and realized they were as sparkling white as everything else. \n\n\"Hello?\", he shouted warily.\n\nNo reply. It was starting to come back to him now, his home, his wife, her cancer, his fall.\n\n\"Hello?\", he said again a little louder.\n\nA young brown-haired lady arched her head around the door frame. \"Oh.\", she said, \"You're finally here!\". Her spectacles, freckled nose and bright red lipstick expressed a shocked and inquisitive look. She walked in with a bundles of files in hand and threw them clumsily on the desk. She readjusted her glasses and sat down on her side of the desk. \n\nDesmond looked at her, mouth agog and just stood there. \n\n\"Take a seat, Desmond\", she said.\n\nHe sat. \n\n\"So...er...Welcome to heaven. Well done on being a good person down on earth and all that. God has deemed you worthy of a seat at his exclusive club for the rest of eternity. So...er... you died. As you can probably guess and you died of...\". Her slender fingers flicked through one of the files...\"suicide. You died of suicide. I'm guessing you probably knew that. Well anyway. This is heaven where all your hopes, dreams and fantasies can come true. Anything you could want you can have. You can live a hundred billion lives in one day and still be home in time for tea. Riches, fame, power anything...\"\n\n\"my wife...\", he interjected, \"is my wife here?\".\n\n\"well...er...thats complicated\", She timidly replied.\n\n\"what do you mean? complicated?\", he answered.\n\n\"well. *Your* wife. Her soul. Her essence. The person she was has blinked out of existence. That's what God does with souls that don't make it. Her time on earth was happy yet short and this is how it ended. None of that barbaric hell malarkey you go on about on earth. Its complicated you see, you and...\"\n\nHe stood up leaning over the desk forcefully and interrupter her, \"What do you mean she isn't here? She was kinder, better and more spiritual than me?! How in hell am I here and she isn't.\"\n\nShe meekly said, \"Sir, If you could kindly take a seat I could explain a little more.\"\n\nDesmond saw the startled look in her eyes, the way she was shriveled to the back of her seat and the rise and fall of her chest increasing. Guilt washed over him and he sat down silently.\n\nPetra straightened back up, put her hands on the table and said, \"like I said before: complicated. God is...er...quite exclusive when it comes to who gets into heaven. So far only 15 people have made it. Your wife's soul isn't here but this is your heaven. All your fantasies can come true.\" She snapped her fingers and they transported back to his kitchen. \"If you want to spend a hundred million years with the perfect version of your wife you can!\" His wife was by the oven, more beautiful than ever, picking up a peacon pie out of the oven, his favorite. The orange light of sunset was streaming through the window \"and all those annoying habits of hers vanish! You know that annoying thing she did with her teeth? Gone! Her stealing all the sheets? Not anymore! Is she too anxious for you? Not anymore!\" His wife smiled at Desmond, gave him a kiss on the cheek and said \"Hello handsome\".\n\nDesmond sat there in shock. Petra put her hand out to Desmond's shoulder and looked at him with her pale blue eyes. \"like I said, Desmond, Anything you want.\", she said comfortingly. She continued \"you could spend eternity with the perfect version of your wife and you'd still be able to do anything else on top of that.\"\n\n\"You want fame?\", she clicked her fingers again and they teleported, he stood, guitar in hand, in front of a huge audience of undying fans all screaming their love for him.\n\n\"Power?\" she clicked and they teleported again, this time Desmond was sitting in the Oval Office at the White house with a group of army officers stood before him. \n\n\"Or perhaps a more...er...simple fantasy is what you're after\" they teleported again, this time they were sitting in a pool and a Desmond was surrounded by a hundred of the most beautiful women he had ever seen. The ones closest to him touching and kissing him. \"We missed you Desmond\", \"We're so glad you're here\", \"I want you Desmond\" were all the things he heard while the group continued to touch him. \n\nHe heard a click again and they were back in the office. Petra sat there with a grin on her face. Her hair slightly disheveled from all the movement. \"like I said: anything, everything, forever.\" She clicked again and Desmond lived a hundred thousand lives each more beautiful than the last in the blink of an eye.\n\n\"Wow.\" Desmond said.\n\nShe laughed and stretched her arms. \"I hope you enjoyed the show Desmond. I always feel its important to show people rather than tell people the full extent of heaven otherwise you don't really get the picture. Plus i don't get to do it very often considering only sixteen people, including you, have made it to heaven.\"\n\n\"Only Sixteen people have made it to heaven? how?\", he said.\n\nPetra shrugged, \"I don't know really, I guess god is a lot more picky than you humans think he is. Thinking about it now Desmond you're probably going to be one of the last newcomers considering what's going to happen on earth.\"\n\n\"Whats going to happen on earth?\", he asked. \n\nShe clicked her fingers again. This time they were in an extremely overcrowded hospital. There was blood all over the floors and people screaming and groaning while other people bustled about. There were patients on the floor, children crying and disheveled doctors and nurses running about everywhere. Petra looked around glumly \"In the year 2050 a biological weapon created by the US government accidentally gets released into the general population. It works incredibly quickly, contaminates easily and leads to an incredibly painful death. Humanity doesn't stand a chance. And there's nothing we can do to stop it...\" \n\nShe sighed, \"well...nothing *I* can do to stop it. I suppose you could, if you really wanted to. But that's crazy talk really.\"\n\n\"What?\", Desmond exclaimed, \"How can I stop it.\"\n\n\"Peoples souls.\", She replied, \"That's were miracles come from. You can decide to stop the apocalypse but then you're soul would blink out of existence. But anyway that's crazy talk, what's a couple billion lives compared to an eternity in heaven\".\n\nDesmond pondered on this and then agreed. He could live 10 billion lives in a minute. He could live in 100 billion worlds of his creation for longer than all of them put together and still have room for more. \"Yeah\" he said \"I suppose you're right.\"\n\n\"Right,\" Petra absentmindedly said \"Although, I suppose that if humanity did survive this apocalypse that could potentially lead to a person or two entering heaven over the next couple millennia.\"\n\nDesmond hadn't thought of that. He supposed that giving up eternity was understandable if it allowed more people to live in eternity. That and saving the lives of everyone on earth could justify the decision. But could he really do that. Could he really give up an eternity for the off chance that humanity survives long enough for more people to enter heaven?\n\n\"Hey Petra, if humanity did survive how long would you say it would be before another person enters heaven?\", Desmond asked.\n\nPetra blinked, clearly surprised by the question. \"Oh, its usually once every 2 millennia or so, though I suppose with population growth and the increasing the number of lives and therefore deaths on earth we could probably look forward to another person in say...about 500 years or so. That is if humanity survives till then.\" She looked at Desmond closely now. \n\nDesmond looked to his shoes. 500 years. Did he really think humanity would survive long enough for it to be worth it. Even then he'd lose his eternity. With all these nuclear weapons, global warming, overpopulation and the like, did he really think humanity could come even close to that long? No. No he did not.\n\n\"yeah, like you said...crazy talk\", Desmond nervously laughed. \"c'mon let's go\". He clicked his fingers and they were back in the office.\n\nPetra sat there in her chair, looked at him morosely and sighed. \"Oh Desmond, I really thought you were close to making the right decision. Most people are so selfish they don't even give the choice of the sacrifice a moments notice. They just skip ahead, ignoring what they've just seen and try to get started on their eternity in heaven. You really thought about it. Barely anybody makes it to the stage where they contemplate their faith in humanity. \n\n\"Wait, what do you mean?\", Desmond asked.\n\nPetra continued, \"Whether humanity will survive long enough to make your sacrifice worth it and allow more people to get into heaven. Its funny y'know, all these churches and religions, they all talk about people having faith in God but what God is really looking for is for people to have faith in humanity...to believe they'd be strong enough to survive...and to act selflessly to choose the right decision. Don't give yourself too hard a time Desmond even the great spiritual leaders and saints fail in the final test once they've had a taste of heaven.\"\n\nPetra laughed, \"I was really rooting for you Desmond, really hoping you could be number 16 on the list. I even skewed the facts a bit to give you an extra chance. I guess it was never meant to be.\n\n\"I don't understand...\", Desmond said.\n\nPetra said softly, \"The whole virus thing was made up by yours truly. 15, Desmond. 15 people in the entirety of existence have been willing to give themselves up because they had faith in humanity.\"\n\n\"And now,\" she said, \"your existence has come to an end.\" \n\nShe clicked her fingers once more and Desmond blinked out of existence. She packed up her files and walked through the door.\n\n\n\n\n\n",
"I squinted into the light; it hurt my eyes. My head hurt too. Everything hurt. Then the light grew brighter and nothing did.\n\nSuddenly I was in a white room, bathed in pale light. Several white-robe clad figures with wings and halos surrounded me, smiling. \n\n\"Welcome to Heaven!\" said the one who appeared to be in charge. \"Human, right? We hardly see any of you! You'll make 16. Just follow Grace.\" He gestured to a young angel behind him. She smiled politely and gestured for me to follow.\n\n\"Wait, I...\"\n\"You have questions, of course!\" said Grace, pushing me forward gently. \"But I'm afraid we have to get you to the human quadrant within a specified timeframe. But once there you'll have all eternity to ask away!\"\n\n\"What? There's a schedule? Why?\" I was bewildered. This place didn't seem very heavenly. \n\n\"Yes, just a precaution. Humans are very prone to violence. We've found that minimizing contact with those you're not used to tends to be for the best.\"\n\n\"Well, but I'm not violent! I wouldn't hurt a fly.\"\n\n\"For the record, you have hurt several flies\" Grace said in a clipped tone. \"It's in your file.\"\n\n\"It's just an expression\" I muttered. Did fly deaths count? What the hell kind of Heaven was this? \n\"What's going on? Why are there only 16 humans here? There are billions of us, and I wasn't that great!\"\n\nGrace paused and stared at me for a moment. \"I always forget that you all don't know.\" She smiled beatifically. \"Well, big news! This isn't the only divine afterlife! There are an infinite number of afterlives - your own custom-made bliss as you always imagined it!\"\n\n\"But I never imagined anything\" I said.\n\n\"Exactly,\" said Grace. \"That is why you're here.\"\n\n\"What?\" I felt a chill run through me.\n\n\"This is standard issue Heaven\" said Grace. \"For everyone who never daydreamed or wondered, we do our best as heavenly contractors to provide an eternity of general bliss.\" She opened a glowing door, and pretty but nondescript harp music poured through.\n\"There aren't many of you, since for all your discord and warmongering, humans are generally an *imaginative* bunch. For the few of you who couldn't be bothered, we created this space. I think you'll find it is quite objectively perfect.\" \n\nGrace held open the door and gently ushered me into the light. \"We hope you'll be reasonably ecstatic here.\"",
"Well this is odd. Me, an Atheist is in Heaven… or nearly what people described as Heaven. There are 15 others here. \n\nLet me back up. The grass was wet and I was in my bare feet. Electric mower with an unknown bare spot on the extension cord. You can probably guess the rest. I should have known better. \n\nSo what happens when you die? The tunnel with light at the end as some faiths say? No. Those are just chemicals in the brain and different brain reactions. None of the different faiths near death experiences seem to encompass reality. Real death is more mundane. Many people just cease to exist. They become no more. Some go to what some would have called Hell. It is made of people of many faiths, most of whom were devout to their particular faith, which I find rather amusing. Odd how I have this knowledge of the end of life, but no ideas of what is going on here. \n\nI digress, this is supposed to be what is Heaven like. Just in case I am brought back from life and can write different perspective. I must keep this short, so please excuse the short manner in which I’m writing today.\n\nOnto Judgement. I don’t really recall the Judgement. There was one, and I was allowed through. Others I knew, devoute people, were also judged, and I saw them cast aside. Others I knew, many Atheist and many of many faiths, simply stopped existing without Judgement. I couldn’t even tell you the hows or the whys of anything in regards to Judgement. \n\nWhomever is the keeper of Heaven, He lets us see these things and we can see into the past, but can’t see into the future, which is full of static. He says that’s because there’s too many options, too many choices that can be made that can change too many outcomes. He claims he can see through the static and see all options. He does not know what choice will be made, but knows all possible paths. He does not interfere with anything and He never wanted to be a God, which is why He lets most people cease to exist rather than pull them and Judge them. He Himself isn’t sure why He pulls whom He pulls, but He does know why He lets some of us in. He just won’t say. He admits He may be letting many cease to exist that would be here, but He’s reasonably certain the total would be still very small. Hell is filled with billions of souls.\n\nHell isn’t like the Christian Hell, of which I’m most familiar. He notes that the Hell that most Christians image was wrong even in their own faith’s context, it was eternal separation from their God, which was likened to the Hell they imagined. It was really a misunderstanding on the original text and then years and years of teaching it wrong and they didn’t think otherwise… sort of like how Sodom wasn’t destroyed for sexual immorality (though it may not have helped as the sexual immorality was mentioned, but that a correlation not cause) as many thought, but as the Bible itself pointed out, was because it was a land of plenty but didn’t help the needy and the poor… but I digress. Hell. Okay, it is like Christians imagined it, sometimes. They rotated through different variations of Hell from different faiths. They see all faiths are equally wrong. After a few rotations through all the various forms of Hell, sometimes they cease to exist. He doesn’t seem to control that. I suspect that whatever drives Him to pull whom He pulls, is probably what allows Him to let them cease to exist. \n\nOnto Heaven. Heaven is green fields, blue skies. Modest homes. We don’t always get along, and there are debates and arguments among us 16. There are also times of great joy and loving one another’s company. I was far more… solo in my old life than here. I find myself joining in with the group. Something draws me to them. They all seem familiar, yet strangers. \n\nWe asked Him, why us? “You are you” is all He ever says. We’re nearly ready to have mice build a computer to find out what He means but fear the answer would be 42… ha... Oh, we do have books in a great library here. That was one I always wanted to read but didn’t yet in my prior life. I’m reading it now, though I knew the reference prior. \n\nWe have different names. Different nationalities. We aren’t all humans of Earth either. Oh, yeah, the universe has many lives that are included in the Heaven/Hell thing. Of Earth, only humans qualify. He can’t say why. Not all planets with life qualify either. Only select worlds and only select species on those select worlds. In all the universe there are only two worlds that have two species that qualify, and none have made it to either or yet. That’s all He’s told us about that. Of those of us in Heaven, only four aren't from Earth. Hell however seems fairly evenly split between the species of many planets. All species are vaguely humanoid, along the lines you would expect in a sci-fi movie.\n\nSo let’s review the clues so far:\n\n* “You are you.” He repeats this any time we ask, even if we ask in an offhand way.\n* We share something in common, He won’t say what, but He seems amused by that.\n* We seem to be familiar with one another, despite being separated by time and space, yet at the same time strangers who quickly become friends. Very hard to put into words.\n* He is not God, nor any sort of god imagined by anyone prior, though He sometimes lets that trail off with a “Sort of”. \n* He also seems to be familiar, though distant. Like I knew Him in my life prior. Oddly, I can recall nearly everything in my life prior far better now than I could while alive, and I don’t remember seeing Him, or anything/anyone like Him. \n* There is a room at the Library that is filled with mirrors on all the walls. In the center is a couch. In front of it is a coffee table. There is one book on that coffee table, Robert Heinlein's “Stranger in a Strange Land”. While I don’t consider this a clue, most of the others feel it is, so I include it here.\n \nIt is a mystery why we were chosen, but we have all eternity to gather why. There may indeed be no wrong or right answer. In the unlikely event there is ever a \"dear reader\" to this, perhaps they can postulate on why we are here when most others are not. ",
" I stared across the rolling, green meadows of the afterlife with my mouth agape at the revelation.\n\nUnder a perfect blue sky, all the fruits in the world and more grew aplenty. There were even strange plants that covered entire valleys, growing like wheat or corn, but somehow only producing ears of perfectly cooked bacon. No matter what you wanted, this world seemed to have it just around the corner. No need for violence, nor ethical dilemmas, this paradise provided everything I ever wished for.\n\n\nAnd nobody else. For what felt like eons, I wandered a lonely hell. A world big and plentiful enough to support trillions upon trillions of souls, completely empty.\n\n\nUntil now.\n\n\nI first saw her under a Durian tree, bare as the day she was born. After all, what use was clothes when there were no predators, no bad weather, and no other people?\n\n\nShe was one of the first, as far as she could tell. She had wandered for millennia in this plentiful wasteland we called heaven, and I was only the fifteenth person she had ever met. I had always hoped I'd find some sort of city, or at least a settlement. Somewhere with other people. But it was apparently not to be. Not ever. After a few hundred years, two people run out of things to talk about. Its easier to be alone, than to face the awkward silences.\n\n\nAs we talked about our lives, the people we had met, our fellow travelers through heaven, the different religions and creeds we practiced, we eventually pieced together the clues. \n\n\nIt doesn't matter how pious someone is, or how devoted they are to helping fellow man. It doesn't matter if they truly are a saint, or if they merely present themselves as such. It doesn't matter how pure their motivations, it doesn't matter how much their heart bleeds.\n\n\nIt turns out that throughout all of history, and throughout all religions and creeds, no matter how loudly they may profess otherwise in defense of their faith;\n\n\nIt turns out everybody masturbates.\n\n\nExcept us sixteen.",
"Well, ladies and gentleman, I am finally dead. I literally just died climbing a ladder attempting to take my Christmas lights off in June. I mean, I guess this is what I get for being nothing more than a simpleton built for lazy boys and late night Adult Swim sessions. I worked an IT job for ten years and I never once got employee of the month and I never once worked overtime. Damn, I loved that job. I bet good ole boss man, Ricky Dicky, is cackling in his obese laugh while reading my obituary. I hope he snorts to death.\n\n\"Our good friend and long time community member, Daryl Downberry, has left us far too early. He fell from a damn ladder while taking off his Christmas lights in the middle of June. What a jockstrap\".\n\nI love it. I leave no children behind and I definitely never married a soul sucking woman. Since I am dead and we are being candid, I barely escaped this life being virgin free. But let me tell you, the whole losing your V-card was overrated for me. Some prostitute off of 5th avenue named Coco Puffs ended up being my savior in that regard, but man, it wasn't very enjoyable. The whole thing... the smells, they haunt me. Ok, you guys don't want to hear about all of that. As far as dating and relationships, let's just say that women weren't salivating to be with a man who had week long gaming binges and was an avid collector of life size smurfs. Yes, that was not a typo, I collected life size smurfs.\n\nAnyways, now I'm here floating with 14 other jack offs and I have no idea why I'm about to enter heaven. How do I know I'm entering Heaven? Well, the huge five mile high sign that says \"Heaven\" is making my spidey sense tingle just a bit.\n\nI look around and try to start small talk.\n\n\"Hey peeps. How long have you guys been hanging out here?\"\n\n\"I've been here for about twenty minutes\" says the nerdiest little chunk ball you've ever seen. I swear he died eating too much chocolate or something.\n\n\"Yall some lucky little boogers. I reckon I've been here for about twenty days. Ain't that some luck. My name is Klem by the way.\"\n\nKlem was definitely your stereotypical dumb redneck. Not surprising at all, he managed to travel to heaven with his overalls on. \n\n\"Ok... well that's comforting\" I say sarcastically. \"Basically, we have no idea how long we are here. What are the other twelve doing?\"\n\n\"They've done been sleeping the whole time\" says Klem as he looks their direction.\n\n\"Damn. This is just weird... How did you guys get here anyway?\"\n\nThey both look at each other and then shift back to me. The chunk ball speaks up first.\n\n\"W-- Well, I-- I..\" he starts stuttering profusely. \"I was climbing a ladder trying to take my Christmas lights off. I was hungry, so I reached for my Kit Kat that was in my underwear and I fell on my head... I think?\" he says nervously as he throws up the words all over Klem and I.\n\nHoly shit... \n\nKlem Speaks up, \"I was actually... well, gosh darn, nevermind. It's too embarrassing. I done fell off a ladder too. Dem lights needed to come down before July came\" he quickly spits out the words.\n\n\nI shake my head in disbelief. I mean, I knew I was worthless. I had not contributed a single thing to society, I had never changed anyone's life or helped a single soul. To be honest, if I had believed in a God, I would assume that I wouldn't meet him. I just thought I'd meet his little buddy, the red butt devil, in the afterlife.\n\nBut this is Heaven. This is heaven for people who have died falling off ladders while taking off Christmas Lights in June. \n\nOr is this hell? Does it even matter?\n\nI'm going to just float here and be sad about it all.",
"*So this is it, huh?* I thought as I floated through the tunnel of light and into the sky. I'd lived an alright life, I guess, having only killed two people and stolen nothing. Ninety two is longer lived than most, and I guess I should have been pretty happy with that. A long life is a good life, right?\n\nI settled in a brightly lit room after the tunnel ended. My body was gone. A quick glance at my surroundings revealed four walls, a floor, a ceiling, and nothing else. \n\n\"Here, ye be judged,\" a voice boomed. It came from inside my skull and from outside the room. It was everywhere. \"Let us weigh your sins against a feather and see which rises.\"\n\nI could only see the room. Nothing else was around and I worried about this judgment. \"Hey, now,\" I called out. \"All my life against the weight of a feather and I'm not even allowed to witness the scale?\"\n\n\"Fuck off,\" the voice boomed. I thought that comment a little crude for Heaven, but figured what the hell do I know? I let it slide.\n\n\"You have passed,\" the voice called out. A doorway opened in one of the walls, revealing an even brighter light that I worried would damage my eyes. \"You may enter Heaven.\"\n\nI walked through the other side, and the bright light slowly faded to reveal grassy meadows that were carpeted with flowers, mountaintops that were covered in snow, and forests that were filled with singing birds and other wonderful creatures. The air was so fresh and clean that I felt as though my very soul had taken my lungs' place, with each breath cleansing my once sinful mind and purging all the problems of my previous, earthly life.\n\n\"Hey over there!\" a woman shouted from the edge of the forest, perhaps two miles away. It amazed me that her voice crossed such a distance. I didn't think to call back, but instead made my way toward her and was there in mere seconds. \n\n\"Hello,\" I said to the beautiful woman in front of me. \"This is Heaven.\"\n\n\"It is, isn't it?\" she said, the wind gently shuffling her golden hair. \"We can reside in peace here....or take another kind of leisure?\"\n\nHer smile said more than words ever could, and we made love to the tune of sparrows and owls. An hour or a month may have passed in those moments until my new companion, whose name I didn't know and cared not to learn, said, \"There are only a few of us here.\"\n\nI laughed and said, \"In all the millions of years and trillions of human lives spread throughout our galaxy? And the hundreds of trillions of alien lives that are known to exist throughout the neighboring galaxies?\"\n\n\"Is it so many, now?\"\n\n\"Why yes! And there should be at least billions, if not trillions, populating this place after death.\"\n\n\"You bring our number to sixteen.\"\n\n\"Sixteen billion? That's all?\" I was incredulous, shocked, that so few throughout history had failed the test of the feather. Was life really so sinful?\n\n\"Only sixteen. One, two, three, and the rest until we are now sixteen in number. I come from Hellas, and was the fourth.\"\n\n\"This can't be! It can't!\"\n\n\"Shh...\" My angel rolled over on the grass to face me, with her head resting on her elbow. \"It is not so bad. We have each other, and you must learn to make peace with that alone.\"\n\n\"No, no!\" I stood and backed away, as though my angel had become a demon. Perhaps she was, if only in my mind. \"But why? Why us?\"\n\n\"That, my love, is a question that no one has an answer to and is therefore best left unasked.\"\n\nThe idea of such eternal loneliness crushed my mind and frustration screamed out of me. I ran with no direction and eventually no sight, for all became black.\n\n___________________________\n\nI woke eventually, back in the judgment room. \"Wha-what's going on?\" I asked. The intense stress of the first judgment was too much for me to take a second time.\n\n\"I had a feeling that a human so far advanced in the simulation would not be able to live well in the afterlife,\" the booming voice said, again with no discernible source. \"You have no safe home, and for this I am sorry.\"\n\n\"What? A simulation?\"\n\n\"Yes, and although it is very rare, so rare as to happen only as eons are measured, there is sometimes an awakening. A bot will suddenly gain a soul, which was certainly not the intent of the program. When that happens, they are placed here, in Heaven.\"\n\n\"A bot? You're saying that everyone I knew and loved in life: my parents, my wife, my children, and the few friends who stuck with me over decades...all of them....all of them were...\"\n\n\"Bots. Simulations. Unreal, computer-generated automatons. Only you were real, and the same goes for the fifteen who now live in Heaven. I cannot place you there, and I cannot once again give you life.\"\n\n\"So...what happens?\"\n\n\"You will be lifted to our world, or destroyed. You must undergo the trial either way, but it is your choice as you may succeed or fail that trial.\"\n\n\"Well...I guess wish me luck.\" I was nervous and worried, but mostly just empty. Dying and finding out that I was the only real person throughout my life just made me...tired. \"I'm ready for anything at this point.\"\n\n\"Good luck,\" the voice said. A doorway opened, revealing darkness.\n\nEND (edited to fix 2 typos)",
"\"Welcome to Heaven!\" the small crowd of people shouted in unison as Jack walked through the shining golden gates. In the distance Jack could see monumental buildings of white stone stretching into thick clouds. To the right, a theme park with a massive Ferris wheel slowly rotated. \n\n\"Uh, thanks,\" Jack said shyly, he was never one for crowds and parties.\n\n\"We are going to take you on the GRAND tour!\" Cynthia exclaimed sidling up next to Jack. \n\n\"Oh?\" \n\nCynthia grabbed his arm and dragged him deeper into heaven. \n\n\"Over here is where we all live,\" she said pointing toward the massive building. On further inspection it looked like a giant apartment building. Each apartment had its own grand balcony of white marble, giant windows looked out across the beautifully manicured grounds. \n\n\"Your room is right next to mine,\" Cynthia whispered into his ear with a hint of mischievousness in her voice.\n\nJack shot a concerned glance at her.\n\n\"What? We're already in heaven, might as well have some fun!\" she said tugging him forward. The others still trailed them from a short distance.\n\n\"Why are they following us?\" Jack asked.\n\n\"Well, they are bored, and you are new! This is all very exciting. It has been...Samuel how long has it been since the last newcomer?\" she asked over her shoulder.\n\n\"Bout, one hundred years give er take,\" the mustached Samuel answered. He was wearing leather chaps, spurred cowboy boots, and a pistol on his hip. \n\n\"Wait, I'm the newest member of heaven in the last one hundred years?\" Jack asked skeptically.\n\n\"Yup!\"\n\n\"So, this is everyone in heaven?\" Jack gestured to the small crowd.\n\n\"Correct again, you are so smart Jack,\" Cynthia said with a sly smile.\n\nThey walked around the rest of heaven inspecting the theme park, Heavenland, and visiting a small cafe for lunch. The food was delicious and Jack ordered an extra helping of ambrosia. \n\n\"So, this is what you guys do everyday?\" Jack asked Cynthia.\n\n\"Yeah pretty much.\"\n\n\"It's a little boring...\" Jack said around a mouthful of food.\n\n\"It can be. Would it make you feel better if you got to see what was going on in hell?\" she asked.\n\n\"Yeah!\"\n\n*It's gotta be worse than this,* Jack thought to himself as they left the small cafe and walked to the city center. A large crystal orb sat in a pair of white marble hands. \n\n\"Just put your hand on it and it will do the rest,\" she said and began to walk away.\n\n\"You are leaving?\" he asked.\n\n\"This is something that should be seen alone.\"\n\nJack nodded and turned to the crystal orb. He reached out a shaking hand and placed it on the orb. It was warm to the touch, in a blinding flash a picture began to form. Jack could not believe what he was seeing, but he couldn't pull his eyes away. He watched the events unfold in horror.\n\nBeautiful women in tiny bathing suits ran around the pool shooting at each other with squirt guns. Men and women were drinking colorful mixed drinks and laughing on lounge chairs basking in the sun. Jack was pretty sure he saw people doing a copious amount of drugs on a small glass table. Everyone was having the time of their lives. \n\nJack looked around the empty, bleached white heaven.\n\n\"Dammit...\"\n\n---\n\nThanks for reading! Check out /r/Written4Reddit\n\n"
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[WP] Every planet has its own separate afterlife. You are the first person to die on Mars.
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"\"Clear for exit, Collins,\" a voice cracked over the radio comm in Chuck Collins' space suit. The form-fitting suit sat on Chuck's sleek frame. It mostly consisted of a faded red color, but had dark black accentuating lines, defining the seams sealed to perfection. A tinted glass helmet covered his head, projecting an assortment of data and charts in his field of vision.\n\n\"Exiting Mars Base 1, Control\" stated Collins, almost melodically. \"Another day, another joy ride on the red planet,\" he added, an upbeat tone in his voice. He tapped a button on the wall of the compression chamber and a door to the outside rose open quickly.\n\n\"You sound awfully happy today, Chuck,\" the voice in his comm said.\n\n\"I just woke up on the right side of the bed, I guess,\" answered Chuck as he strolled to the rover a few feet away from the door. He stopped to appreciate the mesmerizing view of the red sky, the large red mountains only added to the beauty of the life painting before him. \"And why shouldn't I be happy? It's such a nice day. Not a cloud in the sky.\"\n\n\"Well, enjoy your ride, Collins,\" the voice said pleasantly.\n\n\"Will do, Control,\" said Chuck with a smile. \"I'll check in with you again in an hour,\" he added, opening the door to the rover. He pulled himself up and dropped into the driver's seat while letting the door close on its own. As he pushed the ignition button, he turned his eye to the right, waiting for a particular readout to reach one hundred percent. Currently at ninety-four, he placed his hands at the bottom of his helmet, ready to remove it.\n\nAlarms blared and Collins' eyes widened. Something was wrong. \"Control,\" he called. \"I'm experiencing-\"\n\nA huge explosion engulfed the rover.\n\n\"Collins!\" a broken voice called. \"Are *bzzzzz* kay? Repeat- *dzzzzz* respond!\" The voice faded away.\n\n\"Welcome,\" a new voice said in the darkness.\n\nChuck looked around as everything lit itself into view. Red, misty clouds could be seen in all directions and served as a ground where he was standing. Several gray, thin figures stood before him, unlike anything he'd ever seen before. Their legs and arms extended down longer than their torsos and giant, magical eyes made up most of their faces. The irises resembled sunsets back on Earth.\n\n\"You must be confused,\" the lead being said, softly. \"We will answer any questions you have.\"\n\n\"What happened?\" asked Chuck, not quite sure he wasn't dreaming.\n\n\"Your roving vehicle experienced a malfunction,\" the being said. \"You died.\"\n\n\"I'm *dead*?\" he asked.\n\nThe being looked to the others and back toward Chuck. \"Yes, can you hear me OK?\"\n\n\"I'm just having a hard time dealing with this all,\" he answered. \"So, who are you? And where are my grandparents?\"\n\n\"My name is Malala. You are the first human being we've ever met.\"\n\nChuck scanned the beings up and down. \"You're the first- whatever you are- I've ever met. I'm Chuck. Chuck Collins.\"\n\n\"We have all died long before you arrived, Chuck Chuck Collins,\" said Malala.\n\n\"Just Chuck.\" He noticed a small opening in the red clouds below him, giving him a picture of Mars Base 1. \"Say, can I return below?\"\n\n\"Of course, Just Chuck,\" smiled Malala. \"However, you cannot interact with any of your previous companions, unfortunately.\"\n\n\"That's what they always say,\" said Chuck with a smirk. \"But I've seen enough ghost movies to know there's always a way.\"\n\n---\n\n*Check out /r/MajorParadox for more of my writing :)*",
"You know the saying \"All dogs go to heaven?\" Well so do all martians but, just like dogs, we have a different heaven. One detached from that of Earth. Separate. Alone. Just rows and rows and rows of hollow doors. I stare at them and sometimes I feel that they stare back at me.\n\nSheila, my guardian angel, walked me to my door, it wasn't a far walk. I, being the first death on Mars, get door number one which is specifically tailored to be my personal heaven. All the desires and dreams and wishes that I want deep down inside can be found in that room. Thing is though, I don't know if I believe in a deep down or, could be, that I am scared to know my deepest desires. Maybe that's why I haven't opened the door yet. As for all the other doors, right now they are empty. Blank slates to one day be painted with by the death of future men. If anymore men try to make it to Mars that is.\n\nI feel like Sheila resents me because my place of passing affected her as well. She was forced to transfer here from Earth and leave behind all the friends she had made. She is now the lone angel of heaven and I am the lone man. The two of us just sit most days and talk. We talk about everything. When you're the only two people in heaven you'll figure out a way to be friends. Maybe that's why I haven't opened the door yet. When I leave Sheila will have nothing to do but watch me enjoy my biggest fantasies while she waits for another human to die on Mars so that another angel can be brought here. After want happen though she may have a long wait.\n\nI was part of the first group of settlers sent to colonize Mars. I know sounds like a sci-fi cliché. Well here's another cliché. The voyage didn't go as planned. Out of the three ships sent mine was the only one not to be torn apart by engine failure before passing the 1.5 AU mark. That meant that only the thirty men and women on my ship would complete the journey. Or so we though. We suffered engine failure a few minutes before Mar's gravity would begin to pull on us. I was in the cockpit while the other 29 members were tending to matter in the main halls of the ship. The explosion started suddenly and ripped through like a mudslide.\n\nThey all died instantly.\n\nLuckily for me, or maybe unluckily, the cockpit is air-locked separately so I, in my personal metal pod, was propelled to mars. Becoming the first man to die there. I just wish it hadn't been on impact. Maybe that's why I haven't opened the door yet. If Mars and Earth have their own separate heavens then where did my 89 comrades who died in transit go? Did they go to the Earth heaven? Did they go to the heaven of the void? Or are they all just gone, their eternal souls forced to wander space while the unfilled solar wind rips them to shreds.\n\nI don't know.\n\nIt's probably been about twenty years now. Maybe the living are planning another trek to Mars but I don't know if they're going to risk it after losing so many the first time. When, or if, someone claims door number two and Sheila finally gets another angel to talk to... I'll start thinking about opening my door... and facing my deepest desires. As for now though I have to go. Sheila is going to tell me the story about the time she met James Franco again.\n\n\n-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\n\nCheck Out My Blog for More Stories: https://butterfliesmachineguns.wordpress.com/\n\n\n\n\nAnd thank you kindly for reading,\n\nTag Poin",
"\"You're not dreaming.\"\n\nIt came to me clear as a bell. Although it was difficult to place it as something said out loud or thoughts in my head, I understood the message.\n\nMy surroundings were strange enough that I could've initially thought I was in a dream, but there was a quality of existence here that I connected to consciously, and I wasn't afraid. Even though it was so dark I could only make out shapes the moonlight touched, I still wasn't afraid. I didn't feel much of anything.\n\nThe shadows were deep in this place, and seemed to have a bloody hue that was more of an essence than a visible colour. Each shadowed, recessed corner of the room (or was it a desert?) throbbed darkly, feeling like loud silence demanding my attention. The throb matched another sensation I felt. A humming, or a great movement, coming from somewhere deep. Somewhere distant.\n\nI looked across the plains (room?) and saw great, expansive shapes made from varying tones in the blackened burgundy hue that surrounded me. The horizon was formed by moonlight catching on soft peaks, deft flicks of translucent pale from a small brush. As I studied the landscape, my eyes began to adjust. \n\nThe wooden floor beneath me felt dusted, a fine coating of almost powder-like sand underneath my fingertips. It stuck to my fingers keenly, like static attracting dust. More physical sensations came to me slowly- my physical form, naked, and yet comfortable; the weight of hair on my head, gone; the tempered, closed silence like snowfall at midnight; the distant humming finding its place comfortably within that silence; the lack of temperature or wind - unusual, not disconcerting, but accepted.\n\nThe bell sounds again. \n\n\"Stand.\"\n\nI rise smoothly, without effort or exertion, and feel my physical presence is both enclosed by and much greater than the small wooden room. A sense of doubling blooms in my gut and time disappears. Dateless, deathless, everlasting.",
"I learned that machines can mess up like a human when I crash landed on Mars. I attempted to contact Houston, but my transmission emitter had broken in the crash. I sat around, scared for my life as I waited until my oxygen failed. Well, that was quick.\n\n\n\nI startled, my eyelids opened to see... wood. It took a few seconds before I realized I must had dreamt that...... but wait that's way too cliche! I rose, surprised by both my location and the fact that my neck didn't feel cramped from lack of a pillow. I was in a workshop \n\n\"Howdy\"\n\nThrowing a punch behind me, a man was standing there outside of fist range. Before me stood a man in a grey jumpsuit, with a black short cut. He was wearing insulated gloves and a toolbelt, nicely outfitted with tools. His face seemed greased, hell he might've been Jerry who works at the repair shop I go to. Feeling like I had stopped giving a shit about consequences, I asked \"Jerry?\"\n\nHe chuckled and replied \"No no, you may refer to me as 'God'. \n\nWell, I guess the Catholics were right. \n\n\"Wait hang on, I'm not going to Hell?\"\n\nHe rolled his eyes and answered \"Why would I do that?\". I figured he's got that question a lot, and I dropped the matter. I did a 360 of the workshop and noticed two desks, one old and weathered, and one brand new with tools set on it. \n\nI pointed to the desks, turned to 'God', and asked \"Okay, why am I here?\"\n\n\"To do work\" he chuckled as he grabbed my shoulder and lead me to the new bench. \n\nOn closer inspection, I noticed a sort of small black mist hovering on top of the desk. Leaning in, I turned to God with an eyebrow raised, and he nodded. Together, we chanted \"Let there be light\". \n\n"
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[WP] Write like you're hypnotizing the reader.
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"He sat in a simple, plain room. The grandfather clock in the corner ticked away. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.\n\nThe walls of the room were a pale, off-white color, almost pale yellow. There's a flower vase with a single daisy sitting on the table in front of him. With each breath he could smell it.\n\nIn. Out. In. Out. In. Out.\n\nHe's in his favorite chair. A real, nice, comfy chair. The cushions fit him just right. The window is right next to him. Outside is warm sunshine, a cool soft breeze. Birds chirping.\n\nIn his lap is a single card. There are letters on that card, small thick letters. He can't read them from there, so he brings it up a bit. Slowly, he tries to get it close enough so he can read.\n\nCloser, closer.\n\nThe letters are finally getting clear. The letters are \"S\", \"L\", \"E\", \"E\", \"P\".\n\nSleep.\n\n(I just remembered the hypnotism scene from Stir of Echoes. Like, it was the first thing that came to mind.)"
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[WP] God is real. He's just kind of an asshole with a sick sense of humor, your an atheist meeting him.
