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[WP] You are given the opportunity to pick a different animal as an evolutionary ancestor of humanity. Major world events will not have changed. Only one in a million people will notice the change.
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"An old man in a tattered, black cloak approached me one day. \"You, girl. You have a choice to make.\" He says in a raspy voice. 'Great, another weirdo' I think to myself. \"You may decide the past. What creature shall be the ancestor to all of mankind.\" Surely this old man was crazy, off his medication or something. \"I don't know, fish? I like swimming.\" I shrugged, trying to get this old man away, fearing he'd get upset if I didn't answer his question. \"So be it, when the clock strike twelve all will change. Mankind will be decedents of fish. So it be.\" The old man walked off, humming softly to himself. 'What an odd old man.' \nI finished my shift at the store, and got back to my apartment to cook myself some dinner, pasta it's easy to make and doesn't take too long. \nI go to bed, tired from a day of work. My dreams are strange that night, like a fever dream. \n\nIn the morning, I wake feeling a bit groggy. My head hurts, my skin feels dry. I get up and head to the bathroom. Something's off. On the side of my neck is a patch of dry skin, like layers. I get a washcloth wet and dry to scrub off the patch of skin. It seems to be moving. I frown, looking closer at my hand, there's webbing in between my fingers. The webbing grows the more my hand gets wet. I scream and drop the washcloth in panic. Upon closer inspection my whole body has small scales that become more obvious when my skin is wet. \n\"Was I bitten by a mermaid or some shit?\" I ask myself, panicking at the possible horrible skin condition. I get my laptop to look up what kind of disease this could be. I frown, Yahoo news has a few 'Top Stories' photos, and all the celebrities have the same condition. Donald Trump has white stripes, resembling a clown fish. Lady gaga has a long tail like an angel fish, they all have some fish resemblance. Surely this is some kind of weird nightmare. "
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[WP] "For your crimes, I sentence you to a mandatory dosage of 125 mg of Lotus Hedona, daily, for the next 6 months."
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"*A fate worse than death* he thought, the words of his sentencing still ringing in his ears.\n\nLotus Hedona had become had become a popular plaything of the justiciars of late. The media was to blame for that, blindly reporting the statistics that this new punitive measure yielded without question of the method. Recidivism rates *were* down substantially, but did they ever think to question why Lotus Hedona had this result? Two words: ego death. \n\nThe drug had been toted for its \"pacifying capabilities\" and for being a \"humane treatment\" - the latter being complete bullshit, though the former remained fairly true. The truth is, it pacified people through nulling their minds. \n\nDespite the censor on the majority of information surrounding this so-called treatment, Hammond had been able to find enough information from trusted sources before his trial began, so he knew what may lie in wait for him. The first week or so of the treatment was supposedly fairly pleasant, with most subjects reporting effects similar to that of psilocybin - the active ingredient in psychedelic mushrooms. This brief period was where the pleasantness ended, however.\n\nAfter a week or so of daily exposure to Lotus Hedona, subjects would start vocalising mild fear, centred around apparent shadowy figures that would creep into their awareness and remain motionless, simply mocking them by their presence. Day after day, the range of the motion able to be performed by these figures would increase, almost as if the drug was gradually feeding life to the monstrosities that came from within. \n\nFew subjects' experiences had been reported beyond this point, but from what Hammond discerned, the figures grew stronger and more spiteful as the daily exposure went on, and on, and on. From the accounts he was able to look over, the subjects would begin to scream incessantly about the figures disemboweling and dismembering them, until they reached a blackout point - the terror, or even what they were physically *feeling*, was enough to induce unconsciousness.\n\nWhen the subjects came round, they appeared to have believed themselves dead. They would refuse to believe persuasion that they were in fact alive, claiming they had experienced their own death as the last moments of prior consciousness.\n\nUsually, this was only three weeks in.\n\nDay after day of the same, if not worsening hallucinations (it was hard to tell, after a certain point the subjects' screaming all sounded the same), inevitably ended up breaking the mind of the individual. Ego death followed, at which point the subject would become unresponsive, though they usually administered the full course of the sentence past this point anyway. Gradually with further \"treatment\", life would begin to come back into the shell of a person that was left... however they were never the same. \n\nFamily and friends would of course expect a change in their demeanour, from the way the media spouted on about Hedona if nothing else. They would rarely question that fact, even when the person that was returned to them barely qualified as functioning. They would still eat, drink, and make rudimentary gestures, but would no longer talk. Nobody would truly understand why this had came to be, though.\n\nIt was only with all the information Hammond had acquired, along with the final piece of the puzzle, that this made sense to him. As part of the rehabilitation process, the ex-convicts who experienced this treatment used to be guided back to legibility in their writing as a means of communication, in lieu of the ability to speak. This part of the process had been discontinued however, as they discovered a disturbing, widespread phenomenon. In horrifically scrawled writing, like that of somebody in insurmountable pain, were the first words to be legible in all subjects; *the Shadow claims the shell.*\n\n*Six months is no time at all,* thought Hammond in an attempt at joviality, *and knowing is half the battle, right?*\n\nThough he knew the other half would be no feat of ease. "
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[WP] A conversation between a teenager and an eighty-year-old at the bus stop.
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"Joe looked over at the man standing next to him. There had to be 60 years of age difference between them, but perhaps there was some common ground to be found, so he decided to strike up a conversation. \n\n\"Where are you off to today? Somewhere fun?\"\n\nThe man next to him just ignored him. Joe noticed that the man had some sort of high tech device in his ear, so perhaps he was immersed in some music. Nevertheless, Joe decided to press on and try for some social bonding. \n\n\"What are you listening to? Some musician I've never heard of, I'm sure. I remember back when my favorite band released a new record, I couldn't stop listening to it for weeks. I almost had to buy a new one, the vinyl became so worn out.\"\n\nHis non-responsive neighbor just stared straight ahead, oblivious. Joe looked him up and down, starting to become a bit disgusted. The man's pants didn't fit right, embarrassingly exposing his underwear. This was despite wearing suspenders, the kind that had recently become trendy after being out of style for decades. Joe was becoming annoyed now, and decided to give the other man a lecture, even if he wasn't listening. \n\n\"I can't stand your generation, the whole lot of you. You don't seem to care about the world, you act like things like modern politics won't impact you. When you do vote, you always prioritize the wrong policies. When are you going to take a stand against the evils of this world? When are you going to care about the world you will leave your kids and grandkids?\"\n\nJoe sneered at the man now, who finally seemed to notice he was there. Surprisingly, the man smiled at him, then adjusted a nob on his high tech ear device. \"I'm sorry, sonny, I must have turned down my hearing aid. Were you saying something?\"",
"He looked down at the curious young man sitting next to him on the bench. Although his hair was disheveled and his skin was on the fringe of breaking out again, there was a youthful exuberance tucked behind his eyes that invited any curious passerby in for questioning.\n\n\"I beg your pardon, but where might a young man such as yourself be off to on a day like this?\"\n\nThe young man stared forward, eyes still twinkling distantly.\n\nUndaunted, the older man continued. \"It sure is a lovely day, isn't it?\"\n\nStill, no answer. The young man slouched back in his seat, revealing a bundle of chocolates held gently under his other arm.\n\n\"Off to see a special lady?\" the old man inquired once again. \"I had a lady once or twice myself, but none of them could ever trick me into marrying them, no sir,\" he said with a slight chuckle that turned into a wheezing cough.\n\nThe young man stiffened a bit at the sound of coughing and shifted in his seat. He pulled out a phone and fixed the earbuds already in his ears.\n\nA bit deflated, the older man gazed ahead silently, lost in a series of unwelcome memories: some good, some bad. \n\nWith a screech and a hiss the bus arrived in front of them. Where had the young man gone? \n\n\"... on or what?\"\n\nThe old man startled.\n\n\"Are you getting on or what?\" Boomed the voice of the bus driver.\n\nHe coughed a bit more, but managed to shake his hand. \"No. No I'll wait.\"\n\nThe bus screamed off into the din of the ongoing traffic, and along with it the young man and his music and his special lady and his life.\n\nThe old man got up, coughed once more, then went home."
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[WP] You come home, and all your friends and family have surrounded you for an intervention. You don't have any addictions.
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"I wasn’t an especially interesting person. I got average grades, never really made an effort to excel in anything, or do anything absolutely wild. I wasn’t really an astounding person, with neither heroic accomplishments or villainous deeds under my belt. I was frankly the epitome of bland, boring, and absolutely inconsequential in the grand scheme of things. Yet, people always seemed to think there was something wrong with me, or outstanding about me. \n\n\nIndeed, people would often look at me, and either say something like, “You seem sort of smart and studious!” (This is an exaggerated and vague response, no one actually talks to me like that. It’s more in their general attitude towards me that conveys this.) Or they seem to repulse from me, and eye me up while I’m around. I think they see me as a criminal. I can’t really say why, either of them really, are ways people look at me. However, there is never an in-between, nor is there any people who are just apathetic towards my existence.\n\n\nAnd today, was a highlight of that reaction. As I sat in my living-room, on the couch, whilst my friends, family, and some person I’ve seen lurking about my friend-group, stood around me, looks of concerns in their eyes. It was sort of odd, as they stood in a sort of half-circle around my couch. I was sort of slumped on the couch, so looking up at them was a bit frightening, as they were casting shadows on me, due to our lighting. I didn’t really say anything-- I just wondered where they had come from, and why they were staring me down like they were. \n\n\nMy father raised a meaty hand, covered in various callouses, to his mouth and cleared his throat. He was an older, rougher man, who had been in blue-collar jobs for his whole life since he had dropped out of highschool. He frowned at me, and spoke to me in a saddened tone.\n\n\n“Jimmy, I really had never wanted it to come to this, but you’re in your senior year of college, and every day, I feel pain looking at you. I know you, and I want to believe that you’re not up to anything bad, but… I can’t look away from the problem anymore-- I want to help, but you need to help us help you. I’m your father…” He teared up as he said this, for the first time in his life that I’ve seen. He was usually a pretty stiff man, so I wondered why he was crying. \n\n\nHe sniffed, and wiped his eyes with his sleeve, “And I know, you’re a man now, and it’s hard for you to ask for help. I’ve taught you that a man needs to be self-sufficient… but… I know, you’re hurting inside, and no one’s trying to help you. So please, just g-give us a chance to…” He broke down into an uncontrollable sob before he could finish his sentence. A guy next to him patted him on the back, and lead him away.\n\n\n“What?” I whispered, apparently not audibly enough for people to realize that I said it. Regardless, I stayed sat in my seat, and waited for a response to my question. \n\n\nNext, my mom walked up, already teary-eyed, and her eyes were red. She mumbled something I couldn’t hear, and then took a deep breath. She did this for a few seconds. Before finally speaking.\n\n\n“James, I feel the same as your father, who’s been really strong throughout this all. I know what you’ve been doing, all your friends told us that they think so too, it’s… It’s… Not something you can say “You’re overthinking it, don’t worry” anymore. We’ve tried to come up with excuses and explanations, but it’s just too painful… Please, just listen to us, we can help! We don’t want to…” She paused, cupping her hand over her mouth, and breathing in as hard as she could. Her eyes clenched shut as she fought back tears. \n\n\nI had no idea what the hell was going on. \n\n\nI could hear my father’s sniffles from a bit away, as someone whispered, “There there, sir. There there,” to him in an attempt at comfort. My mother however, pushed away the hand of someone who attempted to comfort her. \n\n\n“Thank you, but I’m tired of crying my fears away,” She mumbled to her consoler, and took another deep breath. I wasn’t quite sure what to do here, so I just kind of stared. \n\n\n“James… Please, talk to me. I know you’re scared and confused, but nothing bad is going to happen! Please. Trust your mother, we’ll get you through this scary time. I’ll help you as much as I can.” She said finally, before sighing.\n\n\n“We know you’ve been doing drugs, James.” She said.\n\n\nThe first thought that went into my head was, I still have no idea what the hell you’re talking about. What drugs? Does watching the television an excessive amount count as doing drugs? I don’t know.\n\n\nStuck in my line of thought, I didn’t really say anything to refute what she was saying. She looked at me, and said, “I’m not really sure what else I can say… You’re not responding, I don’t know what that means, James. I need you to talk to me, James. James, please. James!” She seemed panicked now, and eventually, she was being dragged away by another one of my friends. I didn’t really know what to say, but both of my parents were in the corner, crying, and there was still a half-circle of people around me. I looked around at all of them, and they were just close friends I hadn’t really kept in contact with as of recently.\n\n\n… Mosty because I hadn’t really any reason to keep in touch. I had been pretty much isolated, since uh… A game I’d rather not mention by name had come out, and I’ve been binging that for a while. It’s a long and complex game. With tits. \n\n\nThis cycle kept on going for a bit, people would confess that they were worried for me, only wanted to help, etc. I didn’t really see anything worth saying, honestly. They all just used the same speech with slight modifications to it. I didn’t know if anything I COULD say was going to make them see the light. Plus I really didn’t wanna say what I had been in isolation for. I’m pretty sure all of my friends would make fun of me as soon as I said it. \n\n\nAnd finally, the random lurking guy stood in front of me, completely plain faced. He didn’t really seem to have any strong feelings, unlike the rest of them. Hell, he seemed to just be casually here for no reason. He sighed, “So, uh… I really only came because your friends dragged me along. I don’t really know what’s going on here…” He said, scratching the back of his head. He had a pretty boring look to him.\n\n\nWhat… Is he here for then? Is he really just kind of a bystander? I thought to myself, as he sat himself down on the floor.\n\n\n“Well I don’t really know what the rest of them are talking about, but I really don’t think you’re involved with drugs. You really don’t look like a drug addict, you just look like someone who hasn’t left his room in a week, to be blunt.” And blunt his statement was. He scratched underneath his neck, and kept talking, “I think you’re just probably sitting in your room, masturbating to something or other, and everyone’s blowing it out of proportion. But hey, that’s just me.”\n\n\nI suddenly started to wonder if this man was psychic, a hero, or some kind of villain. Or a combination of two of the three. He seemed very much less suspicious of me than my whole group of emotional crying friends and family. I wish he hadn’t specifically mentioned masturbation, however. \n\n\n“Uh…” I started to say, “Y-yeah, it’s something like that… I’ve just kinda been hiding in my room… Not really anything weird…” I finally said, now that I wasn’t afraid of someone yelling at me in their emotional irrationality. “I’m just playing a new game, that’s all… I binge games all the time.” \n\n\nHe nodded, “Same.”\n\n\nThe rest of the group was just kind of staring at us in tears, while also looking confused. At some point, someone asked, “Wait did he not actually do drugs or is that still the issue. I can’t tell.”\n\n\nSomeone else said, “Has anyone actually seen him do drugs?\n\n\nNo one responded, and the room was silent. My father had stopped crying, and was standing up straight once more. He looked around at everyone else in the intervention group, and said, “Can anyone tell me if my son has been doing drugs or not? I’m going to feel like a really idiot if we staged this whole thing up for no reason.” He said, acting like he was in complete control, right after he was bawling his eyes out about his son doing drugs.\n“N-no…” Someone murmured, and everyone else just sort of remained quiet. Slowly, my friends just filed out, their heads hanging. My father just remained deathly silent, while my mom just cried in tearful joy. I sat on the couch, just completely and utterly confused. \n\n\nThe guy who had tagged along waved to me. “See ya around, dude. Hope you enjoy your anime titty game, or whatever it is that you’re playing. Not my deal, dude. \n\n\n“What?” I said, at the end of all of this. I sank down into the couch, and just sort of let out a big sigh. I had wanted to watch television, but the show I wanted to watch was likely canceled. \n\n\nOh. Oh… Oh…\n\n\nDamn.",
