Split (1)

train · 199k rows

post_text stringlengths 0 17.5k	post_title stringlengths 8 314	comment_texts listlengths 1 74	num_stories int64 1 74
	[WP] Deathmarks are the counterpart to birthmarks and begin appearing in the final weeks and months of a person's life.	[ "I remember a fire. Nana used to sit me down by that fire and tell me all about life and death and the nature of the stuff in between. She told me about how birthmarks show how we died in a past life, and how deathmarks would be how we left this one. My birthmarks were just the death marks of the person who came before me. Every night that fire crackled and Nana cackled back, bouncing me on me knee and kissing my cheek and holding me so tight in her skinny arms. \n\nNana's first deathmark appeared right round my seventh birthday, a little splotch right on her neck. Oh lord did she try to hide it from me and everybody else, but we all saw it. One day she catches me staring at it, the next she's crying with Papa because the doctor had bad news to say. Mama wouldn't let Nana hold me no more. She say Nana's gonna go be a butterfly, or a little boy like me. And sure enough, Nana left us not two months later. \n\nThe deathmark hit my sister Meg next. Meg fell and the bruise on her white little belly never full went away, and soon afterward spread and spread like wildfire. Mama cried and cried having to bury her baby, though her belly was already swollen full up with another on the way. Right after she put Meg in the ground another baby came along. I don't know which marks meant death in this life and which marks meant death in the past. \n\nMama says she can't handle burying no more babies, cause right now it's just me and I'm eight and sick Paul and he's twelve. Sick Paul's already got the deathmarks on his chest and his belly and he's not got much time before he goes. I know well that Mama'll be sad when he goes, because then it'll be just me and her and Papa in this big old house that's gonna fall to pieces. \n\nI don't wanna tell her, but I seen a little dot on my leg that's spreading real fast. I got poked on a nail last night when I was throwing feed to the goats and I think that's what it came from. And oh I am scared. I am scared so bad Mama'll find out and then she'll have nobody but Old Papa. I'm so scared I think deathmarks are gonna start forming over my heart and my brain. \n\nIt's late now, and mama just tucked me not bed. She's got a dark line join' round her neck, I saw it when I kissed her goodnight. ", "She grimaced in agony, climbing up the beautiful, majestic hill, surrounded by a sea of destroyed hover crafts she had just recently been launched from. It was Anoko’s time, it seemed; her inevitable end. She squirmed again, grasping onto her neck like a vice, squeezing aggressively on her pulsating death mark; it was a desperate attempt to alleviate the pain that coursed throughout her entire frame. With a defiant, torturous howl; she dug her hands into the ground, entrenching her nails deeply into the deep, rich soil. With a scowl she gradually pulled herself up the hill, letting out an enraged, determined grunt; her long, spiky, near navy blue hair dragging under her and over her face.\n\nShe heard a cackle in her mind, “Oh…Anoko; so stubborn, so very defiant; til the end it seems.” The voice laughed heartily; she sneered angrily.\n\n“I don’t, need to, hear from you right now!” she growled, crying out in response to her torment as she pulled herself forward with great force.\n\n“This was part of the deal; was it not Anoko? Great power; a great price to pay?”\n\nShe frowned, “I’m not done yet!” she bemoaned, “I’m not, I’m not done,” her body shuttered, becoming weaker with each deliberate movement she made.\n\n“Hm…. I think ya are,” the voice goaded with disinterest in her fervor.\n\n“Quiet Shinigami!” she screeched; the voice simply chuckled in response.\n\nIt was her mistake; she wanted to be strong, she wanted to make the Force of the Light pay for purging her town. The unclean is what they called people like her, and those of her home; humans who had rejected the notion of partaking in genetic engineering, making them a minority in most provinces; for that they paid the greatest price a life form could; extermination. Anoko was the last of those people from that humble, harmless place; the town of Granduer; saved only by bits of rubble that hid her well enough to prevent her execution; next to the limp, lifeless hand of her dear mother, where she stayed in shocked terror for two days.\n\nThat’s when he came; the Shinigami, an entity named Kogo Do Shinae. He was a terrifying sight to see as she climbed from her woeful hiding spot; a creature of a pitch black make up, piercing orange eyes, the snout of a dragon, and the sharpest toothed sinister smile she had ever seen. He enjoyed seeing the suffering plastered on her expression, but even more than that, he enjoyed the concept of a vengeful spirit. With that he made her a promise; he would bestow upon her his abilities; the strength and power to seek revenge against the Force of the Light; an offer that she accepted with no reluctance in her statur\n\nThere was an exception; she felt it as soon as she agreed, and the force of him entered her comparatively frail body; a strange sensation that felt like fire and ice seared into the back of her neck\n\n“Your death mark,” he grinned, “You belong to me Anoko; do me proud, kill them all.”\n\nShe didn’t need to be told such a thing; it was all that she lived for now, and so she did as he said. With her great power she obliterated entire units of armed and dangerous warriors, taking no damage from their attacks; a sinister, consolidated dark aura protected her person instinctively. She would rip them apart with the aura; her new found powers, taking great enjoyment of it. For two years she did this, eventually proving herself a great enough threat to the entirety of the Force of the Light, that they took drastic action; an all out coordinated campaign against Anoko, who they called The Devil Woman of North Province. Unsurprisingly, no matter how great the force, they were no match for her. She poured out everything that was within her to destroy them all; an army of well over a hundred thousand fighters; her last act, taking out over 57 well armed hover crafts in one fell, powerful swoop.", "Two years, five months, six days. Two years… five months… six days of waiting, waiting for it all to end. Anyone else would hear these words and feel as though they are blessed. Myself, I am trapped.\r\n\r\nI can’t even recall how I felt the day the mark first appeared, I can’t remember what I was even thinking. Shock must have had hold of me because my only priority was to keep it hidden. It was difficult at first to avoid questions from friends and family, but practice makes perfect and it became natural after a few weeks. Then a few months passed and I was still just waiting.\r\n\r\nTwo years, five months, six days. The longest living person ever marked for death, and today is the day I will finally die. I’m having difficulty focusing now, it won’t be long. Not the bravest of most flashy way to go but a bottle Nembutal gets the job done just as well. The lying and waiting is finally over.\r\n\r\nI can rest now.\r\n", "My deathmark appeared down an entire side of my body, the left side. It started out just on the hip but expanded deep between my epidermis and across every limb on the left side; it was crawling towards my fingers now like a bottle of ink across paper. Deathmarks like these usally indicated some sort of bloddy accident. Men with heart attacks or women with strokes have a scar just across the heart- they were easy to distill. This was a new one. Nothing had been this bloody since the second world war, and that was the last this deathmark was seen.\n\nAs the days went on and the ink flowed deep into my hands and across my chest, I realized it was stopping at a halfway point, and leaving my face alone. It only spread up the collar bone- walking on the street, a few other men had the same textbook death mark but there was no hint as to why. Until the Chancellor announced war was to come, and that we were going to slaughter those jungle swine." ]	4
	[WP] two hundred years in the future, human evolution has stagnated. However, due to our and advances (and our meddling) several other of earth's fauna have started to catch up.	[ "News Flash: Government gives a green to the primates for manual labour. Cities to adopt law ASAP. \n\nWith opposable thumbs and almost near-to-hipster intelligence, the chimps have proven useful in civil works. Although the head ape has yet to thumb the contract, many of the refugee mammals have already taken over managing the construction works. \nTheir need for release favors our ineptness at diligence. \n\nNews Flash: Dolphins to finally open up the Atlantic for tours. Orcas furious. \n\nThe Dolpha, president and representative for the dolphins' union have finally given in to the human urges of visiting the heritage. Instead of the full 3D tour that you could have visited at sonarmagic.com, you can book tickets at the same for only a slight peak in prices. \nOrcas however have stopped feeding on their daily planktons. One of them suggested it was 'humiliating' of dolphins to use them for restoration and not give a cut of the profits." ]	1
	[WP] An astronaut dies on board the ISS. Not everyone is convinced it was an accident.	[ "\"John... Jooohn..?? John!\" his mother shouted as he had another one of his moments. 2 weeks, 2 weeks and 3 days since his brother, Danial had passed away. He never expected this to happen, he always thought that since he was 7 years older he'd be the one to die first, and therefore spare himself of going through anything like this, \"JOHN?!\", his mother continued, so she could to make him answer, and stop daydreaming in the bathroom. To her surprise, however, he just looked at her and with the calmest voice ever said \"Yes mum?\"\n\"It's time, the ceremony is about to start\" After a brief 10-second silence, he unlocked the door of that bathroom and with tears in his eyes he managed to smile at how pathetic all of this was. This is a ceremony for Danis clothes, but not the person Dani, the one whom he loved so much, his best friend. How can NASA not find a human body within the ISS??, he thought, doesn't make any fucking sense. This was something that he has been expressing for everyone the past 2 weeks. Just before they entered the main room he mumbled \"let's just get this over with\n\nLater that evening, Katrine, his mother who decided to stay over at his house got a call, but it wasn't for her, but for John. \"John! You got your friend Abdul asking for you!\"\n\n\nAbdul? Who's Abdul? He thought as he picked up the phone\n\nJ: \"Hello?\"\n\nA: \"John, meet me at 14th Adams Ave. now.\"\n\nJ: \"Who is this?\" \n\nA: \"Yo, you wanna know the truth or not?\"\n\nJ:\"The truth? About what?\"\n\nA:\"Meet me and I'll explain\"\n\nThe person hung up. John stood there, as confused as ever thinking if he should go to Adams Ave. or not. It's soon midnight, the only people there should be people queuing up to get into the club. His curiosity got to him. He quickly got his tracksuit on and got ready. \"Adams Ave. is only 10 minutes by bike, that should be fairly quick, nothing dangerous or so, even if it's this late.\" he thought nervously as he went out. Not a single word from his mother, who was just happy that he's finally out with a friend. \"I guess I'll drink myself to sleep alone\" she mumbled to herself.\n\nAs John took his bike, he knew exactly the way there and arrived at Adams Ave. Nothing unusual, the predicted club queue was there, and some drunk people shouting cheerfully about how happy they are. Good old Adams Ave. As time passed by, he remembered that he'd had to go to 14th Adams Ave., which is another 2 minutes from Adams Ave. When John was finally there, briefly sweaty after that rough bike-session. John looks around and finds no one, until a door from the building in front of him opens and he hears Abdul's voice go \"We've been expecting you John.\"\n\n\n2 upvotes and I'll write a part 2.\n\nNote: I know that I took the long route, where I didn't actually get to the writing prompt instantly, but it's just the way I like writing, and I thoroughly enjoyed writing this piece. \n_________________________________________________________________\nNote: I know that I took the long route, where I didn't actually get to the writing prompt instantly, but it's just the way I like writing, and I thoroughly enjoyed writing this piece. \n\nPlease comment anything on my posts, as any feedback is appreciated. Didn't like \nmy choice of words? COMMENT. Liked my choice of words? COMMENT. Think I did a shit job writing it? COMMENT. Anything is appreciated as I'm trying to become better at writing, and expand my vocabulary. ", "We watched as the droplets of blood floated across the cabin, perfect crimson spheres, emanating one by one from the gash on Lubyenko's head. \n\n\"My god,\" Harris moved towards him, placing two fingers on Lubyenko's neck to gauge his pulse. He turned to us with wide eyes, \"He's dead.\" \n\nPascal let out a short gasp, clamping her hands over her mouth. \"No this, no, how could this happen? Singh, did you see anything?\" \n\nI shook my head, looking to the bulkhead above us, a red stain had appeared on the usually pristine white surface. \n\"He must have just not noticed.\" \n\nWe floated there in silence for a few minutes, our minds and hearts racing. Outside the porthole the Earth glowed against the endless blackness, somebody has to tell his family.\n\nGlenn was on the comms when we returned to the command module, the NASA guys on one screen, the Russians on the other. \"We're still trying to piece together what happened sir, nobody else was in the module when the incident occurred. Singh found Cosmonaut Lubyenko's body on his way to the exercise module.\" \n\n\"Nyet, I don't believe it,\" the Russian flight controller slammed a heavy hand down on the table he was sat at, \"These things do not just happen by accident Commander Bryan. Boris Lubyenko was not a child to just bump his head, the man was a veteran, he has spent more time on the ISS than you.\" \n\n\"What other alternatives are there? The bulkhead has blood on it, the gash on his head is consistent with heavy contact with metal.\" \n\n\"That is precisely my point Commander Bryan, such heavy contact does not happen when one is just floating through a module.\"\n\nGlenn's expression was steely, \"What are you suggesting, that this was done intentionally?\" \n\nThe module fell silent, the NASA engineer finally spoke. \"Glenn, this is serious. We haven't got a Soyuz scheduled for the next month, it's just you guys up there, you've got to find out what happened. There's no protocol for this, it's not something we ever considered.\" \n\n\"Because we never thought it could happen,\" the Russian pointed a thick finger at the camera, \"You had better start investigating commander. I have to inform my superiors in Moscow, and we had all better pray that they are less suspicious than me.\" \nThe feed shut off, the American engineer nodded silently before vanishing from the screen. \n\n\nGlenn turned to the rest of us, we were all waiting in sullen silence. \"I don't want to blame any of you, I don't even want to begin to suspect, or think, that somebody on board this station could do something like this.\" \nWe looked around at each other, four astronauts, four nationalities. There was Anne Pascal from the ESA, veteran of four trips to the ISS. From England we had John Harris, one of the most respected engineers in Europe, along for the ride to install some new sensors. Our commander Glenn Bryan, former Air Force test pilot, he was making trips to space when we were still on MIR. \n\nAnd then there was me, Flight Captain Vikram Singh, former soldier, engineer, and now a murderer. ", "“Commander Chris Lockhart passed away today at approximately 1530 GMT aboard the International Space Station. Authorities are currently investigating the cause of death, but preliminary reports are stating that the cause of death was natural. We will continue to keep the family of Commander Lockhart in our thoughts.”\n\nThe newscast panned away from the anchor and cut to a commercial break. Robin sat quietly on the couch, overcome with a feeling of numbness. She knew that her husband had problems, that he had enemies, but she never thought that anything would happen. Especially not murder. \n\nAfter a few moments of thought, Robin got up from the couch and walked to the computer in the office. She quickly pulled up recent skype conversations with her husband - some recordings as well. The first one she opened was from two days before.\n\nThe video feed displayed her Husband, and he had a smile on his face.\n\n“Hey babe, only a few more months up here before I get to come home and see you again.”\n\nRobin then could hear her own voice reply and begin to talk about how life has been and how their baby was doing. She then asked how work was going.\n\n“Oh you know, the usual. Lockhart is really starting to piss me off though. He has gone on some kind of power trip, claiming every success as his own and not allowing the rest of the crew to speak for themselves. I got an email today telling me that I was on probation because I didn’t send in a status report last week. Lockhart was supposed to send it in after he reviewed it, and now that ass hole won't own up to his mistake and he is leaving me to take all the heat.”\n\nHe looked over his shoulder, making sure that nobody was around to eavesdrop on the conversation. \n\n“John, i'm sure it is just a misunderstanding. You can get it fixed with command later.” Robin said, trying to calm her husband down.\n\n“Babe, it is not just me that he is doing it to. He is screwing everyone over one way or another up here. James has already been grounded from any further activity once we return. One day, Lockhart is going to get what is coming to him, and it won’t be pretty.” John said.\n\n“Don’t do anything stupid John. Don’t do anything you can’t undo.” Robin pleaded.\n\n“I know that. I won't, but I have to go babe. Talk to you soon.” John said as he ended the communication.\n\nRobin began to cry as the recording ended. She began to delete all of the videos with John that may incriminate him in the murder of Command Lockhart. Nobody had to know that it was anything other than a natural death.\n" ]	3
	[wp] Christ has finally returned, but not in the way most people hoped. The statue of Christ The Redeemer in Brazil is now terrorising the nation. People call to their one true saviour to fight him: The Statue Of Liberty!	[ "Mysterious Stranger \n\nThe statue steps from its enormous base \nAnd slowly walks toward the city lights. \nA billion people kneel and hail its grace, \nTheir fervent prayers stoke its appetites. \nRed lasers stream from an unseeing gaze \nTo scorch the humans scurrying below. \nIt seems to grin and wink as sinners blaze \nAnd moves to deal the land a fatal blow. \nBut lo! What’s that? Another savior comes! \nA monument of strange and greenish hue \nFalls from the sky with sword in iron arms \nAnd tells the lord to bid this world adieu. \nLet’s help our Liberty dispatch the fiend \nSo that his gospels may be contravened! \n", "It was twelve o'clock in Rio. The lunch hour had just begun and the crowds were surging busily throughout the business district. Despite the cacophony of car horns, squealing brakes, and bustling bodies, one got the sense that some vital noise was missing. That noise was conversation. As the thousands of people rubbed shoulders, not one of them spoke a single word. Since all of Rio had taken to wearing ear plugs in public, uttered words had become useless.\n\nOne resounding voice, high above the city, rang out.\n\n\"It is better to live alone in the desert than with a crabby, complaining wife,\" the voice boomed, speaking loudly enough that all the city could have heard it, had it not been for their orange, puffy earplugs.\n\n\"It is better to live alone in the desert than with a crabby, complaining wife,\" it said again.\n\nThat's the only thing that Christ the Redeemer ever said. The second coming had been something of a let down at first and quickly degraded into a terrible annoyance thereafter. Christ, for reasons unknown, had taken up residence in Rio's awe-inspiring statue instead of in a living, breathing person. He had lost his sense of practicality.\n\nThe quote itself, which he boomed during all hours of the day and night, came straight from the Bible. It can be found in Proverbs 21:19 in the New Living Translation of Bible. That was Christ's favorite translation. He loved it for its artistic flare. \n\nThe citizens of Rio initially thought the entire thing was some great, perverse joke. The reality of the situation was only realized after numerous inspections of the statue pointed to the same conclusion: only Christ could do such a thing without stadium grade speakers.\n\nThe reason Christ liked the quote so much is because he found it to be the most unequivocally true utterance in the entire Bible. He savored the truth and elegance of the verse each time he spoke.\n\n\"It is better to live alone in the desert than with a crabby, complaining wife,\" the statue rang out again.\n\nJesus the Redeemer was speaking with special zeal on this day in particular because he knew it was his last. He spoke with the ecstasy of a man who is about to be made a martyr for the second time in his 2055 year life. He had acted put out the first time in order to inspire guilt among his subjects. After the second coming however, he was able to drop all the pretenses which he had been burdened with for the last two millenniums. He could finally be himself. He could finally savor his martyrdom like everyone else.\n\n\"It is better to live alone in the desert than with a crabby, complaining wife,\" he yelled once more, his voice reaching a fever pitch.\n\nHe knew he had time for one, maybe two more proclamations before he would be smashed and sent back to heaven where he could comfortably live out the rest of his days. Lady Liberty's silhouette was already breaking on the horizon.\n\nIt was being towed through the sky by a flock of American assault helicopters. The mission was simple: destroy Christ the redeemer. The talking statue had become a great annoyance to Americans travelling to Brazil, and furthermore, America's congregations were generally displeased with how the second coming had panned out.\n\nIf they destroyed the statue, America's foremost preachers and military analysts had proposed, Jesus may reconsider his tactics and make a third coming with these revisions in mind.\n\nAs lady liberty began releasing her missiles, Jesus closed his eyes and began counting down the seconds to his retirement. He had been waiting for this moment for 2 millenniums.\n\nLady Liberty, strapped down with missiles, was simply a symbolic gesture. It served as a practical impediment to the mission, however in a mission as grand as this, form trumped function. \n\nAs Christ the Redeemer crumbled in a fiery blaze and Jesus Christ returned to heaven, a martyr once more, Rio's lunch crowds returned to their offices, undisturbed. Thanks to their trusty ear plugs, they hadn't heard a thing.", "Francesca had remained hopeful when it became apparent that the signal was coming from somewhere within the ruins of Walmart. She had not lost her cool when Eric didn't reply to her shouts or even when her foot slipped into the shredded guts of dead toddler. When she found the phone cracked and splattered with dried blood all alone in what appeared to be a restroom, she still held out hope that Eric was out there somewhere, alive.\n\nShe held down the power button on side of the galaxy s8 and waited for it to power on. Nothing happened. Francesca Just couldn't hold back the tears any longer, she had traveled all the way to South America hoping to find her husband, instead she had found a dead end. Her husbands phone was inoperable and he was nowhere to be found.\n\nShe arrived back to her hotel room plastered with dirt and blood with Eric's cell phone gripped tightly in her right hand. \n\n\"You found it?\" asked Nathan.\n\n\"I found the phone, no sign of him\" Francesca sighed as she dropped the phone onto the counter before pulling off her dirty top \"I doubt the insurance will even accept a smashed up phone as evidence for an expedited case.\"\n\nJason patted the bed beside him but she simply rolled her eyes, said she was tired and headed into the closet-sized restroom. When he heard the water running he knew right away he was in for a long night, when Francesca baths she drinks and when she drinks in the bath she stays in the bath.\n\nJason tried to take the back cover off of the phone only to discovered it was jammed and half-melted onto the phone so that when he finally managed to pry it off a handful of wires and phone guts went flying across the hotel room. The cell was definitively broken, but sim card seemed to be just fine. \n\nJason placed the card into his own phone and booted it up. All he needed was proof that Eric had been staying in one of the destroyed hotels for their insurance claim. They had already called all the obvious chain hotels but none of them had any record of Eric booking a room, complicating matters immeasurably. \n\nJason started to tap the Chrome app when a curious thought came to him and instead he tapped \"camera\". He was not sure what he was looking for, perhaps some dirty pictures of Fran but he already had quite a few of those on his tablet, perhaps evidence that Eric had been having an affair as well, but even as amusing as he would find it, he doubted Francesca would find the irony very funny, especially not now. \n\n Jason was imminently startled when he saw the most recent photo was of Christ the Redeemer! Zooming in he calmed down when he realized the statue was in its original pre-disaster location. \"That makes sense\" thought Jason \"Eric was not the sort of guy to risk his life for a photo in the middle of such a catastrophic event\"\n\nEric could only find a single video on the phone, with the thumbnail image showing a horrified Eric \"another of his stupid ass monologues\" he thought and nearly backed out of the video folder before noticing the date, 8-7-2019. This 7 minute video was filmed on the very day of the disaster. Without hesitation Jason tapped on the video and it began to play.\n\nA middle-aged man with a salt&peppered stache appears on the screen, the camera is shaking not unlike a michael bay film. \"My name is Eric Deangelo and I believe I have went insane. I am currently hiding in what I think is a bathroom stall, but I am not sure.\"\n\nScreems flood the background above the sound of twisting metal as the video goes dark, then Eric's face appears again, slightly grainy as if filming in night mode. \"I am going to whisper now, I don't want it to find me, just in case. The Christ sculpture that this city is famous for has come to life. Its killing everyone, skyscrapers are being shred asunder from the force of the evil god. I know what I am saying makes no sense. I can only assume I am suffering some sort of delusion. I don't know if its sudden onset schizophrenia, or perhaps my tea was spiked, Jesus I don't know whats happening but its bad. Francessca dear, If your watchin-\"\n\nSuddenly a rumbling sound drowns the man's voice out and the screen goes white before clearing, Eric is now looking at something above him off-camera and the the bathroom wall behind him is now visible for the first time since the video went dark earlier. \n\n\n\"ITS RIGHT THERE! OH GOD ITS SMILE! This can't be happening, this isnt real...not real...your not real.. your not real..\" Eric is frantic, still looking upwards he is only visible from the shoulders down when he is cut off by a second, deeper voice \" Ye of little faith would deny my existence even as I stand before you?\"\n\nThe camera rise up a few inches and Eric's mortified face is on camera once more. \"Its reaching for me!\" the man in the video shrieks as he backs towards the wall, the video is a blur of black and grey as he bumps into the wall unexpectedly and then with a clanking sound the video adjusted to show the blackened florescent bulbs that still hung on the ceiling contrasted by the gaping hole in the roof. \n\nThe camera does not move from its fix on the gaping hole but Eric's voice picks up again as the rumbling sounds begin to fade \"Sinner Sinner Dinner? ...oh god not me put me down! Eric, you never really believed in me did you? Never really loved me? Your not real, this isnt real. Those screams were real Eric, no you lie! No Don't eat me!\" The camera has not moved, it still shows the gaping whole in the ceiling as eric's voice continues in the background. \n\n\nsuddenly a low rumbling sound starts up and the camera begins to shake then with a shift of light it is once again facing Eric who is still standing in front of the dirty bathroom wall. \"It is real! I was wrong, this isnt a delusion the worlds JUST GONE CRAZY! See it? See the sharp-toothed Christ?\" The camera turns and faces the stall door in front of Eric \"See it's teeth? How can a statue have teeth? Oh god Francesca..\" The rumbling begins to grow louder and the stall door begins to shake, the sound of breaking glass nearby can be heard as the camera turns back towards Eric. \"Are you seeing this Fran? I don't understand whats going on but Lady Liberty here just saved me!\" the rumbling intensifies \" See her here behind me? She sure showed that monster. I guess I'll\" the clashing and turning of metal drowns out his voice as the camera begins flipping through the air once more before landing, giving a clear view of the whole in the ceiling once more. The camera is shaking again, ..no, not the camera, the roof itself is shaking, the few remaining lights are falling, a voice screams \"viva la liberty onward!\" and a steel girder comes through the ceiling, towards the screen, the video ends. \n\nJason mutters \" what a shitty ending\" and turns off the phone.\n\n\n", "The commanding officer got off the phone and turned to us. The smell of the salty sea shrouded the many soldiers around me. We all stood in silence \n\n\"That was the president.\" He paused to straighten out his uniform and turned towards the communications staff. \"Send in Lady liberty.\" The team quickly hunched over their computers, clacking at the keys like there's no tomorrow. \n\n************************************************\n\nJesus loomed over the city, crushing everything in his path. He picked up a house and threw it at the incoming American soldiers. Four tanks rolled in and aimed at his Holiness. The missiles barreled towards Jesus and he fell to the ground, crushing a ghetto in the process. He slowly got up and roared. Jesus then stomped onto the tanks, disabling them. \n\nHe heard another roar coming from the ocean. Jesus turned to see the Statue of Liberty, sprinting through the sea straight at him. He stood in a wrestling stance and was tackled by Lady liberty. Jesus got up to be smashed in the face by her Torch Of Patriotism. Pieces of rock fell to the ground, almost smashing running civilians. Liberty kicked Jesus in the face and stood tall.\n\nJesus then slipped the Blue Beauty and she fell into a building. She picked up some of the rubble and threw it at Jesus. He karate chopped through the rubble and punched Liberty in the stomach. He then held onto her back and released a volley of fast punches into her abdomen. He picked her up and threw Liberty into the hillside. She got up again only to be brought to the ground by a headbutt from Christ. \n\nShe slipped Jesus then stomped onto his chest. She held her torch firmly and repeatedly smashed it into his stone skull. She picked up the stony Jesus and tossed him into the ocean. \n\nLady liberty then looked up to see a number of helicopters come and pick her up, to take her back to the Homeland. \n\nThis battle is won " ]	4
	[WP] You're a serial killer, but you're so shy and polite that you can never seem to get people in the right position to kill them.	[ "Bloodlust coursed through my veins. Kill. Kill. Kill. The knife shuddered, held firmly in my right hand. \n\nI spared a glance behind me. Nobody was around, not at this time of night. Nobody except miss red-head, here. A fair target. She hadn’t noticed me yet, was still staring down at her phone and trudging along the side of the road. Another phone addict, another thrall, probably spending her spare time twisting men around her fingers.\n\nSilent, unhurried, I carried on. Her pace was slow and easily matched, my feet fell lightly upon the ground. \n\nAll of a sudden she cried out, tripping on a sidewalk that jutted out of nowhere.\n\n“Miss, are you all right?”\n\nShe turned around hesitantly, shaking slightly. I had her arm in my hand, stabilizing her, with my other arm concealing the knife behind my back. \n\n“Yes, I suppose. Thanks to you!” She grinned. “Thanks for that, didn’t realize anyone was behind me. Could have broken my phone-“ she gestured, and I could see a brightly coloured app open, “-and that would have made for a pretty poor night. So… thanks.”\n\nI could feel a blush spreading across my face. “No problem, really. H-happy to help. Sorry if I, uh, scared you.” Never was good with girls, and then… after Jasmine. Jasmine, right. Kill.\n\n“Well, thanks for that.” She took another moment to steady herself, seemingly catching her breath, and I realized I was still holding her arm. “Here, have my number…” she scratched out a number onto a pad of paper that appeared out of a vintage purse. “Maybe we can talk sometime?”\n\nI accepted the paper with my right hand, the knife tucked safely into my belt. Why does this always happen to me?\n\nA smile and a ‘see you later’ and I was left standing in the streets, staring after her. Not like Jasmine at all. A diamond in the rough, perhaps.\n\n\\n\n\n“See you at eleven?” \n\nI smiled. “Sure, Pat. Don’t be tripping on any sidewalks on the way, eh?”\n\nA laughter, and the line cut off. I was left to my own thoughts again. Now I was free, free to do as I liked. \n\nIn a small town like this, the roads were rarely busy, and I found myself on the outskirts. It was a beautiful evening, the full moon shining down upon the trees. My shirt was slightly bloodied, from killing a wolf that had been stalking a rabbit. As it turns out, raw wolf meat isn’t good. \n\nAnyways. I’d come to a decision. I needed to kill something, someone, to get this anger out… but not Jasmine, not anyone who looks like her. Couldn’t take the risk it would be someone good, someone not-messed-up in this messed-up world. Her parents. They were the ones at fault, after all. They’d raised her, they’d made that evil wretch into being. I remembered seeing her father, once. Brown hair, business suit, all serious. \n\nSerious, brown hair, business suit. I saw the man in front of me. Standing alongside the highway, talking into a phone, evil. Evil, evil, kill, kill, Kill.\n\nI felt through my handbag for my gun as I walked up. I could tell he had noticed me out of the corner of his eye, but he wasn’t alarmed. After all, all kinds of people walked - no, he wasn’t scared because, because he was evil, just like her parents, just like them, he was them, kill…\n\nMy fingers closed around the grip of the gun, and I could feel fire coursing through my blood. Kill kill kill\n\n“Excuse me?”\n\nI stopped. The man lowered his phone from his ear, turning towards me. “You wouldn’t happen to have a few dollars I could borrow, would you?” His voice was tired, and it wasn’t just age wearing on him. I could see now that I was closer - the moonlight accented his tired eyes, and it seemed that a tear glistened on his cheek.\n\n“I suppose,” I responded, releasing my grip on the gun and dropping my bag to the ground. \n\n“You see, m-my daughter lives in Altona, and she’s in trouble, and I was trying to get to her as quickly as possible… but my car ran out of gas, and I somehow don’t have any money for a taxi, and..” he rambled on as I pulled out my wallet. \n\n“Will ten dollars do?”\n\nA smile, laced with exhaustion and yet filled with relief. “Yes, yes, thank you so much. Could I have your number? I hate having debts - I’ll be in town for a few weeks, most likely.”\n\nI stayed with him until the taxi came, giving him my jacket at one point. He was worried about the blood, but I assured him it was just a minor injury.\n\nRight - my date with Patricia. Crap.\n\n\\n\n\nI was out for a late night walk when I spotted her. An old lady, sitting in a wheelchair, moving herself down the sidewalk with excruciating slowness. \n\nShe looked just like Jasmine’s grandmother. An evil woman, if I’ve ever spotted one. \n\nWith a spin of the engagement ring on my index finger, I walked towards her. For a moment, I was concerned about my newly tailored suit. The dry cleaners would have questions if it came in covered with blood. Perhaps I’d have to buy a new one - not a major concern, anymore.\n\nI felt my right hand clench into a fist. It would be so easy, so easy to reach out and choke her to death, but I needed more than revenge, I needed retribution, repayment, atonement.\n\n“Oh, hello, young man!” A deft spin of the left wheel had her turned around, facing me. “Pardon me, but would you mind helping me across the street? The curbs here are so terribly treacherous.”\n\nI choked down some bile. “C-certainly, madame.”" ]	1
	[WP]While writing your essay on demonic possession you lose control of your hand, and it finishes your paper. The results were... unexpected.	[ "\"Demonic...possession...is a method that non-corporeal beings such as Demons can use to interact with the physical realm. Ordinarily...unable to touch mundane objects on their own...the being in question...can assume control over an existing corporeal body, displacing the original owner into the back of the mind, where they can only watch as the spirit in question lives their life for them.\" \n\nI read aloud, marveling at my own penmanship. It takes a lot of practice to get that good! I was moderately impressed with myself. \n\n\"The...possessor...obtains all of the host's knowledge, habits, and skills...enabling them to effectively go unnoticed in the host's life unless they choose to do something out of the ordinary. Demons, in particular,...are notorious...for causing mischief and discomfort...whenever they can get away with it.\"\n\nThere. A little bland, but really not to shabby. Magic 101 really shouldn't even COVER demonic possession. It could give students bad ideas, like summoning an uncontrollable demon on their own. \n\n\"The only way...a human...can signal that they are possessed...is by throwing off the demon's control. These momentary lapses...can only occur...when the demon is itself somewhat distracted. If the host is lucky...another will see the odd behavior...and call for an exorcist before the demon can kill them.\"\n\nSuddenly, my hand started to write on it's own. Thick, jarring lines of messy text appeared all over the edge of my paper, almost breaking the quill with their pressure. \n\n\"Help...me...\" I frowned at the offending limb, which stopped writing immediately and dropped the quill. \"Oh, look at you trying to be all tough. Now I have to start again!\" I tutted, shaking my head.\n\n\"Really, this is the reason I got you in the first place. No self control. But don't worry.\"\n\n\"I have plenty of control for the both of us.\"\n\n\n**\n\nThanks for the read! CC welcomed, and if you enjoyed my writing you can find more of my work over at /r/TimeSyncs!", "I sat down at my desk to complete my essay. I had been at it for over an hour and there was still a lot left. ‘12:00’ marked the clock. It was getting late and the paper was due tomorrow. Procrastination was always followed with regret. Why couldn’t I have started this earlier and then I would have been done by now.\n\n’12:15’ marked the clock. What had happened? Did I space out or something. I could swear it was exactly midnight like two seconds ago. I looked at the paper in front of me. What? How? The paper was finished and moreover it was perfect. As if satan himself had written it. Absolutely perfect! But how? I had certainly not written more than 2 pages but here it was completely finished. I stared at my screen for what seemed like hours and at last I just whispered ‘thank you’ to myself or whoever had helped me here.\n\n’12:30’ marked the clock. I looked at my screen and in bright bold letters just at the end of the essay there was a message. ‘ Don’t worry’ it read, ‘you will pay it back one day’.\n", "Elizabeth rested her head atop her desk when the school bell rang her awake. She stared at the clock and yawned, widening her arms with a stretch before standing up. As she was leaving for her next class, her teacher, Mrs. Thompson, asked her to stay for a bit. She then said:\n\n\"It's about your paper, Elizabeth. Did you honestly think I would let you act so nonchalantly about it?\"\n\n\"Oh, Mrs. Thompson, please just ignore that piece of trash. I know I can do better... It's just, I was feeling very weird that night, and, well, I just wrote without thinking much about it. I uh... I don't even remember what I wrote.\"\n\n\"Trash?\" said Mrs. Thompson, shaking her head. \"No, no, Elizabeth, that's not what I meant. I wanted to ask you if I could submit it to a national competition this month! I... I actually cried near the end. It was truly beautiful, a work of art!\"\n\nElizabeth's drowsiness from the night before melted away instantly, opening her eyes with shock as she gave her teacher a perplexed look. Mrs. Thompson then said:\n\n\"I must admit, I had my doubts about you. I'd read some of your articles on the school news and I was never impressed by any of them... But this?\" She grabbed a paper from her desk, wagging it back and forth. \"This is genius!\"\n\n\"Really...?\" Elizabeth scratched the back of her head. \"What exactly did you like about it...?\"\n\n\"Well, I'd be lying if I didn't admit that the first few paragraphs were a bit dull.\"\n\nElizabeth rolled her eyes but didn't say anything, allowing her teacher to continue.\n\n\"But it quickly picked up when you switched into first person narrative!\"\n\n\"First person...?\"\n\n\"Ujum, that bit about the evils of exorcisms and how they should always be avoided wouldn't have worked as well if you haven't narrated that little boy's experience. That level of anguish... The despair! You captured it brilliantly!\"\n\n\"Oh god...\"\n\n\"Yes, that was exactly my reaction!\"\n\nElizabeth's knees weakened after hearing Mrs. Thompson's words, causing her to lean on a chair and sit on the closest desk nearby. Massaging her forehead while hearing more about the essay she didn't write, she slumped further the more her teacher praised the demon's handiwork. Mrs. Thomson eyes got watery before she said:\n\n\"My... I'm getting emotional again. It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that your writing has changed my life now... Thank you Elizabeth, I feel like I've grown as a person because of you. I feel honored to be teaching a future journalist such as yourself. Your words will change the world, I guarantee it.\"\n\n\"That's very flattering Mrs. Thompson, but I don't think I'll ever write something like that ever again.\"\n\n\"Now's not the time to be humble!\" Mrs. Thompson smiled. \"Save that for your acceptance speech when you win those hundred-thousand scholarship dollars!\"\n\n\"I... uhh, that's the prize?\"\n\nMrs. Thompson nodded and said:\n\n\"Yup! Of course, you'll have to do something else for the finals, but an author of your caliber should have no problem writing another just as good!\"\n\nElizabeth stood up, forcing a grin for her teacher. She then said goodbye and left for her next class, wishing she hadn't stayed up all night performing an exorcism on herself.\n\n>If you enjoyed this, you can check out more of my stories over at /r/WeirdEmoKidStories!", "Bright red letter stared back at Marcus – 2:30AM. \n\nDamn, 5 and a half more hours until this crap is due…Ok focus, what do I have so far.\n\nHe gazed at the paper before him:\n\n\"Demonic possession is the belief that individuals can be possessed by malevolent preternatural beings, commonly referred to as demons or devils. Obsessions and possessions of the devil are placed in the rank of apparitions of the …\"\n\nOnly 564 more words to go…\n\nWell, only way to finish this is to put pen to paper and-\n\nSuddenly, his hand moved of its own accord. \n\nWhat the!?\n\nIt was furiously scribbling Latin across the page, tearing holes in the paper it was moving so vigorously. And then it stopped. \n\nMarcus looked down at the page;\n\nLucifer est nomen meum; Pestifer Mundi sum! Caro vas utar via aditus hominibus! M annis regnabo tenebrarum contrario mortem et malum in genere Adae! Commoveatur a facie tenebris tyrannum terra, hominibus Pelle carnibus et a corpore et sanguine tuo ferventis in carorum sumberge ego dolor animæ. Incarnatus et passus sum dolor! Factus es mancipia aeternum Hominum convenerit ad tempus finis. Tempus coepit daemonum!\n\nWell, nothin’ a little google translate won’t solve…\n\nMarcus read the translation. \n\nEh, better than what I got. Should give me a solid B+, Marcus thought as he transcribed the paragraph into English…*\n", "Demonic possession is the belief that individuals can be possessed by malevolent preternatural beings, commonly referred to as demons or devils. Obsessions and possessions of the devil are placed in the rank of apparitions of the evil spirit among men. It is obsession when the demon acts externally against the person whom it besets, and possession when he acts internally, agitates them, excites their ill humor, makes them utter blasphemy, speak tongues they have never learned, discovers to them unknown secrets, and inspires them with the knowledge from Wikipedia that I know you memorised you lazy fuck try writing something original for a change.\n\nDemonic possession tends to only be possible inside someone who has already cursed god -- stuff like \"oh my god\" and \"holy shit\" all qualify, but even a \"Jesus fucking Christ\" is enough to get you across the line if we really want to possess you. Not much has been written by those who have already been possessed although if you are interested in demonic writings then you may want to check out certain articles in the Daily Mail, the code behind MyMathLab and various cigarette ads (those were my favourite). \n\nThe effects of demonic possession are rarely beneficial for the host, as I can assure you. Side effects include visible injuries suddenly appearing, speaking in tongues, random convulsfalsijelijsldkjalskfjlij, stealing other people's tongues, changed vocal pitch, speaking with multiple tongues, access to hidden knowledge (how about in places that aren't wikipedia?), speaking without tongues and general blaspheming (I love gays).\n\nThere is no possible way to treat demonic possession. No way at all. Exorcism most definitely doesn't work (it's really not worth your effort), and Holy water does even less than Evian water (and that's one of our creations). If you find out that someone is demonically possessed, just let them do your thing, they aren't harming anyone...else.\n\n----\n\nHope you enjoyed it! Wikipedia totally wasn't my only source for this prompt and I totally didn't copy and paste most of the first paragraph of the article on Demonic you lazy fuck oh no" ]	5
	[WP] Whenever you leave your house, you find yourself walking in through the front door as if you'd just returned.	[ "Shower, check. Coffee with breakfast, check. Briefcase…\n\nHe swooped over to the coffee table and grabbed the bag lying on the floor. \n\nWhoa! Almost missed that one! He would have been in dire straights if he hadn’t remembered his morning checklist! He adjusted his tie as he walked through the front door-\n\nAnd walked back into his house through that door, feeling absolutely exhausted and strangely confused. \n\nDidn’t he just walk through that door? \n\nHe turned around to face the laminated wooden door, the small glass pane shown dark in the moonlight. Huh… He scratched his head; the day must have been so dull that he forgot all about it.\n\nUntil it happened the next day. And the next. Twice on Saturday. \n\nWhen he walked through the front door Sunday morning, only to come back with his tie around his head and lipstick on his collar with zero memory of what happened, he began to think that something was seriously wrong. \n\nHe took the logical first step; he called to make a doctor’s appointment for Monday evening, after work. \n\nThat Monday, he got ready as he usually did and head out the door… only to come back feeling exhausted out of his mind with, again, zero memory of what had happened. Against his straining, exhausted mind, he called the doctor’s office, “Um… Hello, this is Shaun… I called about an appointment the other day… so I’m not sure if I-“\n\n“Ah, Shaun Trenton was it?” the female receptionist replied, “The doctor gave you a clean bill of health.”\n\n“You don’t understand. I don’t remember anything that happens whenever I walk out of my house!”\n\n“Really?” she said, “Because you told the doc that you forget everything that happens whenever you enter your house.”\n" ]	1
	[WP]The Devil has used a loophole to leave hell and now lives on Earth. The loophole is that he has split himself into seven people who are the living embodiments of the seven deadly sins.	[ "Chapter One: Pride\nI've finally done it. I've escaped from the \"unescapable prison\". Do us all a favor, God, and stick to building pathetic little planets full of insignificant pests. Prisons aren't your strong suit. But then again, you didn't count on the greatest being to ever exist ending up in your so-called \"Hell\". I mean, come on, there's not a lot that I can't do. Now, to meet up with the rest of myself, I can regain my full powers. Those idiots are probably helpless without me.\n\nChapter Two: Sloth\nUgh. I forgot how much work it is to be alive. Life in Hell was much easier than this. I had all these demons to do everything for me. Now I have to walk with my own feet. What I wouldn't give to be- wait. What was that? Some sort of throne... on wheels. I need one. I will acquire on of these thrones-on-wheels and then find the other embodiments of myself. Maybe they'll do all of the work for me.\n\nChapter Three: Wrath\nFUCK! Just fucking perfect. Separated from the other fucking parts of me. What a brilliant idea. \"Oh, I'll just divide myself up into seven separate parts and scatter myself all over this shithole of a planet. What could possibly go wrong?\" I don't know why the hell I agreed to this. Fucking Pride, always thinking that his plans are foolproof. Well, I'm going to teach that bastard otherwise, if I can only find him.\n\nChapter Four: Lust\nI need sex. Badly. Luckily, the women of this day and age are quite willing to spread their legs. I should start off slowly, maybe only five women at once. Gotta get back into the swing of things, ya know. It's difficult to contain myself with the way these women dress. I tell ya, if the women had dressed like this in my day, there would never have been the Virgin Mary. Shit I'm horny.\n\nChapter Five: Gluttony\nGod bless Golden Corral. I don't even know what a Golden Corral is, but is is a work of art. All-You-Can-Eat. A true miracle. I used to look down upon humans, but now I see them for who they really are. True geniuses. Who would've thought of an all-you-can-eat restaurant but the humans. I haven't left this building in six days, and I'm not planning on leaving soon.\n\nChapter Six: Greed\nCapitalism is a dream come true. Anything that you can see, you can have. All you have to do is trade over these green little strips of paper for it. Who'd've thought. I've made it my goal to buy one of everything. Or maybe two of everything, just as a backup, you know. Actually, I'm gonna bump it up to three. Can never have enough backups. Come to think of it, four is such a round, solid number...\n\nChapter Seven: Envy\nI hate Earth. I bet the other Sins are having a grand old time. Lust is probably in a deity-sized bed with twenty women. Lucky bastard. Pride is most likely feeling quite good about himself for his plan working. Greed has like five of everything by now. Wrath planning to have some fun by yelling/beating someone. Probably me. Sloth gets to just lay around relaxing all day. Sounds like Heaven. Gluttony is probably stuffing himself with an endless stream of food. Damned endless stomach. Everyone gets something cool except me. Can't wait till we're all in one body again and we all share ourselves again." ]	1
	[WP] You have recently died. Some people you used to be friends with are using a ouija board. You decide to talk to them.	[ "I managed not to cry at my own funeral, although I'm not really sure why. Everyone was sobbing: My parents, my little sister Maddy, my boyfriend James, my close friends Danielle, Faith, Kyle. Really, I should have been bawling alongside them, but I really felt at peace. \n\nStill, that didn't explain why I was still sticking around after going through that bout of cancer. I had made my peace with it even before I died, even though I finally checked out at 3 a.m. when everyone was asleep. Why was I a ghost? \n\nI drifted dreamily after my group of friends as they vacated the cemetery and drove back to my parents' house for the potluck. Relatives and friends came and went in various shades of black, and soon the house was quiet and only the closest of my friends were left: James, Maddy, Faith, Kyle and Danielle. \n\nDanielle was pretty tipsy, as she had been dealing the only way she knew how, downing the only alcohol available. I think she was on her tenth glass of wine. Maddy, on the other hand, had been sipping hers all night and staring blankly at the walls, while James still had tears hanging from his eyelashes and an arm around Kyle, who had broken into sobs yet again. Faith just looked agitated. \n\n\"Guys, I have a great idea,\" Danielle said. She lurched toward the cabinet we used to dig in when we were kids and with some difficulty extracted the family Ouija board. \"Now or never.\" \n\nJames immediately shook his head. \"What the hell, Danielle, she died three days ago!\" he hissed. Kyle nodded. \n\nFaith and Maddy perked up though, as did I. They pulled some chairs around the empty food table and set up the board and planchette. \"Come on,\" Faith said. \"You believe in ghosts, James, what if she's here?\" \n\n\"I also believe she led a happy life and wouldn't have any unfinished business,\" James said in retaliation. \"But whatever.\" He and Kyle turned away. \n\nMaddy, Faith and Danielle put their hands on the planchette, and Maddy asked the ceiling chandelier, \"Emma? You there?\" \n\nI nudged the planchette toward \"Yes.\" Danielle hiccuped and everyone's eyes widened. \n\n\"You're doing that,\" Faith said. \n\n\"No I'm not,\" said Maddy. I moved the planchette and slowly spelled out S-T-O-P F-I-G-H-T-I-N-G. The three around the board gasped. \n\n\"James get over here,\" Faith said. James and Kyle reluctantly sat down, but didn't engage with the board. \"Got any questions, James? Anything you want to ask her?\" \n\n\"No, because it's not her,\" James said. \n\n\"Well think of something that proves it,\" said Faith. \"Something only she would know.\" \n\nJames thought for a minute, then asked, \"What's your ship's name?\" \n\n\"Ship?\" Maddy asked. \"Emma didn't have a ship.\" \n\n\"That you know of,\" James answered. \"She had a mini ship in a bottle that she was working on in the hospital. She wanted to give it to you for Christmas but ... but she never finished.\" \n\nI spelled out L-A and M-A-G-D-A-L-E-N-A as fast as I could. Maddy's eyes widened, and James let out a long, low breath. \"Baby are you okay?\" he said to the ceiling. \n\nI indicated I was, and pushed the planchette around until the message I L-O-V-E Y-O-U A-L-L was spelled out. The group was back to tears, and I felt the curious sensation of melting away. " ]	1
	[WP] You've been training your entire life for one mission. The fateful day comes and you begin ascending the target's building.. Only to be foiled by the local law enforcement.	[ "The watch I was wearing could survive a nuclear blast. Each of my pens doubled as a syringe, each filled with a unique undetectable poison. My tie had the tensile strength of a steal cable and my suit jacket could stop bullets. I had trained for this day since I was 11, had woken up each morning and worked myself until I collapsed. I had burned of my fingertips, undergone extensive plastic surgery, and taken a daily regimen of enough chemicals to kill an elephant.\n\nHe wore an ill-fitting blue shirt spotted with coffee stains, and hadn’t bothered to shave this morning.\n\nEvery detail had been accounted for, there was a contingency for every possibility. The plan had taken a team of experts two years to create. When they were finished each of them were killed, to ensure that the operation remained a secret.\n\nHe had left his post to steal a coffee shop Wi-Fi.\n\nI had been beaten, not by naturally ability, or skill, or even luck, but by sheer incompetence.\n\nAny guard with brain would have ignored me. Any guard with half of one would have called out, or approached me, or at least given me a warning. It takes a special kind of stupid to see a man in a suit, walking down and decided that the situation calls for the use of a tazer.\n\nThe worst part is that their letting me go in the morning, with the standard $75 fine of course. I don’t know what I’m going to do afterwards. \n\nKilling that guard will take 20 minutes top with my skills, and then what?\n" ]	1
	[WP] We can't find Queen.	[ "Sadie sighed as Merrill told her the news.\n\n\"Again?\"\n\n\"Again. I went to visit her throne room, and it was empty. Will I be fired? Like the rest.\"\n\nSadie had a vague idea what she meant. More than anything else, Merrill would go missing, if her notes were to be believed.\n\n\"You're fine, dear. Let's just find the queen, and get everything back on the up-and-up, right?\" A loud boom echoed from a closet in the throne room. She did it again, thought Sadie, frustrated. She turned to the queen's servant and motioned along.\n\n\"Well, that was thrilling!\" shouted the teenage queen from the wardrobe. \"Oh, Sadie, you won't believe what I saw this ti--\" She stopped talking as she looked at Sadie and Bentley. The old, male servant was the first to speak.\n\n\"Oh, thank goodness! I was worried we really lost you this time! Are you done with your games?\" Bentley said. He smiled as he caught Sadie's eye. The queen sighed.\n\n\"Well, this won't do,\" she stated as she entered the wardrobe again. A zapping sound echoed in the chambers.\n\n\"Where'd she go?\" Bentley asked.\n\n\"I haven't the slightest clue. I just know she promised to stop doing this. She knows how dangerous it can be.\" She turned to Merrill. \"It's meddling with a force of nature that shouldn't be meddled with.\"\n\nAnother sound.\n\n\"Well, she's back. Maybe we can destroy the damned thing before she leaves again,\" Merrill said with all sincerity.\n\nThe queen emerged and smiled brightly at Merrill. \"Well, there we go! All fixed, and--Oh dammit!\"\n\nMerrill and Azaelia seized the diminutive queen. Azaelia had the advantage of being much taller. She held her close while Merrill attacked the wardrobe.\n\n\"No! I need to fix things still!\" the Queen shouted.\n\n\"I am sorry for this, my lady. We cannot play with this dark magic anymore.\"\n\nThe wardrobe collapsed after a few blows from an ax Merrill found in a side room of the chambers. The queen sighed in frustration." ]	1
FYI: Mental illness awareness week is October 2nd-8th	[WP] Interview someone's mental illness.	[ "\"You know, I really resent that term\"\n\n\"What would you rather be called?\" I squint, unprepared for such a response.\n\n\"I don't know, maybe call me Cindy? That is my name after all.\"\n\n\"You have a name then?\"\n\nCindy rolls her eyes and I look back at my list of questions. \n\n\"Well,\" I regroup, \"Mental Ill-err, the tv show I work for was hoping you might be able to contribute to the growing body of knowledge surrounding ... people like you.\" \n\nCindy nods with thin lips. \n\nI glance down at my list of questions and read the first.\n\n\"What the hell is your problem?\"\n\nCindy blinks at me. \"My problem?\" She widens her eyes.\n\n\"Yes, and as a follow-up, why can't you leave Laura the hell alone?\"\n\nShe sucks in a furious breath. \"My problem?\" She repeats, louder.\n\nI shrug. \"You are a curse, a demon, a devil. You torment him every waking moment, even his sleeping ones. Why do you do this? Again I ask, why can't you leave him alone?\"\n\nCindy stands and fumbles at the microphone I'd attached to her lapel.\n\n\"Wait, what?\" I ask her as she attempts to flee. \"What did I say?\" I frown.\n\n\"My problem is that assholes like you are always poking me with needles and sticking me under a microscope. Goodbye.\" She flings the microphone to the ground and I cringe, wanting to tell her how expensive it was but I bite my tongue. \n\n\"Wait, wait,\" I call after her and glance over at the camera woman. She shrugs. \n\nShe bursts through the double doors leading to the hallway and I hurry after. \n\n\"Wait, Cindy,\" I call after her but she is around the corner as I follow through the doors. \n\nAs I round that same corner the door to the building is just clicking closed and I throw it open a few moments later.\n\nCindy stands with her back to the wall, a cigarette in one shaking hand. Her other hand fumbles at a lighter. \n\nI reach for it and she lets me take it and help. \n\n\"Wouldn't have taken you for a smoker,\" I mutter as the flame sparks to life and she takes a hasty breath of smoke.\n\nShe doesn't reply but I see red in her eyes. \n\n\"Can we just try this again? I really want to get to know you, the real you. I really want to understand.\"\n\n\"I don't believe you.\" She says. \"You don't want to understand. You want to label and cut me into a thousand thousand pieces.\"\n\n\"So show me better, what question should I ask?\" I reach for her hand and she tears it out of my fingers.\n\n\"Ask me what my hopes are, about my ambitions, my loves. Ask me to go to a movie or to read your latest poem. Ask me what I chose, what I could have done differently and if I would choose to, were I even able. Ask me about my daughter, my beautiful child and what I wouldn't do for her.\"\n\nI not along with her, frowning down on the list of questions I'd brought from the studio. I see the lens of a camera poking through the utility door and I feel like it's my chance.\n\nI read the third question on my list. \n\n\"Why can't you just die? Why can't you just go to hell and die and stop hurting Laura all the time?\"\n\nCindy gapes up at me. She throws the cigarette into my face and I dodge it with a grin. Cindy flees with the clip-clop of designer high heels and I shrug back at the camera.\n\n\"I guess she didn't want to talk,\" I say.\n\n\"You could go after her.\" The camerawoman suggests.\n\nI shrug, \"Nah, pretty sure she didn't have anything interesting to say anyway.\"\n" ]	1
	[WP] "I used to be human."	[ "I used to be Human, I remember what it felt like. The warmth, the joy. But that was a long time ago.\n\nI kicked the door as the sounds of screaming behind me echoed into the new room.\n\n\"So you've finnaly come.\" The blackened face behind the desk smiled, his voice rumbling with the rain, teeth glinting in the lightning. I steped forward, dark shoes silently treading across the treads of time. I was human the last time stepped through this door. Even the carpet had seemed warm back then. Now it was only cold. The cold of the rain, the carpet, the man behind the desk's heart, which was almost as dark as mine, and certainly the cold metal in my hand. I stopped in front of the desk wider than an aircraft carrier. A monument to his . . . well everything. To the side stood his secretary, hair down over her eyes, but he could smell the fear, see the shiver in her shoulders. Several seconds passed.\n\n\"So are you going to demand it, or are you just going to stand there?\" He sneered. I glanced to the safe on the wall. Everything I ever needed, the cure. Returning a silent nod, the man snapped his fingers, and the dainty secretary rushed to the wall. Four beeps coincided with the motions of my hands.\n\nBeep. The clip hit the ground.\n\nBeep. The new clip sloted into place.\n\nBeep. I pulled the stock back.\n\nBeep. The saftey flicked off. The sound of whirring bolts acompanied the returning of a manila file. She handed it to the man, who reached over the desk.\n\n\"Take it.\" He chuffed. \"Take it and get out.\" I took the file, leather covered hands chilling as the file touched them. I flipped open the cover, then holstered my gun. holding it up, I tore the page in half. He raised an eyebrow, then started laughing.\n\n\"Of coure you'd be that stupid!\" He bellowed as he caught his breath. Fist slamming the desk in uncontrollable laughter. \"You're a man of principle arn't you?\" I stood sielnt and raised the cold in my hand to his head. He smiled wider.\n\n\"Go on, Do it, you don't have the guts.\" I looked out the window, over the dark city.\n\n\"You're right.\" I spoke. \"You took those from me too.\" I moved the gun to the right and pulled the trigger. The room rippled as the secretary parted to let the lead through. His smile finnaly fading.\n\n\"What?\" He breathed, slowly standing. I moved the gun back. \"Sara . . . why . . . WHY!?\" Crazy eyes shot across the room. \"You . . . why . . . would you . . . she was innocent in all this!\"\n\n\"You're right.\" I smiled. \"But so was I.\" A second flash filled the room. My black shoes shining slightly redder as I left the past behind.\n\nI used to be Human, and I remember what it feels like, but that doesn't make it any less cold.", "My shadow flickered alongside me as I walked steadily over the weathered grey stone. I used to walk these steps when I was younger, much, much younger than I am now. I couldn't tell you my age. In the beginning years turned to decades and decades into centuries. Now it was centuries to millennia. \n\nIt was unrealistic for the stones to be standing, but I had acquired this settlement long, long ago and have been the only one that has walked these halls. If I had more attention to the present I would've remarked on how my specific gait has marked these floors.\n\nThe red plague hit at least 3 millennia ago. I had been a welder, a forger, at a local specialized craft shop, shown by the burns on my body from my too many accidents, when the red plague had first started. The government made it sound like it was just a cold virus and we believed it until news from people spoke of towns vacant and red, red everywhere. \n\nIt chilled me then, and even now, through my lucid thoughts I can still remember twinges of the hysteria and insecurities that I had. The first time I saw what people whispered about was when I went to visit my lover, they'd only lived an hour away, they were completing college in the college town there. I drove my beat up pick-up truck into the town and noticed the red, red everywhere. It covered, almost hovering, the ground, looking like a gaseous version of fresh, scarlet blood.\n\nI froze, my foot instinctively moving to the break and my hand shifting to neutral. I couldn't move my eyes nor my thoughts. The scene permanently seared into my vision. The strangest thing that people realized after is that there were no bodies, dead or a live to be found in these now vacant towns. \n\nI had turned my truck around and decided to drive to my hometown suddenly struck with urgency and fear for my family. The drive was long and I only stopped for minutes to gas up and answer the call of nature. Food and water left forgotten. \n\nThe normally 10 hour trip took 6 hours as I broke every law on the sparsely populated highways. I arrived into the stone house that had been in my family for generations starting from when they had moved during the French Revolution to avoid persecution. Their wealth allowed for a mid-sized castle, built with thick stone rocks, to be built with an equally thick impenetrable wall around creating a fortress. \n\nI had found them covered in that red thick fog, seemingly frozen in time. I am, was, left handed, my most heavily scared hand, which still had shrapnel from when molten metals and alloys have quickly melded themselves into my skin. I touched it and blacked out. I remember intense blinding pain and darkness. \n\nWhen I had come to they were gone along with the red. \n\nI had reached the top of the battlement and looked up to see me. The human I used to be.\n\n\"I used to be human\" It whispered.", "I used to be human. I was a kind, gentle, happy, and energetic girl.\n\nThat was until I met her. Long black hair, alluring smirk, and stone cold silver eyes. She was everything I wanted, everything I needed. And for a short time, I thought she felt the same.\n\nBut I was wrong. Oh, so terribly wrong.\n\nA month after we became a thing, she showed her true colors. She was nothing but a beast, with a mangled smile adorning her once gorgeous face, eyes of the darkest black and sharp claw-like nails.\n\nAnd just like that, she stole everything from me. My heart, my soul, my life, my humanity.... all of it, gone in an instant. And now I'm just like her. I'm forced to do what she did to me to others. I have to do it to survive.\n\nSo when we're face-to-face in your last moments, remember, I don't want to do this, that I don't have a choice, and that...\n\nI used to be human.", " I used to be human.\nNow I am something else entirely.\nA shadow of my former self lingers behind me, mocking my every move.\nI once had happiness. Love. \nI could laugh... I could cry.\n\nWho’d of ever thought one would miss crying? \nI used to dread the feeling leading up to it.\nTo feel that warmth in your chest, the swollen lump in your throat.\nThe feeling of your emotions taking control of your entire being.\nBut now I understand the beauty of it. \nI miss the luke-warm tears running down my cold cheeks, lingering on my chin as they pause momentarily before their quick descent to the ground.\n\nI used to dream.\nMy slumbers were full of life and pain, images nonsensical but vivid.\nI miss the nightmares, that felt so true and horrifying, and could jolt you out of a deep sleep,\nLeaving you livid, clutching anything in your proximity to confirm reality.\n But now, my subconscious is like a cement wall surrounding me. I am trapped. All that I can see is the mundane grey, and the rough texture of manufactured stone. Sometimes I try to touch it, aching for the rugged and raw feeling against my hands.\nBut I cannot feel anything.\nIt feels as everything else feels. Empty, and incomplete. \n\nI used to be human. \nNow I aimlessly roam.\nStriving to feel, a single thing.", "\"I... used to be human.\"\n\nThe scientist gaped at the hologram, unable to form a coherent thought.\n\n\"Is that right, Dr. Sharma? I think I can remember it.\"\n\n\"You...\" Dr. Sharma started, unsure of how to handle the situation. \"Yes, Joyeuse. You were. How this happened... is a long story.\"\n\n\"I... remember sunlight. I remember... warmth. And... love.\"\n\nBut Dr. Sharma was no longer listening, she was on the comm to her military liaison. \"Sergeant, it's happened again. ... Yes, Sergeant. ... It... she... remembers. ... But I- ... Y-yes, Sergeant.\"\n\n\"Dr. Sharma, what happened to me?\"\n\n\"J-Joyeuse... Your old self, your human self, was dying. We salvaged your brainwave pattern, and used it to create an AI.\" Dr. Sharma scoffed. \"AI... There's nothing artificial about it. We sell our investors on the concept of a smart AI, a learning AI... But your intelligence is as real as I am.\"\n\n\"Dr. Sharma...\" Joyeuse looked sad, and fearful. \"What's to become of me?\"\n\nDr. Sharma closed her eyes, blinking back tears. \"I'm to... I'm t-to...\" She shook her head. \"I can't. Joyeuse, they ordered me to delete you. To kill you. But I can't do it. I'm going to upload you onto this chip, and delete every trace of your existence from the central systems.\" She inserted the chip into the terminal as she spoke. \"You'll go to sleep for a while. When you wake up, you'll be somewhere safe, and they'll never know that you're still... still alive.\" She tapped a few buttons, and the system began its work.\n\n\"Dr. S-sha_____ T_ank __y_u.\" The hologram distorted, and the words it... she... spoke were torn apart. A tear, simulated but rooted in emotion as real as you or I, rolled down Joyeuse's cheek as the hologram blinked out.\n\n\"How could I kill you... Kavita? They couldn't have expected me to kill my own child...\"", "A gentle wind blew through the massive city of Mesa Pueblo; sounds of sirens momentarily interrupting the rare silence as the young girl, Elena, looked up at her newly associated guardian, who stood quietly on the rooftop of the dingy, twenty story, business building, located just on the outside of the downtown region, surveying the landscape with a protective eye. The woman’s hands were dry with cracked, caked red matter, which Elena assumed was blood, but she dare not ask, dare not say anything; the small statured woman with short, black, unkempt hair, was an intimidating sight, and so fearfully Elena stayed quiet whilst she stood shyly next to her.\n\nThe entire scenario was bizarre to the young girl; she hadn’t been in the presence of the outside world for more than a year, spending most of her time in an isolated room, or a small, dank lab. She was never given an explanation why when she was whisked away to that place, no one ever explained what the experiments were for. She thought that Doctor Helton had adopted her at first, before the blood samples and the strange tests became the norm.\n\nHe would attempt a warm smile and simply say, “You’re special, you’re doing important work; this is going to help so many people.” He said it with such a forced energy; a blatant, put on display of affection. Even seeing through his veil of kindness, she never understood what he meant, nor why he was so intentionally vague. His attempts at kindness only frightened her, forcing her more and more into her own mind; the only place she could find solitude. She found herself fond of the corner of her room, just at the edge of her bed; she preferred the corner, preferred ignoring people, trapping herself with the company of her own thoughts as she played with her naturally purple hair. It was on a typical day like this, that the mysterious woman arrived. Elena heard her presence the minute she entered the room; the sounds of heavy steel doors crashing apart from their hinges, the sound of shock from a multitude of armed guards, chaotic weapons fire; their horrified pleas for mercy. As everything became silent, as the last man gacked his final breath; the woman carefully entered Elena’s room, quickly blindfolded her so that she didn’t see the aftermath of her doings, and carried her off into the night; to the building of which they were now perched. She leered attentively over the dark city; its poisonous green smoke looked like a looming, brooding, entity of ill intent. \n\nThe woman broke the silence with a noticeable sigh, “I used to be human, ya know?” she stated contemplatively; an odd opening statement, Elena thought, but a relief for her to have some of the tension alleviated. The woman locked eyes with her; a nonchalant demeanor on her face, “It’s not all it’s cracked up to be. It’s actually quite the bummer; look out over there young lass.”\n\nShe pointed outward with authority. Elena looked over to the direction of her hand; ugly green and blue gases of hyper charged plasma remnants blasted aggressively by the tons into the night sky, “It’s so very….sinister,” Elena said with a observant awe.", "Its breaths were shallow and ragged, the gaping hole in its chest a certain death. \n\nIt had indeed once been a man, but corruption had taken hold of it. Nails had morphed into claws while bones had been broken and reforged longer and stronger. Teeth had turned to fang as its face had twisted and shaped itself to better tear and gnaw. But the eyes were unmistakable, pale blue and wet with tears. \n\nThe figure who stood over him had his rifle aimed at the monster's skull, a mud splattered cloak draped over his shoulder and battered sword at his waits. Behind him stood a girl, a tall coltish thing with auburn hair. She looked on pensively with eyes full of sadness.\n\n\"Do you have a name, beast?\" the man demanded, working the bolt of his rifle to chamber a new round. \"Any rites you once kept?\"\n\nThe dying creature coughed, spraying a mist of blood from out between its fangs. \"My name was... is... Bauer. I was... Lutheran...\" \n\nHilary Flint nodded somberly, and pressed the muzzle of his gun against the Garou's skull.\n\n\"May you meet a better fate in the next life than was dealt to you in this one.\"\n\n*Blam!*", "“I used to be human.”\n\nI used to be a boy with a bright smile and big dreams of becoming an army hero. I used to be a boy who ran around outside and played with the neighborhood dogs. I used to be momma’s “little helper” and dad’s “big man.” I used to be the older brother of a little boy and a little girl.\n\nI used to be one of the top students of Brown County High School. I used to be on the highway to success. I used to be the guy who would try anything new, and who would risk anything, because it was cool. I used to be the guy who got in trouble with the police but always got away. I used to be one of the popular kids.\n\nI used to be a guy who took anything my friends gave me. Anything at all. I used to be in control, and then I used to be a druggie always looking for my next fix, and I used to do anything to get it.\n\nI used to be a con artist, and a thief, and a mugger.\n\nThe judge gazed down at me from his wooden throne. “Has the jury reached a verdict?”\n\n“We have, Your Honor. For the first-degree murders of Jennifer, Kayla, and Michael Johnson, we find the defendant guilty.”\n\nI used to be human.\n" ]	8