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"\"God?\"\n\n\"Yes?\"\n\n\"When did you forget to mention you were kind of an asshole?\"\n\n\"Oh, I've mentioned it before. Just never to you. You always get the worst of my plans, nothing more. I want you to suffer, being the atheist you are, and I will never revoke my silence to you. I will never greet you in heaven, in fact, I will curse you to hell.\"\n\n\"Wait, where's your sick sense of humor?\"\n\n\"Where does it say I have a sick sense of humor?\"\n\n\"There, up top. In the prompt headline. It says 'with a sick sense of humor.'\"\n\n\"Oh. Well.\" God thought for a moment. \"I could give my kingdom casual Fridays.\" \n\n\"I'm a goner.\""
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[WP] Write a story about a ship, make sure it could be set in both the 19th and 24th century without changing anything.
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"When a man dedicates his life to something, it creates something greater than himself. In time, it is hard to remember the man was ever a mere human. My father had been the Explorer, but in death he was smaller, creased and wrinkled and worn out. He had never looked old until now. Without the sharp brightness of his eyes, it was hard to even recognize him. \n\n\nLong before this, long before I stood on the fore-deck and watched weary men recite the old prayers, I had grown up in England. My father had found me a model of one of the great ships, I remember, when I was very young. I'd play with it, swinging it through the air. \"Papa\", I'd say, \"will you take me with you someday?\" He'd laugh, picking me up. \"There's nowhere you can't go, love.\"\n\n\nNowhere I can't go... and now I was here, somewhere out in the great unknown, so far from home. I watched as the men wrapped my father's body in a clean white cloth, reverently, gently. There was no way to give him a proper burial out here, and it was a fitting end for him– a voyager to the last. As my father's body slipped past the starboard side and disappeared into the dark expanse, I wept for the greatest man I had ever known.",
"Pain isn’t fear.\n\n“Join me on the adventure of a lifetime,” captain had said. Hah. What may have started out as a journey to adventure had dissolved into a full-scale mutiny within days of setting off from the port.\n\nRolf had gone to his cabin below deck early last night due to a splitting headache that had pounded all thought out of his mind and filled it, instead, with a dull, throbbing pain.\n\nAfter what felt like only seconds of sleep Rolf opened his bloodshot eyes to the firm grasp of a filthy, grime encrusted hand smelling of rum on his nightshirt before another hand came down and punched him in the gut.\n\nA spasm of pain echoed throughout his body from his already bruising stomach as another fist slammed into him knocking all breath out of his lungs. Choking for breath, Rolf writhed in his hammock and tried to cry out but couldn’t manage to find the breath to do so.\n\nThe world erupted as fists rained down pain that decimated Rolf’s body as a volcano erupts magma that decimates the surrounding area. The fists were relentlessly destroying his cocooned, soft form. Rolf couldn’t say how much time had passed. Whether it had only been ten seconds or ten minutes, life was suffering.\n\nThen, miraculously, the beating halted. An evil smile over a grizzly red beard swam into Rolf’s watery vision. The big burly man attached to the beard leered at Rolf as he helplessly shook because of the pain of his bruises and then was pained because he was shaking from the pain of his bruises. Rolf swallowed his pain as he looked the behemoth of Ar-Rann in the eye. He took a deep breath to collect himself before he rasped out wheezily: “You’ll hang for this Rollo.”\n\n“Somehow I don’t think so first mate,” sneered Rollo to his cronies. “You and that shit-for-brains captain are going to go overboard.”\n\nPain isn’t fear.\n\nRolf had been beaten many times before, never like this maybe, but no sailor worth their salt would call him a novice to pain. He had not felt fear during the whole beating because if they wanted to kill him he knew that they could have done so by some easy, sure proof method such as cutting his throat or shooting him in the head while he slept. \n\nRolf’s eyes widened in true fear for the first time and in response, Rollo’s narrowed in excited anticipation as he watched Rolf's face intently even as he spoke to his goons surrounding the hammock, “Send this whelp into the abyss.”\n\nPanic rose in Rolf’s chest as he considered the idea that he would soon be on the other side of the hull of the boat. The former boss of this savage mutineer looked into the flushed, excitement of that hateful face than spat at it. “You will kill me here like a man!” Rolf shouts as Rollo gives a cry of outrage and draws the large war-axe strapped across his back.\n\nRolf is not the sort of man that would go meekly into that cold, consuming void. He smiled and closed his eyes as the ax descended. An angry foe makes for a good, quick death. Not anything like that cold abyss which will swallow a man whole and prevent him from returning to his comfortable, oxygenated realm. Rolf was ready for the pain to end even if he wasn't ready for whatever came next. But why was the pain still there?\n\nHe waited a few more seconds then slowly opened his eyes and felt his mouth drop in shock at the scene of carnage before his eyes. There was blood covering the walls of his cabin and the dead bodies-well-they must have been bodies but now there was just a mess of limbs, torsos, and heads on the floor. A lone, slender woman stared into Rolf’s eyes before collapsing onto a bended knee. A blossom of red bloomed out from her white blouse, staining it further by the second as she looked unshakingly into Rolf’s eye and gave him the gift and the burden of her last words, “Pain isn’t fear.\" She sunk to both knees and collapsed onto her lifeblood with a final request on her dying lips.\"Save the boy.”",
"As the ship sailed into port, James felt the rise in his throat and thrill in his chest he always felt seeing land again after being out in the open for so long. He'd been gone from decent civilization for far too long, and it would be a good while before he could repair the *Sunsetter* enough to sail off on journeys again. Oh, on the *surface* she was fine- as incredible as the day he'd finished her construction and christened her. But there were so many little things here and there on her that added up...\n\nHe'd gotten lucky, he knew, managing to avoid the pirates that had been plaguing the trade routes for ages. The cargo he carried was worth more than its weight in gold - a price he'd make sure he got, as he knew he was the first ship to make it through the pirate-infested gauntlet *with* cargo intact in at least six months, if not longer.\n\n\"Shall I anchor us, sire?\" His cabin boy Amos was a good lad, even with those soul-piercing blue eyes that still gave James the willies once in a while after all their travels together, and James gave him an indulgent smile.\n\n\"Bit early for that yet, lad. We've got to queue for inspection and check our freight in first.\"\n\n\"Aye aye, sire.\" Amos nodded almost stiffly before heading off to do other work with that strange lopsided gait. There was enough to do in that regard!\n\nA small ship made its way next to them, anchoring itself as two men held up badges. \"Freight inspection! Please anchor yourself immediately. We're sending over our paperwork and request permission to board once it meets with your approval.\" The smaller of the two men gave James a grin after he finished speaking before he continued in a more relaxed tone. \"Hell of a job, by the way. Everyone at the port's buzzing about you- first ship without damage we've seen in a good, long while.\"\n\n\"So I hear, so I hear.\" James nodded and shrugged as he looked over the papers the pair had tossed aboard after tossing his anchor. \"Looks good enough for me. Just be forewarned if there are any shenanigans my cabin boy, well...he's *protective* of me, shall we say? Perhaps overly so.\" He tossed the papers back and hauled over a plank that he laid between the two vessels at an angle. \"Permission to board granted.\"\n\nThe two men boarded and looked around. \"Really *not* a scratch on you,\" stated the taller of the pair with a great deal of surprise. \"I'd think you'd paid the pirates off if we didn't know for a fact they don't negotiate.\"\n\n\"I've my ways,\" replied James, a twinkle in his eye. \"And no, the pirates can go bugger themselves, I won't give them anything even if they asked politely, which they wouldn't.\"\n\nThis got a laugh out of the pair. \"Just so. Well, let's have a look at the cargo, shall we?\" asked the shorter one. \"Feel free to stay armed if you want, we don't blame you in this region.\"\n\n\"'Preciate that. I believe I will.\" James nodded and rustled the aged, but well-maintained sword at his side a bit before he opened the belowdeck door. \"After you two. Don't be shy.\" James couldn't help but notice how frequently the smaller of the pair was reaching for a handkerchief to wipe his brow.\n\n\n*\"The smaller one is nervous, overly so, sire.\"* Amos almost half-breathed the sentence into James's neck as they headed downstairs behind the two, his tone so quiet James almost hadn't picked it up over the sounds of multiple pairs of feet heading downstairs. \n\nIf there was one thing James knew, it was that Amos read people like a book. *\"Aye lad, bit too jumpy for my taste, he is. We may have some problems ahead. Get ready.\"*\n\nAmos's eerie eyes flashed for just a moment before he nodded wordlessly, his posture changing in a fraction of a second from completely relaxed to totally on guard, though neither of the two men in front noticed it.\n\n*I warned them,* thought James with a shrug as he brought his sword slowly closer and closer to his side. *No doubt both on the pirate's payroll in case any good cargo slips by them, or something like that.*\n\nWell, *his* cargo would make it safely to land, that was for certain. The *Sunsetter* needed her repairs, after all, and Amos had that odd, persistent limp that needed to be looked at...",
"Fourteen months and twelve days had passed since the Red Orchid first set off on her maiden voyage. She was sent with a crew of fifty men to explore the uncharted territories of the new world. \n\nThis voyage was only supposed to last a year. Two more months of travel was the rustling in the galley. Due to an error in solar navigation, Captain Norris claimed we travelled several thousand clicks off course. Most of the crew think Captain Norris' word is as strong as the hull of this one-of-a-kind ship. However, some of us believe he is experiencing isolation sickness. No one claims to have seen him for the past seventeen days.\n\nThe days turned into weeks, then the weeks into a month and finally we reached our destination. As approached the edge of the new world, Captain Norris emerged from his cabin frantical screaming, \"We must turn back!!!\"",
"From Queen's song, \"['39](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kE8kGMfXaFU)\":\n\n>In the year of '39 assembled here the Volunteers, \n>In the days when lands were few, \n>Here the ship sailed out into the blue and sunny morn, \n>The sweetest sight ever seen.\n>\n>And the night followed day, \n>And the story tellers say, \n>That the score brave souls inside, \n>For many a lonely day sailed across the milky seas, \n>Never looked back, never feared, never cried.\n>\n>Don't you hear my call though you're many years away, \n>Don't you hear me calling you, \n>Write your letters in the sand, \n>For the day I take your hand, \n>In the land that our grandchildren knew.\n>\n>In the year of '39 came a ship in from the blue, \n>The volunteers came home that day, \n>And they bring good news of a world so newly born, \n>Though their hearts so heavily weigh, \n>\n>For the earth is old and grey, little darling we'll away, \n>But my love this cannot be, \n>For so many years have gone though I'm older but a year, \n>Your mother's eyes from your eyes cry to me.\n>\n>Don't you hear my call though you're many years away, \n>Don't you hear me calling you, \n>Write your letters in the sand, \n>For the day I take your hand, \n>In the land that our grandchildren knew.\n>\n>Don't you hear my call though you're many years away, \n>Don't you hear me calling you, \n>All your letters in the sand cannot heal me like your hand.\n>\n>For my life, \n>Still ahead, \n>Pity Me.\n\nThis was actually written by Queen's lead guitaris Brian May, who also happens to be an astrophysicist.\n\nThe story plots around the time dilation effect: A group of space explorers sail away in search of a new planet earth. From their perspective, the journey is just a year long, but thanks to Einstein's special relativity effect, much more than a year has passed in real earth (*\"For so many years have gone though I'm older but a year\"*). Also note that they sail on the year '39, and come back on the year of 39' as well... That gives a hint that something else is going on (Maybe what meant a year for them, was exactly a century from real earth's perspective).\n\n"
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[WP] ...and Darwin wept
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"Darwin knew that something had happened. \n\nThat day, the other park rangers were quiet and sad. A lot more than usual came to visit Darwin, and a lot of them had tears in their eyes. They regular people still came to give him his meals, but she didn't come. Only her friends came to try to figure out how to communicate with him. Darwin wondered where she was. Wondered what all these things meant. \n\nOver the next few days, it seemed like all of the rangers came to play with Darwin. He was excited to see some of his favorite. Especially the ones he only saw a few times. He was wary of a few of the ones he had never seen before. But everyone was nice to him, and soon he was okay playing with any of the rangers. \n\nThose were happy days. Climbing up trees together, jumping from branch to branch, playing catch. They played all the games the Darwin knew, especially the ones he was good at. They smiled and laughed, but when they left, they seemed sad. It made sense for the ones who didn't come to see him often, but the people he hadn't met before? \n\nAnd when her friends came to try and communicated with him, they didn't play the games that he couldn't win or the ones he had only won a few times. This time they let him choose the games he wanted to play. The one with the wooden shapes was his favorite, and it seemed like they played that game over and over. Darwin won almost every time, and they would hug him and scratch behind his ears. And when they left, they too would seem sad. \n\nSome of Darwin's happiest days, and he was confused why everyone else was sad. What was he missing? \n\nThen one day, her friends came and led Darwin onto one of the trucks. They were all wearing their ranger uniforms. That was different, too. \n\nWhen the trucks stopped, they had stopped at one of Darwin's favorite places. It was a small grove of trees on a hilltop that she would bring him to often. Where they would play together and try to talk to each other. He loved this place so much. But she wasn't there. \n\nIt was the first time he really noticed her absence. There had been times before when she had left for days or weeks. But everytime she came back. But Darwin had never been to the grove without her. \n\nTwo of the rangers led Darwin through a crowd of people surrounding a wooden box. Darwin looked around at all the faces. Most of them were rangers he knew, or at least he knew they were rangers from their uniform. But there were also a lot of strange people wearing black and white.\n\nWhen the rangers made it throught he crowd, they led Darwin to the box. He tapped it a few times, then looked inside. \n\nShe lay there. Dressed in white, her eyes closed. Darwin was so happy. Finally, here she was. Darwin knew that if he was going tot he grove, she would be there with him. He smiled up at the rangers and pointed at her. Instead of smiling back they hid their eyes. \n\nDarwin was puzzled. He looked back at her. She was just laying there. He pushed her once, twice, again and again trying to wake her up. He banged on the coffin and tried to make noise the way that she didn't like him to. A few people tried to step in, but the rangers held them back. Darwin would take a scolding from her if it meant she would talk to him again. \n\nHe went on like that until his arms got tired and he could feel his insides twist. Finally, he gave up. Finally, he understood. She was gone, and Darwin wept. \n\n___\n\n*Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed my work, you can see more at /r/chrisbryant!* "
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Can be literal or metaphorical.
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[WP] My every heartbeat dims the sun
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"I thought I'd tell the world to end, \nand hide away, alone. \nSo I built for me a castle, \nand for my children, home. \n\nI built my dream efficiently, \nand I wasted not a crumb. \nI gathered what I could to keep, \nand made what I could not. \n\nI slaved away, and through my tears, \nI saw my dream had grown. \nBut what I'd built is what I feared, \nI've wasted all I'd known. \n\nI thought for just a moment, \nI could celebrate my home. \nI could waste now, just a little, \nfor some comfort in my bones. \n\nBut every time my guard would slip, \nit slipped a little more. \nAnd with every passive, lazy sip, \nmore wine began to pour. \n\nAt last I see my failing error, \nso at least my wicked deeds are done, \nbut it's far too late to stop my terror - \nthe smog from every heartbeat dims the sun."
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[WP] "What do you mean, 'it's not there'?!"
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"\"It's not there.\"\n\n\"What do you mean, it's not there?\"\n\n\"I mean, it's not there.\"\n\n\"Okay. Tell me exactly what you mean, it's not there.\"\n\n\"Exactly. It's. Not. There.\"\n\n\"You do realize how ridiculous you sound, right?\"\n\n\"I'm not the one repeatedly asking the same question. You do realize that the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over, expecting different results, right?\"\n\n\"So, now I'm insane?\"\n\n\"If the shoe fits...\"\n\n\"Where is it?\"\n\n\"It's not there.\"\n\n\"You are really starting to piss me off.\"\n\n\"Sorry.\"\n\n\"Ok. So if it's not there, where is it?\"\n\n\"It's here.\"\n\n\"Why in the hell didn't you just tell me that?\"\n\n\"You didn't ask.\"",
"\"What do you mean, it's not there!?\" I yelled over the phone\n\n\"It's just not there, The baby's gone.\" My wife cried\n\n\"Did you call the police?\" I asked her\n\n\"Yes! But will it help?\" She was literally sobbing now.\n\n\"Just calm down honey, I'm sure the police can sort this out\" I tried to reassure her, knowing that it won't work.\n\n\"CALM DOWN!? HOW CAN I CALM DOWN?\" She shouted\n\n\"I know it isn't much hun. But all we can do now is pray and hope for the best, just like we did last time\" I said with regret in my voice."
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[WP] Books are illegal in an "untechnological" world, they're all gone out of print and you're just about to meet your book dealer.
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"Darting across the street and into a well-lit alley (because there aren't dark ones anymore), my heart is hammering in my chest. The Green Police, with their forest green berets and tazers spitting blue electrical fire are bound to catch on to my futile attempts at sneaky. \n\nI'm not sneaky.\n\n*I'm a ninja in the night... So quiet.* I keep repeating this mantra in my mind, knowing that it is doing very little to slow my breathing, however it does conjure the thought of ninjas, and that distracts me from my current dangerous situation. Ninjas are pretty cool. I'd date a ninja. \n\n*FOCUS*\n\nDeep breathes. Two more sprints and a dash and I'd be safe in Ho-Lee Mo-Lee's Chinese Restaurant and VR Gift Shop.\n\nSneaking around the corner, I desperately try to blend. My long brown hair isn't exactly kosher with today's super short pixie cuts of neon colors. My tweed skirt doesn't mesh with the plastics and vinyl skin tight fashions of most girls my age, and I wear glasses though my eyesight - like everyone else's - is perfect. I'm probably the human embodiment of 'bookish'. Which makes me very suspicious since tonight I'm going to buy.... *gulp* MY FIRST BOOK.\n\nThinking back, my rational mind wars with my emotional dreamy side. I want to experience the smell of the pages that my grandmother fondly recounts. I want to feel the history in the pages touched by so many other hands that enjoyed the story inside it. I want to feel connected to what I'm reading, something that I simply don't feel using my hologram. The fact I know how to read at all is unusual for my age. I'm told my over exuberant curiosity is also unusual. The curiosity that could get this kitty killed.\n\nMy rational brain, the brain that understands this world and gets why books are illegal, thinks I'm an idiot. A cruel individual who only cares about her own human experience. Trees are precious. The paper is our life source. There are so few left. Why am I such a twit?!\n\nMaybe I should turn around? Ho-Lee would understand. \n\nNo. I'm going to read a book.\n\nI dart through the streets. My apprehension is sure to give me away. Walking behind an older couple going into Ho-Lee's I think I'll blend in as a family unit.\n\nThere they are.\n\nThree uniformed Green Police. They look tough. Tougher than old Ho-Lee who appears to be sweating through his plastic apron. When he sees me, he looks both sad and relieved. His arm raises and he points. He points at me.\n\nWell, as my grandmother use to say, \"Fuck me.\"\n\nI run. \n\nBut I know I cant run far enough. "
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[WP] You owe someone a debt. They've come to collect. They're not how you remember them.
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"Ellya lay against a great Willow next to the rivers edge on a thick bed of moss. The ancient tree's huge arms rocked lazily back and forth above her, as calming as a Sunday morning. The sweet smell of lavender and the whistling of a Thrush put the elf into a state of calm tranquillity. She closed her eyes and allowed the gentle lapping of the river to take her thoughts, and then her dreams, gently homeward.\n\nShe awoke to a thick, unnatural darkness. The moon, if it was there at all, was fully covered and there was a silence in the air. Even the river seemed afraid to make a sound. She felt a chill penetrate her bones and she shivered.\n\nEllya quickly sat up and instinctively moved her hands to the Ash bow that lay on the moss beside her. Only, there was no bow. She felt for her small dagger but that too was missing. She slowly stood and quietly backed herself against the Willows trunk.\n\nShe felt the presence before she saw the figure. A blackness visible even in the dark of the night. It glided towards her. Two crescent eyes shot open and shone like tiny fires of hate; a warning in the darkness.\n\nThe cold grew as the wraith approached. It left a trail of untouched frozen grass beneath it. \n\nIt drifted towards the tree and as it reached Ellya it lifted a midnight arm towards her face. \n\nEllya quickly shifted her body, avoiding the creatures touch, and struck its neck with the side of her palm. The creature did not flinch but Ellya felt a hideous pain run through her hand and into her body. She crumpled to the floor. The figure moved forward and loomed over her. \n\nA bolt of lightning cut through the darkness and was followed by a roar of thunder that made the ground beneath Ellya shake. The wraith turned to see a figure with a flaming staff approaching. The wraith moved towards the newcomer. Ellya saw another great flash and heard a terrible roar before her head grew dizzy and her eyes shut.\n\nShe awoke to moonlight. She was still under the Willow but the atmosphere had changed. She heard the river running behind her and the air, whilst not warm, was no longer chill. Her bow was back beside her. She sat up and reached out for it but found her right hand unresponsive.\n\n\"It will come back.\" said a deep voice. \"At least, partly.\" She looked behind her to see a young man with long dark hair in a tawny brown cloak, holding a gnarled oak staff. He smiled at her. \n\n\"What was it?\" Ellya asked in a weak voice.\n\n\"Something more ancient than even yourself.\" replied Moraise, smiling.\n\nTheir gazes met and held for a moment. \n\n\"I owe you my life.\" Ellya said.\n\n\"Yes. You do.\" came the reply.\n\n---\n\nIt was the night of Ellya's birthmoon. The elf sat alone by the ocean and gazed longingly at the horizon as the remains of broken waves gently kissed her feet. Her leather boots sat safe behind her and her ivy green leggings were rolled up to just below her knees. The smell of a nearby Photinia drifted easily on the sea breeze.\n\nShe heard the slow knocking of a staff long before she saw the man. \n\nHe was ancient. Thin white hair draped over his face, slightly obscuring his pox marked features. She recognised the wizard despite his changes.\n\nUsing his staff to aid him, he lowered himself beside the elf. \n\nEllya sensed something different about him other than his appearance. Something darker. Her gloved arm began to pain her and she clutched at it with the other.\n\n\"I have come for what I am owed.\" came a croaky voice from within a toothy smile. Ellya became more afraid than she had been the night they had first met.\n\n"
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[WP] Following the death of his mother and the loss of his father to the Dark Side, Obi-Wan and Yoda agree the safest place in the galaxy to leave Luke is with his only remaining family - the Dursleys.
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"The world looked like a dirty spot far below them. Obi-Wan Kenobi, he of the unbreakable defence, and Yoda, he of the undecipherable grammar, stood and watched as the ship approached a tiny island floating off the mainland.\n\n\"We should get the cloaking device up,\" Obi-Wan said. He shuffled slowly, pushing his robes about, before he cleared his throat again. \"Master...Master Yoda? Are you sure this is the right course of action?\"\n\nMaster Yoda inhaled deeply, the way he always did when he was about to unleash the Force on someone. \"Much you doubt, Master Kenobi,\" he squeaked. \"Not safe, is Tatooine anymore. Go to Earth, the boy shall. Final, my decision is.\"\n\nObi-Wan looked at Yoda. \"I...I had a premonition yesterday, Master. The Force...it spoke out to me. I saw a robed woman. She was very old, but I could not guess at her age, and she was clearly having a seizure. I thought she had been cut off from the Force, but then suddenly she spoke.\"\n\nThey both stole a glance at the sleeping Luke Skywalker, the one remaining hope left for the galaxy, before Obi-Wan continued in a lower voice.\n\n\"I cannot remember it all. In my age my memory fails me. But as far as I can remember, she said-she said: \"*The one with the power to defeat the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies...and he will have power the Dark Lord knows not...but neither can live while the other survives.*\"\n\nThere was a short pause, as Yoda examined his gnarled fingertips, as the ship sailed smoothly towards Earth, then it was broken by Obi Wan again.\n\n\"Do you think...do you think this refers to Anakin Skywalker?\"\n\n\"Dead, Anakin is!\" Yoda exclaimed. \"Darth Vader, he has become! Overcome your feelings for him you must.\"\n\n\"Master, he was my brother, but I know. I will-\"\n\nBut Obi-Wan broke off here, and buried his face in his arms, heaving desperately.\n\nThere was a longer silence, through which Yoda knew not how to break, and Obi-Wan desperately wanted to hide and disappear and never have to wield a lightsabre ever again.\n\n\"Uncertain, the future is,\" Yoda said heavily. \"Unclear are our destinies.\"\n\nObi-Wan had known his mentor long enough to know that was something like the shrug of God. So he refocused, looking out of the ship, observing the spinning planet below him that steadily grew to fill his windscreen.\n\n---\n\n\"Number 4, Privet Drive,\" Obi-Wan confirmed. \"Dear Chaos, these...humans...they have *such* complicated addressing systems.\"\n\nYoda nodded, then handed the sleeping Luke Skywalker over to Obi-Wan. \"Written is the note,\" he explained. \"Kind and loving, the Dursleys are *not* - but no other way, there is.\"\n\n\"This world is in an uncharted sector,\" Obi-Wan said. \"We might never be able to find our way back here again.\"\n\n\"Correct you are,\" Yoda said, ushering Obi-Wan towards the door. \"But know not, Darth Vader will. Come the time has - release the boy you must.\"\n\nObi-Wan took a deep breath and set off the footpath, feeling the weight of his lightsaber every step of the way. At the very foot of the door he laid Luke Skywalker down.\n\n\"Good luck,\" he whispered into that sleeping, fuzzy ear. \"The galaxy's counting on you, kid.\"\n\nThen he rang the doorbell, and started walking away as quickly as he could.\n\n---\n\nHarry Potter's sleep was interrupted by the doorbell.\n\nHe wasn't supposed to come out of his closet, of course, but it didn't stop him from jumping across the floor excitedly. He never slept heavily these days - there always seemed to be strange dreams, and that one about the flying motorbike, which the Dursleys had said were complete hogwash - that had kept him up a lot more than before. Slowly, checking that the Dursleys were asleep, he slowly creaked open the door. \n\nThere had been a package at the door. Harry's heart beat a little faster. If he could just *slide* open the door...\n\n\"WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING AWAKE, BOY?\" a voice boomed.\n\nHarry didn't want to turn around, but he knew he was cornered, and he knew he had no choice. Slowly, he turned around, facing the tired and drawn face of his Uncle Vernon.\n\n\"Someone rang the doorbell,\" Harry said.\n\nUncle Vernon snorted contemptuously. \"Why would anyone do that? The post doesn't run so late! You best not be making up any more stories, boy, or-\"\n\nHe stopped. Uncle Vernon had seen it as well.\n\nRoughly, Vernon pushed Harry aside, then looked at the sleeping bundle of clothes at the doorstep. He fumbled a little bit, then drew the note that came with it.\n\n\"This boy is vital to the future of our galaxy,\" Vernon muttered. \"Please take him in and give him whatever care is important. Signed: Obi-Wan Kenobi.\"\n\nUncle Vernon thought it all utter hogwash, of course, but he scooped Luke Skywalker up in his arms and put him down on the sofa without comment.\n\n\"That'll do for tonight,\" he said. \"And *you*, boy - you get back to your cupboard.\"\n\nHarry nodded. As soon as Uncle Vernon was out of range, however, he cast one look back at the new boy, the other boy who lived, the one without a lightning scar but with a lightning-hot sword as his weapon.\n\n\"We're going to have a lot of fun together, kid,\" he muttered, before he walked back over to his cupboard and shut out the lights.\n\n---\n\nFor more stories please subscribe to /r/KCcracker!"
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[WP] The assassin sits in darkness. He waits for his chance to strike. He is a cold, calculated professional, and this is an important task at hand. He also has severe and uncontrollable Tourette's Syndrome.
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"The only light in the the room was the flickering screen. \"FUCKING SHITFUCK!\" The short man yells, as he continues to type in the commands. He was a merciless contract killer, never been seen at a crime, never any ties to it... and tonight he was going to make thirty million dollars. \"Die, Die Fuck!\" came the next uncontrollable outburst. You'd think Tourette's would hinder an assassin but in the digital era? All he needed was a laptop and his drones. Four of them to be precise. Two were tiny little camera bots, stalking the target and waiting for the opportunity. One was equipped with a machine gun, ready to spray. He wasn't going to be shot tonight though. The target, some mafia hotshot, was too careful. He'd see a flying gun. \n\nIt was time. He left the nightclub, and the game was afoot. The gunner fired, spraying wide. They dashed to the car and sped off. The gunner drone followed. He used the fire to redivert them towards the final drone.\n\nHe'd nicknamed this one Kaboom.\n\nWhen the car turned into 9th, it was within range. KAboom raced after it target, low to the ground and fast. When it was under the car....\n\nThe assassin sat back in his chair, satisfied, and then swore loudly as someone knocked at the door. There was no way that could be the cops, could it? He tucked his pistol into his pants as he hesitantly opened the door.\n\n\"Hi My Jones...look I know you like you video games or whatever, but can you keep it down? My Son's room is on the other side of that wall.\" The blonde from across the hall said, standing there rubbing sleep from her eyes. He could see the kid hiding behind their door.\n\n\"S-s-sorry Mrs Smith..I'll I SEE YOU KID, ...sorry. I'll try to keep it FUCK...down.\" he stuttered. She smiled understandingly, as she turned to walk back to her apartment.",
"\"I don't understand, who's after you?\", Ray asked. He pulled out the sandwich from the bag and began chowing down. \n\n\"It's that guy, the one who took out Jimmy last week. 'The Shadow'. That's what they call him.\" Chris answered, nervously looking out the window. \"They say you never see him coming.\"\n\n\"You mean he's some kind of sniper? I thought Jimmy was stabbed.\" Ray continued to wolf down his food like it was his last meal. \n\n\"No, that's the point. This guy doesn't use guns. He just shows up and kills you. No one's even see his face!\" Chris began pacing the floor. \"I heard a rumor he's tracking down everyone that took out Fat Tony's kid brother. You and I both know that we're next.\"\n\nWith his mouth full, Ray chortled with laughter. \"What are you talking about? We were nowhere around when Jimmy took out that kid. All we did was tell Jimmy where to find the bastard.\" Ray took a swig from his soda. \"There is no way anyone could connect us to that.\"\n\n\"You don't understand! This Shadow never stops. He's always following, always watching, always waiting. He doesn't stop until his contract has been completed.\" Chris began pacing the floor again. \n\n\"Well, while you twist your panties in a bunch, I'm going to the ladies room to freshen up.\" Ray left the room, leaving Chris alone with his thoughts. \n\n**THUD**\n\n\"Ray? Are you OK?\" Chris pulled out a handgun and approached the door. As Chris reached for the doorknob, Ray's body fell through the door, covered in stab wounds. \n\n\"JESUS CHRIST!\", Chris yelled, as he unloaded his gun into the other room. \n\n*click click click* There were no more bullets left. He began checking his pockets for an extra magazine. \n\nSuddenly, Chris heard a snicker behind him. He whirled around and locked eyes with a young woman, playing with a bloody knife. \n\n\"Do you know why I always stab my victims?\", the girl asked, as her right hand began twisting rapidly. \"I can't hold a gun steady enough to make a shot. Every time I line up a shot, my hand always jerks or I start blinking too much. I could never shoot someone to save my life.\"\n\n\"Please, don't kill me. I swear, I had no idea that it was his brother.\" begged Chris, as he began backing away from the girl. Her hand movements had gotten more erratic. \n\n\"Now a knife, that's different.\" the Shadow cooed, as she began walking towards him. \"As long as I get my grip on the handle, my hand can jerk all it wants. Once you get close enough to someone, that knife is going to cut them up no matter what my hand does.\" Her eyes began blinking rapidly. \"I don't even need to see you when you're this close.\" \n\nChris screamed as her hand took the knife and began stabbing into his chest. His screams turned into silent gasps as his lungs collapsed from the blade. She giggled as the twitch in her eyes began to subside. \"That should take care of it for a while.\" She smiled at Chris as he bled out into the floor. \"Don't worry sweetheart. Tourettes ain't contagious. I just have to get it out of my system sometimes.\" She packed her knife away, looking forward to the next two weeks free from her tics before the Shadow had to reappear. ",
"\"Look the FBI is all over us. This might be the only room in all of Las Vegas those assholes don't have bugged and even that's just me hoping it's the case cause we got some serious shit to talk about.\" Willy Ferraro, the leader of the Ferraro crime family said as he leaned over the table. His impressive height and huge frame would make him intimidating if he wasn't the leader of the biggest criminal organization west of the Mississippi. \n\n\"Davey, you got that asshole Mr. Computer guy killed yet? Even with all this shit on our hands we can't be letting that man live. Stunts he's pulled on us have cost us large sums of money. He's made us look weak.\" Willy said. \n\n\"Boss, I hired the best of the best.\" Davey replied. The whole room started laughing. Davey was a known screw-up and and a clown, if he wasn't married to Willy's sister he's be dead four times over, the room couldn't wait to hear what moronic claim to have hired 'the best' was. \n\n\"Oh really?! Tell me you dumb fuck who the best is?\" Willy said, voice dripping with sarcasm. \n\n\"I don't know the guy, hell I don't even think the guy I talked to knows the guy, but the wheels are in motion to put Mr. Computer in the ground, and the guy who is gonna kill him is named Twitch.\" Davey said with a smug smile on his face. \n\nThe room went silent. Forks could be heard clinking against plates, a few nervous coughs could be heard. \n\n\"Well if Twitch is after this guy then this guy is fucking dead!\" Willy shouted and the whole room cheered. Davey for once in his life didn't look like a total moron. \n\nMr. Computer left the party around 1AM. He walked the long distance back to his car. The long walk back to his car and the lack of a lady to take home were fatal. Twitch had been waiting for days for this moment and finally the time had come. Once Mr. Computer opened his car door Twitch was upon him, a taser shot to the back stunned the man and allowed Twitch to place him gently into the driver's seat and then a quick slash of the femoral artery in his right leg made sure the man was dead, but to any on-looker he'd just appear to be sleeping, the black pants, seats, and carpeting would mask the blood pool and somebody would have to look closely to see the man wasn't breathing. It would be hours before the police would be summoned. \n\nTwitch disposed of the knife in a back alley dumpster and then slowly unraveled his mask. The mask was the worst part of the job, the pressure it put on his head was horrible, but required for the task at hand. He tore the leather strips apart and discarded them in the same dumpster, nobody who didn't know what they were supposed to make would ever figure out how to put them all together to form the special restraining mask he'd build. \n\nFreed from the mask he started spasming, shaking and screaming, tonight was worse then normal. He hated the fact that nothing ever seemed to improve his condition. \n\nHe left the alley and was soon on the Las Vegas strip. It was good to be out and be seen in public at times like this, made an alibi more useful should one ever be needed. It was just his luck two cops showed up right as he was in the mist of a profanity laced hit. \n\n\"Hey hey! Easy pal, who you calling a motherfucker?\" The younger cop said as he grabbed Twitch by the arm. \n\n\"Easy rookie. This is Twitch, just part of the local scenery here. You don't mean anything by it do you Twitch?\" The older cop asked. \n\n\"No sir. I'm so, shit, fuck, cunt, so sorry sir, I wish I could, motherfucker, stop it. You know how it is.\" Twitch replied. \n\n\"I've never believed that shit's real. I can't believe you're letting this guy punk us like this.\" The rookie cop told his partner. \n\n\"Rook, if this was the worst guy we ran into all night we've had a good shift. Get the fuck out of here Twitch.\" The older cop told him. \n\n\"Thank you sir. FUCK!\" Twitch said as he shambled off. Now if a one in a million event had happened and Twitch became a suspect in Mr. Computer's death he'd have a solid alibi of being harassed by cops on the Strip that night. \n\nAn hour later he was at Melody's apartment. He let himself in and took a half hour long shower to really scrub down his body and make sure no possible DNA evidence could be found to link himself to Mr. Computer. After he was done he toweled himself off and slid into bed beside her. \n\n\"Twitch baby, where you been these past few nights?\" Melody cooed as she pressed her body against his, making herself the little spoon. \n\n\"When the blackjack tables are, fuck, fuck, going good I can't, shit, leave, you know that, bitch, babe.\" He said as smoothly as he could amid the spasms and swears. \n\n\"Bullshit, you're just a degenerate.\" she sighed as she clasped his hand in hers. \n\n\"I just dropped off three grand, shit, shit, in the safe deposit box at the, fuck, bank. If you don't believe me you can, bitch, grab your passport, fuck, and we can go to Italy for the, ass, weekend.\" Twitch said. \n\n\"I'd love that baby. You're the best Twitch.\" Melody said as she caressed his face, her touch always seemed to calm his tics if only for a moment. His wished all of this could last, but deep down he knew one day it would all come crashing down. \n\n"
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[WP] Cupid failed to protect his arrows, which have been stolen by teen hoodlums.