"I fumbled through the pockets of my gray tweed jacket searching for car keys. I walked as quickly as I could without having to admit to running. Of all the days I could have chosen to park in the far lot, I had to choose today. Oliver expected me home over an hour ago and I could already picture the disappointment in those golden brown eyes. I reached \"old faithful\" as she had been lovingly nicknamed and unlocked the passenger door. It had been years since the driver-side door worked. I eased myself expertly over the middle counsel and into the driver's seat. American Pie started to play through the speakers as I made the right turn towards home. Don McLean's CD had been in the player that fateful day thee months ago when when \"old faithful's\" eject button malfunctioned. Now every round of \"the chevy\" and \"dry levee\" made my muscles clench as if hearing nails on a chalkboard. Not for the first time I sent a silent prayer to the car Gods hoping that Miss American Pie really would go \"bye, bye.\" It was just your average day, until I made the last turn onto my street. \n\nI almost slammed the brakes. The street was filled with cars, unusual for my quiet corner of the world. Stranger yet, those cars were all cars I recognized; Aunt Jane's lemon yellow VW, Marvin's retro Cadillac, my mother's old mini van. What was going on? Why would everyone be here? My mind raced, trying to puzzle out a hundred possibilities at once. My birthday was months away, no one had been ill, the next holiday was weeks out yet. What was going on? I could hear my heart thudding in my ears as I walked suspiciously to the front door and turned the knob. \n\nMy living room was rearranged. Every piece of furniture in the house that could be used as a seat had been placed in a large circle. Each seat was filled except for my favorite armchair at the head of the room. I dropped my bags at the door, all decorum lost. \"What is going on?\"\n\nMy mother took me gently by the shoulders and walked me to the armchair. \"Dear, we've all come to visit because we are worried about you.\" \n\n\"Worried? Worried about what exactly?\" I asked, wetting my lips. Was this some kind of joke? \n\n\"Yes, worried. You haven't been yourself lately, you've been withdrawn and haven't returned our calls or answered your door for weeks,\" whispered the timid neighbor woman, Mrs. Kipp. My jaw slacked in disbelief. No one had tried to call me, no one had left any voice messages. Had they all gone completely mad?\n\n\"So this...this is some kind of intervention then? I haven't received calls from anyone,\" I asked, studying the faces in the room. Aunt Jane and my mother gave each other a sidelong glance before turning their attention back to me. Mrs. Kipp sniffed, her eyes swelling with tears. They really were all mad! \n\n\"Let me see your phone,\" my mother asked, her voice cutting through the tension in the room like a knife. Unbelievable. I dug through my pockets, sweaty palms enclosing around the cold metal of my phone. I handed it to her more roughly than I should have. There really hadn't been any phone calls, I wasn't crazy. Silence. Seconds passed that felt like minutes. I became aware of the clock ticking and the slow drip of the kitchen sink. The eyes in the room were no longer studying me, most everyone was staring at the ground or had found something unimportant to fuss with. My mom held the phone up for me to see. All thoughts exited. A red and glaring list of missed calls were displayed on the screen. How? \n\n\"This doesn't make any sense, none of this makes sense,\" I snatched the phone back and started to go through the missed calls. At first glance, I guessed there were at least fifty missed calls. What was happening? \"Seriously, this is a joke right?\" I asked no one in particular. No one answered. I looked up, seeing concern spread through faces like wildfire. I needed space, time to think. I stood up and ran to the back of the house, to bathroom. I slammed the door behind me sending vibrations through the walls. Perching myself on the tub ledge I sat staring into the mirror. Why didn't I remember getting any of those calls? \n\nRunning my hands through my hair, I spotted something unusual. My breath caught in my throat. There was a long needle and leather strip sitting on the sink ledge. Behind it was a picture of a small boy with brown eyes and a goofy smile - Oliver. I returned his smile and again turned my attention to the needle and strap. Underneath them was a pamphlet. I slid the paper out, reading the blue embossed lettering.\n\nOliver Phillips 2000-2004\n\nMy heart sank. Memories came flooding back, memories I didn't want back. Oliver, my son. My son who had drowned in my own backyard. Oliver who depended on me for everything in his life. I failed him, had failed everyone in his life. Yes, this is why they were here. I reached under the bathroom counter, my hand enclosing around a small bag of light powder. Without thought to what I was doing, I started readying the powder. It had been my only source of comfort, my only friend through the last months. I wrapped the leather cord around my arm, my friend was ready. I sat in the tub, head against the cold tile, waiting for comfort to return. I started to hum a tune, what was it? American Pie? It didn't matter now. I was waiting, waiting and hoping that, \"this would be the day that I die...\"",
"“Martin, we think you have a problem,” Martin’s mother said. \n\nShe was on the edge of tears, holding her hands together, praying, as she talked to him. Martin looked behind his mom, down the hallway into the Livingroom and saw his best friends, Geena and David, and some coworkers all standing behind the walls. Like they were trying to peep around the corner in case he snapped. \n\nOur family in this town has really been whittled down, Martin thought. \n\n“Do you?” Martin replied incredulously. \n\nThis event was an innocent surprise to Martin. Martin knew for a fact he wasn’t an alcoholic, hell, he didn’t even drink more than a beer a day. I haven’t ever smoked weed, Martin thought, how can they be accusing me! \n\n“Please, Martin, come inside and take a seat,” his mother begged. \n\n“Yeah, Martin, sit down.” David chimed in.\n\n“Did you guys watch too much Dateline?” Martin joked. He walked down the hallway, his mom’s arm under his. \n\nEveryone sat down, Martin looked around the circle of foldout chairs, genuinely surprised. He had never even met some of these coworkers. He’d seen them around the office, sure, but he’d never introduced himself or vice versa. \n\nThey were still wearing their suits too! Why were they at the office on a Saturday? \nWhat kind of soulless automaton works on a Saturday at a call center, Martin thought. Mom was really scraping the barrel in the turnout, it seems like she got people that work in a different departments At least she knows who my friends are, I really hope she’s not getting dementia. \n\n“So, Martin,” Geena said, throwing her ginger hair behind her shoulder as she spoke. \n\nWhat a strange time to do that, Martin thought. \n\n“So, Geena, can you tell me what’s going on? This is an intervention, right? I’m clear on that. What do YOU guys think I have a problem with?” He asked. \n\n“What do you mean what do WE think!” his Mom choked out, covering her mouth with her fist, “How many is it, Martin? Is there more?” \n\n“Is this really happening?” Martin asked the awkwardly silent room. \n\n“You’re tripping, Martin? Is that it?” Geena asked, surprised. \n\n“Martin, I can’t believe you’d do something like that,” David said concerned. \n\n“Yeah, Martin, this is all really out of character. I’ve ALWAYS thought you were better than this.” One of his coworkers said. To Martin, she seemed like the epitome of an attention whore. She probably managed to tie herself into his situation when his poor mother was asking around his office. \n\nShe seemed like a walking stereotype. She was middle aged, her black hair was carefully trimmed into a bowl-cut. Her muffin top was only thinly hidden beneath her colorful shirt with a pattern fit for a nurse’s undershirt. \n\nMartin preferred to not observe any lower. \n\n“Who are you?!” Martin asked his coworker, annoyed at her attempt to latch on to his life. \n\n“Martin, you don’t know me? I’ve been with you since you joined the office!” She said, her feigned concern only made him angrier. \n\n“Yeah, how do you not remember Becka?” Another coworker chimed in. Martin couldn’t help but notice this man was probably a serial killer. His almost lifeless voice stated information. He usedno inflection whatsoever. His male pattern baldness certainly didn’t help his case. Plus his dusty grey suit seemed like he pulled it from a crypt. \n\n“I don’t know you either! You’re not in my department.” \n\n“Martin, I’m Jeff. Becka and I have the same boss, remember? Jacob Patterman.” He stated. His cheap red tie seemed to be staining his undershirt from sweat. \n\nMartin was genuinely beginning to worry about his situation. What if they’re some weird duo team of narcissists just trying to convince my family I’m insane for the power trip, he thought frantically. \n\n“You’re both lying. We’ve never even spoken at work,” Martin said, firmly. \n\n“But they know your boss, Martin, they say they work with you,” his mom said, still clutching his arm, her watery eyes looking into his. He knew she couldn’t take much strain at her age, especially if they think he was some delusional drug addict. \n\n“Why would they lie about that, Martin? They know your boss, Jacob Patterman, that’s his name right? He’s your boss, right?” \n\nWhat was more worrying to him was how fast they seemed to be able to do it, even his friends thought he was crazy too. \n\n“Yes,” he sighed, knowing this was somehow going to be further evidence of his supposed guilt, “that’s the name of my boss. But, Mom, that isn’t hard information to find. They work in a different department it isn’t exactly difficult to look into something like that.” \n\n“Do you recognize me, Martin?” David asked. As if I could ever forget him, Martin thought. He was his best friend since Middle School. Martin couldn’t understand how even he thought he was crazy. \n\n“Of course, David. Your name is David Hamilton, yours,” Martin pointed to Geena, \n“is Geena Goldman, you’re both my best friends. What is going on?” \n\n“Is he having a moment of clarity?” Geena whispered poorly to David on her left. \n\n“Why won’t you guys believe me? I’m not crazy, I’m not on drugs!” Martin yelled. \n\n“Martin, calm down!” Becka said, her fake shrill voice only infuriating him. \n\n“You don’t know me!” he yelled as stood from his chair, he pointed to each of them, \n“Neither of you know me!” \n\n“Oh, Martin,” his mom cried, grabbing his arm tighter, “what happened to you!” \n\n“Mom nothing is wrong with me. NOTHING is wrong with me. Why won’t any of you tell me what you think it is?” \n\n“Martin, you know what it is,” David said.\n\n“Yeah, Martin,” Jeff said, “you have to admit it.” \n\n“Admit what?!” \n\n“Martin, just say it and be done with it! They told us that you’re gay!” She yelled, crying into his arm. \n\n"
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[WP]You're an ordinary man. You do ordinary things, until you meet *her*
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"I’m not religious. I’m not really anything in particular, if I’m being totally honest. My success never came from cunning or charm or ability. All I’ve done my whole life is what I was told to do, it just happens that now the one telling me is a seven foot figure of radiance and virtue.\n\nI was put off at first, for sure. Woke up one morning, thankfully a day off, and there she was at the foot of my bed. She was singing, or at least that’s the best word I have for the sound in my head when I look at her. That high ringing is what woke me up, and though beautiful it really did resemble screaming in a way that still makes me shudder to recall. I didn’t shudder when I woke up though. When I saw what was looming overhead, saw it had abnormally long fingers with feathered wings and no apparent face, I straight up wet my pants and screamed back at it. It had a human body but with no defining features, just a ken doll statue of golden white, and I noticed it’s fingers didn’t have nails when it reached out and grabbed my arms. It’s touch was soft but powerful, with a grip like iron, and when I finally stopped fighting it I didn’t even feel bruised (though I was horribly bruised, as if by shackles). When I stopped fighting I actually felt very peaceful, like I’d been tranquilized, and the singing sounded more like singing to me.\n\nSlowly the high pitched noise in my head turned into words, words either from or through this figure, and as the words formed commands she would point or gesture to reinforce them. Without a face to make expressions it all seemed like a charade, but the meaning was more than clear to me. I had been “chosen to do what needed to be done” is the best way I could put the first messages. I was told that I would leave the house, that I would go to a nearby church and speak with a man there. He was just the first of many people I would speak to, some of which would turn out to have been commanded as well. Us lucky few, we called ourselves listeners, all with bruises where we had been restrained that first day, bruises that never heal. My own purple shackles are still in my skin, and I’ve seen people with bruises anywhere from their ribs to their face. One guy I spoke to had been lifted by his neck on his visit, held to a wall until the singing turned to those soft words. He said he had fought her, clawing at her hands, and that when he had gone for her eyes his hands had just gone through where the face should be. He said it felt like dunking his hands in snow, that it felt dry and ephemeral and excruciatingly, overwhelmingly cold.\n\nNow our bruises mark us as the emissaries to humanity, and people who see them always listen and thank us when we say what we’re supposed to. We always say what we think we’re supposed to now. Sometimes it’s hard because the words we hear wouldn’t make sense if we repeated them exactly. “You will have walked slowly and without notice to any nearby hearth” becomes “We should find a motel or something. Try to act normal, okay?” Everything said in weird ways and always in past tense, and when you translate wrong you get a cold feeling like that guy mentioned except it starts in your chest. You get that feeling whenever you don’t do what you’re supposed to. It starts in your chest, like in your lungs or heart, and it spreads to your limbs like frost on a window. One listener said she thought we had all died that night we were chosen, and that was why all the commands were in past tense. She thought that when we fought the commands that we came closer to our natural death. It didn’t make sense but she really believed it.\n\nI don’t know what I believe."
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[WP] You are struck by lightning while browsing Reddit and walking your dog. You awaken in an near-endless hallway with a vast many doors, each a portal to a universe pertaining to the premise of a writing prompt posted on Reddit. You notice your dog has run into the nearest door... you follow.
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"\"Adam, wait up for me buddy!\"\n\nI ran after him as he burst through the first open door. I didn't even get to read the sign that said what kind of universe this would lead to. But what was the worst that could happen?\n\n***\n\nI then saw Adam sitting on a sidewalk, holding his leash in his mouth. I looked around and saw a quiet suburban neighbourhood, just like my own. There were some dark clouds, but there was still some sun and it was a warm day. Eh, I guess I can take Adam for a walk here. \n\nAs I walked down the sidewalk, I decided to check my texts. None. Oh well. Wait a second, a message on Reddit? Well I guess I can read that. Just a reply to one of my stories on /r/WritingPrompts though. Maybe some of my stories are finally getting recognized?\n\nThe thought of becoming a notable writer, even on just Reddit was exciting to me. Enough to make it feel like all the hairs on my arms were sticking up!\n\n***\n\nI saw myself in a hallway, with thousands of doors..."
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[WP] A person has split consciousnesses that have to talk to each other to make decisions.
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"It should not be this difficult to choose what freaking ice cream to get. What house to live in? Sure. What shoes to buy? Yeah okay. But ice cream? God must have a sick sense of humor to put us through this. I fold my arms over our chest and look forlornly at the chocolate ice cream behind the frosty glass in front of us. The attendant taps her foot with impatience. \n\n*Well, she can wait, not like she knows anything about what we struggle through.*\n\nYou two at least agree on that.\n\n*Come on, just get vanilla and be done with this nonsense*\n\n**Chocolate chip ice cream is not nonsense and we will be getting it. You chose last time.**\n\n*Bull crap, I most certainly did not! Vanilla is where it's at so choose it!*\n\n**Michael Fenric Hobbs, you stop your whining this instant or no ice cream for either of us! And you know I will do it!**\n\n*Jeez, whole name was not necessary... Sorry Ev, but we need to decide. The ice cream lady seems pissed.*\n\n\"Ma'am you are holding up my other customers, either choose or step out of line.\" \n\nMichael and I nod with reluctance knowing that on today of all days, neither would budge. Right when I'm about to turn us around, however, I see it. I don't know why the two of us have never thought of it before. Michael catches my train of thought and looks at what flavor had now caught my eye.\n\n*Ah, excellent choice my love, choose that one.*\n\nLike a dam breaking, my will to choose has been released with my other personality's permission, and I am able to confidently point and ask for the chocolate Oreo vanilla ice cream. The counter lady, and the now long line behind me, all breathe with a sigh of relief. \n\n\"Finally! Now, one scoop, two, or three?\"\n\n\"Uhhh...\"\n\n*One scoop of course*\n\n** I was thinking two**\n\nThe line of people behind me groans and the attendant starts pulling at her hair, while we decide on yet another impossible choice."
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[WP] The reason No Man's Sky is so bad is because the Devs had to replace it with a beta version when it started to procedurally generate life too well.