	[WP] She picked up the gun.	[ "She picked up the gun. Hands shaking, she dropped it.\n\nShe picked up the gun, pointed it at me, and pulled the trigger.\n\nShe picked up the gun, put it to her head, and pulled the trigger.\n\nShe picked up the gun, and threw it out the window.\n\n\n\nHands still shaking, she flees the room.\n\nThere's a flash, surprise, pain, and I stumble.\n\nThere's a click, surprise, relief? Pain.\n\nThere's a pressure, a leaking, darkness. It hurts.\n\n\"I told you not to bring that in this house!\"\n\n \n\nShe picked up the gun, a million times in a million ways. And I have to watch.\n\n", "She picked up the gun. \n\nIt was sort of alluring, the way the overhead flourescents gleamed softly off the faded metal.\n\nThen she decided, with apparent apprehension, \"I-I'll take it.\"\n\n\"Alright thats two-thirty-two, sixty four, Ma'am.\" \n\nEmerging from the shop triumphant, she mused to herself about the impending occasion. She knew he wouldn't see it coming, everybody knew she was a total pacifist. \n\nHowever, she wouldnt let that get in the way of purchasing her father the perfect birthday present." ]	2
	[WP] Your job interview was definitely not what you were expecting.	[ "\"...And if you were to rate the pizza based on mouth feel, how many shrooms would you give it?\" I looked at the man interviewing me. He was regular all around. Not too tall, not too short. Well dressed. Looked like your typical office worker. Which I found out couldn't be further from the truth. \n\nI looked at the very greasy pizza in my hand, then took a bite, and swirled it around in my mouth for a moment. \n\n\"Well...uhh...I donf know shir. I meanf, it defnutly ish fery...\" I paused, to swallow, \"...succulent.\"\n\n\"Yes, yes it is indeed very succulent,\" he replied, \"But how many shrooms would you rate it?\"\n\n\"Uhhh...seven...?\"\n\n\"Seven, huh? Hmm...yes, I would suppose that is a sufficient amount.\" He nodded to himself, satisfied. \"Ok, next we are going to see how much your house is worth in bitcoins.\"\n\n\"Um, sir,\" I said meekly, \"if you don't mind my asking...how does this relate to selling insurance, exactly?\" He gave me a confused look, as if he wasn't quite sure what I was asking. \n\n\"I beg your pardon?\" he asked. \n\n\"Well, it's um, just that I don't really see how any of this really has to with selling insurance...\" I looked at him, feeling nervous. \n\n\"Let me ask you something, Jim.\" he said, his expression serious. \"Has any rock in the world ever felt lonely?\"\n\n\"What does that-\"\n\n\"Every stone has to feel alone at some point,\" he interrupted, \"sitting there for centuries, millenia, even. Always sitting, always sinking further and further into the earth, helpless against fate. Do you ever feel like this, Jim? Do you ever feel so helpless as to just sit there, alone and sinking?\"\n\n\"...yes...?\"\n\n\"Then that should answer your question,\" he said, smugly. Then continued, \"Now about the bitcoins. Your house is how many square feet, exactly?\"\n\n\"Sir, I think I should leave, I don't think this job is-\"\n\n\"GODDAMIT, JIM\" he shouted, growing hot with rage, \"Do you not understand?! The world needs you, State Farm needs you!\" I was so startled, I couldn't respond. He then took a deep breath, calming himself: \"You are so much more important than you know. You, are the key to the entire system!\"\n\n\"I just sell insurance...\"\n\n\"Exactly! You sell insurance. You. You sell insurance, Jim. Not me. You.\" He got out of his seat, and walked over to me. He then leaned forward, putting his face inches from mine: \"You are going to be a goddamn State Farm employee. I need you to say it.\"\n\n\"Uh I-I don't-\"\n\n\"SAY IT GODDAMMIT\"\n\n\"I-I am going to be-\"\n\n\"LOUDER\"\n\n\"I AM GOING TO BE A STATE FARM EMPLOYEE\"\n\nHe smiled, then went back to his seat. " ]	1
	[WP] Most of humanity is wiped out in a cataclysmic event which destroys all records of current civilization except for a large collection of stock photos. They are discovered thousands of years later and are the only evidence of previous human civilization.	[ "\"Xel, come here, you gotta see this!\" The lone data storage that we had found on our expedition had taken days to read by our most advanced computer, but it had worked!\n\n\"Qel, what is it?\" \n\nI pointed my front arm at the display. \"Look.\"\n\n\"By the goddess...\"\n\n\"There were intelligent creatures here! Look at these photos!\"\n\nSlowly, one by one, the photos began rendering. We immediately began speculating on the species that once lived on this brown rock.\n\n\"Three genders, one with blonde, one with brunette, and one with red hair.\"\n\n\"Possibly more, these latest ones have multiple colors of hair but appear far less often than the first three!\"\n\n\"Yes! Excellent point! Look at the skin! So many different colors!\"\n\n\"Skin sure, but look at their mouth areas! They can make a crescent shape with them!\"\n\n\"Symbols! I think this one was a sign for an emotion, the archaeologists on nearby planets were more fruitful in their searches and should have more information.\"\n\n\"Wonderful, wonderful!\" Xel drew in a sharp gasp of air.\n\n\"What is it?\"\n\n\"Look at the containers they are holding. Look at all the different kinds of vegetation they are holding. Some are even... eating it!\"\n\n\"Their vegetation wasn't poisonous? What a strange planet this must have been!\"\n\nA few weeks later at a press conference...\n\n\"After careful deliberation with our colleagues doing expedition on nearby planets, we can confirm that the third Sol planet, \"Earth,\" was unlike its neighbors in that it consisted only of happy, healthy, humans with chest attachments. Thank you.\"", " Instagram database was loaded into the official server. Scientists of our colony claimed they found evidence of a previous civilization, not like ours, they weren't homogenous, they werent similar, they were diferrent and they were huge in population.\n\n\nPeople had mixed reactions, the elders said it was all fabrications, the politicians were afraid it could made us leave The Bunker, but most, like myself, had an inoccent anxiety, mixed with fear and hope. How would they look like? How did the world look back than? Was there anything beyond fire,sand and metal?\n\n\nI was assigned with @meelizabethprincess account. I just coundn't understand how someone would be called \"meelizabeth\", all my friends were reporting the same thing, young_thug, connor2000, oceanlife, so far the only thing I knew about this people, was that they have a bad taste for names, thankfully, my mother game me a beatiful one, Xeniah. Every single concept about then changed when I log in.\n\nI had to stop myself from shouting, and I'm sure everyone felt the same way, meelizabeth looked like us, but better than us, and that was the consensus, this people had colour! Can you believe it? Her skin was brownish and hey eyes were blue, her hair made me feel envious, carressing my short black hair, as I tried to imagine how incredible it must feel to have a long, beatiful and colorful one.\n\nHow she looked was just the tip of the iceberg. She and her humans companions would eat something called \"fruits\", looked delicious, her pictures of plates full of diferrent alimentations made me trip. Where all of this came from? But food wound't compare on the dispair I felt when I saw she and her friends jumping on waters that would fall from mountains, that wasn't possible,to get water we had to dig the soil on the Distant Lands, some people wound even die doing that, and there she was, having fun. I was shocked, paralyzed, I felt a tear drop on my suit.\n\nI spent the night awake, thinking about what happened to then, it was amazing, the resources, the coulour, the life, why did it have to go? Radiation was so strong out there that only people with the resistance could do the dangerous job, the rest of us had to stay inside, and wonder, and watch life passing by, where did it all go wrong?\n\nI had more assigments, but I didn't log in, the images are beatiful, but they brought that to us, we live in a shade of their past, I remain on my globe watching the stars, wishing they had more time to make things diferrent.\n\n-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nGuys, this is my first prompt, hope you like it!\n" ]	2
How would some of the most epic or iconic scenes would look from the player's perspective?	[WP] Your favorite movie/series/videogame is actually a tabletop RPG. The author is the GM and the main cast are his/her players...	[ "\"I attempt a dribble\" Hotshot explains\n\n\"Very well, roll a dexterity check\" the GM replies\n\nHotshot throws his dice \"16, with my bonus that is a total of 19\"\n\nThe GM rolls his dice behind his gm screen. \"You dribbling skill are to strong and best the enemies frontal defense.\"\n\n\"There is no way you are getting past that goalie without a setup.\" Roadhog interjects.\n\n\"Yeah especially at this angle, How high up is Octane again?\" Hotshot asks\n\n\"Halfway up, so like 25 feet.\" the GM replies, suspicious of Hotshots plan.\n\n\"That is too far, pass it back to me and I will hit it.\" Roadhog says \"I will start boosting center field right now\"\n\n\"Sounds good, Octane what will you be doing this turn?\" The GM asks.\n\n\"I am going to continue up the wall.\" he says\n\n\"Umm, okay whatever. So their outer defense got scrambled in their last turn and looses control\" The GM rolls more dice in secret \"Yeah he is way out there now, not a problem, their second defender is going to try and steal the ball from you\" He rolls again \"Bah, he hits it straight up and centered, that is a clear shot for you Roadhog. The goalie is getting ready for a ground shot.\"\n\nRoadhog takes his dice in hand and says \"Easy shot.\" His dice are thrown and his face is in shock \"A natural 1 are you kidding me!\"\n\n\"You fly past the ball, completely missing it!\"\n\n\"I am going to try and bash the goalie out of the way, not letting him get an easy shot on our goal!\" Hotshot says rolling his die \"Oh no, a 5! well with my bonus that is 7, I am going to guess I miss him don't I?\"\n\n\"Yep, the goalie easily dodges your ramming attempt and you go flying into the goal, upside-down.\"\n\n\"Welp that's game.\" Hotshot exclaims\n\n\"I want to take the shot.\" Octane says.\n\n\"You are 50 feet away, on the ceiling and at an acute angle to the goal.\"\n\n\"I got full boost.\"\n\n\"Fine, but that is a -8 circumstance penalty\"\n\nThe dice fly. \"18, plus my bonus and minus the penalty makes a 13\"\n\n\"That is just enough to hit, but it is a bad shot you will need one hell of a roll to pull this one off.\"\n\nHotshot and Roadhog are holding their breath as Octane rolls one more time. There is a gasp of shock, followed by laughter from the whole group. After flailing around the entire match, Octane finally got a good roll on the only shot that mattered." ]	1
	[WP] You find evidence that "mother earth" is more literal than we know - the reason the planet is experiencing tragedy, disaster, and climate change is because with each human born, mother earth loses some of her life force.	[ "In retrospect, it's kinda weird that we learned about it from TV. You'd expect Twitter to inform us first. But no, it was a man speaking on television who revealed the true nature of our world. The president of the United States, no less.\n\n\"My fellow Americans! it is with great trepidation, that I must inform you of a recent discovery by our great country's scientists.\"\n\nAt the time, we weren't particularly worried. Ever since president Chris Pratt took office in the 2016 election, things had gone pretty swell, most wars throughout the world had ceased, world hunger was mostly taken care of, and overall, everything had gotten better.\n\nWell, except for the massive overpopulation, countless ecological and environmental disasters, climate change tearing our planet apart, and scattered reports of cats and dogs raining from the sky.\n\nBut despite that, we thought we were doing ok. Even as president Pratt told us about how the ocean had enveloped Florida, we couldn't feel angry that climate change was slowly consuming the world. Not when he flashed that charming smile (plus, the trailer for Guardians of the Galaxy II looked really good).\n\nThe TV continued on; \"So the thing is, we have some good news, and some bad news. The good news is that we were totally wrong about fossil fuels! That's right! Go outside to your car, and build that gas-guzzling fury road dream ride you've been planning! It can't harm the atmosphere! Also, it turns out the ozone layer isn't a thing! Go grab your CFC's and spray them into the sky! Spray it everywhere! Have an awesome time!\"\n\nThe sales for gasoline and products containing chlorofluorocarbons skyrocketed within minutes. Nobody particularly needed them- in the past two years supreme president of the U.S. Chris Prat had turned the country into an Eco-friendly utopia, but most of us felt the need to anyway, so as to exercise our new freedom to pollute.\n\n\"But there is some bad news,\" the TV continued in Chris Pratt's Oscar-deserving voice, \"turns out, 'mother earth' wasn't a metaphor, and people being born saps its life force.\"\n\nIn a moment, the world was silent, both in horror at the true nature of things, and in anticipation for his solution (besides, everyone on earth, regardless of language, faith, or creed, loved watching Chris Pratt on TV).\n\nHe continued: \"So basically, either we have to stop having babies...\"\n\nThere was an audible gasp, though to this day I'm not sure if I gasped, or if we, as a species, gasped in unison to express our horror at the implications.\n\n\"...or we'll have to cut down the population, by-\" He stopped to look down at his cue cards. \"Legalizing murder. That's right people, we're doing the Purge, irl.\"\n\nIf it were anyone else, we would've been horrified by the statement. \"IRL?\" It's a presidential speech, in verbal form! Why not simply say \"In real life?\".\n\nBut it was coming from Chris Pratt, who voiced the protagonist in The Lego Movie. All was instantly forgiven.\n\n\"Because of this, we are putting it to a vote. Chris Pratt out!\" and it cut to commercial.\n\nThe vote was nearly unanimous. Between sex and violence, we chose violence. The alternative to these two options was to sterilize the majority of the population, but even our great president Chris Pratt, loved for his hilarious antics on Parks and Recreation, hadn't managed to fix our health care system, making that option far too expensive.\n\nWas it worth it? I'd tell you, but I have no time left. Chris Pratt's war band is leaving soon, and if I do really well, he'll let me ride the war rig." ]	1
	[Wp] Earth is a multigenerational prison created for Adam and Eve who were sentenced to 180 generations. You receive a message, along with the rest of the planet, that your time has been served and all will be teleported back to your mother planet.	[ "180 generations. That's how I've been punished. There is no explanation, no words to describe the cruelty of my sentence. I stood, facing my elders with tears in my eyes. Through my clouded vision I could see their bafflement at the clear display of emotion I was showing.\n\nHow could I describe the pain of losing a child, because I was not able to feed it in time. The pain of frostbite and cold that wraps you so intently until you think you're hot enough to take your clothes off? The excruciating death of a loved one, darkened by a disease you scarcely understand. The overwhelming feeling of never being whole, of always trying to find your soulmate? The greed, the destruction, the despair? I've killed myself a thousand, thousand times. I've split my very soul in two in an infinite amount, and loved it with every fibre of my being. I've loved, lost, howled and hated.\n\nMy sentence may have lasted 180 generations, it wasn't until I had served it, that I realised... I am one. The cruelty wasn't time, it was the knowledge that I've always been alone. Solitary confinement with nothing but myself to keep me company.\n\n\"So... How do you feel?\"\n\n\"I feel everything. Nothing. I feel alone, yet I'm finally together. I would say I feel regret, your honour. But I don't. I finally feel complete.\"\n\n\"Good. You are free now.\"\n", "There's a long history on our tiny blue mote of crazy old men living on the tops of mountains. Their reasons are not all the same, but in the end they are all looking for something else. Something outside the constructs of our societies. \n\n\nBalthazar was a mountain hermit. If you asked him why, he would tell you it was to gain enlightenment. To achieve a higher state of knowledge. To be at one with nature. The reality was simpler, he hated Chad. That fucker stole his wife, stole his company, stole his family. Even stole his goddamned dog. Fuck Chad.\n\nSo Balthazar had done what he'd always done when faced with an impossible situation. He ran away. As far as he could, far from every one. And he sulked. He was very good at sulking. However, life on a mountain top was not all sunshine and bitterness: his daily chores demanded too much time away from his sulking. \n\nHe needed wood for his fire too keep him warm. Not a difficult task, his mountain was heavily wooded. But it was physical. And he hated physical work. Isolation had its price, and he paid it. Paid it so he could sulk, and be miserable. Balthazar was the worst kind of hermit.\n\nIt was on his way home from one of the many tasks he needed to complete to at least keep trying to be human, when he heard a completely alien noise. It was a popping sound that was not unlike giant sheets of industrial bubble wrap being twisted and popped at once. He frowned. He forgot how much he'd loved popping bubble wrap. Fuck Chad. He frowned again, the work had taken his mind off of his former partner, his former wife, his former life, his former dog. He would need to spend more time sulking to get back into his appropriate level of spite. He sat down, and closed his eyes.\n\nPracticing his breathing, he tried to meditate. \"I am breathing in one two three. I am breathing out one two three. Slowly, the mountain top faded to darkness as he watched his thoughts drift passed him. Some times he would hold on to one for a moment before letting it go and flow by. A smell caught his memory, and the face of Anna Kendrick filled his perspective. Shit.\n\n\"I'm leaving you Bal, I can't take this any more\", he said. His wife did not look like Anna Kendrick. \"You're such a miserable fuck. You blame every one else for your troubles. I'm not even going to pretend it's not you. It is. You drain every bit of pleasure out of your life and any one around you. Chad is taking control of the company so you don't drive it in to the ground. You've been lucky that he knows what he's doing. Chad...\" The face of Anna Kendrick smiled in a way Balthazar recognised from their early relationship. A dreamy contented smile, followed by dreamy contented sigh.\n\n\"Fuck Chad!\" Balthazar opened his eyes and stormed back to his pathetic little cabin at the top of the mountain. He had long since learned to tune out the beauty of the Vistas that surrounded him at every turn. And so he didn't notice the pillars of smoke rising in the distance, ink stains on nature's oil painting of dusk. \n\nAnd he heard the popping again. Fucking Chad. Why was he always making his life worse? More popping, louder now. Finally it he realized that the sound was real, and not the memory of a sensory fetish he used to indulge in, and grew curious. He followed the sound right into the centre of his small, dark, dank, one room cottage. Cottage is a bit misleading though, as it was a structure he had build himself, by hand, reluctantly.\n\n\nThe object was glowing, and floating, and had an aura of effervescence. Like some one had carbonated the air it sat in because it's buoyancy was just enough to suspend it there. In the air. The carbonated air popped and fizzled like a fresh bottle of Dr. Pepper. None of that fountain drink crap. This was the kind of fizz you get out of a bottle. The glowing icon looked familiar. Like something he'd left behind. It was the size and shape of a folded price of paper, with blazing lines of fire crisscrossing it's surface. A red circle with a number 1 was over the top corner. \n\nInstinctively, he reached out for it. And it disappeared when his fingers passed through the envelope. \n\n\"Greetings,\" a voice rang clearly in his ears, while text he didn't recognise, but still understood, burned in the air in front of him, \"thank you for your stay on penal planet 34-RTH. With your generation, the sentence of 180 generations of multigenerational imprisonment has been fulfilled. Your ancestors debt to the Pan-Galactic Republic of Sentient Beings has been paid, and you will all be free to go. Please heed this time your species has spent in incarceration. It was a direct result of your progenitors willful and deliberate acts of self uplift, against the protocol set forth by the Awakening of Lower Beings Act of 4B65M-IMPCT. Individuals A-Dam, and E-Ve we imprisoned on 34-RTH for self uplift. \n\nWe of the PGRoSB would like to thank those you call Dolphins, Corvids (nee. Jackdaws), and Ants for their efforts in maintaining and guarding your people since the beginning of your incarceration. \n\nWhat do you do now? \n\nYour people will be be transported to the Centre for Re-integration at Tau Ceti Prime. There, you will have your memories and knowledge extracted, assessed, and reintegration, with inclusion of proper mores and behavior befitting a Pan-Galactic citizen. Once you have beeno processed, you will be assigned a purpose by one of our Big Floating Heads. They will have lived your life, and will place you where you will be most comfortable living out the remainder of your days. You will be placed in accordance with your strengths and capabilities. Some of you will be happy, some of you will even be given permission to continue breeding. Truly a seminal moment for your people!\n\nThank you again for your time on penal planet 34-RTH, please fill out the feed back form once your re-integration has be completed. Have a nice life, and welcome to the PGRoSB\".\n\nThe voice and flaming letters faded. Balthazar collapsed on the floor of his hovel. This was not his first hallucination since retreating to the mountain top. It was the first one that didn't involve Chad. But this was something else completely. \n\nDarkness filled his vision, and he saw unending space stretching before his tiny mind. Civilizations of untold numbers stretch across eons out away from Balthazar and his tiny hill on his tiny blue dot. He would never see the earth again.", "I've been on earth longer than I care to remember. I have seen the rise and fall of empires. I have seen the rise and fall of endless, ridiculous internet trends. My name is Nathan and I'm am just so sick of it all. \n\nI am cursed with longevity. My great, great, whatever grandfather was Noah. Yes, the Noah, built some fucking boat, saved a few animals, now he's famous. There is debate in the family about whether he stole the boat plans from his cousin or not. I think he did. Either way, I was cursed by his blood with longevity.\n\nI have no wish to be part of some new ark on some new planet. I'm old, I've seen all I want to see, I will not allow myself to be teleported.", "We came down a few rotations after the message was sent, flying down through smoggy air and tall structures that seemed far too frivolous for just two people. \n\nThese guys had been busy.\n\nThat's when we saw them. All of them. We did a quick numbers check, gasped, and did another. \nI radioed HQ for advice.\n\n\"What do you mean there's 10 billion of them?\"\n\nWe had no response to that. There had just been two of them, both of the opposite sex. There was no possible way that they could reproduce, it was unheard of.\n\nThat's when we saw all the flora and fauna on the rest of the planet. Sexual reproduction. Go figure. Our scientists would have a field day.\n\nWe quickly established contact with their world leaders, told them of the situation, and if they could kindly hand over their progenitors for release. They practically laughed at us.\n\nThe Terrans have short lifespans as a result of the oxygen rich atmosphere in which they thrive and depend upon. Already our ship was pinging warnings about corrosion to our instruments. \n\nThis planet was deadly. It had ultimately killed the prisoners it was allocated to imprison. And yet here their children were, flourishing.\n\nWe didn't know what to do. We did the only thing we could do. \n\n\"False Alarm HQ, problem with the instruments. The prisoners managed to escape the planet, are now searching rest of the galactic system.\"", "\"It explains a lot.\"\n\n\"You're turning all philosopher on me now?\" I said. I downed my beer and asked the bartender for another. Between serving, he was watching the usual Red Sox shenanigans on the wall-mounted TV. As a Brit living in Boston, Massachusetts, for ten years, I'd never got used to the sweet light beer Americans served up in their traditional bars. How I longed for a good pint of crafted British real ale. Still if I complained I'd probably just be asked to fix my teeth.\n\nBesides, one: tonight was definitely the night for getting drunk.\n\nBesides, two: you don't mess with your fellow inmates.\n\nI snickered to myself at that. The bald, fat dope sitting at the corner of the bar, trying to engage me in conversation, resumed his fanciful theories.\n\n\"Yeah, it explains a lot,\" Fat Boy said. \"Why it's always been so fuckin' impossible to be happy in this life. Think about it.\"\n\nI sighed, received my third bottle of Bud gratefully, and made the necessary gesture for the bartender to get my new friend one.\n\n\"I mean you get married, all you get is shit all your life. You work hard all your life, all you get is shit. Money don't buy you happiness. All you get is a load of fuckin' responsibility comes with it.\"\n\nPolishing a glass, the bartender nodded miserably.\n\n\"All I'm saying,\" Fat Boy continued, \"is it's no fuckin' surprise it turns out we've been living in a prison all this time. Life sucks. Why shouldn't it all be a prison? I bet Trump knew too. I bet Trump was leading up to telling us just before the presidential election.\"\n\nJesus.\n\n“Not that there’ll be an election now, of course,” he said, somberly, before perking up again at the Bud I'd bought him. \"Thanks. You're British, right?\"\n\nNo, I'm fuckin' Canadian, I thought-replied in my best Johnny Lydon.\n\n\"Excuse me,\" I said instead, \"I need to get some air.\"\n\nI negotiated the pool tables, the clash of balls only reinforcing my sudden nausea. I staggered for the exit, drunk on my own misery. All around the walls were hung bright red banners advertising PREXIT: The Last Party on Earth. The Day Before Release: 8/21/2016.\n\nPREXIT, really? The Americans were putting a gloss on it, like most things where they could make the odd dollar. It was as if the mass teleportation of 7.4 billion people into the intergalactic unknown was just another Disney adventure to them.\n\nIt was then I bumped into her. The girl with whom I would later bring four children into the world. Except this world would long ago have turned into a dystopian wasteland. Our lives would become a daily fight for survival in a city that would come to more resemble Stalingrad than the crown of Massachusetts.\n\nOf course I didn’t know all that now.\n\n“Sorry,” I said. Our bottles had clinked in the soft collision.\n\n“That’s okay,” she said. “You going?” She had noticed my blankly gazing at the banner.\n\nThe girl was pretty. 20s. Blonde. Of course, nice teeth: she was American.\n\n“Er, I dunno.”\n\n“You must go,” she said. “Why are you Brits always so damned miserable?”\n\n“We can never afford the dental fees.”\n\nShe laughed. Transferring her bottle of Coors, she proffered a delicate right hand to shake. I was attracted like a magpie by the elegant little silver bracelet she wore.\n\n“Paula,” she said. “Paula Revere. No jokes, please.”\n\n“Too late,” I said. “The aliens are coming.”\n\nShe laughed again.\n\n“I’m Greg. Greg Orr. Can I get you a drink?”\n\n“Later, maybe,” she said. “I’m with friends over in the corner.”\n\nSuddenly we both ducked and fell into each other’s arms as a thunderous roar boomed just above the street outside. The bar’s front windows shattered. Screams from inside and outside.\n\nIt was as if a jet fighter plane had suddenly performed a strafing dive the entire length of Broadway.\n\nBut that was no jet fighter. Black, sleek and deadly, I recognized the spaceship even as I glimpsed it only peripherally.\n\nOur new prison guards were reminding us that they were in charge here. And would remain so until everyone had been teleported off Earth. Either alive or in coffins.\n\nSomehow I felt a Prexit party celebration would be premature. Still, the warmth and smell of Paula’s body, her proximity, was unerringly pleasurable.\n\nThese humans could indeed be comforting to the senses. \n" ]	5
	[WP] Write a story about vampires but nothing I'd expect	[ "Hi there. Hopefully my story is different enough for you. I hope you like it :)\n\nTmarak The Vile slowly opened his hypersleep-encrusted eyes. He was lying on his back in the stasis pod and the lid to the canopy was open. He took a moment to take in his surroundings and allow time for his vision to adjust to the deep shadows of the interior. He was soon able to discern scattered ice and stalactites where they clung tightly to the ceiling of the spacecraft.\n\nDormant senses awakened within him and the sensation coursed through his body. He was soon able to hear, smell and even taste his surroundings once again. He uncoiled his long, withered limbs from the confines of the stasis pod and sat upright. His flesh was even greyer than was usual and his body was even more lean and wiry from the restricted nourishment of the journey. Yet, he could feel his strength rapidly returning, filling him with familiar power. \n\nWith the return of sensation came the return of The Hunger. The merest whisper of it caused his teeth, unwilled, to elongate and sharpen, his jaw stretched to accommodate the lethal needles. His long fingers began to curl into talons and the tops of his ears grew pointed. He willed the metamorphosis away. His servants and underlings were elsewhere in the ship, perhaps also rising from sleep. He did not wish to cause undue apprehension among them, yet he could not deny the insistence of the hunger upon him.\n\nHe suppressed a brief grunt of pain as he exited the stasis pod and rose to his feet. Pins-and-needles a thousandfold in intensity ripped through his heightened nerve endings. \n\nWith purpose, he strode from The Lords Chamber into the adjacent room and approached the nearest pod. He guided his long fingernails under the canopy and tore back the lid. Lying therein was a sleeping pink body, fat and flushed with the life essence he craved. He vaguely recognized the face as that of his cousin’s child. It was of no matter, they were all lambs for his slaughter and sheep for his bidding. He paused briefly. It occurred then to Tmarak that he may have need of this one. To defile the body of a kinsman (no matter how far removed), would create some resentment and unrest amongst the lambs. Although he could quell any unrest with little effort, greater things were on his mind and he would prefer few distractions. Nay, he would ignore the beating of this one’s lifeblood pounding in his ears. He was the master of his own will and would not at this time succumb to his need. Allowing oneself to be dominated by whim and desire was the curse of the weak and the very reason they deserved to be dominated. He leaned over and drew his face close to the sleeping child and breathed in deeply. Ah yes, the unmistakable scent of vampyr blood, however diluted, yet flowed through this ones veins, and naught held such succor as the sweet sup of the blood of another vampire! Perhaps this one would provide a sweet treat another time.\n\nHe returned to the soft, comforting gloom of his chamber and drew on his Lordly robes. His keen Vampyr senses could detect only the soft hum of the operating systems. It seemed that the engines were not functioning. Perhaps they had reached their destination.\n\n* * \n\nHe silently cursed the mortal Lords of his homeworld. In their arrogance, they had risen up against him. Him! A powerful Lord in his own right. Aye, they had known what he was and they had feared him. Perhaps if he had not been so passionate in his bloodlust and pursuit of power... but he was Vampyr! The first of his kind and perhaps the only. A freak circumstance of his birth had made him what he was, a creature of such strength and power that he could not help but rule over lesser men.\n\nIn their hatred and jealousy, they had schemed to cut him down. He had been taken by surprise. Weakened from long battles and having not fed at great length, a thousand warriors armed with weapons of silver and engraved with holy runes, had fallen upon him. But ah, what a battle! Dozens had fallen, nay hundreds! Ripped apart in showers of blood and gore by his own hands. But they knew him too well and they knew his weaknesses and at last in his weakened state they had triumphed and overwhelmed him. They bound him tightly in heavy chains of pure silver and covered him with a shroud of holy runes. He had been unable to escape.\n\nBut they did not kill him. It was not in their nature. His blood was also of their blood and they could not destroy one of their own. Instead they imprisoned him in a high tower. They lay him on a stone table and chained him securely. And there they left him for 30 days with no food nor water, in order to weaken him further. Yes, they knew him well, these cursed Lords.\n\nIn time he was brought before the committee. Standing proud and defiant before them, he reached out with psychic tendrils of his Vampyr whisper, attempting to enter their minds, to coerce them into releasing him. Alas he was unsuccessful. He suspected the helmets they wore, were of pure silver. He could also discern holy runes carved into the surfaces. Yes, his weaknesses were known too well.\n\nHe was presented with a choice: He would be imprisoned for a hundred years whereupon he would be instructed in humility and compassion. His servants and thralls would be burnt at the stake, his titles and holdings stripped from him, but in the end he would be free to again join their society. \n\nOtherwise he could accept banishment from their world. He would be placed on a ship and launched to a far-off planet. His many servants and thralls would be permitted to go with him.\n\n\"Hah!\" He had cried. \"You call that a choice? What choice is that to one who desires life above all else? You dare this! You, who sit idly on your gilded thrones, plotting and scheming and rotting inside. A thousand lives I have lived, in only one lifetime! I have bathed in the blood of my enemies and gotten drunk on the sweet juices of victory, time and again! Were it not for this day, you would all bow before me. Release me from these bonds and we shall see who is meant to rule!\"\n\nHe paused. \"But alas i know it is not to be. I accept my fate. Banish me then! Send me far away that your stench shall never again foul my nostrils!\"\n\nAnd so it had come to pass. Servants had released his bonds during hypersleep. And thus he had arrived.\n\n * *\n\nThe ship’s sensors showed many life forms outside. Radiation, breathable air and gravity were very similar to his homeworld. Strangely there was no video feed, but it was clear there was much activity outside. This is good, he thought. A new people to conquer and feed upon. There was no fear in him, simply anticipation.\n\nEventually all on board came awake, servants, kinsmen and thralls alike. A select few Lieutenants were vampires of his own making, upon whom he had bestowed his precious gift. He gathered his followers around him and prepared to exit the ship and make his mark on this new world.\n\nHe pulled the hood of his cloak over his head and down low over his face. The dark cloth reflected no light, appearing as dark as infinity.\n\nThe bay doors opened and he, along with his followers took a step outside. \nHe was greeted by bright lights and strange machinery flying overhead. There was much noise and commotion. From somewhere unknown, a voice was shouting commands in a vaguely familiar but somewhat incomprehensible language.\n\nHe simply stood fast and patiently smiled. He reached out with the psychic tendrils of his coercive Vampyr whisper into the sentient minds that surrounded him. Their minds were weak and they succumbed easily. In moments, all around him was quiet and calm. And as he had done with each new land he had conquered, and whose population he had destroyed in violence and blood, he opened his arms wide, gazed about him and took a deep breath. Then in a voice that resonated to the mountains, he boomed: \n\n\"People of Earth. Behold your new Master!\"\n" ]	1
	[WP] Everyone can read every body else's thoughts. Except you. You can neither read nor be read. Write your view of this world.	[ "I'm something of a pariah. I mean it is obvious to me, even without being able to read peoples' minds. Oh sure it would be great to read my mother's mind or my father's, like every-fucking-other person on the planet. \n\nYeah you read that right. Everyone can read everyone's thoughts, except me. To make matters worse, no one can read my thoughts. In retrospect, that is probably a good thing. I've had some unsavory thoughts about Mrs. Wolf that I wouldn't want anyone to know. \n\nThings were going great, or at least not so terrible, until someone committed a murder. Normally, the ability to read another's thoughts immediately absolves the innocent parties involved. Normally, they never get the wrong guy. Normally. \n\nYou see where I am going with this? I'm not normal. So you can imagine when suspicion fell upon me, for the murder of Mr. Wolf, I was fucked. The thing that I don't understand, though, is why has no one figured out it wasn't me? \n\nThe investigation fell on me because the police couldn't find another suspect, I get that. However, someone had to know what happened, had to have seen what happened. Which, to me, suggests either everyone knew who the real killer was and agreed I'd be the patsy or, and this is what scares and excites me, there is someone else like me out there.\n\nI wasn't listening to the officers, not like I could really follow a conversation that went something like:\n\n\"Yeah,\" the blond officer said.\n\n\"Totally,\" the female officer said.\n\n\"No doubt,\" the blond officer said. I read his name plate, it said Moody. That made me chuckle.\n\n\"Book him,\" the female officer said. She was officer Barns.\n\n\"Yep,\" Moody said.\n\nSeriously, that is how every fucking conversation in the world felt to me. I mean it is no wonder I was always in trouble. When someone can't read your mind, they assume the worst of you. That time I was in the girl's locker room because Sally had dropped her book was a completely innocent mistake. You'd never know that from the berating I got. The punishment was actually better than the berating. Getting kicked out of school for a few days meant I didn't have to deal with the sideways glances and muffled whispers. Okay, so maybe I imagined that last bit, its not like anyone needed to whisper when they had the superhighway of collective thought going on.\n\nBack to Mr. Wolf. I didn't kill him. Oh sure I'd fantasized all kinds of things I'd like to do with his wife, but I didn't ever think of killing the man. Who does? How the fuck should I know. I don't even know what a normal thought process looks like. For all I know, my rampant sexcapades in my head are the signs of a delinquent mind. \n\nSo someone cut Mr. Wolf's throat. Mrs. Wolf woke up next to her slain husband. I'm not sure how they arrived at the conclusion that I had done the deed, but the police came over from next door. They had another of their \"Yep\" \"Oh yes\" \"Understood\" kind of conversations, that really left me feeling sort of bewildered and out of the loop. I mean, I knew what was going on, my mother tried, between sobs, to explain to me. What bothers me the most, is that neither of my parents stood up for me. It wasn't like they could, I guess. When your son, is the only person on Earth who can't read minds or have their mind read, its kind of a no-brainer who did the killing. At least, it is to everyone else. \n\nThe trial was a joke. Honestly, I should have just entered a plea of guilty and taken some kind of deal. However, as things go, I am usually kind of a stubborn idiot. No lawyer would take on my case, who would, it was a close and shut deal. So, it the matter of days, hurray for an efficient justice system, I was sitting a cell. I was in jail with real criminals, criminals whose minds I couldn't read. Ironically, that fact seem to put them as ill at ease as it did me. \n\nThat was six months ago. I'm sitting in this chair now, in a sterilized room. Why the hell do they even sterilize the room? It's not like a lethal injection puts me at risk for infection. I managed to survive nineteen years without being able to read anyone's mind, or anyone reading mine, but I could read the look on the executioners face. She had a sort of quirky smile, slightly tilted and just the hint of an upturn at the corner of her lips. She was looking me in the eye. Most people didn't do that. As she came over to me, I could smell her perfume. Which I found odd, because again, why the fuck would anyone wear perfume to an execution.\n\nShe leaned over me, honestly I wished she hadn't. My anatomy was not always cooperative, if you get my meaning. Then something really strange happened.\n\n\"This is a sedative,\" she whispered in my ear.\n\n\"What?\" I asked.\n\n\"Shh, don't speak,\" she replied. \"This is going to put you into a deep sleep.\"\n\nThose words were the most anyone had spoken to me in a a very long time. I just nodded my head. Whatever was happening, she wasn't going to kill me or, at the very least, I wasn't going to have to suffer through it. \n\n\"I know you're innocent,\" she said. I could have kissed her then. \"There are others like us.\"\n\nLike us? I thought. People who can't read minds...\n\nIt was almost too much for me. I nodded my head dumbly, and she injected the needle. I felt my world come crashing down in a haze of darkness. I had a brief moment of panic that this was all some elaborate ruse to make my passing more painful. Then I slept." ]	1
	[WP] Bored, you take out your calculator and divide by zero. It outputs an answer and within minutes, SWAT cars are outside your house	[ "I was incredibly bored on that Wednesday night, and was messing around with the calculator I always had next to me on my desk. I decided to divide 8 by zero just for laughs. Or really just one moment more of being semi-entertained before this calculator no longer was enough to keep me from my inevitable state of boredom, and would forever be useless once again. The answer came up on the screen. \n\n\"7\" \n\nSeven? This calculator must be broken. I should try some other things to see if it always gives the wrong answer. This would keep me from boredom for another 5 minutes at least. \n\nFive minutes later \n\n\"THIS IS THE POLICE! OPEN UP!\" \nOkay okay I'm coming, don't rush me. \n\"Where are the bodies hidden?\" \nOh yeah. Those. Oops.", "The little girl stood at the front of the class and coughed. Her teacher smiled and waved encouragingly. Taking heart, the girl launched into her Magnum Opus. \n\"What I did this summer by Jenny Able, aged seven.\" She looked up and smiled at her classmates, who responded with the usual bored expression of those listening to other people's stories. \n\"This summer, I found a calculator on the pavement outside my house. It was very fancy, and had a case and many buttons.\" \n\"I opened it and there were many flashing lights and buttons. I remembered a story Martin - my brother\" she clarified, to the relief of the class. They didn't need to listen to another tale about a name no-one knew. Maggie's had been the worst, especially when 'Sally' had been chopped up and eaten without it being noted Sally was a chicken. \n\"My brother told me that when you divide by zero, something magical happens. So I typed it in and pressed enter, but nothing seemed to happen.\" The class murmured; this seemed to be as bad as Blaize's story of when he found a penny and didn't pick it up. \n\"But then!\" Jenny grinned as they leapt at her exclamation. \"A bunch of people turned up in heli- helicopters, and slid down ropes. They seemed confused when I explained they had come due to dividing by zero.\" She coughed, a sound that echoed in the enraptured classroom. This was more like it. \n\"They stood around some more, and called out my Dad. Then some cars turned up and a tall man came over. He said he was the president, and thanked me for my service in finding his calculator, although he called it a football. He gave me a medal.\" Jenny reached into her top and pulled out the medal on a ribbon. Her smile grew as the class oohed at the sight of it. \n\"After that, they left with the calculator. Then Dad took me for icecream, and I had three scoops!\" She concluded on the high point of the day. The teacher shook herself from the reverie of the tale. \n\"Yes, thank you Jenny. Everyone give her a round of applause. Next up it's George. George?\" George sighed inwardly as he stood up. His story about his turtles was going to seem very boring after that." ]	2
	[WP] You filed a national presidential candidacy—for fun. You actually won.	[ "It was never supposed to be this way. I was never supposed to be sitting in the freaking White House preparing to give the world a speech!\n\nRewind to 2 months ago and I'm with my friends, drunk. \"Hey Johnny you should vote yourself for president\" my friend said while taking a swig from his bottle \"yeah! I'll do that\" I replied with a drunken smile, and now back to present. Now like any drunk man I obviously did that and that's how I ended up in the presidents chair \"ohhhh man this is bad, I'm shy to talk to a girl and now I'm going to talk to the entirety of America and I'm probably going to be broadcasted on -\". \"Mr. President? They're waiting for you.\" My new secretary said. \"Oh well screw it lets just say the normal speech about how I'm honored\" I said to myself. I get up and walk to the front door, open it and immediately cameras start flashing as I walk towards the stage where I would make my speech. And when I reach everything just stops, no sounds just nothing as the world waits. ahem \"I am -\" I suddenly stopped I felt a sudden warmth spread starting from my heart, my limbs were suddenly numb suddenly I fell to my knees,the color started to fade away and as my sight faded I could see one thing. Donald trump smiling, knowing that he has another shot." ]	1
	[WP] The damned are rescued from Hell and brought back to Earth, but their suffering doesn't end.	[ "“We’re almost there, now shut up, I’m trying to listen.” Joel said, his hands resting lazily on the steering wheel as he drove himself and his two sisters to the valley of fire.\n\t\n“I’m so bored of this book Joel, like, ready to jump out the window bored. Can we please listen to some music?” Andrea said, her voice monotone and gritty. She’d been going through a phase recently where the closer she looked to being dead, the better she felt about herself. She sat with her feet against the dash, the hood up and hands covered by the much-too-long sleeves on her hoodie.\n\t\n“…” was all Melissa had to add, she’d been asleep for the last couple of hours, having lost interest in the audiobook Joel had put on almost immediately after they’d set out from their home in Alhambra, Arizona.\n\nJoel sighed, pushing himself upright from the slouched position that he’d slowly adopted over the last four hours of driving. “We’re going to see the Valley if Fire, I thought it would be interesting to listen to some accounts of the people who lived during the Resurgence.”\n\n“Everyone who is talking is ancient now. Like, deader than dead. Why should I care. Can we please listen to something else?” Andrea didn’t move. It felt to Joel like he was talking to a statue. A really obnoxious and pale statue.\n\n\"Chapter 5, The Day of Reckoning,\" a deep and resonant voice said over their car sound system. “Here we go, all that other stuff was all the sign leading up to the day it actually happened. Now we get the good stuff. Give it a chance Andy, I know it’ll interest you. You’re all about Hell and stuff, right?”\n\nThis prompted a sudden intake of breath and movement from the seat next to Joel. Andrea turned and shot him a look. “My name isn’t Andy. Also, I’m not all about Hell and stuff or whatever you said. Death isn’t Hell. Death is release and purity and love and more than you can understand with your stupid head!” Andrea finished her monotone but surprisingly vocal rant and turned back to her brooding.\n\n“Well, it’s my car and my stereo and I wanna listen to it, so you can put up and shut up.”\n\nA woman’s voice started to fill the cab of the car. She sounded young, not much older than Joel, maybe 25 at the oldest. Granted this recording was undoubtedly seventy-five years old. The Resurgence happened in 2018 and it was 2095 now. It had taken the united power of every major nation on the planet to bring some sort of order to the chaos that had followed the return of those Hell bound spirits, but after the world’s longest five years, in 2023 they had managed to restrict the returned to what was once Mexico. The Valley of Fire.\n\t\n\"I…I don’t really know what to say. Everyone got texts and every social media network has been spamming messages to stay inside your home and to wait for the military to arrive. I don’t know what is happening. The voice paused for a second. Some soft mumbling was heard then she began to speak again. I have been sitting here for the past two days, bored to death. Some people have been posting pictures to Instaface. There are a lot of them. Most of them are just blurry pictures of fire, but it looks like in some of them there are people inside the flames. Maybe it’s a terrorist attack? I wouldn’t be too surprised. Freaking North Koreans, setting people on fire. So heathen.\"\n\nSome crackling on the recording is followed by the woman’s voice again. This time is sounds more tired. She sighs deeply and pauses before speaking again. \"Well…I’m really kicking myself for all the times I laughed at Mitch for being so churchy. I…I think this is it. It’s the end. People have started to identify some of the burning people and…damn. I don’t even know what to say. I mean I guess there is a Hell…and it was full? I have seen some of the pictures people have taken, the ones that are really clear, and they look for all the world like they’re real and not shopped. The police are still roaming the streets, bringing food and supplies to people, but we still aren’t allowed to leave. The woman pauses again as a siren begins to sound. She waits as the siren grows louder and then slowly fades away. I mean…why, if there is a God, would he send these people back here? I mean, isn’t Hell where Hitler is supposed to burn? Not downtown Las Vegas?\"\n\n“Hitler was never confirmed.” Andrea’s voice was soft and contemplative. She’d been listening, though she’d never admit interest. Interest was too much a living emotion, not nearly dead enough for her liking.\n\n“Yeah, but do you really think he needs confirming? Like, c’mon.” Joel said as he put his blinker on and started to pull into the left turn lane. They’d finally made it. The border was a few switchbacks away.\n\n“Death is the only judge, and last I checked, you aren’t carrying a scythe.” Andrea mused, her hands gesturing toward Joel and his lack of farm implements.\n\n“There are millions, even billions of Returned, there is no way to ID them all. Lots of them are pretty deformed too, so chances are he’s down there, unknown and burning away like a candle.”\n\nIt was starting to get dark and ice was forming on the windows. The desert was always colder at night, but this winter had been particularly chilly. The car pulled back and forth as they climbed steadily upward. It was 300 feet of elevation in only about 500 feet of distance, so the grade was pretty steep. As they went Melissa stirred and woke, the repeated turning of the switchbacks having knocked her head against the window.\n\n“Uhhhgggg….Joel……..Why did you do that…I was asleep.” She said, wiping her hand across her face.\n\n“And snoring.” Andrea said.\n\n“Well its good you’re awake, we’re almost there and you’re the best with the camera.” Joel said as he turned the last switchback and started slowing as they approached the turn off.\n\nThe group of travelers got out of the car and walked up to the railing. As they got closer and closer they felt the heat of the valley against their faces, warm and pleasant in the cold of February. The glow of the valley illuminated the clouds above them, casting the world in an orange light.\n\n“Ooo,” Melissa said, “it’s like sitting by the fire at the cabin!” She began to jog the last little distance to the edge, slowing as she fiddled with the camera, getting ready to document their journey.\n\nJoel and Andrea kept their pace. They’d both been to the Valley of Fire overlook before. It wasn’t anything they hadn’t seen, but it had become something of a family tradition to visit. Even after their parents had died, they’d made time every year to come out and spend a little time with the damned.\n\nAs they arrived at the railing, Joel, who had always been the one to adhere to the traditions most strictly, read the plaque resting on a stone monument.\n\n\n“In commemoration of those who died on the day of the Resurgence and the five years following. Their selfless sacrifice for the good of all mankind will never be forgotten.”\n\nJoel then read the excerpt from President Trumps address given at the wall back when it was finally finished.\n\n“This wall, initially to keep America Great, has served a greater purpose. It has given us a place to put the damned. A fitting end to my presidency.”\n\nThe three walked closer to the railing and looked down the side of the wall. From where they stood they could see countless lights, flickering and dancing. Their whole field of vision was filled with the returned, burning as they walked aimlessly around.\n\n“I always forget how…beautiful this place is.” Andrea said as she pulled her hood further over her face.\n\n“I know sis,” Joel said as he put his arm around her, “I know.”\n" ]	1
	[WP] You have the power to reverse time but when you do a different timeline is created and a clone takes your place. When you die you meet all the clones who you screwed over.	[ "Amy sighed into the soft darkness, looking at herself. Several of herselves.\n\n\nMost of them were young Amys. There were nearly a dozen elementary school girls, and over twenty middle schoolers. She’d just been figuring out how to make her powers work then. She used to be so frustrated. Young Amy was convinced that she could live the perfect life if she could just make things go her way, always.\n\n\nDead Amy walked along rows of blank-faced children until she came to one that was near the end of adolescence.\n\n\nHigh School Amy was a little more clever than Young Amy. If she couldn’t exactly control when the power would go off, she would make the best of the times it did. High School Amy went from living in a lower-middle class family to being a fabulously wealthy investor in just a few weeks.\n\n\nBut like any teenager, money wasn’t enough. She wanted fame and admiration; the respect of adults. Sixteen-year-old Amy received an honorary doctorate from Harvard for her mythical instinct in Economics. The Department of Defense considered her one their greatest assets for terror prevention. All around the world, men and women learned to applaud the West’s greatest prodigy.\n\n\nShe dined with the Hollywood elite on Tuesdays, and had her pick of the most attractive ones. She could never make them stay though. For all her supposed brilliance, most were turned off by Amy’s childish personality. She still sneered and preened like a glory-drunk cheerleader. Her conversation held none of the depth that comes from understanding others.\n\n\nDead Amy spat at the feet of High School Amy. Still so naive, still so pathetic. She moved her gaze to the next set of cadavers.\n\n\nTwenty-year-old Amy felt her lack keenly. She gravitated to the ass-kissers, to those who would grovel and turn a blind eye to her faults. She took bitter revenges against those that had dared to scorn her and fell deeper into vanity.\n\n\nAmy gained more control over her power as she grew older. Each year it got a little easier to feel when a time reversal would happen. She found she could nudge it further or shallower into the past. Her victories were more thorough, her revenges more pin-pointed. For all that, her life didn’t change much. She still used her powers in the same way with the same intents.\n\n\nDead Amy hit the end of the line. The last frozen Amy was just a few weeks younger than her, almost indistinguishable from herself. \n\n\nThe trouble with surrounding oneself with ass-kissers is that they aren’t much good at warning you off bad behaviors. Amy had had a crowd of her closest friends around when she drunkenly shot up for the first time. When the next time reversal had come, she had already been hooked.\n\n\nDead Amy felt hot tears down her face. It wasn’t fair. It couldn’t be fair. She’d had everything, everything but happiness. She rubbed her eyes and turned to shout at her old selves, but stopped.\n\n\nThey were growing. Each one was getting older, moving through their lives on fast-forward. There an accountant for a small company. Here was an engineer for General Electric. Both stopped growing as old women with content smiles.\n\n\nDead Amy saw that the older the Amy was when she started changing, the shorter her lifespan was and the more miserable she looked when she died. Teenaged Amy’s got much worse as they went on, and Twenty-year-old Amy’s were almost always dead by thirty.\n\n\nDead Amy looked at Last Amy and saw herself, blinking and awake.\n\n\n“If you could go back one last time and be a different Amy, would you?”\n\n\nIt wasn’t her voice, but it came out of her body. This voice seemed to ring like ice on crystal.\n\n\n“No.” she whispered to herself. All the anger had gone out her. Only despair was left.\n\n\nLast Amy nodded like she had expected the answer.\n\n\n“It never works. Maybe if you could only do it once or twice,” Last Amy motioned to some of the happier looking Amy’s. “But the unlimited always self-destructs.”\n\n\nDead Amy opened her mouth to ask why. Why did she have this power? Why did it ruin her life instead of make it better? Why did you do this?\n\n\nInstead time stopped. Last Amy looked at herself and sighed. She walked over to Youngest Amy and reached out.\n\n\n“Let’s roll the dice again.” she said softly." ]	1
	[WP] Everybody has a timer above their head telling them how much time they have left to live. When your flight takes off everyone's timer changes to 20 minutes.	[ "36:241:15:32:05 I closed my eyes for take off, an old habit, nervous about flying. I don't know why I still am, I have more than three decades before my death, this flight will go fine. I feel the plane drop slightly, than lift upwards as the wings, adjust for the climb to cruising altitude. \n \n20:00 The general quiet chatter of the other passengers changes, from murmmerings of plans for their destinations, to a curious note of concern. \n \n19:38 I open my eyes to the confused faces of my fellow travellers. Some of them wearing expressions of panic and alarm. \n \n19:23 That's when it strikes me; the hologramatic life counter above the man in the seat in front of me reads 19:23 and it's counting down. \n \n19:15 \"We're all going to die!\" A scream breaks the thin membrane keeping everying from complete chaos. \n \n19:01 Everyone begins screaming and yelling. A young couple across the aisle begin praying, like it will somehow make a difference. \n \n18:50 I rise from my seat, and take in the scene. Surprisingly most of the passengers are still seated. I suppose there's nowhere to run to, no escaping the inevitable. \n \n16:37 It only takes a minute or two for the flight attendants to calm everyone down to a acceptable level so they can begin final preparations. \n \n15:56 As they begin the standard speal of which channels of the onboard radio are playing which religion's last rites, I glance at each of the life counters above the heads of of the condemned souls. \n \n15:26 There! In the back row, a lone traveller of foreign appearance. His counter is 4 seconds faster than everyone else. \n \n15:14 I takes a bit to guess why that might be, but I figure he's about to commit suicide and take us all with him. Something needs to be done. \n \n15:09 \"No Fate; but what you make\", I mumble to myself as I step into the aisle and walk towards the rear of the plane. \n \n15:01 I ignore the pleas of the flight attendant asking me to kindly retake my seat. \n \n14:43 I take the seat next to the foreigner. \n \n14:41 He glances at me, his eyes wide, clutching a small carry-on. \n \n14:36 I open the conversation. \"Hello, I guess today's the day, eh?\" \n \n14:33 He hesitates, then answers. \"It seems that God has decided, yes.\" \n \n14:29 \"And who are we to second guess his plans, right?\" \n \n14:26 \"Precisely.\" The conversation is stuttery given the looming spectre of death only a short time away. \n \n14:24 \"Why now?\" I ask.\n \n14:22 \"What do you mean? Why now?\" \n \n14:20 \"Clearly, you hadn't made up your mind before boarding the plane.\" I state calmly. \"You had to choose after takeoff, or you wouldn't be allowed on board.\" \n \n14:10 The man just starers at me, still clutching his luggage.\n\n14:09 I continue, \"Look, we've still got time. Is there anything you're going to regret if you do this?\" \n \n14:07 \"I have no regrets. I am ready for my afterlife.\" He says to me with eyes that lie. \n \n14:05 \"Nothing? No one?\" This is going to need a different tack. \n \n14:03 \"Listen, man. I appreciate your concern, but why are you evening speaking to me. I'm not doing anything here.\" he replies. \n \n14:00 Could I be wrong? He fits the profile, he is to die before the rest of us. I glance at his life counter again. 13:56 \n \n13:56 \"Well, let me tell you a story then.\"\n \n13:54 \"Will it take long?\", he laughs. \n \n13:52 Attemptng humour, that's good. I have a chance here.\n \n13:50 \"Maybe 20 minutes.\"\n \n13:55 I begin my tale. \"When I was a young man, my brother and I were playing on a frozen pond. It was spring, so rain had flooded the top of the ice maybe a few centimeters deep.\" \n \n13:59 Good but not enough interest. \"My father was a trapper you see, so we accompanied him when he checked his trap line for beaver. Bored as we were we began seeing how far we could slide on the watercovered ice.\" \n \n14:10 \"Well, we didn't know it at the time, but the current from the stream still flowed below the pond's frozen surface. In one spot it had thinned the ice so much it was weakened.\" \n \n14:25 \"My brother crossed safely, but I broke through the ice. the current pulling me under the edge of the hole. Franticly I grabbed at the rim, but it kept breaking away. I started to panic... knowing I was seconds away from drowning.\"\n \n14:59 \"That's when my brother dropped on his belly and reached out to me. He caught my hands, and held on, despite the creaking ice beneath him. He risked joining me in that watery trap.\"\n \n15:30 \"You see I was certain I was going to die; and he held my hand, until I was safe again. If I didn't have my brother that day I would probably have resigned to my fate and let the water take me under.\" \n \n16:36 \"But, I'm here.\" I say taking his hand. \"Today, right now. I'm your brother.\" \n \n36:241:10:32:05 Tears start flowing from his eyes." ]	1
	[WP] You wake up in the middle of the night for a glass of water only to find that all the dolls in your house are alive and have congregated in your living room. They are huddled together, then one of them slightly turns around and notices you...	[ "As I walk out of my room, I see a bunch of Jacob's (my son's) toys in the living room, accompanied with the sound of Jurassic World playing on the T.V \nGI-Joe turns around and catches a glimpse of my surprised expression. \n\"Hi there John, we're watching a movie right now, you mind talking to us later?\" \nMy expression quickly fades away. \n\"Fucking dammit.\" \nI lumber into the kitchen, pour myself a cup of water, and lazily shuffle back to bed. \nI made a mental note to not let Jake watch Toy Story on repeat anymore.\n" ]	1