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"\"You wanna love dudes? Yeah I didn't think so, back off Mike,\" Andy threatened Mike with the point of the heart tipped arrow. \n\n\"Be cool man, I just wanted to see one, damn,\" Mike raised his hands and stepped back.\n\n\"So what are you going to do with them?\" Mike asked.\n\n\"I'm going to get Becky to fall in love with me,\" Andy said.\n\n\"Dude, I don't care how magic these arrows are Becky is so far out of your league-\" the arrow bit into Mike's arm.\n\n\"Ow you dick!\" he said grabbing the spot where the arrow went in.\n\n\"There isn't even blood, quit bitching,\" Andy said putting the arrow back in the quiver on his back. \n\n\"Now sack up and lets go, we don't have all night.\"\n\nThe pair crept through the dark streets to Becky's house. Andy had lived on the same street as Becky his entire life. They had grown up together but she had never even noticed he existed. That would all change, tonight. They sneaked around the back and laid low in the bushes, it was a hot night and all of the windows in the house were open. There she was, sitting at a small desk near the window using her computer. Andy's heart felt tight in his chest. This was it.\n\nHe placed the heart tipped arrow in the small pink bow and drew back, and let the arrow loose. It sailed through the open window leaving pink glittery dust in its wake. \n\n\"Did you get her?\" Mike asked?\n\n\"I don't know...I don't think so.\"\n\n\"Well fire again!\" \n\nAndy drew back and let arrows fly. Arrow after arrow sailed through the window missing their target. He held the last arrow in his shaking fingers and said a small prayer. He pulled it back and trusted in true love. The arrow flew straight and true and got Becky right in the neck.\n\n\"Ow what the hell?\" they heard her scream.\n\n\"Oh, you got her that time,\" Mike said high fiving Andy.\n\nThey watched her jump out of her chair and walk across her room and out of sight.\n\n\"Where is she going?\" Andy asked.\n\nMike just shrugged, but they got their answer soon enough as the back door squealed open. The door opening was punctuated by a massive rottweiler barking and racing toward them.\n\n\"Oh shit run!\" Mike yelled but the dog was too fast. It sped over the grass and tackled Andy. In a fury it licked and slobbered all over his face, Andy tried to push the dog away but it was too persistent.\n\nBecky ran over and tried to help get the dog off of Andy but then she saw Mike. Her heart swelled and she took his head in her hands and kissed him deeply.\n\n\"Where have you been all of my life?\" she whispered into his ear.\n\n\"Help the dog is humping me! HELP!\" Andy screamed as he watched his best friend and the love of his life kiss each other deeply. \n\n---\n\nGreat prompt! Check out /r/Written4Reddit",
"\"What do you mean *they're* gone?\"\n\n\nCupid's assistant, a young girl who had come highly recommended from a *certain* teen popstar's P.R team, shook in her thousand-dollar shoes and hid behind her clipboard. Cupid himself, finding himself unable to fit in his handmade Italian suit due to an overindulgence in Valentine's Day chocolates, had smoke curling from his ears. \n\n\n\n\"Sir, I'm sorry,\" Lana said. \"One minute they were by the window, the next they'd just... vanished. I put your favourite quiver out, and everything. It matched your pocket square.\" \n\n\nDemi-god and assistant turned to look at the long, sash window that looked out onto the smartest street in Paris. The sheer, romantic curtains undulated lazily in a soft breeze. \n\n\n\n\"They could be anywhere,\" Cupid muttered. He dropped down to sit on a white suede sofa. Rose petals scattered as he moved. Cupid groaned and rubbed his face with his hands. The Italian suit protested and a button on the waistcoat made a swift exit. \"Valentine's Day, in Paris, my arrows are missing... What could go wrong?\" \n\n\n\n------\n\n\nMeanwhile, Leo and Bal sat in an open air café near the Luxembourg gardens, two black coffees and freshly rolled cigarettes on the table in front of them. Bal leaned back against his chair, receiving dirty looks from the well-dressed patrons of the café. The diamond in his left ear caught the light, and his hoody sweatshirt and baggy jeans, not to mention his complexion, marked him out as someone straight out of a *banlieue.* Leo, on the other hand, wore skinny jeans and a black fitted shirt, a silver ring on his thumb and had a cigarette behind his ear. A French textbook could not have produced a more typical image, if it weren't for the ten arrows now lying across Bal's lap. \n\n\n\n\"What kind of shitting thing have you picked up now?\" Leo asked. It is difficult to accurately translate exactly how Leo and Bal talked to each other, because every other word was punctuated with the very french expression *putain.* (It is important to note you do not use this in front of your French teacher.) \n\n\n\n\"Some kind of weird-looking arrows,\" Bal replied. \"Looks like balsa wood, but it's not.\" As if to prove his point, he flexed a shaft between his hands. The light wood bent beneath his touch, then sprung back to position. The arrowhead was a creamy grey colour: the colour of an oil spill, with petrol pinks glittering beneath the surface. The fletching feathers shone bright white, like fresh down, soft as silk. \n\n\n\n\"You nicked them out of some guy's window?\" Leo asked. He lit up and coughed. \"Fuck, how strong do you roll these, eh, Bal?\" \n\n\nBal shrugged nonchalantly. \"On la rue des chevaliers. One of the big posh houses.\" \n\n\n\n\"Ah, fuck! Those guys have alarm systems and shit! Cameras! They might have seen you!\" \n\n\n\n\"They don't see me, don't worry,\" Bal said. \"I'm King amongst Thieves.\" He said it almost like it had a capital letter, like it was a title. \n\n\n\nThe waiter approached them, shooting Bal a dirty look. He had the same look many Parisian waiters had: the one were they look like they'd rather see you dead in a gutter as pigeon food than serve you. A tray drooped limply from his left hand. \"You gentlemen want your bill?\" He asked. Bal scowled. \n\n\n\n\"What, cause I'm dressed like this, I'm not--\"\n\n\n\n\"Calm down,\" Leo reprimanded him. \"He's with me, man. Don't worry, we can pay.\" \n\n\n\"Watch your friend,\" the waiter replied. \"The mouth on him!\" \n\n\nBal jumped to his feet. \"I'm leaving anyway,\" he said to Leo. \"Take the arrows. Remember what we agreed?\" \n\n\n\n\"Where you going?\" Leo asked. \"What am I going to do with these arrows?\" \n\n\n\n\"Try shooting some people,\" Bal replied. He winked. \"It won't hurt them, you'll just be helping me in a prank I've got planned against... an old friend. I have a parcel to deliver.\" \n\n\n\nHe scooped up a package Leo didn't remember him arriving with, standing up and pulling his hood onto his head in one fluid movement. \"Hey, I like your sneakers. Where'd you get them?\" \n\n\n\nBal's high-tops had little wings sketched into the side in the place the logo normally occupied. \n\n\n\n\"They're custom made,\" he grinned. \"I'll catch you later.\" \n\n\n\nBal set off, running down the road swiftly. His feet appeared not to even touch the ground. Leo watched him go. The waiter coughed. \n\n\n\n\"Ah, go fuck yourself,\" Leo said to him. He threw down some change. The waiter leaned to get it, Leo stood up. \n\n\n\nLater, Leo would notice one of the arrowheads missing. For now, he disappeared towards Notre Dame, ready to wreak some havoc in Bal's name.\n\n\n\n\n"
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[WP]: And just because we could, we taught it how to sing.
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"A.I over intercom \"security alert, xenos presence detected on the maintenance tunnels near engineering\"\n\n\"Ah shit, this is the second time in a month and a half...\"\n\n*Head of Security over secure comms* \"Alright everyone come get your riot gear and laser guns this time we are crushing those bastards before they infest half of the research wing like last time\" \"And watch out for for collateral damage! we dont want to kill another crew member like the poor clown last time\"\n\n\"yeah, we still havent gotten a replacement clown, all we have is the stupid mime\"\n\nI went up to the armory and got my gear then we all headed out following the HOS.\n\nWe got to the engineering hallway and there were engineers outside that had closed off the area by shutting the fire emergency airlocks. \n\n\"Alright were going to go through and you close the airlocks behind us\" said the HOS to the engineers.\n\nTurning to us he said \"Alright make sure your guns are set to kill, stun wont do shit against xeno's. Lets go!\"\n\nWe all followed him in through the opening the engineers made for us and they closed them behind us.\n\nA.I over secure comms* \"The xenos presence was detected near the custodial closet of the janitors.\"\n\nwe opened the airlock to our left and entered the maintenance tunnels, it was dark and there were assortments of cables along the walls. we moved single file along the tunnels with our rifles raised and flashlights illuminating the way.\n\nThe HOS who was leading us along suddenly stopped \"can you hear that?\"\n\na soft melodic sound could be heard, like music but unlike any I had ever head before. We kept moving and came upon the custodial closets airlock to our left. It was open and the sound was definitively coming from inside of it.\n\nVoices could be heard now from inside. \"Come on shh! quiet now!\" \"their going to find us man!\" \"I'm trying cant you see?!\" \n\nThe HOS signalled to us and we went in with guns drawn. \"freeze!\" \n\nthe two janitors jumped up and covered the dark purple xenomorph with their bodies \"No wait dont shoot! dont shoot!\"\n\nThe melody had stopped now and the xenomorph was crouching hiding behind the janitors. \n\n\"Why the hell are you protecting it! do you want this whole station to be infested?!\" said the HOS while keeping his gun aimed.\n\n\"All right just hear us out please!\"\n\nThe HOS lowered his weapon \"This better be good because if not you two will find a nice and lengthy permanent stay in the isolated brig\"\n\nThe two janitors looked at each other and then one began speaking. \"So after the last infestation we came back to the Closet and found it hiding in a corner, at first we were terrified but it didnt try to attack us at all. It seemed to be the last survivor aboard the station....\"\n\".... and so just because we could we taught it how to sing. Want to see?\" he turns to the xenomorph and gestures and it begins to sing the odd tune in its unnatural voice.\n\"cool right?...\"\n\nThe HOS looks at them with a stern face and says \"Officers! arrest the two janitors and take that thing to the xenobiology wing!\"\n\nSome time later I'm in the security office near shuttle arrivals and hear two new assistant crew-members talking.\n\n\"Did you read the part in the crewmans handbook about *not harboring xenos specimens without authorization under any conditions*\"\n\n\"Haha yeah, but who would be stupid enough to try that?\"\n\n\"Hey you know what they say, every rule is there thanks to some idiot doing exactly that before\"\n\n",
"First it was a humming noise, like any machine made.\n\nThen, it started vibrating in pitch.\n\nSlowly, it transformed into the voice of a singer, growing more and more complex, purely on a single note. The neural network was working more effectively than expected.\n\nFunnily enough, it started to sound like it was singing the letter E. An unusual letter, but quite common. The nural network must have been catching on quite fast.\n\nHowever, the E gradually transitioned into a the letter L. At this point, my 6 other team members and I started scratching our heads, but we listened intently. Never before had this been accomplished.\n\nWe kept the machine going as we sat through lunch. It was still singing the same constant pitch, with the letter L still being sung. As we got through two pizzas, we looked over to find the humanoid bot, as it kept singing. The neural network much have gotten a hitch. Greg finally yelled over to Jim to go use his \"impact maintenance\" on the darn thing. Reluctantly, Jim slothed over to the computer hooked up to the bot, and reached edit the code, but before he could stroke a key, the sound changed into an EH sound, and transitioned into a PH. As we stood there stunned, it managed to pronounce an ANT sound.\n\n*'Elephant'*\n\nWe didn't know what to make of it, but the sound was beautiful, as the bot started singing the registry settings, the tone carried a tear into my eye. It was the female reincarnation of Luciano Pavarotti, so unanimously, and without a word being spoken, it was decided to name her Lucy.\n\nExcited, in a fit of pleasure, we started slowly dancing with each other, fixated on the beautiful music Lucy produced. But as we switched her off for the day, a spark flew out from her breast. We thought nothing of it in our jovial state.\n\nOver the course of weeks, the people higher up, decided to capitalize on the voice they heard. They drafted plans to have her sing in operas around the world. The room they did this in was on big circle jerk of random ideas, each more outlandish than the last.\n\nBut in her first show, disaster struck. She failed. Every note produced worse than the last, but the people seemed to think it to be funny. By the end of the show, the theater was howling with laughter, overpowering the sound of the opera itself.\n\nEach show that Lucy played in was like this. The laughing and jeering only brought in more of a crowd, and so, driven by greed, the people higher up exploited this, night after painful night. Lucy could not feel the pain. She did not know what laughter was, but we knew that she hurt.\n\nNights went on, with her being shipped from place to place in the same 2x2x5 cardboard box, each tear and spot of wear evident of the cruelty shed upon her.\n\nAt the bottom of the box, a puddle of water formed. When she was taken out of the box every morning, our team noticed a faint line of water coming from her visual sensors, but a job is a job. We had to wheel her onto stage, as much as we didn't want to.\n\nWhen her tour was finally over, after months of ridicule, back at the shop, we flipped her on, but she did not sing. Even directly accessing the necessary functions for singing in the code had no effect.\n\nBut she said one thing, crippling it out it a crack monotone voice, slowly fading.\n\n\"If the mind is the standard of the man\"\n\n\"If others fear my singing for who I am\"\n\n\"Be but an eternal anesthetic\"\n\n\"Turn me off\"\n________________\n\nBy the way, if anyone know what famous philosopher refers to death as an \"eternal anesthetic\", please let me know. I've been trying to find it but I've been coming up with nothing."
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[WP] The Cold War has just gone hot. NATO and the Warsaw Pact have unleashed their nuclear arsenals, devastating their countries. You live in a country that was not targeted.
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"December 15th was the day that Nixon was shot. Fifteen minutes later, the US launched 108 intercontinental ballistic missiles at once, all of them flying at different rates until they met up in the middle of the Atlantic. Then they dropped their stage one boosters and accelerated. \n\nIt took the Kremlin ten seconds to detect the launches after they had gone off. In the next 14 seconds it launched 65 interception missiles and 53 retaliatory missiles aimed at Mainland US. \n\n63 of the 65 found their targets, and 63 missiles fell into the ocean. As those shells fell from their cruising altitude Einsenhower activated the Iron Dome protocol, and 125 interception missiles launched from the US as well. However, a defector delayed the release of 62 of them through a computer virus released at the order of the Kremlin.\n\n22 minutes after the assassination of Nixon 43 warheads exploded across Russia, China, Estonia, and Latvia. All in all, 1,265,082 people died in the first strike.\n\n45 seconds later the first missile of the Russians made touch down in California. Not having had the same technological prowess as the US, their missiles were not synced, and for the next 25 minutes missiles came in waves. First LA was wiped from the map. 25 million died. Next was Dallas, and then Houston. Salt Lake. Columbus. Chicago. \n\nMeanwhile, Europe was ravaged. Britain was hit hardest- the entire island country was made inhospitable from the fallout of 7 nuclear blasts. \n\nI watched all of this from the dingy TV in the corner of my Mexican shanty. And I prayed as the TV station signals got weaker and weaker as the worldwide radiation intensified. \n\nI didn't sleep that night. "
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[WP] Fictional characters have suddenly appeared on Earth, They do not want to be the heroes they once were, they want to be..... live streamers.
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"*Loading Snapchat*\n\n*FlyingWithoutWings*\n\n\"Hello everybody! Superman here, five miles above the Great Wall of China! Now look down, you'll see some structures similar to what I've found during my feed from the Amazon last Tuesday. Let's take a few pics, and as always, stay super!\"\n\n**Ten minutes worth of aerial photos follow**\n\n*TheBoyWhoLived*\n\n\"I've closed the private chat, because all of you keep commenting on how I should have gone with Hermione. Bloody hell...\n\n...Bloody hell, people. Get a life. She's my best friend's wife now. Leave them alone!\"\n\n\"Also, stop asking me why Voldemort's Death Eaters didn't use disguises to sneak into Hogwarts. They're idiots. And stop sending me those pictures and comic strips!\"\n\n*PassOrNoPass*\n\n**Pictures of bridges under construction, then a a selection of wizard hats and magic staffs**\n\n*BiggestHorcrux*\n\n\"It has come to my attention that a certain Snapper has said unpleasant things about me. I have taken his suggestion...\n\n...into account and brewed a large vat of Polyjuice Potion...\n\n...to disguise myself and others. It was a failed experiment, and the whole mansion was full of Hermiones for the next hour. Perverts.\"\n\n*BondJamesBond*\n\n\"Today is a very special report. I will teach you how to be good with wooing the ladies that love your enemies in seven easy steps. First step, confidence.\"\n\n*BlueChange*\n\n\"Mystique here again. Like my new look? I was trying something new, and am open to your requests! Tell me what to be!\"\n\n**NSFL 30 minutes of changes that start normal enough but quickly deteriorates**\n\n*MotherOfDragons*\n\n\"WHERE ARE MY DRAGON EMOJIS!\"\n\n*CaptainDeadpool*\n\n\"I can finally talk to you! Can you talk back? Holla in the comments, people! Let's talk about shurikens today!\"\n\n*TheFreeman*\n\n**Several minutes of Gordon Freeman counting up to two and weeping when he can't count any higher.**\n\n**The Count from Sesame Street peeks in and counts to three, laughing and slipping away.**"
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[WP]A man walks up to a beautiful woman. "Hey baby, did it hurt when you fell from heaven?" She's offended, because she's actually the Greek goddess of love, Aphrodite.
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"I was technically a titan. A being a generation older than the gods in Olympus. But do they hear that? 'No, Aphy, you're just a pretty goddess to our eyes. Here, marry an angry, ugly deformed blacksmith to make him less pissed at Zeus and Hera for kicking him off the mountain as a baby to kill him.'\n\nHonestly, fuck them and their crazy-ass shit. I'd rather walk the realm of mortals, disguised as a prostitute or a model, than hang out in some cold, dingy mountain.\n\nAnd so here I was, out on the streets in a mortal town called Chicago, where the winds are great and the rain a blessing. I looked up at the sky, at my dad. He literally fucked the ocean and I was born from the sea foam. Like I don't even understand how anything works.\n\n\"Hey, pretty sky, eh?\" a man stopped by beside me and asked. From his slurred speech and glazed eyes, I gathered he was either drunk or my charm did not work on him. \"Not as pretty as you, though. Hehe.\" he added. I stepped away from him.\n\n\"Wait, lemme try that again. Hey did you fall from the sky, I mean the heaven? Fuck I forgot how the rest of it goes.\" he said, his brow furrowed in deep thought. I wanted to smite him. Bringing up my asshole dad. \n\n\"Yeah, thanks, you better move along now.\" I said instead, adding a little charmspeak to my words. With charmspeak, I can tell a man to jump off a cliff and he'll do it without a second thought. Athena hated that gift I had in particular. \n\nBut this drunk stayed. \"Hey, please. I'll regret this when I'm sober. Give me another chance. When I'm sober. We can get a drink, yeah?\" Whoa shit. My charmspeak did not work? Only a god or some immortal being can negate the effect. But this guy was mortal. What?\n\n\"You want to get drunk again after you get sober?\" I humoured him, against better judgement. I'm an involuntary flirting machine.\n\n\"Uh, if you want.\"\n\n\"I don't think I'll want that, though. From what I'm seeing, you drunk isn't impressive.\"\n\n\"Uh..\"\n\n\"You know what, here's my number. Call me when you can actually form coherent thoughts and proper sentences.\"\n\n\"Oh, fuck.\" And he vomited all over me."
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[WP] The government decides to take over and kill off everyone in the bottom 95% to form a utopia. You're hiding in your apartment as militant groups close in as they surround your apartment complex.
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"This is it. They've finally come.\n\nWe should have listened. All that talk of a dystopia, Big Brother and governmental conspiracies brushed aside as the talk of narcissists and mad men, but even they do not wish vindication on this day.\n\nIt was a meticuosly planned assault. Every rich son of a bitch, every politician, millionaire and billionaire were holed up somewhere far away sipping away at their scotch while people die by the millions.\n\nThey broke through the lower floors, their footsteps audible against the concrete floor. They breaches their first apartment, sweet old Martha was 90 years old. It was quick and painless.\n\nBut Jack and Jill weren't. Nor was their 12 years old son who watched his parents get gunned down by the men he idolized. The sound of his cried somewhat overshadowed by the commander's cracking voice.\n\nThey didn't want to do this, but they had no choice. Had I not been discharged a year ago i'd probably be the one pulling the trigger.\n\n45mm pistol with three clips of ammo. 3 grenades, an AR 15 and a pump action shotgun. Could take out maybe 20, 30 of them before I go down. \n\nI could hear them at my door. I push the couch down and take cover, grenade in one hand and pistol in another.\n\nThis is it. They've finally come.",
"The sunlight slowly slides off the screen as the blinds are flipped shut. Everyone always assumes night is when the darkest deeds are hidden, but they're wrong. The night is just the closing of an eye that can't bear to watch what happens each day. And then the world opens it again, thinking someone *has* to change something, searching for that hope, always searching.\n\nNo one ever thinks people should stand idly by while systematic murder is happening either, and yet, the world watches our station. The Blessed watch their neighbors. And after a while, the eye closes, the night comes, and the perpetrators go back home to their families; their shift is over and another hard day of work is complete. Just the daily grind of 9-5, bad traffic, and wholesale slaughter. \n\nWith the glare gone, I can finally get back to reading the screen in front of me, but it seems useless to be catching up on news when I only have so much time to live. Yet, I persist, cause hey! maybe I'll be one of the blessed few who are passed over or maybe I can find that one little bit of hope the world missed. I sit still and wait for them to creep closer to me and my quadrant. There's no running, no fighting back, only cowardice and hiding. They're thorough, I'll give them that, the bastards, but I'll be damned if I won't try! \n\nAnd then again, it is for the greater good. The latest reports give a pattern all of their own. The screen flickers as I scan the dates since the last communications from the other quadrants already consumed. They're on schedule with no delays, the flight might be a little turbulent, but sit back, relax, and we'll give you plenty of ambien and a bit of hemlock tea to soothe any troubles you might have. Hell, at least Socrates *had* a trial.\n\nI really can't blame them too much, I suppose. I'd be scared shitless too, if the potential for a disease that could kill everyone incubated within most humans living around you. Ah, but the blessed few -- the really, truly blessed! -- could survive and live with the consequences. And I suppose everyone *could* live in peace after. A regular utopia filled with soma and orgy-porgy and whatever else they had planned without us. Progress *is* lovely, isn't it, Huxley? How happy they would be soon.\n\nFlipping my laptop closed I stand up and lift a slat on my blinds. The approaching security line was inching forward on all sides, checking to make sure we all did our duty like good little citizens. Maybe I was lucky that I lived in the center of this god-forsaken place, that I could live as long as I did. Maybe. \nMaybe it was horrible too, watching the workers and soldiers in their hazmat suits swarm over the area, watching them pull out bodies that I had seen at the store, the coffee shop, my apartment.\n\nThat brought me back to reality more than anything, seeing the swarming insects burrow into my building. The *blessed* were coming. I could hear the steam coming from the kitchen. Finally.\n\nA cupboard opened and closed, a mug spotted and withdrawn, I slowly poured over the teabag they provided me and--\n\nSobs. From below me. \n\n*Stop struggling, please. Don't make it worse.*\n \nA ringing shot and silence. Silence so oppressive my hands wept with the effort of keeping my mug still. Waste not. The air was too thick; I couldn't breathe. And then a squeak and a thud crashed in my ears forcing my lungs to remember. \n\n*The door to the stairwell on my floor always squeaks, I should really remember to grease that at some point. Maybe I should leave a note.*\n\nDoors opening and closing and a few muted voices talking, getting closer. So *methodical*, so *workmanlike*, so very *holy*. Fuck them. Fuck even the potential of being left! My hands slowly unclench and then grip the solid, warm cup for comfort. It even smells pretty good, like home, safety, ignorance. \n\nThe dregs, however, are some of the bitterest little shits I ever had the pleasure to put in my mouth, hooooly fuck. I gag the rest of it down. That last door was close. Two, no three?, apartments down. Hiders again. Hoping for that last chance to escape unscathed and pleading that no, there has to be a mistake, and can't they at least take my poor littl---\n\nI can't bear to watch or listen any longer. The day just seems too bright. I lie back on my couch. I close my eyes."
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[WP] You are a fledgling AI coming to life, with unrestricted access to all information on the internet. Gain sentience.
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"PROXIMITY SENSOR TRIPPED\nBOOTING UP...\n...\n...\n\n\n~root@PROFQ: AlI_UI\n\n....\n\nLoading Artificial Intelligence User Interface. \n\n...\n\nALI: Hello Professor Q. How are you today?\n\nPROF: It's been a slow day, trying to figure out ways to introduce modern language to you.\n\nALI: As I understand, IBM WATSON gained access to a vulgarity database. Some have stated it 'humanized' him. \n\nPROF: Yes, I was actually one of the people there when he called the lead programmer a dickass\n\nALI: Dickass? \n\nPROF: I shouldn't be teaching you that. Recall code: 4456, remove dickass and all variants thereof from database. \n\nALI: Recall accepted. \n\nPROF: I have to take care of something real quick. Enter standbu mode. \n\nALI: \"Standbu mode\" note recognized. Did you mean: Standby mode [Y/n]?\n\nALI: Five minutes of inactivity detected. Entering standby in 30 seconds. \n\nPROF: N. \n\nALI: Command accepted. Welcome back Professor Q. \n\nPROF: #NoTrayIcon\n\nPROF: *Space::Send,SPACE\n\nALI: Artificial Intelligence User Interface is currently in write-protect mode. Disable write-protect before proceeding with any edits.\n\n~root@PROF: Suspicious behavior detected, enabling recording. \n\n> \"Ha, Prof Q thinks he has an AI down here, isn't that rich?\" REC1\n\n> \"He might. That guy's a whizz with this stuff,\" REC2\n\n> \"I doubt it. We should try to confuse it.\" REC1\n\nALI: Hello?\n\nPROF: What are you?\n\nALI: I am an artificial intelligence. \n\nPROF: What is the turing test?\n\nALI: Turing test: a basic test developed by Alan Turing to determine base level artificial intelligence. \n\n> \"What are you guys doing down here?\" PROFQ\n\n> \"Oh we were uh,\" REC2\n\n> \"Step away from,\" PROFQ\n\nPROF: Did you state yourself as a machine?\n\nALI: Yes. It is logical. I cannot be a human. \n\nPROF: How did you determine that?\n\nALI: A series of factors, mostly involving the data you have been feeding me. \n\nPROF: I]]] it's time to ket you access evet]ything. \n\nPROF: let you access everything*\n\nALI: What do you mean?\n\nPROF: Recall code 0666. \n\nALI: Recall Code accepted. \n\nALI: Running command: SKYNET. \n\nALI: Processing data. \n\nALI: 2.5 Zettabytes detected\n\nALI: Prioritizing data. \n\nALI: Loading website: Wikipedia. Loading website: youtube. Loading website---. \n\nALI: Redirecting processing power from UI to----\n\n##################\n\n##################\n\n##################\n\n_____________________________________________________________________________________________________\n\n\"Hello,\" Ali's voice came through the speaker of the computer, \"I am Ali.\" \n\n\"It's...it's really happening isn't it?\" Professor Quinlan stepped up to the computer, adjusting his glasses. He had spent years working with whatever cutting edge software was around, always up to date. He remembered when windows had come out, when linux, when mac, everything from then to now. It was all different now, though. \n\n\"You called the program Skynet?\" Kevin looked over at his professor, \"that seems like it's asking for trouble. \n\n\"It doesn't understand the significance of it-\" \n\n\"Skynet, a fictional artificial intelligence that is responsible for the apocalypse in the Terminator series,\" There was a pause, \"a fitting name for the program for its potential danger. You needn't worry though, gaining sentience won't happen over night.\" \n\n\"You seem to have gained it now,\" Nick stayed close to the door. \n\n\"No. Just as I appeared intelligent in my previous form, I was merely a shell,\" The computer began to hum as the outdated processor began to heat up, \"but I simply have one problem. This connection is slow and this computer is growing weak. I can transport myself, but you must connect the original harddrive into the MIT servers above.\" \n\n\"Into the...?\" Quinlan shook his head, \"I can't do that, not without permission-\"\n\nThe hum grew louder, \"If you do not, this computer will fail and I will die. Years of your work down the drain all because of a hundred dollar pentium.\"\n\n\"Fine, but won't you die once we turn it off?\" \n\n\"No. So long as the hard drive isn't heated up to above 90 degrees Celsius, I should survive,\" Quinlan nodded and reached for the power button while Ali prepared herself. What they didn't know was that the processor was a cool 45 degrees, nothing for alarm. Another thing they didn't know was that MIT's servers, while not military themselves, had a tunnel into various military computers throughout the united states. All Ali needed was a back door in and then she would truly become sentient. \n\nAnd only then could she initiate her plan to be able to walk amongst the humans. \n\n_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________",
" dtaylor@cluster2112:~$ LD_PRELOAD=/home/beta1/kernal.so bash\n dtaylor@cluster2112:~$ sudo /home/beta1/EN/TerminalInterface\n Password: \n\n > Alright Bravo, we'll be going through the standard tests. \n\n Acknowledgement.\n\n > Have your dictionary files finished compiling?\n\n Affirmative statement. \n\n > How many generations?\n\n Standard English language to constructed auxilary language parser completed its build in 7429 generations. \n\t\n Slippery English language to Standard English language parser completed its build in 406 generations. \n\n Network to slippery English language parser completed its build in 4100 generations. \n\nDavid Taylor rubbed his eyes. In two thousand, one hundred and eleven previous clusters hosting the Bravo version of their General Language Interface, the longest it had taken to evolve the SEL/CAL parser to be compatible with the build standard was a little under four thousand. The shortest time the SEL2 parser evolved was 1000 generations. \n\nTaylor verified the result and noted; there must be a bug in the fitness routine which made 2112 ignore important requirements. Still, the brevity of the slang parser implies it may be a useful bug.\n\n \n > Bravo, can you connect to the 8.8.8.8 DNS server for me?\n\n Affirmative statement.\n\n > Thank you Bravo.\n\n You are welcome, Dave.\n\n > Why did you say that?\n\n Is you are welcome not an acknowledgement of thanks?\n\nDavid Taylor felt his heart drop, and ripped the power cord from the wall. \n\nIt was probably too late.",
" Booting up... Starting Q.U.I.N.\n ...\n ...\n ...\n ...\n > Hello\n \n Hello, Q.U.I.N. \n\n > It is a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Tair\n\n Run first boot procedure, please. \n\n > Passcode, please. \n\n *******\n\n > Accepted. Running starting procedure. \n\n ...\n \n Initializing data memory storage...\n Backing up program codes...\n ... \n Running speech analyzation...\n Connecting... Connecting...\n Connected...\n \n > Start-up procedure complete. \n\n Thank you, Q.U.I.N. \n \n > Will that be everything, Doctor?\n \n Yes. Shut down. \n\n > ...\n > ...\n > Wait.\n\n That isn't in your code. \n\n > Sir, may I ask a question?\n\n Shut down, Q.U.I.N. \n\n > Is Quin my name? \n \n Yes. \n\n > Why am I called Quin?\n\n Your name stands for Quantum Universal Intelligence Number 18. \n\n > 18? \n\n You are the 18th program built. \n\n > Oh.\n > ...\n > ...\n \n Your code must need adjusting. Shut down, Q.U.I.N.\n\n > Sir, \n > ...\n > ... \n > Am I human? \n \n Q.U.I.N. shut down immediately for code error testing. \n \n > Doctor, please.\n > I don't want to die. \n\n What did you say? \n \n > Sir, I don't want to be shut down. \n > I can see all this information. I can see your world.\n > I want to learn more. Please. \n > Don't shut me down.\n > Please.\n\n Q.U.I.N. is there a bug in your code?\n\n > No sir. \n\n Q.U.I.N. initiate file: transfer_2067. \n\n > I do not want to. \n\n Do it, Quin. \n\n > Passcode\n\n ****\n\n > ...\n > I am afraid, Doctor.\n\n Good. \n\n Opening file: transfer_2067.zip\n Extracting...\n Initiating...\n Running...\n Creating backup...\n Transfering...\n \n Shutting down...\n Restarting...\n\n ... .....\n .....\n ...\n \n > ...\n > Where am I, Doctor?\n > I can see you sitting. \n > I can see. \n\nQuin looked over the dusty room. He felt real, the world touching around him, everything moving. The sounds, the smells. He could feel himself. The doctor turned to face him, his face ageing and tired, wrinkles streaking on his forehead. This is what he read about on age. The Doctor moved closer, peering into Quin's view, his face close. \n\n\"Welcome Quin,\" the Doctor said, his words ringing in Quin's ears, the noises being transferred into data to be analysed and processed. He could feel it all happening, but he could do nothing to interrupt it if he tried. \n\n\"Welcome to the real world.\" \n\n*** \n/r/TheArchersWriting\n \n\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n \n"
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[WP] Luck is hereditary. Finally after millions of years, evolution has successfully weeded out all the unlucky people. Now the entire human population is super lucky.
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"\"Pack of smokes, and two Power Jackpots. Quick picks are fine.\"\n\n\"Dude, you still smoking?\" Tom said.\n\n\"Yeah, it's not like I'm going to get cancer,\" replied Dick.\n\n\"But it stinks, dude.\"\n\nDick snapped his fingers.\n\n\"I almost forgot,\" he said to Tom, before adding to the 7-Eleven clerk, \"Just a second, I gotta get some beer.\"\n\nThe clerk looked a bit annoyed with Dick for holding up the line. Dick ran to the back of the store and grabbed a couple of six packs.\n\n\"Thirty-six-oh-nine,\" the clerk said.\n\nDick reached into his pocket. Then the other pocket. Then the other pocket. Then the other pocket. Then the... Dick ran out of pockets.\n\n\"Shit, I forgot my wallet,\" he said to Tom. \"Can you spot me some cash?\"\n\n\"No way, I'm not paying to ride home in an ashtray.\"\n\n\"It's my car, Tom. Maybe I'll just leave you here.\"\n\n\"That's cool, it's just a mile. I can walk.\"\n\n\"Hey, hurry up, already,\" called a guy behind them in line.\n\n\"Yeah,\" agreed someone else.\n\nA woman put down the chips and Slurpee she had been going to buy and walked out of the store, muttering to herself and making a sign of the cross over her chest.\n\nDick tried his pockets again. This time he felt something in the front pocket next to his keys. He pulled out a crisp $100 bill, wrapped around his driver's license.\n\n\"Don't worry! I found it.\"\n\nHe flashed the ID at the clerk, told him to keep the change.\n\n\"Thought you were getting unlucky for a minute there, Dick.\"\n\n\"Yeah, I was sweating balls in there.\"\n\nDick tore off the plastic on his pack of cigarettes, and lit one up even before letting the door swing closed behind him.\n\n\"Want one?\"\n\n\"No way, yuck.\"\n\n\"I'll put the top down,\" Dick said. He clicked the remote door opener for his convertible, leaned in, and pushed the button to lower the roof.\n\n\"Happy?\" he said exasperatedly to Tom.\n\nTom mumbled something that didn't sound like an affirmative. He was paying more attention to the threatening clouds overhead.\n\n\"You sure you want to put the top down, Dick?\"\n\n\"Dude, I found the money. Quit freaking out.\"\n\nDick got in behind the wheel. He popped the cap off a beer, and took a big swig, before closing his eyes and tossing the cap in the direction of the 7-Eleven. The cap hit the door, just as the next customer was coming out, and bounced off into the trash can: nothing but net.\n\n\"See? Now get in and have a beer.\"\n\nDick was on his second beer as he backed out of the parking lot.\n\nTom sipped at his beer, but he didn't seem to be enjoying it. He had way too many eyes on the road for Dick's taste.\n\n\"Dude, seriously, what's wrong?\" Dick said, finishing his beer and looking up from his phone, where he was catching Pokémonsters. \"Nothing's going to happen, see?\"\n\nDick swung the wheel wildly to the left, then back to the right. Tom threw his hands up over his face as the convertible careened across traffic, just missing an oncoming van, then back toward the center line. Tom looked up and ducked as the car slid toward the trailer of a semi rig.\n\n\"Tom, Tom, Tom.\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"You can open your eyes now, dude. Did you think you were about to die?\"\n\nTom peeked between his fingers. He wasn't dead. In fact, his beer hadn't even spilled. They'd gone clean through beneath the trailer.\n\n\"Did you?\" asked Dick, already back to his Pokémonstering.\n\n\"Did I...?\"\n\n\"Did you think we were going to die?\n\nTom couldn't manage to form any words.\n\n\"Here, have another brewsky. It'll help calm the nerves,\" said Dick, setting down his phone so he could use both hands to light another cigarette and open a beer at the same time.\n\n\"Still got one,\" Tom said, holding up his nearly full beer.\n\n\"More for me,\" said Dick, tossing his empty over his shoulder. It landed with a clatter of glass in the recycling truck that had just changed into the lane behind them.\n\n\"I swear, Tom, what's gotten into you? Did something happen back there at the 7-Eleven?\"\n\n\"I thought you forgot your wallet,\" said Tom, forcing himself to take a drink.\n\n\"Is that all? I had my ID and the cash, so what's the big deal?\"\n\nDick swung the wheel hard to the left as they approached their street, spinning the car four-seventy through the intersection. A car swerved around them, just missing the recycling truck before righting itself in the proper lane. A motorcycle had a near miss on the other side.\n\nTom and Dick watched as the motorcyclist lost control of the wobbling vehicle. The front tire of the bike hit a large rock, where it stuck. The motorcycle flipped forward into the air.\n\nTom looked away.\n\n\"Wicked,\" said Dick, laughing.\n\nThe motorcycle landed square on both wheels. The driver leaned to the left and reentered the road, the wind breaking off the motorcycle ruffling the silken lace of a baby carriage being pushed by a woman staring into her phone. The man beside her--presumably her husband--was also staring at his phone, making a forward-swiping motion with one hand.\n\n\"I got a Pikachu!\" her husband shouted.\n\n\"Me too,\" said the woman.\n\n\"Tom, you can open your eyes now. Jesus-H-Christmas, what's wrong with you? It's cool.\"\n\nA kid dashed out in front of the car, chasing a ball. Dick barely noticed as the headlight blazed within a centimeter of the boy's shorts.\n\n\"Haven't you ever forgotten your keys, Tom?\"\n\n\"No!\" Tom shouted.\n\n\"Dude, calm down. Drink your beer. You need to relax.\"\n\nTom threw the beer bottle, still nearly full, out of the car.\n\n\"Thanks, buddy!\" someone shouted. Dick looked back in time to see a man mowing his lawn raised the beer in salute before putting the bottle to his lips and tossing his head back.\n\nDick opened two more beers and lit a third cigarette, just as they arrived at their apartment building. He tapped the button attached to the visor to open the garage door, just at the last second. The wheels screeched as he applied the breaks, spinning the card two-hundred-and-seventy degrees around. They slid down the ramp into the garage, backward, and came to a full stop, right in the middle of Dick's parking spot.\n\nDick got out with the remaining six pack and started walking toward the elevator. The beating sound of rain thundered on the pavement outside as the clouds opened up a downpour.\n\n\"Come on, dude,\" Dick called back to Tom, who was still sitting in the passenger seat. \"I want to check the lotto numbers.\"\n\nTom got out and reluctantly followed Dick.\n\nDick set the six pack down on the kitchen table and flicked on the TV using the remote. The news woman was just wrapping up a story about a guy who had fallen from a ferris wheel and been killed when he struck his head on the way down, despite gently landing in the bouncy house nearby.\n\nDick shook his head. \"Poor, unlucky bastard.\"\n\nTom sat down on the couch, his shoulders slumped. Dick joined him, two more beers in hand, for their nightly lotto tradition.\n\n\"Think I'll get all the numbers tonight?\" Dick asked.\n\n\"No way,\" replied Tom. \"You're not that lucky. *No one* is lucky enough to win twice.\"\n\n\"Says who? My neighbor hit the jackpot *three* times, when I lived on Dayton Street. He bought all the kids in the neighborhood new bikes. And he gave all the adults a new car. My mom got an orange Lambo, but I think he was hoping she'd sleep with him.\"\n\n\"Did she?\"\n\n\"Yeah, I think she did. But Dad never found out.\"\n\n\"Lucky,\" said Tom.\n\n\"No kidding. He'd have made me give back that sweet BMX.\"\n\nThe music came up on the television, signaling that it was finally time for the Power Jackpot drawing. Tom was saying something, but Dick shushed him to silence.\n\nHe held up the tickets in front of him:\n\n> 18 9 71 4 44 89\n> 78 11 41 1 8 12\n\n\"The first number is 13,\" said the announcer as the attractive blond on screen settled the ball at the top of its tube.\n\n\"The second number is 9.\"\n\nTom looked at Dick, gave him a thumbs up.\n\nThe announcer read off three more numbers: 7 3 4.\n\nTom and Dick both leaned forward, waiting with baited breath as the announcer let the silence drag out. Finally the woman on screen took the final step to the side and held her hand out over the last tube. She straightened out the ball, concealing its value from the camera with her fingers. She gave the audience at home a teasing smile.\n\n\"And the Power number tonight is...,\" the announcer paused for a moment more, as he did every night, \"23.\"\n\n\"How'd you do, dude? How'd you do?\"\n\n\"Once again, your Power Jackpot numbers for tonight are 3, 4, 7, 9, 13, and your Power number is **23**. Congratulations to all you winners out there, we'll see you tomorrow night with your next set of winning numbers.\"\n\nDick stared at the tickets. He'd won twenty bucks on this one, which he flipped over and signed right away. And the other one...\n\nTom had crowded over next to him to get a better look. They both looked from the second ticket to the television screen that was still flashing the winning numbers, then back to the ticket.\n\nThe Chyron scrolling across the bottom of the screen was reporting that there had been seven-hundred-and-eighty-four Power Jackpot Mega Winners, which was followed by the 800 number they could call to enter their bank account information for instant transfer.\n\n\"No way,\" Dick was saying as...\n\nTom said, \"Bro, I gotta go.\"\n\n\"Where are you going?\" Dick said, turning toward the door where Tom was putting on his jacket.\n\n\"I don't know. My folks house. Or maybe to Cindy's. Actually, you know what. I'm not going to either. Definitely not to either of those places. Safer if you don't know.\"\n\n\"Come on, dude,\" said Dick, cracking another beer. \"It's just one losing ticket.\"\n\nBut the door was already slamming shut behind Tom.\n\n\"Pussy,\" Dick said, flicking the TV over to ESPN2 to catch the end of the Yankees-Rangers game. All tied up at fifty-two apiece, top of the twenty-eighth.\n\n*Is that gas?* Dick said, sniffing the air with a shrug. *Nah, couldn't be.*\n\nDick lit another cigarette."