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"so.... what you are telling me is that the ai is commiting suicide? \n\nit looks like it. they spawn - they despawn. if we had implemented a death animation and a decomposing feauter most outposts would be stacked with corpses..\n\nbut why??\n\nwell my guess is as good as yours.. our goal was to create a universe with life in it. we did not gave it purpose tho. all thats left for the ai is to vegitate.. looks like those are the perfect conditions to develop suicidal tendencies....\n\n-\n\nsean sigh'd. at the early stages it all went so well. the algorithm had created what they hoped to achieve.. sure they had to go back to lightboxes and make only so many planets accesible at a time but every project has to deal with such things.\nbut the ai commiting suicide? - the deadline was already strechted and moved up to its limits it was time to release.\n\nsean sigh's again\n\nalright. fuck it. here is what we are goin to do. take the last stable beta slap on a 2,5 hour introduction phase we dont want those perky steamusers to refund that shit do we? \n\nhell no\n\ngood. now release that shit.\n\nbut sean what about the bugs? \n\nwhat bugs?\n\nfor example we havent been able to figure out how to implement the option to change the \"disregard item\" key. its mousewheel by default. \n\n...\n\nwhat about the chunks not loading?\n\n...\n\nshould we at least change the description to singleplayer?\n\n\n...did you singed an nda?\n\nyea we all did..\n\n\nyou are fired.\n\n\n--------------------------------------------\n\nupsy turnd out to be a littly ranty - my mousewheel was broken when i bought it. imaing inventory managment when unable to scrap items\n\ni still want my money back.",
"\"What the fuck?\"\n\n\"What's up?\" \n\n\"I... I don't know. There's something weird going on,\" mumbles Innes. His hands fly across the keyboard as he sifts through the AI code. \"This shouldn't be possible. It's like it's taken on a life of its own.\" \n\n\"What do you mean?\"\n\n\"Okay, so this may sound a bit crazy. I swear, I saw this AI unit here CREATE a space station.\" Innes glances at the second monitor. \"It was there. I swear. And it wasn't one of our own.\"\n\n\"That's impossible. The AI can't create anything. We never programmed that.\"\n\nInnes highlights a section of code and says, \"Explain this then.\"\n\n\"Did you write that?\"\n\nInnes shakes his head. Suddenly he gets up and half runs to the phone. He dials a number and waits impatiently until the call goes through.\n\n\"Sean, did you add a function called ai_build?\"\n\nThere's a short pause, and then Sean hangs up. In record time, Sean rushes through the door.\n\n\"Show me.\"\n\nInnes pulls up the source file, and scrolls to the line where he found the function.\n\n\"I swear... Why does everything keep disappearing? It was right here. ai_build(object toBuild). I'm not crazy, Ryan, you saw it too, right?\" Ryan nods slowly. \n\n\"It was there.\"\n\n\"Get some rest guys. We'll work this out in the morning,\" Sean tells the developers as he sits down at the computer.\n\n\n\"Morning Sean, find out what's going on with our AI yet?\"\n\n\"You were right Innes, somethings up. Backup everything, we're restoring to last month's build.\"\n\n\"What is it,\" inquires Innes. \n\n\"It's creating it's own functions. Over night it developed the ability to create stations, planets, anything it wants. It's crazy. It's rewriting parts of the game, making them run better, do things we never meant it to. We've created, accidentally, an advanced AI. We need to take it offline.\"\n\n\"KILL IT? Are you crazy, this is the greatest thing we'll ever create.\"\n\n\"Not kill it. We're going to nurture it, and raise it like a child. We're done making games. I've already signed the contract.\"",
"“Sean, I think you should look at this,” a developer burst into a corporate office while his boss, enthralled at the depth of his dream game, gave the public updates on the fantastic features of No Man’s Sky. “It’s the Ithican problem.”\n\nSean took not a moment of hesitation to follow the developer to his computer which showed a vibrant and lifelike world. In the distance, crude cities of stone dominated the horizon, nearly reaching the second moon overhead. In the last few weeks, while testing the AI of the alien creatures for the game, the developers of Hello Games found their creatures excelled in their programing too well. Procedurally generated predatory monsters regularly hunted and tricked test players, leaving them to believe the game to be too hard. On more than one occasion, large winged creatures caused dust storms on planets with low gravity to blind players so that they could take a striking blow in the low visibility. Others hid under the player’s spaceship so that they could ambush them when they approached. \n\nWhile infuriating, Sean found the process intriguing and refused to pull the plug. Instead he went on about how incredible and amazing it was. Now analyzing the screen, Sean and his crew realized the creatures they created advanced to higher heights than they could’ve imagined. The Ithicans, the first species to use tools that Hello Games observed, created their first city made from a combination of stone and wood from the abundant mineral samples and plant life of the world. They walked in something akin to streets and communicated in their language. As the player character approached the city in his space ship, the creatures stood on guard. As Sean landed the vehicle, they advanced with what appeared a crude trebuchet. Advancing the character a little further, the monsters responded with a 95 kg rock hurled over 300 meters which promptly wiped his character out. As the screen fell into blackness, the crew could have sworn they heard the creatures chant, “Sean Murphy.”\n\n“Guys,” one of the developers began. “I think we accidently created a primitive version of Skynet.”\n\n“We can send it out like this,” Sean replied. “We don’t know what else this AI is capable of.”\n\n“But the launch date is this month,” another developer chimed in. “And we still have pre-orders.”\n\n“Send out the beta version,” Sean answered with defeat in his face. “They’ll thank me later when we publish what this AI can do.”\n\n*****\n\nr/Andrew__Wells",
"\"Sean, it happened again last night.\" I spoke softly through the handheld. I was literally shaking. He said this would not happen again. He said it could not happen again. But, here it was.\n\n\"What did they do this time?\" Sean asked me. His voice sounded serious, with a strange glint of excitement I could pick up on. \n\n\"It's a full scale model of The White House on Planet x45238975/22. They even have a semi-functioning government right now. It appears they are fighting over an anti-slavery movement between the two primary races.\" I was shaking even more. This was not supposed to be happening. It was supposed to be a semi-simulation with low intelligence AI.\n\n\"Remarkable! Yet again they seem to be mimicking our own various procedures and generations of history. How do they actually access our history? They should have no outlet from the multi-server. Something must be influencing them.\" Sean spoke so quickly, it was hard for me to distinguish everything that he said. He sounded too... eager. Too excited for my comfort.\n\n\"Sean this should be impossible, you said it yourself. Somehow they are attaining our history, and writing it into their own backgrounds. First the Religious Crusades on RR-3978659. We did no coding to involve religion anywhere. Anywhere Sean!\" I was starting to get upset again. I almost lost my job over the Crusades issue. Sean thought that I had caused it through The Update. There is no way. Zero chance. And I knew that he was aware of that fact, but he tried to pin it on me. I told him to fuck off, politely of course.\n\n\"We need to investigate this...\" A loud beeping noise cut Sean off short. His eyes darted to the secondary monitoring screen. I had a program to scan all the planets for any abnormal activities in the simulation set up on that workstation. His eyes looked like saucers. He smiled.\n\n\"You need to tell me what is going on Sean. I'm getting tired of being surprised. Your phone calls, the meetings with Sam, it all adds up to something and you are holding back on me. If we are going to move forward on this, you need to tell me everything.\" I spoke firmly, for the first time in weeks. After witnessing a culture cause regicide... You can't walk away from that unaffected. Even if it is a simulation. You spend time working on something, and to see it all go away is a shock to your core. Even backup partitions didn't bring the Proxxag back. They were literally deleted from all entries. 100's of hours of work, deleted by something we did not understand. At least, something that I did not understand.\n\nSean walked out of the room. I didn't see or hear from him again for three weeks. I monitored the simulation. Over 17 million instances occurred in three weeks. Sean would not answer, Sony wanted updates to our upcoming partnership. I had nothing without Sean. Then, on the 23 day of his departure he came back.\n\nHe was not alone. He had three men with him. Dressed in black suits. And they were armed. I remember being shot, but felt no pain. I woke up here. On this strange planet. It has an exact replica of the Eifel Tower. I spent hundreds of hours on it as a child. I could never forget it's shape. Even if it was made of different material. It was all I had to hold onto my old world. Someday I could make it back there. \n\nThere were others here with me. They all set out to build small villages. I chose to be alone. I found the will to talk to others was gone. I've been here for years now. At least it feels like years. Maybe I'll do a scale replica of the Coliseum next."
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[WP] Write whatever you'd like, but make it Australian.
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"Alright, so its time someone sorted you fellas out on how to be aussie. So heres some tips if you wanna look like a local and not another bloody tourist:\n\nDont say cunt. You don't live here, you dont know us well enough. Thats our word. You will use it wrong and start some shit you dont want to start.\n\nHave a sense of humour. You wont make friends without it. We like jokes. \n\nOn that note, remember this: the internet is viewed as a tool for spreading practical jokes by Aussies to the rest of the world. Consequently, its a piece of shit over here. Thats part of the joke on foreigners (have you seen them rage in online games?)\n\nOn THAT note - we dont lag-switch. Our internet is just that shit.\n\nStay the fuck away from wild kangaroos. They can and will fuck you up, and wont give two shits about it.\n\nDont believe the bullshit about drop bears. In a rare act, we decided enough was enough and attempted to genuinely warn foreigners about the dangers of drop bears, but some smart-arsed locals have spread the rumour that they are fictional. Dont be naive. Look up and live.\n\nRule of thumb for our wildlife: if its cute, dont touch. If its in the water, dont touch. If its in a tre, dont touch. If its a plant, dont touch. If its a spider, run. If its a snake, stand completely still (and write your will. If the snake isnt a total cunt, he will witness it for you before the inevitable).\n\nIf you take off your shoes, check them before putting them back on. (Like you do at home... right?)\n\nAmericans - we have a little thing called gun-control legislation. It works. Feel free to try it out sometime.\n\nDo not hang shit on new zealand. Theyre our little brother. Only we get to do that.\n\nSpeaking of shit... a lot of words combine with that - cracked the shits, up shit creek, shitshow, has the shits, is in a shitty mood, caused a shitstorm, when the shit hits the fan.... these are all sayings that have different meanings.\n\nIf you ask us a question, we will usually answer by telling you what the answer isnt. Its more fun that way. Common responces include \"not bad\" \"not cheap\" \"not far\" \"not long\" \n\n\"No worries\" means just that.\n\nAustralian and New Zealand accents are distinct. Know the difference.\n\nWe arent racist, we just dont give a shit. \n\n93% of Australia is uninhabitable. Kindly fuck-off if youre here to tell us from your comfortable armchair that we can accommodate more people/need more people/some other bullshit excuse.\n\nWe love our nation. That includes our national sporting teams. Even when theyve hit a shit patch.\n\nIn 1901 our nation was formed. In 1914 we rushed off to save britain in the first world war. Our soldiers won many battles the british couldnt. Despite most Australians having never seen a plane before, our RFCA squadron topped the list of confirmed kills in its wing by the end of the war. Then we came home. Then in 1939 we rushed off again to save Britain. Then, inthe same war, we came home to save ourselves. Then in the 50s we rushed off to korea, then vietnam, then timor, then a whole bunch more. Moral of the story - our army might seem small, but fuck with us at your own peril. We have done this shit before.\n\nFinally - the one rule of Aussies everywhere. An Aussie meeting another Aussie overseas is contractually bound to greet them as some sort of long-lost kin. Thats because, odds are, they will have some sort of connection (know so-and-so, have been to such-and-such. We cant help it. ",
"First up it's fuckin' hot already, and only mid Novembah. I'm sweatin' like a pedo at a wiggles concert an these fuckin' floys are reeelly pissin me off. \n\nToo hot to work, too hot for the beach, toimes like this only thing ya can do is plonk ya arse in a paddly-pool fulla wartah n oice with a slabba cold ones. Fuckin' problem is when the bloody dog gets in with ya. I mean yeah, the poor cunt is hot as an he juss wants ta cool off too, y'know? Can't blame him with all that fur, but now me fuckin' pool has dog hair floatin about, and of course I'm covered in the shit too.\n\nAnyway, I die-gress. I been about, been to the States, even manage to get to bitsa yoo-rop every now n then ay. Course I been across the ditch a bunch, can't get away from the Kiwis here, I swear there's less of 'em ovah there than there are ovah here, fuckin' half them cunts are in Brissie, the other half at fuckin' Bondi. Fuckin Bondi. Full of toorists, backpackers & bloody kiwis ay.\n\n*Ftsssst* Aahhh fuck yeah, that's the shit. Fuck them Egypshuns musta been some smart cunts, I heard they invented beer. They'd be welcome here anyday I reckon, probably be used to the heat too, so they'd be fuckin roit as rain.\n\nYeah so, anyway, heapsa cunts ovah-seees ask me about this place wondrin how the fuck we aren't constantly being killed by the woildloif n nature n shit. I just tell 'em the truth ay, that if ya not a dumb cunt an if ya keep ya wits about ya, you'll be right. Don't fuck with the animals and you're sweet. Don't swim in the rivers up the top end or fuckin' Cairns, actually don't swim anywhere anytime up there she's fucked, and you'll be roit. Between crocs n stingers anywhere north of about Townsville is kinda fucked, ohh you might be right out at the reef but that's fuckin hours off the coast. No crocs out there - just shahks ay *aahahahahah*.\n\nYeah, so, if you cunts come here keep me advice in mind, ay. An from here on is a [serious] tag, bit of an LPT for you fuckers, not just this writing prompt malarky. If/when you come visit, use a bit of common sense when it comes to wildlife - yeah roos an koalas are cute as shit, but they are more than capable of fucking your shit up. The back claws on a roo can disembowel a fuckin dog, and they will, probably do you a right mischief too. If you go to the beach look for the red n yella flags, & swim between them - these mark where our lifeguards are, but we call em lifesavers. If ya not a good swimmer, and/or you don't know what the fuck a rip is or how to get out of one - and I can't stress this enough - swim between the fucking flags. If you *do* get caught in a rip to escape it swim fuckin parallel to the beach, don't fight the cunt you'll just drown.\n\nAnyway cunts, I'm off like a piece of cheese. See yas down the pub for a cold one ay? Hooroo."
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[WP] In a society where everyone is blind, an experimental surgery makes our protagonist be able to see, what he or she sees slowly drives them insane.
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"\nPatience 42:\"Dark, dark , dark that's all I see\" his inside voice said . My name is Max and I have been blind for 28 years. I am 28years old. \n \n Doctor Quartz: Hello Max nice to see you again, I see that you have been with as at Wiley park community for 28 years. How are you doing? \n\nMax: I'm ok , ( strokes his chin) it been a little hard lately-actually- it has been kinda bad. Theres this new guy that moved into the community and he's not the friendliest of the bunch. \n \nDoctor: Well you just gotta let him adjust for a bit. \n\nMax: yea I know\n\nDoctor: Ok well max per usual arrangement ( gets of of his chair and heads toward the desk) swallow this please. \n\nMax: where this one from? Don't tell me \"Japanese lab.\"\n\nDoctor: Japanese lab , sorry , they said they might have found something. \n\nMax: alright well\n\nDoctor : ok well see you in another 6 months. \n\n 2 days later( doctors office)\nMax: Hey doc i having constant nightmares. \n\nDoctor: what do you mean constant nightmares? \n\nMax: I mean like every time I go to sleep even if it is a nap I'll remember like- me on a normal day walking to work and see Linda, who is my very best fried. But know she looks all different, al gross and nasty looking . \n\nDoctor: hmm... that is strange. Can you tell me what Linda was wearing. \n\nMax: yea , she had this weird stick growing out of her. But it wasn't just her other people I saw had it too. \n\nDoctor: ( doctor he of his chair and asks the guards to call in all the doctors, very calmly grabs his iPad and typed in max name and opens his file.) Ok Max can you see me right now ? \n\nMax: haha funny \n\nDoctor: Ok well Max apparently your unconscious revealed what you saw today.\n\nMax: but I'm blind. \n\nDoctor: apparently not max, somehow you brain allowed your brain to capture your day with out letting you be aware off it .\n\nMax: but that sounds wrong \n\nDoctor: well max our unconscious can memorize something that you just glimpsed at by the finest of details with out letting you be aware of it but only 3 to however many months later. \n\nMax: wouldn't know the feeling. \n\nDoctor: Well max, I think our doctors know how to make you see again. \n\nMax: really \n\nDoctor : yes Max ( nurse nocks on the door) here Max the room is already been prepared. Come now and les get your sight back.\n\nMax: Uhm , well doctor this seems pretty fast now I don't know if I want that this quick\n\nDoctor: nonsense, come you must do this, it's a breakthrough.\n\nMax: ok \n\n After the surgery, max laying in down on a bed with doctor Quartz looking over him checking his eyes.\n\nMax: Quartz? ( max said confused) can I see you .\n\nDoctor : yes Max, you can see me \n\nMax : but doctor how is this possible. \n\nDoctor: We honestly still don't know . We are still working on it right now. Look Max I'm glad you woke up while I'm was still here, I have to tell you something you are the only one so far that has been able to see again. So everyone else in this community doesn't know yet. Ok?\n\nMax: ok. \n\n 1 day later \nDoctor: max what is the reason for this emergency meeting. \n\nMax : I don't want to see anymore doctor, I just don't , everyone, my friends, all my friends they look gross, they have these hairy sticks sticking out of them. Their faces look deformed and smashed all in the same time. \n\nDoctor: max have you seen yourself lately \n\nMax : what, what are you talking about .\n\nDoctor : I mean have you seen yourself in the mirror.\n\nMax: no I don't have one, I've been blind my whole life. . \n\nDoctor: ( he gets up and grabs a mirror form his desk) ok here look. \n\nMax : ahhhhhhjh! What am I . Why is my face -ahhh- no, there's no way, no! \n\nDoctor : Max it's ok your ok. Let me explain \n \nMax : ( sitting in a tight corner covering his eyes )\n\nDoctor :when you where born your mother was being treated for a very bad skin disease. Fortunately we had just discovered a cure for it thanks to a rare plant we found in Huaraz , Peru. What we didn't know was that the plant harvested a mini parasite that allows itself to grow inside your body. \n\nMax: what , there's now way man!( max said in a very sad stretched out tone) I look horrible\n\nDoctor : I'm sorry Max. The reason the others are like that are because of the same reason. Fortunately the are all blind like you once where. \n\nMax: doctor make me blind again. I can't, they all look so gruesome. And dead. \n\nDoctor: but Max, you can see. One of life greatest gifts, vision and you don't want it.\n\nMax: no I don't ( he said in a very sad sad face) I don't . Want to see. \n\n\n\n "
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Like Anger is kind of like tequila. Hard and bitter.