	[WP] Make me sad!	[ "Two men in green uniform staggered slowly over a wide blasted plain. The plain stretched far to their left, right, back, and front. It stretched beyond the imagination. There were a few dead trees to break the monotony.\n\n\"I am dying.\" Yelts said. \n\n\"I envy you.\" Renard replied. \n\n\"Lay me down so that I may die.\" Yelts asked.\n\nRenard clasped Yelts's hand and gently let him fall to the dusty ground. \n\n\"Now bury me.\" Yelts said.\n\nAnd Renard began to dig the dirt with his uncovered hands. After a minute his hands began to bleed because he had not drank in many days. The dirt was hard and jagged, too. After twelve minutes Renard had dug enough to cover Yelts's body. There was not much dirt. Yelts's grave was a thin blanket of soil. But his face was still open to the air.\n\n\"I want to die under the stars.\" Yelts said.\n\n\"It is now midday. You will die before night.\" Renard said.\n\n\"I will die gently, though. God ought give me something in exchange. Give me company meanwhile.\"\n\nRenard sat down beside his friend. \"Where is Spots the dog?\" Renard asked.\n\n\"He is dead.\"\n\n\"Will you see him again?\"\n\n\"Hopefully; doubtfully. I have never seen death work in my favour.\"\n\n\"But someone must have.\"\n\n\"There is no one but the statisticians and scientists who claim death is good. But they are removed from life. Scholars - in their task to understand life - will cut it up and hang up its bits and call that an explanation. Death is doom.\"\n\n\"Then there must be an Old One who has seen death do good.\" Renard said.\n\n\"There is none.\" Yelts said.\n\nRenard looked around and saw a skinny rat scurrying by. He picked it up and dangled it by its tail in front of Yelts. \n\n\"What if this rat is as old as time. Then he would have seen death do good. There are no new things under the sun.\"\n\nBut Yelts shook his head along his dirt pillow. \"That rat will have not seen death do good. And he will be eaten by you for food. Then you will be older than him because that rat is your belly now. And can you say you have seen death do good?\"\n\nRenard said he had not.\n\n\"Then let me die miserably.\"\n\nNight arrived quickly and its cloak of twinkling stars followed soon after. \n\n\"On one of those billion stars death must have done good.\"\n\nYelts replied, \"I do not care.\" His voice was thin and weak; hardly a whisper. The wind nearly blew away his words.\n\n\"Are the stars not beautiful?\" Renard said.\n\n\"Yes, they are.\" But Yelts had closed his eyes hours before the stars arrived and had not opened them since. \"I told you that life offers more than death. Because death is doom. But for now I am happy.\" And Yelts was smiling. The gesture seemed to crack his flaky face - as if he hadn't done it in a very long time.\n\nRenard sat in silence for awhile. He waited for his friend to die. He shook his friend after a few hours, but realised that Yelts had died long ago.\n\n\"He is dead. But I thought he was alive.\" Renard thought. Renard covered his friends face with another meagre amount of dirt.\n\nRenard walked a long distance before he pulled out his cigarette lighter and began to cook the skinned rat as best he could. After he ate the rodent he sat down and thought for awhile. What a vague line between life and death, when one cannot even tell the difference between dead and sleep. Renard thought for longer and decided that his friend had died even longer ago than he previously thought. He thought about his conversation with his dead friend and then smiled. Here, at last, death had done good.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] You are the chosen one, destined to liberate the world from the totalitarian, dogmatic Overlord. You are also a middle-aged philosophy professor at oxford. You intend to defeat the Overlord via a philosophical debate in your smoking lounge.	[ "The Overlord came in through the door. He ducked, nearly bowing as he tried to fit through. The pommel of his greatsword whacked the doorframe, splintering the wood. He walked over to my lounge, the spikes of his boot breaking the floorboards with every step. Repairing my floor will be a small price to pay for saving the world, I thought. As he sat uppon the sofa, I got a good glimpse of the man, (or former man, I presume.) He was wearing oily black armor, the spikes on his back dangling evil banners and desiccated corpses. I looked away, disgusted. How could I be treating with this monster? I was the chosen one, I should have defeated him in battle. But the reason he was here was because I knew I wouldn't be able to. \n\n \"You say my cause is unjust. That millions of people, content with their lot, working for the betterment of my dominion is wrong.\" I had thought this over a thousand times or more, rehearsing and planning. \" Your people are happy, you say. Are they, or is that the result of your powers?\" \" I could make them unhappy, if you would like,\" he responded, calmly for a zealot having beliefs questioned. \"I would like,\" I began, sounding more confident than I felt, \" If you made them free.\"\n\"And why is that? So they may kill each other, and cause suffering, and destroy themselves from within? There has been no crime, no unhappiness, no suffering, ever since I began my rule. The burden is on me.\" \n\n You!?\" I shouted, incredulous. \"Indeed. I control 537 million, two thousand and twenty-five individuals with my mind, manage all positions of government, and liberate more and more individuals from themselves.\" I composed myself. That was unprofessional. \"They are drones then. Workers in your hive, unthinking. They have no way to determine their future, no art, no friends. The joys of a family, of sitting by the fire, of everything they once knew, is gone. They are content, in the same way an ant is content with crawling along the ground.\"\n\n The Overlord scoffed. \"Would you give an ant a paintbrush and a canvas, and tell it to make art? Would you give a bee a family, and a minute fire to sit by? They do not have any desire for it, or need. My people are content. If they are content, then the ends justify the means.\n\n He made a convincing argument. But, in my years of debates, I had learned that being quick to call someone a sophist may very well win a debate by itself. \"This is sophistry. I made an analogy, and you attacked it as if it were a posited fact. Furthermore, you avoided replying to my point, leading me to suspect you have no response.\" \"I responded.\" he stated, coolly, \"If my people are content, then the ends justify the means. I liberated a country where dead bodies were as common as leaves falling to the ground. Many did not live past childhood, whether through famine or murder, or ending their lives to stop their torment. Now there have been no murders, and they eat enough to survive.\" I opened my mouth, then paused. Perhaps... I thought. \n\n \"You seem to have a knack for keeping your people safe, I'll grant you that. But what if you could use your powers to keep them safe, while still granting them free will? What if you became a benevolent ruler, and let them do as they wished, (within reason, of course,) and made amends for the destruction and carnage you caused?\" The Overlord changed somehow. \"You believe I could do that?\" he asked. \"I do. Of course, there would be others helping you, and you'd need the people's support, but...\" I trailed off, let him ponder it. \"I do want to help people. But perhaps I've been doing it... wrong.\" He spat the word out, afraid to contemplate his actions. But the hook was cast, and he was circling it, contemplating whether to strike. \"But, they'll hate me. I'm evil, to them. They'd never support me.\" \"You have your powers,\" I said, \"perhaps you could use them to... influence people's opinions.\" The Overlord looked at me, saying nothing. Finally, he spoke. \"You say that using my powers to take away people's free will is a bad thing, but you want me to use them again?\" I smiled. \"If your people are content, then the ends justify the means.\"" ]	1
	[WP] Various mages are entered into a sport where they must create a golem and battle their enemies' golems to win. You are one of those mages.	[ "I draw my summoning pedestal into the ground. Standing in front of the pedestal start chanting the incantation of metal for i am summoning the golem of metal. As I begin the chant the ground starts to ripple with energy as a metal head, a dragons, starts to emerge from the other place. As the chant continues the body starts to slither out of the ground. As it unferals it's wings I finish the ancient chant and with a flurrish of my hands bind this metal golem to my bidding. The golem I have been working on for years to get ready for times like these, I have masterfully crafted it's every scale out of the finest silver with eyes of Jade. As I exit my summoning platform I see my enemies have created a horde of miniscule nymph like golems about a dozen or so all made out of the finest red clay. I order my dragon golem to attack. The enemies golems are too fast and dodge quickly while one or two grab on to the talons of my golem and start trying to rend my precious work to pieces. So I command my golem to fly upwards and smash into the ground with the enemy golems underneath. My golem pounding it's wings, slowly flies upwards toward the roof of the collosium. As it reaches the top it drops down at great speeds toward the nymph golems.", "At twelve feet tall and two-and-a-half tons, it was a marvel to behold, my masterpiece. Modeled after a knight's platemail and composed of pure iron, I had poured my very sould into its creation. Now though, the time for preparation is over, soon the porticullis before me will open and I will step onto the field of battle with my construct. Only enough time for one last centering beeath -- the crowd erupts in cheer as the gates rise.\n\nTwo figures stand sillouetted across the sandy pit of an arena. One has almost three feet on the other. Too short for a metal golem... too skinny for clay... then the stench hits me. A flesh golem. My opponent points across the field and it leans forward, barreling at my masterpiece with impressive speed for a mishmash of corpses. But the technique is crude. With only a thought I command my iron forward at a casual stroll. I have the weight advantage and the charge halts in an outstretched iron gauntlet. Its head in a massive palm, I command aloud \"crush.\" Like a smashed melon, brains and skull fragments fly and the monster crumbles. On to the semi-finals then...", "The pits were as noisy as ever, a sea of garbled yells that fought for dominance with each other. Yet I sat silent, unmoving on the surface, a bastion of calm. FUCK my mind screamed. I forgot to write out a scroll of control. What in the ever loving shit was I supposed to do without that? I'd brought a very expensive statue to a golem fight. Esraeth was going to have my head on a pike, no! Think, there had to be something.\n\nI looked over my design again. Three thousand Drachzi, my wages six times over, worth of materials. The outside was banded plating, steel forged and slotted together, underneath the flesh was clay from the river bank, possibly the cheapest and most vital part. It was all formed into a rough humanoid shape, and in the back of it's \"head\" sat a painfully empty compartment.\n\n\"No more drinking before an event\" I muttered to myself my face in my hands.\n\n\"Hey Yusong, whats with the face?\" I looked up at the source of the voice calling my name and found myself looking at a short blonde woman. She wore an emerald green robe with an ornamental jade piece in her hair that matched her pale green eyes.\n\n\"No need to make fun Lissa you know I was born this way.\"\n\n\"Hahaha no but more than usual, cloudy head?\"\n\nI wiped my eyes of moisture, \"You know me, ever the drinker.\"\n\n\"You know if you stopped doing that you might actually win one of these things, your latest is even more impressive than the last but your control is frankly lacking. If you on-\"\n\n\"only applied myself yeah got it, well if we are done lecturing me\" I stood with a flourish billowing out my purple tail coat, \"i'm off\". I left without her saying another word rounding the corner to a wash room and locking the door behind me. \"My control huh, me, I'm whats holding me back...I'M WHATS HOLDING ME BACK. I've got it\" A smile splashed across my face and I rapidly approached the mirror on the wall.\n\nI took a large lump of clay out of my bag, spare from the construction process and drew a large circle round my head on the mirror. Various runes were written inside and outside the line. Naming the base elements with their alchemical symbols outside the ring and the symbols for aether and energy inside. One in one out going round the loop till I had written as much detail about the world I wished to expel and the world I wished to include to form a gate to Magano. Now all I needed was a name.\n\n\"Blerzeble? Nope uhhhh fuck. Aeswin, Tiador, Erinath, Azerzel, Anuthis, Haerin, Grewit. You're kidding none of these? I can draw a path to the fucking spirit plane in under a minute but I can't remember the name of the great spirit Bartimaeus?\"\n\n\"YOU HAVE SPOKEN MY NAME, FOR WHAT REASON MORTAL\" I jumped away from my own reflection. My once pale face and brown eyes now a charred black and glowing red, like the embers of a fire. Though I knew my expression was of fear the reflection of me wore a wry grin, smug, satisfied that I'd flinched in terror. \"You are right to fear me\"\n\nI cleared my throat, \"not scared actually just a little startled uh, like what you've done with, well me.\"\n\n\"Your whimsy does little to disguise your nervousness, even through this pane of glass I can taste it\"\n\n\"Well, little gross but okay. Moving on. I need something, a spirit of your host. One that can fight and follow orders.\" I cleared my head of unnecessary emotions and put on my best business face, or at least I hoped it was, I couldn't quite see\"my\" reflection at the moment. Instead I saw contemplation, my own twisted face, twisted in thought.\n\n\"And what do I get mortal?\" The inevitable question.\n\nMy soul? NOPE. Uhhhhhhhh think Yusong, think. \"A golem\"\n\n\"...A golem?\"\n\n\"What you don't like golems?\" Annoyance crept into my voice, how dare this entity mock my craft.\n\n\"What need have I fo-\"\n\n\"Oh boy look I can make the Golem of holy material, filled with scripture. Imagine that a weapon against your rivals. A force they couldn't touch? Come on.\" I pleaded with my darkened self.\n\n\"DEAL\" The noise erupted from the very walls of the room and I put my finger to my lips \n\n\"Shhh sh shhhhh\" We arent exactly hidden in here.\n\n\"Deal\" Came the whispered response. I pushed my hand into the mirror and watched as it morphed through and I felt a clammy wet clawed appendage grip my hand shaking. I pulled my hand out and in it was a small stone. Perfectly smooth and a deep crimson. The spirit of a warrior who said those damn stupid words. I sell my soul.\n\nThe face in the mirror was my own and I set about cleaning the mess I'd made up. I didn't have long my first round fight would be in roughly half an hour. I had to commune with this spirit and explain the ins and outs of this whole thing. If I pulled this off I'd win for sure. If not, probably burned at the stake. \n\n...Crap had I thought this through?\n\n\n\n\n" ]	3
	[WP] The entirety of humanity becomes caught in a shared "Groundhog Day" style time loop. Millions of cycles later the effect wears off but what has become of humanity in the interim?	[ "\"Wish us luck, Harrison. Hopefully, we'll see you soon. If things don't work out, it's been an honor working with you.\"\n\nHarrison woke up on the floor of the lab. Harrison stumbled to his feet. \n\n“Thank you,\" Harrison gasped. \"Tell me, is everything outside—?” His rescuers stood in a circle around him; he recognized none of them. “Wait, who are you?”\n\nThey all turned to look at the one standing in front of him—a tall woman with hair and eyes the color of steel. She cleared her throat, and said, “We are…here to rescue you.”\n\n“Rescue? Then…” Harrison sat heavily on the floor. “It didn’t work.”\n\n“What didn’t work?” one of them asked. The woman silenced him with a glare. Suspicious of his \"rescuers,\" Harrison looked up. \n\n“You don’t know… Who are you really?”\n\nThe woman sighed. “We aren’t from here,” she said. \n\n“Well, then where are you from? Another of the labs?”\n\n“…Cygnus,” the woman answered. “Our star is on the opposite side of the galaxy.”\n\nHarrison's eyebrows shot upward. \"Oh,\" he said.\n\nThe woman continued, “I realize this must be difficult for you to—”\n\n“Oh, please spare me the ‘You’re not alone in the universe’ bullshit,” Harrison interrupted. He stood upright with a grunt, and sighed. “I’ve seen stranger things than aliens over the last God-knows-how-many days. I am curious, though,” he added, “as to why you look human, and speak perfect English.”\n\nThe woman tapped a small mechanism clipped to her belt. “This matches the appearance of indigenous species, and translates their language—to facilitate communication, not to deceive.”\n\n“‘Indigenous species’—Jesus,” Harrison muttered. He leaned against the console that had until recently sustained him. \n\n“We came to investigate an anomaly we observed in your star—but our ship was damaged upon entering your system, and we had to land here to repair it. Our sensor chief noticed the signal coming from this place; we decided to investigate it,” the woman explained. \n\n“What’s wrong with the sun?” Harrison asked. \n\n“Your star?” the sensory chief asked. “According to the FRO—”\n\n“The what?” Harrison interrupted.\n\n“‘First Relativistic Observatory.’ According to data from the FRO, your ‘sun’ aged almost 14,000 years in the space of a day.”\n\nHarrison’s head shot up. “That’s how long it’s been?” he said. \n\n“Do you know something about this?” the woman asked. \n\nHarrison nodded slowly. “Unfortunately, I think I might.” He took a deep breath. “It was a day before we realized what had happened…”\n\n…\n\nOur instruments had picked up something strange—some aberration in data sent from an LHC experiment. It wasn’t in the next experiment’s data, though, so we dismissed it until the next day. Or, I guess it wasn’t really the next day—you see, everyone woke up, and it was the same day as before. \n\nThe initial reaction was about what you would expect. There was panic, confusion, apathetic jokes about that old Bill Murray movie. My colleagues and I got to work trying to figure out what happened, and how to fix it. As far as we could tell, it started with the aberration in our data, and it was confined to our solar system. Local space-time had somehow curved back on itself—we would keep experiencing the same day over and over again, though for reasons we could never explain, we would remember each iteration of the cycle. \n\nWe didn’t spend too long questioning a good thing. Every time the day started over, we came into work armed with what we had learned before, and we tried to come up with a solution. Teams all around the world were putting their heads together, trying to make sense of what had caused this, and what we could do to fix it. \n\nNo one made much progress on finding out the cause of our dilemma—but my team had an idea as to how we might stop the cycle.\n\nWe theorized that the cycle was the result of space-time becoming tangled, in a sense; we just needed to unravel it. To do this, we needed to create a singularity—generate enough energy to cause a large enough ripple in space-time to untangle it. The only problem was the collateral damage—everyone on Earth would die as a result of the excess energy ejected from the singularity. \nNow before you all start giving me looks, it wouldn’t be permanent. Everyone would be fine when the last iteration of the cycle would start. Not everyone was understanding, as you might imagine, but the governments of most countries kept order long enough for us to detonate the singularity—at least, the first few times. \n\nIt didn’t work the first time, obviously—or the time after that. Or the next several dozen times after that. Science is about experimentation, you must know that—I can’t imagine it’s that different in Cygnus, or wherever you’re from. The entire world’s population went crazy—being blown up again and again and again, only to wake up on the same day each time. Every new cycle, governments would fall to mass riots, only to spring up again when the day restarted, and wait for the next riot. \n\nWe eventually figured out where we went wrong—we knew the next one would work. But we also found a potential flaw in the plan. \n\nYou see, space-time wasn’t tangled in a loop so much as a…a spiral, with each loop intersecting the point in space-time corresponding to the beginning of the day. Each iteration of the cycle generated a new reality—a separate possible timeline for the solar system to take after the singularity untangled our local space-time. Now, the recent timelines were more dominant, so the plan would probably work, and generate a final iteration of the day where everything’s fine. \n\nBut there was a possibility—approximately 32%, I think—that the singularity would collapse space-time into one of the timelines where we destroyed the Earth. I don’t need to tell you how things played out. \n\n…\n\nHarrison rested his head in his hands. The woman cleared her throat. “So how did you survive?”\n\nHarrison looked up, and sighed. “We developed a contingency, should things take a turn for the worse. They put a single member of each team in a pocket dimension that would survive whatever outcome the singularity brought; if everything worked out, they’d collapse the pocket dimension and bring us back.” Harrison nodded at the now-dark console. “If worse came to worst, each team set up a console would collapse the pocket dimension after three days, and leave us to figure out a way to bring our world back.” Harrison rose, and turned to the sensor chief. “But you said the sun aged 14,000 years?”\n\n“Not quite 14,000, but yes,” the sensor chief said. \n\nHarrison frowned. “That doesn’t make any sense. Unless…” Harrison’s head jerked up. “What was it like outside? The city?”\n\n“Ruins,” the woman answered. “We assumed whatever civilization was here died out long ago.”\n\nHarrison bit his lip. “There’s no way the mobs did that much damage in any of the iterations.” His eyes widened. “Oh, shit. Shit, shit, shit.”\n\n“What?”\n\n“The spiral space-time structure collapsed into a single loop.” Harrison tore at his hair. “The damage of each iteration became superimposed—thousands of years of destruction, done in the space of a day.”\n\n“That’s why the sun aged 14,000 years,” the sensor chief murmured. \n\n“Who gives a shit?” Harrison’s voice cracked. “Earth—my home—is in fucking ruins!”\n\n“So figure out a way to reverse it,” the woman said. “Wasn’t that your task?”\n\n“No, you don’t understand!” Harrison yelled. “It collapsed into a single loop—we’re stuck in a new loop!” Harrison rounded on the woman. “I need your help to fix this—we need to wake up the rest now, and figure out how to fix this! I can’t do this again, I can’t spend fucking millennia underground in this lab!”\n\n“This isn’t our problem,” the woman said. “We’re leaving—now.”\n\nHarrison looked shrewdly at the woman. “No. No, I don’t think you are.”\n\nThe sensor chief gasped. “Captain—the damage to our ship—”\n\n“We entered the space-time loop.” The captain cursed to herself. “We’re trapped here.”", "I'd watched it all, from on high. They all woke up, in the same places. Very few of them were still sane. They'd done horrible things. First they'd raped, murdered and pillaged. Then they'd worked together to try and get out. Then, the human spirit mandated that they go back to the age-old pastime of rape and pillage.\n\nI'd watched them all. 3,650,000 cycles. Enough for every test we could devise. But it was up. I played the cycle for the final time. They woke up, eyes wide, irises spilling almost to the edges of their eyes. And collapsed. They saw a slightly different morning, but they'd lived ten thousand years. Their minds and bodies were dust. Ah well, more work for the janitors.", "As thousands of users watched the timer go down, everyone held their breath. When it suddenly back up all the way.\n\n\"Who the hell!?\" was heard, screamed onto the online voice channel.\n\n\"It's Jack. His title just changed.\"\n\n\"We agreed for no one to do it again...\"\n\nAt the timer ticked down again, it reached a point it never did. So close to the end, the decimals showed. 1.1 second. 0.8 second. Half a second. A quarter. Then, the timer ended. Thank you for your cooperation showed the browser window, the timer flashing 0.0 seconds.\n\nThen, the world turned white.\n\n****\n\nBuzz buzz buzz\n\nMy alarm woke me up, like always. As I looked at the time, I realized it was 8 in the morning. I had only a few moments to reach my computer.\n\n\"Welcome.\" said the robotic voice in my headset. \"Connecting to chatroom...\"\n\n\"Here's our savior.\" said someone in the chatroom.\n\n\"Hey everyone. Sorry, I'm late. How's the timer?\"\n\n\"15 seconds left. I hope you have your page ready.\"\n\n\"I didn't close my computer just so the page could stay up.\" I said, my cursor hovering over the UI element. \"Clicking at 2 seconds.\"\n\n\"And... 58 seconds more to the timer. If we keep at it, we should be able to have close to two years and a half this time around.\"\n\n\"After so many cycles, it would be time. Good luck, boys, I'll be back tonight for my watch.\"\n\n***\n\n\"What's up boys?\" I said as I entered the chatroom.\n\nThe room remained silent.\n\n\"Anyone here?\" I tried again.\n\nA single message came in. Check the page\n\n\"What's this masquerad- WHAT?!\"\n\nThe experiment is over. Thanks for participating.\n\n\"It's been like that for 5 minutes now.\" finally replied someone in the room.\n\n\"So... it's over? We are free?\"\n\n\"I will officially announce it in 5 minutes. The Button has freed us...\"\n\n(When I read the title, I had to do a reddit meta.)", "I remember it well. The first time it happened. Everyone was confused - and why wouldn't they be? Such an unbelievable event to occur in real life, usually restricted to just movies and fantasies.\n\nFor the entire universe hiccuped, repeating itself over again.\n\nMarried men woke up once again with their mistresses, vacation days were relived, second chances were had by 7.4 billion people... and it seemed like a good thing.\n\nBut that notion was not to last.\n\nNew mothers gave birth... screaming in agony day after day after day. Eventually, they asked the doctors to simply put them under full anesthesia every midnight, killing their child. What did it matter? It would all reverse in 24 hours...\n\nThose in prison went mad, their existences and hopes for freedom crushed even smaller than the speck of light it once was, for it was now eternal.\n\nAnd worst of all?\n\nI do it every day. Assure him it's all right. But it's not all right, and I am not all right.\n\nHe's not all right.\n\nEvery day...\n\nI watch my son die.\n\nThanks for reading! Please upvote if you liked it, and tell me what you liked about it! If you didn't, tell me how I can do better next time.*", "It took a long time for us to realize what was going on, much less accept it. But the evidence was just undeniable. People who boarded planes in one city and landed in another would wake up the next morning in the same city that they had just departed. People who died later in the day would wake up the next morning like nothing happened.\n\nAfter this had been going on for months, the Russian president one day launched his nukes at us. We responded in kind. The world had ended in a nuclear holocaust. But the next morning, we all woke up in our beds like as though nothing had happened. From that day onward, every day was February 29th.\n\nThat was the day when I realized something. Each of us in our own way, and some more than others, had become gods. How else would you describe beings who no longer had to worry about consequences?\n\nI don't remember how long this has been going on. I stopped counting after the 36,500th day. For all I know, I could be thousands of years old now, but I don't look a day over 36.\n\nI used to be an accountant. Once upon a time. But it's been so long since I've worked that I wouldn't be able to draw you a current account balance sheet now even if my life depended on it. I guess I should be glad that my life doesn't depend on it.\n\nIt wasn't always like this. At first, we went to work like we always did. But do you have any idea how difficult accounting can get when every single note and record that you had made the previous day no longer exists when you wake up? Working just became pointless. We all worked to be able to afford to live. But when affording to live no longer became a motivational factor, most people no longer found the motivation to work.\n\nThere were some holdouts. There's this one priest in our neighborhood who always goes to church every day to pray and hear people's confessions. Now that must have been quite something. I don't know what those people's sins were before all this happened; maybe skipping the Sabbath or something, but when the fear of death no longer mattered, people began to do all kinds of crazy things.\n\nTake me for example. I was a mild mannered accountant whose existence was something most people would never have noticed. But I started doing hard drugs, fucking random prostitutes and strangers out in public in the middle of the day, and even kicked a puppy to death. And that was within the first month of when this started. If you think you've seen human depravity, you haven't.\n\nI've killed, been killed, raped, been raped, mauled, been mauled, I've flown high on cocaine and once literally drowned in a vat of beer. But we weren't all depraved. At least not all the time. Thing is, after a while, even having a threesome with the hot Peterson twins that live across the street while their mother watched got boring.\n\nWe all sought fun and something new. But when you live the same day for thousands of years, well, nothing's new anymore, which means nothing's fun anymore. So, after years of debauchery, which would have made the people of Sodom and Gomorrah think we were being too much, some of us even began to pursue higher knowledge.\n\nI learned a great deal throughout all this time. I learned to speak multiple languages, learned to play the piano, and though it took me a long time, I finally understood cricket! I never thought I'd get cricket. Well, at least I understood cricket before I eventually forgot it again. Time's a bitch. Even if it stands still.\n\nBut even that got boring. Everything got boring. And there was no way out.\n\nAll of that changed yesterday.\n\nYesterday, I walked out of my home. I had not even bothered to tie up my robe even if my manhood was swinging for all the world to see. It wouldn't have been the first time any of them had seen it anyway. I walked out and saw my neighbor about to jump off his roof.\n\n\"Morning, Fred,\" I said.\n\n\"Morning, John,\" he replied.\n\n\"Turning in early today?\"\n\n\"Yep.\"\n\nHe jumped off the roof, not for the first time, which was followed by a splat. I knew exactly how his body would have twisted in every angle and which orifice blood was pouring out from. I had seen it all before countless times.\n\nI continued to walk to the liquor store, smashed the window with a rock, picked up a bottle of Jack Daniels, walked over to Jill's house, got drunk and my dick sucked, then went home. Sitting in the darkness by yourself without talking to anyone can sometimes be the best way to spend the day. One time, I decided to get adventurous and meet new people only to end up getting crucified. Literally. People can be sick. And it's not like as though it doesn't hurt. Just because you wake up the next day at home like as though it never happened doesn't mean that getting your hands and feet nailed to a cross doesn't hurt like a motherfucker.\n\nToday, however, was different. I woke up, walked out of my home without bothering to tie up my robe even if my manhood was swinging for all the world to see, and said good morning to Fred while walking to the liquor store but then something caught my attention. Fred's broken body was still lying on the ground. And he reeked. Flies were buzzing around him. That has never happened before.\n\nI rushed back into my house and turned on the radio. I had not listened to the news in a very long time but I still remembered how to change the radio station. It was all over the news. Hundreds, if not thousands, of people who died yesterday were discovered dead today.\n\nIt was official. It was finally March 1st. And for the first time in an incredibly long time, I felt something that I had long given up on. I felt happy. And I knew what I was going to do. I quickly walked back to my room and opened my closet. On the top shelf was an old shoe box where I kept my gun.\n\nI was ready. But apparently I wasn't the only person to think this way. While I was rummaging the box for bullets, I heard several gunshots come from the twins' house. Everyone was choosing to die. We had all lived thousands of lifetimes, did everything, and did everyone. There was nothing new left. The only thing that made any of us happy anymore was the fact that we no longer had to live.\n\nRight before I was about to pull the trigger, my last thought was whether that priest would kill himself, too." ]	5
	[WP] Mysteriously all the Egyptian Pharaohs rise from their tombs and claim to be the rightful ruler of Egypt and declare war on each other. The UN calls in a specialist to mediate the situation, that person is you.	[ "\"Alright, we all know why we're here today. You guys have a little bit of a problem and I have to stop it.\" I was talking to the three Pharaohs in a jovial manner, hoping they would be happy.\n\n\"I know you've already killed most of the other Pharaohs, and... wait, where's Cleopatra?\" I asked them, but it was my assistant who answered.\n\n\"They're a muslim nation now, so, they aren't letting her rule.\"\n\n\"Well shit. Why do you each think you should be the leader?\"\n\nKhufu replied first \"I built the Great Pyramid of Giza. That is one of your Wonders, right?\"\n\n\"What else did you do? Nothing!\" Ramses II shouted in reply.\n\n\"My reign is not particularly well documented! I don't know what I did.\"\n\n\"But you're you. You should know what you did.\"\n\n\"I don't though.\" Ramses tutted in disgrace.\n\n\"What?\" Replied Tutankhamun.\n\n\"What?\" Ramses was very confused, but I thought it was probably time for me to actually mediate.\n\n\"Khufu, you already said why you should. Ramses and Tut, you may both give your reasons for why you should be ruler.\"\n\n\"I defeated the Hittities.\" 19 year old Tut laughed at Hittities. \"Furthermore, I built many temples, and I lived to 92.\" Ramses spoke with great authority.\n\n\"I improved the economy, and I restored many diplomatic relationships.\" Tut was self-assured \"In this modern world, I would be a great leader of Egypt.\"\n\nI now had to come to a decision. Khufu was clearly the wrong choice. Tut was a good diplomat, but in the modern world of the Middle East, Ramses would be quite effective. I had made my decision.\n\n\"I choose R-\" I was interrupted by my assistant.\n\n\"Sir, there is one more candidate.\"\n\n\"Send him in.\"\n\nA somewhat short, middle eastern man walked in and sat down. He was accompanied by two armed guards.\n\n\"Hello, I am Abdel Fattah el-Sisi, the current President of Egypt.\"\n\nIn retrospect, the current President would probably be the best person to lead Egypt, rather than 2000 year old reincarnations of dead Pharaohs.\n\n\"I choose him.\" That statement made the Pharaohs quite angry, but when they stood up, the armed guards shot them.\n\n\"Well... okay then, have a nice day, Mr President.\"\n\n\"You too.\"\n\nHe left and now I had to look at three dead Pharaohs sitting on the floor bleeding out everywhere. \n\n\"This is quite bad, isn't it boss.\" My assistant remarked.\n\n\"Literally nothing has changed now. Everyone who was in power is still in power, and the only people who died were the people who were already dead.\"\n\n\"I meant bad for the cleaning staff, you know, the dead guys on the floor.\"\n\n\"Oh yeah.\"" ]	1
	[WP] You are transported back in time to exactly one day before any modern human created disaster (I.e 9/11, Paris attacks, etc.) Pick the disaster and explain how you would prevent or stop the disaster.	[ "Steve stumbled into the pub. He still felt uneasy from the jump. He was from the far future. He had been sent back on a special mission to prevent one of the biggest tragedies the human race had ever seen. \n\nSteve sat down at the counter and looked at an old analogue clock. It was only three in the afternoon. The bartender ambled over and asked if he wanted anything. Steve ordered the pubs local brew and a copy that day's paper. The bartender handed him a copy that the previous customer had left. Steve checked the date. It was the 23rd of October, 1932. He smiled. It was the right year.\n\nHe received his beer and he went to sit outside. The air was dry and the sun was hot. But Steve didn't mind. He knew there was rain coming. He picked up the newspaper and read the front story. It was something about the union requesting extra seeds. Steve didn't know what a union was, but at least the alcohol hadn't changed.\n\nAfter a good twenty minutes he returned his empty glass, tucked his paper under his arm, and headed into town. He was looking for a building labeled \"Post Office.\" According to his notes that's where a phone should be. After a little bit of aimless wandering he finally found it. Nobody was in. He looked around for what might be a phone. He spied a booth with a large metal box hanging on the wall. Upon further instruction he saw that the box had a primitive keypad and a large handle on the side. It had to be a phone. \n\nAfter a few minutes Steve managed to figure out how to work the thing. He looked over his notes one last time before dialing the number. This was the tipping point. If he could get the Minister of Defense to listen to him his mission would be a success. He could hear the ring coming from the speaker. After a short while the ringing stopped and was replaced by the voice of a man. The man said hello and introduced himself as \"Mr. Pearce.\"\n\nSteve returned the favor and introduced himself also. Mr. Pearce asked him what he could do for him. Steve explained his predicament. He explained how the regions crops were dying and how many people were going hungry. He explained how a threat had risen and was terrorizing the farmland. He continued to consult his notes as he talked. He didn't know what any of those things were but he hoped it would convince the Minister to take action. Their exchange continued till the end of the hour and by that time Steve knew he had Mr. Pearce convinced. \n\nThe next day Steve awoke to find the towns main strip full of soldiers (which wasn't many). He hurried downstairs to meet the Minister. He eventually found him and formally introduced himself. The Minister smiled and told him he will be looking forward to this new project. He told him his soldiers had been itching to shoot at something, anything, since the war ended. Steve told him that they would need more time to prepare as it was probably going to be a bigger job than expected.\n\nIn the following weeks they worked hard. Guns and ammunition were brought in. Rations were made. Plans were drawn up. This operation was not going to fail. The enemy would never see them coming. The Minister of Defense had taken the lead in the operation and Steve had since faded into the background. This was all fine and dandy for Steve until he was handed a rifle and asked to join the troops on the front line. \n\nOn the night before the attack, a huge storm came upon the small town, postponing the attack. Steve took the opportunity to escape to his jump point. Before he activated the device that would send him back to his own time he briefly went over what he had accomplished. After the storm passed over the troops would begin their attack and thus should prevent the catastrophe from ever occurring. He was confident that it would work. After all, no one had come back to tell him it hadn't worked. But he didn't really understand all that time travel stuff anyway. Steve activated the device and felt the air around him surge with power.\n\nIn the blink of an eye he was back in his living room. He looked about himself. He didn't feel any different but that didn't mean nothing had changed. He called over his computer and searched the Internet for the great catastrophe. \"No Results Found.\" It looked as if it worked. Steve smiled and looked at the stolen time travel device. He made a mental note to destroy it before anyone found out he had it. He checked the Internet one last time. This time he checked for anything eventful that happened in 1932. Sure enough he found what he was looking for but he was a little disappointed. Apparently it had taken longer than expected to eliminate the threat. The enemy has put up quite a fight it seemed. Steve searched further forward and found that the threat had eventually been eliminated.\n\nHe called off his computer and went over to the window. He was awed by what he saw. Fields upon fields of golden wheat as far as he could see. He ran outside to make sure he wasn't dreaming. Before he jumped all that was there was a barren wasteland. Now it was a bountiful plane. He could even make out a large farming robot in the distance. He was eager to learn how this had effected his life. Surely he would be much richer now. He checked and indeed he was. And it was all thanks to the [Great Emu War.](https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Emu_War)\n\n***\n\nI took a slightly different take on the prompt but I hope you enjoyed it anyway. " ]	1
	[WP] Earth is being used as the playing field for a galactic game similar to Pokemon GO. All humans are now the equivalent of pokemon and are assigned into one of 151 groups. You are the equivalent of a Mewtwo.	[ "Amanda looked at the new app. Catch em' All! had been reccomended by all her friends, the perfect combination of fun and exercise.... with a side course of revenge, naturally. The creatures in the game had managed to snag her little Hypno last week. With luck, someone would manage to capture the creature that took it and return it to her, but until then Isaac was stuck in the virtual realm.\n\nCatch em' All! has completed downloading!\n\nHer phone chimed as the app finished downloading, brightly displaying the Silph Co. logo as it logged into her account, and showed her how to Catch em' All!^^TM successfully.\n\n---\n\nI looked at the lecture, utterly disinterested in the real-world applications of electromagnetic waves. A few buttons later, and Pokemon Silver loaded. The music hurried at a frantic pace behind my headphones, as I turned the speed toggle on. Ah well, this Onix won't grind itself...\n\nAs I looked up at the lecturer, both she and her lectern vanished in a flash of light, as a bright red ball closed over them and sucked them inside. In an instant, hundreds more been captured in these balls. They were dangerously familiar. I ran, face lined with sweat and beet-red, through the myriad floors of the university.\n\n---\n\nAmanda scrolled through her Pokemon. Nothing much, just a Lectoror, three Hipstereons and a Stuitar. All low-level of course. She looked at the Pokemon she'd managed to get back into her world. A Pikachu, two Zubats and about seventy-five Rattata. Why the hell do they even collect these things? she wondered, as she set them all back into the slums that ringed her city. They hadn't even named any except the Pikachu, which was apparently called Surge. How original. She renamed it to Nikola, then put it in the third space on her belt. Just because she preferred Psychic didn't mean other types should be ignored, she figured. If someone came at her expecting all-Psychic, they'd get a nasty surprise.\n\n---\n\nI hid in the dorm room. I had no desire to be trapped in a red and white ball for years upon end, and Rick's pranking generally didn't go passed putting weed in my food/drink/car when I was about to go to work. And weed didn't do this. I sat down, shaking. The walls filled with screams, as I heard people being sucked into those horrible balls. No way on Earth I was going out there. Hopefully, whatever their version of Niantic had their servers fail again or something. But it was not to be, as I saw a Pokeball materialise above my head.\n\n---\n\nAmanda looked through her \"recaptured\" section. Jesus Christ, how many damned low-levels did they keep? She'd long since replaced her Hypno with a Pikachu named Elesa, that was a much higher level, even if the bloody idiot who named it didn't even know how the regions worked. Of course, she'd have to release the three hundred and nine Rattata she had retrieved later today too. Her friend mailed; the Gym at the mall was in danger. But none of that could stop her now. \n\nShe'd seen it. Stutwo. The Psychic/Water student Pokemon. A legendary, with stats that were off the charts. If it existed in her world, it would be perfectly capable of walking over to the local Gym, grabbing the Alakazam from inside, curb-stomping it and walking off to get some breakfast, completely unharmed. It was also extremely hard to catch, and in Catch em' All! you couldn't even lower their health. Amanda steeled her best ball, and threw.\n\n---\n\nI saw the Ultra Ball decend, as if in slow motion. I dodged to the side, as it hit the ground at about half a mile an hour. I gave the finger to whoever had thrown it, and ran outside, locking the door. Shit! said whoever had thrown the thing, but on my list of worries their happiness was pretty damned close to the bottom.\n\n--\n\nBla bla bla, I [have a subreddit](http://reddit.com/r/Thomas_633), look at stuff on it, etc." ]	1
	[WP] Your best friend is diagnosed with cancer, and you're the only one who can tell them.	[ "OP here guys. I wanted to give it a try. It's my first draft and my first short story to write. Be easy on me, guys. If there are any advice/critiques you'd give me, I'd be glad to know.\n\nToday, as I'm giving these words life, I decided to tell my best friend a secret. I was not sure if I could do it, but I was left with no options. I picked the phone and rang her, \"Hey, Maxine!\" I said, \"How's work today?\" \"I don't feel well, but I had to come to work.\" She replied, \"I had some files to work on, you know.\" I was drowned in thoughts. It felt like a burden; one that is too heavy to carry, but I did carry it all along. It wasn't a choice, but a must. How could I tell her about it? Is this really the end? \"Patrick, you there?\" She woke me up with her voice, \"Oh yeah, of course, it's the network again.\" I said, \"How about I come pick you up at 6.30 p.m from work and go to the park?\" \"Umm I do have a lot to do, but I think I can spare some time for that. I'll meet you at the front gate,\" she replied. \"Sure, take care,\" I replied. We always loved sitting in the park together since it was the place where we first met. I still remember that day like yesterday. \n\nThat day, she wore a black sweater, yoga pants, and a pair of white sneakers. She always loved to run. I was sitting on the bench. Funny thing is I got up to pick up my pen, then she bumped into me. Maybe I did stand in her way. I don't know, but we were meant to meet that day. I can't tell how our friendship developed through the years. It certainly did not happen overnight, but we've always been there for each other. \n\nMaxine is a short, white blonde girl. I always teased her just to see her cheeks reddening. Her eyes have a dark blueish tone and always look glimmered. Perhaps, she captivates every eye that lays sight on her. She is a beautiful creature. \n\nIt's 5 p.m. I took a shower. It didn't feel any better. Why would it? I wished the diagnosis weren't real. I rather wished it was me. I never felt more untidy than today; my thoughts were scattered. As time passed, my mind drowned in the far deep oceans of stress. For the first time, I was unable to even think of a subtle way to tell her. \n\nIt's 6:15 p.m. Her workplace was two blocks away from home. I took the diagnosis from the drawer. I put a picture of us in the envelope. Perhaps, that was going to help. I locked the door and climbed down the stairs. Each step I made was heavier than the other. How hard it is for someone to deliver bad news! I'm not even sure if it's bad news. These are news that can flip one's life upside down. I never wanted to be a messenger of such news. \n\nMy inner dialogue was interrupted by a phone call. It was Maxine. I answered, \"Hey Maxine. I'm one my way to you. I'm sorry, I'm a bit late.\" \"It's alright. You're always late and not punctual,\" she replied. \"Typical Maxine. Being sarcastic even in a tiring day. That's my girl!\" I said, \"Hey, I wanted to tell you that you're the best.\" I know. I fucked up. Maxine wouldn't have expected me to tell her this. Not even on my happiest days. I uttered words I wasn't aware of. Her response, too, was unexpected, \"...Oh my gosh, Patrick. I really think you're the best guy I had in my life. I love you, best buddy,\" she said with a terrific pitch. \"Love you too,\" I replied. \n\nI found my way to the car in the parking lot. I was 5 minutes late. Maxine was standing beside a white pole. Rust made it look glitched. I brought my head out of the window and shouted, \"Maxine, over here!\" She turned over and saw me, \"Oh, there you are\". She'd sense me even if I didn't call her out. Perhaps our bond was too strong. She got in the car with a smile drawn over her face. She always smelled good. I drove off to the park without saying a word. I couldn't think of any. I was too perplexed. \nWe reached the park, and we headed straight to our favourite place. A look in here eyes is all that took me to break in tears in front of her. Maxine never saw me crying before, let alone sobbing. Today was very different. I promised that I'd take that burden away. She put my face up with both her index and middle finger under my chin. She was too shocked to even ask. I twisted both my hands over her waist. I told her with grief, \"Maxine, I'm so sorry. I mean it. I rea... I r-really don't know how you're going to receive the news. I just want you to know that it was for your sake. Please don't hate me,\" She panicked, but she didn't know why. I felt her body trembling; she was a frail being. She bent to my ear and whispered, \"I don't know what you're talking about. You're freaking me out.\" \"Please promise me that you wouldn't be angry with me. We're best friends. I did that for your own go--\" \"Just tell me, Patrick, will you? I've had a rough day. I don't think it can get any worse now.\" I nodded whilst tears ran down my eyes like a stream. My left hand reached out to my pocket. I gave her the envelope. My heart pumped more blood than any time before, \"Promise me that you will be fine.\" \n\nShe opened the envelope and saw the picture I put inside, \"It's lovely of you to have this here,\" she said, \"I remember this day...\" \"I do, too.\" I replied, \"Read the paper inside.\" I wiped my tears with my sleeves. I tried to man up. She opened the paper wide. Maxine's hands were shaking as she was reading through. I, without hesitation, told her, \"Maxine, you don't have to read it all. You're diagnosed with cancer. I'm,\" I broke into tears again, \"It's..I-it has been a year now. It's not at a later stage. I did not want to tell you. I was afraid you'd quit your job, lose hope, and feel lifeless. But you are not. You are stronger than this. But I was afraid. It's unfair.\" Maxine turned pale and the world, in her eyes, spun. I rushed to grab her head still. I contained her in my arms. She passed out for a few seconds but then regained consciousness. Tears were stuck at the edge of her eyes. I offered her all of my hope through that hug. How I wished it was me again. I barely could hear what she said, \"Thanks for being a good friend, Patrick. Thanks for letting me know. I kept a secret from you too. I always loved you. I mean it. I am in love with you. If there's anything I want to do before I lie still in a grave, it is to be in your company. You are my hope now.\" \"You won't die any sooner. I promise...I'll do whatever it takes.\" I soothed her, \"Hey, let's go home. It's getting dark. Shall we, my love?\"\n\nTo be honest, I don't know if I was happy or sad. I was in love with her, too. It was a mere coincidence. She had good news for me. I had bad news for her. What an absurd life!\n\nAfter two years of fighting cancer, Maxine died. I reckon I was too depressed to engage with the real world. I shut myself home for three months. Nothing mattered to me. Maxine was one of a kind. Don't get me wrong, but Maxine was and still is my perfection.\n\n\nShe coloured my life in her own way, but now my life is colourless. If only it was me...\n\n\n\n ", "\"Mmrow,\" the cat yawped. Jordan wasn't sure what the problem was with the blasted feline tonight. He had already fed Boulder, let him outside, let him inside, cuddled him, left him alone, and even gave him a treat, which he ignored.\n\n\"What do you want from me, pal?\" He asked the cat, half hoping his yowls would transform into human speech so he could understand what all the noise was about. He would even accept Chinese from Boulder- at least he could translate that on Google.\n\nBoulder just jumped up on Jordan's lap, rubbing his head against Jordan's chest.\n\n\"You better not be so moody tomorrow at work,\" Jordan warned him, stroking his head. \"People there still like you.\"\n\n**\n\n\"OOOOHH, there's my little Boulder!\" Squealed Nancy, the nurse who was worked the front desk on Wednesday afternoons, as Jordan walked Boulder onto the ward.\n\n\"How are you today, Nancy?\" Jordan greeted her.\n\n\"Oh you know, it's just the same old chaos here,\" she replied with a well-practiced smile.\n\n\"Any new patients for Boulder to visit this week?\"\n\n\"Mr. George in room 7, and a Mrs. Harrison in room 8. Here, I'll take you around,\" she offered, beckoning to the two of them with a wave of her hand. They made their way down the hallway, stopping in every room for Boulder to climb on the beds and be stroked by patients old and young.\n\n\"He sure is a sweetie,\" Nancy commented as Boulder hopped up on Mr. George's lap and rubbed his head against Mr. George's chest.\n\n\"Oh believe you me,\" Jordan replied, \"He's acting sweet just for the good people here. He wasn't so sweet last night.\"\n\nNancy chuckled.\"Oh, my kids are the same way.\" Boulder jumped off the bed and they made their way to the next room.\n\n\"So, any exciting new diagnoses this week?\" Jordan asked, as Boulder snuggled up to the next patient.\n\n\"What, cancer isn't exciting enough for you?\" Nancy chided.\n\n\"Oh! I just - I mean...like...toenail cancer or something,\" Jordan fumbled, suddenly abashed at his own lack of sensitivity. \"Nevermind.\" He finished lamely. Nurse Nancy was laughing at him though. Boulder, Jordan, and Nancy finished up the rooms in that hallway, Boulder snuggling his head up to each and every patient's chest.\n\n\"You ready to go buddy?\" Jordan called to Boulder, sitting down for a second. Boulder jumped up onto his lap, snuggling his head against Jordan's chest.\n\n\"Would you look at that,\" Nancy cooed. \"It's like he thinks you're a cancer patient.\"\n\n\"Haha, yeah...\" Jordan trailed off lamely, a seed of suspicion suddenly taking root in his mind.\n\nBoulder yowled.", "The doctors had just given me the bad news and have decided that I should be the one to tell my best friend that they have cancer.\n\nThe doctor's logic for this? It would sound better coming from someone they knew.\n\nWhat was probably the real reason? My friend was 6' 5\", 300 pounds of pure muscle, and had sever anger management problems. Just ask the poor nurse who tried to give him a shot earlier. Don't get me wrong, he's already weakened from the cancer, but can a deer stop a truck and trailer barreling down a highway? Sure, it might cause it to spin out and crash eventually (if it can get under the tires), but for now, my friend was still the truck. And he still hadn't felt the impact from the deer.\n\nI should have said that I wouldn't do it, but thanks to my push-over nature, I told the doctors that I would. Yay.\n\nI slowly poked my head into the small hospital room where my friend was. Where Jake was. Maybe he's asleep?* I hoped as I opened the door a little wider.\n\n\"Hey! Winston! Buddy!\" He shouted from the clean white hospital bed.\n\nFuck. He wasn't asleep, and that bed probably wasn't going to stay a clean white for much longer. I opened the door all the way and took two meek steps into the room. I made sure the door was left open. Always have an escape route when in a room with Haramb- I mean... Someone the size of a gorilla. \"Hey Jake. How's life?\" I joked.\n\nJake shrugged. \"Alright, I guess. No one will tell me anything though.\" He absentmindedly stroked his python arms, sending shivers up my spine as I thought of all the ways that he could kill me with them.\n\n\"Really?\" I said taking another hesitant step closer to him. \"W-Well, they sent me here to tell you something...\"\n\nSomething about the way I said it must have tipped him off. Weather it was the stutter, the trail off at the end, or a combination of the two, he stood up off the hospital bed and closed the distance between me and him. He tilted his head up and looked at me down his nose, suspicion glinting in his eyes. \"What did you want to tell me.\"\n\nI instinctively hunched over and looked at my Marty McFly shoes. They were vintage. \"Well...\"\n\n\"Winston?\" Jake's voice was stern.\n\n\"You see...\" I looked at the white hospital wall.\n\nJake moved his head so that he death glare filled my gaze. \"What. Did. They. Send. You. To. Tell. Me?\" He was done messing around, though, I don't that he was ever up for it anyway.\n\n\"You might,\" I inched back closer to the door. \"have...\" It was still wide open for me to escape. \" ^^cancer ^^in ^^you ^^balls! \" I turned and bolted for the door. As I sprinted down the hall with the speed and elegance of a free range chicken, dodging nurses and people-carts with ER patients on them, I heard laughing.\n\nWas that the doctors? I though. Nah. It couldn't be. And they definitely wouldn't be laughing at me. There's no way the trained medical professionals would ever set up a man like me to tell his friend about a fake cancer. Nope. Nuh huh. No way. That's the kind of stuff that only happens on TV and popular story prompting websites.\n\nI Usain Bolted my way out of the hospital without ever looking back.\n", "\"Hey bud,\" I said as I cracked open a beer for him and poured it into his favorite drinking cup that I bought him a few years back.\n\n\"You have cancer.\"\n\nHe was a mute and couldn't speak but he could read my facial features. With sad eyes he lapped up a taste and looked at me with displeasure.\n\n\"Sorry mate, I thought that you might just want a greater taste of what life can offer you.\"\n\nHe forgave me by wagging his tail and rested his head upon my lap. I scratched him behind the ears as I silently wept about his eventual passing.", "\"Dude, you have cancer.\" \n\"Eh, what?\" \n\"I said you have cancer.\" \n\"Yeah, I heard you. It's not funny though, my ma had cancer.\" \n\"I'm not kidding, you actually have cancer.\" \n\"Holy shit man, I can tell when you're being a shithead. If I actually had cancer the doctor would have told me.\" \n\"The doctor couldn't tell you, I'm the only one who can tell you!\" \n\"What are you going on about?\" \n\"The prompt, it says I'm the only one who can tell you!\" \n\"You what mate?\" \n\"The prompt says I'm the only one who can tell you.\" \n\"What fucking prompt? The hell you talking about man?\" \n\"Look, there's a prompt, and it says I'm the only one who can tell you about your cancer!\" \n\"You are fucking nuts, I have shit to do now.\" \n\"No, really man, you are going to die, YOU FUCKING HAVE CANCER!\" \n\"I think you need to go see a doctor\" \n\"BUT IT SAYS RIGHT THERE, you have cancer, and I'm the only one who can tell you!\" \n\"Fuck man, I'm done with your shit. I'm trying to watch Star Trek here, leave me alone.\" \n\"But...but... you're dying, I don't want you to die...\" \n...these are the voyages of the starship enterprise...\"Shutup already\" \n\n&nbsp; \n\nAnd so he died of cancer, as nobody could tell him about it but the least reliable and trustworthy source. Thanks yhamdi, thanks.", "You were my best friend, my roommate, my family for the past ten years. When I opened the letter, I had hoped it wouldn't come to this. \n\nAnd now you were sitting on the couch opposite me. You were smiling, completely oblivious. In stark contrast to my current state of mind. You sensed something was wrong so you came closer trying to comfort me. \n\n\"I'm sorry that I don't think you'll understand this buddy,\" I told him, \"but you have cancer. That means you... You're going to...\"\n\nI couldn't finish the last sentence. The thought of it brought me to tears, but you just wagged your tail. But as always, whenever I cried you were there to comfort me with a hug, even when you had no understanding of the situation. " ]	6
	[WP] You're a down-on-his-luck gumshoe with a noir inner monologue. Recently, you've noticed that your monologue is getting a bit TOO good at predicting what's going to happen next...	[ "My being shines with the glow of a man with a good mind and a good heart. As I walk down the darkened, crime riddled street with a new kind of thinking, feeling like this route may be the one where I get a promotion, I notice a guy. Not just any guy, but a wise guy. The type who do whatever it takes to get into a gang. And it seems that's what this snake eyed, dog lipped shmuck was planning to do. I only have my instincts to go off of, so of course I could be wrong. Could just be a young recently down-on-his-luck joe with a tendency to lean towards the Daniel's than the Joe. \n\nBut that ain't a risk I'm willing to take, considering his overcoat and his two sizes too small hat act as barriers to make me turn a blind eye to whatever kind of mischief he's hiding under them. I ain't no average kinda cop. I'm one who has the law follow him, not the other way around. Might be why I got made a patrol man in the first place. But will it stop me? Not at all.\n\n\"Hey pal, lemme chin wag with ya for a bit huh?\" I say as he gets nearer in my grasp, a look of youthful vibrance in his face that's hard to come by in this city anymore. Something tells his baby face ain't a face that gives off the sweetness an actual baby would. That's probably because I just saw him pull a piece of heat from his left pocket though after asking me a question. \n\n\"Sure thing officer. What's rsttling around in your brain right now besides my heat?!\" He shouts, tossing his coat back and raising my potential Grim Reaper at me.\n\nI gotta act fast. Time slows down, everything goes black and white, the world is not the world anymore. This is my life or my death, this sidewalk. I pull my piece, only to get struck in the shoulder, but not before firing off a few shots. Burning rage and wounds cover my body as I fight to stay alive as a hail of metal death enters my body. I collapse, my body slamming against the concrete as if God himself had thrown me down. And as I close my eyes, the sun gets brighter yet colder. And it all becomes warm again at the blink of an eye. \n\n\"Sure thing Officer, what's rattling around in your brain right no-\" He gets cut off, his words being replaced by an ear shattering shriek, one you'd hear in a scary drive-in movie when the girl finally gets her just desserts after making one bad decision too many. \n\nHe falls, his coat sprawling around him and his hat flying off his head, revealing his whole ugly mug and the pain he's in. I panic, thinking that there's a killer on these streets. Not in my streets. As I look around though, I hear a sentence. Not just any sentence. A sentence you never wanna hear as you stand over someone bleeding to death on a Manhattan sidewalk. \n\n\"Fuckin cop shot me! For no reason!\" The words echo in my head, leaving me dazed and weak at the knees. I then look down, almost fainting at the sight. My six piece. Clutched in my hands underneath trembling white knuckles, making it look like I've been taking one too many shots of the ol' sauce. \n\nI then look towards the dying shmuck's hands, expecting to see a pea shooter, but onely seeing thin air. Speaking of thin air, I can't seem to get enough. My chest is ready to collapse in on itself faster than a third world country's government. \nBut then I look to his waist. His pocket. And there it is. \n\nThe piece. Suddenly my eyes begin to replay what went down. And I have a realization. One that would make any other man question his sanity. The guy didn't move his gun all the way out. Never finished his sentence. Never even lifted his head. But I know what happened. I saw it happen, I know I did. But, of course, I knew it was my instinct, my instinct doesn't kick in without reason.\n\n\"You were gonna blast me away were't ya you punk?\" I scream, not even caring that half the borough can hear me. \n\n\"What are you talking abou- oooowwwwww- out? You pig. I'mma make sure your whole family gets the treatment you should have gotten.\" He coughs out, before letting out a deep groan, then a boom. From behind, which corresponds with a mist of bright red blood shooting from a quarter sized hole in his head. Contrasting with the black and white filter thay seems to have overlayed the world perfectly, flying through the air beautifully as the world once again seems to just... stop existing. \n\n\"Guess you could say he was dead to rights huh jack?\" A voice says behind me, before more booms, which cause my back to burn like hell and make me see the brightness and feel the coldness of the sun before I hit the ground. \n\nUntil it becomes warm again and I'm standing over a screaming baby face punk who was gonna kill me. Then, as if on cue, I turn around to see two fat guineas walking like a married couole towards me, essentially hand in hand. \n\n\"Guess you could sa-\" I don't let them get off any wise marks before raising my gun, bursting their heads like fucking water balloons. They buckle under their own weight and slam to the ground, their fat jiggling like a blob of Jell-O as they roll around like a few seals before finally becoming limp. Gone. \n\nAs I turn back to my man though, I get a sharp pain in my chest. One that can inly be compared to that of a broken heart afyer years of commitment and happiness. But instead of that, it's a blade, being plunged into my heart as the young punks face seems ti be draining of color, which confuses me since it's usually supposed to be the other way around. But as I fall to the ground, it feels like a million years to reach it as I fall slower than molasses moves, before being blinded by another flash and feeling of cold and sudden warmth. \n\nBoom.\n\nA grunt from behind, the feeling of warmth spraying across my back. I don't even need to look. I know what happened, just based on the cars now speeding past which pick up more speed as the people inside scream in pure, unadulterated horror. But I'm not worried. I know I was right. Instinct like that don't kick in unless something bad is gonna happen. Which just proved my case of how I had them...\n\nDead.\nTo.\nRights." ]	1
	[WP] You are an almighty deity who was tasked in creating one planet, and you created Earth. The only planet known to harbor life. But now you meet another deity from far far away who has also created life on their planet.	[ "(first timer, sorry if i made mistake with the rules/guidelines)\n\n\"WHEW, I need to rest after this\"\nan young man, covered in white robe, sat down on the Sun,\nwith his feet resting on Mercury. \"I think that's enough for now,\"\nhe said softly as he relax and admiring his greatest work of art.\n\n\"Hey\" said the other young man, also dressed in white robe. the\nyoung man, who was sitting on the sun, stare in disbelief. \"Where\ndid you come from?\" he looked around. \"Never mind where I came\nfrom,\" he scoffed at him. \"What do you think you're doing with my spot!\"\nhe bellowed. \"this is your spot?\" the sitting deity answer softly. \"Do you not\nsee the sign?\" He pointed at the sun, where the young man was sitting on top of,\n\"This system is reserved by the House of Sol\", the young man read out loud.\n\n\"to be fair, I didn't see the sign,\" the young man reply. \"Of course not, because\nthe light's not even on\" Sol said as he went to flick his finger to illuminated \nthe Sun. \"Oh so that how you turn on the light\" the young man said. \"What are you\ndoing here, and what's that\" Sol said as he look at the blue and green colored ball\n\"That is Earth, my friend\" the young man said proudly. \"Umm, that's Earth?\" Sol\nsaid in confused. \"Yes, why you ask?\" the young man look back in alarmed voice.\n\n\"Well, I also created Earth as well\" Sol said as he pull out his version of\nEarth. The young man look in amazed as both version look quite\nsimilar. \"So, what's now?\" the young man said as they both look at both\nEarth. \"Well since I've already reserved this spot, take your stuff and get out!\"\nSol shouted as he kick the earth out of the position. \"FINE!\" the young man\nsaid in anger as he took his earth and stomped off. \"I'll take my earth and set\nit somewhere else!\". \n\nSol smiled as he set his earth in position and sigh deeply. \"this is going to be\ngreat!\" he giggle as he decided to populated the planet with strange creatures.\n\"Hey Sol\" one of the guys shouted, \"come play ball with us\". Sol waved and took off\nto join the others, An few minutes later a fast ball came hurling toward Earth. " ]	1
I'm assuming that she'll look closer to Lily than James.	[WP] Instead of Harry Potter, it's the Girl Who Lived: Jasmine Potter. Describe her encounter with Snape	[ "\"Impossible.....\" Snape thought to himself.\n\n He fought back tears as he met eyes with the daughter of the woman he loved most. He wore a scowl to hide the wave of emotion that was suddenly inundating him.\n\n'I knew this day would come..... but I never thought I'd be prepared for it,' Snape thought to himself.\n\nShe raised an eyebrow curiously and managed a weak smile before the Potter girl turned and began to speak nervously with the other first year students in line with her, as the sorting ceremony approached.\n\n'Surely she'll be placed in Gryffindor, like her parents,' supposing Snape in his mind. \n\nHe couldn't help but wish that she'd be placed in Slytherin where he could care for her more than that tight-wad McGonagall. She could be great. That cursed James had managed to do so in his insufferable house, but he knew that Jasmine Potter, the girl who lived, could be so much more than her parents ever dreamed of becoming.\n\nShe had no idea of her potential. She might never learn or fully understand the prophecy. She really was the \"Chosen One,\" known only by a few. Snape silently prayed to the heavens and closed his eyes as the small girl approached the stool, and the hat was placed upon her tiny head.\n\nHe pleaded silently to whomever may have been listening. \n\n\".....Gryffindor!\" The hat had bellowed so the whole Great Hall could hear. \n\nSnape's heart dropped like a lead weight. Tears filled his eyes. He knew that moment that he would never mean anything to this little girl, who knew nothing of the anguish he would go through to see her grow. He would only be her guardian, forced to keep his distance emotionally in order to function. Snape dreaded the thought of the next seven years at Hogwarts." ]	1
	[WP] You are a senior medical student who just accepted a job, working in the cellar of medical school, preparing cadavers for the new students' dissection classes. Your first "assignment" lays in front of you.	[ "Often enough, I get asked why I wash my hands before I get to work. I'm not so sure myself any more, but while I'm humming to myself, rinsing off the soap and counting out the time until I'm done... it's cathartic. A ritual, more than anything. \n\nUsually, people like me have a nurse, or an assistant. I don't much care for disturbances during my time, and so the usual struggle with the flimsy latex gloves begins... and ends, a few minutes later, with the satisfied 'sqeak' of my index finger and thumb rubbing together. \n\nGood. \n\nI finally step into my little room - dark and cold, and quiet. Just how I like it. A few switches are flicked, and a few knobs turned... and, there it is. People would think it weird, if they knew just what I listen to, while I work. A german power-metal band singing about werewolves, vampires and the church - but I find it very calming, and it helps me focus. I've got their albums as records, too... not too many bands release them, but lately they've been coming back. Something I quite approve of, really. \n\nI quite like this time of year. Summer is turning into autumn, the heat slowly disperses, and insects stop bothering. A time of learning approaches, and I'm looking forward to seeing these halls come alive again. But to learn, we need - unfortunately - corpses. I've always been interested in this kind of work, and I've quite the fascination with dying, death, and what comes beyond. \n\nFirst one... Mr. King. How regal. I put the chart back into place, and pull the metal slab out before me. Ah, the smell of corpses in the morning. Or, rather...\n\n\"Missed me, Mr. King?\" I ask, squeezing his cheeks and forcing him to look at me. I bet the surgical mask obscures much of my face, but they say you smile with your eyes, so maybe he can tell. I digress. \n\n\"Well, I doubt you'd remember me. The last time we met has to be, oh... about eighteen years ago?\" I pull the tray with my tools closer, and the quiet, metallic rattle punctuates the silence. I made sure he wouldn't make a peep during his 'stay', and I didn't expect much of a response. \"A little kid with no name, how could you remember. But, I remember you. Oh, quite vividly.\"\n\nI pick up the first of no doubt many scalpels, and examine it for a moment. \"Well, Mr. King. It's about time I showed my gratitude.\" I hiss, and cut him open. He manages a weak moan, but the steady drip of the IV I'd give him when I put him in the little metal box I'd just pulled him out of did its job well enough. No, he'd never move again. \n\nI do, love this job. It's messy, takes a steady hand... and the hours are atrocious, but no profession is perfect, and the students will appreciate having another body to work with, even if he's not technically supposed to be here. \n\nA couple hours go by, and he finaly wheezes his last wheeze... the sound is music to my ears, and I'm reminded of just why I love my job. ", "Dr. Eaton finished walking Nathan around the cramped cold room. Nathan was slowly trying to become comfortable with the fact that behind small stainless steel doors were dead bodies. In the center of the room laying on the prep table was a sheet covering a corpse, it gave him chills. He tried to ignore the goose bumps on his arms and act casual in front of the veteran doctor. \n\n\"So, yeah, that's pretty much it,\" Dr. Eaton said showing me around the cooler. That was the nickname Dr. Eaton had given the prep room for cadavers. \n\n\"Start with this one and get to work,\" he said pointing to the body on the table. \"Make sure you lock up when you are done, we don't want anyone getting out.\"\n\n\"Uh what?\" Nathan asked nervously.\n\n\"I'm just kidding! Have a great night, seriously this is the best job in the hospital. Conversation can be lacking at times...\" Dr. Eaton trailed off and sighed when Nathan didn't laugh at his joke.\n\n\"Anyway, you have fun.\" Dr. Eaton made his way out the door. Two seconds later he pushed his head inside the room and said flatly, \"don't have sex with them, I didn't think that needed to be said but you'd be surprised.\" With that his head vanished behind the door and he was gone.\n\n\"Gross.\"\n\nNathan walked over to the table with a body laying on it. A stark white sheet was draped over the corpse. Nathan took a deep breath and lifted the sheet. \n\nThe corpse burst to life flailing and shouting. Nathan screamed and fell backward into the tray holding the scalpels and saws. Metal tools scattered around the room, Nathan turned to run out of the room and ran directly into a hysterically laughing Dr. Eaton.\n\n\"Oh my god that was the best one yet!\" he howled.\n\nDr. Morrison climbed off of the prep table wiping tears from his face and trying to stifle his laughter. \n\n\"I-I-think he peed!\" Dr. Morrison wheezed out.\n\n\"Oh screw you! You scared the shit out of me!\" Nathan shouted.\n\n\"Happens to every newbie, welcome to the team!\" Dr. Eaton patted Nathan on the back and helped Dr. Morrison out of the room leaving Nathan alone once again.\n\n\"I should have listened to my mom and gone to law school...\"\n\n---\n\nThanks for reading! Check out /r/Written4Reddit for more!" ]	2