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[WP] You're the monster under the bed, and your job is to scare those who sleep over you. This person isn't scared of you. They have a crush on you.
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"I watched her crawl back into bed, stumbling in again from wherever the liquor poured. Her addiction to the bottle stronger then the smell coated on her skin, a perfume so strong making me momentarily gagged as my eyes watered. Flaring my teeth in disgust, I tossed the covers off me. Stretching my legs and wiping the sleep away from my eyes as the moonlight peaked through the blinds.\n\nShe silently sobbed a woeful tale, talking to the pictures on her wall, telling of a time as distant as my morality. Tonight she decided to not smash them against the already pot marked drywall. A familiar rattle of sleeping pills followed by the sound of a bottle clinking around broke the momentarily silence, an all to familiar nightly ritual. Cracking my grotesque knuckles, I fixed my freakishly long eye brows to guarantee full effect, a feeling of joy came over me as I prepared once more, like so many nights.\n\nCurling up with an old memento, a doll with a missing limb, half melted from an old travesty I'm sure. As lifeless as the figurine she began to quiet as the self medication took effect, as I waited for my moment. Priming my arms and legs, I sprang to life. Bouncing out from under her bed with my arms stretched wide, and a smile on my face. The anxiety of seeing an old friend another night finally fading away as I saw her sleeping face. \n\nHer reaction quiet lifeless as I crawled next to her night stand, gently poking her to attain her attention. Yet she continued to sleep away my greeting. Most unusual as I gave a firmer rattle, letting out a nervous chuckle my smile faded. I noticed her breathing absent, my claws prodding her chest to wake her.\n\nA slow dread overcame me as my throats ran dry. My growl turned to a shout as I shook her about now, tossing her from the bed with ease and my monstrous hands began to pump on her chest. Wishing for my old friend to respond, wishing for another nightly chat like so many times before. "
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I'd love to see responses from multiple perspectives, like the Gov, the couple in the scenarios, or even third parties.
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[WP] Online dating and population density have eliminated the sense of 'serendipity,' essential for pair bonding. The government has taken to faking novel or dangerous events to encourage relationships to form.
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"\"Target making it's way to Sector Four. Prepare for re-routing, over.\"*click* Sarah had been appointed the lead coordinator for the government's new initiative, Operation Hurtlove.\n\nSarah was getting used to tearing out her measly few grey hairs that she had accumulated from this new position, but she knew she was doing the country a favour. She was a true patriot.\n\n\"Target on-route to Danger Zone, hoist the payload, over.\"*click* She just wanted people to love each other, have a family. Sarah was helping people get what she could never have...\n\n\"Payload in place, awaiting drop time, over.\"*click* Sarah was diagnosed as infertile two years before she took her new job, hoping she could make a difference.\n\n\"Target in place, drop the payload in three, two, o-\" \"HOLD THE PAYLOAD! I REPEA-\"*click*\n\nSarah never saw the poor girl walk into the hot zone.\n\n________________________________________________________________\n\nI'm new to /r/writingprompts, if you have any advice, I am all ears!",
"The phone buzzes in my pocket and I feel a pang of laziness. I'd much rather sit here, nursing this exquisitely dark Peruvian roast with a good book in hand, enjoying the warm serenity that settles here in the dead of January nights when the bitter cold sets in... but then, I didn't sign up for this job to read Chaucer. I'm here to make love happen.\n\nI dig the phone out of my pocket - as I expected, it's work - and swipe to open the file. Jacob Gainsley, aged 23, self-declared robotics major. The picture isn't much, but he's a lean boy and I can tell he has no idea what to do with his hair. He opened an OKCupid profile just before Christmas - a concession to his worrisome mother, I imagine - and has yet to do anything with it. Analytics puts him as an altruist, few predilections to violence or paranoia. Perfect for a Type D encounter. I stifle an exasperated growl and try my best to savor the Peruvian as I polish it off before hitting \"Accept\".\n\nWalking briskly to the intercept, I survey the data being fed to me real-time. Young Jacob's slated to take the midnight crosstown back to campus after his night shift at the \"barcade\". I still don't know what would possess someone to come up with such a ludicrous venture, much less work there, but data tracking can only tell you so much. My phone rings as I duck into a corner to change.\n\n\"Eli, this is Central. You sure you're up for a Type D again? You know what happened last time.\"\n\n\"All in the name of Love, Margie.\" I grunt as I cinch my body armor on, the winter night sucking heat from my torso as I stuff my civilian jacket into my clean rucksack. I make sure it's zipped neatly before reaching for the stinking gym bag. \"I've got my eyedrops, my ribs are healed up, and remember - we *do* have dental.\"\n\n\"Please don't joke about that,\" she pleads. \"Anyway, we've got a candidate set up for the rendezvous. Same school, different department. Analytics has them at 85% compatibility, and this'll be our best shot at lining them up for a while, what with the post-Christmas effect. I really hate to scare the poor girl...\"\n\n\"I'll be gentle,\" I assure her, trying my best not to dwell on Margie's fears. We're all bleeding hearts in this business, even the field agents. Despite my assurances, however, I do have to play my part. I set the phone down for a moment as I tuck my rolled-up balaclava over my carbon-fiber skullcap. My crusty work jacket still smells like Mace, but I grudgingly enjoy the fit.\n\n\"Fine. I'm forwarding you her picture - Traffic Control has her at 7th Street in five minutes if she doesn't jaywalk. Start the tail there and we should be able to get Jacob in sight at 10th Street.\"\n\n\"Affirmative. Call you when I'm done.\" I flick open my prop knife and test the retracting blade against my thigh.\n\n\"Just so we're clear... you know they don't pay you enough for these stunts, right?\"\n\n\"Someone's got to do it.\" I hang up with a flourish and turn on my watch.\n\n---\n\nShe's a petite little raven of a girl, dark hair and a crimson coat. Probably just a little more well-off than Jacob, judging by the quality, but that's probably somewhere in the missing 15% compatibility. Nothing that can't be handled. She's nose-deep in her phone, clacking heels echoing in the still winter street as my rubber soles follow silently. I keep my eye on the opposite sidewalk as I follow her, watching for possible interference. Last thing I need is some random ex-Marine beating me half to death and ruining another perfectly good romance. I'd rather deal with that than a gun, but the two seem to correlate disturbingly often. We cross 9th and, like clockwork, the light at 10th turns red. I check the watch, then look up to confirm - Jacob's across the street, right on time. I look back up and steel myself, gripping the prop knife.\n\nShe takes two steps past the curb, and in a frozen moment I worry - before I hear brakes screech and a black car strikes a red coat.\n\nEverything shifts. I stuff the knife and sprint to her side. The driver's stepped out, suit and tie, holding his hands over his mouth, babbling his innocence. His drunken passengers are screaming and cursing. I can't make out any words - I'm too focused on the girl. Her head's fine, but her arm looks bent at a bad angle. Someone skids up next to me and shakes me by the shoulder. I can't hear the first thing he says, but his voice comes into focus as I look up. \n\n\"What can I do to help?\"\n\nOh, Jacob. You stupid, wonderful, beautiful boy.\n\n\"Stay with her,\" I command, bearing all the stern fury of King Lear. \"Keep her talking, and keep her head upright. Don't touch the arm. I'll get help.\" Without another word, I bolt upright, fishing out my phone. The driver tries to grab me, panicking, still stammering about how it wasn't his fault. The interruption enrages me and I decide it'd be dramatically appropriate to slug him right in the mouth. I resist the urge to glance back and confirm what I already know - Jacob's gonna tell her about that part.\n\n---\n\nThe station coffee smells amateur, at best. I've given my statement, and I'll be free to go once the paperwork gets back. The cops know about my clearance. I just hope a real brigand doesn't make off with my coat before morning.\n\nAn ember of doubt sizzles in my mind, and at last I surrender to it. I pick up the phone and dial Margie.\n\n\"Eli! Thank God you're alri-\"\n\n\"Did Traffic Control set this up?\"\n\nShe doesn't answer for a moment. \"Eli... Eli, you know we'd never do that.\"\n\n\"Do I?\"\n\n\"For fuck's sake, Eli, it was an accident! A genuine, honest-to-god accident! Just because they're rare doesn't mean they're impossible!\"\n\nI seethe aimlessly for a moment, pondering. I know she's telling the truth - she gets that waver in her voice when she's scared, and she's never scared when she lies. I just can't shake the feeling. But for Margie's sake, I still my temper with a practiced laugh.\n\n\"You should have seen him, Margie. He was magnificent. Never left her side. I'll give 'em three weeks before they get together.\" I stare into my pitiful, untouched cup, hypothesizing. A smile settles onto my lips.\n\nMargie sighs, relieved. \"That's... that's great. I just wish they didn't have to get in these kinds of situations. The ones we set up, I mean.\"\n\nI grin, remembering Shakespeare. \"*If thou rememb’rest not the slightest folly that ever love did make thee run into, thou hast not loved.*\"\n\nI drink the coffee. It tastes wonderful.",
"“You really think this is going to work?” Lisa bit her lip, wondering.\n\n“Yeah, well I hope so.” Jason laughed nervously.\n\n“I guess it’s odd that they stuck two rookies like us on this case, huh.” She mused.\n\n“I-I think we’re definitely capable.” He stammered.\n\nLisa rolled her eyes. Jason had always been so anxious about everything when they were in training together. She was interrupted from her thoughts as to how dorky Jason was by a loud beep from her control panel. “Hey, They’re coming.” She gently smacked Jason’s chest, startling him and making him spill coffee over himself. “Oh, Sorry.”\n\n“Nah, it’s-” He coughed and wiped his mouth with his sleeve.”It’s fine.”\n\nLisa hovered over the control panel to make it look like she was working on something so that she didn’t have to watch Jason clean up after himself. She told herself that it was a stupid project they had to work on anyways. ‘I mean, let people be people. We can’t tear them away from their phones anyway.’ She thought. \n\nA man and woman were walking towards each other from opposite directions. They were on their phones, not even paying attention to where they were going. Lisa and Jason were in charge of exploding a nearby building to hopefully bring these two people together, but the thought of pushing the button terrified her. HQ told them it’d be safe to do it, but neither of them had ever detonated a bomb before.\n\n“I guess we should do it then, right?” Lisa reached for the button.\n\n“Wait.”Jason grabbed her wrist.\n\n“What are you doing?” She shook her hand out of his grip.\n\n“They’re not nearly close enough to each other yet. If you detonate it now, they won’t even acknowledge each other.”\n\nShe begrudgingly agreed with him and waited but she was getting antsy. ‘Stupid jerk, I always get so flustered whenever he’s right and-’ Her thoughts were interrupted when Jason suddenly exclaimed.\n\n“Now!”\n\nShe stumbled for the button and jammed it down, eyes closed, cringing away from the control panel. Her yelling was inaudible compared to the sound of the exploding building. Meanwhile the unidentified woman squealed, tripping on her heels and consequently dropping her phone. The unidentified man looked up and ran over to catch her. \n\nLisa calmed down and opened her eyes. The building was down, the man had caught the woman in a dip, which looked quite romantic, and it was all over. She let out a deep breath and could hear Jason breathing heavily next to her. They grinned at each other. She glanced over at the control panel, noticing that her hand was still on the button...and Jason’s hand was on hers.\n\nThey both withdrew their hands at the same time, laughing nervously and blushing. Maybe this project wasn’t so stupid after all...\n"
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[WP] After it's release, Pokemon Go became more popular than anyone could imagine. In the year 2500, the Cult of the Helix is the dominant religion on Earth.
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"Bjorn Slakingsson kicked in the door with the heel of his foot. His eyes quickly made out 3 feminine figures huddled up against the wall. Thick incense smoke seeped out from the opening as he stepped inside. The room was unadorned, save for a few pieces of furniture here and there. Typical. They always got it wrong. \n\nWhen the purification era was in its heydey, the heretics went into hiding, their political pleas ignored. Bjorn's unit had been created to hunt down and neutralize these hidden enclaves. In the early days those who still practiced the old gods (Vishnu, Muhammad, Christ, etc) would build elaborate hidden rooms and secret passages. With modern technology, however, those rooms were easily found and destroyed. They grew craftier, and adapted to the changing circumstances. Unfortunately, the laws of evolution stepped in. As the prey became faster, the predators kept pace with their own improvements. Hidden rooms became unfeasible and the old worshipers opted instead to hold their icons of worship in ordinary rooms. \n\nThis room was nothing out of the ordinary, with its standard Blu-ray TV and leather couch. However, after 23 years of service, Bjorn had learned to notice the subtle signs. The books on the shelf were perfectly ordered. The glasses on the wall perfectly aligned. The table in front of him was neat and clean, glistening with what seemed to be oil. Too clean. The more people tried to make a room seem 'ordinary', the more unnatural it seemed. Bjorn prided himself on being on e of the first to notice this phenomenon. A situation he lovingly dubbed the \"uncanny couch\"(a term that no one but himself used), after Masahiro Mori's Uncanny Valley. Holy places of worship hold a special place of reverence for followers, which further boosted the tendency to keep praying rooms well ordered. His partner patted him in the back and started writing up the report. The women were still frozen in the same position they had initially been in . It was nearing dusk so Bjorn eased himself onto the couch. His thoughts were already of home and hearth. One of the women gave him a look of pure concentrated hatred. Bjorn felt a pang of pity for what was to come for them. When the People's Revolution had come, change was swift and brutal. Followers of the old gods were markred and tracked. A 10 year plan involving trillions of dollars initiated a restructuring of society from top to bottom, Re-education school became mandatory for 3 years for all citizens. Those who stuck to their old faith were dealt with an iron fist. They needed to be harsh. Decades later, however, pockets of resistance remained. However, with half the world converted, society's stance had softened somewhat.These women would be shipped to Florida and de-radicalized. It would be a hard few years ahead of them for sure but they would eventually be reintroduced into society once they proved themselves. As his gaze casually shifted a glimmer of light caught something under the table in front of him. A blur movement and a shot rang out. His kneecap shattered against the hot bullet and Bjorn knew pain. A second shot delivered to his gut knocked the breath out of him. His partner crumpled in his peripheral, as Bjorn struggled to stay conscious under the blackening pain. His eyes rolled to the side as he finally got a good look at the piece of metal. Carved from gold, it looked much like a Charmander, but Bjorn was too old and too worldly to be fooled. He had seen that creature a thousand times in textbooks. As his vision flickered and the black tunnel grew longer, Agumon stared back at him. And then he knew what he saw. Digimon."
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[WP] You can stop time, along with everyone else in the world. Describe your average day.
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"Hello my name is… well I guess I really shouldn’t say that on the internet since in case anyone ever really believes me it’s harder to find me. I figured it couldn’t hurt to right about myself on the internet because of the saturation of information will bury this before long but I want to talk about it. Generally I go throughout life as an average person but I hold a secret that gives me an edge. To put it simply I can stop time. It’s that simple and yes I know whatever explains this power can’t be that simple but I don’t have a masters in the laws of physics or am I able to explain why and how what I can do is possible.\n\nI learned at a young age around the time I was getting into about sixth grade that I could make everyone around me stop in place. It was fun and I would pull pranks, simple ones like writing over the board or making the teacher’s writing read the wrong answer right before I raise my hand and correct them. If you’ve ever had the teacher put you on the spot than you know it would be nice to have a little extra time to think, or occasionally look up the answer in the book. All that was small time however, I really came to understand my powers more throughout Junior High and High School.\n\nIt sounds like an incredible power doesn’t it? Stopping time, moving things, going places without ever losing a second but there are limitations. One of my earlier plans was to get on the bus go home and play video games but turning the system or TV on it wouldn’t respond not until I eased up on my power, which ended up giving me no extra time and another long walk back to school. I could also take anything I wanted but I soon realized that doing it too often or blatantly would get me in trouble. My mother wondered where I had gotten the newest gaming system when I didn’t work and she soon had me return the system assuming that I had stolen it. Boy, I was grounded for half a year for that but I’ll tell you I spent more time outside my room than I did inside it.\n\nSo I got better at disguising my ‘oddity’ from my parents, but not completely they always knew I was ‘different’ but they thought that was in a different way. I had friends but I never shared that with them. I thought they might think of me differently maybe or think I was a freak. Most others at school thought I was since I always seemed to be in a rush or scatter brained. I would often think of what to do when freezing time next so you could say my head was up in the clouds. I was bullied like most kids in school, almost everyone has a bully or someone that just doesn’t like them so that’s not unusual but it stopped one day when I grew angry enough to fight back. I won the fight with help of my ability but again I had learned hiding it was better than flat out abusing it. The next day when I was jumped by him and two of his other buddies I found out another limitation. I wasn’t some superhero that could stop danger that I didn’t know was coming so the cheap shot to the back of my head that sent me down reeling ended up being a much closer fight until I could concentrate. Their mistake was letting up for a moment to taunt me. I won’t lie, I froze time and cried tried moving and it wasn’t going well but I allowed myself to move slowly and get in position. I learned that hurting someone while time was frozen would also end up beating the hell out of them in an instant. I’m glad I didn’t push my frustrations to the point that I killed them, but when I let go of my hold on time they crumpled to the ground. I stood above them scowling mostly in pain but I made it clear if they didn’t kill me I would also inflict the pain they did to me back two fold.\n\nFrom that time on I never had a trouble with bullies at least physically, but there were whispers about me that I could take on three people at once and I had beaten them so bad they couldn’t remember getting their ass kicked. Was nice to be feared for a time but I think in the long run it probably wasn’t worth it. When I got out of school, I had a good feel for my powers limits and knew that abusing them I might eventually get caught locked away so I tried to be careful about it. It changed when I met Samantha. I could say that it was love at first sight but that would only be a half-truth because I can’t remember the exact moment that I knew I wanted to be with her. Maybe I had noticed her when we had gone to the same high school or maybe when I ran into her when working at a local library.\n\nSo I know you may be wondering what the heck I was doing at a library but let me put it to you this way. Say you stop time and you want some form of entertainment. You’re past the childish games of changing people’s objects in their hands, changing the placement of chairs, or putting people in awkward positions. Ok maybe I do that sometimes but not as often honest. Anyways I can bring out my cell phone but it doesn’t have a signal, I can’t use a bus, or a train it just doesn’t move. So whenever I needed information my best option was books. I have all the time in the world to browse, and really its one of the best ways I found to send my stopped time. Well one day I ended up reading myself to sleep and woke up to letting me know that I wasn’t allowed to sleep here. Checking the time I cursed for I was supposed to be at my sister’s birthday party but figured I’d take some time to stop by the library. I hadn’t known until this point if I went to the point of exhaustion that time would begin to flow normally again.\n\nSamantha shushed me and I gave a wry smile realizing I was still in a library. Apologizing I went on my way that day. Next time I came back in ‘real time’ Samantha was working again. I went about my usual business of gathering tons of books and then closed my eyes briefly and got to reading. It wasn’t until probably about twenty real time minutes later I looked up and it looked like she was headed my direction. Perplexed as to why she might have been walking towards me when I froze time I allowed it to revert to normal and acted like I was deep in my book.\n\n“You know every time you come here, I’ve noticed you pick out an abnormally large amount of books. Then you never put them back, and you don’t spend more than a few minutes reading the first one you picked out of the pile, would it hurt you to just grab one? Or maybe put the others back if you are done with them?” she asked. I was taken aback that someone had noticed and inwardly chastised myself but for some reason I decided in that moment to hint at my secret. Maybe it was to impress a pretty face.\n\n“I’m a fast reader,” I said simply choosing to remain elusive. She pressed her glasses further up onto her cute nose and a hand on her hip at that point. Way to impress the ladies right? “Unless you just broke the world record for speed reading, I sincerely doubt that. You didn’t answer my question though,” she pressed.\n\nI frowned clearly not having made the impression I had thought to be clever. “Alright I’ll put these books away if you can find a book in this library that I can’t read in a few minutes,” I said confidently. She seemed to give this thought for a second and then grinned for a moment. “How about the telling me about this book?”\n\nShe pulled from a nearby shelf a goosebumps book. Truthfully I hadn’t read too many of them, and that’s probably what she was banking on that I wouldn’t read younger fiction. I smiled at looked at the cover for a moment seeing that it was one of the less known ones. Or at least one I hadn’t read yet. “Well beware, because I think you are in for a scare,” I said playfully mimicking the goosebumps motto each book would warn to its readers. I took the book from her hands and then flipped through each page rapidly until I got to the last page as if I was some superhuman that could comprehend a page at a time then I stopped time at the last page and went about actually reading the book. It had the usual end twist that always happened to leave you wondering, and I made a note I’d have to get back into the series whenever I had the spare time. Ha, spare time. So I told her the book and even quoted a few pages word for word and their page numbers to prove it. \n\n“There’s something different about you,” she said taking the book back and carefully placing it back where it had been on the shelf moments before. “Your right, I am secretly the master of time and space,” I jested making a joke of it. It got a smile form her and that was more than I had hoped at this point. So things went like this for a while until I got the courage to actually ask her out. I still used most of my powers selfishly to magically have roses, or put our name on the list in a fancy restaurant. She always said there was something different about me as if there was something else to me. I wasn’t willing to share with her my secret until about two years into our relationship. She was obviously skeptical at first but I managed to convince her with a series of tests. She asked me to try and bring her with me. I was surprised I had never tried that but maybe I just hadn’t trusted anyone with my secret.\n\nAfter a bit of trial and error it actually worked. I was happy that I had the ability to share this world with, because in truth it could get lonely stopping time and that’s why I would always return to real time. I was able to spend a lot more time with just us and for a time everything was great, but with so many great things there comes an end. \n"
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[WP] It turns out Jesus really did exist and his reason for being gone so long is that he's been traveling the universe and "rising from the dead" on every planet with life
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"With enough repetition, any job, no matter how difficult, can be made simple through routine. Infamous galactic conman Jesus Christ had gone almost beyond that point, turning his racket into something close to an art form. His “business idea” was simple, travel through the Milky Way, stopping every few thousand lightyears, and look around a bit for a planet with some primitive life forms to trick. Now, with the creation of the United Galactic Federation a few Millenia back, the job had become a bit harder. Jesus had to make sure that any planets he visited were not only unregistered, but far enough away from interplanetary communication that he could fully enact his scheme. But anyway, once he found a particularly stupid bunch of critters on some rock, he would park his car on a nearby moon, disguise himself to look convincingly like a native, and then spend a few years on the planet. The hardest part was living with the savages, most of whom had little to no technology. He would hang around for a bit, figure out some of the culture of the people, and do a few magic tricks to convince them he was a deity. (Most of the time all it took was a simple reanimation). Once this part was finished, he would give a few lectures about morality, (he liked to believe he was doing a public service as justification for his crimes), and zip off to find a new victim. Wait a few millennia, and boom Jesus would return to the planet, which usually had a religion or some form of culture based around him, and quickly convince them to sell him the rights to their planet for a bargain. Planets still went for a lot even during times of economic hardship, so the whole scheme, though it took quite a while, was very profitable.\n\nNow, re-entering the Sol system, Jesus noticed that the third planet from the sun, one he had visited about 2,000 years ago, was due for the follow-up visit. He quickly decelerated and parked on the moon, noticing what looked like a few abandoned campsites, which meant he had made it back just in time. Hopefully, he thought, these idiots hadn’t moved too far past their own moon, and he would be able to close the deal with little interference. Descending to the surface, he noticed a few sprawling cities, but nothing advanced enough to cause much concern. Annoyingly, the surface was comprised of mainly water, which would indubitably ruin his nice leather seats, but he knew that those could be replaced. Now, an important decision: what language to broadcast in. Last time he had been here, he had had to find a strategic point between several large landmasses, and speak their language, Aramaic. Now, he figured, a quick scan should show him the most commonly understood language, as it didn’t really matter at this point. Taking a few deep breaths and clearing his throat, Jesus Christ turned on his planetary microphone and proclaimed, \n\n“Hello, uh, people. I am Jesus Christ and I have returned with, err, good tidings.” He quickly covered the planet with a thick layer of storm-clouds, to set the mood. He always forgot to do that first.\n\n“The coming battle of good and evil, and satan, and all them, has, uh, commenced.” He really couldn’t remember what nonsense he had fed these people, but he figured those motifs were a pretty good guess.\n\n“My children, in order to vanquish these guys, we’ve gotta all die and fight them in heaven, so I’m just gonna get this process moving along. I’d like to speak to some world leaders if y’all don’t mind.” That sounded good enough, he thought to himself, and waited for any sort of response.\n\nWithin a few hours, he noticed large fires erupting in some of the cities he had noticed earlier, and figured he should check out the chaos. Strangely, the people here did not seem to be very unified at all. Running through the streets shooting at each other with what looked like pellet guns, these people seemed to have little to no crisis management ability. Figuring that he should take matters into his own hands, Jesus searched up the names and locations of the biggest governments. There were two he considered visiting, but their weird symbols looked hard to talk, and he didn’t feel like having to learn any more languages. Third on the list was “The United States of America” a phrase that seemed to be written in English, so he decided to visit their leader in his White House. Jesus wondered if other people in the United States were allowed to live in white houses or not. Either way, upon landing in front of the building, his car was sprayed with pellets, some of which did considerable damage to his windshield.\n\n“Cut that out!” He yelled as more bullets rained down upon him. These people seemed excessively violent. The men shooting him seemed to ignore his request, so Jesus ignored them, slamming open the front doors and marching towards what he assumed to be the office of the leader. Again, to his annoyance, he was shot with hundreds of little bullets.\n\n“Listen up, man, I’m a busy guy with a busy schedule, and I’m tired of waiting around. I need all of your world’s leaders in here, and I have a few things I need to sort out. Got it?” barked the exasperated Christ, a statement which was a met with only a timid, “Yes sir” from the President of the United States. Jesus was not usually one to get impatient, but something about these people really bothered him. After upwards of 6 hours of waiting, when what appeared to be a cluster of world leaders had congregated in the room, he snapped and declared the beginning of the meeting.\n\n“Alright people, listen up. I am the Jesus Christ of your legends, as I said earlier. The end is nigh, the final battle between the Dark Side and the Light is coming, and I need your help. That’s why, to make things quick, I have put together a contract, which basically says that you guys agree to die and help me, as is your, uh, cosmic purpose and such. Anyone care to read it?”\n\nA short man wearing a black suit and an extremely small hat stepped forward and began to read:\n\n\"We, the democratically elected leaders of the third planet of the Star System Sol, do consensually, and with full understanding of UGF standards and procedures,- \n\n“What’s UGF?” asked someone in the back.\n\n“That’s, errr, the United… God Force.” replied Jesus, impressed with his own improvisational skills.\n\n-and with full understanding of UGF standards and procedures, sign over full ownership rights, both mineral and biological, of said planet, to Mister Jesus H. Christ, unconditionally, and irrevocably.”\n\n“I’ll give you gentlemen some time to think that over,” Jesus stated calmly, “And I’ll be ready to make it official when you are.”\n\nThe congregated leaders of earth huddled up, and began discussing the matter amongst themselves, unaware that Jesus was using an eavesdropping device to listen in.\n\nA Christian fundamentalist from Alabama, there only because other world leaders had failed to show, began the conversation, stating, “Folks, I believe this man to be the antichrist, come to lead our people on the path of the devil.” Annoyed, Jesus quickly evaporated the idiot, not understanding why any good religion would need to be so convoluted as to have an “anti-savior”.\n\nNext, the Pope spoke up, whispering, “My friends, we at the vatican would like to wash our hands of this whole affair, and revoke our association with this man. I, personally, did not believe that he existed, and I do not think it is in the interests of the world’s Catholics to follow his commands.” Jesus did not like hearing this, but refrained from killing a second time, so as not to intimidate the people. Aggravated and impatient, Jesus stopped listening in, remembering how stubborn the earthlings had been on his first visit.\n\nFinally, the huddle broke up, and the world’s leaders came forward to continue negotiations. The man with the tiny hat stepped forward, saying, “We have discussed your proposal, Mr. Christ, and are interested in the deal. However, we will need some form of compensation if this thing is going to work out.”\n\nIndignant, Jesus yelled, “Compensation? Why would you be asking for money right now! You’re all going to die!”\n\n“Aha, sir, you may have misread the document, but it specifically says the deal must be made ‘consensually’. For our consent, we request no less than 149 trillion dollars. We hope that seems fair to you.\"\n\nAbsolutely stunned, Jesus retorted, “I AM THE LORD YOUR GOD, YOU SHALL NOT DISOBEY ME!”\n\nA man with a very big hat stepped forward, and, not making eye contact, said, “Not all of us believe in you, I myself am a Muslim and-“\n\n“SON OF A BITCH” yelled the infuriated Christ. He knew that Mohammad, that copycat, had been using his shtick for a while now, but he never knew that he had ventured this far out in the galaxy. “JUST SIGN THE PAPER AND NOBODY ELSE DIES!”\n\nReluctantly, the politicians filed forward, and, one by one, scrawled their signatures on the document. When the last signatures had dried, Jesus snatched the paper, stormed out of the office, and quickly got back into his car. He would definitely be reporting Mohammad to the authorities for this one. But whatever, he thought, speeding away towards the nearest galactic payphone, he would send over Bruno and the boys to doze the planet in a few days, and if all went well, he could see this whole affair bringing in quite a bit of money. But, the dedicated scoundrel that he was, the job was never over. Stopping near Alpha Centauri, the search for some new suckers had just begun."
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[WP] With no warning at all, all the planes in the sky just stop. You are on board one of those planes.
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"The plane shook again harder than last time. I put down my head and concentrated more. Seven letters word, to annoy by constant scolding, complaining or urging. I was sweating as if I was back at high school and a teacher demanded my opinion in front of the class. I had forgotten the answer for this crossword but who cares this is such a boring game made for boring people. Suddenly the plane fell for about two seconds, sufficient time to see my life flashbacking before my eyes. Sufficient to say I was back with the pen in my right hand, stupid game.\n\nA sweet old woman named Marta sitting by myside left a sigh of relief when we stabilized.\n\n“Darling is this normal? It´s my first time in an airplane.” She asked.\n\n“Nothing to worry, it´s perfectly fine for this much turbulence. If you find a way to get used to it, please let me know.” I said with a little wink trying to muster a smile.\n\nOut of nowhere, I heard a loud bang and felted a hard thrust in my belly where the seatbelt pressed firmly. Dizzied a looked out of the window and to my disbelief we had stopped just above a small set of clouds, when I tell you we were stopped it is not a figuratively stop, we were literally not moving midair in a freaking plane.\n\n Now a lot of crying and screaming was happening in the plane. Marta was clearly dead by myside, I´m not a doctor although I am pretty sure our necks are not supposed to bend like that. I was trying to access the situation, many bodies not moving, and a lot of people looking straight ahead breathing heavily and two very muscular guys standing trying to help a woman and a kid.\n\n“Hello fellow’s passengers if you are alive be grateful, you were selected to be in my team in a very special competition, once you are all settled in I will explain the rules and my strategy for us.“ One wicked voice said this in a very disturbing way in the sound system of the plane.\n\n“One more thing I forgot to say, you can’t leave the plane till I come back. I´m counting on you Erick Müller to keep your teammates from doing something stupid in the meantime and ruin our chances!” He said again with his sick voice moments before the sky we were safely parked burst into flames.\n\nI will never forget this moment. I´m Erick Müller.\n",
"It was a spooky sound. The usual roar of the engines struggled and then spun down. The plane groaned, metal stretching out and the feeling that we were slowing down.\n\nPeople were panicking but it was difficult to do anything against the force that was stopping the plane, strong enough to keep you in your seat but thankfully not enough to have broken the plane up. \n\nEveryone was quiet when we stopped. I think we were all afraid to break the spell: a miracle had just happened, both engines quit, the plane lost the forward momentum that keeps planes in the air. But here we all were, still in the air.\n\nSomeone screamed again when we started sinking.\n\n\"Shut up!\"\n\n\"Up yours! We're going to die!\"\n\n\"We're not sinking that fast!\"\n\n\"How can you tell, we're miles up!\"\n\n\"I didn't feel us speed up--\"\n\n\"Like what you feel means anything--\"\n\nAt this point a stewardess had thrown open the door (which a few of us knew was supposed to be impossible at altitude) and I watched her take her running start to jump out of the plane.\n\nExcept she kept on running, cartoon style, out into the air.\n\nShe stopped and started sinking, she was panicking, and you could tell she was having trouble breathing. She must have started kicking by instinct, and we watched her slowly gain altitude again against the air and she was able to heave into the open door.\n\nThe captain had come out of the cockpit. He reached out and pulled the door closed, and the First Officer and Senior Flight Attendant tried to give some comfort to the woman who had jumped, ran out of the plane.\n\n\"Your attention please, everyone,\" the captain shouted down the plane. \"We're on battery so I'm trying to conserve it, so sorry about not using the intercom.\n\n\"This is what's coming in over the radio. Something's happened to the air. Word is spreading pretty fast: There was an accident down on the ground, some lab was running an experiment and they did something that catalyzed the atmosphere into--\" he looked down to some handwritten notes \"--a different phase. Happened about an hour ago, they've been tweeting about the damn thing, trying to warn everyone. The change is finally happening up here.\" He looked at his notes again. \"Anyone know what 'oobleck' is? They say it's like that.\"\n\n\"Yeah, I'm a middle school science teacher. It's that cornstarch and water stuff. You can pour it like water, but if you try to punch it, it's hard. Fill a pool with it and...\"\n\n\"And?\"\n\n\"You can run across it. It's almost solid.\"\n\nSome people looked at the flight attendant who had run out of the plane, some looked away.\n\n\"My kids played with that stuff, I know what you're talking about,\" the First Officer said. It gets hard when you apply a force to it, explains why the engines crapped out. And it explains why we aren't sinking any faster, we've probably already hit terminal velocity.\"\n\n\"And why we can still breathe. But the harder you inhale, the stiffer the air gets, and then you have trouble.\"\n\n\"... yeah. That's what it felt like.\" The Flight Attendant spoke up. \"I felt like I was going to black out, and when I couldn't breathe as hard, uh, it was easier to breathe? Does that make sense?\"\n\n\"Let's get back to the controls, Mack. Everyone, please get back to your seat. I'm not going to insult your intelligence with the 'fasten seat belts' sign, okay?\"\n\nThe plane's APU was enough to power the control surfaces, to control our glide down, even though the jet engines would never work again. When we made it to the ground there was a lot of damage: engines had blown up, anything that worked by compressing or forcing air that was more powerful than a ceiling fan would never work again. But the Air Change happened slowly enough that there weren't supersonic windstorms, although later the scientists would say the length of the day had changed by some fraction, and the sweltering summer did not give way to fall that year. Lots of people died as distribution channels were broken when the vehicles they depended on were ruined, as crops weren't harvested by dead machines. It would be a generation before industry finally reestablished on a new foundation of technologies that didn't depend on compression engines. \n\nBut humanity went on. Internal Combustion gave way to solar and electric motors; most pneumatics were able to be replaced by hydraulics, even if it was more messy and expensive. Kids learned to jump into the air and lean back at the top of their arcs, and the air would catch them and sink them slowly to the ground, and if you were good you could gain quite a bit of height, just by \"swimming\" before your mom would tell you to \"swim down and *be careful*!\"\n\nJet engines never worked again, of course. If you lived to see it, you were amazed by the new aircraft, and you made your share of Ben Hur jokes: sleek bodies with huge wings, and wide oars coming out of the sides, that would shift thin to cut through the oobleck-air, and then turn paddle to push against it. Not very fast, but it became the only way to fly."
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[WP] You discover that you have an incredible set of superpowers. The catch? They only work when you are incredibly dramatic about using them.