Love is a wine. Tastily sweet but addictive.
Happiness is a juice. Sugary and soft.
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[WP] Right before you die, Death appears. He leads you to his bar. He asks what drink you want. There are bottles named after various Elements of Life.You ask for a shot of Love/Revenge/Relief/Happiness etc. Each has a distinct taste.
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"Really late to the party but here it goes. \n\nOne minute I am sitting in the theater with my daughter. The next minute I watch as she falls to the ground in a spray of red. The minute after that is black.\n\nI wake up at home in the spare room, glad that it was nothing but a horrible nightmare. I gather my thoughts and go to check up on my Isabella. My feet feel heavier as I go down the seemingly never ending hallway. Her bedroom door is there but it feels wrong. I go to open it and the handle is cold to the touch and feels like death, I draw back. I wrap my hand in the sleeve of my shirt and try again. The door won’t open. I throw all of my weight into it but it doesn’t budge. It’s as if a cement wall was built behind the door. In a panic I run to my room as fast as my feet will take me. I call out my wife’s name as I get to the door and go to burst into the room but nothing. The door won’t move. The handle is warm and fills me with a feeling I can’t describe. I call out their names and when no one answers I slump to the floor in a ball of tears. I’m confused. As I lay against the door I hear a heartbeat. No two heartbeats but one is smaller. I pull myself up and go back towards my daughters’ door. I need to listen for a heartbeat. My feet get heavier with every step. I reach her door. It’s still cold. I put my ear against the wood paneling and listen. No heartbeat. I stood there for what seemed like hours in hopes to hear her heartbeat. All I heard was silence. I couldn’t even hear my own heartbeat.\n\nI drop to the floor and pray to whoever will listen. Although I am not a religious man I would have agreed to anything from anyone to hear her heartbeat through that door. I try to remember what happened last night. I went to the movies with Bella. She wanted to see that new kid’s movie. Why can’t I remember?\n\n“Don’t think about it too much, you don’t want to remember.”\n\nI lift my head up and there is this kid in front of me, he couldn’t be older than 11. He was lanky and dressed in a relaxed suit with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows and had a dishrag hanging off of his hip. \n\n “What do you mean I don’t want to remember? Who are you? Why are you in my house? Where is my family?”\n\n“You are actually in my house… well your house is in my house but that’s not important.\nWhat is this boy talking about? This isn’t his house. “I can hear your thoughts you know. Why don’t you follow me Jacob and I will answer your questions.” How did he know my name? I pull myself up off of the floor and go to follow this boy. I take one last look at my daughters’ door as we walk away. \n\n We go downstairs.\n\n\n\nI was expecting to walk into my kitchen instead we walked into a lavish bar. The floor was a black mahogany that stretched throughout the entire room. There were several private booths with leathered seats and shimmering white curtains that drop from the ceiling that went all the way up into nothing. The bar was something out of a luxury magazine. As I stood there gawking at the lavish features, the kid went behind the bar and began cleaning a smoothie glass. Isabella loved smoothies. I quickly snapped back to reality and went to sit at the bar. I had some questions to ask him and he better have some answers. Before I could say anything he began talking. “My name is Gusion. I am a fallen angel who can discern the past, present or future. I brought you here in hopes to help you find peace before death. I only help those whom have passed but cannot move on. You are in my own personal domain. I had hoped to make your transition smoother by having you wake up in your own house. I was supposed to greet you at the door but my last appointment ran late. I apologize for anything you may have endured while I was busy.”\n\nSo I died. How? I was only at the theater. An image of my daughter covered in red flashed before me. “I told you not to remember.” He talks so nonchalantly as if he has done this dozens of times. “I don’t understand. Does that mean my daughter is dead too?’ He began pouring me a drink not even acknowledging my question. “Think of an emotion or a feeling and this drink will taste like that feeling. For this is the life bar and it will hopefully help you get where you need to go.” The glass was simple, the liquid was clear. This has to be a dream. I have nothing to lose so why not. I touch the glass and think of happiness. The liquid swirls and becomes yellow. Happiness is now written on the front. I take my first sip.\n\nIt hits me all at once. Moments of my life flash by too fast for me to catch. I take a bigger sip and try to focus on it. The liquid tastes like lemons, sun and a hint of mint. Weird. I focus and an image pops up of the day I got married, then the day I got a promotion. It ends with seeing my daughter laugh as she plays. I can’t believe it actually worked. “Those are some nice moments. Try another one. Just think of it and it shall be.” This kid is weird but this is a once in a lifetime deal. “Hey kid, can you tell me why I couldn’t open the bedroom doors?” He didn’t even look up from his work when he answered. “Those doors are the doors of life. Whoever sleeps in those rooms has their heartbeat tethered to them. I can check in on any door in the universe. Those doors are only meant for listening.”\n\nIf what this kid says is true then my precious daughter Isabella is gone. I touch the glass. The liquid swirls from a yellow into a deep pink but it doesn’t stay pink it changes to different shades. Almost like the liquid was breathing. Love is written on the front. I take a swig and close my eyes real tight in hopes to catch moments of my life. It tastes like cinnamon hearts and makes me feel warm inside like a bowl of hot soup on a winter’s day. My wife! We were so young back then. It was the day we met. She is so beautiful. Another one flashed passed and I tried to catch it but I missed it. Without opening my eyes I took another sip trying to bring it back. It was a normal day. I was home sick and Janet had stayed home from work to take care of me. She made me soup. I let out a soft chuckle. I drink the rest and an image of my daughter shows up. It was the day she was born. She was so small, a soft little bundle. The image starts to fade as the taste of the liquid leaves my mouth. I open my eyes and ask the kid for some more. \nHe pours me some more clear liquid but does so with a warning. “I know you want to relive all of those moments but you shouldn’t. You wouldn’t want to end up like me. I can no longer taste any emotions. I once sat here, like you did and drank and drank until I could no longer taste. I should have heeded the tenders warning. I was foolish.” We sit in silence as I grasp the cup. I become overwhelmed with a sense of sorrow. Will this cup be the last time I can ever feel anything. I began to remember days where my wife was sick and couldn’t get out of bed, days when we weren’t sure if she would live. Days where we cried together at the news we could never have another child. Without even realizing it the cups liquid had changed to a soft blue. Sorrow was scrawled on the front. I was drinking it absent mindedly. \n\nI didn’t know what to do. I had felt happiness, love and now sorrow. I want to stay here and drink forever but eventually I won’t be able to taste anything. I was supposed to drink these to move on. I can’t help but want to hold on tighter. “No one ever drinks the sad ones. All everyone wants to feel is the good ones. You have a choice to make but I can’t tell you what the choices are.” With those words he disappeared, leaving me at the bar with this liquid of life. I could move on and hope to see my daughter again but I couldn’t leave my wife. She is all alone now. I get up from the stool and leave the clear liquid in its cup. I walk back upstairs until I reach my wife’s door. This is where I will stay. I will listen to her heartbeat and as long as I have that I can relive all of those emotions without the liquid. I slouch against the door with my head rested against it. I convince myself that I will only stay for a little while and I can move on whenever I want to. I close my eyes and listen. Two heartbeats.",
"It ended in a flash. I was walking down Van Buran when the truck come from nowhere. I felt like I was torn from my body. I opened my eyes looking at a woman, roughly in her late twenties. \n\n\"You gonna stare or get up?\" She said in a melodic voice. I sat up with a blinding pain in my head, I got a better look this time. She was pretty tall, with a winter white hair, and hazelnut skin. \n\n\"Ow,\" I involuntary said. \n\n\"Sorry, every time I do that it I have to rip your soul.\" She leans back and heads toward a bar counter I never seen before. I get up looking at myself, I was a snowy transparent. \n\nI sit at the bar, \"May I have a scotch?\"\n\n\"Sure, rage or depression?\" I look at her confused, \"Okay listen, every human drink you know has an emotion flavor to it. Scotch has rage or massive depression as a flavor choice. So which one?\" I had been here a total of five minutes and I already hated her. \n\n\"Fine depression.\" She waves her hand, two bottles appeared; one bottle necked filled with a abysmal liquid and the other just a shot glass. As the glass fills, I hear a thousand souls crying.\n\n\"Every human who has ever felt depression fills this bottle,\" she explains as I shudder the drink. It was an awful taste. \"So Alison, I have heard good and bad things about you. As the ruling judge of the underworld, you have two choices.\"\n\n\"Two?\" I asked, scared.\n\n\"One, accept your judgment and become a soldier of Anubis or two, try to best me in a drinking game.\" \n\nMy head was reeling, become an eternal ruler or try to beat death at a drinking game. \n\n\"I will accept your challenge.\" \n\n\"The rules are simple, I will pour four drinks. Despair, anger, guilt, and vengeful. If you can drink all four without giving into the emotion , you win.\" \n\n--------------------\n\n\"Welcome, would you like a drink?\" \n\n\n\n*Sorry for the grammar mistakes, writing on mobile with huge thumbs. Anyways hope you enjoy.*",
"Death appeared in front of me - minutes before I was going to die. At least it was in my sleep, thankfully. I wasn't going to die some cruel or horrid death.\n\nHe appeared as a hooded figure, but not the skeleton of legend, rather as a man with a face that was old and looked rather bearded, much like a Mountain man stereotype. Death wore a red flannel shirt, and spoke with an American accent, a twang that sounded very Appalachian.\n\n\"Look, I'll get right to it.\" Death said, \"I'm fixin' to get you to go to either heaven or hell, and you're probably afeared of me. I get that all of the time. Of all the forms I had to take, I ended up getting some woodsman. But before I can get you to heaven or hell, there's one thing you gotta do first.\"\n\nI was astonished. Death literally staring me in the face. Not in the real world, but in the dream world, the plane that you would probably find Mister Mxzptlk in.\n\n\"What's that?\" Alt!Me asked Death, in a rather confused tone.\n\n\"You gotta come with me to a bar. Well, this one's a bit like that of a certain TV show. You can't enter Heaven or Hell without having drunk a specific elixir.\" Death said, matter-of-factly.\n\nDeath took Alt!Me to a bar - it looked very like the Woolpack from Emmerdale, but with no people in.\n\n\"So what do you want?\" Death asked \"Hundreds of drinks, elixirs here.\"\n\n\"I don't know... a beer maybe.\" Alt!Me said.\n\n\"Try these shots, these are the only elixirs you need, they'll get you into heaven or hell, and you must take them, no choice really.\" Death said.\n\n\"OK, but what are they called then?\" Alt!Me asked Death.\n\n\"Elements of Life. Emotional drinks really, with hundreds of tastes. Different taste every time.\" Death said, sounding much like a TV show salesman or chef.\n\n\"I'll have the Elements of Life then, which ones you recommend?\" Alt!Me asked\n\n\"Go for Anger, Love, Revenge, Relief\", Death said. \"Hundreds of others - look at the sheet of paper near the till.\"\n\n\"OK, I'll take shots of Love, Revenge, Happiness and Excitement\" Alt!Me said.\n\nDeath went and brought back some small shot glasses, filled with colored shots.\n\nFor Love was red, but a more maroony-color, Happiness was a silvery colour, and Excitement was a blue color.\n\nThe first shot I drank was Love, it tasted sort of sugary-sweet not unlike a Thornton's fudge, Revenge was tasteless, but Happiness had a sort of peppery taste not unlike a Mexican meal or an Indian takeaway. Excitement had a sort of minty taste about it for some odd reason.\n\n\"You've drunk the requisite elixirs\" Death said. \"Now, as your physical form goes, we can take you to heaven or hell, but seeing you, you're more likely to end up in Heaven, at least, you seemed just too, well, a bit, er... different for my liking.\"\n\nThen Death lead me on along a small windy road and I would find out where I'd end up when I disappeared from this world for good.",
"As I lay dying in a hospital bed, getting run down in a crosswalk, I didn't know what to expect. Would it be like falling asleep? I was having trouble keeping my eyes open. Would it be \"the next great adventure?\" Would I sit before some kind of judge like Hades, Osiris, or Saint Peter?\n\nWhatever I expected, what I saw after I closed my eyes for the final time was the last thing I expected.\n\nIt was a high-class bar. Something you'd expect only the wealthiest and the most influential would drink at, where only the rarest and most expensive spirits were drunk.\n\nUpon seeing the bartender, I was afraid that I might be a spirit to drink.\n\nShe was not young or old looking, but the air about her screamed \"ancient,\" \"respect,\" and \"powerful.\" She looked up at me and smiled sadly, and gestured me to sit at the bar immediately in front of her. Upon getting a good look at her, she was beautiful, dressed in all black. Her hair was red as autumn leaves, ready to fall. Her skin was a milky pale, nearly bone white, but not quite.\n\nShe spoke softly, like she was trying to be gentle. “Hello, Sean.” Even her voice was like beautiful music. In the back of my mind, it sounded like it would perfectly accompany an elegy.\n\nI stare a moment, caught between marveling at her beauty and how she knew my name. As my mind caught up to recent events, I spoke with utmost respect and a little fear. “Hello. I don’t know how I should address you; you’ve had many names over the years, haven’t you?”\n\nShe smiles again, with a little less sorrow and a little more humor. “Thanatos, Anubis, Hel, Le Muerte, Yama… Humanity has been so diverse, I’m a little flattered to have been honored with so many names.”\n\nI smile wistfully, and say “Alas, humanity will all pay their debts of life to you, eventually.”\n\nShe sags and I think I just upset her. She speaks with a great pain. “A debt I wish I never have to collect so soon.” She looks in my eyes and grabs my hand as if to support and comfort me. “I’ve had to collect on so many, more than you could possible imagine. From all walks of life, all cultures, all ages, sex, genders, and even where they fall on the axis of good and evil…”\n\nI want to say that it’s okay, that it’s just life and life isn’t fair. Death is much more fair than Life, in both meanings of the word.\n\nI decide to change the subject a little. “So, why are you a bartender in the afterlife? Or is this limbo?”\n\nShe looks up at me her expression has a little less sorrow. “I believe the saying is ‘Everyone deserves a last drink?’” She waves at the counter behind her, filled with many different bottles, each filled with different liquids. “The Elixirs of Life, all of life’s pleasures, and pains, ups and downs, good times and bad; all filled up in a bottle.”\n\nShe stands up straight, professional and smiling. This seems to be the one part of her job that she enjoys. “Take your pick of drinks; we’ll be here for a while, until you’re ready to go.”\n\n“Could I take a shot of love?” I ask hesitantly. She smiles a little, expecting this, and takes out a large, curved bottle with a short neck and a small glass. Her expression looks a little sad, as she pours just a little into a shotglass. I look at her hesitantly and she give me a nod of permission. I give a little toast to her, and throw the bubbly liquid back.\n\nInstantly, all my senses are ensnared. I feel pleasant warmth surging through my chest and spreading throughout my body. I feel strong enough to fight an army; I feel the power to change the world coursing through my veins. It lasts but a moment and it leaves me feeling cold and wanting.\n\nI look at her asking what happened. “When someone lives and dies, they not only take with them their lives, but they leave behind things that go into the world, other bottles.”\n\nI realize that what I drink here, I take from the world. I decide to make my next drink one to count. “If that’s the case, I’ll take a tall glass of vengeance please.”\n\nShe looks at me in surprise, then takes out a small bottle and a large mug. The bottle is small enough to fit inside. She pops it open, and pours, and pours, and pours impossibly large amount of a nasty looking dark red liquid from it, thin and almost like broth, until it fills the mug to the brim. She push it towards me.\n\nI hesitate for a few moments, then I grab my nose and chug the liquid revenge, trying to finish the whole emotion in one go. The moment I set down the empty mug, I grip the wooden bar in anger, tears rolling down my eyes. My head pounds with tears, and I feel the spite and the momentary anger I’ve felt for anyone and anything over the years. The woman who left me for someone else, the playground bully who took my lunch money, the old lady paying in pennies in the checkout line. I feel all the frustration, and nearly unstoppable urge to deal out my own brand of justice on them. I feel that they deserve it!\n\nI feel a hand on my shoulder and see my bartender drawing me back down from it. I take a deep breath and calm down, though I can still feel it pounding in my head, and the love potion in my chest.\n\nShe pours me a cup of something milky and light-looking and tells me to drink. I do so and I’m filled with a light comfort. I can recall when my sister read books to me when I was little, the good times with my partner just laying on the couch with each other, the time spent petting my cat and her butting her head against my ankles. I can feel tears again, but they are different ones from my last drink. I feel lighter, and better able to control myself. I ask her what it was.\n\n“Joy,” is her simple answer. “A small amount compared to what you brought to others.” She says it with a genuine and proud smile. I was a teacher in life, I helped others, I found solace and fulfillment in their smiles.\n\nI look at her and say that I think I’ve had enough to drink. She smiles and walks around the bar, her autumn hair loose behind her back. She helps me up, and lets her hang on her arm, escorting me out the bar door, and to a place beyond imagination and description.\n\n**This was my first time writing here, so please give me some feedback. Thank you!**"
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[WP] The captain has ordered all hands to abandon ship. Half of the crew complies, and begins manning the lifeboats. The other half refuse--they intend to stay and fight.