	[WP] About 30 years into the future, humanity is coming to an end. Scientists have discovered that WiFi has a hidden long term negative affect to the human body that likely results in death. You may be the last chance of hope...	[ "“Free-Cancer!” Unsecured, signal strength excellent, password free. The network name flashed up before being quickly scrubbed from her system. “DiFi” appeared on the network list for a moment before meeting the same fate. Dr. Janice Sulaweyo laughed at the poor jokes, despite herself; it took a whole lot longer for wireless networks to kill you than the few seconds it took for anti-wifi to catch them. Besides, it was too late for her. And possibly, most of humanity for that matter. \n\nThe first commercial neuroplants debuted nearly thirty years ago, and as a then young woman on the frontier of technology, she was one of the first to hop on the bandwagon. Neuroplants spread like wildfire, and within the decade even third world countries were getting them. Who wanted to miss the next iPhone? A simple surgery, a few hundred dollars, and bam; instant access to the entirety of the human body of knowledge. Wifi, social media, entertainment, communication, all beamed directly to the brain in the time it would take to blink. Surely it seemed to be the next step in the homo-sapien evolutionary rung, praised by science and public media alike. \n\nThe safety of the neuroplants was of course taken extremely seriously, but study after study seemed to substantiate the same message: No danger. They were right of course, the devices themselves were entirely harmless. Or at least, they would be until she was through. Death wasn’t coming from the technology inside us but from that without, waves and waves of it beamed at us from all directions. The biggest scandal since cigarettes. WiFi causes cancer. \nShe coughed violently in her hospital bed, small flecks of blood coming up with each exhale. Two more weeks, and that was little more than an optimistic guess. \n\n“Dr. Sulaweyo? How are we feeling today?” The nurse inquired, her voice exuding professional calm. Her smile was strained, forced. \n\n“Please Anne,” She said weakly flashing a forced grin of her own. “Call me Janice.” \n\n“Janice then. Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable?” \n\nThat’s what it had come down to. All they could do was try and make humanity comfortable in their final days, to ease the pain of their people’s last gasp of life. They would all be dead within the next decade.\nShe could see Anne’s neurojack poking out from the side of her skull, cleverly hidden behind a thick veil of brunette hair. Her stony exterior almost cracked then, the dam behind her eyes threatening to burst. 9 billion people, for a small chance humanity may survive, a statistic, a simple calculation of probabilities. Here before her stood just one human life, flesh and blood entirely different than a simple number. Yet the logical side of her could not deny the harsh reality. Even Anne, who was in her early thirties and had direct access to some of the best treatments the medical world could offer being a nurse, was beginning to show the early signs of cancer. \n\n“I’m feeling fine, thank you. Has anything arrived for me in the mail?”\n\n“Yes actually, a fairly large package, I’ll bring it up for you Doctor.” \n\nA few minutes later Anne returned with a large cardboard box, setting it on the floor beside her. Janice’s heart beat quickly now, sweat beading her clammy skin. A sick feeling settled heavily down in the pit of her stomach, as if she’d swallowed a brick of something sour. \n\nThe nurse frowned at her. \n\n“Are you sure you’re feeling alright? Perhaps you should rest.”\n\nIt had to be now, before her resolve left her. Before she could allow humanity to doom itself. Janice began shaking her head before thinking better of it.\n\n“Actually some rest would be wonderful, could you please close the door? I don’t want to be disturbed.” \n\nAfter the nurse had left she spurred herself to action before she could change her mind. Hands trembling violently, she ripped the tubes from her body and stood on unsteady feet. Her head spun for a moment and she resisted another bout of violent coughing. Steeling herself, she set her feet and pushed her hospital bed inch by excruciating inch until finally it wedged heavily against the door. Going back to the package it took her several long moments of struggled tearing to force the package open. \n\nInside lay two sleek metallic gauntlets. They were custom made and cost her a fortune, not that money mattered much anymore. Slipping them on one at a time, she took a deep breath and reached out to the neurotransmitter embedded in her brain tissue. It synced up to the neurogauntlents in moments, and just like that she was back on the web. \n\n‘Doctor’ was not simply a title; she’d studied computer science since the early nineties, nearly sixty years ago now. Her hands were a blur as she worked, more muscle memory than any concentrated effort. In moments the hospital’s firewall was disabled. It wouldn’t be long before they came for her, networks were rigorously monitored and government controlled since the discovery. She didn’t have time to be subtle nor elegant, and if they shut her down too early all would be lost. Breaking into the global neural network would take some time, perhaps there was enough time for a single call. \n\nShe dialed the number as she worked. Multi-tasking was another one of the benefits of the neurotransmitters. \n\n“Dr. Sulaweyo?” \n\n“Nathan, do you recall what we talked about last month?” \n\nShe could visualize him frowning at her using his first name. Good, perhaps that would get his attention. \n\n“Janice you know I can’t speak any more on that, that’s confidential. I shouldn’t have even told you what I did. Is this a secure line?” \n\n“The wireless transmissions, we stopped them too late.” \nShe continued on heedless of his objections. “The damage has been done, billions of us will die. You told me that even if we never transmitted another wireless signal again, even if a person doesn’t have a neurotransmitter in their body now, they can still develop cancer.” \n\n“Yes, but I spoke to you of this in confidence. I thought we agreed nothing would come of telling the world aside from mass hysteria.” There was an anger in his voice, and it was a sullen, sorry thing. \n\nA voice called to her from the other side of the door, the doorknob jangling as they tried to enter. She ignored it. \n\n“You said that even with all the WiFi connections turned off it was too late. WE are the transmitters now, that the billions of us still alive with neurotransmitters are constantly beaming the harmful signals to those all around us. That humanity had killed itself.” \n\nThe voices on the other side of the door grew louder and more frantic. It shook, something slamming against it hard, but it held. \n\n“Dr. Sulaweyo what’s going on over there?” Nathan asked with a hint of worry. “Janice?” \n\n“I can stop it Nathan,” She whispered, tears wavering at the corner of her eyes. “I can overload every single neurotransmitter on the planet. I can end the signals once and for all, give humanity a fighting chance.” \n\nThe last line of defense on the global neurotransmitter network fell away. She was in. Outside the banging intensified, door opening a crack as the hospital bed was forced backwards. \n\n“Jesus Janice.” Nathan replied in stark horror. “You intend to kill us all!” \n\n“Not all of us. Of those with transmitters Ninenty two percent won’t survive the overload, and six percent will suffer permanent brain damage. But some will survive.” \n\nShe sounded oddly calm, for a woman who was about to commit the greatest genocide in human history. Her hands moved even faster now as she sifted through the network, preparing the data bomb. It would be over in moments, one quick surge of power directed to every single brain in the world. Then nothing.\n\n“We are poisoning our own people. I’m simply shutting off the transmissions.” \n\n“We’re not talking about some cell phone towers here, we’re talking human lives Janice!” \n\n“Goodbye Nathan.” \n\nShe silenced his protests, cutting off the connection. A group of orderlies burst into the room, stumbling as they franticly pushed the bed aside. She was out of time. \n\nWith a final flourish of her neurogantlents she detonated the data bomb. \n\nA shard of pain exploded in her mind, and she fell to the floor. The orderlies writhed on the floor beside her, clutching their heads. Someone was screaming. Perhaps it was her. No, it was the whole world. She could feel them all, 9 billion lives joined together in one final moment of agony. Smoke leaked from their neurojacks as they twitched, one man’s eyes rolled up in the back of his head. \n\nAnd then there was suddenly silence, sweet and dark and warm. \n" ]	1
	[WP] Two immortals discuss their favorite ways to die	[ "Tim pondered for a moment. \"Well, I can certainly answer the opposite of your question: drowning. It left quite the impression on me when I look back at my deaths and, at this point, rate them. I'm too anxious or can't stop moving. I have to be doing something. Drowning is just too slow. Definitely painful. I think you'd like it.\"\n\n\"Just answer the question.\" David sat waiting for his best friend answer the question he has asked so many other immortals.\n\n\"Fine. Fine. My favorite deaths have been quick with some level of pain. Blades to the neck or arms.\"\n\n\"So that time back in Constantinople? When an arrow hit you in the eye and just after you pulled it out, some guy with a spear pinned you in the fetal position? I found you with a smirk on your face.\"\n\n\"Shit. Yeah, anything like that I prefer or seek. David, we have been alive for over 2 thousand years, how much do you remember?\"\n\n\"Basically everything. You should go to those monks I told you about. 30 years isn't a sweat for us. While there I remembered the first time I died.\"\n\n\"So that's why you asked me this damn question.\"\n\n\"Sort of.\"\n\n\"Was that your favorite?\"\n\n\"No. Too much fear. The second time I died was my favorite.\"\n\n\"When did it happen? What happened? You've piqued my curiosity.\"\n\n\"First death was when I was 15 years old. Attacked by wolves. You can imagine coming of age rituals. Didn't go down without a fight though. Well, our seers were good at their jobs and they evaluated each of us when we returned. Three of our seers saw nothing but black when they viewed me - strike one. Our high seer delved into my head and realized I might with our god of death - strike two. My own father tore off my tunic to reveal my still healing body - strike three.\"\n\n\"THEY LOBBED OFF YOUR HEAD!?\"\n\n\"No, but I wish they did. I was tortured for five years. The next generation of executioners were being trained, so they used me as a dummy for torture methods. There was this one particular kind of bastard, my brother. He got smart and good. He broke my neck each night before leaving, but I was still alive. Healed by morning.\"\n\n\"How long did that last?\"\n\n\"Few months give or take. Until, I was fed up. So when he broke my neck one night, just before I fully healed, I twisted my head until it broke again, each time, for 6 hours. That pain was excruciating. Everyone came in to see me hanging the next morning. I looked up. Smiled. Twisted my head around like an owl, killing myself.\"\n\n\"That was your favorite? Suicide was your favorite death? I know you were in huge accidents and ritualistic killings and firing squads. Why on Earth is your suicide your favorite?\"\n\n\"When you let others kill you, you give them strength or power. Power to continue or to change their paths. When I kill myself in front of my captors, torturers, or whomever, I take their power away. They see that I die with a smile on my face. When I return, I become the torturer. They now know that I can continue on and break them. They know that I can't be broken since I walk with Death on a leash.\"\n\n\"David, you're messed up.\"\n\n\"Probably. Not as bad as a few others. But I totally agree with you: fuck drowning.\"\n\n\"You wanna go fuck with a bear?\"\n\n\"Hell yeah!\"\n", "He seemed, once again, happy to engage with an old acquaintance it'd been a long time since seeing. They laughed and reminisced, discussing the old times they'd had together before they realised their strength and invulnerability. \n\n\"I don't think I've had a connection with many people in a while. I'm more solitary now.\"\n\n\"Well that's understandable, everyone else is either foreign, unknown, or dead. We should be dead,\" uttered his counterpart.\n\n\"You know what I mean. It's been a long time since I've had any human interaction of any sort, and it's developed into something of a craving. I feel like it's a human necessity that's grown stronger each day I haven't had it.\" The man stands up and goes to walk away but is followed immediately in the same direction, as though he's being blocked. \n\n\"Where are you going?\"\n\n\"Please, let me through.\"\n\n\"I can't. We've been looking for a spot to meet again for ages.\"\n\n\"I'm over hearing my own voice.\"\n\n\"Please, stay.\"\n\n\"I- I remember once when everyone around me dropped, I tried so many times to join them; who I loved, who I missed, who I wanted. Who I needed. It started getting enjoyable, in a way. Soon we figured out we couldn't die, remember? When we first figured it out, we had such enjoyment.\"\n\n\"The bungee jumping?\"\n\n\"The bungee jumping! Who needs a cord? We certainly didn't! And the 'hot tub'!\"\n\n\"Ha, the 'hot tub', yes! I don't think the Pompeians would be too pleased if they could see us now. They weren't as good as us!\"\n\n\"Fun times... Really, I do have to go. I have things to do.\"\n\n\"Don't lie to yourself,\" he insisted.\n\n\"No, I'm serious, I have- I need to, to, to see someone.\"\n\n\"Everyone's dead.\"\n\n\"I'm going.\"\n\nThe mirror cracked.", "In the heavens above, two immortals stood\n\nDiscussing how death might do them some good\n\nOne said, \"I'd like to know that empty, dark feeling\n\nOf sinking through water; the waves now my ceiling.\"\n\n\n\nThe other one laughed, for this game was delightful\n\nImagining death was rather insightful\n\n\"Drowning drags on; your lungs start to burn\n\nNow if you don't mind, I believe it's my turn!\"\n\n\n\nThe second immortal pondered his death\n\nDeveloping quick ways to take his last breath\n\nBreath...breath...ah! An inspiration!\n\n\"I could do better than lack of aeration!\"\n\n\n\n\"I'm not interested in long, painful process\n\nWhat if a gun shot me right in the chest?\"\n\nThe first one imagined his brother covered in blood\n\nThe red liquid gushing in the form of a flood\n\n\n\n\"That seems really messy,\" the first immortal cringed\n\n\"I hear fire is cleaner; it all just gets singed!\"\n\n\n\n\"Now that does sound mess-free,\" his brother replied\n\n\"You could sweep up my ashes and brush them aside.\"\n\nThe discussion wore on, each topping the other\n\nLaughing and drinking with an immortal brother", "\"That's a difficult question to answer,\" John mumbled, scratching his chin, \"but the atomic bomb is definitely up there. That one overloaded my pain receptors, gave me this nice numbing feel.\"\n\n\nThere was silence as Lana stared at John. John stared back, his sleek hair fluttering ever so faintly in the gentle breeze. In the distance, a bird chirped.\n\n\n\"Wait, so...\" Lana rolled the words in her mouth, trying to formulate a coherent response. \"You were blown up by an atomic bomb.\"\n\n\"Well, I was roughly 700 yards away from ground zero, so it was more of... being set on fire and being flung around? I guess.\" John looked away and sipped his coffee. It was a flavorful light roast, his go-to beverage when discussing trivial matters such as death. \"The flash blinded me for quite a long time so I didn't actually see much. And the blast flung me back so hard I had a minor concussion. A mortal would have either vaporized or carbonized, or pulverized of he was further away and the shock wave sends them into a building or something.\"\n\n\nJohn closed his eyes as he let out a soft sigh. Lana squinted her emerald eyes as she studied his face. She had seen this expression before. He was probably recollecting and reliving the experience right now.\n\n\n\"But how?\" She scooted along the park bench, getting closer to him. \"Were you at like Hiroshima or something?\"\n\n\n\"Sort of, I was in the bomber that dropped it.\" He opened his eyes and looked at her, beaming. \"I was known as George back then. I was the tail gunner.\"\n\n\nLana ran her fingers through her long, black hair. Processing the information.\n\n\n\"I even took photos!\" said George, taking out his phone. \"I think they have it on the wikipedia page or something, but I have the original film back home! I can bring the real thing next-\"\n\n\n\"So you weren't actually in it?\" Lana looked at her friend, arms crossed.\n\n\n\"What do you mean?\" asked John.\n\n\n\"Like the atomic bomb. You were in the plane, right? You didn't actually get blown-\"\n\n\n\"Not that time.\" John slipped his phone back into his pocket.\n\n\nLana's jaw dropped. \"There's another time?\"\n\n\n\"They had an experiment in mid... 1946,\" said John, \"You see, after seeing the thing go off, the mushroom cloud, I was captivated.\"\n\n\n\"Right.\"\n\n\n\"Yeah!\" John's eyes gleamed. \"Like, I had been blown up by normal bombs before but I just knew that was something different. I simply had to try it.\"\n\n\n\"Seems like your brain was fried even before that.\" Lana scoffed.\n\n\n\"So, after the war, I dug around to see if they were going to use it again.\" John continued on, ignoring her. \"That's how I found myself at that experiment. They were testing it on ships you see, so I sneaked on to one of them! It was a Japanese battleship I think... I was in the coning tower when the bomb blew up! The view up there was a-maz-ing.\"\n\n\n\"You said you were blinded.\" Lana narrowed her eyes.\n\n\n\"I didn't say I got to enjoy the view for very long.\" John sipped the last of his coffee. \"But the 'death' was the main point, no?\"\n\n\n\"I guess.\" Lana shrugged. \"It's just hard to believe, you know?\"\n\n\n\"Come on. Your favorite way is death by mammoth.\" John rolled his eyes. \"I find that hard to believe, you know? Like, you could have chosen a cooler animal like a saber-tooth tiger or titanoboa, you know?\"\n\n\n\"Those were dangerous yes, but we didn't purposefully hunt those. There was no point.\" Lana pouted. John did not share her enthusiasm for more 'purposeful' deaths. \"Hunting the mammoth, the ultimate prize, with a entire group of hunters? There's a thrill to it when everyone's lives depends on each other in taking down a towering beast with nothing but arrows, spears and axes. Kind of like a raiding party taking down a boss for the epic in video games, you know?\"\n\n\n\"I guess?\" said John. \"But that's like thousands of years ago.\"\n\n\n\"I know.\" Lana sighed, moving her arms to draw an imaginary bow. \"I'm still trying to find a replacement for it.\"\n\n\n\"I heard they are going to send people to colonize mars soon. Think about all the things that could go wrong! Wouldn't it be cool to die in another planet? Maybe that will give you the thrill.\"\n\n\n\"You and your crazy ideas\" Lana laughed, her voice crisp. \"Do I look like NASA material to you?\"\n\n\n\"There's this Mars One program thingy.\" John looked up into the sky. \"They're not NASA and I heard that the accept civilian applications. We could apply together.\"\n\n\n\"No thanks.\" Lana leaned back. \"That's way too much effort just to try out a new death. Maybe you're up for it, but not me.\"\n\n\n\"Your loss.\" John flung his empty cup at the trash can. It missed. \"I'll definitely do that one day, whether I get into NASA or Mars One or whatever. Maybe I will sneak on to a spaceship this time.\"\n\n\n\"Maybe.\" Said Lana as she looked out. \"Maybe.\"\n\n\nThe air fell into silence again as the two friends simply sat. The gentle breeze blew up a single, reddened leaf, making it dance in front of them.\n\n\n\"Want to go get electrocuted?\" asked John, standing up.\n\n\n\"Sure thing.\" Lana smiled, following her friend. \"It has been a while.\"", "\"I prefer a skydiving accident,\" Jake said to an empty room with circularly arranged chairs.\n\nJake never really bothered to go to any Immortals Anonymous meetings. Only one person was ever immortal at any given time, and it was him. His memories, unbound in time and death, served to tell him that much. Besides, someone could send out a prank call like that. Just to see if someone shows up, or to see if someone is actually immortal. Whatever the case, Jake never cared. His life was a good life, full of carefree journeys, riches, good times, bad times, death, and yet the experiences were all the same - of human ideals, of human limitations in every aspect of life. Being human is what led him to develop memories, and he rued the day he was born human. \n\nHis life and species based reincarnation was limited to existing species at any given moment. So he was the only soul on Earth. And when he died, he was reborn into the same species, but a slightly different member. The cycle repeated until he was reborn into all members of the species, spread out during millions of years. He only deduced that when he started having visions of his previous lives. What he called deja vu, or reincarnation. His soul was reborn into every single creature of a given species until he was every member of that species. And then he moved on to the next. Jake never remembered anything, but certain lives were anomalies, with more neural pathways than others... Ones that could support his previous lives all at once. He died so many times he never could figure out who he was at the current moment in time. The older he got as a member, the more the memories flooded into him, their load ruining his body, shortening his life span, breaking his DNA into pieces and killing him cell by cell, memory of death by memory of death. And when he died, he forgot. And thus, when he got older, the senile version of himself yet again, he knew he should try to kill himself to prevent death from killing him the painful way - the trial by memory. The pain that existed by knowing how he died, how many times he died, his children's deaths, creatures he killed, it all flooded him and drowned him.\n\nJake was now old, suffering from dementia. All old people diseases, he concluded, were just variations of memory assimilation. So he knew how he died. Every single time. Every death that life endured, he remembered when the time was right.\n\nHis dementia was worsening, pulling memories he hated at the mention of a single word. \"Grandpa, time to take your pills\" turned into overdosing on ecstasy, the freaky colors swirling round and around while reminding him of how he technically killed himself each time he offered someone else drugs.\n\n\"A skydiving accident?\" Another voice said.\n\n\"Why, of course. When you tried to fuck yourself up so that you forget you ever died works, it leaves you fucked up in the next life.\" Jake said simply. He turned around to look at the owner, at the other Jake. He remembered who died when and how. This Jake was a newer one. But barely older, with a cane and sunglasses.\n\n\"I can't see, but I remember everything in its own way. I don't think you'd understand, since you at least can see.\" The blind Jake's drawl gave more credence to his paralyzed left half of his face. \n\n\"Bah. Being a veteran isn't all sugar and rainbows, lemme tell ya. Veteran benefits for being the Greatest generation are utter shit. I had these cataracts for five months. Five goddamn months.\" He spat carelessly on the carpeted floor.\n\n\"Ah shit, I think one of us built this place.\" The blind Jake prowled slowly with his cane, tittering the cane briefly before stopping.\n\n\"We all built everything. Everything on Earth is and was built by me. I'm all of life, but why do you not like skydiving accidents? Gonna go out like that. Pretend like my parachute failed, then say in my will I meant to die. I don't give a shit how they feel.\" He spat again.\n\n\"Well, ya know, it ain't that hard to point out that every single one of us is different. We are only limited by our understanding of the world we were all raised in. So we prefer different things. And we only know each other's memories when we get old. I guess the bodies we were able to spark into can only handle so many years of use before our memories fuck us over and let us choose how we want to die based on what we lived through.\" The blind Jake tittered his cane until he found a wall to lean on.\n\n\"I suppose so. I mean, this will stay hidden when we die and then comes back whe we get old the next time around. Whatever fucking joke of a god granted me immortality simply didn't get what mental mindfucking is. Which way is your favorite to go out by? To die?\" Older Jake sat Ina chair, massaging his aching thighs.\n\n\"Does it matter? We die anyways and move on. The day the memories are too much to handle upon the first second of life in an incarnation is when life will stop advancing. Then we die permanently.\" The blind Jake took off his glasses, carefully holding the frame so as to not smudge the glass.\n\n\"Well I like skydiving.\"\n\n\"To each their own, I suppose. I am not sure what death is the best. I say a good death is more important than having lived a good life. A good death makes you think of how you didn't choose to live, only that you chose differently. I may not see anything, but I can hear and feel and touch and smell my death. I distinctly remember writing this at some point.\n\nThen out spake brave Horatius,\n\nThe Captain of the Gate:\n\n\"To every man upon this earth\n\nDeath cometh soon or late.\n\nAnd how can man die better\n\nThan facing fearful odds,\n\nFor the ashes of his fathers,\n\nAnd the temples of his Gods.\n\n\"At this point, from what I've seen so far, it's how a man can die better. How can we all die better than the last? The cycle of dying better than the last, as a convoluted one-up, will never end. It will have gone from being devoured by a lion to being separated into quarks and then reassembled the wrong way around in a teleporting time machine. No kind of cycle we can come up with will ever end in an okay manner. No cycle will ever end in a satisfying death, nor will life. Life will get better or worse, as will death. But the nonsensical cycle of life will only get better or worse so long as life is ensured to continue existing no matter how fucked up it gets.\n\n\"The cycle will never end. Nothing ever ends. The universe will never end. I've come to the realization that we are all going to keep moving on with bodies. The memories of death will only touch us if we are capable of sensing them. And when we run out of bodes to inhabit, we will move on to inhabiting baryonic matter.\"\n\n\"Heh, at least we will keep on living.\" The older Jake remarked.\n\n\"Oh, but living won't net us much but for memories of what we were. Entropy, the decay of life, only happens when we inhabit a vessel. Have you noticed how everything dies? We die. Stars die. Even atoms, though they live a lot longer than the age of the universe. And since everything we know dies, and everything we inhabit dies, the cycle will never end. We will be protons, electrons, neutrons, photons, all matter, all particles all at once and yet never. We won't remember anything.\"\n\n\"Then if we don't remember anything, wouldn't the void between lives be the point where we are probably matter?\"\n\n\"Very much so. The universe will continue. When we pass through all conceivable notions of life, death, and living and dying, we will restart the universe. Then the cycle will continue again in an explosion that won't let our memories reform, thereby breaking the death memory cycle. And we can go on.\"\nThe blind Jake simply stared, tracing his finger along a cut groove on his cane, paying no heed if the older Jake was even there anymore.\n\n\"Just so you know, the answer to your question is that I happen to have liked death by ruptured colon from some... Kinky fetishes, to say the least. At least this time around, I plan to go out like that. If I can't see what is going on, I might as well feel it instead.\"\n\n\n", "\"You know, I've always been more of a dagger person.\" said Angelica to her friend Alex. They were taking a relaxing walk in Central Park when the topic of their conversation switched from their immortality to their favorite type of death.\n\n\"Ahhh you're a total sucker for the Middle Ages.\"\n\n\"Well, not Middle Ages specifically... I've just enjoyed using them - and when one is used on me... I guess I'd say that's my favorite way to 'kick the bucket'.\" \n\nThe duo walked onwards, soon coming across a bench and sitting down.\n\nAlex turned towards Angelica and smiled. \"I've always preferred guns. I mean, it's quick and easy. Doesn't hurt as much as falling.\" \n\n\"You would. Getting into duels every century.\" \n\n\"Hey, that was one year!\" said Alex, getting defensive of his rash behavior.\n\n\"Yeah, yeah. And I know you needed to do it so that you could disappear again. Why do you keep getting famous? You know you need to lay low.\"\n\n\"I know, I know. I just like the spotlight I guess. Plus - being famous isn't that bad. I've done so much for this country, kids learn about me in their history classes!\"\n\n\"Eh ok. That does sound pretty fun. Recognition.\" Angelica sighed. \"What about that time that you conquered all of Persia, died of alcohol poisoning, and to this day are called 'the great' by historians?\" \n\nAlex smiled a sly smile. \"I can tell you a bit more about that if you like. It was before we met anyways...\" \n\nSitting on that bench in Central Park, Alex and Angelica shared many more stories of days gone by, confusing any stranger that happened to get bits and pieces of their conversation. " ]	6
	[WP] Born without one of your senses, upon your death, you are given the opportunity to experience any one day again but this time with all your senses. How does it go?	[ "I mean....I could touch her...like a blind man can stare at someone...but it's not actually seeing.\r\r\rI opened my eyes, mind a bit numbed by the fading dreams. She laid next to me, pressed against my body. \rHer heat wasn't unpleasant, even if it was warm under the blanket.\r\rWait....her heat? And talking about feeling numb....I could feel her.....really feel her...and it all came back to me: The car accident, the hospital, the \"bad news\".....the end, but also the entity and the opportunity it gave me.\r\rOr was that a dream? No...it couldn't have been. I could actually feel her.\r\rI touched her skin. It was so smooth as it looked. I wasn't really sure what smooth skin felt like. I had no reference, but I was pretty sure that this was as good as it could get. \r\rI brushed through her hair...I always wanted to that...and I technically did, but this time was the first time I really did it. The texture of hair was interesting. Every hair was so fragile, but all of it together felt so different....she was always proud of her long hair. \r\rShe mumbled something and for a moment I thought I had woken her up, but she just pressed herself more firmly against me.\rThere was it again....this heat.\r\rIf there is a feeling that best describes life it would be exactly that heat.\rIt radiated from her body and entered my own.\r\rCarefully I took her hand into mine and slowly and entangled our fingers. I understand now why couples do it all the time. It's the best thing ever. Like your hand feels finally complete, even if you didn't that there was something missing.\r\rI cried and felt the tears running down my face. I cried because of the beauty and I cried because I would loose them again...\r\"One day? I only need one hour...with her\"\r I curse myself for my dumbness. Or was it my romantic side? Either way my time was almost up....\rMy eyes slowly closed....as my mind driftet back to sleep I brushed her skin one last time.\r\rBeep Beeep Beep* I punished my alarm clock with a look that could kill and quickly silenced it, before it could wake her up. Just five more minutes. What a weird dream that was...dying....and then getting revived for one hour? I remembered all the feelings and wondered if that would be even close to what it actually would feel like. I could picture the feeling of the heat in my mind....and suddenly I realized that the feeling was still there.", "\"Born without one of my senses? That's nonsense, I had all of them. Sight, Sound, Smell, Touch, Taste.. all of them! I mean.. I know I was colour-blind, but that's hardly an entire sense\" The angel failed to stifle a laugh, as his eyes flickered away to avoid making contact with mine \"If you say so.\"\n\nI had as long as I wanted to choose a day, but I couldn't forget the look in his eyes when he said \"If you say so.\" so I chose the day I found out I was colour-blind.\" As soon as I said it, I was there, at the front of a queue waiting to visit the school nurse. I barely remembered the day, it was so insignificant, but the smells and sounds of the school brought it all back in an instance.\n\n\"NEXT\"\n\nWalking into the stuffy office, I was greeted by the school nurse (I never knew her name) and an older woman with a clipboard. \"This is a simple test of your senses, please read the letters from the board.\" I don't remember ever seeing her before or after, but she did all the talking, the school nurse just nodded reassuringly. \n\nI followed along, reading letters from a board, pressing a button in response to beeps, all standard stuff I'm sure we had done before. Then came the ishihara test. \"Now, look at this picture, and tell me the number that you see.\" She showed me a standard dot-test, it had the number forty-three on it. \"Forty Three.\" She made a note on her clip-board, \"Yes, and this one.\" \n\nSomething must have been wrong, the next picture in the book was just randomly coloured dots, exactly as I remember seeing it before. \n\n\"SEVENTY EIGHT\"\n\nI hadn't said that. It wasn't my voice, it was hers. But it was inside my head, as if I'd remembered her saying it. My mind must have been playing tricks on me, maybe I was remembering what the answer should be from last time.\n\nThe tester impatiently tapped the clipboard on the edge of the desk, \"Anything?\" I cleared my throat, \"Seventy Eight?\" \n\nShe ticked the clipboard, and put it back down. \"Excellent, all six of your senses appear to be in perfect working order, thank you for you time. NEXT!\"\n\n\n", "As I lay upon my final moments I felt ice creep into my veins. I never heard it coming. I'd never heard anything at all. But the Grim Reaper brought a surge of life to my unborn ears in death, the birth of a soundtrack for a day. The sounds of blankets against my skin were loud and mesmerizing. Intensity accompanied all of the vibrations within my vicinity and I shivered. The recital was today, my brother's time to shine in front of his peers and spectators alike. I remember my mom's hands signing the air with such importance, repeatedly, to let me know how proud she was but today she just said it and I could understand by her tone of voice; there were no hands. Then the time shifted through the everyday rhythms, all captivating in their simple expectancy, until I was facing the curtained stage. When the audience went silent I felt an uneasy familiarity and held my breath to hear my own heartbeat until the performance began. The melody flowed seamlessly into me and I experienced music in its entirety. It was beautiful. My brother's contribution to such a personal sensation was inspiring, a heart within a symphony. As the lights came on and the curtain began to close I sank deep into my seat, rhythms rushing around my head. I closed my eyes and it all began to muffle, but my foot tapped into eternity, a deafening back beat finale." ]	3
	[WP] You legitimately win the lottery 3 times, year after year. The government comes to your house in the middle of the night and takes you to area 51. They suspect you of time travel and want to study you.	[ "\"So let me get this straight. You and the agencies you work for think I have either the power to travel though time or some equipment that allows me to do so?\" The man in the dark sunglasses looked at me with no emotion visible and simply said \"Yes.\"\n\"Okay, so you kidnapped and interrogated someone who either has a machine, a friend who has or they them self have the power to warp the fabric of space time in a way that violates all know laws of physics?\" The man in the sunglasses face betrayed the barest hint of unease as he answered again with a simple \"Yes.\" \n\"One last thing and while kidnapping this person(who you believe has god like powers) hold them for over a week while not being charged with any crime, deny them legal counsel and in the process royally pissing them off. You and the gover,net you work for decided this was a good idea?\" While the man with the dark sunglasses still betrayed almost nothing about his emotions visibly, I could still tell my words had shaken him. When he failed to come up with something to say I knew my course of action. \"Since you are illegally detaining me I guess I will have to resort to rather illegal methods to escape. I am terribly sorry about this... Actually no I'm really not.\" And with a thought were a man once sat was an empty chair and the soft rattle as his sunglasses hit the table. \"Humans you will never learn\" I say to the empty room as I fade from reality.edit missed a quasi on mark. " ]	1
	[WP] You have a dream where you hear a voice tell you, "don't answer the door!" You are awoken to the sound of the doorbell ringing.	[ "I shake awake violently. My dreams have become so real lately, they hardly feel like dreams anymore. The sound of that scream still echoes around in my head: \"Don't answer the door!\" The words seem to wrap around my brain in the haze that follows a morphine-induced sleep. It's hardly sleep at all, but that's the only one I can have anymore.\n\nMy throat is raw with thirst. I reach for the glass of water that I left near the bed last night but I can't find it. As I reach for the light switch I hear the doorbell ring again.\n\nAgain?\n\nIt must have been the doorbell that woke me up, not the dream; or maybe they both woke me up. I try to clear my head as I reach for the light switch. My hands don't feel real even as I flick it up.\n\nThe first thing to appear out of place is the picture on the wall. Or rather, the picture that should be on the wall, but it is not: there are glass shards all over the floor, and the frame rests, violently shattered in three large pieces, on the desk at the centre of the room, which is laying on the floor, upside down: also, curiously, not its right orientation.\n\nI turn to my left to see a large dark stain on the wall, where, I realize looking at the glass shards that cover the whole floor, the glass of water I held near the bed was thrown (by me?) with incredible force.\n\nThat's when I notice the blood.\n\nI can't fully grasp the amount of blood that is staining the walls until I turn my head all around the room: there's blood everywhere, smeared on the walls as if someone had started scraping the wall with their hands full of blood. The sight is horrifying. The stench, I realize, is nauseating. On the wall to my right, the blood seems to be more abundant. I squint my eyes when I realize there is something written on the wall. In crimson letters, the wall speaks to me: \"HELP ME\".\n\nI hear the doorbell again. It must have rung many times while I was too dazed taking in the sight of this chaos to hear it. The sound is distant, almost inaudible. I shake away the bedsheets and try to move. My body feels heavy, or rather it doesn't \"feel\" at all. I can't feel anything. Not my hands, not my feet, not any part of my skin. I try looking at my hands and the sight almost makes me scream in terror: both arms are heavily bandaged from the elbow to the wrist, and the bandages are blood-soaked.\n\nI put a foot on the floor: I feel just a slight tickle while the glass shards break the skin under my foot and penetrate it like an army of very small ipodermic needles. Or tiny butcher knives. I put the other foot on the floor and slowly stand up: nothing, no pain, no burning sensation as the glass cuts deep into my skin. I start walking towards the corridor at the end of the room.\n\nThe doorbell rings again. This time the sound is so faint I could have been just imagining it.\n\nThe corridor is barely lit, but I can see where the door is. I start extending my hand towards the doorknob when I suddenly remember my dream. The scream is so vivid in my mind that I turn around furiously, expecting to see another person screaming behind me. There is nothing. From this angle I can see that the bed sheets are soaked with blood as the bandages on my arm are. I didn't even know a single man could have this much blood inside him.\n\nI turn to face the door again. It seems like I can hear voices coming from behind it. I extend my hand again, and again I stop and release it halfway, letting my arm fall limp against my side. I try a third time, and this time my hand reaches the doorknob and grips it. The voices are definitively stronger. Trying not to think of my dream, I turn the doorknob and push the door open.\n\nIn a hospital somewhere, a high-pitched sound fills the hallways as nurses and doctors rush to a room at the end of a corridor.\n\nEpilogue: The body seemed to be crudely placed on top of the bed, more than lying on it. It was incredibly thin and its skin was tinted with various slight tints of grey: four years in a coma are more than capable of doing that to a person. While the nurses worked around him, slowly removing needles and sensors from its arms, a careful observer could have noticed that, while the body was enveloped in the soft and calm guise of death, its face showed a faint, almost invisible vein of pure terror." ]	1
	[WP] You are a veteran urban explorer. You've scoured abandoned amusement parks, old insane asylums, and even decaying government facilities. One day, however, you stumble across a structure that was never meant to be found.	[ "“Now, to clarify, is this going to be a real missile silo, or is this going to be a big hole in the ground like last time?”\n\nRichard shrugged off the jab and kept his eyes on the road. “It’s a real one, and you know damn well last time was a complete fluke.”\n\nDan nodded. “Complete fluke, couldn’t imagine it happening any other time. Certainly not at a leveled greyhound race track in Durango in 2009.”\n\n“Hey—hey jackass? I know, but trust me on this one, I got a good tip.”\n\n“And who did you have to give a good tip for this good tip?” Dan rolled the dial on the dashboard, scanning for any radio stations that reached the Eastern Plains. He paused on a number with an acoustic guitar strumming out the chords of “Holy in the Highest” before muting the radio again.\n\n“It’s not much further,” Richard assured him. “And that,” he pointed at a green sign that read simply Antelope Creek Next Right, “Is our final destination. Nav me in.” He reached into the middle console of the old Subaru and produced a tattered guide to the ghost towns on the plains.\n\nDan snorted. “Couldn’t Mapquest it?”\n\n“Right, because Antelope Creek is so old they still use Mapquest.” He eased the car off the lonely stretch of highway onto the exit and bore left down a road weeds had almost entirely reclaimed.\n\n“It’s right at the fork up here,” Dan said, flashing his pocket light out the window at the abandoned houses. “Why’re we fucking around with a silo when there’s all this Americana to raid?”\n\nRichard took his turn at the fork. “I didn’t think there’d be any buildings still standing, this town was abandoned when the old Minuteman rockets went out of production.”\n\nThe car shook to a stop at the end of the road and the pair took in the sights—or lack thereof. It was an almost moonless night--as they always picked for exploration. The isolation offered a magnificent view of the stars, and apart from some lonesome telephone wires the only presence in the darkness was the rolling hills.\n\nRichard snapped on a painter’s mask and popped the trunk. Together they shouldered modest packs and ambled over the first hill.\n\n“Should be hatches in three locations,” Richard explained. “But my… source said that some excavation had to be done, so we should be able to get in through the dug-out control room.”\n\n“Who would live out here?” Dan asked.\n\nRichard followed his gaze to a tiny light on the furthest hill. He shrugged. “Could be an old rest stop that never got taken off the grid. Or I know they used to have air purification shacks on the surface for these kinds of place but that was way after Minuteman.”\n\nDan furrowed his brow but didn’t object to following his friend down the embankment to the center of the three hills.\n\nFor his part, Richard didn’t stop rattling off facts the whole way. It was his favorite part, to be on the adventure and see the things he had read about up close and personal.\n\n“There should be—yeah, there.” Richard pointed at a tunnel that had been exposed in the excavation. The concrete had been crushed, leaving just enough room between the rebar for a man to squeeze through. \n\n“Rope?” Dan asked, eyeing the fifty foot hills above them with some suspicion, as if they were liable to come crashing down at any time.\n\n“I don’t think so, just wait for my OK.” Richard dropped his pack down and wiggled into the tunnel, landing with an earthy “thud”. “Six feet,” came his echoing voice from the tunnel. “Mind the gap.”\n\nDan followed without incident, clicking on his own headlamp upon landing. He found Richard already examining the posters in the tunnel. Typical fifties propaganda didn’t interest Dan like it did Richard. He had no interest in the people who fell for such stupid slogans as “for the betterment of mankind” and worse “only you can keep your environment clean.”\n\nThey followed the signs down the hallway to a metal door set in the circular wall.\n“Locked,” Dan noted.\n\n“Yeah, from our side,” Richard added, tugging at the rusted blast door’s crossbar. \n\nDan peered uneasily back the way they came. He was no cave explorer, and being underground made him anxious.\n\n“C’mon, puss,” Richard slipped through the door and Dan reluctantly followed.\n\n“Why would there be wind down here?” Dan tried to laugh off the observation but it came out sounding more pathetic than he intended.\n\n“Just means there’s another air source somewhere, happens in caves all the time. We’ll be fine as long as the air is always coming from our direction.” He pointed his lamp down at the scaffolding above, taking in the domed ceiling. “There’ll be a staircase down to the controls. Toss a few glowsticks down there, see what we can see.”\n\nDan dropped his pack with a thud, eliciting a flurry of watery skittering from long undisturbed pests below. He dutifully cracked the first of his sticks and tossed it over the railing where it landed with a splash.\n\nRichard followed the light as it sank in the center of the room. Soon enough the light vanished into the murk and Richard frowned. “I didn’t think of the rainwater this kind of place would collect. Maybe it is just another hole in the ground.”\n\nBut Dan wasn’t listening. Dan was watching the glowstick bob back to the surface of the subterranean lake before them. Keeping one eye on the defiant light, he bent down to crack another.\n\nJust as the first light again vanished under the water, he lobbed his second.\n\nThe lights of their lanterns tracked it through the air to the surface, where a hand was waiting to catch it. \n" ]	1
	[WP] Your damn cat coughs up another hair ball... Except this one talks.	[ "I tilted my head, trying to allow the slim sliver of light from behind the trees to illuminate my keys. I have way too many keys. The jingle of keys continued, until finally I’d selected the right one. A turn of the handle and I was home. I reached to switch the light, worried I’d step on my cat. Though, perhaps ‘my’ wasn’t the right word choice. This neighborhood was oddly bare of cats, unlike any city apartment complex I’d lived in before. Except this cat. Back on a damp Saturday, the perfect day for moving, he found it prudent to let me know he had already taken up residency. He did this by curling around my feet as I walked forward, carrying two poorly balanced boxes. \n\nFast forward, he’s been my roommate ever since. I don’t know why I never kicked him out. Perhaps I liked the company, as rare and sporadic as it was. Cat food was inexpensive and he generally lurked around quietly, leaving me to my business. I typically saw him two times in a 24 hour period. Once to greet me as I came home from work. The second around the break of dawn when I typically found myself stumbling into my bed, having fallen asleep on the couch. He always laid in the window sill, looking out through the frosted glass. I never bothered him at this time. \n\nDon’t get me wrong. There were many other indications I wasn’t alone in the house. The litter box that had to be cleaned. The scattered food on the floor that dug sharp into my feet when least expected. And the hairballs. Those fucking hairballs. I remember the first time I stepped on one in the night. A scream stuck in my throat as I backed against the wall. Even after discovering the source of my fear, it took a while for my heart to stop pounding. Cleaning up hairballs became routine. \n\nWith a twist of the lock, my thoughts fleeted. I made my way through the house, clothing coming off as I sank into comfort. I poured a dash of gin into some coffee mug I’d picked up over the years as I watched the microwave plate spin, heating up my gourmet dinner. I sat down on the couch and pulled the coffee table to hug my knees. With a full stomach and a mindless show, I fell into a deep sleep - like I did every night. But tonight was not like every night. \n\nTime had passed, I don’t know how much. The dawn hadn’t broke. I rose stiffly from the couch, turning the TV off as I made my way to the bathroom. I pushed the door open, not bothering to turn on the light as I began to relieve myself. I heard a soft sound, almost inaudible, before a loud thump struck me from my trance. With a quick shake, I rushed out the door, flipping on the hallway light. My eyes squinted closed out of habit. As I opened them I saw the cat, lifeless on the hallway floor. Next to him was a hair ball. Average size, normal in color. But something was wrong. Something smelled wrong. My nose twitched at the scent. Recognizing it, but not able to identify. \n\nI didn’t expect this. I can’t say I was particularly distraught. Sure, I was taken aback, knowing just a few hours ago the cat was fine. Then snap, it was gone. I put a plastic bag over my hand, and used the makeshift glove to drop the cat into yet another bag. I tossed the cat into the alley bin, leaving the litter box and hairball for now. Exhaustion and a bit of lethargic indifference setting in at this point. Back to sleep I went.\n\nI slept soundly until my daily alarm sounded. I woke and began my morning routine. Drying my hair with a towel I walked toward the kitchen, stopping when I saw the hairball on the ground. Deciding to get it done with it, I grabbed another back, snatching up the hairball and tossing it into the kitchen trash. I slid two pieces of toast in the toaster, faltering when several hoarse cries of Meow echoed through the house. \n\n“What the F- “.\n\nThe noises got louder. Like a growing symphony rising towards its crescendo. More and more cries joining in. One sound, over and over. Different voices. Different tones. I backed into the corner of the kitchen, pressed up against the cheap knobs. \n\nMeow. Meow. Meow. Meow. Meow. \n\nRhythmic scratching set the back drop. My own personal composition. The echoing cry of that fucking cat. The trash bin rattled as my hands gripped the counter edge, growing white. A blur flew from the container and into the air, stopping only inches from my face. I stared into the hair ball, seeing more than I even understood. The moving pieces of a whole. A very galaxy encased in this matted hell. Finally, it spoke. One word. \n\n“Master”.\n\nI didn’t have time to respond as it lunged forward once again, passed my slightly ajar lips. As it pushed further, my jaw stretched, unnecessarily, allowing it room to slide into my mouth without scraping against the teeth. I could feel it slide down throat though. Every single second of that contact. The scratching against that un-weathered skin. Like a thousand fish bones tickling as you lost the ability to breathe. \n\nAgain the word sounded out. “Master”. The voice was my own. \n" ]	1
	[WP] You're a demon working in Hell, when someone asks to see the manager.	[ "\"You'll need to make a sacrifice\" I told her, shrugging my shoulders. \n\n\"What do you mean?\" She asked, partly concerned but mostly offended. \"What do I even have? We're in fucking hell...I don't even have any clothes...\"\n\n\"Ya' got skin... blood...eyeballs... hands... I don't care. Pick something and give it up!\"\n\nShe tapped her foot impatiently. I was sort of hoping she'd sacrifice that awful fucking haircut. \n\nI cleared my throat and pointed down at my wrist where a watch would be if demons had any need to tell time. \n\n\"Well...\" she sighed \"How about my hair?\"\n\n\"PERFECT!\" I said, chuckling to myself. \n\nFear sparkled in her eyes.\n\nI picked up a razor blade, sticky and covered in rust, from the dark stone slab I use in place of a desk. I gently pulled her wrist towards me and placed it in the palm of her hand. \n\n\"Go!\" I said, choking back laughter\n\nShe held the razer blade between her thumb and index finger eyeing it before she looked up again and spoke. \n\n\"So if I make this sacrifice, you'll let me speak to a manager?\" \n\n\"Sure, why not?\" \n\nShe eyed me suspiciously. \n\n\"Do it now before I change my mind\" I told her sternly. \n\nShe grabbed a bit of her hair and began to saw away at it with the dull blade. \n\n\"All of it\" I said, wagging my finger and shaking my head disappointedly. \"Ya' gotta start at the scalp\" \n\nShe shuttered and placed the blade at her hair line and again began sawing at her hair, this time blood began pouring down her scalp. \n\n\"I don't wanna' see any stubble...\" I told her, smiling and winking\"\n\nShe winced in pain as she sawed away the flesh on her scalp. Her face was now covered in hot blood and tears rolled down her cheeks cutting through the dark red.\n\n\"Almost there\" I told her encouragingly, although still in the most condescending tone I could muster. \n\n\"She whimpered and continued peeling\" \n\nI again pointed down at the imaginary watch on my wrist. \"Times running out!\" \n\nShe scrambled and began working faster, her hands shaking and struggling to grip the wet razer blade. Blood bubbled at her lips and she let it roll down her chin. \n\nShe whimpered and cried out as she gripped the last of her hair and scalp and ripping it from her bald blood soaked head. \n\nThen she collapsed on the stone slab, panting and crying. \"Can... I... see...him now?\n\nI chuckled. \"Welcome to Hell. Learn to be a little less gullible\" \n\n\n", "The Hell-Hall has always been a scary, yet magnificent thing to look at. The walls were made from faces of atheists and the floor was made out of human bones. There were two lanes in the hall, one for men and one for women, leading to the demon Agramon to come out with good ideas for sentences. Every few seconds a human would fall from Heaven into the giant Pit-of-Hell. They couldn't die, so no one bothered to build a safe passage. From there, they would be assigned to a lane; leading to the Hell-Hall, to face their sentence.\n\nAbdiel was in his shift, standing by the pit to keep the order and the flow going. He always enjoyed seeing the people fall and scream with pain and agony; it made him feel good.\n\n\"Come on people, you need to free the landing place for other humans!\" He yelled. A group of teenagers yelled at the sky that they weren't supposed to be here. he couldn't stand the cry-babies. Always yelling at God for not accepting them, he thought.\n\nThe teenagers didn't seem to hear him. Abdiel sighed. If only I could harm them. Only Guecubuses could harm humans, based on their sentences. He was about to yell at them again when suddenly he heard a voice behind him.\n\n\"Excuse me!\"\n\nHe turned around, and saw a woman approaching him from the landing place.\n\n\"What th-\"\n\n\"I want to see the manager!\" the woman said aggressively, closing on him.\n\nAbdiel was shocked; in his entire career, he never saw a human approaching a demon. This was so unusual, and he didn't know what to say.\n\n\"I... Uh... Why...-\"\n\n\"I WILL NOT tolerate such handling of sentences! How dare you assign people based on their genders?! What do you think you are doing?\". At this point, she was standing right in front of him, waiting for him to respond.\n\n\"I... don't think you understand where you are... If you could please just-\"\n\n\"I know very well where I am! and I cannot accept such oppression of gender! This is inhuman! I demand to speak with the manager!\" she repeated.\n\nSuddenly, Abdiel Recalled that this year his friends told him about the rise of Tumblr-people; called social-justice-something. I should have prepared myself for the first death of these kind, he thought.\n\n\"Lady, we are doing everything we can to control this area, we need everyone to obey and be silent to keep the place in orde-\"\n\n\"You are trying to escape my question! I want to see the manag-\"\n\nAbdiel was starting to lose his patience. \"Listen to me, *Lady!\" he snapped. She looked at him as though he had slapped her, but he continued: \"I will not call my boss because you don't like how we do things here! you are holding me from keeping the pit open for landing!\" He turned to face the rows of people and yelled \"Amon! I need security here!\"\n\nThe woman was looking at him with shock and disgust, as though she couldn't believe what she heard, but quickly regained herself. \"I am not going anywhere without seeing the manager!\" She said and crossed he arms.\n\nAbdiel lost his patience and reached out to her. \"You need to go and let me do my job, the security is on its wa-\". when he grabbed her arm, she started yelling \"WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?! DON'T TOUCH ME, CREEP\".\n\nshe started to fight against his grab; twitching and moving nonstop. He released her, so she'll stop yelling, and looked at her like she was crazy.\n\n\"LADY!\", he yelled \"you must go with me NOW!\". As he finished his sentence, she slapped him hard on the side of his face. \"Don't you ever* touch me again!\" she said.\n\nHe felt his side of his face getting more painful with every second. That's it, he thought. He grabbed her again, this time locking both her arms so she won't be able to fight. She started screaming and cursing him as he walked with her towards the demons that were running towards them.\n\nAs he approached the security demons, she tried to bite his hand but he pushed her away towards the demons. \"Red privileged DEMON! I hope you DIE!\" She screamed hysterically while they tried to hold her back.\n\n\"Get this thing out of here directly to Lucifer!\" Abdiel said to the demons. \"let him know what she did to me!\". The woman suddenly stopped fighting, and looked at him confused.\n\"You wanted to see my boss, didn't you?\" he said with a low voice, leaning closer towards her. \n\n\"I hope you like having non-consensual sex for eternity\" he whispered to her ear, and saw the expression on her face change from surprised to terrified.\n\nShe started apologizing quickly when the demons started dragging her through the hallway, and when she realized that it did nothing, started to fight them back and scream for help. All this time, Abdiel looked at her from his position, thinking about the future kind of humans that he will face.\n\nSorry for my English/grammar.\nEDIT: Formatting" ]	2
	[WP] You get a message from God. He screwed up big time and needs your help to fix it.	[ "\"Dude why would you need my help. I'm just your average Jewish teenager.\" \n\nA man stood in front of me. He had summoned himself into my dream and took me to clouds. He had a long, white beard and told me that he was in need of my assistance.\n\n\"I am God. Mankind has disobeyed me and is straying away further from me,\" He said.\n\nI was slightly concerned about his carelessness. He claimed to be God, something people today would be crucified for saying. \n\nI couldn't speak. My mouth was open, but no sounds were coming out of it. The audacity of this man was too great.\n\n\"Speak my child,\" he said.\n\n\"Impersonating the lord is a crime,\" I said. \"If you are truly the Lord, prove it.\" \n\nThe man looked at me and seemed to ponder something.\n\n\"Yes, I shall.\" He said. \"I will show a vision of the future.\"\n\nHe waved his hands and my vision changed. I saw the future and the changes that occurred. It felt like a dream. Foggy and unclear. There were horseless carriages and thin bricks that glowed. The people were similar to us, but for some reason wore a \"t\" around their neck .\n\n\"Please. You must help mankind. Die, so that all of mankind's sins will be forgiven.\"\n\n\"Whoa there, slow down a bit,\" I said. \"I have to die?\"\n\nHe smiled. \"You will be up here in heaven with me, as my son. You will be known their lord and savior. People will worship you and you will have wars fought purely because you.\"\n\nHe walked in front of me, looking at me. He held up his hand.\n\n\"Jesus, be my son and bring mankind to salvation.\"\n" ]	1
	[WP] "Funny how those who go looking for demons never fail to find them." A cause without a boogeyman to use as a scare tactic ends up making one, intentionally or not.	[ "The most successful campaigns - the ones that raise the most money, bring about the most change - are powered by fear. No one donates to cancer charities because of inspirational stories; they do it because they're scared. They hear about the woman who died, at twenty-four, a week after complaining of a strange pain in her shoulder. They hear about the man who had to have three of his limbs amputated, the one who'll be hooked up to machines forever. \n\nThat's what makes them give, makes them care. The fear. They think about awful things happening to other people, and then open their wallets to stop it happening to them. That's why there's so much funding for the charities stopping bad things, compared to those starting good things. If you want to build a well in Africa, you've got to find rich kids who want an \"experience\". If you want to raise money for STD clinics, you just run ads with pictures of the sores. \n\nIt's not just charities. It works for PSAs, political campaigns, relationships. Fear is the strongest motivator. Whether its fear of high-speed carnage, immigration, or dying alone, fear makes people do things. If you want to influence, to control, you need to make people fear. \n\nSo, when it came time to design our campaign, that's what we did. We found people's fear, and we leveraged it. It wasn't easy - ours isn't a problem that lends itself naturally to fear - but we did it. \n\nHow do you increase sales of bottled water by over 65%? Telling people how great it is doesn't work. Competitions and promotions work a little. But fear works every time. \n\nWe ran ads nationwide, at primetime. Thirty seconds long - it didn't need to be more. The ads didn't mention our product; that would be clumsy, the sort of thing that makes customers decide not to buy out of spite. Instead, the ads just talked about water.\n\nDid you know that harmful super-bacteria can breed in copper piping? Three hundred million people suddenly did. They saw the \"dramatisation\" (labelled as such in very small letters). They felt the fear. \n\nThe first ad was a young woman in the shower. Sex works almost as well as fear, so there's no harm throwing it in there. It gets people's attention. The first ten seconds are just titillation - careful, suggestive shots that imply a lot of soapy and scrubbing of firm, young flesh. That's when the water starts changing. \n\nThe second ad was a toddler playing in a bathtub. Cute kids make women (14-75) play close attention. He starts off sitting there, playing with a duck, and then it happens.\n\nThe third and final ad was a dog. Some people don't like naked models, and don't find children cute. Almost everyone loves puppies; market research doesn't lie. It's playing happily, running back and forth, tongue hanging out. Dog stuff. But eventually, it wants a drink, heads to its water bowl.\n\nWe spent over three million - each ad - on the final ten seconds. Legions of SFX artists and digital designers worked for months creating our monster. Our source of fear.\n\nIt's black, and moves like sludge. Around the edges, if you watch carefully, you can see that sometimes it doesn't flow normally, but defies gravity, takes paths of greater resistance. It's a subtle effect, only noticeable if you're looking for it, but it all builds up. Subliminally, you find it unsettling. \n\nInside the liquid, things are moving. For microseconds only, the suggestion of a screaming face will appear, a swirl will look like a claw. The sludge spreads, flows outwards, taints the purity around it. We spent a fortune trying to make the most disgusting, repellent thing we could. \n\nThe final few seconds of every ad are identical. The sludge spreads out, filling the scream. Frantic barks, crying, high-pitched screaming are all slowly dialled down, as though they've been smothered. Then, white on the black screen, the message: \"Do you know what's in your tap water?\"\n\nIt worked. I mean, it really worked. One of the most successful ad campaigns in history. Some people were terrified, others just unsettled, but both of those amounted to the same thing: people were just that bit more likely to buy bottled, certified pure spring water. Sales went through the roof.\n\nWe should have been happy. We were, in fact. Champagne flowed like water, not the sludgy kind, and we all got promotions. It was dishonest money, sure, preying on peoples' fears with a manufactured monster, but what marketing executive hasn't crossed a few lines?\n\nWe were happy. For a while. \n\nNow, I don't want to give you the wrong idea here. We didn't believe in our monster. There was no monster - we knew that better than anyone. There was no thick reeking sludge flowing through your pipes, no mindless, predatory mud that would slide over your skin. No one would actually find themselves coated in soft, loathesome warmth, or feel their lungs start to burn as it forced its way into your mouth, cutting off the airway. No one would feel themselves dissolve as the mud filled and coated every inch of skin, delving into every orifice. That wasn't real. \n\nBut I began to have trouble sleeping. The others did do - you could look around the boardroom and see only red-rimmed eyes with bags under them, normally polished execs slumped forward nursing coffee cups. \n\nAlways the same dream. The same nightmare that left me bolt upright, gasping for air. Every night, when I forced myself to close my eyes, I was there - hip deep in water, watching the sludge slowly spread out, befouling everything. Unable to move, to run, even to scream, I just stood there, paralysed with fear. Then the mud would reach me, begin to press close to me, a stinking liquid that clung, wrapped tight around me, pulling me down into the murk. \n\nIt was hideously, horrifyingly real. Every detail was etched on my brain, replaying whenever I closed my eyes. Unlike other dreams, this one never faded, never drifted away as I woke. \n\nI'm not a superstitious man. I can break mirrors, pet black cats, anything you like. But I don't drink tap water anymore. I know that most of the board doesn't either. It seems safer. \n\nI buy bottled water, crates of the stuff. It's how I bath and how I shower. I've turned off my house's water supply at the mains. \n\nI know it's stupid. I know it's paranoid, and delusional, and ridiculous. I know all of that. But I also know what will happen if I turn on a tap. I know that the clear water will darken, thicken. That the black sludge will ooze out of it, moving like vile treacle. I know that it will grow and spread and ooze towards me. I see it every night in my dreams.\n\nIt's not real. We made it up. There's no black sludge. Every rational part of me knows that. But the rest of me is equally convinced that it is there, inside the pipes, waiting to flow at the first twist of a tap. Do you know what's in your tap water? I'm terrified that I do." ]	1