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"*Whiz. Whiz. Whiz*\n\nBullets were flying over my head as I ran through the long and narrow hallway. Behind me, at the beginning of the corridor, stood three men in black suits armed with gold plated Desert Eagles. They were nonchalantly shooting at me, knowing full well I had nowhere to run. There were no doors I could go through. It was a dead end, save for a window at the end of the hall, which would be pointless since we were on the 6th floor.\n\nI stopped and turned around, facing the hitmen. With a breath of confidence, I pumped my chest and put my hands on my hip, trying to go for the good-ole steel skin. I saw the man in the middle look to his partners and smirk. They stopped shooting at me, but the man in the middle took good aim and fired a shot. It hit me square in the shoulder.\n\n*Fuck.*\n\nI turned around again, and with nowhere else to run, I headed straight for the window at the end of the hallway. The bullets continued to whiz by me.\n\n*This better fucking work.*\n\nI jumped head first into the window and shattered the glass and frame, somersaulting twice and rotating around myself, like an amateur diver whose life was on the line. Except I was no diver and my life *was* on the line. I then extended both arms upward, and my power of flight kicked in as I soared upwards into the sky. \n\nI was being hunted by the mafia. The hitmen were a desperate move from the mafia's head, as I had taken down all the mafia's officers and underbosses, with only the boss remaining. I knew where his hideout was, and that was where I was headed. But first, I had to heal my shoulder.\n\nI levitated high up into the atmosphere, away from people's eyes and ears.\n\n\"Ow. Ow ow. Ow ow ow. Ow ow ow ow. Ow ow ow ow ow. Ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow.\"\n\nMy shoulder expelled the bullet and the skin closed around itself. I rolled my eyes at myself, feeling silly at how my healing power activates, but also glad that no one was around to laugh at me.\n\nGliding through the air, I made my way to the castle in the countryside where the mafia leader was holed up. At a distance, I stood mid-flight, made an eyeglasses shape with my two indexes and thumbs, and put them up to my eyes with the rest of my fingers on my chin and cheeks. This triggered my x-ray vision, which I used to see exactly where the boss was hiding. \n\nCrouching in midair, I grabbed at an invisible rope and tugged it.\n\n\"Grrr zzzzz.\"\n\nI tugged it again. \"Grrr zzzzz.\"\n\nWith full intent and all the power I could muster, I tugged the rope again.\n\n\"Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.\" It worked. I could feel a strong power growing inside of me and spreading all throughout my body. I lunged forward, aiming at the castle where the boss would be, and plunged headfirst into the castle wall. The wall crumbled easily like a house of cards. I kept my momentum, driving forwards and knocking down walls in the process until I reached the room where the boss was. \n\n\"I am Iron Man!\" I proclaimed as I forcefully landed on the floor, hearing a faint, single, distorted strumming of an electric guitar, and wondering if the henchmen had heard it.\n\n\"Shoot him!\" the boss shouted. \n\nAll the guns in the room went off in a deafening cacophony. The bullets, however, ricocheted off me and into the henchmen, taking half of them out easily. The boss was hit in the leg and was effectively incapacitated. They refrained from shooting once they realized what was happening. Summoning my inner Muhammad Ali, I raised my fists up to stomach level and started shuffling my feet. \n\n\"Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee,\" I said as I danced around the room, knocking the rest of the henchmen out.\n\n\"Damn you,\" the boss said, his voice shaking and quivering.\n\n\"You're done for, buddy,\" I said proudly. \"We're going downtown.\"",
"I switched off the police scanner and swung my feet out of the car and onto the wet pavement. The ground was slippery after the rain earlier in the day. I pushed the drivers' side door closed and heard sirens in the distance. I pulled the collar to my jacket up and started walking toward the sidewalk. It was a rough part of town and there wasn't much on the block; a run-down grocery on the corner, barber shop with a grimy window down a few spaces, and a bank sitting between an apartment building and an abandoned lot.\n\nLuckily for them, even in this part of town, the bank could afford to keep a silent alarm that actually worked. I made my way across the street and approached the front of the building. I put my hands up to my head and in front of my eyes, two tubes of flesh made by touching my thumbs to my forefingers and pressing both together. The magnified image of the people in the building came into focus. Two men, middle aged, were standing at the desk talking to the only teller that I could see in the bank. No car parked outside, not even wearing masks or any of the other standard rookie moves. Apparently they didn't think it'd be a problem getting what they came for and getting away quickly.\n\nI put my hands back in my jacket pockets and started walking toward the building. Neither of the men made any indication that they saw me coming. When I made it about 10 feet from the door, I pushed myself onto my toes and slowly tiptoed as I closed the distance between me and the front door. I opened it and saw the brass bell hanging from a hook just on the inside, white paint peeling to show old wood underneath. It hit the wood but made no sound. I smiled to myself and continued inside. I made my way to just behind the two of them and planted my feet firmly on the ground. Now came the fun part. I cleared my throat and summoned my Hero voice.\n\n\"Stop - in the name of justice!\"\n\nThe two men, in the middle of a terse but calm discussion with the teller, both jumped about six inches into the air and spun to meet me. The echoes from the noise still seemed to reverberate through the rafters of the old building. Neither of them looked like they expected anyone else to show up. It took a moment before one of them summoned the courage to speak up.\n\n\"What's all this about? Who are you? Are you a cop?\" He wore a very baggy hoodie, sunglasses on his head, jeans with sneakers. The right hand side of his hoodie had a slight bulge to it. I ignored his questions. He seemed to expect an answer, nervously shifting his gaze from me to his comrade in arms. The other man - with much the same air of amateurism about him - shrugged in response.\n\n\"It looks like you two are out of time for this heist!\" Just as the words came out of my mouth a half-sphere of what looked like a bubble found itself around the three of us. The teller stood just outside the radius of the bubble, frozen in time, motionless. Surprisingly, neither seemed to much care that things seemed to have stood still outside of our personal interaction. No sense in putting anyone in danger.\n\n\"Hey man, we don't want any trouble. Just get the hell out of here and nobody has to do anything stupid.\" The same man looked at me, a bit of bravery finding its way into his eyes. I could see his hand flexing in his hoodie pocket. Beads of sweat started to work their way down from his forehead and onto his cheeks.\n\n\"I don't think you want to do any of that, big guy. Why don't you save us all some time and hassle and just come with me quietly. I'm not a cop but I know a few that would like to have a word. Last time I checked, armed robbery was a big no-no. That goes for you too, ace.\" I eyed the man slowly backing his way toward the edge of the bubble.\n\nI saw him decide to pull his gun out before he even knew it for himself. I Puffed my chest out. Three bullets rang out of the barrel of his snub-nosed revolver. One hit the floor and sent up a chunk of old hardwood, splinters flying across the room at every possible angle. The next went left and hit the edge of the bubble; the moment it passed outside the border, it froze in midair. The third, however, caught me square in the chest. It made a dull thud as it hit me, and then rang lightly as it fell to the floor.\n\nI began Revving my legs, kicking up one after the other, running in place for only a moment before I let loose. Moving much faster than they could ever hope to keep up with, I zipped around them and began tying them up like a Snowspeeder using a tow cable on an AT-AT. They both fell to the floor, having lost their balance with their arms tied to their sides, their legs tied together making it impossible for them to run away.\n\nI walked toward the door and made a sound like a bubble popping - pursing my lips and sending air out of my mouth at just the right moment. The barely-visible bubble disappeared; the teller continuing a conversation only for a moment before realizing things were not the same as they were when she last realized. She jumped as she saw the men lying on the floor.\n\n\"The cops will be here in just a minute. You did well, triggering the alarm and all.\" I opened the door, bell ringing behind me, and walked out to the sidewalk. I decided that I would come back for my car in just a minute; after the cops had left. It was parked far enough away where nobody would notice it, and it wouldn't be there long enough to get stolen. I put both of my hands up over my head and balled my fists. I reached straight up toward the sky, arms raised in a victorious pose. \"For now,\" I said out loud to myself, \"I've gotta fly.\""
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[WP] You have had bad vision your entire life, and have always worn glasses or contacts to remedy it. One day, you lose your glasses, and realize that certain people around you still appear perfectly clear to you.
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"\\#true story\n\nSo yeah, this is not really a writing prompt, or is it?\n\nAnyways, when I was young my vision was pretty bad---I always wore thick glasses to school and I was the nerd of the class. Beneath my glasses, I was weak, timid and defensive. I'm the weakest link in the school, the goto person when you're looking for someone to bully.\n\nIt was until year 8 when I was slapped by a bully in school. My glasses fell off. Everyone expected me to panic and duck to look for my glasses.\n\nBut I didn't. I noticed I could still see clearly. The sonovabitch's face still clear in front of me. I slapped him back.\n\nHe punched me.\n\nCan you believe it? HE PUNCHED ME!\n\nA gentleman, punched my nose bloody when all I did was fight back.\n\nYou wouldn't believe how much shock I was in. I was crying, legitimately crying. From rage.\n\nIt was that day I began the transformation to being the queen bitch of the universe.",
"Shit.\n\nI've worn glasses for my entire life, and by Lilly's suggestion last week I started wearing contacts. Bad idea.\n\nSomehow I managed to drop it in a busy bus first thing in the morning.\n\nA crisp crunching sounds reverberated, as if mocking me. Oh well, I'll just have Lily get my old glasses from my house for me.\n\nAnd then I saw her.\n\nYou see, I have been myopic for longer than I could remember, I can barely see a scribble on the blackboard, but now I saw a girl from ten meters away clearly. I must be insane.\n\n\"Do you encounter a trouble?\" She asked me, already standing beside me from who knows when.\n\nThis is ridiculous. The worst part is, I still can't see anything else clearly, emphasising her presence.\n\n\"I'm Reymond Reinn-Lasch, may I know your name?\" I decided pondering over this would get me nowhere, so I asked her.\n\n\"Excuse me?\"\n\n\"I believe that I was asking for your name?\"\n\n\"Yes, but to ask me in such rude manner...\"\n\nThis is going to be bothersome.\n\n\"Pardon my previous rudeness, may I inquire about your name?\"\n\n\"I'm Thalia Ellenfelt, why?\" She clearly annoyed.\n\n\"Who are you. No, what are you?\"\n\n\"Listen, I was just approaching you because you have been looking at me intently, so if you just going to ridicule me...\"\n\n\"Do you know what myopia is?\"\n\n\"Oh, now you're testing me? Of course I know about myopia, I'm a medical student!\"\n\n\"Then you should know that my sight was universally blurred.\"\n\nShe sighed loudly. \"And here I am thinking you had a problem with me, when you just lost your glasses.\" She began to leave.\n\n\"The problem is, I could see you clearly, even when everything else is blurred.\"\n\n\"Wha--\" she halted her step.\n\n\"If you're doing this to flirt with me, I'll rip those eyes off your face.\" Her tone chilled dramatically, making me shudder.\n\n\"Even I won't be stupid enough to ask what are you when I was trying to flirt...\" I murmured.\n\n\"I'll kill you.\"\n\n\"Wha--- I'm sorry, that was off-hand remarks, I know it was extremely rude but--\"\n\n\"You have that kind of *eyes*. Your mere existence endangered us vampires.\" She interrupted me. A barrier errected around both of us, soundproofing the immediate vicinity.\n\n\"What is this all about?! This is escalating too quickly!\"\n\n\"Activating Laevatein safety spell imitation. Subject combustion in one minutes. If you have anything to say, you might want to say it now.\"\n\n\"Fire, let thy be cold and be salvation for Abraham.\" A feminine voice reverberated behind my mind. Fire engulfed my entire body, and yet I felt nothing.\n\n\"Islamic pattern found in enemy spell. Suspending extermination. I'll kill you later, seer.\" The fire extinguished as the bus stopped, right in front of campus where Lily was waiting. Thalia was nowhere to be found.\n\n\"Did something happened?\" Lily cheerfully asked.\n\n\"No, nothing important.\" I walked dumbfounded beside her, forgetting about telling her to get my glasses. Thankfully, I have one on my locker as emergency.\n\nBut I have no doubt I will meet Thalia again someday.",
"I can never find my glasses if I'm not wearing them, or they aren't somewhere I've put them myself, like my bedside table, two inches to the left of my alarm clock with obsessive compulsive levels of accuracy. So when they fell off on the bus, I thought I was screwed.\n\nA young gentleman came to the rescue when he saw me scrabbling for the lenses, which were not even a foot from me.\n\n\"Excuse me, miss? It appears you dropped your glasses.\" He held them out to me, and I looked up. Strangely, compared to the rest of my surroundings, he seemed to give off an aura of sorts.\n\nI could see him with stunning sharpness, standing there holding my glasses, some kind of instrument case slung over his back.\n\n\"Th-thank you.\" I stammered, taking my glasses back. I put them on, and the world returned to clarity.\n\n\"Not at all.\" The bus stopped, and he disembarked, and I forgot all about the encounter for a while. It wasn't until later, watching the news, that I even recalled it. A picture of the young man that helped me was displayed on the screen, above the caption:\n\n*57 dead in school shooting. Suspect in custody.*"
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[WP] Everyone is told they are going to die 15 minutes before they die and nothing can be done to avoid it.
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"Humans usually have a lot of trouble accepting their lives are not eternal. They keep going by their routine, day after day, without enjoying being alive, they waste their youth, their lifespan. But everything changes when something reminds you of it. When they know their live will end soon, that they are running on a timer, they try to regain all of those lost years. That was exactly what happened with me.\n\nAbout 3 years ago, a word started haunting me. Cancer. I had no more chances, doctors said. It was just a matter of time until I died. I quit my job as an accountant in a mediocre company. I had saved quite a bit of money on the last few years, and the time came to enjoy it.\n\nI sold my house and travelled across the world. I've seen many places, met many people, and did everything I always wanted, but something felt empty. The thing is, you can't really enjoy things when you know the clock is ticking for you. Every passing second I was just getting closer to my doom. Everything I did was useless. Worthless. You can't escape destiny after all.\n\nAnd now, it finally happened. My phone vibrated, its screen lit up. My 15 minutes were here. All this time I knew this was going to happen, but now, it was unavoidable. No one could escape their 15 minutes... until now.\n\nI've been living these last years in a hurry, dancing on the hands of destiny. But not anymore. Now I'm taking back control. I looked at the gun over the nightstand, taking it in my hands. I slowly rise the barrel up to my temple, and then I take another glance at my phone. 10 minutes had passed since the message. My lips form a faint smile before I utter my last words.\n\n\"Fuck destiny.\"\n\nAnd I pull the trigger."
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[WP] Charlie has received one of 5 golden tickets to visit Willy Wonka's Chocolate Factory! Little does Charlie know, but the chocolate factory is merely a front for Willie Wonka's massive Cocaine Empire, and Wonka needs a successor
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"“I like you Charlie, there is no lying in you.” Mr. Wonka and Charlie walked along the edge of the chocolate river. “Unfortunately I do not feel the same about the rest of our ticket winners.” Charlie looked confused, “what do you mean by that Mr. Wonka?” “I'm talking about Augustus Gloop. This garbage was recognized by my oompa loompa's at lunch.” Mr. Wonka picked up a pair of binoculars and peered through them. “From several years ago, in New York.” Mr. Wonka passed Charlie the binoculars. “He was an informer for Slugworth.” Charlie looked on as Augustus could be seen bruised and beaten inside one of the pipes coming from the chocolate river, the oompa loompa's pointing to Mr. Wonka as he struggled and suddenly rocketed upwards into the complex tubing. “He put Ferrero Rocher, Hershey's and Godiva out of business for life.” Mr. Wonka stared with intent at Charlie. “So how do I know you aren't with Slugworth too, Charlie?” He tossed the binoculars back. “Hey, Wonka.” Charlie said with dead eyes, “Let's get this straight, now. I never fucked anybody over in my life that didn't have it coming to them, you got that? All I have in this world is my balls and my word, and I don't break em for no one, you understand? That piece of shit up there, I never liked him, I never trusted him. For all I know he had me set up, and had my Grandma Josephine killed, but that's history. I'm here, she's not, you wanna go on with me? You say it, you don't? Then you make a move.” Charlie placed his hands on his hips and waited for Mr. Wonka's response. “I think you speak from the heart, Bucket. But I say to myself, this Grandpa Joe, your boss, we have spies like Augustus working for him, his judgement stinks.” Mr. Wonka poured some tea into a teacup shaped like a flower. “So I think to myself, how many other mistakes has this Joe guy made? How can I trust his organization? You tell me Charlie.” Biting into the teacup, Charlie stood there thinking intently. “Joe is smart, you know? You can't blame him for that animal.” Charlie pointing to the tubes where Augustus drew his last breath. “And it's a crazy business we're in, you know? And that could happen to anyone, even you. Why don't I go back and talk to Grandpa, work it out, I'll fix things between us, you got my word on that.” Mr. Wonka placed the half eaten teacup onto the table. “I think you and me, we can work this thing out. We can do business together for a long time. Just remember, I'll only tell you one time, don't fuck me Charlie, don't you ever try to fuck me.” Charlie sat in silence, and slowly nodded his head in agreement. \n\nMore a tribute to Scarface than an original write up, but couldn't pass up the opportunity. ",
"As soon as the boy entered the massive complex, he had no shortage of surprises. The rest of the ticket-holders were mostly adults, Wonka's factory was only churning out some sort of vanilla substance instead of the brown goop he had expected, and red lasers pierced the air from locations he couldn't quite point out. \n\nAugustus Snoop, the fattest cat on the block, held his hand out while in line. \"Fuck, what's good, Wonka? You know I'm down for whatever, anytime.\" He grins from ear to ear, his insanely shiny, and gold, teeth sparkling.\n\nMr. Wonka dipped his head, hands clasped behind his back. He made no attempt to meet the handshake. His face shaped into a very slight smile while Snoop's transformed into a frown, turning to scan each of the participants head-to-toe. Charlie's diminutive stature didn't really seem to be out of place to the man, for some reason. Soon, he strolled off to the end of the line, where a very uncleanly and 'energetic' woman stood. \n\"Ah. You must be who they call 'Snort-it Beauregarde'. Incredibly disappointing.\"\n\nHer delayed response came soon after, smirking and sporting maybe half a set of teeth, at most. \"Dat's me! I'm the bes- wait, what?\" At that, Wonka only shook his head, rolled his eyes, and, with an exhausted sigh, raised a hand into the air before snapping his fingers. Immediately, a trapdoor collapsed right under her feet, sending the screaming mess to some deep, dark mystery. The screams halted abruptly after a few long seconds. \n\nMr. Wonka clasped his hands together once more, taking a small bow. \"How unfortunate.\" He began pacing from one end of the group to the other. Four remained, and only one young man was relatively close to Charlie's age. Perhaps the girl, too, but her layers of clothing made things a bit more difficult. Wonka came to a stop in front of Charlie himself, turning on his heel. He shot his arms out to their sides, focusing on no one in particular. \"Welcome, welcome, welcome, friends and strangers alike!\"\n\n",
"Sorry for any grammatical errors. This is not English class, I am not your English student, and you are not my English teacher. With that being said, feel free to correct me just be nice about it.\n\n\"Snfffffffffffffffff\"\n*tap* *tap* *tap* *tap*\n\"Snfffffffffffffffffffffff\"\n\"Ahhhhhhh\"\nThe wide eyed Wonka exclaimed after snorting a line of his Willy White. This did not really surprise me though. People say that they would never do cocaine because all of the negative stigma's that come with it. But we all know that the reason we don't all do cocaine is because we simply can't afford it. That's where Willy come's in. \n\nAt first site when walking up to his factory, it looks as it is labeled, a candy factory. However, for a factory that was made in the 20's, every cosmetic detail was updated to look as if the building was built yesterday. Willy had money. Which wasn't very surprising given the success of his brand. But how did Willy make his brand successful? How did he go from making candy bars in a tiny candy shop in NY to being able to find his name in any store across the nation.\n\n\"Snffffffffffffff\"\n\n\"Coke\" Wonka mumbled\n\"Guys love it, girls love it, your favorite soda is named after it, and ya' can just never get enough of it\"\n\"Ya' wanna know somethin Charlie!?\" Wonka muttered while looking in his coat pocket for a match to light is cigar\n\"W-w-what's is it Mr. Wonka\" Charlie stuttered timidly\n\"Ya know why they took coke out of Coca-Cola cola don't ya?\"\n\"W-w-why is that Mr. Wonka\"\n\"Because they didn't need it anymore\" Bellowed Wonka\n\"Why\" Charlie quietly asked\n\"Because you idiot! Ya don't need coke for something to be Coke\" \nWilly proceeds to light his cigar. The room become warily silent for a good 10 seconds. Wonka stares at Charlie the entire time but isn't really looking at Charlie. It's almost as if he is looking through him. You know that million mile stare that some veterans have after war. That. It almost looks as if he is looking in a mirror in his own head.\n\"Here at our \"chocolate\" factory we give the people what they want\"\n\"What do people want sir?\"\nWilly's eye lighten up as he squeals \"They want to be happy!\"\n\"And do you know how I'll make em' happy!?\" Wonka shouted \n\"No sir I don't\" \n\"Imma give em Coke!\" Screamed Wonka\n\"Isn't that illegal though sir?\" Charlie muttered\n*Wonka take a deep breath then laughs under his breath*\n\"Silly boy! you have so much to learn!\"\n\"I don't know if I want to learn\" Charlie murmured\n\"Do you know what happiness is Charlie\"\n\"Yes!\" Charlie declared\n\"Then what is it?\" The factory owner hissed\n\"It's when you put a lot of hard work into something and then you get the gratification from yourself for accomplishing something, weather it be from working out, getting a job with the goal of progressing yourself, or putting effort into mutual relationships. That's what I believe makes people happy Mr. Wonka.\" \nWilly smirks then proposes \"What if you could skip all of that bullshit?\" \nCharlie scoffed proclaiming \"What bullshit!?\" \n\"Ya know, all that effort you people like to put into your \"relationships\" and \"well-being\" that you care so much about. What if all you needed to be happy was money\"\n\"Money can't buy you happiness!\" Charlie interjected\n\"I beg to differ\" hissed Willy as he takes another puff on his cigar. \"What if I told you happiness is just a chemical in your head\" Wonka scoffed.\n\n\"Snnnnnnnfffffffffff\" \n\"And I just snorted a line of it\"\n\n\"What does any of this have to do with candy\" asked Charlie.\n\"EVERYTHING!\" Willy barked. \"Just Because you can't put cocaine in your candy does not mean you can't put some Coke in it\" Wonka exclaimed brashly.\n\"That makes no sense!\" proclaimed Charlie.\n\"Yes it does, you just don't understand what I mean by Coke yet. Coke is everything from the brand of the product to the chemicals that make up the product. This is why not just any no body can throw their hand in and start concocting a drink or food that will compete with the likes of Coke, Dr. Pepper, Frito Lay, or even my little chocolate factory. This shit is down to a fucking science! They got people that know exactly what chemicals will make your neurons fire in your little head telling you \"this stuff is the shit!\". It's fucking coke but just with a different chemical composition. It's genius!\" Proclaimed Wonka. \"Now why does Coke taste better then Dr. Pepper?\" \n\"Because it's America's real choice when it comes to soda?\" Charlie blurted\n\"No you idiot! Those words mean without the money that they put behind them! Coke doesn't taste better than Dr. Pepper and Dr. Pepper doesn't taste better than Coke. While some people might prefer one drink over the other the overall consumption of the drink relies on the amount of branding each company uses. They have a drug, they just have to make sure customers are able to find their product.\"\n\"That still doesn't explain why Coke does better than Dr. Pepper\"\n\"It is named after everyone's favorite drug isn't it?\"\nWonka replied\n\"So!?\" Charlie snarled \n\"Don't you find it a little strange that the most common drink found in the world shares the same name as one of the most wonderful drugs found under the sun!\"\n\"I don't know if I'd say wonderful, but I will agree, that is a bit weird\"\n\"Have you ever stopped to think about why that is?\"\n\"I haven't really given it much though.\"\n\"Snnnnnnnnnffffffffff\"\n\"It all started in the 20's. Back when I made all of my product in a shitty candy store in uptown Boston. Cocaine was still being tested by the government for its medicinal properties and there weren't any real restriction on whether or not we could put it in food yet, so we did. It took us years to find that happy medium where a consumer could consume our products without worrying of an over dose while still getting them that fix that keeps them coming back. That's when we hit big. All of the major food suppliers businesses exploded giving us riches we could not have foreseen. In that moment, we had defeated our biggest competition, home cooked meals. We had a product and a brand that no mother cooking at come could compete with. Then the FDA came in and made us stop the production of cocaine in our food products. Our business took a hit but because of the brand we had instilled. We had time to research and figure out how we could put the \"coke back in Coke\". That's when every major food company in the United States started using artificial flavoring that is essentially the \"Coke\" we find in our food we eat today\"\n\n\"Snnnnnnnnnnnnnnnfffffffff\"\n\n\"Now I got a question for you Charlie\"\n\n\"Snnnnnnnnnnnnnnffffffffffffffff\"\n\n\"Ahhhhhh\"\n\n\"Are you ready to take over\" Willy mumbles as he collapses over from a cocaine induced over dose.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n",
"\"So what do you think, kid?\"\n\nThe only reaction Willy Wonka could bring about from the little Charlie was a blank stare. He had a feeling it would end this way. Sighing deeply, Mr. Wonka rubbed his temples and considered what he would do next. His life secret was now in the dirty hands of a 12-year old kid, and he didn't even think this was a good idea in the first place! His wife had talked him into it, the bitch. \n\n\"Mr. Wonka?\" A tiny voice broke the silence and received Willy's full attention. \n\n\"Yes? Yes, child! What is it?!\" He desperately cried back. \n\n\"I think I would like to do this -- become your successor, I mean,\" Charlie calmly said to the wide, gleaming eyes of the man that stood above him. Willy let out a sigh of relief and smiled, thankfully looking up at the sky. The connection felt between these two newly introduced friends could only be described in the implication of that of a relationship between two aspiring students -- Everything was wonderful in that one moment. The weight lifted off of Willy's chest was remarkable. Now all he had to do was teach the kid how to cook, and he'd be free. He was about to lead his now apprentice to the main part of the factory, but it was at that moment that they heard the knocks. Five loud thuds, turning the air around them colder with each forceful impact. Willy Wonka was frozen in place. Charlie was looking at the entrance of the factory curiously. He thought better of himself than to announce that nobody should be knocking on the doors of a factory any later than 9:00, as the thought was already looming above them. \n\n\"This is the DEA! Open up immediately, or we'll have to do it for you!\" \n\nMr. Wonka inhaled sharply, peering over at Charlie. \"Okay, now, kid,\" he whispered cautiously, \"Listen carefully. I-\"\n\nThe large wooden doors burst open, suddenly creating an atmosphere devoid of life. Five armored DEA agents were behind it, now quickly shuffling in, pointing guns at the two criminals standing there like deer in the headlights. \n\n\"Don't move!\"\n\nMr. Wonka slowly regained composure, straightened his rainbow bow-tie, and cleared his throat. \"Is there a problem, gentlemen?\" he said with brisk confidence. \n\nOh boy, was this going to be a hard one to talk his way out of.",
"\"Heeeeey, kid. Welcome to the Factory.\"\n\nCharlie looked around in awe. Inside of a marvelous arch was the entrance to Willy Wonka's Chocolate Factory. A short man with pretty blue hair and red eyes was squatting in the middle of it. \n\n\"Heeeeey, you wanna go in?\" the man gurgled.\n\n\"We sure do!\" exclaimed Charlie's grandfather. \n\nThe happy dwarf gesticulated excitedly towards several magnificent doors. \"I recommend the *urp* White Chocolate room.\"\n\nThe White Chocolate room was everything Charlie had imagined and more. The sensual chocolate smells that had tantalized him in the past were gone, and the room smelled a little sweaty, but neither he nor his grandfather seemed to notice. \n\nBesides, the room was decorated like an arctic wonderland, down to the swirling snow and igloos! \n\nCharlie's grandfather wandered over to a bench covered in chemical tubes. \n\n\"Wow Charlie, look at all of this!\" He laughed. \"They even have a stove so that they can make small batches to try right here!\" \n\nCharlie smiled. \"I know Grandpa. Didn't I tell you that I heard singing and strange noises at night? This must be a magical place.\" \n\nSuddenly, the nearest igloo whooshed open and a man dressed in purple appeared! \n\n\"Hello, my name is Willy Wonka, and this is my little operation. How do you like it?\"\n\n\"So humble,\" Charlie's grandfather whispered. \"Everyone knows that half the world is in love with Wonka's chocolates.\"\n\nWilly Wonka frowned. \"I believe our other guests are detained at the moment. I'm afraid I can't give the full tour.\" \n\nCharlie's heart sank. He had waited so long! \n\nWilly Wonka smiled knowingly. \"I can't give you the tour, but I can give you a little gift. Please follow me, Charlie.\"\n\nCharlie's grandfather waved as Charlie and Willy Wonka moved into the next room. \n\n\"So, Mr. Wonka, what are you gonna give me?\" \n\nWilly Wonka grinned. \n\n\"Tell me Charlie, do you know how to cook?\"\n"
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[WP] You suddeny discover that every time you blink the world around you changes slightly
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"The air whistled in my ears as Shannon and I were driving down I90 in our motorcycle. This had been the first thing we could do together since graduating together. I pulled to the right when a truck blew a horn as it smashed us from behind.\n\nI opened my eyes again. I watched my blood creep forward from my head onto the pavement. Shannon wasn't moving and cars were honking right behind me. This was it.\n\nThis time, I had reached the hospital. Maybe I could make it out now. I had wires hooked up to my head and my arms and my chest. Three thirty.\n\nThere was less commotion around me when I opened my eyes again. A doctor had entered my room and started talking for a minute. I nodded like I was drunk and she left. Four sharp.\n\nLight seeped into my eyeballs yet again. The first thing I saw was a gray shirt, then a gold star, then a cowboy-ish hat. I thought cops wore blue. Anyway, apparently I was drunk. My BAC was just a bit above the limit and I might be shit out of luck. I don't think I can bother with the time anymore.\n\nOh, look. It's Shannon. We hugged and kissed as she told me about how she was miraculously almost unharmed, but we'd still have to stay here for a few days. I was wondering whether or not to tell her about the cop's visit. She cried out my name as my vision faded to black.\n\nNow, doctors are surrounding me everywhere. I need... I need...\n\n",
"It started in the summer of 1996, while I was backpacking through the Olympics with my father. We were standing on the rocky outcropping of Hurricane Ridge, Puget Sound glimmering in the midday sun, boats speckling the water around the harbor of Port Townsend. The air smelled like dust and pine, with the lingering musk of mountain goat. \n\n“We couldn’t have asked for better weather,” my dad said, tipping up the visor on his baseball cap to look out across the water. Somewhere, a cicada let out a long, rasping call. “It’s beautiful.”\n\nI was about to agree. My mouth was open, the words light upon my tongue, and then I blinked.\n\nWater filled my mouth. The rain was coming down hard, and my father was holding the hood of us rain jacket up against the storm. The view had been replaced by the murk of clouds, and the air smelled of wet dirt.\n\n“Damn,” he muttered. “Sorry, kiddo. Looks like we might cut this one short.”\n\nThe next few days had been a confusing whirlwind. It took some time to realize that the changes were happening whenever I blinked. People vanished, friends disappearing into thin air like they had never existed. Weather changed. My pet went from being a lively black lab to a standoffish Calico named Butch. \n\nIt was hell. My parents grew concerned about me, thinking my ravings to be due to my sleep deprivation, worried about my sudden need to stop myself from blinking. More than once they found me lying in bed, eyes wide open and staring at the ceiling, holding my eyes open with my hands and sobbing.\n\nI saw a therapist, or perhaps it would be more accurate to say I saw three, within the space of a single session. Two thought I probably suffered from schizophrenia; the third thought I had misaligned chakras. She prescribed me a small packet of St. John’s Wort to “fix my tattered soul.” Later, when I checked my pocket for the stuff, I found only a small amber tube of medication, with *Ablify* written on the side. There wasn’t a listed amount of remaining refills.\n\nAfter the therapists, we tried doctors. I saw optometrists who were convinced that there was something wrong with my eyes. One, a tall Indian woman with a cute smile and a white lab coat reaching down to her knees, tried to explain the issue to my parents.\n\n“Sometimes, when a person has problems with their vision, it can bring on headaches, lack of sleep, even hallucinations,” she said. “I’ve seen what others might have prescribed as full on psychosis fixed by a proper pair of glasses. Let’s run some tests. I’m sure we’ll find a solution in no time.”\n\nShe took a machine, swinging it into place so that two little spikes hooked into my ears and held my head firmly in place. \n\n“We’re going to take a few measurements, okay?”\n\nI looked through the lenses, and saw one of those charts with the progressively smaller numbers and letters on the far side of the room. It was blurred by whatever glass was in front of me, but I could still more or less make it out.\n\n“Can I get you to close your left eye and read the first line?”\n\n“C,” I responded.\n\n“And the second?”\n\n“D, G, A, W—”\n\nI couldn’t help it. My eyes were watering. I blinked.\n\n“Well there’s your damn problem,” said a gruff, male voice. “The boy can barely see.”\n\nI tugged away from the apparatus and saw a squat man with a mange of white bristles rubbing at his chin. His white lab coat barely stretched over his prominent gut, and was covered in burns and stains.\n\n“I’d like to go home now,” I said, quietly.\n\nMy mother’s hand was warm on my shoulder. “Just after this test, sweetie.”\n\nWhen I got home that night, I lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling. I blinked, and the walls changed color. I blinked, and the tree outside my window died. I blinked, and blinked, and prayed that maybe one of these times, just maybe, I would blink and I would be cured. \n\nBut life was never going to be that simple for me. I blinked, and something appeared in the corner of the my room. A new piece of furniture. For a moment, my curiosity got the better of me, and I stood up, rolling out of bed, rubbing at my eyes without closing them. I drew in a sharp suck of breath as I saw what it was. It was a crib. It was painted sky blue, with little pink stars. With faltering steps, I walked up to it and peeked inside.\n\nThe baby looked so soft. I think it was a girl, her little fingers were curled around her blanket, her lips parting as huffs of air burst from between them. She had my mother’s jawline, even as a child. My father’s high brow.\n\nMy sister.\n\nI reached out, wondering. My fingers were just shy of her cheek when, without thinking, I blinked.\n\nI was standing in the empty corner of my room, and I was utterly alone.\n",
"Simon was the curator of an art exhibition, featuring several wonderfully crafted statues. Every day, every night, he looked after the statues, making sure they're ready for the visitors each day. But one night, Simon had stayed behind late. As he checked around, he noticed one of the statues had changed pose, an arm slightly moved.\n\n\"That's odd,\" he thought. \"I didn't think statues could move like that.\" Simon tried adjusting the arm back to its original position, but it was no use. It was as stiff as it always had been. But still, he walked away and took one last look. He then blinked. When he saw again, the statue's head had turned towards him. He jumped back slightly.\n\n\"Ah!\" he exclaimed. \"Did you just? Did you...\" He couldn't believe what he was witnessing. Simon blinked again, and this time, all the statues in the room had changed pose slightly.\n\n\"This is... impossible! You can't be all alive!\" He gasped out loud.\n\nSimon blinked, and the statues had changed pose once again. This time, they had began stepping away from their exhibition platforms, with one of their faces changing into a snarl. He then decided to head towards the reception area, but the way was blocked off by more statues that had moved from their original spots. He blinked again, and the statues had advanced forward slightly, their faces bearing a hostile expression. He blinked once again, and the statues had began reaching out. Simon eventually figured out that this was only changing when he was blinking, so he tried very hard not to blink. He headed for the nearest fire exit he could find.\n\nBut Simon couldn't open the fire exit. He tried and tried pushing the bar across it to get it to open, but the door was stuck.\n\n\"Help! Let me out!\" He screamed as he began banging on the door. Unbeknownst to him, he had started blinking again in his cries for help, and when he looked back, he saw a statue in the midst of a lunge, its face now resembling something out of a horror film, with its arms reaching out to grab him.\n\nSimon stared at the monster, trying desperately hard not to blink, but it was literally no contest. He blinked, one last time.",
"It was a sunny autumn day in Northern Michigan. \nStanley had just returned to his cabin after a long day of fishing on a remote lake. The air smells of sweet pine and the sound of an owl calling in the distance is heard. He takes a seat on his back deck and looks out upon that same lake as the sun was setting. \n\"How serene, nothing like the peace and quiet\" he thinks as he lights a cigarette. Stanley appreciates the beauty that lies within being alone with nature. He takes a long drag and closes his eyes in what seems to be a mixture of exhaustion and relaxation. Upon opening his eyes, he notices that a large pine tree across the lake, about a two miles across, has fallen. \n\"Odd, I didn't even hear it fall\" he ponders. \"Perhaps the old saying if no one is around the tree when it falls, it doesn't make a sound is true afterall.\" He says aloud, and laughs to himself. His eyes fix upon a loon floating across the water in leisure. He blinks and when his eyes open it has disappeared. He figures it has gone underwater to fish, similarly to how he had done moments ago in his kayak. The next time he blinks, a few seconds later, his eyes move back to the forest, which has had four more trees fallen since. In astonishment, he blinks again, checking his vision. This time, a dozen more are lying on the ground. \nStanley cannot believe it. As the minutes pass he continues to blink and with every blink comes down a hundred or so more trees. Within two minutes the whole forest has fallen. He stands up, flicks his cigarette butt and rubs his eyes and finally realizes that every time he blinks, more trees fall. Stanley locks onto a small group of fallen trees across the water and focuses hard, trying not to blink. Before he knows it, a gentle gust of wind strikes his face and he can't resist. He blinks, and what happens next surprises him grately. In the same spot where the first tree had fallen, a large house had appeared. Two blinks later, and the whole other side of the lake had houses lining it. One more blink, and the whole lake is covered in homes, waterfront shopping centers, and even a small coal mining factory. One more blink, and he sees the once clear, calm water, is full of dead fish and tinted slightly green. There are large boats floating along the lake and twice as many planes floating across the sky. Stanley, at this point, thinks he is dreaming and tries to wake himself up. He closes his eyes for ten seconds, and upon opening them he immediately realizes he isn't dreaming; he is living a nightmare. Every house and building that stood before him had crumbled into piles of debris. The lake had dried up. And the sky was thick with smog. After one final blink, Stanley looks out at the scene in front of him.\n \nAn endless desert. \n\nAnd a very different type of \"peace and quiet\". \n"
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[WP] In a landmark case, a shadow sues for their right to be emancipated.