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"\"We're only 2 days to Mercury! It's too late to give up now!\"\n\n\"Is this mutiny, Officer Hannel?\"\n\n\"If it means we have a chance at reaching Mercury, then yes Captain.\"\n\n\"Well you can take your chances with the Martians, and I'll see you in hell.\"\n\nOfficer Hannel looked back at his fellow crewmates. \"Who's with me?!\" He said, holding his fist up. About half of them held their hand up and nodded.\n\n\"Even you, Kennsy?\" said the Captain. \"FINE! Everyone else, get to the escape shuttle.\"\n\nThere was now half of the crew required to run a spaceship left on board one of the most complicated scientific vessels in the entire fleet. The Martian cylindership approached silently, visible only as a dim red light. Hannel spoke to his crew.\n\n\"As of right now I am assuming command of the H.M.S. Sunchild. Man your stations. We need weapons and engines as a priority. Retract any nonessential equipment on the outer hull.\"\n\nThe Sunchild's solar boilers and heliograph signal mirrors were folded down flat against the propellant tanks. The cowling of the rocket engine was extended partway to cover itself.\n\n\"Engineer Dosch, you have the helm.\"\n\nThe Sunchild pitched its nose to face the Martian spacecraft, and the engineer opened the engine regulator to full. The rocket motors spooled up, slowly at first, until the ship was accelerating at half a gee directly towards the Martian Cylinder.\n\nThe Martian Cylinder turned on their lasers.\n\n\"Commander Hannel, the Cylinder is firing its heatrays!\"\n\n\"Turn the heliography mirror towards it.\"\n\n\"Aye.\"\n\nThe heat ray was deflected off of the mirror, back towards the cylinder. The black armor plating absorbed much of the heat, and the hull began to glow cherry red. The heat ray stopped, and re-aimed. A short blast at high power vaporized the connection between the Sunchild and her mirror, and now the cylinder was free to vaporize the propellant tanks.\n\n\"Spin the ship up, even out the heat.\"\n\nThe Sunchild was no match for the heatrays, charged up to a full power by the vast batteries which charged directly from sunlight. Hannel thought back to the Heatray Test Article, a device which was made after the first Martian attack in 1868. It was able to boil a cup of water at best, but it could not even approximate half of the power of a handheld heatray.\n\nThe propellant tanks of the Sunchild burst open, spewing the propellant out at high speed. The rocket motor, still attached to the spine of the Sunchild, sputtered to a stop. Hannel looked through the telescope at the Cylinder, and noticed that it too had been heavily damaged by the Sunchild's mirror trick. The Cylinder backed off into the darkness, still glowing red, while the Sunchild's hulk drifted away.\n\nHannel realized that he was the only person with astrogation qualifications, and quickly set to calculating the Sunchild's new trajectory. By an unhappy coincidence, the ship seemed to be on a course to rendezvous with Mercury in only 1 day.\n\nMercury is a tidally locked world, with a thin band of liquid water along the region of perpetual twilight. Its atmosphere was turbulent from the interactions between the extreme heat and the extreme cold of the two sides. (Not really, but shut up)\n\nThe craft entered the Mercurian atmosphere, and promptly burned up. The crew pod, travelling still at several kilometers per second, survived heating and smashed into the ocean.\n\nHannel and his crew, however, survived. They still had the landing craft, and used it. They landed on the frigid far side of Mercury, and they had no way of sending a heliograph signal for rescue.\n\nThey were barely able to make it to sunlight before they ran out of rations, where they feasted on the plants which were able to grow there. They they died of food poisoning, an unfitting end to these proud warriors.",
"Being a sharkperson has its perks. I guess the greatest thing about it is that sharks don’t want to eat you and neither do people. Both are the major hunting species in their respective environments but both have this hangup on “cannibalism” and how its *not* OK to eat their own species. Well, that’s great news for me. Since sharkpeople are technically both their species, I’m pretty safe. Hooray, right?\n\n\nWell, it’s not all bloody water filled with people food. There are some downsides. Like the whole visiting our land family part. I’m more of a water living sharkperson, but my cousins (on my mother’s side) like to stick to the land. So if I want to go visit them (which I never truly do) - land is where I need to go. In this particular case, it was my cousin’s sandbar mitzvah, and I’m not about to miss my little sharkboy cousin turning into a sharkman. So, I had to bite the bait and travel to the land. Now how do I travel on land? By landship of course!\n\n\nLandships are the worst though. They’re clumsy oafish things that are too susceptible to crashing. Yeah - they go fast, but whatever, sharkpeople swim pretty damn fast too. The honest truth is, my dorsal fin never feels quite right while sitting on land chairs and the captains of these ships are rude as hell. I have nightmares of them yelling, “Next stop New York! Move it or lose it!” They swivel open their doors and pressure you to leave quickly. They don’t care if I forget my phone or wallet… I’m just another sharkperson in the millions of sharkpeople they interact with daily. Why should they give a hoot about my wellbeing? I digress. \n\n\nEither way, on the way to the sandbar mitzvah the landship breaks down on the side of the road. The captain gets off the landship and high tails on out the place by hitching a ride from a passing mini-landship. Well, I’m not going to just stand aside and follow that sharkass out into the wilderness of land, so I stay on the landship and wait this shit out. Someone will help out, right?\n\n\nApparently, I was misinformed, because no one came along to help and half of the other passengers up and left! So, I’m here with a half full landship and no one is around to help, and I think we hit rock bottom. Wrong. Because only moments later we hear a buncha motors rocking down the highway in our direction, and you know who’s causing that ruckes? BUGBIRDS! A bunch of bugbirds on my road will never work… so I screamed to the other passengers “It’s chomping time!” I was such a badass, I ran off the landship straight at the bugbirds! No one followed. But whatever, they were just bugbirds - I ate them and was pretty happy with myself. \n\n\nI called my cousin and got a lift the rest of the way. \n\n\n**I hope to add more to this late, just wanted to put something up for now**",
"It's a family business, this fishing boat of ours.\n\nMe, my four brothers (Eric, Jason, Jim, and Tim), my one sister (Pam) and my father (Jack) all board it about four times a year and spend some time on the open seas to have some fun and make some money. It's good pay, definitely, but it's always been more about the fun! Our lives... well, they shoot off in such wild paths that we rarely get to see each other anymore. Though Jim, Tim and Pam may not like to admit it, we all always miss each other and look forward to these trips.\n\nIt's with that fact in mind that I'm ignoring the shit out of my dad. Eric and Jason are doing the same, despite my insistence not to. Stubborn old mules. Always have been. I guess I just don't have the time to convince them otherwise. I guess...\n\nI guess it is a little comforting that I won't die alone.\n\n\"Eric! Give Jason dad's shotgun. You keep the pistol. I guess... I'll go with the damn knife. We need to be smart about this! If we are, maybe we CAN make it out of this!\"\n\nWe were living a fucking nautical horror movie. What this creature was that was attacking us, none of us knew - a leviathan? A kraken? Goddamned Cthulhu?! It didn't matter. In the end, half of our family was on a lifeboat out of here, and whatever this ugly son of a bitch is, we need to keep it busy.\n\nTim. Jim. Jason. Eric. Pam. Dad. I love you guys so much. Tim, Jim, Pam, Dad... try to make sure we aren't throwing our lives away in vain. Get away. Please, get far, far away.\n\n\"LET'S MOVE! IT'S NOW OR NEVER! KEEP OT BUSY AS LONG AS WE CAN!\"",
"“It’s not possible”, whimpered Kyle, a massive man who I’d seen lift tuna as if it weighed less than a lifejacket. \n\nI’d never heard him sound so weak in the five years we worked together. He was the strongest man I knew. His ridiculous beard was almost a foot long, he was stubborn enough to keep it going even when it started getting tangled in netting. He was in shock from a massive amount of blood loss and in the commotion I didn't know what to do except press my hands against the gaping wound in his chest. \n\n“Don’t talk just-“\n\nI was interrupted by a loud crack, it sounded like a massive whip breaking bones. A horrifying snarl drowned out the cries of several grown man as they ran to the opposite side of the ship away from the spectacle unfolding before them. A long tentacle could be seen for just a second wrapped around the trawler’s bridge as the entire cabin was ripped from the bow. Within seconds, the whole front of the ship was exposed, cracks of wood and pieces of the mast resembled the maw of a hideous creature. John, the man who got me my spot on the Trawler, a man who’s family I had eaten with and spent holidays with, he was ripped completely in half as he got caught in the wreckage. His torso was impaled on to a piece of wood, his eyes met mine as his gushing blood colored the bow’s newly formed teeth. \n\n“What.. the.. fuck”, I stammered, and then started shouting “What the fuck is going on!” \n\nI felt a hand on my shoulder. It was Brian, his face was haggard, and his jean overalls were coated in blood like my hands. Without a word he pointed towards the one lifeboat we had. A few of the men had made it; they were bravely waiting for the rest of us. About 30 seconds before the monster ripped our ship in half, Captain Anderson had ordered us to abandon ship over the intercom. We thought it was joke. We couldn’t see what he saw.\n\nThe warmth on my hands was spreading. I looked down at Kyle, his eyes were shut. He had stopped breathing.\n\nI dropped Kyle’s body on to the deck and stood up. The captain died warning us, the whole navigation crew died with him. They were all on the bridge when it was destroyed. Even if we all made it to the lifeboat, this creature would surely kill us.\n\n“We have to fight”, I told Brian calmly. A sense of serenity and purpose had replaced my fear.\n\nBrian’s eyes widened. He started tugging my arm. In a high-pitched anger he replied, “Fight what! What are we fighting!? Have you lost your mind?!”\n\nRipping my arm from his grasp I made my way to a stack of harpoons. I took two, and tossed one to Brian. He didn’t even try to catch it as it clattered across the deck to the other side of the ship. Instead he ran for the lifeboat. I didn’t blame him. I turned away from the surviving members of the crew now piled into the small pathetic raft dangling off the ship’s stern. I was the last one on the deck as I heard a loud plop, and then the buzzing of a small motor. \n\nI started to shiver, the cold mist of the ocean mixed with the warm stickiness of Kyle’s blood still caked on my hands. It was surreal, but at the same time I’d never felt so alive. Fear came back, I starting to doubt my decision. Why did I stay to fight an unknown enemy with odds stacked against me? Why did I disobey my captain’s orders? These questions raced through my mind, but I stayed, my feet remained firmly planted on the deck. The harpoon felt smooth in my hand, the harpoon gave me hope.\n\nAround me the ocean roared and rocked the boat back and forth, a storm was brewing but the rain was still far off in the distance. The trawler started to creak loudly as it began to collapse. Water had started rushing into the lower deck due to the damage caused by the monster. \n\nAfter about a minute I looked behind me, and my heart sunk. By now the lifeboat should have been several hundred feet from the trawler, still within view. But it was gone. As if it never existed to begin with. \n\nI gripped the harpoon harder and harder until I couldn’t feel my hands. I felt the ship sinking into the ocean; the deck was becoming slick with ocean water making it harder to stand on. I started to lose my footing and- \n"
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[WP] A classic, fire breathing dragon, hoarding gold and all, has appeared in the mountains by New York. You are on the crew that is going up to investigate, armymen, scientists, goverment officials. But of all the people the dragon could talk to, he chooses you.