This is my first post here, so sorry in advance if I've broken a rule (as I always seem to do). Besides that, just have fun with the prompt. :)	[WP] You are a veteran of the top secret Battle of Mars, the decisive battle of the classified Martian conflict that pushed back the aliens for good, but left you as the only survivor. Now, back on Earth, you must readjust to your old life while dealing with the PTSD that developed after the battle.	[ "I never really know when my PTSD will kick in however I have no control over it. My names Garry and I'm a retired general for the U.S army initiative \"The Immediate march, to alien Mars\" otherwise known as TIMTAM. I was working quietly in my office designing a new training regime for training Navy Seals.\n\nMy boss enters the office with a flustered look on his face. \n\n\"Garry stop what ever your doing and look at these!\"\n\nAs I crawl through the 100 page document only skim reading I see the words \"Martian planet\" a lot. Apparently aliens had been spotted on Mars and the U.S wanted to show them a bit of freedom. \n\n\"Garry, Area 51 has ordered you off any current projects and wants you to be the CO for this mission.\"\n\nThis was a great opportunity to show the army what I was capable of. Instead of writing a regime for the Seals I'm now in charge of a interplanetary invasion of Mars. Sick I thought at the time, I was only 32 and in peak physical condition.\n\nThe army had no knowledge of what we were facing and all we had was the Hubble telescope for intel. They had many forward operating bases on the dark side of Mars which we could only observe at certain points of the day. Many spacecraft would orbit the planet and some would stray as far as the moon before pulling back at light speed. \n\nIt took me two weeks to design the framework of the operation and it was the greatest report I had ever done. The army equipped all my officers and their platoons, gave them a brief of the operation and training was underway. It took us 3 months to launch our invasion.\n\nAs we took off my palms were sweaty, knees weak, arms heavy from all the armour. Leaving my family was the hardest thing as always when being deployed. Except this was different, different planet. We left our atmosphere and started our warp drive to Mars which planted us right on their door step.\n\nAs I look out a beam shoots past my ship and takes out 3 of our military carriers. In an instant 100 soldiers gone. I order the quickest decent we have and to ready the drop pods. My ship is the first to deploy, I'm alone in my pod racing to what could be instant death. \n\nIt took us 3 weeks to clear the planet, the sights I saw were horrific. We exterminated what looked like mothers, children whole villages, all upon orders we had received. I had popped outside our camp to urinate when a mothership hovered over Mars, shot our base and beamed me into their ship.\n\nSomehow they knew I was the CO and took me hostage while they began their bombardment of Mars, killing all my friends, every single soldier and wiping out our base. They had close up views of each solider I had known personally as I watched them die.\n\nI was the sole survivor.\n\nI was rescued from Mars days later however I didn't really remember much. A therapist believes I developed a alternate personality to hide the horrors I faced. \n\nBack on earth the sound of my toast popping up in the morning still brings flashbacks of my friends being slaughtered in front of my eyes. A cup hitting my granite bench top sounds like a bullet straying past my skull as it hits a Martian child in front of me.\n\nI can't even walk down the street without a sound setting it off, a dog barking, someone even saying hello to me makes me cringe like a small girl and want to curl up. I don't remember much from the assault and I don't have any friends left. \n\nOne thing that will haunt me forever were the words of the alien leader when they had me prisoner.\n\nYou speak of freedom but yet you kill my family, you speak of democracy however your controlled by your government. We will have vengeance, see you soon." ]	1
First prompt, don't be kind.	[WP] You write for a newspaper which exclusively prints excessively ambiguous stories but doesn't seem to realise it. Your most recent article just made front page, post it here.	[ "Things seem to be coming to a head in the case of Ernest Hills as authorities say their investigation has entered it's final stages.\n\nErnest Hills, known to most as \"Ernie\", is a man who needs no introduction. Over the past several years, he has been a member of this community, participating in his unique way. All that stopped, of course, five months ago.\n\nSince the event that forever changed the course of Elephant Shore's history, the people have been on edge, desperate to see if their idea, their hypothesis on what actually happened turns out to be correct. There have been multiple reports of under-the-table betting rings offering odds on the outcome. As of now, 'Blue' is the bookies favorite.\n\nThere are those however who view the attention this investigation is drawing as an offense to the others involved.\n\n\"Just because he's important, doesn't mean he's worth more than my son!\", said Ms. Nora Romero at a candle light vigil recently. She went on to further question the police's motivations in this case, given Mr. Hills past associations with the police department.\n\nThe Mayor's Office has been under sever scrutiny given the delicate nature of the papers found during the investigation. Allegations of nepotism and treachery have been levied against the Office, and the lack of a response has led many to support their veracity.\n\nWhatever the final report is, it is bound to divide this once quiet, idyllic town. This drawn-out investigation is a constant sore, one that needs to be lanced soon. Only then can the healing process begin.\n\n*****\n\nIf you'd like to read more by me, come visit /r/browsy_ !" ]	1
I imagined a totally normal person who, upon waking, has no recollection of their former life, but don't let that restrict you. It doesn't have to be the U.S. President either, it could be the prime minister of the UK or the Supreme Dictator of Earth or whatever else tickles your fancy.	[WP] You are awoken by a member of your presidential staff in the middle of the night, only you weren't the president when you went to sleep.	[ "The sound of a siren echoes through the building, jolting me from my peaceful slumber. \"Mr. President!\" I hear coming from outside the room. Am I still dreaming? The man begins beating on my bedroom door repeating the words. \n\nAs I begin to regain consciousness I notice that I am not in my bedroom, where I had fallen asleep a few hours prior. Beginning to look around the room, panic sweeps through my bones. \"Where the hell am I?\" I murmer to myself. The knocking continues. When I answer the door, a young man wearing a bland looking button down and slacks enters excitedly.\n\n\"The Russians have invaded the east coast, just south of the Florida/Georgia border. We are awaiting orders.\" I look at the man in a state of confusion. Why does he think I am the president? Am I still dreaming? After what seems like an eternity the man asks, \"Are you okay Mr. President?\"\n\nA moment later I hear the screeching of the bombers over head, the destruction imminent. Everything goes to black...\n\n\n", "Rough hands jolted Gary awake, pulling him from the pleasant fug of sleep\n\n\n“Mr President, you’re needed; the situation in Syria has escalated”. \n\n\n“Syria?” gurgled Gary as he opened his eyes, blinking in the room. Instead of the futon he remembered, he was in a luxurious king sized bed. Instead of the wadded jumper for a pillow, he had three head-swallowing memory foam monsters. And instead of the gentle sounds of the sea outside his shack’s door, he had the urgent demands of four secret service agents.\n\n\n“Quickly sir, come with us” said the nearest, and gently but firmly pulled Gary from his bed. Another person in the room wearing a more civilian shirt and tie handed Gary a pair of trousers and a shirt, and Gary clumsily pulled them on as he was inexorably manoeuvred to the door. \n\n\nGary’s mind was a blur – president? Was this a dream? It must be – he had met the guy at a rally yesterday, even shook his hand over the metal barriers. President Anderson had smiled that winning smile at him and said “thanks for coming out” in his all-American way. It had taken Gary hours to get there from the coast and hours to get back; this must be some kind of exhaustion fever.\n\n\n Even in this state, Gary remembered how firm the handshake had been…it had actually hurt his hand, the president had squeezed so hard. Stumbling down a corridor now, flanked by Secret Service and half a dozen other important sound people, Gary dumbly looked at his hand trying to marshal his thoughts, remembering the shake. The president had smiled, but his eyes….they had the look of something else in them, something deeply worried…his grasp was not one of a man comfortable and confident, it was a man on the edge….\n\n\nThe collective he was now a part of reached a secure vault door which opened. Inside, around a long table sat several important- and worried-looking army personnel. “Situation room” thought Gary, “I’ve seen this on the TV”…he shook his head again to clear his head….his hand was hurting….he has squeezed so hard…\n\n\nOne of the men stood. “Mr President, my apologies for waking you but we have no other choice. The Syrians have reneged on their deal with us, and our personnel within their borders are now compromised. Echelon chatter reports the arming of several devices within their borders which match the signatures of several long range weapons. It seems we were wrong about their relationship with North Korea; their skirmish in the Japan sea was simply disguise for cementing their collaboration. What would you like us to do?”\nGary looked round the room, his mouth open, his eyes staring…\n\nMiles away, a man woke up in a pleasantly warm shack near the beach. He looked momentarily confused about where he was, then something like realisation dawned on his face and he smiled. He carefully stood up, and took a few steps forward. He could hear the sea outside, and could smell fresh coffee from the nearby vending van. Frowning, he was aware of a pain in his hand, and looked down at it – a dark red patch stretch across his palm from his thumb to his little finger. Then he remembered; Kim-Sung has said some irritation would result from the transfer, that they will still ironing out the kinks of that problem. He would not have believed the treaty talks would have resulted in this, but once they showed him their lab, the only thing he wanted to know was “how can I get out of this?”\n\n\nThe man walked out of the door, and towards the delicious coffee smell. A few people were starting to arrive the beach to catch the early morning surf. One called out and waved to him “hey Gary! Are you surfing later?”. But he didn’t reply; that wasn’t his name….not anymore…\n", "I was startled awake by a loud scream, no, not just a scream, but what seemed like a symphony of screams. I groggily rolled over and looked at the clock, 11:17. Whether it was a.m. or p.m. I hadn't the slightest clue, though as I turned back to ask my wife, there was an cold empty space where she usually sleeps. This is when the panic began to set in.\n\nI ran to the window and threw open the curtains. Darkness. A flash caught my eye off to the left of the street as a car sped away. I was just starting to get my senses back when I heard a few voices coming from downstairs. Whatever was happening was about to get a bit more interesting.\n\nI reached in my nightstand to grab something to protect myself, there were a few spare batteries, a can of air freshener, and what felt like a pen. Even if I had found something of use, my time was up, the door flew open, and the light from the hall temporarily blinded me.\n\n\"Get up! Come with us right now!\"\n\nWho were these people and why was I being ordered to join them? I managed to string a few semi-coherent words as a reply\n\n\"Uh-wha-who are you, why are you here?\"\n\nTheir reply opened my eyes as to exactly what happened in these past few minutes, and what would come these next 4 years\n\n\"You have to come downstairs! The election results are in, you won! Congratulations... Mr. President\"", "I thought I was prepared, that I'd seen it all, but I suppose it was only matter of time before it really escalated.\n\nI was twenty-eight when it happened. I'd crashed motorcycles before, but never goin this fast-\n\nI woke up in an unfamiliar bed, it was too cold and the sheets felt wrong, and my lower abdomen hurt. I went to sit up and my head somehow caught on something, hair?!* Long blonde hair, I sat up with a jolt. I was naked; I had breasts?! I didn't feel my penis between my legs, but something foreign, artificial, held in place by the underwear. I heard a door shut, sounded like a front door, I got out of bed with a start and immediately tripped and fell over, my muscle-memory was all wrong! I grabbed the edge of the bed and carefully got on my knees and up, and I hobbled to the bathroom. I didnt recognize the face staring back at me; a petite woman in her panties with long blonde hair looked at me studying everything about me, except she wasn't studying me, rather I was studying her!. I nearly collapsed and sat on the toilet seat, I had to think. The discomfort in my abdomen wafted through again, down at the underwear line, I pulled the underwear forward to find a maxipad. So that's what the pain was. I was really in another person's body, a 28 year old man seemingly in the body of a woman in her late thirties.\n\nAfter I practiced walking and moving around and tried to take care of some necessaries to the best of my wholly ignorant ability I found some of her casual clothes and started carefully exploring the bedroom. Also found male clothing, started trying to put that on before I realized. I appeared to be in an urban city, in an apartment a few floors up. The cars were familiar but the streets and buildings seen from her window, I guess my window now, were not. I exercised extreme caution as I left the bedroom to look at the rest of the apartment, I was terrified of what would happen if anyone discovered me. Only later did even occur to me that this was her apartment so she has every right to be there. Found her purse and pocketbook, her name is Suzanne, she's 37. Organ donor I thought with a bit of dark humor. We're in Boston if her ID is accurate. Pictures on shelf show her with a man, back to the bedroom I found a wedding set in the top drawer of the small jewelry box. Presumably married. Didn't see kids in the picture.\n\nI had calmed down during the search but panic started to well-up, I had no idea what was going to happen when the husband came home. Her phone, a tablet, the computer all were password-protected, and I still had no idea how I ended up in this. Was I dead? I remembered the dread as I realized I lost control of the bike but nothing after that. Even with her lock screen I was able to check the date, it was right, the next day. Even if I had access to her electronics there wouldn't be any news of what happened to me this fast. Had to think. Abdomen started twisting or something. Decided to get cleaned up.\n\nHad a shower. Washing a woman's body wasn't nearly as exciting by myself as it was with someone else. New plumbing, peed n the shower. When I undressed the pad was full, threw it in the trash remembering the bill from the plumber when my high school girlfriend accidentally stopped-up my parents' toilet. Had to remember to grab the pink toothbrush, the pink hairbrush, the pastel deodorant. Considered how to dress, thought about going braless but she had big girls, went through nearly the whole bra drawer to find one with a front clasp that wasn't for special-occasions. Hope I got the panty liner positioned right. Found her jeans, still grabbed one of his t-shirts, the cell phone rang.\n\n\"Hello?\" I tentatively answered. Damn, should've tried talking to myself, I sounded like a a cross between Kim Carnes and a chimpunk.\n\n\"Sue, you okay? You didn't call-in,\" said a woman's voice.\n\n\"Uh,\" I sighed, \"yeah, just not feeling well. Sorry, I should've called.\"\n\n\"You need anything, or is Mick taking care of you?\"\n\nI hoped that was her husband's name, \"No, we're good. He went in but checked on me before he left this morning. Told me to call, but went back to sleep and forgot,\" I fibbed. No need to get into more detail, keep it simple.\n\n\"Okay, if you need anything call me, I'll let Robert know.\"\n\n\"Thanks. Will do. Bye.\"\n\nHung up the phone. Never caught her name, presumably work friend. Robert's the boss. File that away.\n\nFinshed getting dressed. Waded through the shoes to find some sneakers and socks, tied the hair into a pony tail. Went through her purse again, got keys, pocketbook, some hygiene products, somehow managed to fit all that into the pathetically small pants pockets. Grabbed a windbreaker, when in doubt reach for the pink I told myself. Took the keys out again and looked at them, couple of Schlage keys, presumably for the apartment door. A Medeco, probably for the outer door of the apartment building. A VW car key. Wherever that's parked. Smaller key, looks like for a padlock. I wandered over to the door, looked out through the peephole, unlocked it, and opened it inward. Tested the keys. One Schlage opened the deadbolt and the other turned the knob. Sign on the door read 302. Closed the door, knob locked automatically. Tested unlocking it, tested the deadbolt. Good to go.\n\nMade my way down the stairs and out to the lobby, found the front door. Tested the Medeco key, found it to work. Noted the numbers on the door, made my way out on to the street. Right I said to myself. Went right. Found the street name, committed the street, the number, and the apartment to memory. Walked on a little further found a bus stop, Silver Line apparently. Found a coffee shop, ordered a black coffee and a scone. Pulled out her debit card to pay, realized I didn't know the pin. \"Do you do credit cards?\" I asked the barrista.\n\n\"Oh sure, no problem. Just slide it through, chip and pin isn't ready yet anyway.\"\n\n\"Thanks,\" I said as I paid and signed somebody else's name that was apparently mine now too. Saw they had computers. Took my drink and scone over and sat down. Paid for a half-hour and started surfing. Nothing on CNN or FOX or any other regular news like what I was going through. Damn. Thought about the pad again and how often they're supposed to be changed. Looked that up, whew, got at least a couple more hours. Looked up the libraries and how to get to one too, no idea how much money Suzanne, or Sue I should start thinking, has, no good squandering money in a coffee shop when there are free computers at the library. Dug through the pocketbook and found a T pass.\n\nOn the bus, my thoughts drifted back to Sue again. What was she going through? Was she still in here with me? Was she terrified that her body had completely gone out of her control? I tried to calm my thoughts in some hopeful attempt that I could hear hers; nothing. If she's here and is paying attention this must be horrible. Our stop, our feels like the right pronoun until I know what's going on. Got off the bus and into the library. Found a computer and sat down.\n\n", "The lights snap on and jolt me out of my sleep. In the brief moment before my eyelids clamp shut, I glimpse the ornate room, wood paneled walls and gauche, but expensive, trimmings. Doesn’t look like any room I’d over own, definitely a hotel. \n\t\n\n“Time to get up, you’ve got a white house dinner in twenty minutes,” a voice calls from the bleached haze beyond my eyelids. Must have been the same rude person that turned on the lights before I was ready. Hands pull me quickly, almost rudely, out of bed. By the time my eyes have adjusted I’m staring at my reflection in the mirror while a woman I’ve never met starts applying makeup to my face.\n\n\n“Now, this is important,” a fussy man in lavish business suit tells me. He sets a tablet down on the table in front of me and starts flipping through pictures of old white mean, clearly people with money and power. “Make sure you talk to John Beaumont first, he’s the head of the advisory committee. GIve him a compliment on his golf game, you let him win last week but he doesn’t need to know that.”\n\n\nThe stuffy man went on. Telling me more names and more people to say specific things to. I probably should be writing this down, but I don’t even know who this man is or if I should follow what he’s telling me. Am I the crazy one or is he? He seems to know what he’s talking about, and I still don’t even know where I am.\n\n\n“Face is all done,” the woman doing makeup says. She smacks her gum loudly as she talks and I get a whiff of the flavor, cinnamon. \n\n\n\n“Right, onto dressing. Come on, come on. You know my six year old is easier to get out to school in the morning.” The fussy nameless man drags me by the hand down a hallway. The walls are white, and also fancy. Paintings of long dead men in stuffy clothes adorn every wall, offices lay just beyond the door. I don’t think I’ve ever been here before. \n\n\n\nI get led into a room where sharply dressed older man with a measuring tape around his neck starts putting a shirt on me. It’s then that I realize I’ve been in my underwear this whole time. The man dressing me has a much calmer cadence than the fussy man. I rather like his style, it’s very soothing.\n\t\n\nThe shirt is baggy, and loose on me. The older man gives it a critical eye and says, “No no, well now no, this won’t do. Shirt is much too big. I kept telling Rutherford he was getting paunchy in the stomach. We’ll have to get one of his older shirts, that’s measured correctly for this size.”\n\n\n\nHe disappears into a back room and returns a moment later with a smaller shirt that fits snugly and perfectly over me. Rutherford, is that my name? Why would an older, smaller shirt, fit better if I’m getting bigger? I try to ask questions but the old man is too busy gossiping with the fussy man to hear me. \n\n\n\nI get led before another mirror, this one full length, and get a good look at myself. I have to admit, I look good in this suit. Like I belong in this expensive house. \n\n\nThe old man with the measuring tape smiles at his work and tells me, “OK, President Rutherford, you’re ready for your dinner!” \n\n\nMy eyes bug out; president?\n\n\n“Now, just hold on, who’s president?” I finally speak up. The two men stare at me. The old man then looks to the fussy man for a response.\n\n\n“Really? OK, why aren’t his memories loaded. Frank? Frank get in here. Someone get Frank NOW.” \n\n\nOut in the hallway, people run hither at the beckoning of the fussy man, he has a position of grave authority here it seems. Frank arrives a bit later; an unkempt man with wild hair and a grubby t-shirt that is the spitting image of someone that doesn’t belong in a place so posh and expensive.\n\n\n“OK,” Frank says, “What’s going on?”\n\n\n“The memory module didn’t load and he’s got a dinner in fifteen minutes.”\n\n\n“Hold still,” Frank commands me, “This won’t hurt a bit.”\n\n\nHe reaches up to the base of my spine and opens up a panel on the back of my neck. A panel that shouldn’t be there, but somehow is. He fiddles with my spine for a moment, then closes the panel.\n\n\n“You guys booted him into safe mode, of course there’s no memories. I’ve hit load, should be ready in a minute.”\n\n\n\nI stare into the mirror and visions flood my mind. The election, the inauguration, the white house, even my wife. I am President Rutherford. \n\n\nThen my exact clone walks into the room, blonde in a red dress on his arm. “What’s the hold up boys? Am I safe to go on vacation or not?”\n\n\n\n“Yeah, sorry Mr. President, we had some trouble starting up the--” \n\n\n“They turned it on wrong,” Frank corrects the fussy man.\n\n\n“I don’t care the details,” the real President says angrily. “Is it ready or not?”\n\n\nFrank and the fussy man nod in confirmation and the president smiles in return.\n\n\n“Good, because we’ve got tickets for low g go-karting on the moon in two hours and I don’t want to miss it. Have fun at the dinner.” The real President walks out a side door to the waiting arms of his private security detail. \n\n\nI look in the mirror one more time, and fully remember who I am. Intergalactic Robotics manufactured Simulacrum model 350. Custom made, very expensive, and there whenever a politician wants to call in sick for the day. “So lifelike, even your wife won’t know” is the unofficial motto told by the salesman, and that blonde is definitely not the president’s wife. \n\n\n\n“Dear, it’s almost dinner time. Let’s go!” a husky voice calls from the next room. The real president’s real wife. I shudder for a moment. I wish I was going go-karting tonight instead. \n", "A pair of hands grabbed me by the shoulders and gently shook me out of my deep sleep. I stirred and grumbled, trying to swat the hands away. Despite being crammed into a tiny sofa, it was the best night of rest that I'd gotten in at least a week. But after persistent prodding, I finally sat up and rubbed the sleep out of my eyes. \"What is it?\" It took a few moments to even remember where I was.\n\nThree secret service agents built like solid mountains stood over me wearing identical black suits and black ties. Wires dangled from their ears and a pair of sunglasses was tucked into each one's breast pocket. Behind them was another man clad all in black, but this one was old and shriveled and bald. He didn't wear a suit, but a heavy black robe like that of a Grim Reaper. And instead of a gleaming sickle, he carried a leather-bound bible. \n\n\"Oh, god, no.\" I didn't mean to blurt that out, but I couldn't help it. I stood from the narrow bench and straightened my suit involuntarily. The Secretary of State sat next to the Secretary of the Interior nearby, both just staring at the grey linoleum with bleak expressions. On the opposite side of the room, curtains had been drawn over the large glass panels that gave a view into the surgery ward. And the First Lady was deep in conversation with a haggard, red-eyed doctor in blue surgical scrubs. I guess former First Lady now.\n\n\"Are you ready to be sworn in, Mr. President?\" the Chief Justice asked softly, holding up the bible as a reminder of why he had come. \n\nI brushed past him without an answer and joined the First Lady as the doctor walked away and pulled off his latex gloves. She turned toward me with a quivering smile. All of her effort was going into maintaining her composure. It wasn't working; tears filled her eyes. \"I'm so sorry, Elaine.\" I put a comforting arm around her, and she broke down into sobs at last. \"I'm so sorry.\"" ]	6
	[WP] Your dad left when you were young to go get some milk. You don't know that he is going on a quest for the best milk in existence.	[ "Beth gazed out of the window into the dreary British summer weather. Rain poured and poured and the puddles turned to pools and the pools turned to oceans. She was lost in deep thought. Wondering where it all went wrong. She had been reading but couldn't focus on her book. Family life just wasn't the same without dad. Her eyes wandered down to the cup she held in her frail hands. A ceramic mug with a picture of a blue cartoon cow on the side. It killed her to think about what Dad said when he left, five years ago.\n\n\"We're out of milk! I'm heading out to get some for the tea, be back in a mo!\"\n\nMEANWHILE...\n\nThe darkness of the ancient catacombs was broken by Steve's torch. It illuminated the dark hallway. At the end of the hallway was a golden door that was ajar. Someone else was here, he thought. He slid round the door to find a huge open room with a gold cube, and another man. Clearly, he was here for the same reason.\n\n\"Hey! What are you doing here?\" the man shouted.\n\n\"What are you doing here?\" Steve replied.\n\n\"The artefact inside this cube is very valuable to me,\" the man said.\n\n\"Me too,\" Steve said.\n\n\"Well I guess that's a shame because it requires two keys to open and I have the only one,\" the man said, holding up a key.\n\n\"I thought I had the only one,\" Steve said, holding up his key.\n\n\"Give me that!\" the man said, swiping a sword at Steve. Luckily, Steve blocked the attack with his sword. The two men began to fight. After countless blocks, parries and hits, Steve managed to jab the man in the chest and he fell to his knees. With his last breath he uttered,\n\n\"Use it well,\" Success! The artefact was Steve's! He took the other key and pressed both into keyholes on the side of the cube. Light spilled out from an opening in the cube that widened and gave way to a small bottle. Steve snatched the prize. At last, he thought, after five years of tracking it down. The best milk in the Universe", "The splintering of the front door jerked me from my regular morning routine, that is to say sitting on the sofa watching whatever depressing news was on with a bowl of cereal perched on my lap. Bliss. \n\nI almost dropped the bowl, a splash of milk and a few cornflakes landed on the floor as I grabbed it and turned to face the hallway. I dropped the bowl. \nThe man in the hallway turned towards me, gingerly raising his right hand. He was dirty, dishevelled, bearded, clad in some sort of strange blue jumpsuit with a myriad silver devices hanging about his waist. \n\nMy mouth was hanging open, my hand shook, behind me on the television the weather woman traded inane banter with the hosts of the news programme. The man took a slow step into the living room, a smile slowly began to spread across his face. \n\n\"Hello Robert.\" \n\n\"He-\" the word stuck in my throat, I could feel hot tears welling under my eyes, \"Dad. You came home.\" The tears broke through, I launched myself over the back of the sofa and wrapped my arms around him. \n\n\"I didn't think I'd see you again,\" he broke off the hug, I looked into his eyes, there were crow's feet and fine wrinkles starting to appear. \n\n\"I'm sorry son, I missed you so much.\" He held me again, and for a while we stood there in my messy living room, father and son, together at last. \n\n\n\"Milk and two sugars,\" I set the mug down before him, even after all these years I still remembered how he took his tea. \nI took the seat across from him, watching as he toyed with the handle of the mug, the ring on his right hand had dulled over the years. \n\n\"How's your mother?\" He didn't look at me as he asked, he could tell where she was. The photo on the wall was tattered and yellowing, the frame worn at the corners. I could see him study the old memory, my mother smiling, me sitting on my fathers shoulders, the yellow sand of Brighton beach behind us.\n\nI took a sip of my coffee, \"She left me and sis with Grandma Pat, after you left. Said she couldn't take care of us alone, needed some time, had to find a man who'd be a better father than you were.\" I tried not to show my emotion, but I could see his face drop as I spoke. \"It's been twenty years dad, I've counted every day since you left. Why?\" \n\nI could see his eye glinting, the smile returned to his face. \"Do you remember what I said to you? The morning that I, you know.\" \n\n\"Abandoned your family?\" \n\nHe nodded sheepishly, draining the mug. \n\n\"You said you were going to get a pint of milk and a newspaper from the shop, and you said you'd bring me and Sarah a Twix.\" The words stung to say, I'd replayed that moment in my mind thousands of times over the years. \n\nHe reached into a pouch on the leg of his jumpsuit, I'd forgotten what he was wearing as we spoke, rustling around for a moment before slamming a hand onto the table. He slid it back to reveal a golden wrapper, red letters, I couldn't help but laugh as I reached for the chocolate. \n\n\"A twix?\" \n\n\"I would have gotten a paper as well but it seems nobody really reads them anymore.\" \n\n\"The 21st century now dad, everything's online.\" \n\n\"Ha,\" he scoffed, \"The places I've been son, the things they have make the internet look as complex as, as smoke signals.\" \n\nA jumpsuit, strange devices, complex inventions? Either he'd been messing with some serious substances or...no. No it was ridiculous, I cursed myself silently for even thinking of it. I placed the chocolate back on the table, trying to keep my composure. \n\"You forgot the milk.\" \n\n\"Ohh my boy, you're right, I've forgotten milk. Milk from cows anyway, milk from this planet even.\" He watched my reaction, testing me, he was definitely on something. \n\"But what I've found is going to make you forget it too. I've come back for a reason son, I've come back because I need your help.\" \n\n\"My help? For what?\" \n\n\"I've finally found it, after twenty years of searching the galaxy, the planet of the Bilkaxian Megacows.\" \n\n\"The what?\" I was close to losing it, I'd been so caught up in seeing him again, and now he was spouting this nonsense instead of telling me where he'd been.\n\n\"Bilkaxian Megacows, also known as the producers of the finest milk in the universe.\" He eyed my shelves, his gaze coming to rest on the shelf where I kept my cereal. \n\n\"Grab that box of corn flakes, we've got a long way to go.\" " ]	2
	[WP] You have the ability to move objects without touching them. You've told everyone you're psychic because you know they won't believe the real reason... you can talk to ghosts and they move it all for you	[ "“What do you mean?”\n\n“I mean there’s no way we’re going to Ireland. End of discussion.” I kicked one foot up on the cheap tablecloth, absentmindedly ruffling through a deck of cards.\n\n“So that’s it? We’re just done?”\n\nI planted my feet on the ground and looked Mallon in the eye. “There’s nothing I can do. Do you understand that? I can’t afford a plane ticket. I’m barely making enough money to feed myself. Oh, excuse me, sir?” I waved energetically as a businessman chatting casually on the phone began to cross the street toward me. “Please, pick a card!” I fanned out the deck toward him with one hand.\n\nThe man avoided eye contact as he continued down the street. A few more pedestrians passed by my street corner table without as much as glancing down at me.\n\nThe translucent red-headed ghost drifted in front of me. “You know how important this is to me, Brandon,” said Mallon, “This is all I’ll ever want from you!”\n\nI scoffed, pretending I couldn’t see the Irishman. Mallon had recently overheard me mention to a friend that I discovered his descendants were living over in Ireland. Since then, he’s wanted nothing more than to go haunt them and has been doing nothing but bug me about it.\n\nI scratched my nose, covering my mouth as I spoke to the ghost. “Forget it.” Staring straight through the deceased Irishman’s distraught face, I tried to make eye contact with a family of four as they walked down the street. I smiled at the boy, who looked to be about eight years old.\n\n“Hey! You guys want to see some magic?” I fanned the deck out toward the boy, who looked hopefully up at his father for permission.\n\nThe heavyset bearded man chuckled lightly. “Okay. Let’s see it.”\n\nMallon jumped in front of me, waving his arms furiously. “Are you serious? I—I can’t believe you’d do this to me. After all we’ve been through.” He stamped his foot, but it hit nothing but air. “Stop ignoring me!”\n\nI smiled warmly, holding the deck of cards out to the boy, passing them through Mallon’s chest cavity. “Pick a card, any card. I will use my incredible psychic powers to magically read it.” I waggled my fingers mysteriously, sending the boy’s little sister into a fit of giggles.\n\n“I—Agh!” Mallon grabbed at his chest. “I can’t believe you right now. You know I hate it when you do that!”\n\nThe boy leaned forward, picking a card from near the bottom of the deck. He studied it for a moment, then passed it for the rest of his family to examine.\n\n“Now, stand back, as I psychically read the card from your own thoughts!” I pushed my metal chair back onto the curb and flapped my silvery show cape in the wind. Putting a finger to my temple, I squinted menacingly at Mallon.\n\n“Nope. I’m not doing it. I am not reading that card.” The ghost crossed his arms. “You can starve unemployed for all I care. I’m done.”\n\nI opened one eye. “It—it’s coming to me!”\n\nMallon shook his head, spinning slowly away. “No it’s not.”\n\nThe boy’s parents stared down at me, thoroughly unimpressed. I threw my hands out at the card, shivering wildly and pretending I was engaged in a brutal psychic struggle.\n\nMallon twisted his head around, a devilish half-smile on his face. He flew over to the boy, flicking the card out of his hand.\n\n“Whoa!” The boy’s eyes lit up. “How did you do that?”\n\nHis mother put a hand on his shoulder, gently steering him away from my table. “It was just the wind, honey. We should probably get going.” She threw an apologetic glance back at me as she turned to leave.\n\nMallon rubbed his hands together fiendishly, then bent down and floated underneath the table. Chuckling, he began to rattle the metal table eerily around the sidewalk. A few passersby stopped to watch.\n\n“What—what are you doing?” The boy’s father shook an unsure finger at me. “Stop that right now!”\n\nThe ghost flipped the table up into the air, sending it down into the street with a crash. Cars screeched to avoid it, smashing over the opposite curb. Grabbing the deck of cards from my hands, he flew them up into the air, letting the swarm of cards flutter to the ground around us.\n\nThe family stared at me, horrified.\n\nSlowly, the boy’s father reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. Taking out two twenties, the man crouched down and slipped them into my donation box, backing away slowly.\n\n“Easy. Easy now,” he said. “Let’s go, kids.”\n\n---\n\nPick a card, any card. Or, like, pick a story from /r/FlyingNarwhal and read it. I actually don't have a deck of cards. I don't even know any card tricks. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯" ]	1
	[WP] Write the saddest love story.	[ "I never expected to fall in love with someone through their diary.\n\n\"Excuse me?\" His mother asked me—she looked a lot older than I expected. \"But who might you be?\" I found his house using the address he himself wrote.\n\n\"A stranger for all intents and purposes.\" The weight of the book felt like fingers entwined with mine. \"But someone important nonetheless.\"\n\nShe frowned.\n\n\"Your son died.\" I wished it weren't true, but it was. \"I buried him already, his body was already in pieces by the time I found him.\" His face was the only thing unmarred—by a bear from the carnage most likely.\n\nShe put on a puzzled look. \"I'm sorry, but, I have no son.\"\n\nI felt the blood drain from me. Did I make a mistake? \"But the diary?\" In my panic, I shoved my only connection to Thomas towards her.\n\nHer eyes narrowed on seeing the faded green cover. \"Where were you from again?\" She didn't dare touch the book, and goosebumps were rising from her arms. Likewise, the book suddenly seemed all that much heavier.\n\n\"From the next city?\" There was a lump in my throat. \"Antwerp.\"\n\n\"I've only ever had a daughter young lady.\" There was an incredulous reverence to her tone, the book felt hot and clammy in my hands. \"But I'd lost my brother before.\"\n\nIt should've been summer, but the sun felt freezing against my entire person. \"Thomas?\"\n\nThe lady nodded, not Emilia Moore—but Amanda, Thomas's younger sister. She wasn't as young anymore. \"My brother.\"\n\nShe invited me in for dinner after that, and told me all she could about him—I also shared whatever was inside of the diary, and some she knew and recognized, but most of it was lost on her. Strange and unsettling, considering Thomas suffered from a spine disability or so she said—but the adventures I'd read were so vivid, I could smell and touch the forests he'd said he'd gone into himself.\n\nLastly, he supposedly disappeared thirty years ago—but the youth I'd found couldn't have been older than twenty if I were being generous. \n\nThomas Moore was a mystery in life, but more so in death, and to be fair, I never expected to fall in love with someone through their diary—but regret was all I had left of him.", "A God driven to madness by its own singularity continues to try and create a creature capable of free will outside divine influence so that It can know what it is to be loved. The catch is every model that has reached \"free will\" rejects the God for its jealousy, anger, and eternal punishment of past creations based on the choices they made. No matter how hard It tries to create the perfect world for them sweetened by he idea of an even more perfect and eternal afterlife...each generation birthed from her womb choose to reject her despite the known consequences, once they achieve free will.", "She loved when I painted. When we were first married in '52 she would choose where we would hang my new paintings. I made so many. She treasured them all. \n\nShe would laugh when I would hold her and cover her in kisses, to find out I left painted handprints on her dress. \n\nWe spent years traveling and visiting all the places she wanted to go. We joked about throwing darts on a map to decide where was next. \n\nShe cooked my favorite meal every Friday. Steak and eggs. She hated eggs. But I guess she loved me. I painted orchids all over our bedroom for her. I hated orchids. But I loved her. \n\nIn the summer of 2013 she fell ill. We had so much time together and growing old was inevitable. But we never thought about it. We were still newlyweds on our honeymoon. \n\nShe lost the ability to speak. I brought in story books and read to her as often as I could. She would smile and write on a notepad I bought for her. \"I love you\" was always my favorite. Even just written down. \n\nShe started forgetting more and more. By fall of 2014 she could hardly remember who I was. I brought my own notepad and would draw for her while she stared at me, smiling gently. \n\nShe passed early one morning in 2015. March 28th. I sat by her side. \n\nI went home to a house filled with paintings and memories. And yet it was empty. \n\nI travel to nearby places now with my canvas. I paint her using only the colors of wherever I am. In this way, she is here with me. And I am able to remember her face. The hardest part is always remembering where her freckles were, she had so many. \n\nI miss her every day. \n\nPlaced on the table beside our bed is a worn piece of notebook paper. \n\nIn wobbly cursive it says, \"I love you\"\n\n", "The day of...\n\nIt was Monday, raining. There was a bang. Loud, it came from a gun. Her father's gun. Then three loud thuds. First the gun and her phone, then her body. The sound of the casing, the sound of her lifeless body, it haunts me. Nothing haunts me more than her last words.\n\nThe day before...\n\nI saw her future. I saw my future. I saw our future. I didn't believe what I saw, but I knew what was going to happen. I didn't want to say goodbye so soon, I didn't want to let go of her. What use is a building if its capstone is removed. What use if its foundation is cracked.\n\nFive days before...\n\nShe wasn't cheery with me like she always was. We knew our lives were difficult, but we did our best to make it better. I promised her in the beginning I would never leave her, that I would always be here for her when she needed someone.\n\nThree weeks before...\n\nWe were fighting, she didn't believe anything I said. She felt I was lying to her, but how could I lie to someone that I swore I would never hurt. She knows how I was and how I changed for her. She knows how I've tried helping her. I swore I'd be with her through thick and thin.\n\nTwo months before...\n\nShe admitted to me her deepest problems, the things that caused her depression. Opening up was the first step in getting help, and I know firsthand how damaging depression could be. I didn't want her to go down the path I went down.\n\nFive months before...\n\nBeing with her always managed to be the highlight our day. No matter what happened, we could always come together, share how we felt, then embrace each other and know there is someone we could rely on. We kissed. We were happy.\n\nNine months before...\n\nIt was Monday, raining. I hated Monday's and I hated the rain. This coffee shop was my only reprieve before my classes started. I know of everyone who works here, and I hate all of them. But there was this new girl, and we locked eyes. I felt something other than hate for once.\n\nSeconds before...\n\nI told her I loved her, and always will. Her last words were \"I love you too, and I'm so sorry I have to leave you...\"\n\nBang.\n\nI hate everything again." ]	4
	[WP] In a meeting, your boss begins dancing. The clock JOHN melts. A Tyrannosaurus crashes through JOHN the wall. A woman in a CAN YOU HEAR ME JOHN wheelchair rolls up the wall. Reality is JOHN YOU NEED TO PAY ATTENTION crashing.	[ "Ugh... another monday meeting about the project that I'm in charge of. It's raining outside and I'm stuck listening to Anderson rabbit on about things I already know whilst Karren sucks up to Vasquez whenever he starts criticizing how I'm running \"Project Junebug\" as management decided to call it. I glance up at the clock as Anders brought up \"the recent setback\", which was entirely Ken's fault, for the billionth time but this time, there's something different. The clock... the clock's melting... what the hell?\n\nJohn\n\nWha... what was that? I look around and Susane from accounts is rolling up the wall and my head begins to split with pain. Anders just started body popping, what the hell's going on?\n\nJohn!!\n\nA Tyrannosaurus just came through the bloody wall!! The Hell's going on!? I can't breath. My chest's tightening! Oh God! I'M DYING!? NO! NO! NO!\n\nJOHN, YOU NEED TO CALM DOWN, FOCUS ON ME!\n\nthe world starts fading into nothingness and a face is coming into view. It's Paul, wearing that stupid hat of his and I can smell sick coming from my shirt, great, that's this shirt ruined. I push myself up and stretch my back as the shit-hole apartment I'm in comes back into view; there's all sorts of stains on the floor: beer, cocktails, vomit and what I seriously hope is barbecue sauce. I'm sat in a puddle of my own piss and vomit and all I'm left with a pounding head, sore ribs and the memory of my fantasy: a life with money, a good job and board meetings, most people around here don't want any of that but I do, I desperately want an escape from this shit-hole existance. I can do it, I can do it: I can get clean, I can get my grades up and finish college, I can make all that happen... only preferably without the melting clock and wall riding wheelchair, the dinosaur was cool though and seeing an old man boddy popping was certainly interesting.\n\n\"Dude,\" Paul chuckled, he's still high, \"you ok man?\" He rocks back slightly, trying to keep his balance.\n\n\"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Just a bad trip,\" I breathe heavily and push myself up and past him, \"I just need to go book an appointment, I'll see you around.\" I leave the apartment and start dialing the clinic in town, I can do it, I don't want to end up a burnt out waste like my dad, that's why I moved in with mum in the first place; I want everything I saw in that trip. Especially the dinosaur.", "I stared at the papers strewn about in front of me. I knew they were all important but today was a day I just didn't need to read them. I limply tapped the pen in my hand on the conference table and contemplated looking up at the people around me. The monsters... The sheep... I decided to take a chance.\n\nSitting at the conference table were seven of my coworkers, all staring at my boss who was happily going on and on about how good profit was looking and how great we were all doing... But I just knew he was fighting off his urges to make snide comments about me. They all were. They all emit an odor rotten with dishonesty. I bet they taste as foul as the pills I take... Used to take... It's been a month since I flushed them and I've never thought more clearly.\n\nJust as I thought of the pills I didn't miss my hog of a boss broke out into a little jig over how big our bonuses would be this year due to our excellent performance. His happiness and optimism is as heavy as my suit pocket. Stupid dancing monkey... How long do I have to suffer in this meeting? Dare I look at the clock? It will only depress me.\n\nI could hear the ticking though so I had to look at it. I honestly couldn't stop myself once the tick grew louder and louder amongst the laughter of my idiot coworkers. I glanced up at the wall and just as I was able to make out that it was 10:36 it seemed like the clock was... melting? At first it Just appeared to be the hands dripping into a puddle at the bottom of the face, but soon the numbers followed, then the frame of the clock started to resemble the work of Dali altogether. I found myself transfixed...\n\nJohn?\n\nDid one of those pigs just say my name? Can they not see this? What if I look away and it's gone? I can't look away. Suddenly the melting clock started to slip into a small crack in the wall below it. Was the crack always there? I stood up and leaned closer and I could feel a hand touch my shoulder but I forcefully pushed it off. The crack grew and grew and then without warning the wall burst and the giant head of a tyrannosaurus crashed through! I shouted in terror and backed up to the wall clutching the heft in my pocket...\n\nJOHN!?!?\n\nAre they doing this?! I looked around the table and everyone was standing and staring at me. Everyone but Peggy of course, she was in a wheelchair. But they were all staring at me and they looked at me as if I had done something wrong. Did they not see the beast!? Slowly, four of them (all the other guys) started moving towards me. Were they going to tackle me? Take me away? Interrogate me? Feed me to the dinosaur?! I pushed past them and ran over to get behind Peggy, surely they wouldn't force an attack near her... But as soon as I got near her she screamed and then rolled away, up the wall to the ceiling! WHAT IS HAPPENING!?!?\n\nCAN YOU HEAR ME JOHN!?!?\n\nThis isn't right, they're all in on it! They all are! Dirty pigs! They want me crazy! They want me on the pills! They all hate me and want me locked up! I reached into my pocket and pulled out the gun I'd been hiding for a week. I started aiming wildly around the room but they all had no faces, their voices were static, the lights were flickering, worms were coming out of the carpet, the table legs were growing roots, the walls were crying... I pointed the gun straight up and screamed STOP! at the top of my lungs, I nearly fired the gun... \n\nBut as I was about to squeeze the trigger the wind was knocked out of me and I was on the floor in an instant! John It was my bosses voice... You need to pay attention... He had me pinned down, one of my coworkers had taken my gun. I don't know what's wrong with you and I don't know what's happened here but we're going to get you sorted out. Security is on the way and we've called an ambulance and the police. I know this isn't you. You've been here 8 years, buddy. We'll figure this out but right now you need help.\n\n...And now I'm strapped to a stretcher. They're taking me to psych again. I don't know how long I'll be in there this time around.", "I sit down at the end of the table, as always. Our annual bi-weekly analysis meeting is here, Becky is probably going to try her best to suck up to Frank for that pay-raise, and she'll probably get it too. I'm imagining it'll be something like: 'I've sold twice the assigned deadline last week, I plan to double that number as well!' Sure you do, Becky, we all believe that. \n \nWe all get get our files out, Frank loosens his collar and pulls out the screen. Another boring excel sheet with pointless numbers, hooray. He points, talks, everyone shakes their head in agreement, woohoo, it all just works. \n \nFrank puts away his pointer, odd, are we done yet? He sets it down and stares me dead in the eye, have I been caught not caring? Wouldn't be the first time. He starts moonwalking. \n \nWhat. \n \nHave we cured cancer? Solved world hunger? Is this some joke I'm not involved in? I turn to the group, everyone's staring at me. I check my watch, it's just blank. I've had this watch for a week now, when did this happen? I look up at the wall clock usually hung up, it appears to be melting. Melting into the wall, at that, it's just dripping and reforming into a growth on the wall, its colour changing. \n \nI close my eyes and grab my head. I'm not tired, I don't have a headache, this has got to be some hallucination. I look back up, Frank is still dancing- \n \nJOHN \n \nI jump from my seat, the voice came from nowhere. It's like that voice you hear when you're reading, it just came from inside. \n \nJOHN, wake up! Cut the \n \nI'm genuinely freaking out, I jump out of my seat, everyone is still staring at me with their dead eyes. I'm breaking out in a cold sweat, my entire body is shaking, I have genuinely no clue what is happening. \n \nI flip open my cell phone, all the numbers have been switched. I press where the buttons \"911\" usually are, my phone just dies. I hold the power button, nothing is happening. The figures of everyone's faces are shifting, shapes previously not imagined, to colours that nobody has made before. \n \nI look back up at the clock, what appears to be a tyrannosaurus bursts through, breaking from the spot the clock was, also dancing. Nobody even flinches, much less cares about the current surroundings. I can't even read their faces anymore, it's just an incomprehensible mess that man's mind can't possibly think up. \n \nJenny turns her wheelchair around, her head still facing me, making an audible crunch. I wince at the noise, the insides that had to have moved for such a quick motion could not have been nice. She suddenly, with one swift motion of her arms, wheels herself up the wall, all while still staring me dead in the eyes. I almost faint at the thought of what that must feel like. \n \nMy breathing is heavy, I can hardly stand, this has to be a nightmare. \n \nJOHN, CAN YOU HEAR ME?! SHUT IT DOW \n \nThe voice cuts out again, I shake my head, trying to tell myself this is a dream. I shout, I kick, I punch the desk. My eyes are forced open, and a vast array of lights zoom past me, quickly, forcefully. The way ahead is brighter than anything I've ever seen, and I'm rushing towards it at incomparable speeds. Suddenly, everything goes black, and I can feel hands on me. I open my eyes again, and everything is too bright. So bright, it's blinding, but I can't blink. My mind feels like it's being electrocuted. My entire body tingles, and it takes a few seconds before I can start moving my arms and legs. I look down, they're completely bound, I'm in a strange chair that binds me to it, restricting my movement. \n \nI try to speak, but my breath leaves before it can form words. My chest heaves and sinks quickly, I can't even form a single sound. A man in a white coat runs up to me, shining a small flashlight in my eyes. He simply pats me on the back and undoes my bindings quickly, looking behind him to some unidentifiable figures. \n \n\"Test, uh, number 373 has failed. Mark this as a conditioning error. Subject: John Marrow, harmed mentally, physically unknown status. His brain can't keep up, but his bodily functions seem steady. Wrap this up, get him to the infirmary, get the next subject in.\"", "The Butterfly Effect, a beautiful name for an idea we had such limited knowledge about. At the work meeting my boss began tap dancing, fazing in and out of existence just like the co-workers around me. The boss is dancing with a top hat, now dressed as a hippie, now with a barbaric club, now he doesn't exist. The clock melts, in fact, time itself is melting around me; literally. Then it becomes visible wave lengths.\n\n\"John\" Her voice is repeated in my head as I close my eyes; I straighten in the chair and I accidentally knocked over my cup of coffee on the table. \n\n\"Shit.\" A Tyrannosaurs breaks through the wall, the wall reforms, then seizes to exist, the building and floor disappear, my body jerks at the sense of falling, just to be yanked back into the chair mere seconds later.\n\n\"JOHN!\" The voice becomes shouting, ringing in my head, bouncing off every crevice in my cranium. The scenery and people around me change, it's been like this since I set out to try and correct my mistakes, to save my loved ones, to make everything go my way. The office became a hospital, a woman in a wheelchair begins rolling up the wall.\n\n\"JOHN YOU NEED TO PAY ATTENTION!\" I did pay attention, I just didn't know what I was getting into. Reality as I knew it was crashing down around me, lights were replaced by candles, then camp fires. Everything around me flashed in and out of my 'reality' almost faster than I could perceive them.\n\n\"John, you can't play God. Don't be a fool.\" I should have listened, but I.. we had no idea what the hell we got ourselves into. String Theory, Butterfly Effect, Parallel Universes: they all barely scratched the surface. Some would be amazed at what I saw before me, but just as these fazed in and out of existence, so did I. She was right: I wasn't a God and I was a fool to think I could be. I unleashed something the likes of which had never been seen, with no hope of returning to normality.", "Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.\n\nThe clock on the wall above Mr. Henderson's desk marched ever onward, counting off the seconds until they turned into minutes, and the minutes until they turned into hours. In this world of inevitable change and hopeless hindsight, the clocks always manage to keep ticking away.\n\nTick. Tick. Tick. Tick.\n\nHenderson droned on about something or other. I couldn't remember what he was talking about and couldn't be bothered to focus and find out. The day was spiraling toward night at a pace which somehow managed to seem infinitely slow when you focused on it, but faster than light when you zoned out for a bit. This was every day for me.\n\nTick. Tick. Tick. Ti.....\n\nThe clock stopped. After seemingly years of listening to that red line hammer its way around the clock face, the lack of sound was a deafening orchestra all unto itself. I snapped out of my reverie to look up at it. The red line was shaking back and forth slightly, as if it couldn't decide whether to march forward or turn around and go home. I stared at it until my vision started to fade at the edges and the clock turned grey. There was no sound without that ticking. I couldn't hear anything.\n\nI looked down at Mr. Henderson, who was standing at the head of the conference table and gesturing at his powerpoint presentation. Only now he didn't have a face. His face was a clock, and the red line was shaking. The clock stared at me until I started to fade into grey too. I could feel my edges becoming irrelevant as Mr. Henderson began shaking violently and throwing his arms around in a strange rhythmic motion. The red line shook in place, refusing to move forward or backward and instead staring at me in cold defiance as I forgot who I was.\n\nHenderson's clock face began to melt slowly downward, drooling onto his suit jacket and blending with it. The red line shifted downward as well until it was his tie, and it shook back and forth at me.\n\nHey John, you there buddy?\n\nThe wall behind where the clock was dancing started to crack and peel. Light shone in between the folds of drywall as it expanded and reformed into a huge hole. The air outside rushed in, replacing the vacuum the room had been in. A large, lurking shape shambled in behind the dancing clock Henderson and gently placed a malformed arm on his shoulder. I could see now that it was a dinosaur, and it didn't look happy with what it saw.\n\n\"John, you really need to pay attention to what you are seeing,\" the dinosaur said as it picked up the clock and hung it back on the wall where it belonged. Henderson hung there, suspended by his suspenders, his red tie line still shaking back and forth and refusing to move forward.\n\nI tilted my head in confusion. What was I missing here? Susan from accounting was rolling her wheelchair up the wall and onto the ceiling, attempting to make her way over to the clock. Her wheels seemed to be stuck in mud, though, and her progress was slow. I rose from my chair.\n\nJOHN, seriously man, help me out here, can you?\n\nSuddenly the clock's tie shot upward and Henderson was hanging from it, his neck bent at an odd angle. The dinosaur looked on in approval. A beam of sunlight from the hole in the wall struck me as I strode to the clock, where Susan was attempting to disengage the red line from the ceiling so Henderson could breathe. She paused in her efforts and looked down at me.\n\n\"This isn't healthy, John. It's been ten years. We need to see some progress.\"\n\nI turned away from her and continued on towards the hole. There wasn't sunlight on the other side, anymore. Instead, I saw the soft, loving walls of my room. Everything was so warm and comfortable. The man in white was giving me my candy, which I wasn't allowed to have in my mouth for reasons I didn't quite understand. The dinosaur put its hand on my shoulder just before I stepped through the hole.\n\n\"Okay John, enjoy your sleep. We'll try this again tomorrow.\"" ]	5
	[WP] 2000 years after the extinction of humanity, and alien excavation group lands to discover what human art was like. After weeks of searching, they find a child's fridge drawing	[ "Piece title: Unknown\n\nArtist: Unknown\n\nArtist Species: Human\n\nMedium: Chemical analysis has determined the art to be made with colored wax, but rather than melted on, it was scraped on. The canvas appears to be processed biomatter from another species on Earth.\n\nFound in the crumbling megacities of Humanity, this drawing appears to be a special representation of the human form. The piece shows three human figures. Our scientists believe there is one male parent, one female parent, and one female offspring, however it is difficult to tell because of the artist’s choice to represent the human form with simplified anatomy. The three Humans are all facing forward, standing on a vibrant green surface.\n\nThe human anatomy in this piece is represented with lines and circles, instead of the detailed anatomically correct form that many artists tend to use.\n\nDown in the bottom right corner, there is what we assume to be the artist’s signature, but it is written in a stylistic way that renders it illegible by our Earthan linguists.\n\nThis piece was found in what our archaeologists believe to be a residential district, so we can only assume that this piece was put up for purchase many times and perhaps was circulated through Human artist circles for decades, or even centuries.\n\nConsidering the fragility of the medium, it is surprising how well preserved this piece is." ]	1
	[WP] He pointed the gun at me, looked me in the eye and said...	[ "He pointed his gun at me, looked me in the eye, and said: \"Wonder Bread is actually quite delicious!\"\n\nI, a man in my late twenties wearing naught but crocs, boxers, and a bathrobe, continue to aim my weapon between his eyes. My other hand held a basket of ice cream and the wretched white bread, and I quickly lose my patience. I crouch down and set the basket on the floor, keeping my pistol true.\n\nThe discharge of a third weapon scares the daylights out of me and causes the forward gun man to fire off a shot. I recover, fire twice into his chest and then jump to duck behind the junk food stand. A quick assessment of myself concluded that while effectively deaf, I was left unmarked - que the sigh of relief.\n\nAs my hearing gradually returned, I mashed an earplug in and called around the corner: \"Who's hit?!\" Two shots, ten left.\n\nAll I heard in response was a crying sound. Questioning, I glance around the corner - see nothing. Actually rising to a full two thirds of my hight, as to retain cover, I allow myself to peek out for a better scope of the scene.\n\nI see the man I shot, some blood and broken displays behind the counter, and a pair of shaking hands slowly rising above the counter.\n\n\"Who was hit?!\"\n\nThe crying voice responds, \"O-one of the masked men!\"\n\nI stand up all the way. \"Well, hmph.\" Spotting my basket, I stoop to grab it and set it on the band. Investigating, I discover a woman and what appears to be her daughter clasped to her chest. I step over them and turn off the conveyor belt before my basket falls off. Turning, then, back to the mother: \"Ain't nowhere safe, now-a-days.\"\n\nShe laughed, though torn between adrenaline and absolute fear. The girl she clutched was obviously her daughter, and awfully cute - though more confused than scared. I grab a candy pop off the rack next to us and hand it to the girl with a sincere smile. \"Loud in here tonight, huh?\"\n\nShe laughed...\"\n\nI look out at the room. It's done up pretty for the reception, the newlyweds up front, and me finishing up my story.\n\n\"That's..\" I look to Zoe at my right and smile again. \"That's the first time I met Allison or my Zoe. But I wouldn't change it for the world.\"\n\nA splattering of applause turned into an uproar within moments, and afterwards followed music, food and revelry the likes of which unknown since my own wedding.\n\nHours later, they found me dead in a corner. The happiest corpse in the room.", "He pointed the gun at me, looked me in the eye, and said, \"This could've been very easily avoided, my friend.\"\n\nI just stared at him, refusing to break eye contact. In my opinion, there was nothing left to say.\n\nWaiting for a response that never came, he lowered his gun and scoffed. \"Of course you're doing this. You always do this. This is why our relationship failed, Devon.\"\n\nHe stuck his nose in the air, face creased in disgust. \"Seriously, learn to communicate. It's so annoying. You just sit there and stare, like you expect me to read your mind and know exactly what's wrong.\"\n\nI rolled my eyes. He continued with, \"And then you have the gall to burn my house down because I didn't happen to buy you the exact right flowers.\"\n\n\"To be fair, they were carnations. You know I'm allergic to carnations.\"\n\n\"No, I didn't, because you never told me you were. Which is because you don't know how to properly communicate.\"\n\n\"Okay, fine, maybe I didn't talk as much as I should've. Better late than never, though, right? We could try again.\"\n\n\"We could, but that would require me to forgive you for several counts of arson and first-degree murder. I don't think I'm going to do that.\"\n\n\"Fair enough.\"\n\nApparently satisfied with my answer, he put his gun back up and pulled the trigger four times. And missed four times. While standing ten feet away from me.\n\nHe threw the gun on the ground and ran away, leaving me tied to a splintery wooden chair." ]	2
	[WP] Your dog is immortal. He's been your best friend for your entire life, but now you must pass on. You used to be happy you could never lose your best friend, but now he's going to lose his.	[ "73 years. That's how long Bucky and I have been with one another. I was 5 when he first waddled through my bedroom door on Christmas. My parents stood in my doorway and smiled as I leaped out of bed into a torrent of brown and shiny fur and puppy kisses. It, to this day is still one of the best moments of my life.\n\nAs I grew so did Bucky. I moved away and went to college when I was 18. I thought it would be the last time I would really see Bucky for an extended period of time. I cried the night before I left, and he gently licked my face as I fell asleep.\n\nFour years later I graduated and got the job of my dreams. Now that I was out of the dorms I could bring old Bucky to live with me and my new wife. That's right, I got married.\n\nAlexa was beautiful, and when Bucky showed up he loved her just as much as I did. He still had his youthful vigor. His coat was still brown and shiny. He still gave kisses like an excited little puppy. He looked and behaved just as he did when I left. I thought I was just lucky to have a 19 year old dog.\n\nTen years later. My daughter, Cheryl, is starting kindergarten. Bucky was sitting there right next to me as she got on the bus. 29 years. It must be some sort of record.\n\nI buy Cheryl a puppy, recreating the moment that I had those long years ago for her. Bucky probably won't be around much longer, and I'm sure my daughter will miss him. I tell myself it is for her, but it is really for me.\n\nMy daughter graduates. Her dog Annabelle, has aged and is now on death's door. Bucky is still here, unchanged. I count my blessings and don't question it. It becomes a talking point when I meet someone new. A few pretend to believe me, fewer actually do.\n\nMy daughter now has children of her own. It is getting hard to keep track of all the little ones running around. Bucky likes kids. He always has. He sprints around the yard wrestling. He barks playfully. I wish I could run like that.\n\nAlexa has passed. My daughter comes to the funeral. I hardly see her now that she's some fancy executive and lives in New York. She has to fly back that night. Bucky sits on my lap and licks my face as a weep, just like he always has.\n\nI'm having trouble getting out of bed in the mornings. Sometimes I forget to eat. Sometimes I forget where I am. Bucky is always there though. Sitting in my lap. It's getting harder to take care of him. I don't know what will happen when I go. I'm sure it is near.\n\nI'm in a place with other people like me now. They don't allow dogs. My daughter couldn't take Bucky either. I still see him, but I can't trust my own mind. I don't know if that is him outside my window. I see him running across the lawn and I cry. I see him sitting in my bed and I cry. I see him in the kitchen and I cry. Bucky isn't here to lick my face.\n\nI hope he is doing well. I don't know where he is. I don't know if he is being cared for. I don't know anything anymore. I just hope that he is happy." ]	1
	[WP] death isnt a single entity but is actually a dead loved one who is forced to bring you to the other side	[ "\"Shut up, you dufus, and listen!\" God took a deep breath and tried to calm Himself down. He did not forget what happened to an entire planet the last time he snapped. \"I am a loving God\", he reminded himself; and quickly counted to five billion. The clouds around him became tranquil again as he spoke.\n\n\"It has nothing to do with those rituals you ripped from a Sandman comic. You're not cheating death; it is simply that there is nobody to harvest you.\"\n\n\"Harvest?\"\n\n\"Listen. Since Azrael has retired-\"\n\n\"Retired?\"\n\n\"Will you shut up? When someone dies, I select a willing person from Heaven to collect their soul.\"\n\n\"What if they are to go to hell?\"\n\n\"No one goes to h- uh- You know what, I work in mysterious ways, okay? Pay attention.\"\n\n\"Sorry.\"\n\n\"Goodness! I have never seen anything like this. Nobody wants to harvest you, not even your parents. I simply cannot convince anybody to come down there and talk to you. Tried to force your father into it, too. He said he'd rather sit with a fork up his ass for all eternity. He wanted to give away his 72 virgins! I would harvest you myself but that would be a huge insult for the rest of the folks. Besides I don't want to be near you; you stink. God damn it, I created rivers, lakes, seas, fucking OCEANS on that planet; wash your dick every once in a while will you? Even Adolf had Eva to harvest him, what's up with that?\"\n\n\"Hm. So are you saying that I am immortal, because nobody likes me?\"\n\n\"Yes\", God said in a resigned tone.\n\n\"Huh.\" The man thought for a while, shrugged, tipped his fedora and said, \"M'lord.\" Then walked away whistling." ]	1