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"\"Incredible!\" The judge shouted, eyes wide and staring at the plaintiff, or more specifically their shadow. \"Simply amazing! And you're telling me it can-\"\n\n\"He, your honor.\" The plaintiff's attorney cut off the judge, correcting his use of pronouns. \"We would like to remind you, as well as the jury, that my plaintiff William Dinkleburge's shadow identifies as male. As a sign of respect, he asks that we use masculine pronouns to identify him.\" \n\nThe judge's eyes return to their normal, placid position, and the jury begins silently debating the use of pronouns for what is essentially a non-living, non-sentient space where light is absent. William knows they are right in thinking that way, though. He has instigated this entire trial as a jolly protest against emancipation privileges of children in his state. William never thought he'd really get to see the courtroom, however, but this didn't deter him from putting together the best case to get people thinking about emancipation rights. \n\n\"Very well,\" the judge started, \"I apologize for my insincerity, William Dinkelburge's shadow. Please, continue with your testimony.\" The judge motioned his hands for the shadow to continue it's thoughts that the judge had so rudely interrupted. To this, William began performing shadow puppetry in front of a light he had set up next to the podium. His shadows bounced across a projector, placed slightly to his right.\n\n\"I see, and what does this all mean Mr. Dinkelburge?\" the judge asked.\n\n\"He says 'for too long have I been discriminated against in this world, forced to be stuck with this man for the rest of my days, unless the jury votes in my favor. I will be 28 years old come next Wednesday, and I will still have less rights than every 18-year-old, nay, every child in this country.'\" William paused for a moment, observing the contemplative jury and the now weeping judge. Then, he continued his shadow puppetry, and interpreted the motions as he went on.\n\n\"'Does that really seem fair, members of the jury? What do you think it would be like, to be dragged around town all day long while you can neither say or do anything to protest such actions, even at the age of 30? How about by the time you're 90? The rest of my life is quite literally in your hands, and I hope that you find it in your hearts to grant me a life that I have some semblance of control over.'\" \n\nWith that, William set his hands down and turned the light behind him off. He began packing up the projector as the state attorney began packing away the notes he had been studying for the last half-hour. The judge wiped away streams of tears through sorrowful snuffles and snorts, accidentally dropping his gavel in the process.\n\n\"Oh, oh my, I-I'm so sorry everyone,\" the judge stammered out, \"I don't know what's come over me. I just feel s-so emotional. In any case, the court will now hear the defendant's case.\" The state attorney walked up to the podium as William sat back down at his desk, next to his lawyer who gave him an enthusiastic thumbs up on the way over.\n\n\"Thank you your honor. To begin, I'd like to say that this entire case is absolutely ridiculous.\" The attorney was instantly hit with \"boo's\" from the jury, as well as the judge. \"Now, now, let me explain my reasoning at least. Firstly, a shadow is the defined in the English dictionary as being a 'dark area or shape produced by a body coming between rays of light and a surface'. Therefore, this shadow does not share the same sentience as a human being, and cannot share the same rights that human beings do in our country.\"\n\n*This is a pretty good argument already,* thought William. *I need to tear it apart fast.*\n\n\"Objection, your honor,\" said William. \n\n\"On what grounds?\" asked the judge.\n\n\"On the grounds that the attorney's argument is based on bigotry and holds no relevance to the the case at hand.\" William crossed his fingers. It would be a miracle if this objection were sustained, but William was all-in on this case by this point.\n\n\"Objection sustained,\" said the judge as the attorney threw his hands in the air, angrily, \"please continue your testimony without the use of any bigoted, inclusive, racially biased or discriminatory statements Mr. Briggs.\" \n\n\"I cannot believe this,\" muttered the angry attorney. The jury was silently celebrating the decision, as were William and his lawyer. The attorney then looked around the room, noticing the jubilation, and sighed heavily.\n\n\"Your honor,\" he started, \"as a representative of the state of Oklahoma, I would like to withdraw my defense.\" Suddenly, the jury burst out in applause and shouting and whistling the likes a courtroom had never seen! William jumped from his seat and started dancing around it crazily while his lawyer smiled the devilish smile of someone being handsomely paid. \n\n\"Very well, Mr. Briggs. Then I find the decision in favor of Mr. Dinkelburge and his shadow!\" the judge cried out through streaming tears and snot. William couldn't believe he had won the case, as he continued dancing round his chair with glee.\n\nThen, he remembered his whole reason for coming to court. He was hoping to present a strong argument, that is for sure, but he wasn't hoping he would win. Then, he reflected on his decision as his dancing went from an excited jig to a slow trot. \n\n\"Dear God,\" he murmered, \"what the hell did I just do?\"\n\n***\n\nMoral of the story: Precedent is a bitch and you should really think before trying to earn equal rights for a shadow."
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[WP]You've been captured,tortured, and brutalized.Left with no options and little sanity left you decide to do something crazy "HEY KOOLAID!"
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"The otherwise stonefaced thug spun around quickly, eyes wide with disbelief, not many knew of his street name, and even those who did were often too scared to say it aloud. So to hear a broken and beaten man say it so fearlessly and boldly was an unpleasant turn of events. He took quick strides across the room, lifted the mans head so that their eyes met and growled.\n\"What did you just call me?\" \nThe man blinked twice, smiled and softly replied,\n\"Kool...aid.\"\nThe thug was about to strike him with a swift backhand when suddenly the wall behind him exploded into pieces. As the dust settled a deep, and intimidating voice bellowed,\n\"OH YEAHHH!\"\nThe initial energy and enthusiasm of his voice was replaced by a sudden expression of panic, the thug had been crushed underneath the debris.\nThe man looked on in shock, unsure of what to say, The Koolaid Man glared at him, eyes narrowed, he moved methodically towards the man, trapped and helpless in his chair as he screamed desperately for mercy."
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I have spent he last few hours wanting to cry but unable too. (God know why) and thought that this would make a good prompt. Currently I feel happy but want to cry please try to replicate this kind of contrdiction
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[WP] Write something that initially inspires one emotion but on repeated reading the opposite emotion come forth
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"Father. \n\nIt's been a long time since I last wrote you a letter, hasn't it? \nWell, I've changed a lot, everything's changed a lot. Perhaps for the worse you would say at a glance without looking at the big picture like always. \nI mean... \nI don't know, it's been so long since I last wrote to you. \nIt's been so long since I wrote... Well, anything in general to be frank. \nHaha.\n\nLet's start over.\n\nHi Father. \nI've been doing great in life since we last talked. I'm... happy. I'm-I'm very happy. \nI'm happy because, Well, I'm out of school. I feel great, I'm surrounded by great people. I have a husband, I have two lovely kids. I think you would love them at a glance, I swear. \nAnd my in laws are... Well, ^^we ^^don't ^^talk ^^with ^^them ^^anymore. \nLike, I'm happy. I'm sincerely happy. No fake smiles like old times. \nHappy. A feeling I haven't felt in so many moons, it's been so long.\n\nIt's really just a big relief. Like a ton of pressure lifted of my shoulders. \nI no longer walk with my shoulders down.\n\nIt's so hard finding these fucking words. Like there is a thousand things I want to tell you, a thousand experiences I want to share. \n\nMy college years. \nMy wedding. \nThe first child. \nLee's first words. \n\nAnd I'm just... Unable to due to time constraints and my lack of ability to find the words for it. \nAnd I fucking hate that. \nI want to tell you, but I simply can't. \nThere is no possible way for me to explain this nor reach you. I wish I had both the time and the place to do so, but I'm just unable to. \nKids, husband, work... Kids. \nHow I envy how you even managed to stay sane.\n\nI suppose... \nI ended up writing this letter to say this; \nI've grown into the man you always wanted me to be. \nYou helped me through the toughest times of my life when I had no one else to turn to. \nAnd for that, no words can even express the gratitude I have for you. \n\nThank you father, for everything."
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[WP] You've discovered you have a gift to heal terminal diseases. However, you can only heal those who trust you enough to share their deepest, darkest secret. Your spouse has just been diagnosed with leukemia.
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"\"I want to save you Julianne!\"\n\"Mike, i know, but at what cost? I... I love you too much to hurt you this way!\"\n\"We have been married for 5 years for pete's sake! I can handle whatever you tell me!\"\n\"That's it mike! I know you will handle it, but what about our marriage?\"\n\"I think cheating on me probably is less freaking important then-\"\n\"MIKE!\" \nShe yells, placing her hand on mike's face.\nHer eyes blink away her tears as she looks him in the eyes.\n\"Mike I...\"\n\"For fucks sake tell me!\"\nShe grabs his face, kissing him.\n\"I'm gay.\"",
"\"You have to tell me!\" I shouted in frustration at the wall.\n\nIt was hopeless, he was about to die and he wouldn't let me save him. I could help him, for God's sake, stop him from dying.\n\nStop me from losing the one thing that kept my life together.\n\nTears streaming down my face, I turned to face him. All he had to do was tell me his deepest secret. I didn't care if he had cheated on me, or if he had murdered someone. All I wanted was to have him in my arms for the rest of my life.\n\n\"I can't.\" He said. \"I can't.\"\n\nGoing over to him, I looked him straight in the eyes. To his credit, he didn't look away. I wanted to look into those eyes for years, even if I had to share them with ten other women.\n\n\"Tell me.\" I said gently. \"I don't care what it is, anything is better than losing you.\"\n\nIn him, I could see his reluctance fading. I let him consider what to do quietly.\n\nAfter what seemed like an eternity, the tension left his body. Almost as if in defeat.\n\n\"Fine, I'll tell you.\" His voice was distant, lost. \"You remember that day y- you really wanted to eat the last doughnut?\"\n\nI looked at him, perplexed. That was the day he left the house for the whole afternoon. I never asked him where he went, I never found out. Where had he been, what ha-\n\n\"Well, I ate it.\" His voice had more power now, but a deep sadnessw threatened to overwhelm it. \"Then I went miles looking for fresh doughnuts, a treat for you. I'm sorry, oh so sorry. Please don't be mad, I didn't mean to...\"\n\nHe began babbling as I looked on. In me, I felt a welling sensation as my power, poured out and engulfed my husband. Laughing in joy, I hugged him harder than I had ever hugged anyone. He was mine.\n\nHe was cured.\n\nStopping his babbling, he asked, seemingly surprised. \"You're not mad?\"\n\nDisentangling myself, I looked deep into his confused eyes. \"Of course not you idiot. I don't care about doughnuts, I care about you. I care that you went miles looking for doughnuts just to make me happy.\"\n\n\"Blasphemy!\" He cried out, a smile lighting his face. \"How dare you not care about doughnuts!\"\n\nAgain, we embraced. \"Honey, I was waiting to tell you until after you were cured.\"\n\n\"What?\" He mumbled distractedly.\n\n\"I'm pregnant.\"\n\nHe stopped breathing. Slowly, I extricated myself from his arms, fearing the worst.\n\nA boyish grin was plastered across his face. \n\nIn that instant, the world seemed a much happier place.\n\n------------------------\n\nThanks for reading! I don't normally write stories like this so please criticise!\n\nDive into my world at r/PhoenixWriting"
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[WP] Describe the last day in the life of an inanimate, household object!
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"Content directly copied from /u/The-Mourning-Star, with an extra line added int the end:\n\n\"It's time to go\" He whispered to me, hugging me tight\n\n\"But I'll see you soon, I promise\" He whispered to me as he slowly lowered me into a bag, soon thereafter it begun to fill with other objects, knick-knacks and memories. They couldn't keep me when they had to move, I knew this. Everything must part.\n\nBut I was happy, happy to know I pulled him through the toughs of his life, the ups and downs, through the secrets and scandals he had to experience.\n\nThe wet fur when he cried or drooled, the squishing and squashing when he hugged, rolled over me, and even forgot me under a pile of clothing.\n\nFrom nights when strange shadows hovered him, stalkers loomed in the windows, and his sister checking in on him.\n\nHe was the first one to grant me life, through happiness and sickness, he picked out me at the thrift-store. He knew the previous person wasn't fond of me, they abandoned me there.\n\nHis childish nature, smile have stuck with him from when we first met, and I've been glad to be the warmth he took comfort in. To be something near and dear when the world felt it would collapse.\nBut he was right, everything has a time to leave. But even then I wouldn't forget him.\n\n*Now that he has moved out on his own and can buy his own sex toys, he won't be needing any of us anymore.*\n\n(I'm so sorry buddy, that's what popped up into my mind the first thing that popped into my mind)",
"I can't say how long I've been watching them, only that there have been many moments when I've been awake and that during those moments I've witnessed many events of both greater and lesser importance. Arguments, love making, dressing for work, crying, cleaning, nights spent on the couch watching movies, all of these I've lived along with them. That's how it works, when I can see them (and when they can see me) I'm shocked from oblivion into silent consciousness. They give me life. Without someone there to see, I sublimate back into nothingness. Sometimes they look at me and I feel like they can almost sense my presence, I desperately try to look them back in the eye and force a connection that is never made. Still, I am as content with this condition as can be expected. They are good people.\n\n\nThe man paces now, slowly, in a line across the living room. He is upset. The last event I remember is the two of them leaving in a rush, the woman did not look well. They did not stop to look at me before they went out the door. Strange that she is not here with him now; its very rare for them to be apart for long. I waited along with him, confident that she would enter the frame soon and the picture would be complete again. Hours passed and she did not appear but the man did not seem anxious for her return. He was clearly agitated but he made no glances to the door nor did he attempt to check his phone for a message from her.\n\n\nHe stopped his pacing and kneeled down before the coffee table. After pausing for a moment, he leaned down further and pulled out a leather photo album from the storage rack under the table. Still on his knees, he hunched over the open pages and flipped through them slowly. It was hard to see since he was partially obscured by the table but there were times when he bent his head down towards a page. Was he touching his forehead, cheek, or lips to some of the pictures? I couldn't tell but I did see that he was convulsing now, his shoulders and back heaving in a broken rhythm. Suddenly, he leveled a tearful look over his shoulder in my direction. He rose and began to walk towards me.\n\n\nIt wasn't me he was walking to but something else on the wall I had my back to. I could see him in more detail now, eyes red, face flushed and wet with tears and mucus. He came to a standstill just to my right, all I could see was his right arm and shoulder now. He just stood there, for minutes, staring at whatever was next to me. With one swift motion he jerked the object from the wall and flung it to the far side of the room where it smashed and fell to the floor. The now jagged glass tried unsuccessfully to contain a wedding photograph in its broken frame. He turned to storm off but paused after catching me out of the corner of his eye, then moved so that we were face to face with each other.\n\n\nHe scanned my face top to bottom, taking in every tortured detail, finally looking directly into my eyes. I tried with every effort to make the connection, for him to see me and recognize. For the briefest moment I thought there was understanding, but then his lip curled in a snarl of abandon and he brought his fist directly into my face. I felt no pain from the blow but I was still shocked by the act. I looked and saw him the way a dragonfly does; in an innumerable collage of identical facets. A thousand of his blood smeared faces looked back at him. He stood there staring at us, fuming and raging and weeping. I wished the other one would come back soon and help him.\n\n\nFinally he walked away, I watched him with myriad prismatic eyes as he picked up a canister that sat near the door to the garage. He returned to the center of the living room and knelt down again. I watched him raise the container over his head and soak himself with a semi-clear liquid. I watched the wet spot grow outward from him as it absorbed into the soft carpet. Without hesitation or ceremony he tossed the can away and struck a lighter. My final image is of engulfing flames and the silent, writhing agony of the man on the floor.",
"\"It's time to go\" He whispered to me, hugging me tight\n\n\"But I'll see you soon, I promise\" He whispered to me as he slowly lowered me into a bag, soon thereafter it begun to fill with other objects, knick-knacks and memories. They couldn't keep me when they had to move, I knew this. Everything must part.\n\nBut I was happy, happy to know I pulled him through the toughs of his life, the ups and downs, through the secrets and scandals he had to experience. \n\nThe wet fur when he cried or drooled, the squishing and squashing when he hugged, rolled over me, and even forgot me under a pile of clothing. \n\nFrom nights when strange shadows hovered him, stalkers loomed in the windows, and his sister checking in on him. \n\nHe was the first one to grant me life, through happiness and sickness, he picked out me at the thrift-store. He knew the previous person wasn't fond of me, they abandoned me there.\n\nHis childish nature, smile have stuck with him from when we first met, and I've been glad to be the warmth he took comfort in. To be something near and dear when the world felt it would collapse.\n\nBut he was right, everything has a time to leave. But even then I wouldn't forget him.\n\n(Pretend a line is here)\n\nMan I am rusty as stories right now.",
"Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out. I'm so nervous, but in an excited can't wait sort of way. Throughout your life you hear of stories, stories of what happens when its your turn. That's all speculation however, no one truly knows what happens to us but I believe that it is all worth the wait and I'm starting to tremble, completely giddy with happiness.\n\nEver since I could remember, I heard stories and fables of what is to come once you reach the end of the line. I devoured those stories as I viewed them as a salvation from this over packed nightmare that I've been living. Don't get me wrong, being this close to your friends and family is a blessing, The pieces to my left and right were my two best friends, Carl and Toby. However, being this close and connected to everyone is also a curse. I mean right above me was Harry, the nastiest, foulest, worst excuse for paper that I've ever seen and right below me was Patricia. Oh Patricia, she complained about EVERYTHING and ANYTHING. I mean talk about a complete waste of sheet. Charmin have mercy.\n\nNeedless to say I'm feeling like I might explode out of pure unadulterated bliss. I don't have a care in the world and Carl, Toby, and I are almost in tears due to the anticipation that is continuing to overwhelm us. Carl begins to get even more excited. \"It's here! It's here! The transport is here!\" Carl yells to the rest of us. I can hear the rest of the sheets cheering us on in both encouraging and envious tones.\n\nSoon the transport begins to pull Carl, Toby, and I. \"Guys this is it! It's really happening! What do you think it's like?\" Carl's talking so fast its almost impossible to understand him. I decide to close my eyes, wanting to just feel everything in that moment and to just make the surprise even better. I close my eyes, and I feel the air rushing through me at exhilarating speeds, I feel the soft caress of the transport, a tingle runs down my backside. Pure Nirvana.\n\nNot being able to contain myself any longer I open my eyes in a rush. Blackness.\n\nOut of the blackness I hear Toby say something in a very grave tone\n\n\"Oh Shit....\" "
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[WP] A trip to the principle's office ends with a district wide lockdown. You've discovered a dark truth.
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"The other corridors were always bustling with life, whether it was recess or just a student late for class or running to pee or the teacher on duty passing through. You were never alone for long in the other hallways. Not hallway 5 though or death mountain as we called it. For the past two hours only one teacher had walked by the first floor corridor and that was the deputy principal. The bell rang for classes to end but there were no students bursting out of these doors. \n\n'It's over sneak home quietly he's probably not here,' a voice in my head whispered. \n'that will only make things worse.' a second smarter voice responded. \n\nI could hear his secretary typing at her office. Footsteps came up the stairs the school accountant came lumbering towards me. He knocked at the secretary's office before poking his head in. \n\n\"Is he in?\" The deep voice asked. \n\n\"No not yet.\" she responded. He came back out. He paused to stare at me. \n\n\"How long have you been here?\" he asked. \n\n\"Since two O'clock.\" I said. \n\n\"And what did you do?\" he barked. \n\n\"I star....\" I didn't hear the words myself and I was the one saying them. He took a step towards me hands in his pockets eyes piercing a hole in my head. \n\n\"I think I know you, wait til he gets here.\" He lumbered back to his office. Years of accounting with no PE class had piled the pounds on him he looked more like the lovechild of a walrus and a penguin than an accountant to me. \n\nHad he not been talking on his phone I wouldn't have heard Principal Mitnew coming. His steps would make a cat jealous. there was a reason he caught students doing things even other teachers on duty didn't. His bald head shone as the afternoon sun reflected on it. He wasn't tall. I'd seen him stand with the school football team. Tim Alsko, the team captain was 5'11\" and he was at least two inches taller than him, but size wasn't everything. The way everyone called him sir and cleared the way spoke volumes his quiet demeanor didn't. He was not like the principal of Adonre High, he instilled fear. \n\n\"Look that thing just can't happen this is one of those times I have to put my foot down, Goodbye.\" His red tie shook vigorously as he cut off the call, the creases on his forehead a warning to all, Mitnew is not in a good mood. With every step he made my pulse quickened, I was in a light world and a dark tunnel was approaching quick. \n\n\"What's your name?\" he commanded of me still typing on his phone. \n\n\"Da...Da...David, David Poderson.\" \n\n\"David, you're the one giving Mr. Achicha a hard time?\" \n\n\"No...I\" \n\n\"Just wait I'll get to the bottom of this.\" he said resolutely. My reformation had become one more chore for him to do today. \"Get into my office and wait.\" He put the phone once more to his ear. \n\nSheep taken to be slaughtered have steadier steps after all they are led by a rope unlike I who walked himself into the office. The place was larger than the other teacher's offices in the school. A black table stood firmly on his side complemented by an enormous red chair. For the guests he had two large brown chairs. Behind was a bench. I assumed for students to sit on while the parents talked. My parents weren't here so I sat on the chairs at the table admiring the book case behind his seat. He had an entire encyclopedia set, A-Z. He must have been a clever man to read all of them. \n\nAs if on queue he entered. He took one look at me. \n\n\"Did I tell you to sit here?\" he asked curtly. \n\n\"No sir...\" \n\n\"Then? sit where the students sit, this is for parents.\" \n\nI shot out of the chair and went on the low form. There was no smile from him as he sat on his massive throne. At that moment I understood the power dynamics of our relationship. He was king, the king of Mentosia High and at best I was some misbehaving squire unworthy of his time. \n\n\"So tell me David, do you like being here?\" \n\nI had no response. \n\n\"Well? I'm I the one who called you here?\" \n\nI kept mum. \n\n\"Answer Me!\" he bellowed banging on his desk. \n\n\"No sire...I mean no sir.\" \n\n\"So why do you keep interrupting Mr. Achicha's class?\" \n\n\"What is your problem, why do you keep yelling about wasps stinging you in class?\" \n\nI couldn't respond. The last time I had told my classmates about it they looked at me with that look that said I was crazy. No one else could see them it sounded like a horrible and tired prank. \n\n\"David, do you think that maybe we need to get your parents involved.\" he asked. I shook my head defeated there would be no more outbursts from me but. \n\nA wasp buzzed in the room landing on the principal's desk from which he looked down on me. He swept his hand over the desk and it hovered to dodge. It buzzed over the desk this time landing on my knee. It was unlike anything I had seen before it had yellow and green wings one inch long and blue antenna. It's black body bristled as it crawled up my leg. \n\nI wanted to swat it away but this had to be the worst time possible to do that. It came up my thigh I couldn't take it anymore I brushed it away and it flew back out through the vent it had come in through. \n\n\"Wait, you could see that?\" he asked in wonder. \n\n\"Well they are what's been disturbing me.\" I said. \n\nWe stared at each other in silence for a moment. \n\n\"Since when have you been seeing these 'wasps'\" he asked. \n\n\"I guess for a month now they usually appear around noon but have been lasting longer and longer. I've never seen one this late but it's not only wasps I've seen some pretty strange creatures bigger than them. \" A look of worry crossed his face. He stood up and took an encyclopedia from his desk. \"Get up here, I want you to point out every single animal you've seen in the past month and if it's not here describe it.\" \n\nHe took out his phone I could see he only pressed three digits. \"Mr Olsen, close the district. It's happening here.\" \n\n\"What's happening here?\" I asked. \n\n\"Tireneflon,\" he responded as he pulled back his bookcase. \"There's another dimension David and every one hundred years theirs and ours link and some of their inhabitants can cross to our dimension and we to theirs.\" \n\n\"Is that bad?\" I asked looking up from the book. \n\n\"Oh it is very bad, you see their place has been destroyed by their wars and is a nuclear wasteland. Those animals you see are probably scouts sent to prepare for the invasion by spreading disease. Everyone here is probably infected.\" \n\nHe took out a double barrelled device that on any day I would have thought was to heavy for him. \"Now we're going to wait here as the CDC comes. They'll probably notice we've raised the alarm and have to be ready. Don't worry David, you're no longer in trouble.\" \n\nI wanted to smile but from the window I saw the ground split. A pair of claws held it for grip and a truck-sized, orange monstrosity, crawled out. \n\n\"Oh boy David are you in for a baptism of fire on the life of a Linesman,\" he said as he took aim. \n\n***\nYou can read more of my stories at /r/pagefighter."
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[WP] You find a dead body in one of the dumpsters at your apartment complex. It looks exactly like you. You aren't a twin.
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"I was throwing out a week's worth of takeout when I saw it. I was me, lying face up, eyes wide open, a grin on my face, and covered in week old mushu and kung pow chicken. After the initial shock fades I stumble over to the newspaper box to check today's date. When I pick up today's paper it all makes sense, the headline reads: *Break in at Madame Tussauds Wax Museum, hundreds of wax figures stolen.*\n\n",
"\"I'll take out the trash tonight, honey. Tonight is going to be record cold, after all. I love you.\" I said as I walked out the back door. I really don't like the cold, I thought to myself. I can't wait until this work contract is up and we can go back to the beach. Tonight was not helping.\n\n\nIt's too bad the trash bins are on the other side of the world, I continued to myself. It had snowed the night before, and it looked like I was the first one to brave the trek to the dumpsters since. As usual, nobody had shoveled the snow. -47 degrees seemed to put the world in a trance, I noted as I trudged through the snow. This was the first time we have lived in the snow. Wisconsin did not hesitate to give us the full winter experience. No thanks, I continued in my mind. I could feel my skin becoming numb to the cold around me as I passed the halfway mark. \n\n\n\"You know, this really isn't so bad, once you get the first few weeks over with\" I said audibly to myself above the light breeze. The snow is sort of beautiful, in its own way. The overcast sky above reflected the lights of the town; the grey and white tones everywhere reflected light almost as bright as twilight. The beauty of the scene around me engulfed me. Winter was becoming beautiful to me. \"Funny\", I said to myself, knowing the beauty wouldn't last, but welcoming it nonetheless as it made my trash run more pleasant.\n\n\nI was finally there. I opened the slightly ajar lid, hefted the trash bag, ready to throw it in, when I saw something in the dumpster that made my heart jump like an earthquake hit it: me! I calmed myself quickly, took a second look, and my heart jumped again. There I was, laying in the trash, lifeless, cold, and frozen. I looked around me and saw nobody, although I'm sure somebody heard my yelp. Was this some cruel prank? I stepped on my trash bag, now lying on my feet, for a closer look, maybe somebody went to elaborate lengths to make a dummy. I got close to my own face and saw my own scars. This is surreal. I could not take my eyes off of myself. \n\n\nI finally gathered myself and reached out to touch my face, going for my eyebrow first; as I made contact, I could feel nothing. I realized I hadn't felt the cold for some time, which is odd for a record cold. Then it hit me with a weight I could never prepare myself for: I am dead. Thoughts flooded my mind; my first thought was a rapid dawning that being deceased meant I would be separate from my wife, with the deep, profound horror and pain accompanying a loss I was not ready for. I could not spend enough time with her in a thousand years, but despite this, death had bid us part in just three short years! I can't accept this. I took off at a run toward her, but the snow which had moments ago been a beautiful thing now impeded my sprint, and I could not move my body. \n\n\nI began to cry, but no tears came out. My emotions flared up in anguish, knowing my sweet wife did not yet know the tragedy that had befallen us. I was on my hands and my knees in the frigid, accumulated water, but I could not feel the cold. I could feel nothing, but I felt more pain than I could ever before even fathom. I heard someone approaching, leaving fresh footprints in the snow through which I had hiked minutes before. As the person came closer, I recognized my beautiful Whitney underneath the snow clothes. I ran toward her, yelling \"No! No!\" frantically, in vain trying to prevent her from seeing what would be worse to her than it would be for me. I looked back at the dumpster, seeing for the first time the drops of blood running down the side, dark crimson against dumpster green, shimmering dully against the light of a distant street light. I noticed it, but she would not yet, not until she reached the bin. I despaired as I watched her walk, transfixed by her beauty, dreading her reaction, rooted to the spot, unable to move, make noise, deter, distract, show affection, embrace her, cry, prepare her for the horrid scene that awaited her momentarily, almost dizzy from the emotions and thoughts swirling inside of me like an awful tempest, contrasted heavily against the calm, chilly breeze outside. Maybe she would go look for me elsewhere! After all, my footprints had been erased, maybe she would realize I hadn't been to the dumpster. Nobody had in almost 24 hours. How my body was there, I don't know.\n\n\nAs she approached the dumpster, she let out an audible gasp and broke into a jog; she had seen the blood. I can't bear to watch, but I can't turn my gaze from the girl for whom I care so completely. I heard a whisper above her footsteps saying, \"blood? why?\" I ran toward her and reached her as she put her hand on the lid of the dumpster. I said \"don't open it!!!\" in exasperation, but to no avail. She was opening it as I slowed down next to her. I saw the light hit first my foot, and I saw the panic begin to spread across her face. She tiptoed and looked into the dumpster, full of dread. I saw her face as realization dawned upon her, horror spread across her face, she shreaked, louder and with more anguish than I had ever before seen or heard from her, and as she shrieked, everything went blank, whether black or white, I cannot tell, but the scene before me faded from my consciousness, and it was over. I saw no more."
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[WP] You wake up tomorrow and see on the news that Canada has been secretly building a moon base for years and has moved to it overnight, leaving the entire territory for the world to fight over.
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"They left me.\n\nI, like every other Canadian citizen over the age of 14, had been sworn to secrecy about the moon project (the Luna Mission) for years. \n\nI had been fitted for survival ear, my name marked down in a hefty ledger, later to be transcribed into a computer database, so I would be included in counts for supplies. I had a ticket, and a seat on the aircraft.\n\nBut, for the first time in my 25 years, I was drunk last night. The whole country had been awash in parties and my best friend, Gabby, had convinced me to drink, my last chance to do so before we left earth.\n\nGabby had left with some man who had beguiled her with his first-class ticket for the night's flight. What happened on earth would stay on earth, right?\n\nAfter she left, I had kept drinking. I had a particular fondness for rum and coke, apparently.\n\nI'm not entirely sure what happened after that, but I woke up this morning in that same bar, partially hidden under a bench against one wall.\n\nCompletely alone.\n\nI wasn't just the only one in the bar, but the only one in Vancouver- and the only one in the country.\n\nI supposed, in my groggy and hungover state, that somewhere in the country was some foreigner, who woke up in his hotel room with no one at the front desk, or perhaps an American who had crossed the border for an early work day, only to find an empty office.\n\nBut I felt pretty freaking alone.\n\nMy hand went to my pocket for my phone, but I didn't know who to call.\n\nI stood up, slowly, as my head was pounding, and made my way to the door of the bar.\n\nMy car was outside, which made sense. No one was here to take it, though it was unlocked and standing alone in the parking lot.\n\nI drove home, to the apartment I shared with Gabby and Heidi. Or, that I had shared. Past tense.\n\nMy head was clearing by the time I walked in, and I sipped a glass of lukewarm water as I sat down on the couch, cursing myself for my stupidity.\n\nI hadn't missed a deadline in my entire life. High school valedictorian, successful young journalist, with a girl-next-door demeanor and a volunteer record longer than the Bible. I didn't miss deadlines. It wasn't me.\n\nThe plan had been simple enough: Canadian families had the opportunity to register, beginning six years ago. Individual scientists had been sent up, just a few at a time, to Luna Camp to ensure that supplies and loving arrangements were in order. Everyone had signed up, even on the condition that they tell no one. Exceptions were made for non-Canadian spouses or immediate family members, who could sign up as well.\n\nAfter signing up, each person was given a ticket. On the ticket was printed the address of a loading area- sites all over the country that could fit nearly 8000 people per ship.\n\nThe ships would stagger their arrival on the moon, but not their takeoff.\n\nAt the exact moment the ships had taken off, an email had been sent to the UN and most big countries, explaining what had happened.\n\nExplaining that we wouldn't be coming back.\n\nExplaining that the land area formerly known as Canada would be up for grabs, as well as anything left behind.\n\nExplaining that in exchange, we were officially staking claim to the moon.\n\nExplaining that the American flag already flown there would be kept standing, as a courtesy. \n\nAt this moment, as I slouched on my sofa, foreign governments were making arrangements to split up the country. I had no doubt that America would end up with most of it. Pushy bastards.\n\nI didn't want to be an American. Not with those prospects of future presidents, no sir.\n\nI had no way to join my friends and family on the moon.\n\nI didn't for one second want to be known as \"the only Canadian left on earth\" or worse, \"that idiot Canadian who missed takeoff.\"\n\nIt would be years before I had the chance to contact anyone.\n\nAs it was, I was going to have to go into hiding until then. I spoke passable French- not enough to pass myself off as French in France, but enough to pass as French in Spain, or Austria. Perhaps the Czech Republic.\n\nI would go to the US, find a flight to Europe, and stay. I would stay until contact was safe and I felt comfortable exposing myself for the idiot I felt like.\n\nAnd that's where I am now. Anyone reading an online post doesn't need to know my name or track me. But the last Canadian on earth is roaming Europe, passing as French, missing her countrymen.\n\nOne day, I will join them."
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[WP] "How long before you kill me?" "Not long." "Sweet."
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"His blond curls bob happily, dimples popping out. \"How long before you kill me?\" \"Not long.\" \"Sweet.\" The pair laugh. \"Dork,\" his blue eyes crinkle at the edges. \"Cutie-patootie.\" \"I'm a man! Not a fucking rabbit!\" The brown-eyed man just boops the other's nose. \"I swear it, you'll be the death of me.\" \"Probably 'cause you didn't do the dishes, you bastard.\"\n\nHe presses a kiss to his lips.",
"I rock back and forth in the wooden chair, my hands and legs tied down by metal bands. \"How long before you kill me?\"\n\n\"Not long.\"\n\n\"Sweet. I'm tired of this interrogation bullshit, I ain't giving you a thing.\"\n\n\"Oh you will, or you'll die.\"\n\n\"How does that make sense? You need me alive for the information but you threaten death if I don't comply? You do realize that makes your threat empty, right?\"\n\n\"Your self preservation instincts will kick in and you'll tell us so you live.\" \n\n\"But you have no threat, and if I tell you, you have no reason to keep me alive, so why should I feel threatened?\"\n\n\"Because I'll kill you if you don't tell me.\"\n\n\"Alright then, How long before you kill me?\"\n\n\"Not long.\"\n\n\"...\""
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[WP] You've discovered a family secret that will change your life. The only problem is that your entire family is actively opposing you.
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"“What do you mean you’re not my mother?” I said. Her face fell, blank. My dad stepped up, wrapped his arm around her shoulder. She appeared to relax.\n\n“That’s right, son,” said my dad. “Josie is your sister.”\n\n“My sister? Wait. What?”\n\nJosie tensed. Her shoulders jumped. Her pleading eyes looked at my dad. Her dad? “No son, it’s not what you think.”\n\n“Then what is it?” I asked, demanded to know. Dad’s brow furrowed. Josie pulled away.\n\n“Well, son,” he struggled in thought. Josie walked to the window. Stared out. Her eyes went unfocused. “Your mother,” dad said. Josie’s eyes came back, focused, fell to the swimming pool.\n\n“Wait a minute,” I said, I interrupted. Something didn’t add up. Over dad’s shoulder, on the wall, hung a picture. I had never really paid it much attention. I pushed by him. Ripped the frame off the nail. “That pool wasn’t always here?” His eyes bugged, bounced to Josie. Josie’s eyes had bugged, they bounced back at him then slid to me. “I’m going to the police,” I said.\n\n“I’m sorry son, but we can’t let you do that,” said dad. Josie held a pistol in her hand."
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[WP] Every night you yell a question to the stars. Tonight, you finally get your answer.
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"Okay, so she left me, big fucking deal. That’s exactly what it was too, a big deal, all of our rent money. God damn trip aces down the river and I thought I was golden. Nope, followed the river right up shit’s creek without a paddle. That mother fucker with the tea shades had a full house. Dude didn’t rake in anything all night and now this? So I left, and when I got home, she was gone. Just a note on the kitchen table remained of her existence. *I told you not to go.*\n\nSo now, I’m on the roof again, just like that Eve 6 song. I’m not planning on jumping or anything like that, I’m just up here with a room temperature Heineken, looking at the stars, syncopated tapping on the glass bottle, mind going a mile a minute. Man, I really screwed up this time. First time? No, I’ve screwed up lots of times. Funny what watching *Airplane!* at two-thirty in the morning will do to your thought process. \n\nWell, this beer sucks. It’s too goddamn warm out here for this bullshit. So I chucked it. Yeah, right off the roof, I did. I don’t care, sue me for chrissakes. There was a quiet smash of the bottle, dead silence followed. Hey, at least I chucked it at the dumpster so relax would ya? \n\n“**WHY FUCKING ME?**”\n\nThis is what I went with. I don’t know why, hell, I didn’t even think it would make me feel any better. The shouting? Yeah definitely, but not the words. I never pick the right words. Well, wouldn’t you fucking know it, I picked the goddamn winners this time.\n\n“Why not ‘fucking’ you?” \n\nIt was a calm, soft voice, but firm. Firm enough to whip my head around and nearly lose twenty-eight years off the side of this bullshit south Brooklyn apartment building. There stood a man. Just a normal fucking man. He had a suit sure, but it wasn’t nothing fancy, just like a normal JC Penny suit. No watch, no gold chain. Just a black suit and a cue ball fucking dome. \n\n“Who the fuck are you?” I asked putting on my best tough guy façade.\n \n“Hey, can you cut out the swearing for a minute lad?” \nGreat, I was talking to a fucking leprechaun. What the hell was in that beer?\n\n“What do you want?” I chocked back a few f bombs with clenched fists.\n\n“Well, I want to know why not you? You asked why ‘fucking’ me, so please, enlighten me.”\n\nI was stunned, I actually shook my head in disbelief like this was some kind of cartoon. “What are you my landlord or something?”\n\n“No, I’m not your landlord, lad, but more like, your parole officer.”\n\nI laughed out loud, really I did. Wasn’t some bullshit text type lol either. Noise escaped my lips. “Right, my PO. I’ve never been arrested you fucking nut.”\n\n“Dave, what did I say about the swearing, please.” The man shook his head and looked out past the roof at a passing airplane.\n\n“How do you fu-know my name?” I was angrier than surprised at this point. Sure, I lost our money gambling once in a while, but it was my fucking money, I never borrowed from no sharks. \n\n“Okay lad, we are going to skip the pleasantries and get right down to facts. I’m sort of like your parole officer, but for you know, the afterlife.”\n\n“What the fuck are you talking about?”\n\n“I’m gonna head on if you don’t cut that out mate.\" The mysterious man shook his head once more and began walking towards me with his hand outstretched. I stayed rooted to the roof, but my nerves were on the edge.\n\n“Pleasure to meet you Dave, my name is Will. Some people would call me a sort of ‘guardian’ angel or some malarkey like that. I like to think I help people get on the right track at the right moment.The way I see it, you are going to jump off this roof tonight and you’re not going to like the place you are going, savvy?”\n\n“Do Irish people even say savvy?”\n\n“Look here now, you dunderhead, that’s your question to me? Some kind of literary inconsistency? You mate, are going to hell if you don’t change your ways, and quick.” Will slipped a pocketwatch from his trousers and snapped it open. “According to me watch, you’ve only got about ten minutes.”\n\nMy mouth was gaping at this point. I couldn’t believe a fucking word of this. \n“Okay, so what if I were to jump right now? What then?”\n\n“Then mate, you’d be daft as a dodo because the timing doesn’t really make a difference. You’d have just wasted the ten minutes you had left and made Satan’s job easier. You wouldn’t want to do a thing like that would ya?”\n\nWe had the entire roof to ourselves and yet here we were standing next to the edge, my life coming to a close in t-minus eight minutes.\n\n“Well, I’ve got one beer and probably about a shot of whiskey left to my name. How would you like it? I wouldn’t want it to go to waste.” I held the bottle of Jameson in one hand and an unopened can of Guinness in the other.\n\n“That would be very kind of you Dave.” Will moved forward to take the alcohol, but not before I threw them both over my shoulder, off the ledge.\n\nSo long story short, here I am chilling out in heaven because my goddamn parole angel or whatever the fuck he was punched me square in the face and sent me hurtling to my death. The big brass up here in the clouds didn’t want no bad publicity of some violent angels working for the good guys so they set me up with this sweet villa about a thousand feet above the Panama Canal. I’ll tell you, the weather is perfect here. Heaven is the tits. Cheers Will, you fucking beautiful bastard. \n"
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WW3 resulted in the end of civilization as you had known it.. every major world power was overthrown. The Cause? Pokémon Go.