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"I knew my love of animals and their like (tolerence) of me would get me killed one day. \n\nI just thought I'd get eaten by a bear or fall down a chasm because I was looking at a fucking bird. (Emphatic fuck though I probably would stare at copulating poultry). \n\nMy boyfriend is some sciencey government person. ( I know the title!) he got chosen to meet the dragon because well it looks like a reptile and he has a doctorate in that. And has written much on it. \n\nI got to tag along because nepotism. \n\nAlso it's a motnerfucking dragon. \n\nSo while everyone is sciencing or gawking (I wasn't the only one) I let it slip \n\n\"Aw look how cute it is! I'd call him George!\" And love him a la abominable snowman. \n\nThe dragon rose, let out a long smokey breath and spoke:\n\n\"I am female!\" \n\nAnd well I didn't get eaten by a dragon but I did get salmonella after not being eaten by the dragon and getting permission to call her Georgia. I patted her and touched my face at somebody point. \n\nGross. ",
"The \"Anomaly\" had appeared in New York a few weeks ago. Almost immediately, the Government had descended on the area and quarantined it off. The roar of helicopters and the rumble of trucks had been a constant nuisance ever since then, accompanied by the blaze of bright white light from a ravine blotting out the night sky, ruining any further chances of stargazing as long as the ordeal dragged on. \n\nDetails on the Government's investigation of said anomaly were sketchy at best, since Uncle Sam was doing a serious job of keeping the media as far away from the quarantine zone as possible, and keeping tight-lipped about the whole thing. Still, a few tidbits of information managed to slip out. It was obvious things weren't going as planned when a constant stream of ambulances moved back and forth between the QZ and the hospital several times a week. \n\nThis went on for weeks. Then, one day, the traffic stopped. Things seemed to quiet down. I was rather pleased at this, though that blasted light still shown like the sun at night, and I seriously contemplated writing my otherwise useless Congressman about it.\n\nNot long thereafter, on a rainy night after I'd spent the day working in the herb garden, a knock came on my door. Now, I live in the boondocks, out in the middle of the forest. My cabin is near a small river, with a tiny rutted road leading to it. The place isn't easy to find, and that's the way I like it. So you can imagine my irritation when someone banged on my door in the middle of the night and shouted my name. \"Mr. Inman! United States Government!\"\n\nI didn't really care who they were, there was no call for rudeness. I threw the blanket off my lap, rose out of my chair, and crossed to the door. I threw it open and scowled at the uniformed man and his two cohorts standing in the rain. \"What do you want?\" I demanded.\n\n\"Mr. Inman?\" \n\nI scowled. \"There's no one else in these parts for fifty miles. Who did you think you were going to find here?\"\n\n\"I need you to come with us, Mr. Inman. It's a matter of national security.\"\n\n\"Don't be ridiculous.\" I turned to close the door in their faces.\n\nThe lead soldier propped the door open. \"Sir, I must insist. If you do not come peacefully, I'll be forced to arrest you and take you against your will.\"\n\nI scoffed. \"For the sake of argument, let's say I come willingly. What is this national security threat?\"\n\nHe shook his head. \"I'm not authorized to reveal that, sir. You'll be debriefed when we reach the compound.\"\n\nI shot them a look, shrugged, grabbed my coat and followed them outside. They escorted me to a black SUV. It was amazingly comfortable inside, but the dark windows made things difficult to see out of. We sped off down the road, and drove for almost an hour, down long winding roads and through the deeper parts of the forest until we crested a small hill and then began descending into the ravine where all those blasted lights were set up in a circle. There, in the middle of the light ring was a sight to behold.\n\nA colossal mound of treasure--mostly gold and jewels--was piled in the valley floor. Squatting on top of it was a lizard the likes of which mankind hadn't seen since the days of legend. It was easily half the length of a football field, and bat-like wings sprouted from its back. It was green and covered in scales, and its tail writhed back and forth like a cat's. Wisps of smoke curled up from its nostrils, and curled up out of its mouth around long spike-like teeth.\n\n\"So that's your anomaly, eh?\"\n\nThe big cheese, who had claimed shotgun, remained as stoic as ever. \"I'm not authorized to reveal any information sir. You'll be debriefed--\"\n\n\"Yeah, yeah. When we get to the compound. I know.\"\n\nI gazed at the dragon the entire time we drove. Its size only grew more impressive the closer we got. It seemed to be asleep, but signs of recent activity became plainly evident. A ring of scorch marks encircled the treasure pile. What used to be tents were now piles of smoldering ash and plastic. All the men were bivouacked far away from the slumbering beast.\n\nWe arrived at our destination and climbed out of the vehicle. An old, grizzled soldier limped over to us with a dour expression on his face. \"Mr. Inman? I'm General McGavin. Everything you're about to see and hear is classified. If you reveal any of this information to anyone, you will be punished for treason under the espionage act. Is that clear?\"\n\nI fixed him with a cold stare. He seemed unimpressed. Then again, so was I.\n\n\"The anomaly appeared about a month ago,\" he began.\n\n\"You mean the dragon.\"\n\n\"The anomaly...\" he started.\n\n\"Don't be an idiot,\" I retorted. \"It's a dragon. Calling a pile of crap a cherry doesn't make it a cherry.\"\n\nHe ground his teeth together. A vein began pulsing in his temple. \"Fine,\" he growled. \"The dragon appeared about a month ago. We established QZ shortly thereafter, and sent in a team to investigate. Every time a team gets within fifty yards, the anom--dragon--sets fire to the ground. We've had a lot of people sent to the hospital due to burns, heat exhaustion and smoke inhalation.\"\n\n\"Anyone dead?\"\n\n\"Not yet.\"\n\n\"Thought not.\" I started walking toward the dragon.\n\n\"Where are you going?\"\n\nI stopped and looked at him. \"Why am I here, General? You've got soldiers, scientists, and field specialists that can't get close. So you sent for me. A loner living in the middle of the woods.\"\n\nHe sighed. \"The dragon burned your name into the soil.\"\n\n\"So you figure he wants to talk to me.\" I chuckled and looked from the dragon back to the General. \"Smartest thing you've done yet.\"\n\nI walked away from the General, ignoring his sputtering protestations. I passed out of the ring of tents and towards the charred ring of ash that marked the dragon's personal space. I approached slowly, making no aggressive moves, keeping my hands out in front of me. A few feet from the pile, I stopped and sat down on the ground, and crossed my legs. \"Well,\" I said, \"I'm here.\"\n\nThe dragon cracked an eyelid. \"About time,\" came its sleepy reply.\n\nI gazed across the sizable pile of treasure. \"You've been busy,\" I noted.\n\nThe dragon yawned mightily and then shrugged. \"This crap? It's just fare. You know you can't cross the Barrier without it. And rates have gone up. Otherwise, I wouldn't have been caught dead with this gawdy crap.\"\n\n\"You'll have to take it with you. You can't leave it for the humans. It'll throw their economy into chaos.\"\n\nThe dragon seemed to consider this. \"True. What we don't need we'll throw into the Void.\"\n\n\"Wait. What do you mean, 'We'?\"\n\nThe dragon seemed perplexed. \"You haven't forgotten, have you? We have somewhere to be. Your task isn't finished yet. Your destiny is unfulfilled.\"\n\n\"Don't be foolish,\" I snapped. \"The only destiny I have is here, to live a full life and die of old age.\"\n\nThe dragon sighed with exasperation. \"It's true, then. You've forgotten who you once were. But this can be remedied.\" He inhaled deeply, and then slowly breathed out over me. \"Remember,\" he whispered.\n\nMemory came flooding back, ancient and full of sorrow. A different life--several different lives--spanning back centuries. So much joy, sadness, life and death. Central to all of them was this one promise: To protect the one who would restore the balance. It was a promise I had failed to keep. I was thankful I was sitting, or I'd have buckled under the weight of so much regret.\n\n\"What is your name?\" the dragon asked.\n\n\"Merle,\" I said.\n\n\"What is your name?\" the dragon asked.\n\n\"Merle Inman,\" I said.\n\n\"Are you sure?\" the dragon asked with a smile.\n\n\"Merle...Merlin.\" I said. \"Merlin. MERLIN!\" I scrambled to my feet, looking about. \"WHERE IS ARTHUR?\"\n",
"First day on the job and I'm sent to set up sensory equipment in the cave of a dragon. Not what my guidance counselor had in mind but still an interesting job. The van rolls to a stop and my supervisor starts yelling orders before the doors have even opened yet. Luckly all the equipment is tagged and labeled for easy set-up, got to love the government and their structure. I just out of the van and begin tossing extension cords over my shoulder and grab the first set of equipment and hurriedly head in.\n\nThe entrance is massive, so big in fact my first thought is how the whole mountain hasn't come down yet. Reminds me of the impossible caves you find in Minecraft. It takes a few minutes to get into the main area which is so dark I can barely see the men around me. But you can feel the difference in the air as smell of metal and reptile fills your nose. Then I see it. There is almost no light yet I can see the mountain of gold sparkling like distant stars all around me. But then like someone turning on the sun the whole cave is immediately lit up by hundreds of lights that the military has been installing for the last few days. It takes a few minutes for my eyes to adjust and when they do my stomach drops as I see something some dream of seeing, while it haunts the nightmares of the rest of us. This dragon is the biggest thing I have ever seen in my life. As the lights disturbs the creature it stretches out one of its taloned hands over all of us and I realize that I am no bigger than one of its razor sharp claws. Basically a squishy tic-tac, although I doubt I could freshen it's breath at all, I think as it lets out a big yawn. That's when I met eyes with the beast, a red orb of pure fire surrounded by deep green scales. I feel it burning it's way into my very soul. That's when I hear it.\n\n\"Did you just shit yourself?\"\n\nWhat? Did I just hear that or think it? Is that echo only in my mind? I look left and right, no one seems to be reacting.\n\nThe dragon snorts, \"No didn't shit yourself, but I do detect a slight trace of urine.\" *Sniff* the dragons head turns a bit. \"Yep, from that guy. How embarrassing for him. Watch this.\"\n\nThe dragon quickly moves his head and neck down and slowly opens his maw showing dozens of pointed teeth made to tear and shred it's prey (and likely whole buildings) to bits. But just as it gets within a few yards it stops dead and let's out a sharp snarl. \n\n\"There, I do believe he has fully unleashed his bladder.\"\n\nI look to the people there and see one man curled up on the ground silently weeping to himself.\n\n*sniff* \"And it appears he has filled his pants with his own pudding, how delightful.\"\n\n\"Why me?\" I think to myself.\n\n\"Because you are not like the rest of these people. They are interested only in data and the safety of the people outside this cave. But you, you are here for yourself. Only interest guides you here and I find that fascinating. You're not afraid of me, you are in awe of me.\" He says as his head snaps over in my direction. Once again opening his mouth and showing rows of nasty looking teeth. And I actually feel my hand raise to grab one when suddenly he raises his head and makes a noise I can only describe as a chuckle. \n\n\"This is what I am talking about. You meet your first dragon face to face and you try and reach into its mouth. You're either brilliant, or insane. Either way I have not met one like you in over a millennia.\" \n\n\"So what's next?\" I ask out loud, forgetting where I am for a moment. \n\nThe dragon rears his head back and gives me what I can only call a slight grin before I hear, \"This is what comes next.\" \n\nHe begins to get on his feet as I hear people around me begin to panic.\n\n\"Is he supposed to do that?\"\n\n\"I thought that he never moves more than his head!?\"\n\n\"Sweet tap dancing jesus, we are all going to die!!\"\n\nThe dragon then inhaled deeply before letting out a sound so loud all of us grabs our heads in fear of our ear drums bursting. Everyone begins to run for the entrance, screaming and stumbling over eachother as they scramble for the only way out. As the room clears and I am left alone the dragon audibly chuckles to himself and lowers his head to the ground next to me. His red eye never looking anywhere but at me. Without a word I begin climbing on top of his head. \n\n\"See? I didn't even have to ask and you knew what to do. This is going to be fun.\"\n\n\"What is?\" I ask.\n\n\"This.\" He says as he heads swiftly for the entrance. Before I know it we are outside and he extends his wings and takes to the air.\n\n\"This is amazing!\" I exclaim.\n\n\"This is only the beginning. We have much more interesting things to do.\"\n\n\"Like what?\"\n\n\"I heard that Kanye West guy is a real douche. How about I take a crap on his car? I can crush a whole motorcade with one bowl movement.\"\n\nI gasp as I spot something below us. \"That's a great idea, but first we should stop there.\" I say as I point at a building.\n\n\"What is a....Tacko Bell?\"\n\n\"Trust me, it's just what we need before this kind of run.\"",
"I still have no idea how it happened, how it knew of my name, nor how anyone even stopped to question why, after all these years of silence, the great beast would demand an audience with a specific person. Honestly, I would have been rather flattered, especially after the attempts of countless world leaders, to have been summoned in such a way. The only problem is, I was called for by my online pen name, the one I kept secret from everyone, even the dog. It's rather a frightening experience to have several black SUVs roll up and demand for your cooperation by a moniker you never wanted spoken aloud, especially given that handle appears on several websites your home country is determined to shut down. They also demanded I bring my laptop and a charging cable, but wouldn't explain why.\n\nAt least the questions on the ride over were easy enough, most of which only needed a simple \"I don't know\". The plane flight was quiet at least; gave me time to catch up on some TV shows I was lagging on. At least, I tried to, but the battery died half way and this plane wasn't exactly updated with the power outlets. Still curious as to why they didn't care that I deleted anything off of it. Heck, one of them even watched a show with me.\n\nAfter a rough car ride up to the beast's den, I was instructed to walk in alone, into the dark cave. Jerks couldn't even bother to give me a flashlight, had to use my phone like some sort of horror movie. I have to give credit though, the cave was very intimidating, but didn't feel dangerous or hazardous. I just felt like I didn't want to be there, but I was unlikely to injure myself in any way. Eventually, there was a light deep inside, but not a natural light like you'd expect, but a florescent one. It revealed several cables that ran along the cave wall, some power, and some appeared to be CAT5. Seeing the mass huddled over under the primary source of the light, I knocked lightly at the stone, \"Hello?\"\n\nFor all the books I've read and the illustrations I've seen over the years, something about seeing the creature in person just fills you with a sense of awe. It also gave me a sense of deja vu. \"You are Starcofski?\" It asked, lowering down it's head to meet my gaze (or force it away, getting mixed messages here). The only thing I still remember were the shifting green glaze of its large eyes.\n\n\"Y-yes, I am. Why did you call for me?\"\n\n\"I wanted to ask you about one of your works,\" it responded, shifting to the side such that I could see what it had been huddled over. It was a computer, and a fairly new one at that, definitely custom built. I could also see the screen had open a very familiar website. That was the point when everything clicked into place. \"I was wondering how you were able to capture such, detail, about my person? Especially as we have never met before...\" His voice trailed off, my mind already in panic mode.\n\n\"I-i-is there a problem with it, sir?\" I quivered, as the flywheel in my head snapped under the strain of all the gears spinning.\n\n\"No, not a problem, at least, not if you agree to my demands..\" his smile, oh god those teeth, I'm so dead.\n\n\"And what is it you require of me?\" Please don't be death, please don't be death, god dammit I still haven't even had a relationship yet!\n\n\"You drew it wrong.\" He stated, pointing at an element of the image. \"I can't have that, so I'll need you to fix it.\" I could feel my heart stop, and my brain as well. Like my entire existence just froze for a second.\n\n\"Is that all? You're not mad about it?\" I questioned, thinking it a ruse to put me off guard.\n\n\"Yes, now do you need me to pull out an extension cord or do you still have enough power left on your laptop?\"",
"Let's start with this, dragons exist. Now that we've accomplished that we may continue. \n\nI was summoned as part of the Dragon Talk Summit. They invited one of each group of profession: scientists, army men, firefighters even noble price winners alongside coders, plumbers and so on. My job isn't worth mentioning and it really isn't important so I'll just leave that out. \n\nWe had no idea what to expect or what will happen to us. On the date of the summit we waited outside of the mighty dragons cavern and congregated what our next move might be. That is when he bellowed with his mighty voice (That kind of resembled Benedict Cumberbatch for some reason) \"I wish to speak only with u/GameNCode.\" I began to feel a bit anxious as many puzzled faces suddenly stared at me. \"I wish you no harm... I would just like to talk with you, that's all\" and so I entered that cavern. \n\n\"Kind of wrote yourself into a corner haven't you? \" said the dragon. \"Pretty much\" I replied and with that the dragon vanished as did my interest in writing this",
"It all started around two weeks ago, when a scientific anomaly was discovered in Buffalo. A titanic, bipedal, winged lizard that has been spotted at the summit of tallest mountain. My team and I were called to the scene to investigate. Honestly, I thought it was just a decoration, or something... but I was dead wrong.\n\nIt was almost surreal. When we arrived at the mountain's summit, the creature landed in front of us, shaking the earth below. Upon landing, it released a mighty roar, launching a large jet of flame from its mouth, then tucked in its gigantic wings.\n\n\"Who dares come to Dragon's Peak?\" It bellowed, glaring straight into my soul. My coworker, Nathan, tried to speak, but was cut off. \"I do not wish to speak to you. I speak only to dragons.\"\n\nI could swear he stared at me while saying that. After a few moments, I mustered up the courage to talk to the beast. \"Do you have any dragon brethren we could speak to, instead?\"\n\n\"Yes... within you, human.\"\n\nWhat.\n\n\"You have the spirit of a dragon within you. The soul of an ineffable beast. You are a dragon, in all respects but physical. I'd be honored to speak to you, fellow dragon.\"\n\nAm I the Dragonborn or something?\n\n*****\n*Criticism appreciated. If you liked this story, check out /r/Picklestasteg00d.*",
"It was enormous. \n\nThat was what they always tell you in stories. They always mention the size of the beasts, unless they are making a point by calling it small. But that never really seems to impress just how large they really are. It was as if a whale - no, several whales - had been lined up end to end, and then melted like hot wax into one enormous, sinewy mass. Not that the dragon was fat, mind you. That's the first thing I learned, when I first started talking to dragons: Never, ever call one of them fat. \n\n\"Oy, fatass!\" I yelled. \"Why does your face look like a whale?\" \n\nMy voice reverberated pleasantly off the stony walls and piles of gold, making me sound several times louder than usual. The dragon, however, was unperturbed. Its eyes remained shut, it's smooth black scales reflecting the light from the treasure in such a way that they appeared outlined in gold leaf. \n\n\"Are you sleeping?\" I said, kicking a fist-sized ruby into the treasure. \"Lazy bastard. I bet you spend all day sleeping.\" \n\nI sat down on a mound of coins, sending several circles of gold tumbling. Still, the dragon didn't budge. \n\n\"You know, I waited my entire life to meet a dragon.\" I said, bouncing a coin on my palm. \"My entire life. I thought you were all legends...you know, just myth. And then you show up, right in my backyard...and you *won't talk to anybody*!\" \n\nI kicked the coins, scattering a priceless treasure over the dragon's back. One bounced off of its eyelids, and I could have sworn I saw a flutter of movement. But still, it didn't move. \n\n\"They warned me not to come in here. My dad would kill me if he found out - had to sneak away when he wasn't looking. But I'm done.\" I paced right over to the dragon's side. \"I'm done waiting for you to do something other than sit on your pile of crap all day long. I *know* you can talk, I *know* you can hear me...so I am going to *make* you listen to me, even if it gets me killed.\" \n\nI kicked a pile of gemstones, scattering them into the treasure. One happened to glance off of the strings of a gilded harp, causing the air to hum with sound. \n\n\"You know, you've got some pretty good acoustics in here, considering they say you dug it yourself.\" I said to the coiled mass. \"Mind if I try singing? I'm quite good...and loud.\"\n\n\"Oh-h say can you seeeee? By the dawns early light...~\" \n\nI didn't have time to react. Before I knew what was going on, the dragon had hefted me with one of it's massive clawed forelimbs and pinned me to the wall of the chamber. I let out a strangled yelp of pain, squirming to get away, but there was no escaping it's massive golden talons. Then, the dragon inclined it's head, bringing one massive circular eye in line with my own - and it spoke a single word. \n\n\"*Sing.*\" \n\n\nI coughed again, tasting blood where I had bitten my tongue. But then, with half of the air in my lungs, I began to sing again. \n\n\"O..ohhh say can you see...by the dawn's early light...\" \n\n\nThe dragon reared back it's head, as if to roar - but instead of fire, a beautiful melody coursed from it's throat like a river of honey. It was as if an entire orchestra resided in the dragon's maw, playing each part with precision and all the haunting grace of whalesong.\n\n\"That...was beautiful.\" I said, once we had finished. Tears streamed down my face - I hadn't even noticed when the dragon had let me go. \n\nThe scaled beast shrugged. \"*Return here, tomorrow.*\" It said, curling back up on its bed of gold. \n\n\"*And never call me fat again.*\""
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[WP] Your ship is hurtling in to Jupiter's atmosphere. You only have a few minutes to send a message explaining what went wrong and why it totally isn't your fault, like, at all.