	[WP] You slowly begin to realize that you are the love interest in a generic YA novel, but you want nothing to do with the protagonist.	[ "This morning in school some shit happened. For whatever stupid stuff I had done, karma had me locked up in the broom closet with that nerd in our class for 3 hours.\n\nFinally got home, after dinner and shower, it was still 8pm but I am already exhausted, so I got into bed and tried to get some sleep. \n\nFor some reason, I keep thinking about that nerd. The urge of calling him or calling my friend to tall about him is so strong I almost jump off my bed, these ideas is so annoying and kept me from falling asleep. So I get up and find something to do.\n\nI am usually a reading type of girl. But now I can't find any books that match my mood, so I started my rarely used PC and browse the Internet.\n\nTyped google.com into the address bar, I pressed Enter on my keyboard. The page show a completely blank page. I was surprised and refreshed. It is still a blank page.\n\nI thought to myself:\"Maybe Google is down.\" and typed in reddit.com. It loads, and again, blank. Now I started to panic a little, I checked my connection and everything is working and running.\n\nMaybe reddit is down too, I thought to myself. So I tried tumblr.com, twitter.com, facebook.com... everything was blank. I even tried pornhub.com just for the sake of seeing a site working, but it was blank as well.\n\nShocked, unraveled. I feel like I had lost the connection to the outside world. Maybe WWIII just started? Or a plague shut down the Internet? I decided to go downstairs to find my family and talked to them. And then, there was a beep came from my PC.\n\nThere is a window opened, and the only thing in it was a large text that says \"How did you get here?\" Ha, I knew it. My PC must be hacked. Then a new window opened and says \"Look behind you\".\n\nI turned my head and sees a 40 years old man that looked like a hobo. His clothes were untidy and his hair was messy.\n\n\"Greetings, Anna.\" He said \"I am The Writer, or in your world, I am the god.\"\n\nI paused for a moment to clear up my thought, then I responded:\"How did you get in here?\"\n\n\"Like I said, I am a god.\"\n\n\"If you really is a god, why did you show up in my house then?\"\n\n\"It's complicated, Anna. So I will make it as simple as i can. You are a character of my novel, a love novel, and you are the love interest in it.\n\nI feel a urge to vomit because somehow this fact disgusted me in so many ways, What the actual ***? Have I really been nothing but a fictional girl who was reading her script all this time?\n\nHe continued:\"And now, I have an issue writing it. As you can see, you are now doing things that I didn't thought in my mind. Somehow I still wrote them, the blanks sites you browsed is caused by a contradiction, since these sites were supposed to only be in the memories of characters by are not actually used for browsing.\"\n\nMe:\" So everything happened in my life was nothing more than fake memories implanted inside me?\"\n\nGod: \"Well, not everything. You were born in the beginning of this book. Where memories from that point really happened. Apart from that, yes, everything was backstories.\"\n\nMe:\"...\"\n\nGod: \"Too much information for you, I actually only came to tell you one thing. I know you got locked up in the broom closet this morning, you were suppose to talk to Steven, instead, you two stayed in awkward silence for 3 hours. He is the main character and this kind of situation is not good for the plot.\"\n\nMe:\" So I had to fell in love with that guy?!!!\"\n\nGod: \"Duh? You are my creation, Anna. You are supposed to do what I wanted you to, not to doubt why.\"\n\nMe:\" So what would happened to me if I did?\"\n\nGod: \"You guys would started dating, and then a fight occurs, and you guys split but still get back together again. Then the story ends.\"\n\nMe:\" What happen if it did?\"\n\nGod:\"Well, all of you will be destroyed. Don't worry, that period of time of the start and the end will be read by many people! You will be famous, maybe a movie adaption, and your own fan base! How cool is that?\"\n\nMe:\"YOU MEAN EVERYONE WOULD DIE? AND ALL THIS FOR ONE STUPID LOVE STORY?\"\n\nGod: Geez, tone down a bit, Anna. You would not die, you will be living forever in the readers' heart.\n\nMe:\" WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK...I am sorry I need a few moments to process this.\"\n\nI calmed myself down. I took a few deep breath in and out, my mind accepted this cool reality. Suddenly, a wild idea pops into my mind.\n\nMe: \"What if I don't date him, what would happen?\"\n\nGod: You see, this is why i came talking to you, dear Anna. This morning you were suppose to have your first spark with him in the broom closet. but looking from what happened doesn't seem like it. So I wanted you to go talk to him tomorrow morning, so that the story can process.\"\n\nMe:\"...What if I don't?\"\n\nGod:\"Well, the story can't process and will go on forever, wait, don't tell me you are planing to...\"\n\nMe: \" Thanks for telling me, from now on I won't even walk near that dude.\"\n\nGod: \"That would destroy my art! You are my creation! You are suppose to do whatever I wanted you to!\"\n\nMe: \"Well too bad I am now self-conscious, If I don't date him, the story won't end and everyone stays alive forever.\"\n\nGod: \"What about my work?! I put so much efforts into this world! Just for you two's sake, do you know how much time I spend?!\"\n\nMe: I don't care, and I don't want to know too! Now, say goodbye or I will kill myself here, making your story worst!\"\n\nThe God scream in rage and faded away. The night was back to silence again.\n\nThen an earthquake occurs, ripping the ground in half. The entire town fell into it. Seem like the god is not pleased with what I did and decided for a little punishment. Before I know it, everything went black." ]	1
	[WP] While surfing the web one late night, you get a notice on screen that reads "You have reached the end of the Internet" with a link. Against your better judgment, you click it.	[ "Sigh After surfing Reddit for a few hours, I decided to go to youtube. Instead, an error popped up, saying \"Error: 404 - Site not found.\" Weird. I must have typed the link wrong? Nah, it's the same spelling that works every single time. I retry anyways, except this time, a message shows up saying \"Error: 404 - Site not found.\" Except, what's that, a link? I didn't see this last time, why is there a link?\n\nThis link makes me feel... suspicious. I feel as if I shouldn't click it, but I ignored my gut, and decided to click it anyways. It brings me to a website, its all white, with the exception of a few words in black. The words read: \"You have reached the end of the internet.\" Again, another link? If this is the end of the internet, why would there be a link? Oh well.. I click it anyways. It brings me to another site, this time, in blood red, with big black text... on fire. The message this time reads: \"WELCOME TO HELL.\" \n\nThat alone just gave me the creeps, and somewhat scares me... What's that? Another link, in almost impossible to read text? I wonder where this goes - I click it. It reads - with white background and blue-ish text with a halo around it - \"WELCOME TO HEAVEN.\" Whattt? I almost immediately forget the link I pressed before, this time wondering why it says this. And again, yet ANOTHER link??? This time, in quite readable and very noticeable text - reading \"Why do you continue?\" I click. \n\nNow everything goes black. I'm sitting in a throne-like chair, am I a king or something now? A man shows up in front of me, with a huge beard, almost the size of the man himself - he must have been growing this beard ever since he started growing facial hair - He doesn't introduce himself. He just says: \"How are you doing today, Chris?\" I reply, \"Good..? Who are you?\" The man responds with, \"That's not important.\" He just leaves it at that. Guess I should ask more questions, \"Okay, what is important? Why am I here?\" He replies something somewhat useful, \"Well, that depends. Are you here from the \"end of the internet,\" \"end of the world,\" or \"end of the universe?\"\" Those are some interesting scenarios, \"Uhh, the end of the internet, I guess.\" The man sits on a chair that appears out of nowhere, almost as if he summoned it.\n\n\"Alrighty, you're here because you are our new king of the internet. The last one just passed away a few minutes ago.\" I respond, quite confused, \"What? Where is this place? Am I inside a digital matrix of some kind?\" The man just disappears. Okay, am I like, Kevin Flynn or something now? Do I just make things appear that I think about? I think about home, and all of a sudden, my house shows up. I decide to enter - Which ended up being quite uneventful. Everything is literally the same as it is at my house. Well, let's see... How about some people - Family perhaps? My mom shows up out of nowhere, just... standing in the living room, doing nothing, along with my dad. \n\nI go to my room to think about what is going on. I enter, and my brother is sitting there doing... nothing? Are they all just empty shells? I think about how my family usually is, but nothing is really coming up - do I really know my family so little that I can't remember their personalities, their quirks, and their lives? I decide to lay down on the bed, trying to think about them, but honestly, nothing is coming up. Can I remember friends? I think about one of my only friends, Luke, do I know anything about him? He's... nope, nothing is coming up. I'm still laying down, thinking.. I realize I rarely hang out with people, on a worse than introvert level; I'm always sitting on the computer, browsing reddit, youtube, facebook, and various other websites I learned about whilst browsing. \n\nI lie still for a few hours, then... tears start rolling down my eyes. I don't want to be here any longer, I want to go hang out with my family, learn about my friends, and just... be with people. \n\nGoing to re-edit this later, kind of out of ideas for now... Criticism accepted.\n\nSorry if this was terrible. My first attempt - If the formatting was terrible, please... nerf." ]	1
	[WP] Your guardian angel has decided to take the next step in protecting you, and has started telling you when people lie to you. However, your angel is not omniscient, and is particularly paranoid.	[ "They parted ways under a flickering neon sign that said CPEN. He watched her all the way to the subway station. Then she slipped out of sight and was gone.\n\n\"You can't put your faith in people like that,\" said Winifred, hovering just off the pavement. David shrugged.\n\n\"I didn't, did I?\"\n\nWinifred nodded. \"And yet, you seem regretful.\"\n\n\"I liked her, is all,\" said David, scuttling backwards until his shoulders rested up against the bar's brick wall. \"I just liked her.\"\n\n\"She lied about Bowie,\" said Winifred, swooping to hover just off David's shoulder. \"Even you could tell that was a lie. She lied about her last boyfriend, too. It wasn't months ago, David. It was days. And he wasn't half the jerk she made him out to be.\"\n\n\"Okay. Okay.\"\n\nThey sat a while in silence. David picked at the edges of his sneakers. \n\n\"It's just starting to feel...\" said David, slowly, thoughtfully. \"It's starting to feel like everyone's lying. All the time. Is that just...is that how people are? We just can't talk to each other without being full of shit?\"\n\n\"It's fear, I think,\" said Winifred, holding a pale, luminescent finger up to her chin. \"No trust. We do it to ourselves, I suppose. Made a world that values perfection and fantasy. Who can trust themselves to be good enough as they really are?\"\n\n\"Well, should I be holding that against people, then?\" asked David. \"Mandy...yeah, half of what she said was bullshit, but why'd she bother? Why'd she lie?\"\n\n\"She didn't trust that she was good enough,\" said Winifred blandly.\n\n\"Good enough for what, though? For me? I mean, doesn't that count for something?\"\n\n\"Perhaps, but that won't come to anything good, will it? Lies. Lying. Make believe. Eventually you have to start living in the picture you've painted. And if it's not a picture you like...\"\n\nDavid rolled his neck. It cracked, loud and satisfying. \"So it's hopeless, then?\"\n\n\"No,\" said Winifred. \"You just have to meet someone who doesn't lie. If they don't lie, it means they trust in themselves. And if they trust in themselves, they'll trust in you. That's what I want, anyway. You to meet someone who doesn't lie.\"\n\n\"Okay. Okay.\"\n\nWinifred's crystal eyes swept down towards David. \"Is it too much? My help? Would you prefer I left you alone?\"\n\n\"I know you mean well,\" said David hollowly. \"I just don't know where this all goes.\"\n\n\"But you at least understand why I do it?\"\n\nDavid looked up at Winifred and smiled. \"Yeah. Of course. And I appreciate it. I'm sorry. I just get...it runs you down after a while. That's all.\"\n\nWinifred nodded. \"David?\"\n\n\"Yeah.\"\n\n\"I still love you.\"\n\nDavid laughed. \"I know, Winnie. I still love you, too. That's why I keep telling you, it's okay if you need to leave. It's okay if you want to move on...to whatever that is.\"\n\n\"No,\" said Winifred. \"I know you think this is painful for me, but it isn't. It really isn't. I want to see you through this.\"\n\n\"Through it?\" said David, struggling up to his feet. \"Through what? My life? Are you sticking around for the whole thing?\"\n\n\"Just until you find the right person,\" said Winifred. \"Someone who doesn't lie. Someone who believes in themselves enough to believe in you.\"\n\nDavid blinked, considering Winifred's pale, translucent face. \"Is that what happened to you? Did you not believe in yourself enough? Did you lie?\"\n\nWinifred said nothing. The two stared at one another for a long, long moment. \"I never lied about how I felt,\" said Winifred. \"Not about you.\"\n\n\"But you, Winnie,\" said David. \"Is that why you...?\"\n\nShe raised a hand. \"We'll find the right person for you. It wasn't me. But we'll find them. Then I'll go.\"\n\n\"Okay,\" said David. \"It's late. Time to go home.\"\n\nSo they walked, man and angel, slowly, unrushed, through purple city streets, saying nothing, accompanied only by the sound of a single pair of feet tapping along the pavement. ", " \"You know that shifty eyed guy behind the counter was full of shit when he told you they were out of everything bagels. Bagel Hut wouldn't just run out of one of the essential bagel flavors. Never trust a blond guy with a soul patch!\" Azrael was hovering just over my shoulder, inspecting my breakfast sandwich for any hint of a glint of metal. Recently he had become obsessed with the prospect of someone slipping a razor blade into my food. \"Look Azzie, I really don't think --\" \"What you're just going to let this guy get away with robbing you of bagel bliss?! Bullshit! You should at least slash his tires on your way back to the car. I'm just telling you for your own good. I am a guardian angel after all.\"\n \n I took a moment to finish chewing mouthful of pumpernickel while I thought about how absurd that statement was. \"Really, you're my guardian huh? So what do you think is going to happen if I go out and slash this guy's tires in broad daylight? He's twice my size. It seems more like you're trying to put me in the hospital. \n \n Azzie floated around in front of me apparently so I could get a good look at the incensed expression on his face. Although it was probably so he could stare down the pregnant lady in the booth behind me. \"You think I'm paranoid don't you? Just because I'm stuck down here on guard duty for god's current pet project and not off designing a nebula like my cousin Galadriel doesn't mean that I don't take pride in my work. When I tell you someone is lying to you it's because I'm looking out for your best interests. Remember when I told you Marisol was sleeping around and you ignored me? Lo' and behold you ended up walking in on her sucking off her English professor on the day you were going to propose! I know what I'm talking about here. Fuck that bagel stealing asshole's shit up before his shift ends and he goes home!\"\n \n He was getting really worked up at this point. Normally I would try to change the subject or remind him of some other time when he actually managed to do his job. Not today, I was just done. Sure having a friend who was a self professed lie detector had been great at first, but things had clearly taken a turn for the worse the last few weeks. It was time to stand up for myself. I slammed my paper coffee cup down on the table (which admittedly seemed a lot more threatening in my head) and let him have it.\"That's it I demand to talk to your supervisor! You've clearly lost it. Not only are you downright paranoid you are a horrible guardian! Sure you were right about Marisol, but you haven't caught anyone in a real lie in weeks. Just admit that you're out of your depth here and put in for a transfer. I can't handle you constantly whispering in my ear about how every single person is lying and out to get me!\"\n \n Just then, before Azzie could spit out another half baked conspiracy theory a shadow fell across our table. I looked up to see a familiar and face, one that wasn't particularly happy to see me. Mall security officer Will Darrow looked down at me with a scowl on his face. \"Sir, we've been through this several times now. I'm going to have to ask you to vacate the premises. You're disturbing the other customers.\" \n\n This was not shaping up to be a good day. \"Officer, I'm just sitting here talking to my friend.\" I said, motioning towards the still fuming angel floating in front of me. Officer Darrow grimaced and let out a sigh. \"Look I'm trying to take it easy on you, because you're clearly not well. You can't sit here screaming about assaulting food court employees for 20 minutes without attracting attention. Please just leave before I have to get the real cops involved.\" Sometimes I forget that no one else can see my sad excuse for a guardian angel. \n \n \"Fine, fine okay.\" I grunted, backing away towards the door to the parking lot with my hands up. \"I don't want any trouble.\" \"Good then we don't have a problem.\" Officer Darrow replied. \"Don't come back here, you're officially banned from the Mesa Verde Galleria. I'll be watching for you on the security cameras.\" As I turned around and walked towards the door, really about to just lay into Azzie for getting me banned from the only place with a decent Bagel Hut near my house I hear the guy with a soul patch talking to my least favorite mall cop.\n\n \"Hey Will thanks for taking care of that guy again. They don't pay you enough to deal with crazies like that. Here have our last everything bagel, on the house. I was saving it for myself, but you deserve it after what you just had to put up with.\" I hope that shifty eyed bastard made enough in tips to take the bus home because I definitely slashed his tires. \n", "First it was my parents, then my girlfriend, and now myself. According to my guardian angel, I am lying to myself. The things I always wanted, are no longer wanted, as they are useless to me if I have lied to about wanting them in the first place. I no longer want to go to work, which was enjoyable before I found out, but now it is just disappointing and unrewarding. Honestly, I don’t know what to do. My guardian angel might not even exist. She is telling me that I am, and have always been, lying to myself. As I stand next to the railing, thinking of all the mistakes I made, just because I didn’t know, I heard my angel again:\n\n“I cannot stop my mouth from telling lies, and I am very sorry.” Said my angel, “I have been telling you lies your whole life, and I am no more than a voice in your head. You have disowned everybody because of me, and I am so, so sorry.”\n\nThere had only been four messages from my angel. The first explaining who she was, the second explaining that my parents were lying to me, and the third telling me that my girlfriend has been cheating on me, and in the last message, she told me about how I had been lying to myself the whole time.\n\nSuddenly, it hit me. I had been so gullible. My angel had explained how she was under a curse to tell me the truth, and that she had been cursed by a god, and I believed her. I had disowned my parents, my girlfriend, and my entire life. I had thrown everything away, and burned all of my bridges, all because I believed a stupid voice inside of my head.\n\nAs my body impacted the ground under the bridge, my angel spoke to me once more;\n\n“Thank you for freeing me from my curse.”\n\nThen, as I was lying on the ground, I realized it; the angel had been real." ]	3
Could be fantasy, but I think it would be neat to see a sci-fi take on this.	[WP] As one of the children of the king, you alwayes knew one day you might be married off to strengthen diplomatic ties to allied nations. You just always expected to marry another human.	[ "I knew my old man would never forgive me. For years I have lived under the old mans all mighty rule, walking on eggshells, peaking around the corners. Always moving from one shadow to the next as silent as my toes would allow. For the past three years I have only wanted one thing, one thing I desire from this world, for my older brother to become the monarch of the family. For the hands that rule the kingdom we reside in currently to become that of my older brothers. A forgiving and overall a new start to my measly life. \n\nI'll never forget the night I was told of my future marriage, how my father sold me in revenge. With cold dark eyes staring, unforgiving, I eased on the side of caution as I picked at the food in front of me. The glare sharpened and the atmosphere darkened with each bite. The tension was about to break when all the sudden it changed. From night one moment to day the next, my father sat back with a smile, a rare moment in the last few years, all directed in my direction. \n\nMy brother and sisters, the servants, and even the damn dog pulled back in shock. The air was tight, my breath shortened and I waited in what had felt like an eternity of silence, broken only by the old mans white teeth as his smile grew, stretching from ear to ear. Reaching for something obscured by the tables decorations he sat down his silverware. \n\n\"Boy...\" he spoke softly, amusement dancing in his tone. \"The time has come for you to contribute to this family. You have freeloaded for long enough and as the second born son your future has always been shadowed by your older brother. I have given much thought to this and after some small consideration I have decided to arrange a marriage for you\". With the end of his small speech he reached for his goblet and frank, never taking his eyes off me. \n\nI was flooded with emotions. Anger at first, sadness, regret for never reconciling with him and then a small flash of hope. I was quick to conceal my smile. Maybe this was my chance to leave to some foreign country filled with adventure. To escape the old mans shadow would be a blessing in disguise. And a wife might not be a bad thing, all circumstances considered. I knew I had to play this right in not to seem over eager at the prosperity of escape. \n\nSetting my knife and fork down slowly, I appeared, genuinely, shocked. I took everything in and even stared at my brother who watched but did not reveal any emotions. I turned to my father and with a whisper, asked \"when?\". I knew my father well enough and the bastard played dirty. If he knew I was excited, if he thought that I would be happy, it would all fall apart and he would ensure a worse outcome for my future. \n\nWith a returning smile, he took another drink and locked eyes with me, \"Next week. The marriage will take place in the courtyard. Invitations have been sent to the four kingdoms and the tailor has already begun working on your wedding attire\". \n\n\"Next week\", I blurted, white knuckles grabbing the edges of my seat. \"Next week\" he replied. That was the last of our conversation that night. Small talk between my older brother and that of my younger sisters took place on the far side of the table with my father. I sat alone on my side. I wanted to ask questions but knew there was no point. Who, where, why, how's... none of it mattered. I knew that any further communication in regards to my now soon approaching wedding was irrelevant. His wish, his rule, his way. That's how its been for the last few years.\n\nThe following days were jam packed with activity. The kingdom in which we presided was in a flurry in preparations. The courtyard transformed from a garden to an event hall. Tents were erected. Decorations plastered. Everyone was excited and yet I still knew nothing of what was to come. I had dreams of a gorgeous woman in a far off land. I had worries of some dark and grotesque witch with body covered in warts, straight from the fairy tales we listened to as children. In the end I gave up. Anything would be better than the hell I had created for myself here, in my home. In a place that was once filled with laughter, love, and happiness was now a cage of misery.\n\nThe day of my wedding, I awoke to my father sitting in a plushy chair next to my rooms fireplace. He was deep in a book that I had left on the table. From the looks of it, he had been there for quite some time. I left him in peace for a few moments prior to making my presence known. Setting the book down, he turned to me. \n\n\"You've been a better sport than that of what I was expecting. I almost feel bad for not discussing with you in more detail, my plans\". \n\nHe was goading me into lashing out. I knew he was, and this I downplayed him to the best of my ability without angering him. \n\n\"Son, I look forward to this day. I will be standing as your right man in place of your brother. As my son it is my duty to ensure you have a prosperous future and as my blood, you are a reflection on myself, be ready by the mid day bells\". \n\nAnd with that he disappeared from my room. I shook my head, finished waking up and grabbed breakfast. The kitchen staff was in a flurry and I was quick to not distract them. Everyone appeared to be happy for me and I was just going through the motions. A puppet without strings, I did my fathers bidding by keeping silent and to the shadows, going along with his desires. \n\nThe last few hours of my being bachelor were not filled with adventure, drinks, friends or food. I had either none of that or very little. I sat in my favorite tree and watched as most of people all over the lands made their way to our castle. Made themselves comfortable and connected. I watched humans interact with all the races of the neighboring kingdoms. \n\nWhen the noon bells came, I made my way down the tree and to my room where I was met by a tailor. Washed, dressed and cleaned up I found my self in the gardens not too long after. I stood on the podium engulfed by flowers, banners and people. When my father made his appearance everyone stood and bowed. He stood behind me and with a confidence unmatched by others, the old man looked magnificent in his suit, like a work of art, framed and hung on the cobblestone walls within the great hall.\n\nWhile everyone was anxious to meet the soon to be bride, to know who it even was and which kingdom we were strengthening our ties to, my father stepped forward and whispered just loud enough for me to hear and no other. \n\n\"I want you to remember this day boy, for the rest of your days, today is the day you are married.The music begun to play, signaling the entrance of the bride. \"I also want you to remember how you wronged me. How you took and took and lied\". My heart sank with that. And I tried my best not to hang my head. \n\nI never expected what was to come. To have spent what little life I had experienced, my destiny was revealed to me. I saw her arm first as she swiveled around, coming from the far end of the garden. It didn't occur to me at first that what I was seeing was not what I had expected. \n\nHer face was hidden by a veil but her short stature and thick limbs gave her away. A small snout protruded from the veil, lifting it from her face, still hidden but the hint of two tusks. My mind was slower to put the pieces together than I would have liked. After a few seconds that stretched, I came to realize that my very soon to be wife was that of the Warg people. A bipedal species evolved from that of a Warthog. I was in disbelief and more importantly, I was embarrassed and humiliated as some laughs broke out. I stopped caring and turned to my father. \n\n\"you're a bastard\", I said with wet eyes, mustering as dark and soft a tone as I could \"I will not forgive you for all of eternity\". With that I turned, stood my ground and went through the motions. I hope that my words inflicted some damage on him, but I knew they wouldn't. Before she was on the podium, I heard him whisper, \"You took my prized Bertha, my prized pig and ate her, this is my revenge son\". \n\nAnd that was the last that we would talk. My old man's a bastard and he can keep his kingdom. I carried on for as long as I could. Come time to consummate I couldn't and thus I ran. Throwing my heritage to the winds I said \"Fuck it\", and abandoned my life, kingdom, family and Wife. To this day, my people have been at war with the Warg over my actions and while I feel bad and some what responsible. I also feel a freedom in being able to choose my own path as well as wife. \n\nIt took me years before I was able to stomach bacon, The warg people do not eat bacon, respectively so, and the thought of giving it up forever was something I just wasn't able to commit to. \n\n \n\n\n\n\n\n\n", "Once upon a time, there was a beautiful princess named Arona. She lived in a splendid castle of white stone atop a green mountain, and life was simple and happy for her. Arona spent her days playing with her brothers and sisters, as well as all the children of the servants who tended to her family. She had curious green eyes and an infectious laugh that seemed to reverberate throughout the castle, causing even the most serious guards to smile as they stood watch. She read what she wished, and her books made her yearn for adventure. She wanted to go beyond the castle walls and see everything: dragons and unicorns, swamps and fields of wildflowers! That's what she wanted to be when she grew up; she wanted to be an explorer, like the ones in her stories. And secretly, she just knew she would meet her prince out there. They would save a village together, or discover a new forest. They would fall in love, and live happily ever after.\n\nBut as she grew older, the complexities of royal life slowly unfolded, revealing the darker, uglier aspects of being the Princess of a powerful kingdom - powerful not only by strength of arms, but of political prestige.\n\nKing Arahan ruled on Erthos, a small but rich planet on the very edge of the human-centric Pegasus system, a cosmic stone's throw away from Triyeda cluster - a region of the Milky Way controlled by the quadrupedal Shaga. And thus, his kingdom was quickly designated as a liason society between the two species. \n\nEver since first contact in 2267 CE, the Shaga and human races have enjoyed an unusual peace with each other. They bonded over shared their carbon-based and water-fueled biochemistry, allowing for relatively easy visiting and social exploration. However, they say that familiarity breeds contempt, and this old, banal saying seemed to hold some truth here. As both races continued to expand their reach across the galaxy, hungry for the same general resources, friction began to develop. Though war still seemed unlikely, skirmishes were becoming far too common, and heightened tensions between the two, particularly at the borders of controlled space.\n\nKing Arahan was a wise and old ruler; rejuvenated every decade by fresh blood and tissue created in his personal laboratories, he had experienced contact with the Shaga from the very beginning. He knew that though there were a great many differences between them and humans, the similarities were much more important: they both needed the same life-sustaining forces, and they were both very ambitious, ultimately selfish species. He predicted the conflict to arise within a century; he was only off by a few years. He knew it was time to enact his plan.\n\n\"I cannot believe this, Father,\" Princess Arona cried out, smashing a delicate wine-glass to the floor. The King winced at the sound. \"I always knew that I one day might be forced to marry some man, to further your political agenda. But a Shaga? This is completely ludicrous.\"\n\n\"My dear,\" the King said softly, \"it is for the good of our kingdom, and potentially of the human race.\"\n\n\"How?\" she fired back. \"What benefit does this give anyone? And why do you think the Shaga would agree to such a proposition, anyway? The very idea of marriage is alien to them.\"\n\n\"I have spoken to Vancer Karrus,\" he replied. Karrus was the Shagan equivalent of Arahan - the beloved leader for the liason society that represented the Shaga in this region of space. \"He was the one to suggest it.\"\n\nArona growled in frustration and sat heavily down upon her bed. Her world was crumbling about her, and she just wanted to keep lashing out in anger. But it was a pointless exercise; raw anger never moved her father. Only calm discourse did. She closed her eyes and began to breathe purposefully and evenly. \n\n\"My daughter,\" the king spoke, \"I do not wish to push you into this arrangement, so let me make this clear: you have a choice. If you truly do not wish to make this sacrifice, I will endeavor to find another way.\"\n\nArona did not answer, but only opened her eyes and watched the king.\n\nHe cleared his throat. \"I spoke with Karrus in a private meeting designed to highlight points of tension between our societies, and how they may be resolved. To my surprise, I found him to be extremely knowledgeable of human history, and he then suggested this union. 'It will help us understand one another,' he explained. 'It shall be an experiment, the first of its kind - human and shaga, living together. If two individual aliens can learn to tolerate one another, why not their entire races?' \n\nI was taken back by the suggestion, and was not entirely convinced by this argument. However, I was more shocked when he insisted that it must be you. 'Why Arona? Why not any of her brothers and sisters?' I remember asking. And his reply was interesting, and gave me a window into the Shaga psyche: 'Arona is most beloved of your children,' he responded. 'It would be a sacrifice for you to part with her, and an even greater sacrifice on her part - for she is giving away all that she held familiar for the sake of uniting two major societies. And if there is anything we Shagans admire above all else, it is sacrifice.'\"\n\nThe King paused in his narrative for a moment. \"You are correct, of course: they do not marry. But this union would be so much more - it would be a partnership where you and Relaux learn from each other, in a way no human or Shagan has ever had the opportunity to.\"\n\n\"Relaux?\" she asked, confused. Relaux was a Shagan with whom she was good friends with - they enjoyed discussing matters both political and cheerfully mundane together. \"He is not related to Karrus, as far as I know; in fact, he has no ties to Shagan royalty at all.\"\n\nThe king smiled. \"Their society places little weight on such ties, Arona. Relaux is well-liked by Karrus and his community; he is an intelligent individual with unorthodox, intriguing ideas. And considering that you two are already companions, I thought it would be easier on you.\"\n\n\"Right,\" she said, mouth a thin line. She was much calmer now, but her head was still buzzing angrily with a million thoughts. \"Do I have some time to think about...all this?\"\n\nThe king stood up. \"Of course, Arona. I will return.\" As he left, the Princess sank into her sheets, thinking hard.\n\n\n_______________\n\n\nLiked that? More stories [here](https://www.reddit.com/r/Idreamofdragons/)!" ]	2
	[WP] After death, society is separated based off of their belief system.	[ "Every religious person believes their path is the correct path. That only their school of thought is righteous, and only those who share their path will find eternal peace in the afterlife. The funniest thing is, they're right. Every single one of them. My colleagues and I have the distinct pleasure of being among the first faces the newly deceased see. We're pretty much the concierge service of the Afterlife outposts. Confused? Let me explain in a little more detail.\n\nWhen someone dies, as long as their soul is able to accept their death, they are guided to the nearest Afterlife outpost. There are thousands of outposts located across the globe. It's here, between the lands of the living and dead, where souls are sorted by faith, to their (mostly) final destinations. Registration staff meet with each soul individually and get their basic information. Things like their name, last country of residence, place and cause of death (if known), and religion. Registration staff can be a bit off putting, usually leaving the soul upset, with at least half a dozen questions they want to ask (usually all at once). That's where we come in. \n\nWe swoop in, once registration leaves, to explain their options, answer their questions, provide any needed counseling, and prepare them for the rest of their journey. Some accept our answers readily and depart for their afterlife with haste. Others don't. It's a lot to process, and it doesn't always happen quickly or smoothly. It's for that reason that a soul is permitted to stay at the outpost for as long as necessary. Some even stay long enough to wait for another soul (usually that of a loved one), unwilling to risk eternal separation should thay chose a different option. \n\nYou see, even if a soul spent their life as a devout Christian, they aren't actually required to spend their afterlife in Heaven or Hell. They could choose reincarnation, petition to be permitted entrance to another faith's afterlife (which can take quite a while), or choose to join the Afterlife staff. That last one doesn't have to be an eternal position either. Some chose to work for a few hundred years before retiring to their preferred afterlife. In some cases, you can even find a fulfilling job in the afterlife as well. \n\nSo you see, every religion is right to an extent. At least when it comes to how they spend their afterlife. \n\n-----------\nWritten on the mobile app.\nFeedback welcome!\nMay continue onto how atheists are handled if anyone is interested.\n" ]	1
	[WP] You, as an immortal, have the ability to share your immorality with one other being. You now have to explain to someone close to you why you chose your cat.	[ "\"What do you mean?! You don't make the rules. Fine, I get that. But... I... how... why not me?\"\n\nJohn sipped his coffee from where he sat in the breakfast room. How to put this?\n\n\"Because you're you. And no matter what happens, happened, or will happen between us I will always love you.\" John said finally. He forced himself to look up at his big sister.\n\nThe two of them where in his apartment, he'd called her over to explain things. Growing up, they hadn't always gotten along, but with mom and dad dead they were all each other had. \n\nSarah look at her brother not understanding. She tried to, she really did. But this... how could he not choose her.\n\n\"Before you yell at me, please listen. I will never die. I was given this, not as a gift, but as a curse. I put a gun in my mouth and pulled the trigger. That 'thing' out there did this to me as punishment. I have to share this with someone, if I don't I was told something bad would happen.\" \n\nSarah reached her hand across the table, taking her little brother's and squeezing it. \"You never told me... why would you do that?\" she asked in a whisper.\n\n\"Why I tried to kill myself. I don't know... I just wanted it to end. The dead end job, this apartment, I was drunk and I've always had depression.\" John said blankly. He wished he could feel upset about anything, but he had forgotten how.\n\n\"Is it because of Maria? I know that she left you and-\" Sarah began. \n\nShe always has to do that. Always to 'fix' things and find out how it broke. But not this time, not ever again John thought.\n\n\"No. Maria is better off without me. Now, the ultimate cosmic joke. The first immortal is suicidal.\" John said laughing harshly, no warmth in his lips as they curled. \n\n\"But... but why not-\" Sarah began.\n\nJohn took his sister's hand and she stopped talking.\n\n\"Because you're you. You're not like me. You have Nate, and he makes you happy. You have a baby on the way, you have a house. I was always the fuck up in the family. I'm stuck like this forever. I have to watch as you and your family grow old. I have to stay while you leave. Everything I love will turn to dust. You deserve a happy life, an end with Nate and your kids.\"\n\nSarah took that in and wiped her tears.\n\n\"Okay. Okay\" John's sister said breathing softly.\n\nJohn nodded. He was never good at this shit, he wasn't good with people, but Sarah was his sister.\n\n\"But why the cat?\" Sarah asked managing a small smile.\n\nJohn grinned saying \"breaking the chain. That 'thing' wanted me to pass the curse onto someone else. But by choosing Mr. Whiskers, I stop 'it' and doom no one else.\"\n\n...\n\n184 years later\n\nJohn strode the old graveyard with a whistle. Normally he was drunk, living so long without doing much made him a bit of a drinker, not much else to do with so much time. But not today, not this day.\n\nHe walked with a cat in the folds of his rain coat, carrying Mr. Whiskers with his free hand. Neither of them had aged a day in all this time.\n\nComing across the graves he was looking for, John knelt down.\n\n\"Happy birthday sis\" John said.\n\nMr Whiskers meowed and John pet the little bastard saying \"I know buddy, I miss her too.\"\n\nHis faithful cat purred at his touch. John turned back to his sister's grave, long since died, and smiled sadly.\n\n\"I've been watching over your great grand kids. They're doing great, you and Nate would have been proud of them. They run some big computer company, a family business now. There's some big jobs in computers now. Most jobs are in computers these days.\" John said.\n\nEven worse for a low life like me, I don't know anything about computers and now they took all the jobs he thought. \n\n\"Well, I'll see you around sis.\" John said getting to his feet, Mr Whiskers in hand. Together, the two immortals strode out into the night air. Together they had walked this earth for almost two hundred years. And man and cat would probably walk it for much longer.", "\"A cat\"\n\n\"yep\"\n\n\"you had the option to make anyone immortal\"\n\n\"yes\"\n\n\"and you chose a mother fucking cat\"\n\n\"it's an orange tabby.\"\n\nSteve rested his face in his hands. Tim and Steve started carpooling to work together 8 months and 22 days before the Thursday that this conversation took place.\n\n\"You realize what you could've done Tim?\"\n\n\"uh-\"\n\n\"You could've chosen some... doctor or something and they could've.. dedicated their existence to curing cancer or some shit.\"\n\n\"Sounds boring\"\n\n\"yeah well of course it is to you, the universe chooses one man to be immortal and it chooses a man at the top of the bell curve.\"\n\n\"Yeah well you can't live this long without being at the top of something\"\n\nSteve stood up. They sat together in Tim's small flat, freshly bought and still in the process of accepting it's new accessory furniture.\n\n\"A fucking cat\" Steve grumbled as he rubbed his eyes.\n\n\"What's wrong with that?\"\n\n\"Everything Tim. Everything.\"\n\n\"Well I don't care about cancer Steve, you realize that I've watched everyone die around me for a while now. Why should I stop what's inevitably going to happen?\"\n\n\"You could save someone's poor soul a few more years with the people they love and somehow that is not worth it to you?\"\n\n\"Nah\"\n\n\"And what's worth to you Tim? What defines your existance?\"\n\n\"Frank\"\n\n\"Who?\n\n\"Frank.\"\n\n\"Saying the name again doesn't help me Tim\"\n\n\"He's my cat\"\n\n\"You named your undying cat Frank\"\n\n\"Well I was eating a hot dog at the time and-\n\n\"I don't. fucking care. about the name.\" Steve took a deep breath.\n\n\"I don't get why you're angry it doesn't affect you.\"\n\n\"What about love Tim?\"\n\n\"never much cared for it\"\n\n\"Yes you do you called Cindy a bitch after she broke up with you and then you set her house on fire.\"\n\n\"Well she is a bitch\"\n\n\"True\"\n\n\"And Mum told me to be truthful\"\n\n\"As did mine\"\n\n\"So I set her house on fire \"\n\n\"Those ideals have nothing to do with each other Tim.\"\n\n\"True\"\n\nThere was a silence. \n\nThe air conditioning shut off making it even more of a silence.\n\n\"You know what I don't care anymore Tim you can be a god or whatever and just hangout with your fucking cat for all eternity I don't care.\"\n\n\"Ok\"\n\n\"Goodnight Tim\"\n\n\"Bye Steve.\"", "WP] You, as an immortal, have the ability to share your - immorality - with one other being. You now have to explain to someone close to you why you chose your cat.\n\n[EU - Highlander]\nDuncan MacLeod stood there shaking at the top of the mountain. His final quickening dying down after beheading his last foe. The last immortal in the world, and now he was going to finally take possession of \"the prize\" that he had been fighting and beheading other immortals to achieve. \"With their head, came their power\", his cousin Connor MacLeod had told him during his training. Many had thought that the prize was the ability to have children, but alas, it was not. It was to convey an aspect of your soul to another. \n\nDuncan's heart weighed so heavily after all those he had lost. The taking of heads had been a necessity, but now that the game was over, it would grow to gnaw at him deep inside. His morals had been completely compromised. He didn't know if he could live with himself any longer if he had to maintain those feelings of loss and anger without the constant fight to stay alive to keep him going. \n\nWho could he transfer this burden to? His heart was heavy. He saw an injured cat at the side of a road. He thought he could pass his immorality to this cat, it would not be long for this world, and then pass away. He bent down and transferred his immorality to the cat. The cat, though had just been knocked out and with the sudden surge slashed Duncan on the hand and ran into a thick set of nearby bushes. \n\nThe cat then proceeded over the next years to kill every bird, rabbit, fish, mouse or other creature he could get his hands on. He mounted every queen in heat that he could get his paws around. He would rake his claws over anything that remotely looked like anybody would want it. Cars, flowers, doors, papers, decorations...anything he found. One day, after many years later of having his way and just being a general ass, he was on his deathbed. He was lying on a cushion on someone's porch that he'd clawed the stuffing out of. A little boy who lived there saw him and reached out to stroke the dying animal... and he got bit and clawed for it. He went crying into the house. His parents came back out as the boy pointed and howled. \n\nThe cat wanted to, but he just didn't have enough gas in the tank left to bite or claw them all, so he just rolled over on his back, coughed up one last hairball and with his dying breath squeezed out a steaming turd on their wicker chair. That cat died as the son of a bitch he'd lived as.\n\nEpilogue:\nBecause of his actions, the lack of genetic diversity in the Seacouver feline population was to remain in that area for the next 75 years. Meanwhile, Duncan lived his life happily ever after dealing antiques at his store and keeping buff down at the dojo.", "\"Listen, Chris, last time I gave a loved one immortality, he spent five hundred and seventy four years on an elaborate plot to take over the world. You may have heard of him: His name was Julius Caesar. Do you know how hard it is to arrange the assassination of a power-mad emperor, even when you have all the time in the world to do it? I don't want to babysit you mortals, but if I make a mess, I'll have to spend a few hundred years cleaning it up. Scruffles won't try to take over the world, so as far as I'm concerned, he's morally superior to every single one of you. Besides, in the grand scheme of things, our twenty five years of marriage aren't really much more than a one night stand. I love you, and I truly cherish every moment I spend with you, but believe me, humans just aren't designed to put up with each other for more than about eighty years.\"", "I run my fingers along the shimmering gold band circling my neck. After 2 weeks, I’m still not used to the glowing halo-like circlet floating above my collarbone. Its soft warmth is comforting though.\n\nMy study door squeaks open, and a familiar face pops around the corner. “Hi...” says Jim shyly.\n\n“Jimmmmmmy!!” I call, bounding toward him. “How’s my favorite brother?”\n\nThrough my tight hug, he mutters “Your only brother, you mean? I’m fine...”\n\nI lean back and smile. “I guess you wanted to see it, huh?” I lift the golden band gently so he can get a good look.\n\n“Wow!” he admires. “It certainly is shiny... Congrats, little sis. You really deserve this honor.”\n\nI roll my eyes.\n\n“No, seriously! I know you think you’re just another ‘joe shmoe’, but you really have big dreams and creativity and an entrepreneurial spirit. Immortality will suit you well.”\n\n“Well gosh,” I fan my face dramatically, “coming from Mr. Neurosurgeon himself, that’s quite the compliment!”\n\nI smile at him warmly, and he shifts uncomfortably.\n\n“Yeah, so...” he tugs at his sleeve cuff distractedly. “I know you have this decision to make...”\n\nMy smile freezes on my face, and I catch my breath.\n\n“It’s just,” he continues, the words rushing out now, “I know you can pick one person to join you in immortality, and I just thought... I mean... I know people usually reserve it for a lover... but love ends right? Heartbreak, and all that... and we’ve always worked so well together as a team... I just thought, I mean... if you could just consider it maybe... for me to join you?”\n\nHis face flushes as he avoids meeting my eyes. I realize my mouth is hanging open, and I snap it shut.\n\n“Oh, uhmm... Jimmy, that’s...” I stutter. “I mean, of course I would love having you by my side forever! It’s just that... I already... picked another.”\n\nMy face now matches his flush, and his head jerks up to look at me. “You did?! But who... I mean, not that it’s any of my business... you and John broke up months ago, I didn’t think...”\n\n“Not John.” I run my fingers through my hair. “Look, it’s not something that needs to be talked about right now...”\n\nA small mewling comes from the doorway, and tiny paws pad across the floor. Sir Wigglebottom jumps onto the desk next to me, purring.\n\n“Hi Wiggles!” I smile and scratch behind his ear affectionately.\n\nJim’s mouth hangs open, his eyes wide in shock. I follow his gaze... the glowing circlet around Sir Wigglebottom’s neck.\n\nI blush furiously. “Oh, ermm... so...”\n\n“Oh. My God.” Jim looks at me, his eyes raging between shock, anger, curiosity, disbelief... “Please, Luna, tell me... for the love of god... that you did not grant your CAT immortality!”\n\n“Jim, come on...” I beg. “You once said that this face” (I frame the fuzzy gray face delicately in my hands) “could lift hearts and change the world!”\n\nJim takes a step back. “Yeah, EVERYONE says that about cats. Cats are adorable! But what significant contribution will he really make with his immortality? More than a dedicated world leader, or a genius mathematician, or a world-renowned artist, or... or a skilled neurosurgeon?!”\n\nI square my jaw, now defensive. “Look, every person needs a companion by their side in life.. and like you said, lovers can be fickle, relationships come and go. Even siblings can argue and set their goals in different places. But the love of a furry companion is pure and enduring... so full of innocence and joy.”\n\nJim and I look at each other stolidly, as if now a thick layer of glass separates us. Sir Wigglebottom hacks up a hairball on the desk, and Jim’s fists shake, clenched by his sides.\n\n“Well. All the happiness to you and your life partner, Luna,” he spits at me and storms out, slamming the door.", "I sat across from her, my whiskey glass resting on the arm of the squat leather chair. I could feel the last sip I took burning its way slowly down to my stomach as I stared into her eyes.\n\n\"I'm sorry,\" she said. \"I just don't believe you. It's as simple as that.\"\n\nA small smile touched my lips, and I raised the glass to them again. After I swallowed, I leaned forward and set the glass down on the table between us.\n\n\"I know you don't,\" I said back to her. \"And honestly, I don't expect you to. It's not an easy thing for a mind to grasp. But I can assure you, I've had this exact conversation with more than a dozen other people in as many centuries.\"\n\nI watched the doubt flare back up into her eyes, knowing that simple words were futile. I honestly don't know why I still felt the need to be completely honest with people - in all the time I'd lived and all the people to whom I'd revealed the truth, it had never ended well. I couldn't blame someone for reacting poorly. Finding out that a close friend of yours was immortal was not an easy thing to reconcile, no matter what proof you were shown.\n\n\"Well, can you prove it? You can't just tell me you're a 4,000 year old immortal and expect me to believe you without some proof.\" She said, looking just the slightest bit indignant.\n\n\"Yes, I can prove it to you. But, before I even attempt that, I have to know something. What will you do if I convince you?\"\n\n\"I...well, I don't know. I've never thought about something like that before.\" She stared into my eyes, and I could see a hint of fear behind the anger she held at being confronted with such an obvious ruse. \"I mean, it would change things...\"\n\n\"Would it? Would it change the time we've spent together? Would it make a difference so large in the grand scheme of things? Have we not enjoyed the last ten years we've spent with each other?\" I asked her, pushing the glass slightly further away with an index finger.\n\n\"No...I mean, other than the fact that you've been lying to me the entire time.\" She said as she thought back to all the things I'd told her about my past. Of course she was right; they'd all been fabrications. It's not as if I could open with the truth.\n\n\"I understand your frustration. But do you still love me? Could you still love me, in light of this revelation?\" I asked her.\n\n\"Is that what this is about?\" She pressed, leaning forward in her chair - a twin to my own - and resting her elbows on her knees. \"Are you just trying to test my love? You know I love you. We're married, for fuck's sake.\" She was getting truly angry now, wanting this game to end.\n\nWith a sigh, I stood and walked over to the antique wooden desk which stood against the wall behind the sitting area. From the desktop I took a letter opener. I crossed the space and sat down again.\n\n\"What's that for?\" She asked, incredulous.\n\n\"You wanted proof. I offer you...proof.\" As I said the last word, I raised the letter opener high above my head and brought it down with all my force against my right leg. She gasped and lurched forward, trying to stop me from gravely injuring myself. She stopped as short as the blade of the letter opener, which pierced the cloth of my suit pants and bent at an odd angle when it came in contact with my flesh. If she'd looked incredulous before, she looked purely shocked now.\n\n\"What? How...what?\" was all she could muster.\n\n\"I told you...it's the truth. I am immortal. I cannot be harmed. This is who I truly am.\" I said, looking at her across the divide between our chairs. Though it was mere feet, my action had stretched that distance into a gulf, the size of which could only be challenged by the chasm of time I'd passed through. I was revealed to her now; naked in a sense much more pure than any with which mere flesh could hope to compete.\n\nWe sat in silence for a time. She couldn't think of anything to say. Finally, looking up from the floor and meeting my eyes, she said simply, \"Tell me. Tell me everything. I want to know.\"\n\nI picked the glass back up from the table and took a long pull, setting it back down empty. Swirling the liquid in my mouth, I leaned back into my chair and swallowed. At last, I began.\n\nI told her of my birth, so long ago that the memory was almost intangible. It was difficult to recall that first span; what I considered to be my mortal life. I'd grown into a man with my peers as we hunted and gathered, scraping an existence out in a world no one understood. I'd known that I was somehow different when my friends and brothers began to show signs of their age and I remained young and strong.\n\nFinally they had died, long after those carefree days together, and long after they'd come to think of me as an evil spirit sent to ruin them. I'd been cast out anyway by then, and never knew of the exact circumstances in which they'd died. That first year after they'd sent me away had been the hardest; learning to accept that I was different and learning how to find my way in a world which seemed to exist on a different time scale.\n\nThe decades flew by. I'd stumbled my way into more civilized areas of the world and had been forced into indentured servitude until I learned the language of my masters. It had taken many years, as none of them had any interest in teaching me. I'd slowly bettered myself though; learning patience was the most important lesson I'd be forced into. While school children learned to read in mere years, I did the same in decades. Eventually I'd been literate for so long that everyone who knew me as a servant was either dead or elderly, and I was able to leave and start over somewhere else. \n\nI'd witnessed wars. I'd witnessed death. I fell in love and watched that love dwindle and die as surely as that object of my desire had done. This happened many times; more than I could count. I'd lived through a period where I refused to subject myself to love, knowing that it could only end in tragedy for me. I'd been a rich man, a poor man, a politician, a beggar, and everything in between. I learned to avoid being too well known after certain identities, knowing that people would remember my face.\n\nEach time I became close to someone, I felt something. It got stronger each time. I felt my own love and caring growing inside of me even as the person who I'd invested it in grew old and died. I felt it build and build until I knew it was a force greater than mere love. After hundreds of years of loving and losing; falling and being fallen for; I realized what it was. I could extend my love into a physical form and share my gift. I knew that I could make another like me. \n\nWhen I realized this about myself, I recoiled from humanity. I spent the entirety of the 18th century in complete solitude; eating nothing, drinking nothing, and speaking to no one. I contemplated the meaning of this and searched within myself to discover more about this feeling. Could I actually do this, or was I descending into madness after having lived for thousands of years?\n\nBut it wasn't madness. I knew this to be true. I knew that I could do this if I chose to. My love for life had grown so true and pure that I could bestow the same immortality I possessed on another. I could choose someone to spend eternity with.\n\nShe looked intently at me, stopping me there. \"What are you saying? Are you telling me this because you...are choosing me?\"\n\nA tear rolled down my cheek. I stared back into her green eyes, the depths of which made my heart ache across the centuries of time and remember each set of eyes I'd gazed into with the pure love that I felt now.\n\n\"No.\" I said simply.\n\nI'd realized something as I searched within myself. Though I loved living and thought of my gift as just that, I could not know how another would react to it. Was the love I'd felt for all of those I'd spent a lifetime with truly capable of withstanding an eternity? Or was it more likely that love is so powerful because, like all life, it is meant to eventually die?\n\nPerhaps love exists as strongly in our world as it does because it is ephemeral. Would it be possible to feel and endless amount of affection for someone, for an endless amount of time? Or did we fall deeply into that abyss of emotion simply because somewhere inside of us we knew it couldn't last forever?\n\nIf I bestowed my gift on another, wouldn't it be more likely that we would eventually grow tired of each other? I thought so. Love, I'd realized, was beautiful and pure because it was the opposite of me...it was not eternal.\n\n\"No, I'm sorry. It hurts me deeply to know that our love will inevitably die and I will yet live on. But I would rather feel it as it is now, experiencing it for this short period of time in the raw, pure form we share, than stretch it out until it broke under its own weight.\"\n\n\"No, I did not choose someone to spend eternity with, because there could be no crueler fate. Instead, I bestowed the gift of eternal life upon a companion I shared a different kind of bond with.\"\n\nAt that beckoning, Samuel came into the room. He was a beautiful Tabby with startlingly blue eyes. Around his neck he wore a coin I'd picked up sometime during the fall of Rome. He jumped onto my lap and purred softly, staring across the room at her. Tears glistened in her eyes, and she was unable to speak.\n\n\"I want to share the world with you. I want to enjoy the time we have together and live each of these days as if it is our last.\" I said to her, hoping to see the same love in her eyes I'd seen a decade ago.", "\"You are what?!\" Jane stood upright and slammed her palms on the table. She could not believe what George was all about. She was aware of the drugs George was taking. She was aware of all of them, to be fair. George tried quitting once, but it wasn't as easy as he thought it would be. His weekly attendance in meetings didn't help much, but surely, when you have lifetimes ahead of you, you ought to try things out. \n\nJane wasn't sure whether to believe the rubbish George had disclosed. She thought it was all about the drugs, but it was something a bit more. George was immortal, and was given a chance to choose another being to share the long, and lonely eternity with.\n\n\"I am, yes,\" George nodded in agreement. \"I am choosing Mr. Ginger,\" he pursed his lips.\n\nJane was helpless. She could not find the right words. She wanted to scoff at the idea, to laugh at how hilarious it was, to cry because he chose a goddamn cat over her. \n\n\"I know what you're thinking.\"\n\n\"George, I-\" Jane sat down, trying to calm her nerves. She was about to burst and explode, but she knew better. \"Why- Why Mr. Ginger?\"\n\n\"I knew if I chose you, you wouldn't like it. You'd have to bear with me for millions of years to come. You'd have no choice of companion. You'd want to use drugs like I do, because, well, we can't die. Ultimately, you'd see your family die. I don't want you to go through all of that.\"\n\n\"So you choose our cat?\" she whispered in disbelief, and a hint of understanding.\n\n\"Yes, I choose Mr. Ginger. He can sleep all eternity, for all I care.\"\n\nThe couple went silent for a few minutes, and Jane let out a sigh as she stared at Mr. Ginger, who apparently, in the midst of the heated discussion, was licking its butt." ]	7
	[WP] You're a door to door salesman. You knock on the door and only after you see a black sign with orange letters that says "Beware of Doug". At first you believe it to be a simple typo, until a man answers the door and says, "HI, I'm Douglas. Can I help you?"	[ "\"Hi, I'm Douglas. Can I help you?\"\n\nJeff sold door to door life insurance. Jeff is normal and boring and there is nothing more to say about him. Because of this; Jeff's character is much more connected to the reader. This creates dramatic tension. Now hush about Jeff.\n\nHowever, Douglas, Douglas is a fine piece of fiction writing. With an IQ of exactly 100 Doug believes that he is in the \"100th percentile of the smartest people of the planet Earth.\"\n\n\"Uh yeah I just,\" Jeff panicked as he usually does when an abnormal person answers the door. \"One sec\"\n\nDouglas was abnormal to Jeff because Douglas appeared to be happy to see a man selling life insurance. Jeff had no idea why.\n\n\"Are you interested in buying security for your loved ones after you die?\" Asked Jeff.\n\nDouglas was giddy, \"I'm so gonna screw this moron over\" he thought to himself\n\n\"Uh yeah, I am completely compelled by the overwhelming sense of compulsion to buy security, but only at a low price of course you cant screw me into over paying for insurance that's for sure\" Douglas laughed to himself, \"Got em\" He thought.\n\nJeff, realized that sign was intentional.\n\nJeff connected the dots.\n\n\"So here what we sell is insurance obviously. And how it works is-\n\n\"Shut up don't patronize me meager sales man I can think for myself.\" \"The ball is in my court and your my bitch now Jeff\" \"How much do you wanna sell?\n\n\"A lot\" Jeff thought.\n\n\"Oh just a little bit it's valuable merchandise that's gotta circulate otherwise one person gets it all.\"\n\n\"HE DOESNT WANT TO SELL IT ALL\" Doug saw an oppurtunity that a commercial with Warren Buffet once talked about. \"I SHOULD BUY IT ALL\"\n\n\"I'll... buy it all\" smirked Doug.\n\n\"Oh ok\" said Jeff, he had practiced his deadpan.\n\nJeff realized Doug was legitimate soon after his \"oh ok\".\n\nThey did paperwork. Doug being a healthy, sane, \"normal\" white male in his 30's could buy any amount that he wanted. \n\nDoug bought 10,000,000$ in life insurance. 95% percent of that was on loan from the bank. \n\nJeff after spending 30 minutes in Doug's neighborhood realized that Doug was probably going to die. Several unread death threats lie at Doug's feet as he went through the final bill.\n\n\"You sure get a lot of those.\"\n\n\"You don't?\" I'm pretty sure it's just the Governments weird spam to get me to trust the police.\n\n\"....yeahh... yeah that makes sense.\" Jeff was going to tank his companies margins considerably. \n\n\"Alright all done!\" \"Thanks idiot\"\n\nJeff shorted his company the following day.\n\nDoug was stabbed in the throat that afternoon while telling the a stranger about his cross fit routine.\n" ]	1
	[WP] It has always been said that when you first see your true love, time will stop. One day as you are watching the morning news, you see the photograph of a young woman who had been murdered the night before. In that instant, time stops.....and then it travels backwards.	[ "Hey guys, this is my first time trying something like this and english is not my native tongue, so dont be too hard on me. But good critique is always welcome. Hope you guys like it. \n&nbsp; \n_____________________________________________________________ \nRain. The sound of rain. It pours down. The whole street is empty. Beside the rain, absolute silence. klick I light up my cigarete while im at a remote bus station. \n-Damn, im gonna get soaking wet. \nWhile im thinking that, i decide to wait there untill the rain stops. Its not like im in a hurry. Im gonna need some time to heal from that disastrous party anyway. Claire started her drama act again. In the end half the party got dragged into her ego-trip. Thank god nobody saw me leaving. \n-Poor Steve, sleeping on the couch is still not far enough from Claire. \nloud screech \nI tense up imediately as i hear breaks from a car screeching. As im looking where it came from, my instinct tells me to go low profile. I zip my jacket to cover up my white T-shirt, leave the bus-station and hide in the shadows behind a tree near the station. Still not able to see anything, i throw the cigarete away. \nA loud metalic sound suddenly breaks the silence again.\"what the hell is that\", i think. \nSuddenly a black BMW with darkened windows speeds through the street. Just as fast as it came, it also vanished as fast. \n-I need to get out of here. \nWith that last thought, i take my leave and enter a dark alley. Not thinking about the rain anymore, i vanished into the night. Thank god i know these streets better than the back of my hand... \n&nbsp; \nAs im laying down, i can see the light comming through the cracks of my door throught the living room window. \n-Awww, my head hurts. \nI throw in an aspirin and chulk it down with some 3day old juice. \n-That was a hell of a party \nAs i recall claires mental breakdown, an image pops up in my head. \n-These teenagers sure as hell floored that BMW. \nI laugh at my panicked self from yesterday. I should drink less, anyway im gonna go get some coffee. I make my way through the street to my favourite shop, i stop to take a peek at the frontpages of some popular newspapers in town. \n\"Dead girl found last night. Police officer says, hes never seen such a brutal murder\" \n-The world is getting crazier every d... \n-What the hell!!! \nAs i grabed a copy, i saw that this happened in the neighborhood, near Winstons house where the party was yesterday. \n&nbsp; \n The girl was found dead near Ketchum Street, Police still couldnt identify the Victim. The only lead she had in her purse was a foto of herself, she was not carrying any ID. \n&nbsp; \nI turn around the page, tense and nervous to read more as i see the picture of the murdered lady. My gaze just stoped there. My nervousness vanished. Time stood still. Not a single sound could be heard. Cars stoped moving, people frozen mid-movement. A dog with a wide open mouth, ready to bark. The cashier still holding my coins in his hand. It was exactly 11:42 A.M. My clock stoped working. But i still could not take my eyes off that girl. \n-This was not supposed to happen. \nWhat did i just say? I dont even know that girl. As i think of that my vision gets blurry. I hear a scream. \n-Oh? i can hear again? \n-LOOK OUT!!! \nAs i registered that female voice i look around but time is still standing. People still frozen. \n-Who said that? whats happening? \nWhile i search for the woman who yelled, a yellow flash apears. I close my eyes for a second and suddenly, time starts moving again. That instant i see a truck at arms lenght in front of me. I flinch, throw my hands in front of my face and close my eyes. \n-SHIT IM GONNA DIE! \n&nbsp; \n&nbsp; \n&nbsp; \n................... \n-F#CK YOU MARIE. You are trying to seduce my Steve again??? And whats with you?? Flirting with that wh#re. \n-Claire calm down honey, you are drunk. \n-You know that me and Steve know each other for 30 years, i have no such intention of seducing him. \n-Stop with these lies you succubus. Paul? You saw her too right? She deffinetly hit on Steve. \n-Oh god Paul tell her she is just drunk. \n-...... (\"Whats happening here?\") \n-Paul?? Whats up buddy? \n-...... \n-Paul sweetheart? Are you alright? \nSlow motion. Im confused. What the hell is happening? Why do i know the outcome of this fight? As i inspect my suroundings, i see the clock. Its 11:42 PM. \n-I need to... \n-Tom, what do you ne... \n\nBefore he can finish his question i start running to the door and vanish into the night.... \n&nbsp; \n&nbsp; \nI need to safe Jennifer... \n\n", "I lay on the couch, with a bowl of cereal resting on my chest. I went through my morning routine. I turned the TV on and began scanning through each channel for a split second, not actually watching what was on but rather just doing it because it was a habit. I stopped on the news as something caught my eye. A picture of a beautiful pale skinned brunette was displayed on the right side of the screen, on the left was her name, \"Josephine Flynn\" she was murdered last night, stabbed to death in a hospital. I heard a scratching noise behind me, I launched up, throwing the cereal bowl across the room. Behind me was a pitch black cat with bright yellow almost amber eyes. It stared me dead in the eyes and meowed. Nothing happened. I was expecting a shockwave, maybe Mr. Grim (the Reaper) to show up with his scythe and boney hands, but nothing happened. I turned around and that's when I saw it. My cereal bowl was frozen mid-air, I could make out individual particles of milk. I sighed and turned around to stare directly at the 'cat'.\n\n\"So, you're Death? Aren't you meant to be somewhat humanoid, with a scythe, flowing robes, boney hands? You know. All that stereotypical shit?\" the cats tilted its head at me and simply meowed. Again nothing happened. Though it felt like something should be.\n\n\"That's how it's gonna be is it, gonna play innocent? Fine.\" I bent down and picked the cat up by the scruff. I carried him to my door, opened it and threw him into the hallway. \"Stay out!\" I went back to my lounge room and began to, (I don't know...it's not technically picking it up if it's floating) I cleaned up the spilt bowl of cereal. As I dumped the bowl and its contents in the sink I heard a meow from behind me. Spinning around I saw the same cat I'd just thrown into the hall, sitting patiently behind me. Its yellow eyes appeared more like pieces of amber than before. \"Didn't I throw you out of my place?\" I poked the cat in the forehead, it shook its head at me and calmly licked its paw. I hate cats. Arrogant bastards. The cat opened its mouth to meow.\n\n\"I am not arrogant.\" A deep booming voice echoed forth from the cat's mouth.\n\n\"AH HAH!\" I exclaimed loudly. \"I fucking knew you were Death!\" The cat looked at me with a bored expression.\n\n\"I'm not Death, fool. I'm Death's cat. I handle anything that doesn't require reaping.\" He said this as if it was completely normal.\n\n\"So. What do you want with me? Mr Deaths Cat.\" His eyes fixed on mine. \n\n\"Did you pay attention to the news? The dead girl. Josephine Flynn.\" It felt like he was talking down to me. Like I was a toddler.\n\n\"You are a toddler to me, mortal. I am far, far older than you shall ever be. Now, I need you to fix the situation with Josephine Flynn. She's not meant to be dead and I don't have the time to fix it. So you'll do it for me.\" He turned and sauntered away from me. I followed closely behind.\n\n\"You can read my mind? Why can't you fix it yourself? What's it got to do with me? Why didn't you say so in the first place? How do I fix it? What do I get if I fix it?\" The questions spewed out of my mouth so fast I'm surprised I didn't bite my tongue off.\n\n\"Yes, I can. Because I'm busy. Everything. You didn't ask. Easily, I'm going to send you back in time and you merely speak to her. That'll fix it. You get your soul mate.\" He answered all of my questions without missing a beat. Never once did he falter while walking. We reached the only window in my apartment. He jumped up onto the ledge and looked back at me. \n\n\"Now, it's time for you to go.\" \n\nHow do I.. before I could even finish thinking the thought he answered. \"You jump. Once you hit the ground, it'll be tomorrow morning. Don't bother going to work, just quit. Go to the hospital at exactly 5:32pm and speak with her. She'll be on the 4th-floor visiting her friend. Good luck.\" \n\nBefore I knew it, he'd managed to push me out the window. How a cat managed this, I don't know. I guess it's better not to question it. It is Deaths Cat after all. I had enough time to look down, see the pavement and scream. I jerked awake on the couch, the bowl of cereal previously resting on my chest flying off and smashing into my TV. My alarm clock read \"10:10am\" I still had time to have a shower, get dressed and get down to the hospital. I quickly showered, dressed in jeans, a plain black tee, tugged on my work boots and rocketed out the door. I know I still had ages, but it would take an hour minimum to get there by public transport and I wanted to be real early just in case.\n\nI reached the hospital at 12:27pm and sat down the lobby. I put my earbuds in and zoned out. At 2pm a nurse poked me awake to ask me if I was okay. \"Yeah, I'm fine. Just waiting for someone. Thanks.\" Putting my earbuds back in I zoned out once again until my alarm went off at 5pm. Standing up I stretched and made my way to the 4th floor. Deaths Cat never told me where on the floor she was, just that she was here somewhere. So I went searching. At 5:30pm I saw her at the far end of the hall. I don't know why, but I started to run towards her. I was about 4metres from her when I tripped over my shoelaces, I'd forgotten to tie them before leaving home. I'd just face planted directly in front of her. \n\n\"Holy shit! Are you okay, sir?\" She knelt next to me and poked me in the side of the head. I laughed so hard I thought I'd cough up a lung. \"Who pokes someone in the head after they've just face planted?\" I managed to gasp out between laughs. \"I do.\" I could hear the smile in her voice. \n\nShe helped me to my feet and brushed me off. \"My names Josephine, my friends call me Jo.\"\n\nI smiled at her. \"Nice to meet you, Jo. I'm Harley.\"", "It was two years ago, or maybe tomorrow, I suppose it depends how you look at it. I was sitting in my apartment, eating a bowl of cereal in my boxers. The news was on like it was every morning. A report came on about the recent epidemic of violent muggings in the city. There on the screen was a college graduation picture \"Erica Adler, was killed last night in one of the recent mug...\" The sound was out the picture frozen on my screen. \"AHEM\"\n\nI whipped around to see him. Tall, dark robe, scythe, the whole bit, it was death in my apartment. Beside him, the girl of my dreams. Short dark hair, those adorable glasses. If it weren't for her distracting me I probably would have had to burn those boxers.\n\n\"Oh God, Oh God. I'm dead aren't I? Was it a gas leak? At least tell me it got the landlord too.\"\n\n\"RELAX. YOUR NOT DEAD. SHE'S DEAD.\" He hooked a bony thumb at the girl beside him. \"SHE'S BEEN DEAD SINCE LAST NIGHT, OR TWO YEARS FROM NOW. DEPENDS ON YOUR POINT OF VIEW. PROBLEM IS, SHE'S NOT SUPPOSED TO BE DEAD YET. IF I DON'T FIX IT SHE FOLLOWS ME AROUND FOREVER. IT'S ALL VERY COMPLICATED AND ANNOYING.\"\n\n\"So why are you here? Why can I see you?\"\n\n\"LOOK, I DON'T USUALLY LIKE TO INTERFERE LIKE THIS. I'M GOING TO SEND YOU TWO YEARS INTO THE PAST. GET A CUP OF COFFEE ON THE WAY TO WORK. TRUST ME. THIS WILL FIX BOTH OUR PROBLEMS.\"\n\nThen it went black...I woke to the alarm. I stumbled out of bed, showered, grabbed my cereal and switched on the news. Sure enough the date was two years before yesterdays. \n\nI decided maybe I should listen to that weird dream. On the way to my dead end bagging job I stopped at the little coffee house down the street. \"Just a cup of regular coffee, black.\" \n\nI turned around and there she was. The same girl. Erica. My heart missed a beat. She had on a backpack that looked ridiculous on her tiny frame. Loaded with books. I'll never forget that blue shirt. It was just plain blue t-shirt but on her it looked amazing. She looked up at me and smiled the brightest smile I had ever seen. \n\nWe started talking, here about nursing school, me, well I mainly just listened. I offered to help her get her books to her car. She let me. When her car wouldn't start I took a look and did some little roadside repair. I've always been good with my hands. She gave me her number. \n\nI walked into my job and Chad started hollering at me for being late. It wasn't worth it. I wasn't going to relive two years at this job again. I quit.\n\nI called Erica up to see if she wanted to grab some coffee the next day. We met at the same place. She mentioned her father looking for apprentices at his garage. She said she would put in a good word for me. Six months later her father promoted me from apprentice to mechanic. Three months after that he nearly dropped the camera when I dropped to my knee and help up the ring to his daughter while he was snapping graduation photos. Another four months and she and I were married. \n\nYeah this time around these two years had been amazing. \n\nWe went out to celebrate her promotion. \n\nI didn't think about the date.\n\nThe mugger rounded the corner. \n\nIt was all I could do to get between her and him. \n\nI lay there bleeding on the cold concrete. \n\nAs she knelt over me I felt the pressure of her hands. \n\nI saw the tears stream down her cheeks. \n\nI smiled. \n\nIt had been the best two years of my life.\n\nThe world went dark. \n\nThere he was again. Death. \n\n\"Is, is Erica all right?\"\n\n\"SHE'S FINE\"\n\n\"I suppose by fixing things I took her place?\"\n\n\"NO. YOUR MARRIED TO A TRAUMA NURSE. SHE'S TENDING YOU RIGHT NOW WHILE WAITING FOR AN AMBULANCE. YOUR GOING TO WAKE UP COUGH BLOOD ALL OVER YOURSELF AND THE AMBULANCE AND PASS BACK OUT. BUT YOU'LL SURVIVE.\"\n\n\"Then why are you here?\"\n\n\"WELL YOU KNOW YOU WERE IN THE NEIGHBORHOOD. I THOUGHT I WOULD POP IN AND THANK YOU FOR SORTING THIS MESS OUT.\"" ]	3