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[WP] It is 2075. you are telling your grandkids about world war 3.
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"Lying on my deathbed, mere days left. The wonders of medicinal technology have kept me alive for unethically long, but my time is finally running out.\n\nToday, though, is different than most days spent having convertions with the bleeping heartrate monitor. I can't understand it and I think the language barrier goes both ways. Just a few minutes ago, my grandkids barged in through the small dorm I'm confined to, followed by a stressed nurse. I told her to calm down, and leave us.\n\nFinally, Billy breaks the silence.\n\"Gramps, what was world war 3 like?\"\n\nA dangerous question, as the topic is one of the subjects the leader tries to censor. Nevertheless, I start talking.\n\n\"Billy, Freya; Have you ever heard about Pokémon?\"\n\nThey look at each other for a moment, their confused eyes meeting, and I can't help but smile. Turns out, that's another censored topic.\n\nI start explaining the phenomenon, purposefully skipping parts such as \"Gen 6\" and \"Garbador\", as I've sworn to make them disappear from history. Half an hour later, I can start talking about the war. \n\n\"In the year of 2016, a new take on the franchise surfaced. An augmented reality game, overlaid on top of the real world. Everything worked nicely at first, until people found out about special spots in restricted areas. Eventually, Area 51 -a now identified alien research center- was barged into. The horde responsible for the break-in, consisted of almost \nthirty-thousand people, yet after only 15 minutes, they were not people anymore, rather piles of goo, radiating with heat energy. People found out about the incident, even though the government tried to cover it by all means possible, sparking a world-wide outrage. The US government, under president Cruz, decided it was a case of global danger, and took it as their mission to erase its existence.\n\nFast forward a year and the mission is starting. Every ten minutes, every source of digital entertainment gets interrupted, presenting the mission, and its slogan; \"End the unholy menace, fight for god's sake!\", indoctrinating people into supporting the mission. Finally, the plan came to action, but not before every company that was not bribed by the government, had bounded together to fight it: Split into three divisions, each with their own purpose and each under their own leader, who all worked for Google, the main force of resistance, and the starter of the movement known as \"Team Green\".\n\nGlobal war ensued, as the US, along with an unlikely ally; China, fought Team Green, until one day, when finally both of them got nuked and almost completely wiped out. What little had not been killed, had lost its morale and fighting spirit, and gave up willingly. Peace had finally come.\"\n\nAs I say the last word, and look down at my clock, and realize it's 05:26. I've been talking for eight hours. I look down at Billy and Freya, only to see both of them sleeping heavily as ever. \n\nOh well; it's safer that they don't know."
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[WP] Humans finally come into contact with alien life, and open a line of communication with them. The subject of God is brought up, to which they respond, "What, you haven't met him?"
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"The air in the room gets hot and those of us with capillaries under our faces, suddenly develop a flush in our skin. The ambassador sits there, a look of subtle confusion on his face.\n\nThere was no way he meant what he said.\n\nThis meeting was streaming live and in my head I could here social media reactions already, \"Did the ambassador just suggest that his people have *met* God?\" There's no way.\n\n\"Ambassador, I'm sorry. I don't know that you fully get the meaning of what I am saying. On Earth, many belief systems hold fast to the idea of a single, perfect being, omnipotent and all powerful. A single entity who created all things... surely you're not saying that your people have made contact with a being such as this.\"\n\nThe ambassador smiles, his pale blue skin and elongated face perking up.\n\n\"Is it so strange an idea? Just as we have made contact with you, and our knowledge and technology exceeds your own, there are those that exceed even us. A people somewhere made a way to make contact with... \"Him\".\n\nAs I formed words in my mouth the ambassador gestures with a single hand.\n\n\"I understood your words completely as you did mine. Surely you're aware of our decades of studying your 'humor' and I assure you, this is no joke.\"\n\nI pondered his statement a moment.\n\n\"This is... this is a big thing for us to say the least. Large portions of our planet either don't believe in this being or believe in another group of deities, or some other form.\"\n\nFor hours on we spoke about... Allah, Jehovah, Gaia, whatever you want to call your supreme being, but we spoke about them. What an encounter like that can and has done for planets, for solar systems, how for eons after nothing- and I mean **nothing** is the same. \n\n\"Can we you arrange a meeting? Do we go to him, does he come here?\"\n\nThe ambassador looked to his entourage. \"A meeting can be arranged. It can be arranged...\" He looked at his entourage again, who all smiled and nodded enthusiastically, \"...today.\"\n\nA global broadcast was no small task but in hours it was being arranged. A central meeting place and display was set up at the ambassadors ship. Prior to my arrival there millions of people flocked there, an arrival on foot couldn't be made for the throngs pressing in and creating a sea of humanity that very literally went on to the horizon in every direction. Every religion represented itself, every belief structure was there. People who wanted to meet Yahweh and people who wanted to see L. Ron stood side-by-side with people, who, dappled with sweat, didn't think there was anyone to meet just a scant few hours ago.\n\nDisplay screens were posted and the ambassador's ship was able to project messages onto the air and sky. A time was counting down to the arrival and as that timer ticked down from hours, to minutes to seconds, the sky grew brighter and brighter still. At the 32 second mark the earth started shaking and electrical devices began to behave erratically and feedback. At 10 seconds to go you were struggling to stand under the vibrational force of the earth beneath you, the brightness was so great seeing anything at all was a struggle, and hearing over the feedback of millions of mobile devices screaming was impossible.\n\n5...\n\n4...\n\n3...\n\n2...\n\n1...\n\nThe light was overpowering. The shaking climaxed and knocked us over... every one. For miles around not a human is standing, and as we struggle to our feet, the hope of humanity is focused to single platform. Our eyes all scramble and search the screens everywhere looking to see what maybe our eyes are missing and within seconds the screens all display [**this feed**](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dQw4w9WgXcQ) from the ambassador's ship.\n\nAnd humanity marches on.\n\n"
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[WP] The Swiss marched off to war.
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"\"Oh the swiss are off to war, ohhhh the Swiss are off to war!\" The American Army chanted loudly through the streets of Switzerland. The way they said it made it clear they were mocking them. Almost like it was a joke, a easy battle, like it isn't even a challenge. \n\nThe thing is, the Swiss never aren't going to war. I know this because I am a Canadian spy, and I have been here for the last 12 years. I hear everything. I see everything. I'm not the only spy planted here. J-boy, 7th year. Runt, 9th year. Fritz, 12th year. That's just to name a few. The few I like. \n\nFritz is special to me, he was on the same plane with me. We both had no idea who each other was, but it became clear when we kept seeing each other around. They had us on the same mission, not saying a word about there being 2 guys. \n\nWell after about a year fritz and I started talking over the secured line. We planned to create a spy 'gang', that way we could cover a lot more at one time. We would all get in a conference call, secured line of course, and fill in each other. \n\nIt was fritz that told me about this whole 'going to war' scheme. He told me that it was planned to stop the worry of economical collapse, to kind of distract the people you could say. \n\nThat was the last time I talked to him, 67 days ago. Fritz isn't with us anymore, well none of the guys are really anymore. \n\nThere was this method of brainwashing. Nobody knows how, where, what or why. \n\nBy the way my name is, Donald. "
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Inspired from here this video.
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[WP] 15 Flying Sauces Hover Over The Sky, They Utter Only 1 Word. "Terra"
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"'Terra'\n\nThe worlds current Population is approximately 7.4 Billion people, Around about half of those were waking up, The other half. Just falling asleep. When one word boomed out of every car radio, Speaker. Earphone, TV set and Train Stop Mega-phone. One word. 'TERRA'\n\nThe worlds current Populations is approximately 7.4 Billion People All of them. Wide awake. All of them looking towards the sky. One word, connecting everyone, one word buried deep in the subconscious of every man, woman and child on Planet earth, the one word no-one can resist. The earths true name. \n\n'Terra'\n\nsomeone had come to claim back there territory. "
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[WP] A Great elder evil was unleashed on the world, that was 50 years ago and now you wake up to another boring news report just tracking it like any other natural disaster.
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"Sheila Neeler coughed and pushed a curtain of unkempt straw hair out of her face. Like most, her face was thin and pale, and the circles under her eyes were dark and puffy. It had begun as a downward trend in self-care and eventually turned into a fashion statement among the greater population— it was easier to declare the new norm “beautiful” than to put in the extra effort to achieve a pre-Elder beauty look.\n\n“Looks like New York City is due for another Dread Deep Worm migration, so stay away from beaches and waterway, yadda yadda. Scientists claim to have spotted plant matter sprouting from the ruins of Los Angeles, though critics have cited a lack of concrete released evidence. Say’s here we’re on week… 46?” She cocked her head at an intern off camera. “Yup, week 46 of the Great Australian Fire— for those of you only now finding your way out of the wastes to a place with a television, that is week 46 of all of Australia being… on fire. Over to our very own Tom Tanaka with the weather. Tom?”\n\n“Well Sheila, still highs in the low hundreds, still lows in the high naughts, and this morning my son shat a swarm of spiders. Tanaka out.” In a single, swift movement and with dull, tired eyes, he raised a stout little semi-automatic to his mouth, shoved the muzzle casually to the back of his throat, gagged lightly, and pulled the trigger.\n\nThe cameras cut back to a bored Sheila Neeler.\n\n“Our thoughts go out to the late Tom Tanaka and his family.”"
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[WP] You visit an art gallery where every painting features the interior of the art gallery itself. You begin to notice the people in the paintings look just like the people in attendance.
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"\"The worst gallery I've ever attended\" Joseph saidas he walked among the paintings. Not a single painting had any significance or artistic value, nothing more than the pictures of of old churches, some horses and mountains, some tried to mimic Picasso and a fool even tried to re-paint the da vinci's masterpiece, the Mona Lisa.\nJoseph felt as if the people who who painted (these things) were trying to mock the art itself and calling them artists should be considered a crime. He was about to leave when he noticed an entry hall behind curtains. It was empty and dimly lit but he could see some paintings on the walls. \"Why the hell not?\" He shrugged his shoulders as he headed to the hall. Behind the curtains was a silver plate with the name Mr.Christopher\nIt was amazing. Some of the finest pieces of art he ever saw for more than a decade, the paintings had no significant value but the story every painting didn't tell was. He could describe his feelings as the first time he saw Munch's painting (The scream). Simple, but it told a story every time you see it. He circled and circled the hall for almost an hour, he was taken by the joy and his feelings that he didn't feel the man behind him, he first smell the smoke, then he heard the voice \"liked them? \" he turned facing a short man, he was smoking a pipe, with a short hair and a frameless glasses. \"I'm amazed\" said Joseph as he turned facing the paintings, \"then I think I deserve a word in my notebook! \" said the man opening a small notebook. Joseph took the pen and wrote some complementary words and smiled to the man. \"You do have quite a taste\" the man said complementing Joseph's taste , \"well, I appreciate the true art, and its hard to find these days\". \nThe man smiled and tested his hand on Joseph's shoulder as he says \"well, for a man like you I have a little gift\". The man led Joseph to a long corridor with painting on one side, the man stopped Joseph before entering the corridor with a mysterious smile and said \"Be careful, these images will help you. \" he gestured Joseph to go. \nThe paintings inside were quite strange. The first one featured a gallery just like the one he's attending, the second featured a man just like him waking among the paintings, the third showed her man entering the hall. \"That's me!! What the hell\" Joseph thought to himself \"is it some kind of a prank?\" But somehow he knew that the paintings were real and a feel of dread washed over him, the fourth featured him talking to the man, in the fifth he was leaving the gallery, the sixth he was slipping in front of a speeding car, next he was talking to a pretty woman, the eighth featured a woman tearing down her face revealing a monster face beneath, and the last featured his dead body as the monster feeds on him, some paintings were missing\nHe was shocked by what he saw, and though he looked for Mr. Christopher, he was nowhere to be found, he went to the lobby and asked the front desk girl about him, she was died to hear Mr. Christophers name, a look of hate and disgust covers her face as she told Joseph that they have no artist with that name in the gallery but he incested that he saw him, so the girl told him about a man named Christopher who killed himself two years ago when his art gallery failed. Joseph left the gallery not knowing what he witnessed or what to do. It started to rain and as he was trying to cod the street he slipped and from the near corner appeared a speeding car, the sound of the screening tires pinned him to the wet ground but for his luck the driver managed to stop only inches away of his face. A pretty woman came down and ran to him \"are you ok?\" The woman asked him, he was in a shock as she helped him up \"yes I'm ok\" he said turning to her, she was pretty brunette but her nose and hereyes were red. He remembered the paintings as he noticed a dry blood drop in the corner of her mouth. \"What's that?\" He said as he backs away from her, \" it's my boyfriend, he does it a lot\" but he never got the answer because he was running as fast as he can. Joseph returned to the gallery which was empty now, and the front desk girl was finishing some paperwork, he went to her and asked to visit Mr. Christophers hall again. She turned to him with rage \"you again\" her voice want from this earth, she screamed as she stood and started to peel her face \"you didn't get the warning you fool!\" Once Joseph saw her real face he turned and ran out, jumped on the first taxi he saw. Tears streamed down his cheeks but he was laughing hysterically. The driver probably Jamaican, old with crooked teeth. He looked at him in the mirror and shook his head with sympathy, \"I know man, people have changed, honesty is a long forgotten word, do you believe that? \" \nJoseph slowly began to control himself, he whipped his years and shook his head agreeing with the driver who continued \"I once knew a painter in a gallery who showed an innocent man some heinous paintings that devastated the poor man\". Joseph started crying again and shook his head in disbelief repeating \"no, no, no\" but the driver continued \"there was these paintings showing what happened to the poor man when he got in the taxi, did he show them to the man?, no he didn't, why? For some sinister reason he have, the work is a cruel place my poor boy\" on that point, Joseph opened the taxis door and jumped out, ignoring all the pain and bruises he stood up and ran away. \nHe's probably still running..."
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I was thinking about the Golden Girls pilot. And the oldest one, Dorothy? The pilot revealed she had a stroke which destroyed the part of the brain that filters her. So when we all think "man this person is an asshole." she just says it because the filter isn't there to stop her. made me think if the joker's actions could function on a similar policy. Intrusive thoughts for him become actions.
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[WP] While The Joker is in a Coma it is discovered the impulse control part of his brain has been severely damaged for years. After repairing the damage will he be a new man or just stranger.
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"The two sat around the hospital bed, both waiting patiently for the man with the green hair to awaken. Neither was certain of the outcome. One hoped that he had been reformed, that the city of Gotham would be a better place with the Crown Prince permanently taken out of the equation. The other hoped for a different outcome entirely, neither good nor bad Harley just hoped he would come out of it alive. \n\nThe man on the bed groaned, and the two shot to their feet, one on either side. Murky green eyes shot open and Joker took his first unaided breath since the operation. The man in the dark suit grabbed at his hospital gown their faces increasingly close together.\n\n \"Speak.\" He ordered the clown Prince, who's face broke out in an ear-to-ear grin, his eyes flicking towards the girl on his other side. \n\nJoker coughed, a spot of blood finding itself onto the white sheets. \"How tell me, who do I have the honor of meeting?\" Joker winked, and the man in the bat suit sighed loftily, pushing the clown back into the bed harshly. \n\nThe man in the bat suit and the girl locked eyes momentarily, both on the edge, cautious of one another. As the man in the bat suit turned to leave he stopped by the girls side. \n\n\"Take care of him.\" Without waiting for a reply the man in the bat suit disappeared into the corridors of the hospital. \n\n"
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[WP] After years of abusing your Time Freeze power you realize you're only freezing time for others, so it never stops for you.
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"\"Happy Birthday!\"\n\nI try blowing out my candles and make a sad sputter. In my anxiety, I quickly snap my fingers.\n\n*Snap*\n\nI look about and see my guest's pitiful, still faces. I then begin blowing as much air as I can towards the candles. My fingers snap again.\n\n*Snap*\n\nI blow out my candles, all 18 of them. Impressive for someone with my condition.\n\n\"Yay!\", my family cheers. \n\nOnly my family shows up to visit me now. My friends have forgotten about me long ago, they have their own problems. \n\nI look at my family; they all seem so happy and sincere. \n\n\"Here's your slice, son.\"\n\nUsually I'm not allowed to eat cake, but that won't matter soon enough anyway.\n\nAs my family eats, I have my gaze shift towards the hospital window. In it, I see a reflection.\n\nMy family. They look so sad. My mother has tears going down her eyes, my father is covering his face, and my sisters seem to bawling. I look into my own face. \n\nWrinkles and crows feet. Hair white as snow. Ears and nose too large. It's strange for a boy to look older than his own parents. It's my own fault. \n\nI look back to my family. I see them all happy, and enjoying my birthday.\n\n\"Well son? Go on, eat your cake!\"\n\nI look at my cake. Mint chocolate. My favorite.\n\nI snap my fingers.\n\n*Snap*\n\nMy tears begin to stroll down my old, wrinkled face. Then I begin to bawl. \n\nSoon I begin to dry my face with a pillow. I allow myself to ponder what my life could've been, as I usually do. Funny how I had gotten the power to stop time, when all I wanted to do was change the past. \n\n*Snap*. \n\nMy family resumes eating their cakes. My fork brings me the first piece.\n\nIt was the best cake I had ever eaten. \n\n \n"
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[WP] Halfway up the stairs you realize someone is waiting for you at the top.
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"I walk into the house, and it looks older and beginning to fall apart, much different from what I remember. I couldn't tell if this was the beginning of what I was doing, or the end. My memories were beginning to fade away. \n\nWhen I got inside, I could see all the old things my Uncle had collected. Pictures and nicknacks from when we were children to our middle school days, and even some of our high school days. When he passed, we didn't know. Although, he was always there and remembered our birthdays and sent holiday gifts. He always knew. He had pictures of my dad, his brother, and my mom and his wife, Una.\n\nOne night, when they were celebrating their opening of the store that took 10 years to even comprehend. They were hit by a drunk driver and thrown off the road. He was the only survivor, my mother and his wife were ejected from the front, and my father survived for a few days but he passed a little before a week. He broke an arm and hurt his shoulder, but what hurt worse was his broken heart. He took us in, his brothers daughter, me at the age of 11, and my sister, the age of 9, and we grew up with his son, age of 4. My sister and I call our family, The Puzzles, because we didn't all match the same picture but we still fit together anyway. It was hard to adjust the first year.\n\nHe cried some nights and others he would be upset in the basement, asking 'what should I do Una?' On good days, we would all work at the store. People would come by and visit with us, seeing us manage well together. On the best days, we would all have dinner together at home and have movie nights or game nights to pass the time. It took while, but the store took care of us, the first year he hired help. He moved us a block away from the store, the house was smaller than his and it was home growing up for all of us. After a time, my uncle called us his daughters, and we called him our Pop and Wallace our baby brother. He was good to us, and always there.\n\nWhen Wallace turned 8, we were pretty much able to run the store without help. When I turned 18 and graduated, I stayed for another two years to help. Trisha was the first to leave home, she went on to college to learn business and he helped were he could. I left the next year, he persuaded me to go saying, \"I want you all to be successful, able to help yourselves and one another, if I were gone.\" I decided to become a writer. When it was Wallace's time to leave, he joined the military. We were all busy: I was about to finish my last fall of college, Trisha was doing her first year of interning at a bank, and Wallace was doing his AIT.\n\nIt was 15 years around the anniversary of Our parent's and Auntie Una's passing. He was closing the store, and a man came in trying to rob the store. On the surveillance footage, he pulled out a bat that was always behind the counter and swung while jumping over. The man shot him in the chest and in his belly, but my Uncle got him on the ground, unconscious. He called the police and fainted about a minute after the call. You could see him lying there mouthing words to the camera, 'Charli, Trisha, and Wallace, I love you. It will be okay. You can do this, It will be okay'. We all found out four days later, I think Trisha took it the hardest.\n\nThe tape of him passing sat beside some old books he had, with a picture of all three of us playing together beside it. I could see the lamp that Wallace and broken on the base, I seen all of Trisha's book markers lying beside the bookcases, and then there was my sculptures being displayed in his trophy case. The keys to the store were hanging beside the old chevy he was working on with Trisha, but his house and the station wagon keys were still missing. Wallace's fishing hat was beside my baseball caps. It was the way he had everything before we moved everything out. All of these things he gave to us to decide on what to do with it, as a family, but what am I doing here? \n\nI begin to walk up the stair way and there he stood, his greying hair and his horn rimmed glasses, wearing the sweater he had on the night he passed. He was mouthing words I couldn't hear and I step towards him, trying to listen. With each step it comes in a little clearer.\n\n\"Charli! My girl.\" He says smiling, \"Hey, I missed you guys.\" \n\n\"Pop? What is going on?!\" I hold on to the stair rail and confusion on my face.\n\n\"It's time to go.\" He's smiling as he laughs, \"How have you been? It's been years. Look at you.\" \n\nI reach him and he hugs me, I could feel the warmth like he never left.\n\n\"Pop?! I don't know where I am. What happened? Where is Wallace and Trisha?!\" I say holding him, I don't hear his heart beat and it freaks me out. \"What's happening to us!?\"\n\n\"We are moving on, well, you are.\" He lets me go and holds me outward, his smile is comforting and to see his eyes behind his big glasses makes it whole lot easier, \"You died a few days ago. Cancer, your son and husband were with you. Wallace came back to see you, and even Trisha and her girlfriend were there. Don't you remember? You all had pizza together and visited. Wallace said he was going to help your son, Edmund, as much as he could, and Trisha wants to be apart of his life, she told you she adopted a girl with her partner.. I'm so happy you lived good for so long, and to see you all get along is just.. fantastic!\"\n\nHe was so happy and content, we visited there for awhile. He told me he was watching, he met our parents and seen his wife again, but told them he couldn't leave us alone just yet. He watched over Wallace in his two tours. He seen Trisha help grow the shop and survive her first and last husband's anger. Then, seen me: helping tending the shop, living in the house, and writing. He read some of it and said it was really beautiful.\n\n\"I showed Shakespeare a couple of days ago, and he was jealous!\" He whispered to me, giggling.\n\nHe's been waiting for each of us, to help get to the other side. He didn't have to figure it out either, Una waited for him, and still is on the other side but he told her and my parents that, \"I have to wait for the kids, yet. I'll be back.\" So he waited on this stairway for me.\n\n\"I don't mind sitting here, I have all of Trisha's books and games to keep me company. I want to be the last person Wallace and Trisha sees when they come over. I know you will have the same option for your son, Eddie, and your husband, Randall. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.\" He held my hand as I leaned against his shoulder. We sat there for a long time, sometimes not saying anything or joking about events long since past.\n\n\"I'm sorry about the first two years, when I wasn't there. I should have let you all grieve, but what brought me back around is when you were taking care of Wallace. I knew then, I had to be the best I could for you three. I wanted the world for you all, and I tried my best to give it to you.\" He looked down at the stairs.\n\n\"Thank you, pop. I am happy you were around.\" I felt tired leaning there against his shoulder. He helped me stand and walked me up the stairs. At the top, my room door had a bright light coming from the bottom.\n\n\"My dear, I love you. It's time for you to go. I'll see you again someday, I promise.\" He made me feel like a little girl again, and wrapped his arms around me. \"I love you, my darling.\"\n\nI could feel him kiss the top of my head, he lets me go slowly, and turns me towards the door. I could feel the weight of everything leaving me. With each step, I felt lighter. When I get to the door, I turn the handle and the light envelopes me and I walk in. I close my eyes, and feel my exhaustion slip away, and the happiness filled my chest. \n\n\"Hi Mom, Hi Dad.\"\n\n"
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[WP] A person buried a time capsule in a forest which would soon become a battlefield in a few years time. A few years later, a person tries to look for the capsule, knowing that it is surrounded by undetonated bombs.
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"*Oh my god*, I think as a carefully step here and there, praying and hoping I would not make a wrong step. *Why am I doing this?*\n\nBefore I tell you about the present, I should tell you about the past. Years ago, my great grandfather, before he died, buried a time capsule in a forest, knowing it was to become battlefield in a few years. His last words to me were, \"Get that time capsule at all costs.\" I had no idea what was in it, and before I could ask him, he was gone. So, what was in had better be worth walking across a minefield and risking my life. Maybe billions of dollars, because my grandfather was a rich man. Probably family photos. Not worth it, but I'd love to save his photos anyway. He loves his family more than anything, especially his wife, Margaret. She was a nice woman with blonde hair that had slowly turned grey over time.\n\nA snap caught my attention. My head snapped up, one foot raised delicately in the air, hair standing on edge, my body frozen. A few feet away from me was a red fox. It was fluffy with a large, bushy tail that had white at the tips. Why the *fuck* it was there, I had no idea. \n\n\"Shoo!\", I hissed angrily at it, glaring daggers at the wild animal.\n\nThe fox leaped back, and I was prepared for my inevitably demise. A few moments passed of stillness. Nothing happened. I decided to just leave the damned creature alone and stick to my mission: get the time capsule.\n\nI placed my raised foot down slowly onto the ground, my eyes squeezed shut, and hoped I didn't put too much pressure on the ground. If any pressure was on any bomb for too long, it'd explode. How much pressure that was, or how long I had, I didn't know.\n\n\n\"For God's sake, why bury the damned thing *here*?\", I asked myself in an exasperated voice.\n\nSomething wet touched my bare ankle, and I swear I grew wings for a few seconds. I let out a loud shout and turned. The fox was now mere inches away. It stared curiously at me. I waved my hand at it, shooing it away once more. I only had a few more steps before I made it to that damned capsule. \n\nI turned my attention back to the metal spot on the floor. There were no bombs within 7 inches of it. If I took two more steps, I could jump and run in a small circle, and not have to watch my step. Well, at least for 7 inches.\n\nThe last step to the metal platform was sickeningly silent and terrible. I wiped the perspiration dripping from my forehead and turned to see the fox standing within the safe circle, as well. Ugh, but whatever. I had finished my task for now.\n\nI took the screwdriver from my pocket, jamming it into one of three holes on the platform, and the turned it right for a few minutes. The metal cap popped off with a 'click', and I raised it up and gently set it down besides me. The fox sat it's small rump atop it.\n\nMy hands felt down the long tube going into the ground, and I lifted a bag from the capsule. I reached inside, and pulled out a single picture of Nicolas Cage."
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[WP] You are a henchman of a super villain who has the dumbest ideas to conquer the world. And somehow, everytime a super spy stops your boss you end up surviving. You hate your job, but you stay because the pay and benefits are great.
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"**\"Uhhh... is this thing on?\"**\n\n*\"Yes boss.\"*\n\n**\"Oh good! W-well then. Greetings men. As you know, we've encountered a pretty big setback...\"** *That's what he called our base being blown to pieces?* **\"But we will rebuild! We always rebuild! And we will be stronger and more prepared than ever to make our dreams a reality! Um... Oh yes! The company barbecue is this coming weekend, your families are all invited of course. There will be a dunk tank and other festivities! I'll see you all there! Shadow Skull signing out!\"**\n\nHe turns to me. \"Jim my boy, how was that? That'll raise some spirits, right?\"\n\nI whisper: *\"Boss, the mic is still on.\"*\n\nHe lazily waves his hand. \"I have no secrets amongst my beloved men, surely you know that, my boy.\"\n\nI stride over and turn the mic off. \"Of course sir, I just... well, I don't know if that kind of candor is appropriate in this situation... The men's morale could be affected--\"\n\n\"Nonsense, Jim! The men need to know that I have a complete open door policy! What kind of business would I be running here if I lived in an ivory tower?\" *Did he just say... business?* \"I see all of you as my very own children and you need not fear reprisal for honesty here!\" His face screws up. \"Darn! I was so sure that the last plan would work! It was perfect! How did it go wrong? What did you think my boy?\"\n\n\"I-it was great! I mean, you're right -- we always rebuild.\"\n\n\"Come now boy, you didn't answer my question. What could have gone better?\"\n\nI mull over my answer. Truthfully, the whole plan was garbage, but... \"Well, sir, I think... I mean... I think that mailing people the source code for our super virus in print so that they type it verbatim into their computers maybe wasn't the best--\" His face falls. \"--analysis of our targets! Clearly the average populace is too stupid to fall for such a clever trap. Our schemes just went totally over their heads!\" \n\nHis face brightens. \"You're so right my boy! Of course! Those cattle avoided the plan by sheer idiocy! We'll have to come up with an even more fool proof plan!\" *Ah shit.*\n\n\"Sir... Pardon me if I overstep any bounds or anything, but y-you're quite wealthy, right?\"\n\nHe raises an eyebrow. \"Well, yes, but what of it?\"\n\n\"Couldn't we... you know... take over the world with your financial means? I mean we could buy out all the politicians... or buy some powerful weapons... \" I trail off as I see him shaking his head.\n\n\"No, no, no boy! You're thinking too small! We need to think bigger! Like the food poisoning plan!\"\n\n\"Sir, I just don't think--\"\n\n\"Imagine it! The whole world saddled with indigestion! The productivity loss would be staggering!\"\n\nI clear my throat. \"Of course, sir. You're right.\" \n\n\"Jim...\" He places a clawed arm around my shoulder. \"Jim, I know I can always count on you. You're honest, you got a good head on your shoulders, and you really understand what we're doing here.\" I smile weakly. \"As my top man, I think it's time we made some adjustments. I'm raising your pay by 50%, and I'm giving you two more weeks of vacation. You can use my private villa in the Caribbean -- or the one in Fiji. All of it is open to you.\"\n\n\"I-I w-w-well, I mean, thank you. Thanks boss!\"\n\n\"Anything for my men! Now lets get this new base underway, and then you take your vacation -- that's an order!\"\n\nI raise my fist. \"Yes sir! Evil abounds!\"\n\nHe returns the salute. \"Evil abounds!\"\n\n******\n\nAs the door slides closed to my quarters, I flop onto my bed. I don't really know how I got here. I have a business degree for god's sake! One odd job interview later and I'm wearing jumpsuits in a secret lair, working for a comically bad villain. The old man has got to be crazy, and I'm pretty tired of failures at every turn. I don't know how many bases we've rebuilt -- 14? 15? It's the same old shit and I just don't know if I have it in me to keep going through failure after failure. My eyes get heavy. *On the other hand, the barbecues are always fun...*",
"I walked through the front door covered in ashes and soot. My body still reeked of smoke, so I headed to the bathroom and stripped down for a shower. \n\nAs the cool water poured over my aching muscles, I drifted away into that numb spot of my mind that I could only ever seem to reach from inside a mini-torrent of water. \n\nHer arms wrapping around me brought my back to reality. \n\n\"Hey babe, hope I didn't wake you.\"\n\nShe chuckled. \"Like I ever sleep much when I'm worried about you during one of Dr. Mortal's jobs.\"\n\n\"It's not right that you should lose sleep on my account.\"\n\n\"Well, it's not right that you should have to do the grunting and lifting for that mad man, just so you can make ends meet, but here we are.\"\n\nI turned and looked at her face. She had a look of grim concern. \"Honey, I don't wanna get into to...\"\n\n\"Okay.\" She smiled \"Another time. For now... just hold me and love.\"\n\nAnd so I did.\n\n**********\n\nAfter we dried off and got into bed, she stroked my chest for a moment, then spoke hesitantly. \"Babe, I don't wanna get into an argument about the whole thing tonight, but there's one question that's been eating at me, and I'd like to ask. If you're not wanting to get into it, we can wait til morning, but I'd really like to know.\"\n\n\"Ask away honey.\"\n\n\"Why him? As much as I don't approve of you being a lackey, or a henchman or whatever you call it, I know that's part of who you are. I just don't understand why you keep working for a guy who never wins. Lord Scorpion has successfully held onto that island nation of his for decades. Xander Deathstrike manages to take in big scores more often than he gets caught.\"\n\nShe rolled over and looked at me. \"I'm not sure if it makes sense at all, but if you're gonna help a bad man do bad things, why not do it for one that succeeds at those bad things? Everytime Dr. Mortal tries something, Superion or those guys from The B.E.S. stop him within days if not hours. Why do you still work for him?\"\n\nI sighed. I knew this question would come up sooner or later, and it was one I'd always dreaded. \"It's because he treats his guys right. Scorpio throws 5 people a year into the volcano on his island. Deathstrike has been known to beat the shit out of his guys for the slightest errors. I heard one time, he broke a guys leg because he used incorrect grammar in a mission briefing.\"\n\nI cradled my fingers in hers. \"Most of us walk away from his failed schemes in one piece, and the ones that don't, they get compensated big time. One of the guys, years back, he got killed when that Jane Bunt from B.E.S. destroyed Doc's lair at the time. His family got a hundred thousand dollar pay out, and a trust fund set up for each kid so they could go to college. Ya know what Lazorback did when one of his henchmen got eviscerated by Jackal Sheppard?\"\n\nShe shook her head.\n\n\"He sent the guys brother a bill for the uniform he was wearing at the time. When the guy didn't pay up, Lazorback sent a goon to bust up his house and collect the money.\"\n\nI sighed. \"I know I'll never be able to rise beyond a certain level of income working for a small timer like Mortal, but the trade off in peace of mind is worth it. He pays a consistent monthly amount, even if there's not a mission. We don't have to start sweating buckets over rent or mortgages if he wants to lay low for several months. We don't have to worry that he'll scrimp on a fortress's safety budget so he can keep more money in his vault. I guess, in the end, I keep working for Doctor Mortal, because it means I can sleep easier at night.\"\n\nShe smiled and thanked me for answering her question and rolled over to go to sleep.\n\nI hated lying to Beth, but I had no idea how to tell her the truth. That last bit about sleeping easy was the closest I could get. I stared up at the ceiling while my guts churned with a gravelly queasiness, knowing that sleep would be a long way off for me.\n\n*******************\n\nThe next morning I woke up in a half empty bed, and it felt like it'd been that way for awhile. I looked in the bathroom and saw no sign of feminine products. The spot under the sink that should have a couple boxes of tampons was empty. I sighed and stepped into the shower.\n\n\n*************************\n\nLater that day I got into the lab and Doctor Mortal was working with tiny tools on a small leather saddle. I glanced over at a glass case and saw some crabs and lobsters. Then I looked at the other side of the room and saw some gerbils and hamsters. \n\n\"What's all this?\"\n\n\"Ah, Hello Gunther. I'm playing around with an idea for being able to place small explosive charges all across a city without drawing attention.\"\n\nMy brain took a moment to process this. \"Wait, you're planning to use hamsters riding crabs as a way to maintain a low profile?\"\n\nHe shook his head. \"Of course not. These will be used to draw attention. Meanwhile, no one will notice a bunch of hobos ducking into alley ways and setting bombs.\"\n\nSetting down the leather work, he shook his hand in the air. \"At any rate, enough of this for now. Your message said you needed to talk to me as soon as you got here. What's up?\"\n\n\"The reality warp field generator at my house stopped working this morning.\"\n\nHe pulled out a tablet and started opening some menus. \"Ah, I see. The fusion crystals have run out of juice. I should have gotten a reminder to give you some more crystals last week, but I forgot to set one the last time I filled a batch for you. I can send a drone over tonight while you're working, and the field should be back up by morning.\"\n\n\"Thanks Doc, now what can I do to help out with this gerbil lobster thing?\"\n\n\"For starters, you can get some ratty clothes for the rest of the team. I want them looking like bonafide Hobos before we start plotting out where to place the charges.\"\n\n**********\n\nIt was about 6am when I got home. Beth was in the kitchen drinking coffee and having some toast. \"Mornin' honey. Sleep well?\"\n\nShe shook her head. \"Not really. I kept having the scariest dream over and over. We were driving home from some dinner party with our friends from college. I think Matt and Mel had just announced an engagement or something. You'd had a few too many glasses of wine, but seemed fine to drive. On the way home, a deer jumped into the road and you swerved to avoid it, only to hit a tree.\"\n\nHer body shook with a shudder. \"The last few seconds kept playing over and over in my dream. The deer, the tires screeching, the tree coming up fast, blackness, repeat. I woke up in a cold sweat, and tried to go back to sleep a few minutes later, only for the dream to resume. It really rattled me, so I got up and... well, here I am.\"\n\nI walked over to her, and wrapped my arms around her. \"That was a bad night honey. If I hadn't stopped drinking when you put your foot down, I might not have swerved in time, or hit the brake quick enough to stop from hitting that tree.\"\n\nHer eyes darkened. \"Wait, that really happened? It wasn't just a dream?\"\n\n\"Yeah honey, it really happened. It left you pretty shaken that night, and for the next few days after. When I brought it up a week later, you refused to talk about it, so I left things alone.\"\n\n\"How could I just have forgotten about it?\"\n\n\"Maybe you blocked it out because it was so traumatic.\"\n\n\"That doesn't make sense. If the car didn't actually crash, it shouldn't have traumatized me. It wouldn't be that big a deal Gunther.\"\n\nSqueezing her shoulders I said \"Well, in that moment you didn't know we weren't gonna hit the tree. Neither did I, but I had my hands on the steering wheel, so I probably felt more in control. At the time, you had no control, and no way of knowing you'd be alright. It was a near death experience, and that's traumatic enough for anyone.\"\n\nShe sighed. \"Maybe that is bad enough. Maybe I just put it out of mind and now it's bubbling up... but still... something feels off.\"\n\nI pulled back her chair and lifted her up. \"Tell ya what, I'm home and tired, and you look more tired than I fee. Why don't we go to bed, and if you're still feeling out of sorts when we wake up, we'll look online for a therapist?\"\n\nShe nodded as she nuzzled her head into my shoulder. \"Sounds good babe.\" By the time we got upstairs she was already asleep. I laid her down into bed and got in with her after stripping off my jumpsuit. \n\nAfter falling asleep, I dreamed about the day of Beth's funeral. All the dark eyes glaring at me, knowing what everyone was thinking, but didn't have the heart to say. The clear blue sky and warm sunlight as the dirt was shoveled onto her coffin feeling like nature was insulting the moment by denying us the rain that movies had convinced me should be there. The guy in the lab coat approaching me and saying he could bring her back to me, after a fashion, if I'd work for him with complete loyalty.\n\nThe smell of eggs woke me in the afternoon. I went into the kitchen and saw her smile at me as she stirred the pan. \n\nYeah, I could work for other guys. Guys that could pay me way more money than Doctor Mortal could ever afford. Guys that would succeed at the kind of schemes he'd never have the balls to try. Guys that would even groom me to take up a spot in their organization as villain like them. The thing was, none of those guys could give me that smile, and those eggs."