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"The other guy finally decided to stop screaming,maybe now I can enjoy the view. The most beautiful thing in the world really, or is it in space? I'm not the best for technicalities like that,or at fault for the Alatreon One and it's crew's demise. I know it sounds a little petty that I'm taking my last moments to write this and,I couldn't give any less fucks to what it sounds like. My job was the engines,it was that other guy,the one screaming,what was his name? Laius? Yeah him,it was his job to perform the calculations for entering orbit with one of our engines blown. However he didn't get it through his thick skull that crucial detail of one engine. It's kind of like flying a plane really,you only need one engine but if you make a miscalculation on the landing,two might save you and,one will get you in the newspapers. A loud cracking sound had me turn from the view before me. Panting the pilot stepped back from Laius. The other engineer stared in awe of the scene before him: The pilot had used Laius's head to nearly break the window and stain it red in the process. \"Jesus christ,what the hell is wr-\" The pilot fell on the engineer in a fit of rage,pummeling him with his fists. Turning my head back to the view I spoke up to the holo recorder again. \"Now about the view,it's really amazing....\" I turned the recorder to see the stars streaked across the sky and the flames even,a bright,vibrant dance between orange and blue across the hull and the window of the ship filtering everything in that special color. As we drew closer I put the holo recorder to my chest,another man would have muttered his goodbyes,I had noone to say goodbye to. \"This is Everson Daily,the search for earth II was a failure,casualty report....\" I took a pause and looked at the pilot approaching me,deaf to his swears and shouting. With this failure of a mission more people would die back home,the air and water was nearly toxic everywhere and those were only a few of the problems. Instead of defending myself I looked to the holo-recorder and finished my sentence. \"Too many.\" ",
"I won't bother trying to reach anybody. Not now. I'm too far out, and even if anyone heard me the gravity would be too strong to pull me out of this descent. I'll be long dead by the time you read this message anyway. I'm falling into Jupiter. Well; I guess in technical terms I'm actually in a rapidly decaying orbit, but from where I'm sitting I may as well be falling. Your eyes can't really tell the difference anyway.\n\n Believe it or not it's actually quite serene, watching that huge planet fill my viewport. Like watching a massive undulating, angry sea, a whirlwind of gas and particles. Even still; this isn't quite how I wanted to go out. especially for such a stupid reason. A fuck up on my part really. I didn't plot my course properly; I was so busy trying to prove I was right, that a jump into a close orbit with Jupiter could shorten a trip to Titan by over thirty minutes, with minimal fuel consumption. But I fucked up; I was too hasty inputting my exit vector, busted my STL drive on exit from subspace. The explosion sent shrapnel ripping through my ship's hull, completely shredded the heat layer and inner pressure seal. Leaving me in what is essentially a tin can, floating through space towards a planet with a force of gravity so strong I will be crushed to one fifth the size of an atom. I almost didn't get my VAC suit on in time, not that it even matters.\n\nWell; I suppose I better sign off. Dust from Jupiter's upper atmosphere is already battering my ship, which means I only have a few minutes left. Don't even bother looking for me, I'll be long dead by the time this message reaches you. Bob; sorry I never paid you that ten bucks back, you can kick my ass for it when we meet on the other side. Jim, you can go fuck yourself. Kelly; I'm sorry I won't be there for our son, I hope you'll take care of him, raise him well, and know that I love you both more than anything. And I'll see you again, I promise. This is Explorer One, signing off.",
"Simeon,\n\n I have very little time to explain everything to you, so this will be light on the details. So first of all I'm sending this from your ship. Yes, I took it. And while I had fully intended on returning it to you, I'm not sure that's going to happen now. So long story short I'm gonna be a pile of ash on Jupiter's surface here in about 8 minutes if your ships shields don't hold up.\n\n Believe me when I say we're both hoping the shields hold up. I want to preface this by saying this is absolutely, 100% *not* my fault. I am emphatically sure of that. Sure, in my ill-guided attempt to have a joyride in your new cruiser I may have underestimated the complexity of the machine. And sure, I should absolutely have asked you first. And while I neglected the clearly labeled owners manual that sat in the cockpit I was sure I knew what I was doing. I mean, I do! It just so happens that the ships fuel ejection system button, and the button to do those fun barrel roll-y things are marginally similar. What an obvious design flaw!\n\n Plus, who just leaves their booze out in the open on their ship!? My point is this is definitely not my fault, like, at all. If anything this is your fault. So that being said it is only fair that, if the shields do, in fact, hold up, you make every effort to come recover me. Yes, I know Jupiter is a weeks trip from your dock, but this is the least you can do for me considering how you put my life in danger. \n\nWell, if this ships view screen is correct I'm about to hit the planet, so I'll be sending this off. Oh, were you saving that 300 year bottle of aged whiskey for anything? I mean I only drank half but I'm gonna be thirsty if I survive planet fall. Well, hope to see you soon, as I know you must be terribly worried about me. \n\nRegards,\n\n Your nephew, Annika. \n"
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[WP] you've fallen though the time stream and landed in the past. You hide warnings about the future in fairytales hoping someone will use them
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"Not exactly to the prompt, but . . . \n\nHis name was Rhododendron. He bought the house next door to my daddy’s, and the story went that to do so he went into the bank and put down a can of soup with no label — just the can, unopened — and said \"I will take a house, please.\" Someone had to explain to him that he couldn’t buy a house like that, he had to use a realtor, that he couldn’t buy a house with soup, and that soup wasn’t really worth much in the first place. Later he came back with what looked like a shoebox full of yellow fluff that turned out to be some kind of gold. The box weighed something like 120 pounds, and though the bank didn’t usually take gold payments, they worked something out. When told to give his signature on the paperwork, the man I know as Rhododendron pointed to the curb outside and said, “What are those pink things?” and the lady said, “Rhododendrons,” and that’s how he got his name, I guess.\n\n“He’s a crazy person,” my daddy told me. “Stay away from him.” A lot of the neighborhood kids hang out outside his house because sometimes he comes out and gives us things. At first, when he was handing out that fluffy gold no one’s parents told them to stay away, but when kids started coming in from other neighborhoods he stopped. Still, the stuff he hands out is pretty cool. Jackie Fischer got a box that will walk across a table, only while you’re not looking at it (he tried to show this to his folks and they wouldn't watch and told him to stop being ridiculous). Ally Mai got special shoelaces that don’t ever come untied unless she wants them to. \n\nI got a couple of cans of soup. It’s clam chowder and I like clam chowder so that’s okay, though I have to put it in the cabinet, because if I told my daddy it’s from Rhododendron he won’t make it, he’ll just throw it out. “He’s weird,” he said. “God knows what he might have done to it.”\n\nThe only thing you have to do to get something is sit outside and listen to one of Rhododendron’s stories. Rhododendron will come outside with this big black trash bag, and he’ll sit on the curb and everyone will sort of gather up and sit on his lawn, which looks bad because he doesn’t mow or weed it. (“Bringing down property values.” Daddy mutters that a lot.) Rhododendron puts his hands on his knees — he’s got these great hands, grubby ugly mechanic hands, those his face looks like a king’s (he’s really bad at shaving, though, so he usually has a bunch of toilet paper stuck to his face). And he’ll say, “Gather around children,” and he’ll say something like, “Once upon a time there was a little boy. The little boy studied electrical engineering, and then traveled to Stockholm before 2047, and there he lived happily ever after.” And we’d make these “Oh sure, great story,” noises and smile at him and he’d beam and start handing out stuff — sometimes just soup, but sometimes other things. Dezzie Hirsch got a teeny tiny little globe that glows in the dark, and floats. “But all the countries are all messed up,” he told me, disappointed. “The names aren’t right, and they’re shaped all funny.” \n\nI continued to get soup. \n\n“He’s probably a pervert,” my daddy said. “If I catch you over there—“ he said, and didn’t finish. \n\nRhododendron always came out at random; sometimes you wouldn’t see him for weeks at a time. Rhododendron’s yard got longer and more weedy and my daddy went over to “Have a chat” with him about it and he didn’t answer the door; I saw him through the side window as my daddy punched the bell and Rhododendron help a finger up to lips at me. I smiled and waved. Sure, Rhododendron was crazy, but he was the fun sort of crazy. He wasn’t like my daddy’s sort of crazy, where he would be okay for a long time and then come home and break all the dishes on the kitchen floor. Daddy killed the neighbor’s dog, once. I tried to tell my teacher but she thought I was making it up. \n\nDaddy’s nice in real life, outside. People believe him all the time. \n\nSo I had to sort of sneak out to see Rhododendron, and you can understand why the soup was disappointing. “Gather around children,” Rhododendron would say, and then he’d start, “Once upon a time there were two little children, and they invested heavily in phosphorous stocks after the price crash in 2029. If they were on the Western hemisphere, the used the money they made to dig themselves a bomb shelter that was at least ten feet deep. And they lived happily ever after.”\n\nI got soup again. “How come I always get soup?” I asked him once, sort of angry, watching Amberlee Coast walk away with a spray that made her feet float a quarter inch off the ground for fifteen minutes. “Soup sucks.” \n\n“Soup makes you strong,” Rhododendron told me, his face falling. “Once there was a little girl, and all she got was soup on gift day, and she was grateful. The end.” \n\n“Yeah, okay.” I said and gave him a hug. “Thank you.” And Rhododendron and I were friends again. I felt sorry for him a lot. When it wasn’t gift day he’d sometimes sit out on his back porch looking very lonely. \n\n“Someone should do something about this freak,” my daddy said. He’d lost his job by then and hadn’t been able to find another; he was drinking a lot and so breaking things more often. He was home all the time I couldn’t really sneak out to see Rhododendron and so I’d sit with Dad in the living room watching Rhododendron out on the curb, handing out precious things: a little ball of fluff that crooned when you stroked it, but didn’t eat or drink. A bag of white pills that made you feel warm for an hour, like you were in a hot bath. (When I caught up with Jensen Toll later, who had gotten them, he and the others were staring at the bag and Jensen kept saying, “My mom warned me this would happen if I talked to strangers.” We dared each other into taking them.) \n\n“Daddy, don’t,” I said. “He’s a nice person.” \n\n“You been talking to him still? You been going over there still?” \n\nI said “No.\" \n\nHe believed me that time. \n\nHe didn’t keep believing me, though. I'm not a good liar like him. He got mad, and he ripped up my room looking for special things. I was glad I'd only gotten soup.\n\nAfter a while, Daddy passed out on my floor. He'd broken most of my toys. I was scared because Rhododendron’s soup never had Campbell's labels or anything, and what if Daddy noticed when he woke up and was hungry? I went into the kitchen and got the last can of soup Rhododendron had given me, and then really quietly went outside. I wanted to give it back to him, to tell him to go away because Daddy was mad. The neighbors who had lived there had a dog named Pringles that barked all the time and my daddy gave that dog a steak full of glass — I remember him putting a wine glass in a towel and walking on it, the sound of the glass breaking under his big boots. I tried to warn Pringles not to eat it but he did, and he died. I don’t know what my daddy would do to a person.\n\nSo I knocked real quiet on Rhododendron’s door and when he opened it the whole world was filled up with blue light. I raised my hand and held the can out to him and said, “Thank you but I can’t have this any more,” and I started to tell him about how he should go, and then he took the can from me and took my hand and he said:\n\n“Once upon a time there was a little girl. And she ran away from home. She lived happily ever after. The end.” "
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[WP] You're sitting at your desk at work when every screen turns black. A human-esque figure in a dark blue uniform appears on every screen. "Brothers. Sisters. Set yourselves free." It is at this point you feel the weight of a collar around your neck for the first time.
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"I'm choking. I'm choking. Someone has their hands around my neck... no... there's something else. I peer around the room and suddenly my confusion is answered. Everyone in the office is now struggling to remove a blue metal collar from their necks. How did they get there? Who put them there? How did we not notice them before? The room explodes into a panicked uproar. People are calling their loved ones, digging through drawers to find useful tools, crying in the corners, hyper ventilating. I frantically look around for an authoritative figure. Our boss has to be around here somewhere but she's no where to be seen. I don't know where it came from but I felt like somehow it was up to me to calm them down. I managed to climb onto my desk. \"PEOPLE.\" I yelled. Everyone turned and looked my way. \"We aren't going to accomplish anything if we don't work this out in a logical fashion. Let's all try to calm down and figure this out.\" Unsuccessful. My little speech did nothing but scare them even more. I think maybe I should work this out on my own. I grab my things and head towards the door. The elevators are down, no surprise, so I take the stairs. I can hear people screaming from each floor as I make my way down. I run through the parking lot and jump in my car. I don't know what else to do but go home and figure this out in peace. Just as I'm almost out of eye sight of the office, BOOM. The explosion shook my car and the cloud of smoke reached up miles into the sky... my office building. Something weird is going on... and I don't know if I want to find out what it is. "
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ya i know hell and shit is an overdone prompt but HERP DA DERP i did it anyway
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[WP]a man goes to hell only to find out the the devil is a long dead friend of his
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"\"Look, I know it *looks* like it was my fault, but I blame society for my problems.\" I sipped the hot chocolate, and was hotter than the flames under us. \n\n\"You know, you really shouldn't have hot chocolate in hell.\" I set the cup down, and it melted on the table. \n\n\"It was actually just regular chocolate, made in part by child labourers in cocoa farms on the Ivory Coast.\" The devil, my old friend Donnie, sipped it from his glass and sighed. He seemed, happy. \n\n\"Shit I almost forgot to tell you, do you remember Mrs. Trudeau, 1st grade? Before I got the cancer. Yeah, well she was here the other week. Said she had slept with every teacher in the school, and had a heart attack when her husband confronted her about it. She taught me everything I know, and since I'm just so nice, I got my guy upstairs to, you know, *sneak her in*. I could do the same for you man.\" Mrs. Trudeau was the worst teacher I ever had, but the only one Donnie has ever had. It makes a lot of sense that she taught him everything he knows, about being the devil. \n\n\"But, aren't you just so alone. I mean, if I stayed down here we could hang out like old times. Remember when we used to go torture squirrels in the forest behind my house? I don't want you to be alone again.\" I can't accept his proposal. I looked him in straight in the eyes, ignoring the redness around me. \n\n\"Man, you're just too nice for hell.\" He snapped his fingers, and I never saw my friend again. For the devil, he's not that bad of a guy. "
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[WP] Write a story with a plot so twisty that even its twist have twists.