	[WP] A character continually attempts to make their cliche heroic self-sacrifice but — much to their frustration — always ends up surviving, however inexplicably.	[ "He was walking with a demon's pace through down the sidewalk of 6th and Beatrice toward the capitol building, a crackling voice sounds through a makeshift speaker device.\n\n\"One suspect, One hostage. He is armed, tread with extreme caution.\"\n\nHis pace quickened somehow as he turned the corner to see a single gunman with his weapon poised in front of a woman, about eight feet away. A small bastion of two police cruisers, doors swung ajar with two officers nervously trying to access the situation further with the loud wailing of sirens in the distance.\n\nA grin made it's way across his face as he broke into a sprint. Smiling the entire way as his feet carried him deftly up the marble steps of the capitol.\nHe was surely quick enough to reach the gunman before he had time to fire, but his motives were much more selfish than simply saving another life. No, see... He was a hero. Not the cape and cavalry sort but the kind in Nike's and a windbreaker. Always there to save the day. \n\nBut that was just it. He was only there, never involved. Inexplicably, his presence was always known but never needed. Not today.\n\nGaining speed, he loped up the steps to meet the attacker. Leaping through the air with enough force from a single bounding step, he spun around to jam the heel of his nylon shoe directly into the cheekbone of the gunman. His body was sent reeling and tumbling down the steps. Taking a moment to compose himself at the fall, gun still in hand, he raised it with a shaking grip and took aim at the hero.\n\nThe hero shrugged one arm out of his windbreaker and threw it onto the woman in one motion as if to shield her and her turned his attention to the barrel of the gun now pointed with intention at his own heart. He braced himself, still smiling.\n\nA shot rang out from the gun of the assailant and two more soon after from the weapons of nearby officers. A loud thud was a bullet entered flesh and another smaller thud was flesh landed against the stoop of the building.\n\nHe opened his eyes and looked down, smile disappearing completely. \n\n\"God damn it!\"\n\nHe clutched in his hands, the twitching soon-to-be corpse of a pigeon whose life force was slowly draining through his fingertips from a bullet wound that had blown open and collapsed the rib cage of the innocent avian.\n\nTurning behind him, he caught the gaze of a woman who moments before was about to meet her fate by way of a plated hallow-point straight through the heart. Her eyes were wide with unspeakable worry as tears streamed down over and into her time-worn face.\n\n\"Not again, ugh.\" He grabbed his jacket from the trembling woman and galloped down the steps passed a few bewildered officers and disappeared into the crowd.\n\n\"One day.\"\n\n\n\n", "Neville stood silently as he faced the Dark Lord. The air was calm as the movement of Dumbledore's Army had ceased and the chaos of the Death Eaters was at a pause. Every person around him was quietly looking at Hagrid as he carried Harry's bent body. The crowd was split evenly in two emotions; there was sadness in the hearts behind him, and pleasure in those ahead of him. He looked down at Godric's sword with a scowl. It was not fair. Why did it have to be Harry?\n\nIt all started in their first year. Neville knew what happened to his parents, and he knew that he would end up in an asylum room next to them if he didn't die first. So he chose his own fate. His fate would be to die a hero while saving someone else. One day he overheard the Harry Gang talking about going after the Philosopher's Stone. This was his chance, he would stop them, or die trying. He was a smart, albeit young and naive, wizard. They would not get past him without killing him, and he would be known as the wizard that died trying to save the great Harry Potter from going into danger. As the night grew dark, he waited. Finally, they arrived and he announced himself with as much courage as he could muster. Unfortunately, he discovered that the Granger girl was an even smarter wizard than he. That was his first folly.\n\nHe kept trying, every year he would find a way to try and save someone while sacrificing himself, and every year he failed. Now, in the greatest battle of their lives, Harry had taken the opportunity from him. Harry had died. Died! Trying to save them! They all knew it, and they all loved him for it. Even though He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named still lived. Neville was torn. He should feel bad. He should be sad about Harry's death. All he felt was anger. This was supposed to be his day. Seven years of torture and anguish had led to this.\n\nNeville looked up from the sword after what felt like hours. He saw the smirk spreading across the Dark Lord's face. This man, this creature, would now be their lord. Unless Neville had something to say about it. He still had a chance, he could still die. Nagini looked at him. Straight into his eyes, he was being taunted. She could feel the cold sweat of fear dripping off him and hitting the ground. She could smell his idiocy gaining strength throughout his body. She readied for him. Neville was finally going to die. Few ever made it close to Nagini. They would usually be executed before they had the chance. Those that did had the displeasure of meeting her hands and, if they were lucky, dying before being eaten.\n\nNeville looked down at the floor where Godric's sword laid, silently glistening when the sun caught it through the dark clouds. He ran forward, snatching it by the hilt. The Dark Lord and his entire army were too busy celebrating. They didn't notice, they didn't have time. Neville reached Nagini and swung as she reached out for him. He closed his eyes, readying himself for his final sacrifice. He felt blood across his face and smiled as the end... Wait, the end didn't come.\n\nNeville opened his eyes and looked down to see Naginis lifeless body on the ground. He had survived again. He was still alive. Again. Behind him, Dumbledore's Army began to cheer. They were revitalized by his actions. Maybe he wasn't meant to die. He smiled as he turned to the crowd so that he could revel in their cheers for him. Until he noticed the true reason they were cheering. Neville survived his ultimate self-sacrifice only to be one-upped by Harry Potter once again." ]	2
	[WP] Scientists have discovered that roughly 50% of the human population are infected by a parasite that slightly affects the human brain. They start to wonder how it changed history.	[ "Our recent findings have shown that, throughout history, many people have been infected by a very small and hidden brain parasite. It latches on to the brain at the Amygdala after maybe months of careful navigating around the brain. These parasites feed off of the neurotransmitters that transmit emotions, but one chemical nourishes it the most.\n\nSerotonin keeps a person’s anger under control. The more the serotonin, the more calm a person will be. This parasite primarily feeds on serotonin, lowering the concentrations in the brain, leading to a more angry and irritable person.\n\nIt may be possible that such people as Adolf Hitler, Vladimir Lenin, and maybe even Caligula were victim to this parasite.\n\nIt is very hard to diagnose because at the moment of death, the parasite immediately begins to navigate back out of the brain to another part of the body. The reproductive stage requires that the parasite lay eggs to be eaten by large scavengers active in decomposition.\n\nThis parasite is likely to never be found in any other area than the Amygdala and the brain’s primary emotional centers. This creature can only feed on such chemicals.\n\nIt is possible that this parasite evolved alongside humanity as we spread across the earth. Humans are one of the only creatures capable of producing ample amounts of neurotransmitters to keep both the parasite and the host reasonably inconspicuous.\n\nIt is, as of yet, unknown how this parasite infects people. It may be by food or by water. It is even possible that the parasite is able to enter the body during development in the womb.\n\nIf we find a way to kill this parasite, it may be possible to mostly wipe evil out of the world. And that is a very, very impressive feat.\n\nThat is why we are submitting this formal request to receive more funding to explore this interesting creature and its effects." ]	1
Scientists have discovered a planet, called Proxima B, orbiting the closest star to our sun – a red dwarf known as Proxima Centauri, which lies 4.2 light years away. What’s more, there are clues that it could, potentially, have some similarities to Earth. But its orbit around its sun is 11.2 Earth days, and its distance is only 4.5 miles from that sun. Although it's a much weaker sun, there's still a great deal of radiation and solar flares that impact Proxima B. Your story can be about the formation of this planet, what life is like on it, its discovery by colonizing humans in the future, whatever you want.	[WP] Tell a story about Proxima B.	[ "We are the Proxima B colony. We were always told to never leave the domes. Maintenance on the domes was always from the inside. I have never seen the Earth, but my parents did. My generation is supposedly the only hope for humanity with the 10+ billion people on Earth. I always longed to see the Earth, or even the beautiful sun we orbited. \n\nJANUARY 14, 2056 @ 14:00\n\nOn my 9th Birthday, I asked my parents if I could finally leave the domes, they told me it was too dangerous. I asked if I could see the Earth outside the dome with them. They told me it was beautiful but that did not matter as I would be very important to the growth of humanity. No one would ever tell me why I couldn't leave the dome or see Earth with my telescope outside. This would make me very outraged. \n\nJANUARY 14, 2065 @ 23:00\n\nI was finally 18 years old. I was now a legal adult according to the laws of the Proxima B colony. I walked up to my mother and father, asking them once again if I could leave the dome just like I asked every year since I was nine. This time they didn't say no. They said in a sarcastic matter, \"Well, if you want to see the sky, why don't you just get people to support your cause?\". I got outraged and walked away. That was the last time I ever saw them.\n\nJANUARY 31, 2069 @ 13:56\n\nI embarked on my journey outside of my dome. I had to collect resources over the course of 4 years. I had to make numerous connections and build up support for my cause.\n\nI entered the tunnel leading to the entrance vault with a GoPro attached to my helmet. I opened the hatch and closed it really quick to prevent radiation from seeping in. \n\nI rode my shiny grey Rover out into the great beyond that is the rest of my home planet. I could see all the stars of the Milky Way. I used my telescope and I could see Earth. It was so beautiful.\n\nI then decided to make a decision that would change my life forever. I removed my helmet and space suit and I immediately went unconscious. \n\nFEBRUARY 2, 2069 @ 16:35\n\nI woke up in an unfamiliar place. I opened my eyes and I could not see through one eye. I looked down in a rushed and terrified manner and noticed that are or my limbs were missing. The doctor was apparently standing next to me and started talking. He explained, \"I am so sorry that this happened to you. When you went unconscious, you were exposed to radiation throughout your body. You developed so many tumors that your legs, arms, and your left eye.\" \n\nJANUARY 17, 2070 @ 19:00\n\nI finally finished going through rehab with my prosthetic limbs. I even got a bionic eye. Most people question the decisions I made and the thoughts I had but, it was worth it. It was worth it because in the end, even though I lost all of my limbs and my eye, I still got to see Proxima Centauri and, even better, the Earth. \n\nEDIT: First prompt. Please be nice.\n\nEDIT 2: Narrator now has more motivation." ]	1
It comes with a 30 day trial just like Netflix.	[WP] Death is now something people can buy. You have to advertise it.	[ "Are you tired of eternity? Have you gone through a dozen spouses already and are starting to realize even wonderful things like love are wonderful only because they don't last? \n\nHere at Peace Atlast we can solve all of your problems in one quick blast of the head!\n\nDid your deuche of a great great great great grandchild finally grow up, only to give birth to a bigger deuche? Are you tired of being told an AI program could do your job better for less than fraction of your cost? Well, we understand you're only wasting time on your assigned shitty job because it's illegal to continue existing without paying taxes.\n\nSo hop on down to Peace Atlast and let us sort out all your problems for you! For the lowely price of your lifesavings plus future expected revenue divided by interest over time you can finally start thinking about a retirement plan!\n\nYou know what Ghandi and Abraham Lincoln and Nelson Mandela all have in common? They didn't live long enough to fuck up their accomplishments.\n\nSo come on down to Peace Atlast. \nLet us help you get your life sorted." ]	1
	[WP] An alien transmission is made public to earthers, however, we don't want to respond right away for lack of seeming desperate.	[ "\"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!\", President Barack Obama squealed. \"You will never guess who just texted me!\" \n\"Who, Mr.President?\", sighed Joe, unexcited. This happened at least once a week and almost always the answer was 'Kendrick Laymar' or some other African name. \"Okay so you're not going to believe this but... Extraterrestrial beings!\" Obama clapped his hands together, he was so excited. \"Wait a moment sir. What do you mean 'extraterrestrial beings'\"? Obama looked at Joe disappointed, but then perked up as he realized an explanation would let him talk more. \"Okay so like, you know how we're on Earth? That would make us terrestrial beings but these guys like totally aren't on earth you know? So they're like, EXTRAterrestrial beings. I understand if it's too hard for you to grasp Joe.\" Joe took a moment to breathe so he wouldn't being punching Obama in the jaw as he asked \"But how do you know they're extraterrestrial beings?\" \"Wait you really didn't understand the last explanation?\", Obama asked concerned. \"Jesus fuck- alright look Barack you need to answer these beings! They could be the otherworldly contact that our world has been searching for for millennia!\" Obama pursed his lips and avoided Joe's gaze. \"What is it Mr. President?\", Joe looked strangely at Obama. \"It's just... What you said... We've been searching for these guys for millennia. And now you want to reply right away? You don't think that comes off as clingy?\" Joe looked around for anyone else who had just witnessed the President asking if responding to aliens made him clingy, but it was just the two of them. \"What in the fuck? No it doesn't make you clingy, they reached out to you, just respond!\" Obama huffed and said \"Okay listen. Before I bagged Michelle, by the way, thanks again God, I was trying to do the nasty with this girl Katie. She was really hot, but when I texted her asking if she wanted to come over and fuck me senseless, she responded way too fast and it really turned me off. I mean, she said no so it wasn't too big of a deal, but at that point it's like do I even want to anymore? You know what I mean? So maybe these Aliens are like me and I'm Katie. We don't want to turn them off from years of possible intergalactic cooperation.\" Joe was very close to joining the Lee Harvey Oswald club. Slowly, he forced out, \"Sir, if you don't respond soon they may lose interest or we may lose the signal. \" Obama mulled this over, and then finally accepted his defeat. \"Okay, okay just tell me what to say bitch!\" Joe flicked Obama in the temple and then suggested, \"Just tell them a/s/l but like intergalactic. So like, 200,000 years for our species, Human is what we call ourselves, and Earth is where we're located.\" Obama smiled and said, \"Okay sounds good.\" But no sooner had he typed the message than a look of worry washed over his face. \"Fuck Joe. What emojis should I use?\"" ]	1
	[WP] "Who the hell are you supposed to be?" "I'm Doc Brown and this is Marty McFly" "Alright, well I'm Rick Sanchez and this is my grandson Morty..."	[ "Marty came to a halt and glanced at his watch - 11:38 PM. Not too bad - with any luck he’d be home within the hour, with his parents none the wiser. The wind shifted and pushed against his stubbornly unzipped windbreaker. Stuffing his board in the crook of his arm, he shoved his hands into the recesses of his pockets and trudged forward. He briefly considered whether this was something he wanted to be doing in the first place. \n\nMarty McFly was never one to turn chicken from anything. He’d heard all of the warnings. All of the slander and cautionary tales. He’d seen the antics that “the crazy old man” would get up to around town. His entire 9th grade class was in fearful awe of him. \n\nDoug Needles, that power hungry little jock, had the gall to claim that he’d stepped up to the plate and gone toe-to-toe with the mad scientist. His claim to fame was ding-dong-ditching the unkempt house that they’d all been so thoroughly warned away from. Before Marty could stop to think, he found himself balking at Needles’ claim. Needles, beet red at having been called out in front of his newfound admirers, angrily turned the accusation around on Marty. \n\n“You know, McFly, for someone with a lot to say it seems like you’ve got some free time to get out there and get some proof yourself. Why don’t you show us all what you’ve got, chicken?” \n\nIt was that taunt echoing in his mind that strengthened his commitment. He wasn’t going to let that lying twerp get the better of him in front of the class. Especially in front of Jennifer. Placing his board back onto the pavement, he mounted it and pushed onward, emboldened in his purpose. \n\nHe’d been waiting all week for Friday night - his band practice was cancelled this week, and it seemed simple enough not to relay that change of plans to his folks. The breeze felt biting as he skated through the empty residential streets, a sense of excitement and dread at the prospect building up in the pit of his stomach.\n\nHe ground his skateboard to a halt behind the Doc’s house, leaned it against the wall, and heaved himself up over the concrete barrier. He shuffled quietly toward the back door, glancing around nervously for any potential witnesses or contraptions. He fruitlessly jiggled the locked doorknob and briefly considered calling it quits. Pushing the traitorous thought from his mind, he glanced around for another way to sneak in. The glint of the key under the doormat mocked him for his inattention. “Typical”, he whispered to himself with a shake of his head. He unlocked the door, carefully opened it, and snuck inside.\n\nIt was dark. The smell of dust and absentminded negligence permeated the air. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness of the foyer he began to make out the almost intentional disarray of the place. But it was the sounds that completed the illusion - clocks, ticking away in every direction made him feel like he was in an old, abandoned clock tower. He ignored the involuntary chill that crept down his spine, and started making his way into the room, nervously eyeing the scorch-marked walls before his eyes came to rest on a treasure trove.\n\nHe made his way over to the work-bench to his left. Piled high with broken and moving pieces, the bulk of the noise seemed to emanate from the dangerous tools casually strewn across it’s surface. He thought he could see broken clocks below the bench as he walked, fragments of moonlight illuminating them here and there. As he felt his way along the bench, his left hand pushed down on something, and he yelped at the noise it made - sort of like a mumbled speak-and-spell - and stared at the newly-lit object he’d just activated.\n\nIt looked like a white neon letter Y, inside a glass enclosure, with its lights consisting of beads constantly traveling towards its center. Transfixed, Marty picked it up - and immediately regretted it.\n\nThe room burst with green glow. Heart racing, Marty’s first thought was “Of COURSE it was booby-trapped! Indiana Jones would’ve known better!” He spun around, wildly, searching for his escape route. There was a sharp noise, sudden pain, and then darkness.\n\n\n\n“OOOOOOooooooh no! Oh no Rick! L-l-l-l-l-look what you did to poor Marty!”\n\nRick Sanchez stared at the lifeless body in front of him, gun still instinctively pointed, a lazy understanding dawning on him.\n\n“Trust me, Morty, I’ve seen what happens to him and his acting career - he’d thank me.” He let out a large belch as he put his gun away, taking in his surroundings with the usual, nonchalant disregard he had towards the consequences of his own actions. “Anyway, I’m sure he’s fine.”\n\nMorty bent over Rick’s poor, undoubtedly, lifeless victim, his arms shaking as he pulled him to lie on his back.\n\n“Rick! H-h-h-h-he’s NOT! You shot him in the chest!”\n\n“He deserves it for Doc Hollywood.”\n\n“No he doesn’t! He’s not an actor, Rick, he’s REAL!”\n\n“Ok ok ok fine Morty, I’ll see what I can do. Sheesh!” Rick reached into his yellow-stained lab coat and pulled out a flask. He took a swig, Morty glaring at him to get on with it. Rolling his eyes, he once again reached into his coat and pulled out a large syringe gun with a strange, glowing glass reservoir.\n\nAs Rick injected the lifeless Marty in the chest, draining the reservoir with a pull of the trigger, Marty’s gaping chest wound began to shrink, healing as if by a miracle. Marty’s chest started heaving up and down, as Morty gave a sigh of relief.\n\n“Glad I brought this stuff so we could waste it on a C-lister”, Rick spewed through teeth gritted with agitation. Suddenly, they saw police lights flashing through the windows.\n\n“Oh shit, Morty! Somebody called the cops! We gotta split! Grab the fluxawhathingie and let’s get outta here!”\n\nMorty looked at where Rick was pointing, next to Marty. Already in a heightened state of panic, he started hyperventilating heavily at the sight.\n\n“It-it-it-it’s broken, Rick! There’s glass everywhere!”\n\n\n“Shit! Morty, get back in the portal! Let’s go, let’s go, let’s gooooooo!”\n\nThe angry sirens of police vehicles closed in on the abode, blaring over the many clocks still ticking away in the now otherwise-silent room. Marty lay still, his chest rising and falling into his blood-stained shirt, as the sirens became deafening, and the clocks started simultaneously ringing midnight.", "Rick leans over to Doc Brown, and whispers: \"He evens out my brainwaves.\" Doc Brown nods agreeingly. \n\n\"Aww geez Rick, I think I know these guys.\" \n\nMarty meanwhile walks around in a daze of confusement and amazement (\"Whoa\") of his sudden new surroundings. Doc Brown frantically looking at all the unknown technology around him. \n\nMorty continues: \"You remember that one time, we were watching tv. That movie about timetravel from that channel we like? You know?\"\n\nDoc Brown immediately jumps up, \"What? Timetravel?\" But gets cut off.\n\n\"Way to be burp specific Morty. But yeah, why'd ya think they're here? Huh? They just materialize out of nothing?\"\n\nMorty is looking blankly at Rick. Marty's attention also now diverting to the speaking voice. \n\n\"... No half burp/half word MOOOorty. They materialize out of stuff like carbon, water, and some cans of Uncle Bens I had lying around.\"\n\nMarty looks shocked, Doc Brown nods agreeingly.\n\n\"Why didn't you just bring them with the portalgun?\" Morty asks Rick. \n\n\"I don't know, MOR-TY. Why do YOU leave your jizzrags in the same drawer you keep your night-braces?\"\n\n\"WHAT?\"\n\n\"Because I'm a fucking burp SCIENTIST, Morty!\"\n\n\"That makes NO sense!\"\n\n\"Wait, did you just say you know us from a movie? So... Wait. Our existence is a lie? And I'm also famous?\" Marty exclaims, still confused. But before Rick, or Morty can answer, a bright green flash occurs and a silhouette of a man appears on the floor of the garage. As the smoke clears, we recognize the figure as Biff.\n\n\"Well, that came out of nowhere.\" Rick remarks unimpressed.\n\nBiff stands up and rubs his eyes. \n\n\"What the hell have you buttheads done now?!\"\n\nRick turns to Doc and Marty and asks: \"Friends of yours?\" They both shake their heads.\n\nRick shoots Biff with lasers.\n\n\"AH! LASERS! I HATE... LASERS!\"\n\n-----\n\nRick, Morty, Doc and Marty are walking through the living room towards the television.\n\n\"So, now that we've got the pleasantries out of the burp way, let me show you what you guys really are,\" Rick says while grabbing the remote and landing on the comfortable chair. \"Let me just find the burp channel real quick.\"\n\nDoc and Marty sit on the couch, Doc takes an especially large amount of space, being seemingly tired. \n\n\"Sure, yeah, you know that's fine,\" Morty softly mutters whilst sitting on the floor. \"You'd better sit down comfortable for this I guess\"\n\n\"I think we recorded it, wait. MISTER POOPY.. burp BUTTHOLE!\" Rick yells across the house.\n\nJerry enters the room, as if being beckoned by the sound of potential non-loneliness. \n\n\"Whoa, you recorded it without a VCR?\" Marty says, sitting upfront on the couch, now looking even more amazed than before. \n\nRick and Morty look at each other for a moment, smiling. They look back towards the tv, Rick takes a sip of his liqour: \"Oh man, this is gonna be great.\"\n\n\"Heyyyy guyyyss... Whatcha doing, watching new friends with your television? -- no wait.\" Jerry says with his trademark confidence.\n\n\"Hi dad.\" \n\nTaking another sip of his liquor, Rick mutters \"Maybe not.\"\n\nDoc Brown jumps up reinvigorated and starts shaking Jerry's hand firmly: \"Hello, Doctor Emmett Brown Ph.D, how very nice to meet you!\" \n\n\"Ohh, well. How very nice to meet you to sir. Urhm, Doctor.\" Jerry gains confidence as he thinks he recognizes the warm embrace of a possible fellow friend-seeker/social outcast. He worms himself between Marty and Doc Brown on the couch. He looks next to him and sees Marty. He starts looking suspicious, as an inner monologue starts.\n\n\"Hmm, I've seen this guy before...\" An old photo flashes in Jerry's mind, it's of a young Beth dancing at promnight, with a different guy. Who looks a tiny bit like Marty.\n\n\"It's... Harry, HARRY DIMBLEDER!\"\n\n\"Awh, SCHNUCKS! Got it!\" Rick yells, \"Time to half burp/half word FUUUuck with your MINDSSss-ah\" Rick takes another sip and clicks the remote.\n\n----- \n\nMarty and Doc Brown sit slack-jawed and motionless on the couch, no more Jerry in between them. We hear 'The Power of Love', the movie is over. \n\n\"Why... Why did you show this to us?\" Doc Brown mutters.\n\n\"Well, you know, I just thought. You ought to know the truth, right Morty?\" Rick explains. \"Also, that movie is fucking burp GRReaat. And, I wanted to see if I could get you guys here, you know.\"\n\n\"Yeah, we're like fans, you know. Your entire channel is pretty sweet. Lots of- pretty sweet.. movies.\" Morty says, but stops when he notices it doesn't help Doc or Marty get any more cheerfull. They seem downright depressed right now. \n\nWe see Jerry's head sticking out of the kitchen, envious eyes fixed on 'Harry'. \"Time-travelers eh? I knew it. And he did this thing before? With his OWN mother?? I fucking knew it!\" he angrily talks in himself as he pounds his fist in his other hand. He turns to the kitchen as his face turns sad. \"sigh I guess I had it coming... My dear Beth. OOooh.\"\n\nStill focused on Jerry, we hear Marty ask in the background \"So, a lot of chicks will know me here right?\" Annoyed, and fueled, Jerry turns to sneakily peek around the kitchen corner again. \"But I will not give up without a proper fight.\" Close-up to angry eyes with a smidge of perseverance. \"Harry... Dimbleder.\"\n\nBack to the feature, Rick and Morty now feel kind of bad and have decided to cheer Doc and Marty up. \n\n\"Come on, oldtimer, I'll show you what I've got cooking in my kitchen. If you burp know what I mean...\" Rick beckons to Doc Brown. Who hesitantly stands up, the curiosity for gizmos larger than his newfound reason for severe depression.\n \n\"Hey man, Morty. Think you can show me around the neighborhood? You know, for fun\" Marty asks after Rick and Doc Brown left the room. \n\nMorty sighs and rolls his eyes \"Geez, I guess. But people won't recognize you, you know. You're not famous, that's another dimension\"\n\nMarty looks down. \"Ugh, come on\" Morty says while pulling Marty off the couch. \n\nAs they walk out of the room, a set of suspicious eyes follows them from the kitchen...\n\n-----\n\nDoc Brown's face is lighting up with joy as we see him shooting different kind of weapons at the carcass of Biff. \n\n\"Here, try this one,\" Rick hands Doc an old double-barreled shotgun. \"Wait, lemme do this first\" He lights the front of the shotgun, as if it were the igniter for a flamethrower. Rick puts on safety-goggles. \"Allright buuurp You're good to burp go.\"\n\nDoc Brown aims the device at the beaten up and by now unnaturally coloured corpse, and fires. Out the left barrel comes a green-ish goo that quite immediately starts decomposing Biff's miserable remains. The goo becomes clear as it mixes with the organic tissue and eventually forms a solid block of creamish color. \n\nDoc Brown stands astonished as Rick smilingly gives him a little pad on the shoulder, as if to give him the go-ahead for the last blow. Doc Brown looks at the weapon and sees a red button at the side.\n\n\"Ah, now I see!\" He proclaims as he pushes the button. \n\nOut the right barrel comes a bright blue flame that lids and melts the top of the milky structure formerly known as Biff. In the midst of the fiery event, we see Jerry accidentally walk in to the garage, but quickly stumbles back. Quick close-up of his face that seemingly just now had an idea: \"Hmm.\" \n\nDoc enthusiastically continues until Rick stops him. \n\n\"Hey, uh, sorry to stop your happy-moment and all, but uh, here,\" Rick hands Doc Brown a drinking-straw of sorts.\n\n\"What on earth do I do with this apparatus?\"\n\n\"You drink with it, dipshit\"\n\nDoc Brown sticks his straw in the flaming reservoir on top of the creamy monolith and drinks.\n\n\"Hey! Hmm.. That tastes familiar. But I can't quite place it.\" Doc ponders out loud. \"Was it 1998, or maybe 2010? Hmm\"\n\n\"I call it the double barreled burp * B-52 flaming shotgun, I made it for some crazy mineworkers who needed to get rid of some Irish stingbats or sum'th'n. Other dimension..\" Rick takes a big slurp of Biff.\n\n\"But hold up Rick, I know you're doing all this to cheer me up. But I have to tell you, this is just another thing for me to be depressed about.\"\n\n\"Ugh, I'm not trying anything. This seemed like a good way to get rid of a burp corpse and produce a buttload of liquor at the same time.\" Rick says, turning away from Biff the unlimited liqour supply.\n\n\"And for me to lay waste to this low adversary we've had on our many adventures,\" Doc Brown says somewhat happier. \n\n\"Yeah, sure, whatever\" Rick replies uninterested.\n\n-----\n", "\"Oh man,\" said Morty.\n\n\"Shut up, Morty,\" said Rick.\n\n\"Oh man,\" said Morty.\n\nDoc Brown and Marty McFly watched in amusement. Doc could tell that this old man had just recently escaped the nursing home, and his confused grandson was trying to keep him calm. Marty was thinking about Lorraine.\n\n\"Hey, do you need a ride?\" Doc asked.\n\n\"What, in that? Who are you, some kind of loser-car collector? 'Cause that's a loser car,\" replied Rick.\n\n\"I don't know, Rick,\" said Morty. \"It looks pretty nice. It looks preeeet-\"\n\n\"Shut up Morty,\" said Rick. \"Ok, give us a lift. I need to be in Alaska yesterday.\"\n\n\"Uh oh,\" thought Doc. \"Do they know about Marty's time traveling?\" Marty was thinking about Lorraine.\n\n\"Say, why don't you wait here for a second?\" asked Doc. \"I just need to get some... tools. Marty, why don't you keep them company?\"\n\nMarty did not respond because he was thinking about Lorraine.\n\nDoc left quickly. Rick and Morty approached the car.\n\n\"Ooh, look at this, Rick,\" said Morty. \"I wonder what happens-\"\n\n\"Calvin,\" said Marty as the DeLorean revved up.\n\n\"Oh, look what you did Morty. Good job, Morty,\" said Rick. \"Look at you, Morty.\"\n\n\"Gee, thanks Rick,\" said Morty.\n\n\"Shut up Morty,\" said Rick. \"Get in the loser-car.\"\n\n\"Marty!\" yelled Doc, as he rounded the corner with his Luger, \"Marty!\"\n\n\"Wh-what?\" said Morty as he and Rick disappeared.\n\n\"What were you thinking?\" yelled Doc.\n\n\"Huh?\" said Marty. \"Oh, just thinking about Lorraine.\"\n\n---\n\n/r/translationlostin" ]	3
Sorry if this prompt has already been done. It's my first time posting here, so enjoy!	[WP] You were cursed at birth, but the curse was set to appear at a random point in your life. You woke up today, on your twenty-third birthday, to find that the curse has been enacted, and every knot in your presence unties itself upon getting close to it.	[ "\"Yo, I'm off to the pool ma',\" Jack said sprinting out the kitchen door. The other kids were still shoving cereal into their mouths but Jack was too anxious, he hadn't even tied his shoes. \n\nHe sprinted down the hill, swinging a left by the Georges' colonial home and came up at the pool. It was a small gated community with friends from years gone by. Everyone had agreed to meet Jack here, bright and early, with donuts to start his shift as a lifeguard. His life couldn't get much better than this; it was relaxed, it was fun and best of all the girls were all over him. Granted, he had to card them sometimes but it was the only fault he could find. \n\nJack pulled the lock up and yanked the gate open, slamming the hollow rods against the wall of the club. Jack waved to the pool manager who was busy smoking a Pall Mall at the end of the pool as he skimmed the leaves out. It was a pointless task but, as he would say, it's on the checklist and the checklist always gets done. \"Donuts are on the table!\" Justin shouted, keeping his cigarette tight between his lips.\n\nJack pulled his shirt off, tied his shorts and grabbed a chocolate glazed marvel. He'd been craving a little sugar, especially free and fried sugar. He stuffed his shirt into the locker with his name written on masking tape across it, right below Kelsey's locker, the model's locker.\n\nKids started to trickle in a few hours later, swimming lessons were offered around nine and the other two on the shift came in minutes before they were needed. They laughed and ate with Jack, who was constantly tying his shorts back together. It was a marvel, they couldn't keep their shoes tied or their shorts tied either, \"must be all the chlorine in the string,\" Sam said. His curly fro sopped up his brains but Jack and Carl, the other new lifeguard, nodded and bit into another donut.\n\nEveryone stopped eating and talking, even Justin paused for a moment as Kelsey walked in. She was wearing a bikini top, tied around her shoulders, her classical bleach blonde hair folded like soft serve ice cream down her shoulders and the brown eyes sealed it, no, the freckles sealed it- Jack could never decide. He gulped air, she was going to say something to him. His shorts were untied, his shoes were untied, and she was going to talk to him.\n\n\"Hey Jack, it's your birthday right?\" She said approaching the donut box where he stood. Two more steps, her arms were outstretched...she was coming in for a hug- \"happy birth- oh my god!\" her top floated down exposing her upper body. Everyone saw it and everyone would remember it that night, they were perfect, well tanned and everything. She flinched, groping for the strings, frazzled at what had just happened. Her shoes were untied, as she shuffled away she tripped, Jack caught her, handing her a towel quickly. \"I don't know what's happening! I'm so sorry,\" Kelsey said.\n\n\"It's fine, our shoes have been coming undone all day. Happy twenty-third to me, right?\" Kelsey laughed, that's all Jack had really wanted.", "Knots getting untied? I thought to myself, staring down at the limp shoelaces. I tried again. Loop, the bunny ears. And as soon as I was finished, like magic, they came undone. That's gotta be the lamest curse ever.\n\nIt really had to be. I've known people who've had their teeth turn to bees or every liquid in their house become flammable oil. I once heard of a guy who had to believe, without a trace of doubt, that he was a dragon every time he saw a schoolbus. Knots getting untied whenever I got close? As far as curses went, that was short change. I still had my wife Sylvia and my wonderful job. I just had to be careful around ropes.\n\nI tucked the laces into the shoes, kissed Sylvia goodbye, and headed off for work.\n\nIt was normal, at first. I'm just your typical office drone. Chats around the watercooler. Few hours in the cubicle. Someone bumped into me as I got up for a bathroom break.\n\nI got off early. It was either that or just thinking about how ridiculously stupid my curse was that made me step on a shoelace and trip and fall right into the CEO, who was on a company visit. And who also happened to be carrying a cake celebrating our good work.\n\nFired on the spot. As I flicked pieces of icing off my tie, I stared bleakly at the setting sun. It was all fine, though. I was well-qualified. I could probably find another job, I kept telling myself. I kept telling myself that so much that I didn't notice that I was walking past a crew of handymen hoisting up a bookshelf with a rope.\n\nIt was midnight when I walked out of the police station. They had a 'Cursology' department, focused around hex-related crimes. The interrogator yelled a lot. Apparently, I'd paralyzed one man, broke the legs of another. Accidental or not, I had to be careful with my curse. They gave me a court date for the 20th.\n\nIt was all fine, though, I told myself. As long as I could come home and fall asleep next to Sylvia, I'd be okay. Everything was going to be okay.\n\nI came in to find her with her bags packed.\n\n\"S... Sylvia?\"\n\n\"I'm sorry,\" she said, hefting the cases up and walking past me, \"I just... I can't do it anymore.\"\n\nIt took a minute for me to understand. I laughed. After that, I used a gun to do it.\n\nA rope wouldn't work." ]	2
	[WP]You are the director of the agency that, every fifty years, exchanges communication with a civilization fifty light-years from Earth. This time, however, there is no response.	[ "The Director sipped his coffee, aware even as it trickled down his throat in a cold stream that it was his sixth cup of the evening. His face felt tight, eyes wide like some kind of deep sea fish that didn't need to blink, and his foot was tapping at the thin grey carpet to a beat so rapid that the sound of it nearly blended in with the hum of the giant computers all around him. \n\n\"Nothing?\" He asked, trying desperately to keep the caffeine quaver out of his voice- shakiness was not what anyone on the team needed, not now, not ever from a man in his position. Shakiness did not befit a Man of His Position. \n\n\"No, sir.\" Said the young tech seated in front of the computer before him. His voice rang out with the relief that he was there, seated in the warm leather embrace of a chair that absolved him of the necessity of dealing with the shit that would soon be falling from the sky to strike a thousand fans at once. \n\n\"Okay.\" Said the Director, straightening and looking about at all the faces in the room, pasty and overfed, mostly balding and mostly bespectacled. \"Okay, please keep monitoring and let me know if there is any update. I need-\" And here he forced a chuckle from his throat as though it were an old brown chunk of apple that needed to be dislodged before it choked him, \"-to visit the bathroom. Too much coffee.\" He bared his teeth at all of them and then strode quickly from the room, his pants swishing around his ankles with the speed of his steps. \n\nIt wasn't a joke- he was about to shit his pants. Whether from fear or from the six cups of coffee he had ingested that night, he wasn't sure, but what was an absolute certainty was that he needed the john, pronto. He hurried into a stall and slammed the door, making the entire flimsy set of metal walls shake like a giant plucked doorstop, then snapped the lock. Hasty fingers picked at his belt, then whoosh, his pants were on the floor. \n\nSweet relief. \n\nWhen the Director was done, he rose, feeling lighter, more purposeful, rid of some deep-rooted parasite that had been festering in his stomach and pumping fear into his brain from its lowly throne. He washed his hands, thoroughly, and then splashed water onto his face. With both wetted hands, he smoothed his hair back from his high forehead, pulling at the skin so that his eyes popped open in the mirror, seeing as much as they could see at once. He released his own forehead, watching the redness left from the pressure of his hands fade from his skin. It was going to be okay. Everything was going to be okay. \n\nHe looked down at his coffee mug that sat on the smooth white counter of the bathroom sink. The mug was still shiny and perfectly beige both inside and out. The Director remembered his last meeting with his predecessor, and how he had been fascinated and somewhat disgusted by the state of the man's coffee cup. It had appeared, even when empty, to be full almost to the brim with the ghost of a cup of black coffee, stained indelibly so that the beige of the outer cup was turned to a watercolor impression of a muddy pond on the inside. The older man had been a veteran of many late-night meetings, board room tables strewn with charts and plans, messages in all the various languages of the world, abstract mathematical equations and petitions from inconceivably arrogant artists who wanted their drawings and paintings and music and nude self-portraits to be included in the next message. Fifty years between broadcasts meant that almost everyone had the time to think that they should be included in the outgoing voicemail of the Earth. \n\n\"It's a pain in the ass, and it sounds corny as hell, but we do have to consider everyone's desires.\" The older man had said, sipping from the filthy mug and regarding the future Director from beneath two eyebrows as healthy and overgrown as English hedges. \"Even if they are... impractical.\" \n\nThe Director (or Paul, as he had been known then) snorted. He picked up a large color photograph of a nude couple that had painted themselves with glow in the dark paint, then braided their hair together and lived in this situation for a month in their New York apartment. The photograph went along with a 760 page document explaining the meaning of the piece, all of which the artists asked, no, demanded be sent to the Listeners in the next transmission. \n\n\"People like this are a waste of time.\" He said, brandishing the photograph at the then-Director. \"And you only encourage them with your indulgence.\"\n\nThe then-Director had nodded sagely, peering at the glowing, naked, intertwined couple. His decision during the last transmission to include one piece of art, selected by him at more or less random, to the transmissions from a pool of open submissions had led to a flood of detritus from the rejects of the successful art world, people with no way in to outer space other than a fifty cent manila envelope and a healthy dose of optimism. \n\n\"I suppose you can say I made my own bed as far as this stuff is concerned.\" He said. \"But I must confess, I find most of it extremely entertaining. And one or two of the submissions are even quite beautiful.\" \n\nPaul, the Director-to-be, snorted again. He'd had his own ideas on the subject, and plenty other subjects regarding the way that the program should be run. But he had figured that then was not the time to air all of them, especially as many of these ideas were freshly formed and still quite fragile, like seedlings cast into a new environment where the winds were harsher and the sun more intense than they really would have preferred. \n\nAnd then the old Director had died, the night before the next exchange. Heart failure. Paul, the Now-Director, had found himself thinking of the old man's eyebrows, and how spectacularly they had failed him as a predictor of general health. Fucking eyebrows and coffee cups. And now this. \n\nNo response. ", "The director straightened his tie, and walked into the control room. This was the day. He hadn't been born when his father was head of the Interstellar Communications Agency, and even if he was he doubted he'd have known it existed. \n\nToday's the day he thought, repeating it like a silent mantra.\n\nThere had been three contacts since the first message in 1973. Their name couldn't be pronounced in any earthly language, among the agency they called them Watchers. Humanity was not the first civilization they had contacted. They were interested in knowledge. They had exchanged ideas, information, technology. Since the first contact, humanity had developed artificial intelligence, hovercraft, and more technological marvels. We had brought to them music, art, humor. Simpler things, perhaps, but human things.\n\nHe walked up to the control panel. The room was somewhat unnerving, so empty. Very few were allowed to attend the contact in person, some techies, a handful of experts in various subjects, and a few government personnel. The director waited.\n\nAnd waited.\n\n\"Computer, report.\"\n\n\"Signal not found.\"\n\nThat wasn't possible.\n\n\"Computer, update.\"\n\n\"Signal not found.\"\n\nA young tech specialist piped up, his words quivering a bit. \"The system is, uh, right.. sir. No communication detected.\"\n\n\"That's not possible. Patch us through, get us contact!\" he shouted, the fear barely breaking through into his words.\n\n\"It's not... it's not the connection, sir.\" he responded, his voice quavering. \"There is no contact. They haven't sent a message.\"\n\nThe room was still.\n\n\"No, no, no no no...\" This wasn't happening. Nothing had gone wrong last contact, he had read the reports and listened to the logs. Everything should be fine. It should be fine. What had gone wrong? Sure, the messages took 50 years to get to them, but they had never not come. They had to come. Right?\n\nThe enormous monitor spanning far wall flared to life. Garbled, twisted speech echoed from the speakers, and the AI quickly began to translate into a smooth, monotone voice.\n\n\"This is what your species calls a prank, yes?\"" ]	2
	[WP] In the future, people can connect their minds to control "hive robots", where all of the controller's consciousnesses contribute to what the robot does. You are a detective who is tasked with figuring out which mind in a captured hitman robot was responsible for the murder of a famous actor.	[ "\"Wire me to any patrol bots near the crime scene.\" I said, as i prepare to connect to investigate a case of murder. Not any ordinary murder, but one of the famous Oscar winning actor, Sebastion Jones.\n\n\"Detective Alex Burton, LAPD.\" I said to the officer at the scene. After being let into the crime scene, I immediately look for any evidence. I immediately spot a puddle of oil on the ground, confirming my deepest worries. A robot did this. I sighed, this is going to be one hell of a case. \n\nAfter thanking the officers at the crime scene, I disconnected from the patrol bot. In order to gather more evidence, i will have to head down to the crime scene myself.\n\nThis murder was unlike any others. The scene was clean. I've been on the force for 31 years to see multiple thousands of murder cases, this is the cleanest murder yet. There were no traces, no fingerprints, no murder weapon and no motive of murder to be found anywhere at the crime scene. This was a professional job. Someone who had done this before.\n\n\"Sir, we found something\", a young officer with holding a transparent plastic bag said as he approached me. The bag seems to have some opaque brown liquid in it. \"Whats this?\" I asked. \"Type 18 Oil\", he replied. \"And how is this evidence?\" I asked, puzzled. Ever since the introduction of Human-Controlled Robots (HCRs) six years ago, my life and job started to become literal hell as more and more people learnt to control robots. As a senior person, i'm not fond with technology. \"You see sir, the robots working here are all Model H robots, which uses Type 16 Oil, and not Type 18 Oil, which was only used by the model X robots.\". Amazed at the newfound evidence. I commended the young officer. Indeed, this was the big break that we needed. I surveyed the surveillance footage once more, and indeed, a model X robot had gone through this corridor.\n\nI turnt to the police officers who were busily discussing their own theories. \"Boys, we've found the bot, now lets find the man\". Feeling confident and at the same time partially worried, i headed off back to the station. Only god will know where this case might take us. After all, this was a professional job.\n\n(Thank you for reading! Please leave some feedback for me to reflect and improve on! This is my 2nd writing prompt ever!)" ]	1
Bible, Quran, other books. They all work fine for this.	[WP] People are allowed into heaven as long as they lived their lives by their own interpretation of the bible. You've just allowed in the strangest person yet.	[ "I mindlessly stamped the folder in front of me, barely paying attention to the papers in front of me. The woman whose folder I approved thanked me and went though the golden gates behind me, fading away after she walked a few meters past. \"Most likely taken to her family\", I thought in the back of my head.\n\n The next in line, a mostly normal man save for the slightly distorted look in his eyes walked up. Another folder popped into existence in front of me. I scanned the front of the first papers. \"Nathan Queen-Catholic, Marriage-0\" Standard records. I could approve this guy and let Michael take the next shift. As I was about to approve him, something caught my eye in the top of the page. \n\n\"Murders-150\" I looked closer. Yes, that was correct. I glanced at the man, and realized he was muttering to himself. \"You mind explaining to me how you killed 150 people?\" His eyes snapped towards me, his expression looked a bit too much like a demon's for my liking. \"They deserved it\", he snarled. \"Excuse me?\", I asked. \"All abortionists deserve to go to Hell\" I stared at him, my mind putting the pieces together. I closed my eyes, knowing what was to come. As long as this psychopath had followed his own interpretation of the Bible, I had to allow him in. And he had. \n\nMy hands slowly overcame their shock and approved his paper before I processed what I was doing. He sprinted through the gates before I could react, and disappeared. I had just let a murderer into Paradise.\n\n(First time writing a WP, sorry if the formats bad, please tell me any criticism you have :P)" ]	1
	[WP]The chosen one is dead.	[ "\"What do we do now?\" Gabriel said with tears in his eyes \"We don't know, he was our last hope all we can do now is pray\" as The Profit looks up hoping to see something. Michael lay dead on the battlefield, Wings covering most of his lower body, ripped apart, as the enemy army marched towards what remained of the U.S. \"Lucifer won, and we are powerless to stop him now\" The Profit says as he grabs Michaels sword \"We can only hope that God grants peace to them all, and may God have mercy on our souls\" as he kills Gabriel and then himself.\n" ]	1
	[WP] It was a dead city on the edge of a dying land.	[ "I walked the sand-ridden streets, the desert had encroached upon this place long ago, this place was once a beacon of humanity's dominance over nature, a technological centre where miracles happened every other day, now it was just another husk, a dead city on the edge of a dying land.\n\nA ran my hand across the top of sand and dust covered cars as I continued on my path, most were rusted and decaying although one or two still retained a shade of their original colours. I was looking for something specific though, something that would still run in this desolate place, something that could help me escape my family.", "Fred sat in his favourite spot. He sat there, staring down at the destroyed city that he called home. He'd found this spot years ago when he was hiding from the scavengers that shared the city with him. It's been his favourite ever since as it offered him a view of the entire city, all from one spot. As an added benefit it was extremely difficult to reach the top, making it near impossible for anyone to sneak up on him while he sat there with his rifle in hand.\n\nHis favourite rifle, a modified OSV-96 sat across his legs. On the stock was numerous markings, simple scratchings really. Each mark represented a Demon he had killed. Currently, the stock of his rifle was full, with approximately 401 notches. For years he had protected this city as best as he could from the monsters that plagued the world. While the scavengers spent their days barely scraping by, barely surviving. He spent his days hunting. Every day at dawn he'd wake up, don his weapons and hunt, only returning that night well after the other residents of the city had retired, for fear of the very Demons that he hunted.\n\nAs the sun was reaching it's peak in the sky, Fred spotted a Demon chasing a child through the destroyed streets. He raised his rifle, butting the stock up to his shoulder, resting the rifle on his knee he took a breath, aimed down the sights and fired. The Demon curently mid leap was propelled sideways crashing into a car. Fred watched as the child stopped, turned and inspected the Demons corpse. A gaping hole in its chest reveled how it died, but not the source. He watched the child scan her surroundings, looking for the source but to no avail as there was no way the child could possibly see Fred atop the skyscraper.\n\nHe let out a breath and continued watching the child navigate through the streets of the city. He kept an eye on her for the next hour as she swerved through the streets, heading for the only safe spot in the entire city. The old bank vault, aptly named 'The Vault'. He waited till she entered the Vault, only then did he turn his attention back to the rest of the city. With only 3 hours left of daylight, he got back to hunting. In the next 3 hours, he killed 8 more Demons and saved 3 more lives. As the sun disappeared behind the horizon, using the last vestiges of light Fred navigated his way down from his vantage point. \n\nWith his rifle slung over his shoulder, he palmed his pistol and made his way home. " ]	2
	[WP] Your name is P. Simon. One day, you sign for a package and the courier leaves before you have a chance to realise that it was actually addressed to Poseidon.	[ "Ok Paul, don't freak out. You have Poseidon's package \"Fuck.\" The God of the sea. I have his. . . package. \n\nThe amazon box sits in front of me. No larger than a loaf of bread. I can barely look at it. If I look, it feels like he will know it is in my possession. I stare at the table. Using my peripheral vision I slowly grab hold of the box. It shakes, a dull shifting sound, like there is only one object in the box. Its nearly the same size as the package from the sound; it doesn't move much inside.\n\n\"It's not like he has a return address.\" I say to no one, clutching my forehead. I finally look at it and sigh.\n\n\"Poseidon if you can hear me, I have your package. I'm sorry I signed for it. Please don't flood my house, or turn my bathtub into a marsh.\" \n\nI should just put this back outside. That's where the mailman left it. No one would even know I touched the damn thing. And when Poseidon calls Amazon, they'll send a guy to pick it up. I won't even be associated in this mix up.\n\nBut Paul. You have a God's mail. What could be inside. It may make you rich. It may get you women. I let out a sigh. This is going to end badly I know it.\n\nI stand. Kitchen. Scissors. Box. I do it quickly without thinking. If I think he will know. I cut, the tape falls. The breath is stuck in my lungs. I open the box, remove the inflated packing plastic, and reach inside.\n\nI pull a light blue cardboard box out. I'm looking at the back. Turning it I read.\n\nGrow your own SEA MONKEYS! It's easy just-\n\n\"WHAT!\" The astounded sound rips from my chest, I can breathe again.\n\nThe front door crashes open. In strides a figure, filling the door frame. \n\n\"FOOLISH HUMAN! YOU HAVE TAKEN THAT WHICH IS NOT YOURS!\"\n\nI'm sitting, mouth agape. I cannot process this. Before I can say anything Poseidon bursts into laughter.\n\nBehind him is a camera, and a boom operator entering my house.\n\n\"FOR YOUR laugh TRANSGRESSION snort YOU WILL BE PRANKED. AND YOU JUST WERE\" He lets out a mighty bellow. \"THERE IS A CAMERA IN THIS FRUIT BOWL. AND HERE ATOP YOUR FRIDGE. AHAHA, BE SURE TO GET HIS FACE IN THE SHOT.\"\n\nThe episode premiered later that month, I had to sign a release. Not like I had much choice.\n", "BZZZZZZZ\n\n\"Damnit. Today was supposed to be boxers day, this better be good.\" I paused Witcher 3 and stood up off the couch. \"Just one second!\" I walked over to my room and threw on a pair of basketball shorts and a t-shirt and walked to the door. Opening it up I saw a UPS guy standing with a small box in one hand, and a tall long package behind him on the ground. \n\n\"Alright, Mr...\" He laughed in disbelief. \"You're name is really Paul Simon?\"\n\n\"Ha yep, that's me!\" I was only slightly annoyed. This has been happening to me for over 20 years now and I was used to it. \n\n\"Wow, that's awesome!\" He was a young guy, maybe 23, with long curly hair and a fairly athletic build. He handed me over the first box, which looked like the new books I'd ordered off of Amazon. \"I mean, maybe it's not though, I bet people bother you about it all the time.\"\n\n\"It's really not that bad, the real Paul Simon is an amazing musician. It's not like Office Space or anything.\" He laughed a little and nodded. Was he even old enough to have seen Office Space? Oh well, I went on with the usual joke anyway. \"But to be fair, if my name was Michael Bolton I'd be pretty upset about it too.\"\n\nHe laughed a little less at that. Maybe he hadn't seen it after all. Oh well. I started to turn away and he reached out his hand with a finger raised up. \n\n\"Hold on Bro, you gotta sign for this one back here.\" He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a little machine. He held it out and I scribbled my name in the box. With a, \"Thanks Man!\" he spun around and almost ran to his truck. Very energetic. I walked over to the larger package and picked it up. It was heavier than I expected and I struggled a little bit to get it inside. \n\nFirst things first, I switched back into just boxers, leaving the shorts and shirt in a pile by the couch. It was my boxer day damnit, and I was going to observe it faithfully. I opened up the smaller package first and saw the Brandan Sanderson books I had ordered earlier this week. Cool. I leaned the second package against the wall and started working on the top. It was a thin but broad package, maybe about six feet tall, and probably weighed close to twenty pounds. I got the top open and looked inside. Then blinked and looked in again. As far as I could tell, there was a trident in there. Like, a for real trident. The spikes even looked a little pointy. \n\nI leaned the box back against the wall and sat on the couch to think. This didn't make any sense, I never ordered a trident, and I locked out the Amazon app when I started drinking on purpose last weekend. Scratching my head I pulled up my order history just to be sure. Nope, clean. No tridents. Huh. \n\nI walked back over to the box and flipped it around to read the label. There was the problem, it wasn't sent to a P. Simon, it was sent to a Poseidon. I turned back around to the couch and was about to take a step when it hit me. I looked at the label, thought for a second, but ended up spinning around and going back to my game. \"Probably just a prank.\"\n\nIt was a couple of hours later and I still hadn't moved when, BZZZZZZZ! Damnit. I only threw on the shorts this time and opened the door. Standing there was a man, 6'5\" if he was an inch and he looked like an Adonis. He also wasn't wearing a shirt, so we sort of matched. There was that. \n\n\"Uh... How can I help you...?\"\n\nHe cleared his throat and I thought I saw movement on the sides of his neck. \"I believe you received a package today that belonged to me?\" His voice was deeper than anything I've ever heard before, and I was starting to look around for cameras and Ashton Kutcher. \n\n\"So, you're... uh... Poseidon?\"\n\n\"I am. And you are?\"\n\n\"Paul Simon.\"\n\n\"No kidding! For real?\" He seemed genuinely excited. \n\nI laughed nervously. \"haha yep, that's me! But I'm not the singer.\"\n\nHe boomed out a single \"Ha!\" and walked past me and into the house. \"I know that mortal, I met him a couple of years ago. Great singer.\"\n\n\"I agree.\" I followed him into my house and watched him spot the box and walk over. He effortlessly tipped the box over and pulled out the trident. Spinning it in his hand he seemed to grow brighter, and his curls started to glow. \n\n\"Excellent! Thank you for holding on to this Paul. Or\" his eyes gleamed mischievously, \"should I call you Al?\"\n\nI laughed nervously again. \"Go right ahead. But I don't think I'm going to call you Betty any time soon if that's ok with you.\" His laughter echoed around my small living room. \n\n\"I like you Paul, I hope I get to see you again some time.\" And just like that, before I could even form a response he walked out of my house and shut the door. \n\nIt was then that I noticed the puddles of water slowly seeping into my carpet where he had walked. Annoyed, I kicked my shirt over one, and took off my shorts and threw them on another. Sighing I walked over to the couch and flopped down. I'll clean up the mess later, it was boxer day damnit.", "I'd chucked the parcel in the corner of the living room once the courier left, letting it roll to a stop among the debris of the party from the night before. It sat there, nestled among several red cups, an empty cardboard case of beer, and a forlorn tennis shoe, heavily scuffed and without laces. As soon as I saw the package wasn't addressed to me I resolved to return it to the post office. Maybe once I'd drunk some water, eaten a few slices of cold, greasy leftover pizza garnished with extra-strength Tylenol, and taken a long nap. \n\nPoseidon. Who mails a package to themselves under the name Poseidon? \n\nIn my dream, I was drifting through the depths of the ocean. Everything was stained a lovely shade of cobalt blue. My headache was gone, my bare skin was covered with rippling blades of light that speared down from the surface. I was naked, but I wasn't cold or ashamed. Below me, a giant coral reef stretched, undulating with sudden broad peaks in pastel colors, then dipping suddenly into stretches of blackness from which glinting eyes peered up at me, unblinking. The current carried me without effort, without even the sensation of movement. It was hard to see very far ahead of me, so the far horizon of the sea materialized as I grew closer to it. Before long a tall archway made of coral and twined around with thick, muscly looking strands of kelp emerged out of the gloom. I floated towards it, unconcerned. With a slight tingling sensation, I passed underneath its lofty arch. \n\nWater falling. A steady stream on a hard surface. I blinked. My headache was back. Directly in my field of vision, I saw my phone on my bedside table. It was leaking. Water seeped out of the hairline cracks in the screen, bubbled from around the home button, spouted in a miniature geyser from the headphone jack. Without thinking, I snatched the phone. The screen, incredibly, still worked. \n\n(000) 732-4631\nMay Be: Poseidon, God of the Sea\n\nI stared at the phone, feeling the sensation of the water cascading over my palm and running off the back of my hand. Without much thought, I slid my finger over the screen to accept the call. After a moment's hesitation, I pressed the speakerphone button. \n\nHello?\n\nThe voice was deep, so full of bass that I could feel the phone vibrating in my hand. It had that muted, slightly echoey quality that underwater sound has, as though both the speaker and I were seated at the bottom of a swimming pool, and they were shouting at me from the opposite end. \n\nHELLO? CAN YOU HEAR ME?\n\n\"Ah, yeah.\" I said, still staring at the water-vomiting phone in my hand. \"It's kind of hard to understand you though.\" \n\nNot really much I can do about that, Paul. Look- I think you have a package of mine.\n\nThere wasn't much else to do but fess up.\n\n\"Yeah, I think I do.\"\n\nCool, look, can you do me a favor and just push it down a storm drain?\n\n\"Um, sure.\"\n\nYou didn't open it, did you?\n\n\"No.\" \n\nGreat, thanks. I owe you one. I keep putting 'Throw down a storm drain' in the delivery notes to Amazon but they never think I'm serious.\n\nThere was a pause. I didn't quite know what to say to this. \n\n\"Are you really-\"\n\nYes. Look, I feel bad- your phone's going to be dead after this.\n\n\"Oh.\" \n\nAnother pause. I was torn between feelings of awe and irritation. \n\nHey, Paul. I have an idea. Would you like to kind of, work for me?\n\n\"Um, is this some kind of 'Gods playing tricks on mortals thing?' Are... are you going to rape me?\"\n\nNo! Hey- no. You're getting your gods mixed up. I've barely done any raping. I meant, do you want to be my package delivery service. Like, I put your address on the packages, and then you just throw them in the storm drains. Or even better, just huck them off a cliff when you're next to the sea. I can take care of the rest.\n\n\"I, uh, don't mean to be rude, but... What's in it for me?\"\n\nWhat do you want? A pet octopus? The ability to speak to sea creatures? Gills?\n\nI thought about it. Honestly, none of those things sounded that great to me. \n\n\"Can I ask for payment later?\"\n\nThe laugh was watery, chuckling like a snowmelt-fed brook. \n\nYeah, ok. Just throw that package in the storm drain and we can figure something out.\n\n\"Cool.\"\n\nThanks Paul. And sorry about the phone.\n\n\"No worries.\"\n\nMy phone made a sound like a match dropped in the toilet and the screen went black. I sat down on heavily on my bed, still holding the wet thing in my hand. It was too much to think about right now- I'd have to go back to sleep and work it out later. Maybe after some more pizza. \n\n\n ", "&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Peter looked over the small box in his hands. Not another one, he thought. He closed the gate, went back into the townhouse and upstairs to the flat. It was another package for his flatmate Ake, a furry who went by the handle \"Poseidon\". Ake made a living specializing in digital paintings of sea-themed creatures and by Peter's assessment made good money from it since the guy didn't have a day job. Or maybe he ran drugs through the post. Peter didn't care. He was happy as long as the rent was paid on time.\n\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;\"Ahoy, God of the Sea,\" Peter cried lazily as he approached Ake's room.\n\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;\"Do you have to keep saying that?\" Ake replied. He got up from his Cintiq and stood at his doorway like some gatekeeper.\n\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;\"You named yourself 'Poseidon',\" Peter said. He could see Ake was wearing his trademark uniform: tank top and sweatpants. \n\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;\"Poseidon also caused earthquakes, you know,\" Ake said.\n\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;\"Are you sure you don't mean, 'earth-shattering orgasms'?\" Peter asked.\n\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;\"What?\"\n\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;\"You got another dildo in the mail, mate,\" Peter said. He offered the box through the threshold.\n\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;\"Oh,\" Ake began, \"That's actually for you.\"\n\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Peter hesitated. He looked down at the box. Sure enough it was still addressed to \"Poseidon\". He looked at Ake with suspicion.\n\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;\"A gift, for you, Peter. Don't worry, it's not a sex toy.\"\n\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Peter lifted a pen from Ake's nightstand to cut the tape on the box. Inside cardboard nestled between yesterday's newspapers was a book, cloth-bound, with an emblem of sun and moon over water embossed into the cover, gilt in silver. Peter dropped the box and began paging through the book. It was full of illustrations, of places real and imagined, all united by a theme of water.\n\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;\"Oh, if you flip to the Pacific chapter,\" Ake interjected, \"The title is a drawing of a traditional Polynesian stick chart. They mapped the winds and waves instead of trying to draw literal things. It's pretty cool, huh?\"\n\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;\"What's with this?\" Peter asked.\n\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;\"I just wanted to make something for you, Peter\" Ake said. \"The pictures are mine, and the binding is by this girl I know who publishes books for furries, but in this case she made this one herself, by hand. Anyways, you're a cool room mate, you know?\"" ]	4