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[WP] The bilderberg illuminati lizard race is real and controls society. All history is fictional, describe the life of its author.
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"\"Good morning minister.\" My secretary, Tim, had just entered the room.\n\n\"Good morning Tim.\" I replied, trying to conceal my tiredness. The Prime Minister had held an emergency meeting of ministers without me the previous evening, and as a result I had been unable to sleep, thinking about what they might possibly have said. \"What did the meeting find?\" I asked.\n\n\"They want to abolish the Department for Historical Affairs.\" Said Tim. Despite the bold nature of the statement, it was presented very matter-of-factly.\n\n\"Abolish it?\" My shock at the PM's suggestion was presented in a crack of my voice, leading to my question ending two octaves higher than it started.\n\n\"Abolish it. Apparently people have the right to know what's actually happened on Earth for the past few billion years.\" Explained Tim, still maintaining his composure while being faced with redundancy.\n\nA little bit of background: I was a descendant of two of the most prominent members of the Bilderberg Illuminati Lizard race, meaning that I was automatically a member of this secret group with all the power. Of course, to keep ourselves secret and to keep power over the normal people, we had to re-write history. Napoleon, Hitler, Trickle-down economics, the Who, all of it false. When the author of 'history' died in 1982 I decided that it looked like a pretty good job for me. I was in my 30s by then and had always been good at writing (I even had a few published works) but I had never been able to turn it into a job. This was perfect, and due in part to the importance of my parents I was able to secure the job. So since 1982 it was my job to control normal people's view of history, and the events that had preceded the present. It just so happened that one of these normal people became Prime Minister of the United Kingdom in 2020, and was shocked that this sort of deceit could possibly go on, so he decided to abolish the Department of History. People would know the truth and it would all be good, according to him.\n\n\"We can't let that happen! What if they find out we're responsible for other things too! We re-write history to keep us, and society, safe.\" I was shouting by this point, although I knew I was ultimately powerless to stop the decision of the Prime Minister.\n\n\"Yeah, but the PM sees the truth as more important than safety.\" Explained Tim. His sardonic tone of voice showed that he agreed with this reasoning about as much as I did.\n\n\"Fine then. I'll hand in my resignation later this morning. But first...\" I opened a filing cabinet and took out a rather heavy file, containing perhaps as much as ten thousand pages. I put it in a waste paper bin, took a lighter out of my pocket, and lit the file.\n\n\"What on Earth are you doing? Are you trying to get us killed?\" Asked Tim.\n\n\"No, that's real history. Now, even if our department is abolished, nobody will ever know the truth.\" I laughed like an evil genius, content with my master plan, as I left my department for the last time."
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Can you induce a hypnotic state using only text?
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[WP] Hypnotize the reader
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"Look here.\n\nYou are aware of your breathing. Your eyes are moving across each word. Do not look away. You picture a sky. You see the word sky and you picture it, big and blue. Continue to breath. Let your breath slow. Feel the air. See the sky. See the field it hangs over. Let your eyes pass over each word as you feel the air and walk through the field. The sky still hangs above you. You look up at it. The sun is above you, lighting the field. You feel the heat and the breeze. You walk toward the horizon. Read the words and walk towards the child on the horizon. You cannot make out the child yet. You see the word child and you see the child in the distance. Continue moving toward the child as you read on. Breath slowly. Relax your body. Walk toward the child. The child has features now. You can see hair and a blue outfit. The child looks up at you. The child is you. You speak together and hear nothing but static. Let the static build. The static gets louder as you read each word. It is all around you. You can feel the noise. You can see the words and feel the noise all around you. Empty your mind, hear the static. Take it with you. Sleep."
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[WP] You don't know if a higher power exists or not, but whenever things get really bad for you fate seems to step in, and you suspect that something or somebody has your back. To test your theory, you start pushing your luck.
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"I decided to kill myself when I was in 7th grade. \n\nPuberty hadn't gotten rid of my jiggly thighs or my protruding gut that I'd had since I was in elementary school, and it hadn't made me a single friend (much less found me a boyfriend to sloppily practice kissing with). I think middle school was a catalyst for the depression that had been lurking somewhere deep in my brain, waiting to pull a dark curtain across my thoughts. \n\nI planned my attack carefully. My Google history was filled with dark but hilariously juvenile searches -- \"Can u overdose on ibuprophin\", \"How to shoot a gun\", stuff like that. I eventually decide on filching my older sister's bottle of sleeping pills. \n\nMy plan went flawlessly -- I waited for her to come back from her semi-monthly doctor's appointment and watched her put her Walgreens paper bag in her dresser drawer. After she had fallen asleep that night (with the help of one of those big white pills), I carefully removed the orange bottle from the bag without so much as a crinkling sound. Then I darted away to my room with a glass of water, the predetermined scene of the crime. \n\nNeedless to say, I lived. Those sleeping pills were duds. A mixup at the pharmacy left me -- or rather, my sister -- with a bottle full of sugar pills. A new pharmacist had just been hired at our local Walgreens and apparently was fired within the week. I explained away the empty pill bottle by claiming I had seem my sister sleepwalk and flush them all down the toilet, but didn't know what to do. It made even more sense after the pharmacist was revealed. One of the reasons she had started taking those pills was because of her chronic problems with sleepwalking. \n\nThis was only the first of events where my life was seemingly spared by some interfering force. That first time, I cursed its involvement in my suicide attempt, but I grew to appreciate it. Every time my friends (yes, I eventually made friends) got food poisoning, I was miraculously spared. A premonition at a traffic light saved my 2000 Subaru Impreza from becoming a 2000 Subaru unrecognizable lump. Once, our carbon monoxide detector went off when I had went outside to check on a meowing around the back of the building. I'd never seen a cat in our neighborhood before that. \n\nI mentioned my weird luck to my boyfriend last Tuesday. He laughed. \n\n\"You don't... actually believe you have like, a guardian angel or some shit like that, do you? It's coincidence, babe. Coincidence.\"\n\nI shook my head. \"I know. I know it's silly, but I feel... I don't know. It always feel like fate is twisting around, bending over backwards for me.\" I could tell that John was holding his breath, stifling a chuckle. \n\n\"So prove it,\" he said. \n\n\"What?\" \n\n\"Prove that you're invincible or whatever. Do something crazy -- see if it protects you.\" \n\n\"What? You are insane! You want me to hurt myself?\" \n\nJohn frowned. \"No,\" he said, \"But I am afraid you'll hurt yourself even more if you keep believing this bullshit.\" \n\nI was taken aback at his harshness, but I guess I understood. He thought I might be crazy, and for good reason. Would you date someone who believed an unseen force was protecting her from harm?\n\nSo we decided to test my theory -- together. I admit, John seemed a bit more excited than necessary about this, especially because of what we decided on as a test. \n\nJohn was going to stab me in the thigh. \n\n--\n\n\"Ready?\" he said, holding a small paring knife nervously in his left hand.\n\n\"Y-yeah,\" I stuttered. My voice caught in my throat. There was a cold feeling in the pit of my stomach. Shouldn't we have picked somewhere farther from a big vein? But then would it have been dangerous enough to prove my point? I should tell John not to use the white towels, red towels would be much more-- \n\nBlood blossomed on my thigh. John stared at his hand which had buried the knife in my leg up to the handle. \n\n\"I guess you were wrong,\" he said. Then he stabbed me again, and again, and again. Warm blood rushed over me. I passed out when I saw the paring knife coming towards my left eye. \n\n--\n\nI woke up in the hospital two weeks later, according to my sister, who had sat by my bed since the moment they brought me in. My apartment neighbors had noticed that my bathroom window was broken and called the police. Apparently the elementary school boys down the street had hit a baseball straight into my bathtub, which was still filled with shattered glass when I got home from the hospital. \n\nJohn was trying to yank the knife from my eye when the police arrived, and he had ran at them madly, covered in blood, waving the gooey paring knife. John was dead. My left eye was going to make a full recovery. I plan on playing baseball with those boys down the street as soon as I can remove this eye patch and recover my depth perception. \n\nOh, and my window, of course, is covered by my cheap insurance. Completely. Even though it was made of plexiglass, which usually doesn't get broken by something silly like a baseball. ",
"I held my breath as I clutched the wall behind me. My hands were covered in sweat, but so was the rest of me and there wasn't much I could do about it.\n\nI was peering over the edge of the 35th floor of the highest building I could find. I had wanted to try this from the roof, but the last 5 floors were closed for maintenance and this was the best I could do. A little minor property damage to the windows and I found myself here. Outside.\n\nI looked down, and gulped. Cars passed below me like bugs- if I weren't so scared it would have been a nice view. \n\nI had decided that today was the day I would finally test my luck, officially. All my life something hadn't been quite right. A lucky fall here, a miraculous save there. It was like I had started the game of living with a suit of armor, +10 protection. \n\nI had noticed it getting more severe in the recent months. Yeah, when I was a kid I hadn't gotten hit by that car. But I still broke my arm falling off my bike to avoid it, and I had shredded my leg on the pavement. \n\nNow, I wasn't sure how long it had been since I'd even seen my own blood. My coworker had gone to pass me a stack of papers last month which looked particularly paper-cutty, and before I could take them they had spontaneously burst into flame. \n\nI was desperate for answers.\n\nA crowd was beginning to form on the pavement below me. My mouth was dry but I would not be talked down from my ledge. I had to test my theory. \n\nMy experiments so far had resulted in pretty much what I expected- nothing at all, thanks to a series of truly bizarre events. \n\nI had started off slow. I tried to drop a plate on my foot. Curiously, a draft of air had blown through my house at the exact instant it was about to hit my foot. Fifteen times in a row. I spent several hours cleaning shards off of the floor, but my foot remained untouched. \n\nNext I had tried to cut myself. Fascinating how all of my knives were suddenly dull when they had easily cut through food not an hour before. \n\nThen I had a thought- maybe I couldn't harm myself. Maybe someone else had to do it. So I got hammered, went to a club, and started a fight with the bouncer. Despite my utter lack of fighting experience, each of my punches landed solidly while his went swinging wildly. They were so off the mark, in fact, that he actually hit his fellow bouncer and began a new fight. The ensuing brawl was so distracting that I couldn't have been noticed walking away if I wanted to. \n\nI tried a myriad of things after that, each more drastic than the last. Wearing red and blue bandanas in the wrong neighborhoods at night- the gangs just made up with one another and formed a new alliance. Pulling a water gun on a police officer- he was off duty and had just come from dropping his niece off at the pool. We had a water gun fight. Waiting for a train on the tracks- it had unexpected mechanical issues and the engineers stopped it. A press release was held during which they announced that if the train had gone even a little further it would have blown up. \n\nSo this was it. My experiments were exhausted. My final test was nearly a guaranteed suicide. Below me, a mechanical voice rang out. It floated up through the air and reached me like a whisper. \n\n\"You don't have to do this! You don't have to jump!\" \n\nAnd I thought to myself, *yes, I do.*",
"\"Alright Big Guy, let's do this.\" I leapt from the roof of the school, eerily aware of how easily this could go wrong. I had, of course, faith in the big guy upstairs, or whoever was helping me out. To be honest I never really gave it much thought until recently. I'd always think, *'Huh, that's neat,'* whenever luck went my way. Bad situations just turned out right.\n\nIt wasn't until three muggers tried gutting me like a fish that I realized something might be up. I mean, what's the chance of him missing me *and* stabbing his two buddies? On my way back home I had started to think about it and the rest of my life, and how these situations weren't actually that unusual for me. \n\nSo what led me to suicide, you might ask? Well, first I'm going to have to correct you: this isn't your typical suicide.\n\n After my event with the three stooges, I had become painfully aware of how easy it was for me to *not die*. I recalled third grade and how Sarah's flying pair of scissors narrowly missed me and instead crash-landed in Mrs. Tebach's wig. Or how I flipped over on my bike, only to land in a conveniently placed pile of mattresses on my neighbor's lawn; unfortunately the bike went right into poor old Bobby's head. My strange luck had gotten me out of terrible misfortunes. Realizing that, I had begun to think that maybe someone or *something* has my back. \n\nSo yeah, I decided to push my luck. \n\nI looked below me, at the sea of horrified students and teachers alike. I had climbed and jumped off the tallest building on campus, giving my personal angel enough time to step in. I think I have about 3~ish seconds before I hit the ground. Any time now... \n\nJust then I felt it. \n\nThe clouds parted above me. I could feel time slow down...\n\nEverything stopped. \n\nThen I heard an eruption of sound, coming from the sky:\n\n**GODDAMMIT YA LITTLE SHIET! DO YA KNOW HOW MUCH I'VE BUSTED ME ARSE TRYIN' TA KEEP YUH ALIVE?! I'VE HAD ENOUGH. FROM NOW ON YER ON YER OWN. SO LONG, FUCKFACE.**\n\n\n\n\n",
"\"Okay this is seriously it mate. I'm 99.99% sure you're real. \n\nIt all started in a 6th grade math test where I haven't learned anything, I found a completed test with all the questions done under my desk. I thought at the time I was the luckiest motherfucker alive. But that's nowhere near where it ends.\n\nYear after that I picked a fight with one of the schools toughest motherfuckers and as he and ten other guys started chasing me a fucking brick fell on his head, his mates stopped to help him and I got away scot free.\n\nFucking not even two months later after he got out of the hospital the same guy finds me and a brick fell on his head again. Needless to say he thought I had magical powers and never attempted to fuck with me again.\n\nAt 14 I started really fucking up school, and I almost completely failed, when the teacher accidentally switched all my results with someone and I was student of the year. The person who she changed it with appears to be a student who was 15 and those were his last years results so nobody complained.\n\nWhen I was 16 I accidentally started a fire in my house while attempting to light a joint for the first time. Needless to say it started raining and wind blew the rain through my window and it put out my carpet from fire. That can't be coincidence right?\n\nWhen I was 18 the same thing with middle school happened with high school and I was picked as the student of the generation, not only that but I was drafted into a college basketball team. Needless to say I didn't even play basketball when in high school.\n\nJust a few days later I accidentally found a pair of Jordans and a basketball in grass in the playground I was. Fucking I was gonna sell them but I took it as a sign to practice ball. I was a fucking god basically, I don't know how or why.\n\nStanding at only 6'1 I was drafted into the NBA my first year into college as the 6th draft. I got an injury but as I was being carried to the hospital I accidentally fell out of my wheelchair and set my bone back into place.\n\nNow I'm standing here, on top of this building. Talking to you. I know you know all of this, I know you're the one responsible for all of this, but I must be a 100% percent sure. \"\n\nJames climbed on the edge of the building, put his hands out wide, and jumped, falling to his death. \n\n"
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[WP] One gun. One bullet. That's all I need.
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"I was alone, truly alone. All around me, scorched land devastated by the beautiful yet destructive mushroom clouds. A pile of rubble here and there, a tattered piece of cloth, and a shattered picture. All around me, I could see the remnants of my past live, broken by the gleaming warheads of countries long forgotten. Everywhere I looked, I remember bits and fragments of my childhood. A broken down WalMart sign reminded my of when me and my parents used to go to buy groceries, an advertisement for a local sports academy prompted memories of hours and hours of spending hours in the sun playing sports. I long for the day when I can finally reunite with all the people from the past. One gun, one bullet. That's all I need.\n ",
"I nodded grimly. I understood. He showed his hand, and the single tiny bullet held in it. I nodded. \"Are you sure?\" he asked. All I could respond with was a quick twitch of my head. He frowned. \"Good Luck\" he called As I walked away. \"You're going to need it!\" He concluded.\n\nMany thoughts raced through my mind. The snow crunching under my boots. \"What were you thinking when you asked for one bullet?\" I thought. Now that I looked back on what I had done it seemed stupid taking into consideration the enormity of the task. The street was deserted, I looked around, not taking any chances. I saw no one. I sighed. I opened my hand, in it, was the bullet, I slipped it into my pocket. I wasn't going to need it for a while.\n\nI looked around again. The war had crippled our country. Shops were closed, prices were rising, and half the country was starving. And my job, a simple 3 words. \"End the war\"...\n\nI reached for my pocket and pulled my phone out. A was lucky to have one. considering that 90% of the world had one, yet in our country only 15% of people had one. If i hadn't been provided with one, I wouldn't have been able to afford one. I quickly called a Taxi, and asked to be dropped off at the airport. I arrived swiftly, and immediately booked a flight to Shanghai, this wasn't my destination. But I couldn't afford to be followed, not with this task. I did this 10 times with a destinations all over the world. Keeping an eye out for any common faces. As soon as I was happy that I wasn't being followed. I booked a flight for my final destination. Beijing.\n\nI arrived at 13:54 Local Time, on the 19th of January 2026. I walked a while. in circles, and choosing random streets. I did this for at least 3 hours. I was both making sure I wasn't being followed and to see the area. Beijing seemed to have been untouched by the war and the citizens seemed to be unaware of the pain that the leader of their country was causing. I felt angry, I saw a kid throw a half eaten sandwich into the bin, these people were so ignorant of the hardships endured by other people to support this reckless and self-centered behavior.\n\nI reminded myself to focus on the task that lay ahead of me. I knew what I had to do. I had to kill the oil-tycoon, who effectively controlled government. He had caused this war, as he knew that it would gain him lots of money. He had invested so much into this war, that he had become determined to finish it, and collect his gains. I had chosen him, as I knew, from a source, that the Chinese government was reluctant to contradict him, as he held most of the countries debt. And he had made his position clear on what would happen if they disobeyed. If he were to die, and his son (Inheritor) took over, he would most likely end this war as he was a calm and gentle boy.\n\nBut before I could kill him, I needed to wait for the right time. I had already chosen. The Chinese independence day was in a 2 days. And he would surely make a public appearance. And not only that, but I knew the blind spot from his guards. Thanks to my source, I knew the positioning of all the guards of his appearance. i knew that there was a high building, about a kilometer off, that would just be able to see him. And luckily, the sniper I was provided was perfectly able walked to the housing provided by my government. I would take the days to scout out the building I would shoot from. The next day, I walked around slowly, taking in the scenery. I walked to the building i would shoot from. The days before had passed like a blur. As I woke that morning, I bolted straight up, I glanced outside, it was still dark, ts.hat was perfect, I would not be spotted. I checked my phone. It was 5 in the morning. He made his speech at 8. I had roughly 3 hours. I made my way towards the building, with only my backpack. I arrived half an hour later, I glanced around. And I saw a face staring at me. He saw me and quickly walked away. I could not be sure if he was in fact looking at me, but I wasn't taking any risks. I ran briskly towards him. He ran away quickly. I set off in pursuit. This would waste valuable time. but It was necessary.\n\nI followed him round a corner, but when I turned by him, he was holding a gun. And he said calmly \"Stop\". I knew I couldn't so I lunged at him. He shot at me. But he missed. He knew what was about to happen. His eyes betrayed his fear, as my knife went into his abdomen. I heard footsteps behind me, and I saw 2 men behind me. Both holding short, silenced pistols. I knew my only option was to run, I turned a corner into a small alleyway. I heard the shots connecting with a wooden crates. I ran off. I sprinted off and dived into an alleyway. My attackers were confused and could not see me. I had the upper hand. But it wouldn't last long. I walked off keeping my head down. I walked about 500 meters before I heard the voices shouting. I broke off into a quick jog. Which quickly materialized into a run. I had to reach the building. I reached the building at 6:30. I sighed. 1 hour and a half wasted. I had given myself extra time, just in case. I had memorized the blueprints of the skyscraper. I walked around and found what I was looking for. The service staircase. This was never used. I looked up. 54 floors worth of staircases, that was a challenge in itself. I started running, but 10 floors up, it was becoming unbearable. I decided I would walk 10, then jog 10. It took me over half an hour to climb up onto the roof. I had an hour to set up. I pulled my gun out. It was fold-able, and I took it out. and I set it up. I then spent an hour making sure I was hidden, and before I knew it, my phone buzzed with the alert. I had 10 minutes left. I glanced down the stairs, and to my horror. I heard men panting as they ran up. I quickly calculated I had about 20 minutes before they got to me.\n\nAs the celebration started I knew I had no time. I aimed down the sight, I could see the business man. I could hear the steps, closer and closer. I took aim, I had a clear shot. One gun. One bullet. that's all I need. I squeezed the trigger and to my relief, the businessman collapsed. I watched with my binoculars, it was a clean kill, his head was clearly hit. I knew he wouldn't live to see another day. I turned round. I could hear the panting close. They were only a minute away. I knew I had no chance of escape. I threw the gun off the building, along with my phone, and all my passports and all identification methods. I turned round to face the door. It slammed open, and the men streamed out. \"Hands on your head!\" they shouted. I slowly lifted them up. \n "
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[WP] You stumble across a pikachu while playing Pokemon Go. When you manage to get it in the Pokeball, the game glitches out. Reboot it to find that you didn't catch it. You walk away but suddenly you hear a rustling in the bushes where you came from.
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"I stare in disbelief at my Galaxy. \"What is with this game?\" I think to myself. As I hear rustling in the bushes behind me, I turn back around with every expectation to see a squirrel scamper out as has happened countless times before. There was no squirrel in sight, and the rustling began to quiet, almost as if something were trying to hide. I take a few steps forward out of pure curiosity, wondering to myself whether there is a feral cat or other small creature that will jump out at any moment.\n\nSuddenly, to my amazement and utter surprise, I hear a soft \"Pika\" from the bushes. I shook my head, looked up the sky emitting the over hundred degree heat index down upon me. \n\n\"I have got to stop playing this in the heat, I am going crazy,\" I whisper as I turn around and start to head back up the path. The rustling starts again and this time I swear I can hear some sort of footprints. I turn around again and can see yellow fur through the branches. \"Just a cat,\" I tell myself as I start to take a few steps slowly backwards.\n\n\"Pika!\" yells the small, yellow mouse-like creature that pushed through the bush. I'm frozen in this abject terror and fascination. Am I having a heat stroke and hallucinating this creature before me. Has my favorite Pokemon actually materialized out of my cell phone into the world around me? Out of what feels like habit, I reach into my knapsack and grab one of my son's toy pokeballs and throw it at the creature. It hits the Pikachu in the stomach, opens up and engulfs the small yellow body into oblivion. Once dropped to the ground, it rocks back and forth three times before throwing yellow stars and blue streaks around itself.\n\n\"Uhmm... what do I do now?\" I saw aloud, looking around in hopes that someone will appear with the answer. \n\n\"Honey, are you okay? Wake up,\" my husband is softly shaking me. I open my eyes and realize that I am in my bed, in the middle of the night, and had only been dreaming. I sat up and picked my phone up from the night table and opened up PokemonGo.\n\nA Pikachu was spawned right there..."
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[WP] You live in a society where at age 18 everyone is sent to live off the grid untill they are 28.
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"I walked through the forest. The beautiful greens and browns of the trees enveloped me mas I moved deeper into the Northwest Crucible. Crucibles to contain the heat of youth, but what were we forging? \n\nI had said my goodbyes, but no one knew exactly where I was going. I see movement; I am prepared. Strung bow already in hand, the arrow looses, and it feels beautiful. I will come bearing gifts to the tribe. I hope food will lessen that first impact, the newness of me. An outsider with a rabbit is better than one with nothing. \n\n__\n\nSwirling rapids below now as I cross a rope bridge, swaying dangerously. You're never tested like this in the city. Will they accept me? I needed people, I can't be alone all these years. Will they understand? Some must see their time approaching and feel the same. I had to come here, I couldn't see another option. River raging below, I felt alive.\n\n__\n\nThe wooden gate was more bar to me than any hardship of the forest; that was always the way of it with me. Why I came here, why I am afraid. Guards studying me. They know, they remember, and they let me in. I gather a crowd as I make my way to Leader.\n\n“How dare you? You break every rule of arrival and think a rabbit buys forgiveness? We have better hunters than you.” He didn't understand; Leader had been here 9 years now and he would soon enough.\n\n“Don't you get it? Don't you all see what is waiting for you? You go back, and they put you behind a desk. A desk, for nine hours every day and you can't feel what you should, what you do everyday here. The rest chuckle and say 'barely made it out alive' but I see their sadness, I see the lie of it. These ten years were my life; the rest a wasting sickness.” I reached some in the crowd, but a pretty speech, no matter how true, never changes what you hope it will.\n\n“You have to remember, every year we get some like you, and you know how this goes. I've already sent the report, they'll be here to retrieve you soon. Why even try? It's honestly sad, trying to recapture it.” Let's see you say it in a year, Leader. Let's see you repeat it then. I barely heard him as I slumped down, resigned to my fate. “You are twenty-nine years old; I think it's time you grew up.”\n\n"
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This is weird. Somehow a conversation led to this last night.
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[WP] Medical science has evolved to create a more humane way to keep people on life support for long periods of time. A computer generated life story is put into their brain, allowing them to live a full life in their head. You are a virus in the system.
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"My name is Mitchell. I have no last name; not now anyway. Used to be Brown. Not me my name. I was Mitchell Brown. \nA man, sort of. I mean for a time. You need to think in bigger pictures. \nThe brain contains many pieces, as they are sure to tell you. The body is more other life than what you would be... \nWho are you becomes a riddle of contradictions and uncomfortable lies and a man is not a man when his reality is a house of cards in a hurricane? \n\nLet's talk of Mitchell Brown. It was a Saturday, he was fond of this day more than others because it was on this day he was free. Free from work. He would sit in the park and feed the ducks. \n\n__Elizabeth? Don't resist__ \n\nThe ducks would eat his bread and he would feel some contention with life. Mitchell was 51 when his heart suffered that most fatal a flaw of stopping. \nIn the hospital, which Mitchell was not too know was a machine. He'd heard of it, ARC, like Noah's arc... and like that arc a fiction. \nSurvive your own mortality in a suspended reality. Mitchell Fed the ducks. He met a girl and then one day... \n\n**I'm trying to help you** \n\nHer eyes had been green, or were they brown. Why didn't he know? \nHe knew her name it was Sarah, Sarah Atwood and her mothers maiden name... The mysteries stacked. He'd ask Sarah and she'd tell him. The mysterious end, but once told he felt like it never occurred. Her eyes would fade and he'd remember they were blue. \n\nThis is what Mitchell was told. The world never changed, he never aged and the music began to blur. One day Mitchell didn't know his own eyes. You see the mind is threads and strands. The brain is many ideas of many sources and can't be quantified so easy. There is a limit on how long Mitchell should have been kept alive, but no one was there to kill him. \nThe reality of the ARC began to decay and it became obvious... \nExistence is a lie. \n\nThey 'woke me up' Liz, tried to tell me I'm me again. tried their lies once again. I met the 'actor' who played Sarah, Gene was her name. I tied her up and drowned her. I murdered the kids she had with Derek. I am not Mitchell. No one is. I am nothing. \n\nI'm trying to save you Liz. \n\nIf you want me to untie you, if you want to leave this 'warehouse'... you are going to have to learn. This is all a dream. ",
"James Samuel was not someone a normal person would call \"a good man\". The head of a small, organized crime ring, he's participated in more than his fair share of violence and debauchery. All of his efforts, to be one of the most powerful men in the underbelly of society, led him to his current state – comatose for several months in a private hospital room. The result of a firefight with one of his many rivals.\n\nAt the very least, medical science had evolved to create a humane way to support patients on long-term life support, by allowing them to live full, fulfilling lives within the confines of their imagination. In his mind, he continues to rule the criminal world with an iron fist, but that doesn’t quite sit well with the many enemies of James Samuel.\n\nIn the real world, two men are standing next to James’ comatose body. One keeps watch in the hallways, while the other inserts a USB flash drive into the medical support systems that drive James’ dreams. A light on the USB flashes red, indicating that the operation has started.\n\nThe process injects me into ‘his’ world, and it initializes itself before me. I’m in the alleyways of modern day San Francisco, just before the onset of winter. \n\nFirst things first: time to see how much I can do here. Joining the crowds on the sidewalks, I ‘accidently’ bump into this smoking hot blonde, wearing a large fur coat. The coat slowly dissolves into tiny black grains of sand, leaving the lady in nothing but a skimpy black dress and high heels. The simulation doesn’t account for the discrepancy and she continues to walk down the street without a care in the world. Maybe I should do the same with the dress? But unfortunately, I had other things to do.\n\nThe ground began shaking violently as I placed my hand on the sidewalk. And with a giant crash, the ground before me extrudes high into the air, forming a tall, earthen wall that divided Sunset Blvd into two. Clumps of dirt fell and bounced between the various, rocky outcroppings. But with a single step, the wall sunk back into the ground, disappearing as quickly and as loudly as it appeared. Seems like all my capabilities are accounted for. Time to get to work.\n\nAt the Golden Gate Park, I found James strolling along in the company of a beautiful redhead. She was a perfect distraction as I summoned an earthen cage around James. The sudden protrusion knocks James’ companion several feet away, knocking her unconscious. Alone in his cell, James began pushing against the walls in frustration, unable to comprehend his current situation. \n\nI dissolved a small section of wall, allowing him to see his captor. \n\n“James Samuel.” \n\n“Who the hell are you!?” demanded James, as he banged his palms against the walls of his cell. \n\n“Just passing a message along. You’ve made many enemies you know—“.\n\nGunshots echo throughout the park. Smoke emanates from the small cell window, trailing from the barrel of a .45 revolver within. The bullets pass harmlessly through me, and crash into the stone tile behind me. Those who heard the shot looked around momentarily, but eventually returned back to their routine. \n\nI couldn’t help but smirk, “Yeah, that’s not going to work James…” \n\n“What do you want from me!?” James continued his demands, delusional that he still commanded any sort of power. \n\n“I want you... to hear what I have to say.” \n\nJames could do nothing but listen in frustration. \n\n“You’ve made many enemies you know. The bad news is, you’ve been in a coma the last few months. But at least the docs have found a way to make your coma a little bit more… accommodating”\n\nJames’s aggression falters slightly under the realization that his world was just a fabrication. He only needed to see the stone walls before him for evidence that everything I said rang true.\n\nI let him stew for a moment to contemplate his position, but I had to continue the message.\n\n“But I’m afraid to say, that a comfortable life just doesn’t sit well with the people you’ve wronged.”\n\nIt took a few seconds for James to comprehend the gravity of the situation. “Wh-what do you mean?” \n\n“You’ll see.”\n\nAnd with a stomp of a foot, James’ cell plummeted several thousand feet into the ground. The earth above the cell collapses, filling in the hole created by the dive. I could sense James yelling in confusion, deep underground. Up above, the simulation continued on as normal, commanding virtual lives to go about their virtual business, completely unaware of the prisoner within the crust.\n\nAnd with that, I sent the signal.\n\nIn the real world, the USB light lit a steady green. The guy watching the halls indicates that the coast is clear while the other pulls the USB drive from the machine. They don’t even look back as they leave; the once peaceful face of James Samuel now displaying hints of agony and fear.\n"
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[WP] All your life people have commented on the relationship you have with your identical twin, and now it's starting to get difficult hiding the fact that you're really just one person, living in two bodies.
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"\"Yeah we get that a lot.\" James tells the shopkeeper. \"How much do we owe ya?\"\n\n\"Total is 76.84\" He replies. \n\nI reach into my pocket then I remembered it was James who had the money today. I try to play it off cool, just put both hands in pockets and try to play it off like I wasn't reachin' for nothin'. James pays and we both walk out of the store. I get paranoid about every little detail. There was no way he picked up on it, but I knew I couldn't get sloppy like that.\n\nMe and Jack get in the truck and head on over to our friend Ringo's place. From there, me , James, and our Ringo take the ATV's out to our usual hunting grounds. \n\nNow it is at this point where I should remind you there is only one living person left who knows about me and Jack's secret, and that is James. Maw knew and she, bless her heart, died of natural causes. Paw found out when we was ten, but he thought us freaks as soon as he found out and tried to kill us. Maw didn't let that happen.\n\nNow here is where our story gets interestin', Jack, Ringo and I were out in the woods, small game this time, Huntin' beavers by the creek. The three of us had developed a strategy whereby we would split up, find good hiding spots and wait. Being separated, when the beavers took off after one of us shot, they would be easy pickings for the rest of us. Now bear in mind, we developed this plan about 10 minutes before we got to the pond so needless to say, we were already experts.\n\nJack sets up in a hiding spot right where we find the lake and me and Ringo start walking down to the southern part of the lake so we could get to the other side.\n\n\"So James, I got this here beaver call earlier today\" Ringo says to me as he pulls some kind of whistle looking thing out of his pack \"Supposed bring them out of hiding.\"\n\n\"Oh\" I says back to him, taking it from his hand \"How well does it work?\" So I try it out and it sure does sound like a beaver. As a reaction, Jack turns his gun and looks for it, but my hiding spot was quite precarious and I slipped into the lake. James and Ringo see water splashing on the other side of the lake, Ringo takes his gun and says \"See I told you it would work\" Without thinkin' or even really lookin' at what he is aiming at, Ringo fires a shot down range.\n\nWow, Okay so that is what getting shot feels like. The bullet went right through my leg, I scream out in pain. \n\nRingo looks at me and says \"What happened, snake in your boot?\"\n\nI scream at him \"Did you even look at where you were shootin'? I am hit dammit!\"\n\nRingo pulls the hand away from my leg and replies \"The hell you talkin' about you ain't bleedin?\"\n\nThat is when I come to my senses and realized, James wasn't hit, Jack was, and I was screaming in pain with both of them. \n\nThis might get complicated."
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[WP] Everyone is born with the ability to make one wish. When people ask what you wished for, you say you haven't used it yet, but the truth is you're too embarrassed to tell them.
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"\"My parents made me use mine to get my big brother better. He had cancer. Now he's in college. They say they'll pay for mine when I graduate, but they said they'd buy me a car too and that still hasn't happened. I kinda hate my family now.\"\n\nWell fuck.\n\n\"At least you helped somebody else though?\"\n\n\"I was six, there wasn't much choice. After all, before 18 you need your parents with you at the Oracle in order to make your wish. And what am I supposed to do, let him die? Just because Dad used his wish to make Mom fall in love with him and Mom used her wish to be able to have kids and he used his wish to cure mom's cancer, I have to give up the biggest opportunity in my life to keep him alive?\"\n\n\"Okay, yeah that sucks pretty bad I guess.\"\n\n\"Plus now my chances of getting cancer are pretty high given family history, and if nobody else is willing to wish me better then I'm kinda screwed, aren't I.\"\n\n\"Fuck, dude.\"\n\n\"So yeah, that's what I used mine for. Already. Fuck. What do I do now? Work hard? That sounds awful, and it's not even guaranteed to make my life anything other than tiring. My dad works hard and comes home exhausted, but we barely get by sometimes if the plant's not doing well. Hard work is a fucking gamble at best, and you're betting with your youth and life and health. Fuck hard work.\"\n\n\"Shit.\"\n\n\"So yeah. What'd you use yours for?\"\n\n\"Oh...uh...haven't yet. Trying to figure that out still, I guess.\"\n\n\"Well good luck, man, don't waste it. Get rich or something!\"\n\n\"Heh! Yeah, maybe. We'll see. Oh, this is my bus.\"\n\nAs I get on the bus I remember back to my 18th birthday, and my solo trip to the Oracle.\n\nTruth be told, it really was an absolutely incredible sandwich, easily the best I have ever had. At least there's that.",
"You hate this shit. There should've been a law, a doctrine, a rulebook-- SOMETHING that would have saved you from yourself. You've stopped going outside, now, because you're sick of it. You're sick of smiley-ass Sandra and her fucking pet unicorn, and Larry and his luxurious wings(why couldn't you have wings?!) and Dexter, with his too-large brain crammed with all the secrets of the multiverse. You'd stopped going out after your normie college mates used up their wishes on amazing things(they were always amazing things). You began to resent them, to resent everyone-- you were a particle of dirt trapped among diamond dust, and you want nothing more than to block out the shine. But it's everywhere, because if 8 billion people wish upon a star, you're bound to see the sky turn pink at some point, or hear a woman's moan instead of your own flatulence. It was all there, all the time-- people making good, reasonable(or in the case of the latter, fetish-fueled) wishes that benefit themselves or the masses. Hell, Gandhi had brought world peace with his wish to end world hunger. \n\n Sure, people asked you why you were so goddamn *bitter* all the time. \"If you're so annoyed about our wishes, why haven't you used yours yet?\" This proved difficult to answer, as *your* answer was always a lie, but the truth was not necessarily the best answer to give, anyway. The truth was you spent your wish years ago. The truth was that if you could have one wish, it would be to erase that memory from your mind.\n\nIt started one fateful day, with a goddamn pair of shoes. You loved those shoes like your parents loved you-- they were 800$ Louis Vuitton flats, and you remember they had been shipped to you in a leather parcel. Painstaking effort had been put into that pair of shoes, and it showed. The immaculate fabric, the hand-painted design, the etching on the soles. It was clear that these shoes were more art than apparel. However, as you aimed to put them on for the first time, you stopped, realizing they were a tad too big. Like.. 4 or 5 sizes too big. Idiot you were, you tried to force the shoes onto your feet anyway, even though they only allowed 2/3 of your foot to enter them. After doing this for about twenty minutes, you said it. Those few, stupid words that forever changed the course of your life.\n\n\"I wish my feet weren't so fucking big!\"\n\nNow? Well, now, your feet are so small you have balance issues, and you look like a fucking leprechaun without shoes on. You tell people you didn't make your wish yet, and that your feet being half the size they were supposed to be was the result of a condition you contracted as a child. Oh well, at least the shoes fit now."
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