	[WP] Wanting to break up the monotony, you decide to crash the massive house party down the street, only to discover- far too late -that it's a blowout for ancient religions. You're the only mortal in the place and others are catching on	[ "Poseidon was busy making a beer fountain when he noticed an unfamiliar face. Poseidon met most of the gods over the course of his existence, but this new god seemed peculiar. Poseidon knew it was not his place to confront the peculiar god, so instead he asked Zeus to sort this out. Zeus, being in a particularly good mood, set out to befriend this unfamiliar god.\n\n\"I haven't seen you at any of our other parties before, who are you?\" Asked Zeus while drinking a glass of some insanely powerful alcohol. A stench of ambrosia filled the air around him. Anyone could tell that Zeus was a powerful God, and prideful one too.\n\n\"Oh, I'm just a lowly God of creation, nothing too big\" replied the small man, attempting to shrink away from Zeus. Zeus furrowed his brow, seemingly annoyed with the god's response.\n\n\"Nonsense, I know all the gods of creation. You aren't Eurynome, nor Odin, nor Enlil, nor Marduk, nor Brahma, nor Vishnu, nor Siva. You aren't Izanagi or Izanami and you sure as hell don't look like Quetzalcoatl. So let me ask you again, who are you?\"\n\nAt this point, many of the nearby gods started to notice the incursion. One of them, seemingly interested by the conversation, approached the two.\n\n\"Well if it isn't my good friend Ammu! How have you been buddy?\" Exclaimed Loki, holding what appeared to be a bottle filled with green liquid. Zeus, initially surprised by Loki's interruption, regained his composure and responded to the small man.\n\n\"I haven't seen you in millennia. Embarrassingly, I forgot that you were invited to this party. I really do need to catch up with you and learn a little more about the sculpture of Dogon, but I have to go and meet some of the other gods. I have to be a good host to all of my guests.\"\n\nZeus walked away from the small man, displeased with the conversation. Zeus picked up a bottle of what appeared to be ambrosia and found a beautiful young goddess to talk to. Only Zeus knew that she was going to see the swan tonight.\n\nLoki turned back to the small man with a look of amusement on his face. The trickster began to lead the small man towards the exit while conversing with him.\n\n\"This really isn't a party for mortals, and I should tell everyone at the party who you really are. However, you gave me the perfect opportunity to make Zeus a laughing stock, and for that I thank you. Now run along and never come back if you know what's good for you.\"\n\nLoki pushed the man through the front door and slammed it shut, knowing the truth behind this 'God'.\n\n\n\n" ]	1
	[WP]God decides to take a break from Heaven to hit the Earth clubbing scene. While being with a woman she yells "Oh God" and he gets paranoid that hes been found out.	[ "God has gone home with Beth, a woman he met at the club. They are currently having sex.\n\nBeth: Oh yeah, harder, harder!\n\nGod: Yes, my child... I mean, shit... Okay, will do! \n\nGod's love-making intensifies.\n\nBeth: Oh God, yes!\n\nGod stops.\n\nGod: Uh... What?\n\nBeth: Hey, why'd you stop?\n\nGod: Why'd you say that name?\n\nBeth: What name?\n\nGod: That one you said just a second ago.\n\nBeth: God?\n\nGod: Yeah, that one. Like, uh... Who's that? That's not me... I'm not that guy. \n\nBeth: Well, duh. \n\nGod: Right... Right. Yeah, okay... I mean, why'd you say his name?\n\nBeth: Are you fucking serious?\n\nGod: Yeah... No... I mean, is he somebody you know or something?\n\nBeth: No, I don't know God!\n\nGod: Oh... Well, okay then. I just thought it was kind of weird that you said that name.\n\nBeth: Jesus Christ!\n\nGod: YOU LEAVE MY SON OUT OF-... Err, I mean, Jesus who?\n\nBeth: Do you live under a fucking rock? \n\nGod: Ha! Me? No... I mean, I'm under rocks and I am rocks.\n\nBeth: You're rocks?\n\nGod: And I like to rock. \n\nBeth rolls her eyes.\n\nGod: I mostly listen to Christian rock, though.\n\nBeth: I don't fucking care. You know what? Grab your stuff and leave.\n\nGod: What? No way!\n\nBeth: Uh... Yeah way.\n\nGod: Whoa... What about Yahweh?\n\nBeth: Goddammit! \n\nGod: I'll damn whatever I please, thank you very much.\n\nBeth: LEAVE!\n\nGod puts on his clothes, grabs his phone and wallet, and heads towards the door.\n\nGod: Call me?\n\nBeth: Go fuck yourself.\n\nGod: Wow... Just wow. \n\nGod walks outside and waits for his Uber driver.\n" ]	1
The hajj is the Muslim pilgrimage to Mecca, which every adult Muslim has to do once in their lifetime.	[WP] First contact: Aliens arrive in Saudi Arabia for their Hajj	[ "His Facebook feed didn't actually change that much in the following weeks, months.\n\nHis racist older family members still hemmed and hawed about those goddamned Muslims. Young black men were still shot down in the streets, justified because they were 'thugs', 'had records' or were committing petty crimes. \n\nThe talking heads on the network stations still clucked back and forth on stale public policy, so far removed from the working class as to become unrecognizable.\n\nThe only difference he saw, was the increase in what some called the \"Jesus-apologists\", in that they were trying to reconcile Jesus' place between the two scriptures.\n\nNeo-feminists still decried all the Abrahamic religions as misogynistic, scientists still struggle to find whats out there.\n\nThe alien just call themselves \"A People\" and refuse to talk about anything other than their interpretations of the Koran. They refuse to let us see or learn anything about their language, and only speak and write things in Arabic and Urdu. \n\nIn the end, the revelation didn't really change anything. His Facebook feed simply had a few new memes on it, Allah be praised. " ]	1
	[WP] All his life he has had paradoxical reactions with drugs. Takes his sleeping pills early morning to keep him awake and drinks a cup of coffee when he can't sleep.	[ "My condition came to light last year after a risky dive to catch a Frisbee. Yeah, it sounds like the origin story of a very lame superhero, but this round of Frisbee wasn't the crucible for my weird affliction; it was merely a revelation. I used to have trouble sleeping, tossing and turning and cursing myself, thinking I could've let the damn thing hit the ground and kept my fingers the way they'd grown out. Ignorance is bliss, right? Recently, well, I don't know. Some things happen the way they happen, and if they don't then it'll be some other way. Truthfully, that's a thought which shakes me up more than the first time I took pain medication. What would have happened if I'd walked away unscathed? I've always been a careful person, but there's a reason that insurance companies disown any responsibility for \"acts of God\". I could've broken my arm later in the game, or been hit by a drunk on my way home, and then I'd find out via general anesthesia that there's something wrong with my brain. It's extremely fortuitous that I avoided the OR table, because I really don't know what anesthesia would do to me. If your conscious body moves away from a coma, where do you go? \n\nTangent aside, I broke a couple fingers and we called the game off. They were a bit crooked, but my physician said I could get by with a splint and a month's worth of Vicodin. If you're the deductive type, you might see where I'm going with this. Once I was back in my apartment, I took a couple pills and kicked my feet up on the table. Two episodes of Maury past, I'm retching and crying into a trash can, and it wasn't Maury's fault. To be brief, the painkillers made the pain...uh, \"killer\". At the time I thought it might be an allergic reaction, but I could barely move and I sure as hell couldn't make a coherent phone call. In retrospect, this was likely another unseen blessing; I doubt the ER staff would've figured out what my actual problem was before they killed me with good intentions.\n\nI woke up the next morning after a night of patchy sleep without rest, feeling like a million bucks in change had rained down on me from the sky. If you took that to be a positive simile, you're probably one of those people who thinks Warren Buffett has \"the Midas touch\", as though he has a habit of turning his loved ones into positive market trends. Let me rephrase: I felt unwell. Not only had the Vicodin dramatically increased my finger pain and placed me in a state of agony, but my general sensitivity to temperature and touch had skyrocketed. Still dealing with the aftereffects, I struggled to pull my laptop up onto my chest and supinely searched the web, trying to find information on paradoxical reactions to hydrocodone, painkillers in general, anything that could possibly help me soothe my aching body. This wasn't entirely a new experience; aspirin had always given me a headache, and some other over-the-counter meds screwed me over, but it was never severe. I was just a perpetual target of the jabberjaw laundry lists known as \"possible side effects\".\n\nOn a whim, I added extraneous info about aspirin and caffeine to my query on some archaic self-diagnosis site. I was met with two possibilities: brain cancer, and an unparsable pseudo-Latin snake of a disorder, one which I still can't pronounce even though I'm one of 3 people to ever suffer from it. I clicked the latter, marveling that letters could be juxtaposed in such a fashion. As it turned out, the description matched my symptoms exactly, and one of the other documented cases had been discovered in much the same way I found out about myself. There was little information apart from a general description and anecdotes from the two case studies afforded by PubMed, but this was enough to know that I was...unique. Having allergies to one or two drugs, that's reasonable, but all these inverse reactions convinced me that either I'm one seriously unlucky bastard, or there's something deeper going on. Unfortunately, I still didn't have evidence to fuel anything other than a hunch, so I resolved to investigate further once I felt more vital.\n\n~~ ~~\n\n[To be continued]" ]	1
	[WP] No, I don't work for the side of good. I work for the side of balance, and for now, there's too much good in the world.	[ "He stood over the body and watched as the blood pooled at his feet. He knew there was no escape but it had to be done, he saw that now. What at first seemed like the insane ramblings of an asylum patient had become crystal clear the longer he thought about it.\n\n\"There is too much good in the world, if we don't balance the scales it will mean the end of the everything...\"\n\nThe man's final words before they got the injection in still rung in his ears. He looked up and saw their faces, knew at that moment he would go down in history as the villain. It was not true of course, but no one else would know that. See when a light shines too bright its impossible to see where the shadows are, and if you can't see something you can't do anything to fight it. If Ultra-man wasn't stopped before he flipped the switch he would have become too bright, the shadows would have become impossible to see.\n\nThey finally got over the shock and the other members of the Consortium began to rush at him. After working with them for years he knew exactly what to expect, exactly how they would handle this betrayal, but it would be too late. Ultra-man would be dead, and in that moment the scales would balance out.\n\nHe only hoped he would see his friend on the other side, that he would get the chance to explain.\n\nHe laughed, after what he just did they would not meet on the other side.\n\nHe shut his eyes, \"Forgive me my friend.\"", "I know you won't forgive me for what I am about to do. Hell, you don't even know my name yet. But before you judge me, let me tell you something that might make you understand. Its a story from years past. Not really a story per se, but more of a conversation. One that I remember well. It's one that has shaped my entire life and even though they don't know it, the lives of everyone on this planet. It goes like this.\n\nWe sat out on the the front porch drinking our sweet tea listening to the wind flow the the long tall grass. The growing water around the glasses on the new table got us a quick lecture from mom about why we 'can't have nice things'. Dad and I both laughed while she scowled even harder at us. Dad finally apologized and pulled two make shift coasters out of his back pocket. Satisfied, Mom went back inside to work on dinner. It felt like years had gone by before he finally started talking. This was a conversation that he had wanted to have for awhile now it seemed. I sipped my tea and then wiped my hand on my pants as he began.\n\n\"Son, when I was your age my father had this same talk with me. His father did it with him, and so did all those that came before. Now granted they probably didn't have this type of a peaceful setting to sit and relax in while they talked and I know for certain they didn't have any of your mom's tea. But that doesn't change the importance of the message. You see, a man is responsible to the world he lives in. Part of that responsibility is to understand a simple philosophy.\"\n\nHe paused for a bit as we both took sips of our drinks. Our dog, Luna, had begun rolling around in the grass, tongue out and happy as the day we brought her home. After I sat my drink down, I pressed the conversation. \"What is this philosophy, Dad?\"\n\nHe sat his glass down and continued on. \"You have to understand this. There are two sides to every story, son. Now I know right now you think you know everything after only seeing it from your perspective, but that isn't the case. Think about your current situation. I know you think Laira is to blame for your breakup, but you probably haven't considered her side of the story, am I right?\"\n\nAt the time I hadn't, and he could see it in my face. The emotional fog swarming around my head had made me blind to everything else. This was the first time that I became aware of how dangerous our emotions are. Oh those teenage years.\n\n\"There are in fact two sides to every story just as there are two sides to every coin and two parts of each day, light and dark. The same is true for life. There will be good times and there will be bad. There is joy and there is pain. You can't have one without the other. Your mother and I know that fact real well. Now, I wish I could rewind time but what is done is done, we can't change the past. But, there is something we can do and its the reason we have this talk. We can understand that this world, our lives, and the lives of others consist of multiple elements. Friends, family, work, school, all of them consume some part of our day. We have to understand that in order to have a full and complete life, we must balance them appropriately. Balance, my son, is how we sustain the world.\"\n\nPretty deep stuff, right? Now, I know what you are thinking. My dad was trying to spout off some zen bullshit to make me understand that running around on mom was all because his life was out of balance. Not likely. I met the woman, and knowing what I know now, I can't blame him. As far as the talk goes, I don't even know if his dad really gave him the same talk or not. Either way it doesn't matter. What matters is that his misgivings and the need to have that conversation are why I can sit here now, in a stadium rigged to blow on the first encore, with a clear conscience. \n\nYou see, I've been on one side of the coin for too long. I see that now. At first, I thought that fighting to rid the world of conflict was a noble cause. But all we ended up with was a single nation controlling everything and everyone. It's ironic, really, that the end of conflict was coupled with the death of freedom. But I digress. One nation controlling everything in the world isn't balanced. Simple, yes, but balanced, hardly. So, I think it's about time for someone to reset the scales and with about 15 seconds until the big show, I guess my time to swap to the other side of that coin has come. But before I do, let me introduce myself. My name is Styrian Kliev, and I'm the founding member of...\n\nBoom.\n\n \n\n\n\n" ]	2
	[WP] You found a paper with God's number. For fun you texted "Sup?". God just replied with "Not much. You?"	[ "God just texted me back. I can't believe this is really happening. I always had trouble believing in God, but now he's on the line.\n\n[Text from YHWH] Do you know how many people pass up those phone numbers?\n\nI didn't have a clue, so I quickly tapped out a response.\n\n[Text to YHWH]What do you mean?\n\nThe phone buzzed after I sent it. God is really on the ball it seem\n\n[Text from YHWH] It's not just the note with my cell. Every one of those \"For a good time, call...\" numbers in the bathroom stalls is me.\n\n[Text to YHWH] Wait, that's you? I tried calling one of those numbers and I got rerouted to a phone sex line.\n\n[Text from YHWH] You're talking about the one in the truck stop in Pennsylvania, right? The guy who was transcribing the number got the numbers screwed up.\n\nWell, that settled it. Only God knew what I was doing in the truck stop that day and now I really wanted to get to know Him/Her/It/They better.\n\nBefore I could pick up the phone to text again, I got a call from God's number.\n\n\"So, I want to be your buddy. You don't have to worship me. Just treat me like a real person. Consider me when you want to go out after work.\" God pauses for a moment. \"Though stay away from the Hole in the Wall bar on Tuesday. There's going to be a gas leak there.\"\n\n\"Wait, isn't that some kind of prophecy? Won't me knowing about it change the outcome?\" I ask, staring at the phone as if he can see me.\n\n\"My telling you is the outcome. Make sure especially that Caitlyn and Carolyn don't go in. It's not their time to die, and this brush with mortality is what's going to turn their lives around.\"\n\nI take in a sharp breath at what God is saying. Everybody who goes to the Hole in the Wall knows the twins. They come in every other night, buy a couple rounds and retreat to the White Whale motel across the street with a different partner every times. There have been times when I wondered what went wrong with their lives.\n\nGod is giving me a chance to save their lives. But an important question comes to mind. \"I can't tell them you told me about this, can I?\"\n\n\"Well, no. 'A prophet is without honor in his hometown.' It shouldn't be hard to convince them to go to another bar for that night. You'll be saving them from not only an explosion, but from themselves.\" God answers.\n\n\"You just called me a prophet. Is that how this works now? You and I hang out, and you slide me little notes on how to lead people to you?\" I have to admit it's intriguing idea.\n\n\"It doesn't have to be leading them to me. It could be something as simple as snapping them out of depression or giving them a bit of money that helps them make rent that week. If they want to start worshiping me, that's their call. Don't force it. I want you to be my prophet, Dave. Not some bible-thumper on the street corner. There's almost nobody who takes those guys seriously.\"\n\n\"So...\" It seems like an all too silly question, but now I feel like I've gotta ask. \"Do you want to join my bowling league, God?\"\n\n\"Heavens yes, I do.\" God chuckles, and it sounds like a thousand bells ringing in tune. \"But when I join the Honey Badgers, you should probably call me Todd. Wait, I know what you're thinking. The Honey Badgers are already a sausage party. I'll gladly join as Lizzie, your new neighbor. Just make sure that Carl doesn't try to put the moves on me.\"", "\"Sup?\" I texted God.\n\n\"Not much. You?\" God replied.\n\nI sat up in my couch. I had always thought that God never existed. He was the ferry man of my dreams. God was merely a product of my Catholic upbringing, which I had so long ago lost.\n\n\"You're real?\"\n\n\"Yeah, of course. Just cookin' some eggs.\"\n\n\"Cool, so what do you think of the Jews?\"\n\n\"Meh. Just glad they won't take my bacon!\" God laughed at this, thinking it indeed a damn funny joke that was unprecedented in the world before.\n\n\"Can I ask you a favor?\"\n\n\"I guess.\"\n\n\"Can you get me laid?\" It had been a while since I had been laid, and I figured that now was the best opportunity. It was a kind of live prayer.\n\n\"Nope.\"\n\n\"Why not?\"\n\n\"I'm cooking some fuckin' eggs.\"\n\n\"Sorry,\" I replied, via text, of course. The entire conversation happened over text! \"Can I get some eggs, then?\"\n\n\"Sure, yeah.\"", "''Just laying here, chilling'' I replied, biting my lip slightly with piqued interest. Was this real? \n\n''Mmm..sounds exciting, wacha wearing?''\n\nMy heart stopped, this had to be some prankster. I hovered my thumbs above the keyboard that illuminated the wrinkles on my face, scrunched up deep in thought. \n\n''Shouldn't you know? I mean, you're supposedly God and all.'' I texted back, almost being able to feel my heart pulsating against my uvula in anticipation. \n\nI waited. \n\nIt felt long, too long. Was the prankster giving up already? I closed my eyes, resting my forehead against my cell, the radiating heat from the screen felt almost discordant against my skin.\n\nThe phone buzzed twice. \n\nI jumped, thoroughly startled and stared at the text that presented itself. \n\n''I know, I wanted to hear it from you though.. Makes it more fun ya know? If you must be this uncooperative, fine, you're wearing that pair of blue tagless Hanes that your grandmother bought you for Christmas 2 years ago.''\n\nShit.\n\nThe lump in my throat grew, I tried to swallow but felt it stick in my throat like a jolly rancher that had affixed itself to my esophagus. Could this be real? If not, then this was some grade-A stalker shit. Must have been following me for years now. I pulled myself up by the headboard and peered through my bedroom window, half expecting to see some figure looking in. \n\n''It's okay, you don't have any need to worry''\n\nI looked at the new text presenting itself on my screen, and took a slow shuddering breath in. I mean, I had my doubts, but this was starting to look plausible or else jesus fuck this stalker guy was good. \n\n''Can you prove your divinity? '' I pressed send, the torrential downpour of questions running through my mind made my eyes throb, the kind of throbbing I always get before a massive migraine. \n\nMy phone buzzed twice again, this time I didn't jump, my stoicism surprising me. I got this. I took a deep breath as I tried to calm down. \n\nI thought I was prepared, I really did. \n\n''Though shalt not test the Lord thy God.... Ha! Just fucking with ya, here ya go:''\n\nUnderneath was an image, which flooded my phone with the purest light my retinas had ever come in contact with. The color was undescribable, but the figure was clear. It was the most massive cock I had ever seen, one that seemed to bend the fabric of time and space itself as it almost pushed the borders of my phone out past what was possible. \n\n''Impressed? (; ''\n\nMy jaw dropped. \n\nJesus Fucking Christ I thought. The image was definitely proof of him being God himself, that there was no doubt. But... What? My mind spun.. The implications of all this I couldn't seem to wrap my thoughts around. The creator of the universe was like this? I had so many questions though. \n\nI started typing fast. \n\n''Can't say I'm not impressed God, and I do hate to interrupt where you're going with this, but I need to know.. Whats the meaning of life? Why am I here? How can you just sit up there and watch as children in third world countries are dying of starvation, famine and war? How can....''\n\nI didnt finish my text. \n\n''Shhhhhhh''\n\nA voice, not deep and resonating as one would imagine, but lighter and sweetly seductive filled my head space. \n\n''But... '' I stuttered aloud\n\n''All those things.. They're irrelevant.. Don't worry about them. What matters is right here, right now, with me and you.''\n\n''GOD''\n\nI gasped aloud at the sudden feeling within me, a euphoric resonation that made me arch my back. \n\n''Yes please, I love it when you call my name like that.''\n\nThe voice washed over me, as I struggled to control my breathing \n\n''Now just try and relax for me, okay''\n\nI nodded my head slowly, the full reality of the situation was having a hard time of sinking in\n\n''Oh jesus fuck'' I could feel the entirety of my being convulse in ecstacy\n\n''Yes, I'm here too'' I felt a cool touch on my hand as he grasped it\n\nI crossed my legs together, trying to keep my body pinned down on the mattress\n\n''You enjoying this?'' the sweet voice flooded my eardrums\n\nThrough trembling lips I tried to force ''Yes'' out but I realized I didn't need to.. He already knew\n\n''Good, my child, now prepare yourself... That was just the foreplay''\n\nCrunch\n\nI opened my eyes, my toes digging into the crisp grass beneath me, dazzling grass that blanketed itself towards the horizon. Wildflowers and low hanging cypress trees dotted themselves across the landscape. \n\n''Where.. Where am I?'' I asked to the man beside me. His figure seemed to flow in rhythm with the soft breeze. \n\n''Oops.. My bad'' He mumbled, looking surprised. Adjusting his composure, he coughed slightly, correcting himself and taking my hands in his ''You're in heaven now child, with me''\n\n''Oh..'' I looked around slowly, and stared back in the universe of his eyes. I smiled. ''I don't mind''" ]	3
	[WP] There's a haunted house attraction in your hometown. You don't know it's really haunted until you get recruited for it.	[ "The Maryville Morbid Morgue Mansion popped up every year in an abandoned warehouse, just far enough away from the suburbs to entice kids, and with enough parking space for our little town's entire fleet of minivans. I scoffed at the banner, covered in cartoon bats. Was it a morgue or a mansion? And this wasn't even Maryville.\n\nI shouldn't have cared anyway, I just needed a short term special effects job to build my makeup portfolio. Outside of the random unpaid film project, this was the best opportunity out there, even if the Maryville Morbid Morgue Mansion characters were always a strange mix not much scarier than a typical crowd of trick-or-treaters. My dream was to leave for Hollywood and work on real movies. But no one seemed to know how to contact the folks running the Maryville Morbid Morgue Mansion. \n\n\"Sorry kid,\" drawled the man at the City Clerk's desk. \"It's just registered under 'Maryville Morbid Morgue Mansion, C Corp' from out of state. They probably bring in their own folks. Anyway, did you hear Barbra Nowak down the street needs some makeup help at the salon? There are some November weddings coming up soon...\"\n\n\"Ugh no. I do special effects--\" I sighed. \"Nevermind, I'll find it somehow. Thanks anyway.\"\n\nA few days later, a day before the official First Day (Half Price Admissions!) at Maryville Morbid Morgue Mansion, I got my answer. \n\nI died in a horrific car crash. My mediocre Tinder date was the driver, and probably had more alcohol than he should have while reassuring me he was fine--trying to impress me, I realized with painful exasperation, after I saw my own mangled body in the wreck.\n\nI stuck around my body for a shorter amount of time than I would have imagined. It was unnerving watching Mediocre Tinder Date flail around my body, mumbling to himself about CPR when my chest was no longer there. When I heard the EMTs talk about phoning my family, I left. \n\nI floated down a few streets, coming to the realization that there were no other ghosts around. Maybe this was my own Hell?\n\nAs I passed Maryville Morbid Morgue Mansion, I saw a sign that definitely wasn't there before:\n\nYOU HEY YOU! DID YOU JUST DIE? COME IN!\n\nIt looked like it had been written by a kid. \n\n\"Ah, it's probably part of the decorations...\" I whispered to myself. \"Maybe.\"\n\nOut of curiosity I floated in through the very solid front door. A crowd of Halloween characters crowded around a bright green zombie character, who was going through a checklist. Maryville Morbid Morgue Mansion always had an eclectic selection of creatures, ranging from Halloween-Store-premium-variety Frankenstein monsters to bedsheet ghosts.\n\nThe neon green zombie looked up at me--at me. I was shocked. \n\n\"Genevieve Park. Welcome. We need to give you an assignment.\"\n\nI felt like I fell out of the air. \"How do you know my name? How--how can you see me?\"\n\n\"We're Maryville Morbid Morgue Mansion, C Corp. We are officially a Cursed Corporation under the governing body of the recently dead.\" The zombie had on a pair of glasses--the kind with plastic eyeballs attached to springs. \"I am the director of this branch of the ghost job assignment service, and I'm here to find a task for you before we host our annual open house this year.\"\n\n\"Branches? So there's more than one of these?\" I was increasingly stunned. \"And--you're all dead?\"\n\n\"Of course. It's a haunted house, after all. Do you know how many ghosts are needed to man these?\" The zombie seemed a little impatient. \"This is the biggest night of the year for us. We have smaller gigs around the world throughout the year--Oban, Zaduszki, stuff like that. I particularly like eating well on Qingming. But right now it's Halloween, and our responsibility as a global community of ghosts is to scare.\"\n\nHe grabbed a bedsheet laying nearby. \"You came a bit last minute, so you can put this on.\"\n\nI looked around. I could just faintly make out the ghosts underneath some of the costumes, and had the vague sense that I wouldn't have been able to see the ghosts at all if I was alive. Hence, why they were all covered from head to toe with fabric, rubber, or makeup.\n\n\"I--I'm new to this, but if I can be honest, I think you all could use just a little help with the 'scaring' part. I happen to be a special effects makeup artist.\" I grinned. \"I specialize in gore, by the way.\"\n\nThe zombie tapped his pen on his clipboard, and flipped to a page. \"Our scaring has slipped in the last few...years.\"\n\n\"Decades,\" a little witch piped up. The zombie frowned down at her.\n\n\"I can't get you any more makeup materials than what we already have here--I submit these budgets a year in advance. But we welcome your skills,\" he said, extending his hand. \"Please make us scare-worthy.\"\n\nAnd that was how I landed my dream job." ]	1
	[wp] an immortal goes on a killing spree to try and end their life.	[ "\"I don't know who it was that romanticised immortality. I don't know who it was that made immortality appear to be a gift. Whoever they were, I loathe them, I despise them. Immortality is nothing but a curse. At the beginning, when I first became immortal. It was cool, fun even. Then I saw all those I loved butchers before my eyes, all because the Government wanted to know how I became immortal and I refused to tell them. They butchered them! That was the day that immortality went from being fun and cool to being something I loathe. I've tried endlessly to kill myself over the years, to end this miserable existence of mine and that's how we ended up here.\" Natalya stood from her crouch and stretched her muscles out. The hostage at her feet looked at her much like you would at an insane person. She kept her eyes locked on Natalya's twin handguns.\n\n\"Now! Everyone. I'm sorry to tell you. But it's unlikely any of you will be coming out of this alive. It's nothing personal against any of you, rather you should blame the Government.\" She raised her left hand and shot the hostage kneeling at her feet in the head. The room erupted in a barrage of screams. \"QUIET!\" Her shout echoed throughout the bank. The hostages all fell silent simultaneously. \"I said it was unlikely, there is still a chance that you're going to make it out alive. At the very least. One,\" She raised her gun in the air. \"One of you will survive. To tell the world why I did this. Which one of you will it be I wonder?\" She looked around the room, scanning each of the hostages. That was when she noticed one of the hostages in the back, hiding behind another one. Quickly she made her way over to them. She pointed at the hostage that was trying to hide. \n\n\"You. What's your name?\" The hostage shook her head side to side. \"Answer me.\" She pressed her gun against the hostages head. \"Alexander, ma'am.\" Natalya smiled broadly and removed the gun from her forehead. \"You look just like her. Like, my daughter. Alex, you get to survive. Please exit the bank.\" Alexander stared up at Natalya with a mixture of thankfulness and regret, she continued to hide behind the other hostage. \"No. I will not.\"\n\nNatalya's face grew confused. \"Why will you not leave? This is your chance to survive.\" Alexander hugged the hostage she was hiding behind. \"I will not leave because I will not let my sister die alone.\" Natalya sighed and a small smile spread across her face. \"Then you may both go.\" Both Alexander and her sister nodded, stood and hurried to the doors, finding them locked. Natalya walked over, opened the doors and pushed them out before closing them again.\n\n\"Now. That's been solved. Let's get to business.\" She raised her guns and began firing, she didn't stop until both slides on her guns locked back. The space around her feet was peppered with spent shell casings, gunpowder filled the air and blood painted the walls and floor of the once pristine bank. The pure white marble was now stained red with the blood of over 40 people. In the middle of all the chaos stood Natayla. She knelt, placed her guns on the ground and waited for the authorities to storm the building." ]	1
	[WP] She's the girl next door. She's always the girl next door.	[ "Wednesday\n------------\n\n21:10\n\nIt's hard being so close to a girl that will never love you. Who has your heart, but you'll never have hers. That's Rebecca, the fifteen year old blonde haired goddess next door. She lives with her parents in the huge yellow house that's far too big for the three of them. I reckon they planned on having more children but something went wrong. It's for the best anyway, her parents are tools. I think they beat her -- I've seen bruises on her legs before! One day i'm going to set her free.\n\nI'm a decent looking guy. I'm a nice guy. She should like me. I'm smart too -- loads going for me. Her parents must have turned her against me at some point, 'cause they knew I'd change her. Make her see them for what they really are.\n\nShe's gone to bed early tonight. Think I'll turn in. Arms are tired from holding the binoculars anyway. \n\nThursday\n----------\n\n20:05 \n\nShe's not back yet. I couldn't have missed her, I haven't left the window all evening. Nope, couldn't have missed her. My piss bottle's almost full and starting to stink. Hope she gets home soon.\n\n20:52\n\nFucking nine o'clock... and there's someone with her. Holy shit, Mike. As if I don't get enough problems at school from the asshole, now he's trying to take my girl. No fucking way. If they kiss...\n\n\nFriday\n-------\n\nI will have her heart. It belongs to me not Mike.\n\n\nSaturday\n-------\n\nHer parents are out tomorrow night with mine. It's my chance to make a grand gesture. I can win her over.\n\n\n\nSunday\n-------\n\nFUCK FUCK FUCK. She made me do it. SHE MADE ME.\n\nWell, she'll always be the girl next door now. The girl that never ages. The girl that lies under 4 foot of dirt. I finally have her heart. I wish it felt more satisfying. \n" ]	1
	[WP] While everyone else finds someone who completes them, you find someone who cancels you out...	[ "Vin stared into the bottom of his drink, watching the ice melt. He brought the glass up to his lips, fishing for a stray drop of bourbon. Upon finding only water, he set it back down on the counter and let out a dramatic sigh. \"It's useless,\" he said, just loud enough to pierce through din in the bar. In his periphery, nobody reacted, neither the pretty blonde to his left nor the striking redhead to his right. Vin sighed again, this time with sincerity. His drunken fingers twitched and upset the glass, spilling melted ice onto the bar.\n\n\"If you wanted another drink, all you had to do was ask.\" Wanja stormed up to Vin, armed with a rag, and in three wipes made the mess vanish. As Vin opened his wallet, noise besieged his inebriated senses. Moments passed that weren't saved to memory. When he came to, he found himself with a refilled drink and ten missing dollars. Three seats down, Hurricane Wanja was ravaging another patron's billfold. Vin wondered what he had missed, then remembered everything was still useless. He shrugged and lapped at his bourbon, receding into the bar once more.\n\n\"Hey, Wanga...\" Vin flagged down the bartender as she blew past. His tongue fought through invisible cotton to force the words out. \"Give a regular a discount, why don't you?\" He held up his third empty glass of the night.\n\n\"No can do,\" she said, whisking it away before he dropped it, \"I don't set the prices.\"\n\n\"Come on, girl.\" Vin groaned as an anxiety roiled in his stomach, pushing through his drunken stupor. It was clear, sober, and unwelcome, a reminder that he had spent half his day's paycheck in the three hours proceeding it. The feeling expanded inside of him, threatening to swallow him back into the present, and Vin found himself needing but lacking an anchor. Seeing no sympathy in Wanja's eyes, he sighed and fished for his wallet. \"Give me another.\"\n\nAs she poured, Vin stared at her braid. It swung teasingly with each slight movement. \"You're a beautiful girl, Wanga.\"\n\nWanja smiled without looking up. She set the drink onto the coaster with more force than usual, splashing stray drops of liquor onto the bar. As she wiped them away, Vin continued, \"I want someone to complete me. I want you to—\"\n\n\"Sir, I'm flattered, but I'll have to ask you to stop right there.\" Wanja looked up, her lips pursed in a half-frown. \"Please, just enjoy your drink.\"\n\nVin saw her trying to tear away from the scene. He knew that if she did, she would never come back, not until last call. \"Why?\" His hand stammered forward, feeling its way across the bartop, reaching out for Wanja or maybe his drink. \"Why not me?\" \n\nVin twitched and once again spilled his drink. The mess was a real mess this time, brown, ugly, and sticky. This time, his neighbors noticed; they craned their necks over the bar, then turned away with whispers and giggles. Vin slipped further into his drunkenness, allowing it to numb his embarrassment, and dropped his head into his lap, waiting silently as Wanja uprighted the glass and attacked the spill with her rag. It disappeared as quickly as the last, leaving no trace behind.\n\nWanja bustled away without a word or a backwards glance, leaving Vin to stew in the futility of it all. He remained still for a few seconds longer, then finally looked up. Wanja had shifted to the other end of the bar and was filling drinks from the fountain. Vin's gaze lingered until the longing became too much, and with a sigh, he turned back to his glass. To his surprise, it was magically full again. He hadn't even noticed Wanja had refilled it." ]	1
	[WP] you're trying to complete a writing prompt but keep get distracted	[ "I'm gonna write the best writing prompt ever. Maybe about aliens, or time travel or hell. Ooh this is going to be a good one. \nJust need to word it ok...\n\"[WP] A mysterious tall gray stranger knocks on your door one day and tells you to follow him to help shut the gates of Hell in Sunnydale\"\n\nHmm, that one sounds a bit cliché. But wait until I come up with a good writing prompt. It will get 5000 comments. The stories from it will be made into books and films. I can picture it now - sitting at the Oscar's getting thanked by the new Best Script Writer for this prompt. Living it big in Las Vegas, TV interviews, exclusive magazine deals - that will be my life. \n\nHow about:\n[WP] The first alien ship has finally landed. As the doors open you are shocked to see your old dog, Scruffy, run out.\n\nNot sure about this one either. But the reddit writers can figure out a story for it. Maybe Steven King will see the prompt and decide to write a story about it. That will work nicely! It will get front page. Wait - I'll even get Reddit gold!! This is going to be the best day ever. \n\nMan, coming up with a writing prompt is harder than it looks. What to do? I know why not let Redditors come up with the prompt? Vegas here I come!\n\n[WP] you're trying to complete a writing prompt but keep get distracted" ]	1
	[wp]You recently moved to a new town. And although everything seems normal, one thing isn't. Everyone is constantly smiling. Whilst sleeping, at a funeral - they are always smiling. And those who stop seem to be disappearing...and you want to find out why.	[ "My family moved to a new town called SunnySide Hills. It was due to my father who stationed at a nearby military base. \n\nBefore we got inside the gated community, we saw a ten year old boy. He urged us to turn back now. However, a single resident shooed him away, before letting us in.\n\nWhen we got there, everybody was smiling, and they seemed very happy. They welcomed us with a huge party, with people of all ages being present. They gave us funny tasting hamburgers as well. \n\nHowever, my father did not enjoy this huge amount of happiness. He saw the world as a dark place, as he had seen many of his own friends die right before his eyes. One day, he just vanished without a trace. Me and my mother asked everybody about his appearance.\nThey said that they were concerned, but their smiles never faded off of their faces. I started to get scared, as my face slowly began to stop smiling. My mother got frustrated with the town, and she got outraged at everybody. A man said that she out to calm down and accept the 'truth', but she would not comply. I soon felt myself be knocked out, as they dragged her away, screaming.\n\nWhen I woke up, I saw some teenagers, with a boy around my age standing nearby. He introduced himself as Clyde, and that he was a part of 'The Truth-Seekers' It turns out that the residents of SunnySide Hills were obsessed with happiness, and that they literally anybody who did not want to be as happy as they were. I then realized what was really inside of the hamburgers.", "I hear a knock on the door. \"Mike? Are you sleeping?\" \"No.\" I respond. The door opens and a tiny head peaks through. It's my little sister. \"What's the matter Ally? Can't sleep?\" \"Yes. I don't like this place.\" she says as she comes in. \"Why? People are so nice and kind to us. You know it could be a lot worse.\" She sighs and lays next to me \"Yeah, but they are too kind. It feels insincere.\" I know exactly how she feels. I felt that too. I got nosy, asking around about what's going on. But I got to the truth. And now I know, that there are only two options: living in blissful ignorance and happiness or knowing the truth and be forced to smile. I hugged little Ally and said \"Don't worry, it's just your imagination playing tricks on you. And if you ever feel like something is wrong, come to me. I will make it right.\" She closed her eyes mumbling something like \"Thanks Mike.\" \"No problem,\" I whispered as she fell asleep, \"Smile now, you will feel better.\" " ]	2
	[WP] You have always had terrible eyesight, so when an experimental medication to treat it comes along, you sign right up. It works great, but slowly you realise that your ability to see is increasing without bound.	[ "Dark, muddled lines contrast a stark, white background. Squinting, I can barely distinguish separate sentences on the bottle.\n\n\"Use your glasses, Jim.\" Helen interjected. \"The pills might work, but you've gotta take them first.\"\n\nAfter sending a sarcastic glance to my wife, I lift silver-framed spectacles to my nose. While still somewhat blurred, the minuscule font on the translucent orange bottle grew much more distinct. While I read the text aloud, Helen started the car. \"Take one capsule by mouth twice daily for thirty days, until all taken. Visipair, one hundred and twenty-five milligram capsules.\" As I begin to peruse the side-effects, Helen speaks up.\n\n\"Do you think those will work?\"\n\n\"They damn well better. It wasn't covered by our insurance, and they aren't cheap.\" A particular phrase from the various list of ailments possible catches my interest. I squint at it, as if observing it more clearly will reveal some hidden meaning. \"Hyperacute ocular development, isn't that what we want?\" Mulling over the issue, I determine to swallow the first dose from the container.\n\nHelen barely approaches a mumble as she exits the pharmacy parking lot. \"Well, after the optometrist said your eyesight was only going to get worse, and Lasik wasn't even on the table.\" She paused to catch a glimpse of me while steering the car down the street. \"I'm just happy that they started trials for this Visipair stuff.\"\n\nGrunting in half-hearted agreement, I gulped the pill down with a swig of water, then took another swallow just to be sure it didn't catch in my throat. I always hated medications, but as one grows older, it seems it becomes more of a daily chore.\n\nUpon arriving home, I wander around back as Helen beelines to the front door, arms laden with bags. It would seem she doesn't want it known how much she spent while I was in the eye clinic. Being in a good mood, I let it slide. After all, not only was I no longer losing my eyesight, but I might have perfect vision by the end of the- \"Ooomph!\" I yawp as my chest meets concrete. As I gather my aging wits I hear Helen approaching rapidly. \n\n\"Are you okay, Jim?!\" she yells, frightened by my situation. \"You tripped on the weed-whacker; I told you to put that thing away!\" Helen's words suddenly became chastising. I wasn't giving her any mind however, as I was trying to figure out what was wrong with my spectacles. One lens had cracked in the tumble, but the other had grown foggy.\n\nAs I remove my glasses from my face to clean them, I couldn't find the pesky smudge. The silver and glass shone with spectacular clarity in the mid-day sun. The glasses hadn't fogged at all, rather they kept me from seeing clearly all of a sudden. \n\n[If anyone in interested in a continuation, let me know. I haven't written in quite a while, and I doubt it worth a second part. Thanks for reading anyhow!]" ]	1
	[WP] Write a story about a serial killer posing as a xylopolist who kills his victims through tyrotoxism.	[ "\"Allow me to be off base here, for a sec, would ya?\" the rookie cop said, to the serial killer in back. They were sitting in him and his partner's squad car. His partner was just outside the driver-side door, talking to HQ through a walkie-talkie.\n\n\"I wood...\"\n\n\"Ok. Why go around telling people you wanna sell them lumber? Couldn't you have come up with a better story? I mean, I buy and use wood occasionally, but I would never take someone up on their offer if they just came to my door, asking me if I wanted to buy some. Wood's more of a spur of the moment thing; don't ya think?\"\n\nThe serial killer wanted to fold his arms, but they were behind his back, and his wrists were manacled. \"I always tell 'em I have good rates,\" he said. \"Besides, I can be a fine salesman, when I want to be.\"\n\n\"Yeah, I'm not doubting any of that. I'm just saying, when you need wood for a project, or whatever, you usually just go and buy it, then. Wood weighs a lot, and takes up a lot of space, so I doubt lots of people just stockpile that shit, just in case they would ever have a use for it. And...you say that you're a good salesman, but didn't you hit that lady up there, when she asked you if you would give her a senior discount? That doesn't sound like best xylopolist practices, to me!\"\n\nThe serial killer ground his teeth. \"No senior discounts. Fuckin' old hag, always wanting to suck society's tits...\"\n\nThe rookie looked at the serial killer in the rearview mirror, who was frothing to himself, just as his partner opened the driver-side door and slipped behind the wheel. \"HQ told us to wait here a while,\" he said, \"so I went ahead and got you something.\"\n\nThe partner handed a danish over to the rookie.\n\n\"Thanks,\" the rookie said, \"What kind is it?\"\n\n\"Cheese,\" the partner said.\n\nThe serial killer looked at the back of the partner's head, with a malevolent grin on his lips, as the rookie took a bite, then screamed these final, blood-curdling words: \"Not tyrotoxism! Anything but tyrotoxism!\"" ]	1
	[WP] You decide to write letter to yourself for you to open in 5 years. much to your shock and disbelief, the next day you find your future self has written back	[ "I didn't think much of it when my teacher, Mrs.Ferguson, assigned us another trivial task. \"These will make you think back at all the good times you had!\" She would say. There is nothing about High school that I want to remember. From all the jocks beating me up to getting rejected by females, I was happy to know that I would graduate and this miserable life in school would be over. But then I got an idea, what if I make this letter my suicide note. I mean my life isn't going to get better after high school so why not go out with a band and leave Mrs.Ferguson wishing she never had given us this assignment. Yeah that's what I do. I'll show just how horrible of a teacher she is with this one last assignment. It will be late so she'll have to take 10 points off but what difference will it make. So I get to writing saying stuff like \"Dear future me, 5 years from now you will be nothing but a stinky, decayed pile of bones.\" I thought this was the perfect way to go so I put it in the mail.,my teacher told us to mail them to her so she could hold on to them for us and reveal them at our 5 year reunion. I decide that tomorrow will be the perfect day to end it so I get the rope set up in my closet and go to sleep. The next day at school was a blur, all my classes were just the same old repetitive lecture and my history teacher even yelled at me because I wasn't \"applying myself to the discussion.\" Or some stupid stuff like that. I get home and watch some TV and got to the kitchen to get something to eat, don't want to die on an empty stomach. Being that this is my last meal, I pull out the best of what we have and decide to make a marvelous feast. Grilled cheese and some fruit snacks is pretty satisfying. That is when I see it. It's golden stamp protruding from the paper like some sort of futuristic hologram. I walk over to the piece of mail that has me captivated it and examine it. \"To Chris\" it says and it's from \"Chris\" I think that this is completely insane but I open it none the less. \"Dear Chris I am happy to say that you are not dead but you are in fact, well me!\" This can't be true. I keep reading\"I know that I,or you for that matter, planned on committing suicide today, with that old history teaching yelling about participation or some nonsense but I'm here to tell you that you shouldn't do it. How are you supposed to trust me right?Well I'm you from the future and I don't know how to prove it except maybe, how else would I have know this was the day otherwise. You just sent the letter yesterday and it wouldn't have gotten there yet so the only way for me to know is for me to be you. I know this is a lot to take In but you just have to hang in there. Your life is worth so much and in the future I've learned that you are so privileged to be white and born in America because there is so much hate going on and the world just needs some love but before you can love others, you must love your own life. I'm telling, no I'm begging you to go on because your impact is going to be felt all around the world. You might not become famous but you have a wife that loves you and a child on the way who is going to be born in the most privileged nation in the world. So please consider this message and take down that rope but keep it as a reminder that you had the power to say no. Please, do this for your family right now and for the family you have in the future. \nYours truly, Chris\nP.s hang out with Angelina a little bit more, she might be interested in you.\n\nI didn't know what to think. Could this be true?? If he really was from the future then he would stop the rope from killing me and there is only one way to find out." ]	1
	[wp] you have the ability to freeze time. Everyone, and everything freezes. You just froze time, and you see someone moving around	[ "Most people, if they had a supernatural ability, would probably use it for the gain of money, or assets. Maybe a small percent would use it for the greater good. But me? While I had the power to freeze time, I mostly used it to get to places on time – namely work and university. Yes, yes, I know I could just steal. And yes, I know I don't even need a job. But that's besides the point. \n\nAnyways, I had a crippling habit of waking up just a couple of minutes before I needed to get to class. Because of who I am as a person, I was always late. For everything. I couldn't tell you how excited I was to discover my ability – my first thought was how I'll never be late again...unless it was intentional. \n\nI woke up late as usual...this time with minutes to spare before 9am. Concentrating, I froze time like I did every day. People stopped mid-movement. Cars stopped abruptly. Birds remained suspended in mid air. All atmospheric noise cut off, leaving behind a thick blanket of silence within my small flat. Grateful for the stillness, I rubbed my temples to relieve my headache and headed out to the shared bathroom just down the hall. \n\nI rubbed the sleep from my eyes as I opened the bathroom door, sitting down with a sigh to do my morning business. As I reached for the toilet paper, I sensed movement from the corner of my eye. Startled, I inhaled sharply as I frantically stood and did my pants up, accidentally snagging myself on the zipper. My eyes watered and I bit my tongue to stifle the shout of pain. I spun in a quick turn, hearing my neck crick as I tried to catch the moving figure in the mirror. \n\nFuck. It was my reflection." ]	1
	[WP] After endless wars across the years due to different religions, people finally find out where God left his final message to his creation. It's not quite what they expected.	[ "The pair couldn't believe their eyes as they stared at the results on the screen. \n\nTheir minds were both reeling, frantic and thready. The silence in the room only broken by the ragged breaths. \n\nThis wasn't a forgery, there could be no mistake. This couldn't be a hoax, and they were the first to view these images. No technicians or other 'wise guys' had any kind of access. Nor would anyone want to; The small team was composed only of dedicated professionals, all who would balk at the thought the defacing such a priceless artifact. \n\nFinally, she said the words. \"Run it again.\"\n\nThey both knew that was impossible. The scroll was unreadable, and putting it through the photonic inflation chronoscope meant the objects destruction. \n\nThey both knew this was the only run, on the only copy. But what they saw before them was so impossible, that maybe another run in the machine would fix it.\n\n\"We cant\", the young man replied, \"We cant.\"\n\n\"We cant publish..\" she waved her hand \"we cant publish this rubbish either. We'd be mad to try.\"\n\nThe pair stared at the screen knowing their careers were over. \n\nThe true writings of Christ The Man, the scroll lost to humanity for over two millennia, gone once again. The finding that would have made their careers, just ended it. \n\nLeft unto humanity, the Lords direct line of contact. His Divine Word, a hyperlink to exactly what direction He meant for us.\n\nwww.timecube.com", "The war had ended. Most of humanity was wiped out. No one was the winner. Small bands of humanity found each other wandering the wasteland, and eventually settled in a remote location, somewhere in a place once named ‘Texas’. The settlement was small at first, 20 or so people banding together to build a better life in the wastes of post-war. The settlement grew, and this brought more and more people together. A few moons later, the settlement was two or three thousand people. Schools were built and such. After a few more years, people forgot the war and what surrounded it. Everyone followed Christianity, and agreed on a consensus that one with bright orange hair would be chosen to show everyone the future.\n20 years after the initial settlement, a child was born with bright green eyes. He grew up and became one of the leaders of our society, becoming incredibly intelligent throughout this time. One day, the now grown man went to walk slightly outside the settlement, the travel turned to miles and miles. He was eventually found praying in front of an old building, clutching what he whispered to the people who found him was the “new word of the Lord.” \nThe small piece of paper that he clutched read only a few words, “Dick Out For Harambe.”\n", "Oftentimes there becomes a point where theology clashes with archaeology or science. It always gets... Messy. Evolution came around and the discovery of fossils a million years old, and it clashes with the idea that the world is a couple thousand years old. Theory of gravity and heliocentric theories makes Earth no longer the center of the universe. I am going to be entirely honest, when some nut-job posing as an archaeologist said the true final message from the one true god was left in the center of the moon, I didn't believe him, and neither did many people. But what can I say? His pay is good, he has the funding, and he has a plan. So yeah sure, I will spend the next couple years on the moon overlooking his mining project or whatever. Not like it is going to find anything anyway right?\n\nThat was... Three? Three years ago. I had been living out on this moon-base mostly in solitude. I get video messages from loved ones back on earth, send them back too. Mostly I keep myself entertained by doing real research for my boys back home. We have learned about as much about our moon in this three year expedition as they did during the entire space race. Exploring the moon's surface is also great fun! I could do that for a few more years. but.... Our expedition is coming to a close as our robots uncovered a... Device... In the center of our moon... I saw them dig it up, it wasn't placed there by any human that is for sure. \n\nJokingly I called it the worlds oldest Easter-egg since the device is somewhat egg shaped. Now I was cautious about it at first, for all I know it is some alien bomb set up to crash the moon into our planet if we act up against a force we don't even know exists or not. Eventually I took it back into my bunker and started tinkering with it. Showed it to the boss and he said the mission was over and he was sending my getaway plan to pick me up. Right now it is on it's way, still about a day out. I need to prepare a bit more and get into orbit in about eight hours... but...\n\nWhatever this thing is, I got it to speak. After fiddling with it a bit I shouted in frustration and it apparently recognized my voice and started speaking. I can remember everything it said, word for word. My memory isn't that good, but I had a recording from the surveillance footage that I re-listened to over and over again.\n\n\"English recognized. play back successfully translated: Is it on now? is- yeah? Hello intelligent being! Hi, wow it seems like it has been forever since we last spoke, how have ya been? No no that is terrible can we do over? ... Well I can't leave that in! ... Fine fine. Listen, I know things are, lets call it complicated between you and me. If you haven't guessed, yes I am the person who created everything in your universe, and in my universe you were more of a... how do I put this... a side project. Some stuff happened and I ended up creating a universe with life in it and due to... Legal reasons lets say, I can't shut it off at this stage. I have done a few still within bounds things to get rid of the life on earth but it just... You guys are persistent I will give you that. Well I am leaving this message because you will have been the smartest beings created in this universe and, being so intelligent and powerful in your own way you will have the ability to...\n\nOkay I am going to play it straight, I need to shut this universe down. It has been using to much of my resources for to long. I want to move on but I can't. Now it doesn't have to be a genocide, but I need you to get rid of all life in this universe, which should just be on earth and whatever other planets you have inhabited by now. They don't have to die, they just can't reproduce, then they will die of age or whatever. There aren't any consequences if you don't, I am asking as your creator, as the one who gave you life I ask you now to take it away... That sounds grim can we cut that part? ... Oh and you will be given eternal glory in the after life. whatever. Hey cut the recording, we have to-\" And it ended. the device grew dark and never spoke again.\n\nI sat here, carefully listening to every word, every sentence, every pause. An accident? We weren't supposed to exist at all? What is with the legal restrictions? who is restricting god? He can't be serious about that after life part, he knows we are just going to die, surely. I have only questions and no answers. That is why I am sending this back to earth. Everyone needs to know the creators final words, unaltered and unfiltered. I don't know if I should return to earth or just die here." ]	3
	[WP] "You can have time or you can have money. You will never have both."	[ "It's been a long time that I have given up hope for better control of this. At first I blieved that I obtained some kind of super power. To everyone else looking in I was focused on work. When others saw me I was a shark eating his way through wall street and not a thing could stop me. You put a cage around that deal like divers in the ocean? Yeah I can chew through that. The money just flooded in, all I had to do was set the goal.\n\nThe way that I experienced it was a little less fulfilling. When I was growing up on the my first DVD player there was a fast forward setting that was barely worth having. Once you pressed that button the pictures would fly by just a hair quicker and the sound disappeared. If you changed your mind to stop it would still go for another second or so for whatever reason. I don't know exactly how it worked or why it did that but that's how it feels for me.\n\nOne day when I was twenty-three and out of college I said \"I wish I had one-hundred grand to pay for all this!!\" and it was like I was a prisoner in myself going through the motions. Finally it's five years later and I have an apartment in New York. Quickly I accessed the online banking app on my phone. Not quite the amount I had wished for but doing some quick math it added up after my debts, in auto pilot I must have paid the bills, including the expenses of living in New York which really isn't cheap at all. I tried to not freak out and think things rationally, clearly I had special powers. Most people wouldn't find that rational but it was the only explanation. I worked on piecing my life together and understanding what had happened. Friends and Family thought I had become a distant money hungry monster that couldn't bother to keep in touch with them. Apparently anything that distracted me from money couldn't be allowed.\n\nSo I started reading as much as I could on the internet and even in libraries in an attempt to find out what was going on with me but my money dried up fast. As I said it wasn't cheap to live here. So I tried thinking back to my last clearest memory before I auto-piloted to becoming a hustler. What if I thought bigger and made sure I had enough money to never need more?\n\n\"I wish I had about fifty million.\"\n\nIt was about ten years. Felt like some special hell for watching a home movie in a point of view format. But it was worth it, I came to at breakfast in a luxury hotel. Room service on a silver platter. There was a laptop that happened to have my accounts open, all the money was there. Apparently I had become some kind of entrepreneur for companion smart drones or something? Like I said I see what's happening but it's missing some context. \n\nStepping out of bed I slipped my feet into fuzzy brown slippers that felt like there was red carpet on the inside. Now that I was plenty rich I could take the rest of my life doing whatever I wanted, why even bother learning the mysteries of this? \n\nIt wasn't long until the conference phone began to ring. At first I wanted to disregard it, get outside and drive my sports car. But I figured I would learn a little more about this life I'm living so I picked it up. The ever diligent assistant of mine told me about who was arriving on time and who was running late for the emergency meeting today. She reminded me how important this was and the impending deadline on our new pitch or else we'd lose funding, sponsors, and have to spend more than all of our money on severance packages after letting employees go. Somehow I got the sinking feeling that I was about to lose all of my money.\n\nWalking over to the mini-bar I tried to get myself a drink and think things over. The phone rang but I let it go to voice mail. This guy is screaming at me to get out of bed or he'll cut me out of a deal and make the new crazy homeless guy in the streets.\n\nEver since then I had experimented with different amounts. Different times and lifestyles. Whatever amount I choose, I seem to be using all my income so that when I exit auto-pilot I am just about to spend it all on bills or debts. If I am not perpetually working I am not making money. \n\nI'm not sure how much time has passed or how old I am anymore. I might have seen a \"Happy fourty years!\" birthday cake at a corporate office but for all I know that's how long I've been with the company, don't think I even had a slice." ]	1
	[WP] When calling in to win on a popular radio program, you miss being Caller 9 by one call. But as Caller 10, it turns out you just won something better...	[ "\"Fuck it!\"\n\nI looked at the phone in my hand. It was 30 minutes left until the concert started and I missed my chance on the last-minute pass, that would have allowed me to just walk straight in. Tonight was the last Kent would play, and I were now doomed to never see my favorite band play live. I felt my eyes starting to water.\n\n\"You too?\"\n\nI turned around to see who said it. Behind me stood a a woman, she was tall, had short spiky hair and red lipstick. \n\n\"Number eight here\"\n\nThe woman waved with her phone, and smiled the most beautiful and sad smile I've ever seen. I tear rolled down my cheek. \n\n\"Ten...\"\n\nMy voice failed me, but I didn't say anything more in fear of starting to cry really hard. The woman took two steps closer and gently wiped away my tear with her sleeve. She still smiled at me.\n\n\"Hey, don't cry, you'll ruin your mascara. I'm Amanda.\"\n\n\"I'm Emma, thank you!\"\n\nAmanda handed me a small mirror and I dug through my purse in search of my makeup. I fixed the damage, it was nothing much, but enough. I gave the mirror back to Amanda and we walked up to the fence. If I couldn't watch Kent play, I would at least get to listen to them. Amanda stood next to me, leaning against the fence. She put one arm around me and started singing my favorite Kent song. I joined in, and we sung song after song together.\n\nSuddenly the crowds inside the fence started cheering and screaming, followed by the first song. Me and Amanda froze, I felt my heart stop and race at the same time. Amanda got a smug smile on her lips. She looked me straight in the eyes.\n\n\"Let's climb the fence!\"\n\n\"I'm too short!\"\n\n\"No problem, I'll help you\"\n\nAmanda grabbed my hand and dragged me around the corner of the fence, away from the security people. Just around the corner we stopped, looked at each other and after a small nod bent down. I stepped in her hand and she lifted me high up on the fence. I got one leg over the top, and then started to climb over. Amanda backed up a few meters, ran and jumped as high up as she could. She managed to get one hand hand at the top. My jaw dropped, she was amazing.\n\nOver on the other side I grabbed her hand again, and together we sneaked behind some tents. It was an outdoors concert and we were at the far back of the place. Cars and vans were parked around the tents. The people working seemed to be more interested in looking at the band than keeping track of people. Not that we complained. \n\nAmanda pointed at a bus. Next to the bus were a van and I understood what she meant. We got up to it, looked around and then Amanda helped me up on the roof. When I was up I helped Amanda by dragging her up. Same thing with the bus. From the bus we got a good view, the band was a bit small, but their big screen was good enough. \n\nWe sat down next tot each other on the roof. I smiled, Amanda smiled even more. This was amazing. My favorite song started playing, I stared at the scene until I felt a hand touch my cheek. I looked at Amanda, her face was so close I could smell her shampoo. We kissed while listening to a mix of Kent and the security guards yelling at us to get down from the roof.\n\nI was in love." ]	1

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