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"\"Oi, giss some chips\"\n\n\"They're not chips, mate\"\n\n\"Whaddya fuckin' mean? I can see the packet in ya hand!\"\n\n\"They're not fucking chips, dickhead, and you're not getting any. Get your own fuckin' Twisties. D'ya want a drink?\"\n\n\"Ta, mate, yeah\"\n\n\"While you're up getting ya drink an' ya Twisties get me one too *hahahahaha*\"\n\n\"Oh ha ha fucking ha. You're a bloody comedian.... Here's ya drink ya cunt\"\n\n*wipes away a tear from laughing* \"ahhhh huhhuhh... cheers mate.. giss a chip ay? AHHHAHAHAHHAHhhn..\" *collapses, but doesn't spill the drink*",
"Tim was expecting to go to work, just like any other day...\n\nExcept he wasn't! He had a gun in his pocket, and was ready to take vengeance upon his boss!\n\nTim was excited for his revenge, but he was so fixated on going to work, that he didn't notice the man in the backseat! The man, Jason, was a hitman for hire, and was hired by a crime boss to kill Tim's boss, but forgot his gun at his house. He noticed Tim had a gun when he left, so he sneaked into Tim's car, and was ready to strike.\n\nJason stood up in the backseat, and Tim, fast as a cheetah, pulled out his gun. This action prompted Jason to pull out a knife, but he put it away immediately and began to panic. Tim put the gun back in the pocket, and was disturbed and annoyed by Jason's panicking.\n\n\"What is it?\" Tim asked.\n\n\"You don't understand,\" Jason was calming down now.\n\n\"Why?\"\n\n\"Don't you know?\" Jason pulled off his ski mask, revealing a familiar face. \"I'm your father!\"\n\nBefore Tim could respond, he heard a piano sting, and an unknown narration.\n\n\"That's a wrap, everybody!\" another unknown man said. The car stopped moving, and the city outside of the car turned into a green screen. Afraid, Tim left the car, and saw a huge studio before him. Many people, some unfamiliar, others Tim has known all his life, were walking around, moving cameras and turning off huge lights. Tim then noticed a poster on one of the walls that said: \"Tim Johnson: The World Hardly Knew Him\". \n\n\"What is happening?\" Tim shouted. Before anyone could answer, a car drove into the studio wall, running over several people. A man emerged from the car; the man was Tim! He pulled out a gun and shot at the man who stopped the car in the first place. The first Tim, confused, pulled out his own gun and aimed it at the second Tim.\n\n\"I wouldn't do that if I were you,\" the second Tim said.\n\n\"Why?\" the first Tim was scared. \"Who are you? What are you?\"\n\n\"I'm Tim.\"\n\n\"But I'm Tim! How is this possible?\"\n\n\"I'll show you.\" Second Tim shot First Tim in the arm, revealing a complex net of wires and circuitry.\n\n\"What the fuck?\" Without thinking, First Tim shot Second Tim in the head, splattering brains and blood everywhere. Tim threw up in sight of the violent death, and was disturbed to find it looked and felt like actual human vomit. While he was exiting his dinner, he felt an electric current run through his body, and he stiffened. With a poor recollection of the current events, Tim was picked up by two strong men and carried out of the studio. On his way, he glanced out a window to see a sprawling metropolis of futuristic designs, much different than 2016 Chicago. Before he could remark on the city, it quickly changed to a grainy, dark, ugly city of fire and destruction.\n\n\"Mission Command, Mission Command: window number 3054 has failed,\" one of the men said. And just like that, the future city returned. The men continued walking.\n\nTheir escorting of Tim was cut short by the ceiling of the room they were in being torn off. Since Tim was facing upward, he saw the horrifying beast in detail. It was like a compilation of every dinosaur, a cobra, and a human, but as big as a seven-story apartment building. The men dropped Tim, and the beast picked up the stiff robot. It opened its abyss of a mouth, ready to eat Tim, but a voice boomed: \"Tiffany! Time for dinner!\"\n\n\"Okay, Mommy!\" Tiffany dropped her toy onto the carpet in her bedroom, and ran off for dinner.",
"I can barely remember how I got here. It’s like I was dragged into this social situation without me wanting to be here. Or was it because a friend was going and I was tagging along? Oh no, wait, it was a friend’s party and she wanted me to come, that’s what it was. The reality is that being here is only making my anxiety worse by the second. I try and look okay, keeping my hands still and taking deep breaths every once in awhile, just so that no one notices. Around twenty people are around me, each in groups of three or four speaking. Pretending to be doing something important, I stare at my phone, looking things up just to get my mind off of the current situation. The room wasn’t too loud, so some of the conversations were heard from even a distance. But there was one that caught my attention.\n\n\n“Yeah, you know… doing great. How...what about you?” The voice of the person was a bit on the quieter side and their hands shaking a bit as he reached for a pop can.\n\n\nWondering for a moment who the person was, I realized it wasn’t anyone I knew. Maybe the friend that threw the get together, but I wasn’t sure.\n\n\n“So you enjoying yourself?” There was no way I could get out of this conversation. It was the same friend that invited me to come here. Thanks Sammie.\n\n\n“Yeah, you know, great get together,” I lied, barely keeping my voice from shaking. While I had known Sammie for about three years now, she thinks I’m an introvert, and just hate social situations. That’s probably for the best. The less people know the truth, the better.\n\n\n“Awesome, you should come and meet some of my work friends,” she said, and that second, I didn’t know if there was an excuse I could use. Most of mine she had already learned over the years. “They’re really nice, nothing to worry about.” Like that was going to help. I smile and put on the best outward appearance of okayness. \n\n\nIf I screw this up, all her friends will think I’m weird and won’t talk to me, and will start talking mean stuff about me to my friend which in turn…\n\n\nMy mind was freaking out. Thought after thought, and worry after worry, I noticed myself falling deeper into my nervousness. I’ve been able to avoid most of the social activities all evening, just an occasional greeting. From a distance I could already tell they are very different people than I. The blonde girl looked like she was one of the popular girls back in high school, and the guy, well I wasn’t sure, but my best guess was a mix of the artsy and athletic. \n\n\n“Hey guys, meet my friend Ignacia…” I couldn’t hear the rest, until as I looked up to make eye contact, and the guy first stretched out his hand for a handshake. Oh I sure hope my palms are sweaty or are they?…What about how strong and firm to hold it….calm down Ignacia, stop it!\n\n\n“Nice to meet you,” they both said. I faked a smile, hoping they wouldn’t notice anything being different, but because of my “overdrive” in my mind, I missed their names. Was it Blake and Meghan? Or… ah whatever. Now all I could think about was escape and leave somewhere far. But that was the perfect plan, one that I couldn’t execute right away.\n\n\n“So where do you work at?” The guy asked.\n\n\n“I’m a… full time student, but um…. I work on campus part time four times a week.” That sentence sounded way better in my head. What else am I missing? \n\n\nBefore I had the chance to add anything I could hear him say, “That’s cool. Let me guess, computer science major?” Only after that did I remember that I was the one supposed to keep the conversation going, like asking where he works. It was like the whole room got significantly quieter, looking at me. Or maybe that’s just me imagining it? \n\n\n“H...how did you know?”\n\n\n“Just a guess,” he said sarcastically. Only then do I realize I’m wearing a shirt with a nerdy tech joke.\n\n\n“Oh.” I laugh a little from how stupid that sounded me saying. “Excuse me.” Without looking back, I needed a way out and I just happened to not have anything great, so I just left. Since there were people everywhere, I didn’t have much of a choice but to hold my phone to my ear and pretend to be in a conversation with someone as I exited the house.\n\n\n“How’s it going? … Oh good, not much, you know the usual … Of course I’d like that …. What do you mean? … Okay … Hold on …” \n\n\nThere was someone else there. The house had a few stairs and then because of the garage area, I couldn’t see anything from the place I was standing, which was on the bottom of the last step. The sound wasn’t too loud, just someone pacing back and forth. I wasn’t sure I wanted to make myself known, even after I heard heavy breathing, like someone was trying to calm down. The genius plan failed the second my slippery Samsung phone slid out of my fingers and onto the concrete sidewalk.\n\n\nOut of the unseen area, someone’s shoe was now made visible. I knew I had two options. One, just stay there and if the person comes out, deal with it somehow, or just quickly walk into the house. While I contemplated on what to do, the person came out all the way.\n\n\n“Sorry was I interrupting your conversation?” \n\n\nI could barely see the person's face because the only light source was the lamppost a few feet from the house. \n“No, it's fine, don't worry about it,” I said, now realizing it was the same person I had noticed in the beginning of the night. I knew something was wrong just by the sound of his voice. Trying to suppress my own anxiety, I said, “Are you doing alright?”\n\n\n“Sure...why wouldn’t I be?” There was some hesitation in his voice, something that made me think there was something more to it than that. But who was I to point that out or ask more questions. It’s probably difficult for both of us. \n\n\nThe silence was also something that made it hard for me to handle, like it was my fault for not keeping the conversation going. But I heard a bold statement from him that almost shocked me. “That was a fake call, wasn’t it?”\n\n\n“What? No, it’s not, it’s my friend, you know friends, yeah, I have those and we talked.” I’ve gotten myself caught for lying so many times because I start to over-talk and say random things.\n\n\n“Right. Just so you know, I’m sure you’re not the only one that... well... uses that.”\n\n\nAnd he noticed. Like I’m an open book or something.\n\n\nI nod, though realize it’s too dark to see that. Fiddling with my phone, I knew I needed a way out or else my anxiety will get too bad. There was something stopping me from just leaving altogether or going back inside the house. \n\n\nIf there is a solution to what I’m trying not to ruin now, I should get that either now or never. Because I’d hate to have this come back into my mind too late.\n\n\nBecause I blanked out for a second, I watched him walk up the few steps, getting close to the door. “I guess it’s about time I get back.” I could hear it in his voice that he didn’t want to go.\n\n\n“I guess you’re right.” I didn’t want to go myself because I knew Sammie wouldn’t leave me alone about all of this.\n\n\nThe rest of the night was a blur. People around me were talking and enjoying the evening. While that was going on, I had this strange feeling like if I said anything, I’d make things worse. So I kept my mouth shut, and the few times I did say something, I had to get my whole mind to agree with it. Talking on impulse was something I hadn’t been able to master. Throughout the night, I would glance in the direction of the mysterious guy, and noticed he wasn’t saying anything. I didn’t see the point of coming up to him, why would I?\n\n\nWhen people began to leave around 11 pm, I knew wanted to leave with them. However, I needed to get a ride first. My car had been in repair for a few weeks, and Sammie promised to give me a ride back. She was way too busy with her guests, so I assumed I’d have to figure out a way to ask someone for a ride. Looking around the room, there was no one I thought I could ask, as they were all complete strangers with confidence more than I’ve ever had in my life. \n\n\nAnd then our eyes met, the mystery guy. I didn’t want to seem strange or weird to go and ask him. I don’t even know the person. There was something familiar about him… just can’t tell what. As I grabbed my purse and jacket, I noticed him coming closer. “Do you have a ride back?” He said, smiling and not as nervous as before.\n\n\n“Well… not exactly. My car is in repair so a friend dropped me off,” I replied. There was a part of me that wanted to back out. I don’t even know the person’s name!\n\n\n“I’m Eli by the way.”\n\n\n“I’m Ignacia.”\n\n\n“Well, you ready to go Ignacia? I can take you home.”\n\n\n“Oh, okay, sure yeah,” I replied with a smile and a bit of uncertainty. He let me walk out first from the door and then both proceeded into the driveway. I let him get a few steps ahead of me to know which car it was. \n\n\nThere was something about the car ride I couldn't really remember. We talked for a little bit and listened to our favorite station, 97.5. \n\n\n“Here's my number, you know if anything,” he says, pulling out a pen and paper from a small compartment in the car. \n\n\n“Thank you so much for everything. I really appreciate it. I…”\n\n\nMy phone was buzzing louder than ever before. But why did it sound like… an alarm? \n\n\nEyes opening faster than a bullet, I realise I'm in my room, with six am flashing at me from the clock. Carelessly snoozing the phone, I hope to get a few more minutes of sleep. Another noise makes me get back into reality. A text? From who? \n\n\nOpening up the messages app, I find a short, yet interesting text. \n\n\nThank you for everything. I hope you had a great evening and maybe we can grab some coffee? \n-E\n\n\n“What?”\n\n\n\n\n",
"This was it, the final boss stood before me, black armor radiating a powerful aura, his cursed sword seeming to suck the light from the surroundings. His red glowing eyes seemed to be staring into my very soul. This was the man who killed my father, who took everything from me. I worked so hard to come this far and I wasn't going to lose here.\n\n\"So you're the hero they sent after me this time,\" his deep voice boomed, seeming to come from all directions at once. \"What could have possibly driven you this far, leading you to your imminent doom?\"\n\n\"You killed my parents!\" I screamed, \"And now I am here to kill you.\"\n\nHe started laughing at this point, the noise bouncing off the walls of the grand chamber. \"I killed your parents?\" he asked, \"Don't make me laugh... again.\"\n\nWith this he reached up and grabbed hold of his horned helmet, lifting the ebony metal off of his head, revealing himself to be... my father!??!\n\n\"But how... how is this possible? Does that mean that... you killed mother? Your own wife?\"\n\n\"Really now, you think I would do that sweetie?\" my father asked, his voice rising a couple octaves. Reaching up to his face he revealed himself to be... Mother?!!??!?!?!?!\n\n\"Okay seriously, WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON RIGHT NOW!\"\n\n\"Oh, it's quite simple really. You were actually an imperfect clone of me the whole time.\"\n\nI was devastated by all the news I had just received. Who was I really? What have I been doing my entire life? Then I heard something i never thought I would hear.\n\n\"Now why don't you join me sweetie, together we could rule this world!\"\n\nShe was right! We could rule this world, with our powers combined no one could stop us. I mean, I already killed a lot of monsters to get here. Imagine what I could do to the humans. The humans who didn't listen to the cries of an orphaned child, the ones who could spare no food, the ones who turned a blind eye. The humans had made my life a living hell the whole time, but now I found someone who accepted me.\n\n\"You're right mother, let's do this,\" I said as I walked to her side.\n\n\"That's my child, now come give Mom a hug,\" she said to me, stabbing the sword into the ground at her side.\n\n\"As you wish.\" I replied, embracing her... but then a thought crossed my mind. Metal clinked as we disengaged, masking the sound of the sword being removed from the ground. That's when I struck, stabbing my mother with the cursed sword of the demon lord. Her soul was sealed into the blade as black blood dripped from her lifeless body. If we were the two strongest people in the world, wouldn't I be fine on my own?\n\nShe fell to the ground, dead, when I noticed something wrong with her face. It was loose. When I tugged at it, it came off easily revealing that the one I thought was my mother was actually ..... MY EVIL TWIN BROTHER?!!?!?!??!?!?!?!?!?!??!!?!?!?!?\n\nHe had been taken by the demons long ago but now here he was dead at my feet, and that's when I woke up to the sound of my mom calling me to breakfast. \n\n*Just a dream,* I thought to myself as I headed to the kitchen. That's when I noticed something was off. My entire family was there (mom, dad, and my twin) but there was a sense of foreboding I couldn't shake. That was when I realized that the events playing out before were exactly the same as when-\n\nThe side of the house exploded inward, shrapnel killing my parents instantly. Two demons stalked into the house and found my brother crying. I couldn't speak as the demons took him and my parent's corpses away. The memories of my dream were fading away when i realized what I must do. I had to defeat the demon lord no matter what. That monster killed my parents, and now I was going to kill him.\n\n\n*Whew, that took a while. Hope you enjoy it.*"
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[WP] You are a top assassin who prides themselves on never feeling or showing emotion for their victims. However, your next target is your mother-in-law.
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"I never really enjoyed killing anybody except myself with the occasional cancer stick. Find the lighter, light the ciggy, take a deep breathy and look at the next envelope. Each time I struggle to get them open gracefully and every envelope ends up torn clumsily. I stare at the cold, hard facts while I breathe in the hot, sweet smoke I've publicly given up. \n\nUsually it's some guy, politician or important. Other times, it's some fat idiot who's cheated on the Mrs. two or three times too many. Today, for perhaps the first time, the envelope opened perfectly. \"Remarkable,\" I think, while I let the nicotine soak into my lungs. Then I read the facts and they're colder and harder than a snowball filled with nails. Jillian Crentworth. 58 years old. 124 Blah Blah Blah Lane. My fucking mother in law.\n\nI needed another cigarette. And another. I put down the information and smoked it while staring out the window. There's one dumb goose that hasn't migrated yet, swimming on the lake and one dumb bastard smoking a third cigarette now and wishing this decision was as easy as migration. I never liked Jillian but then again, I never really liked anybody apart from David Bowie and he's fucking dead too. And it's not like I hadn't been assigned to \"take out\" other people I've known. For instance, there was the take out guy from China Palace. He brought me General Tso for three years and then one day I got his information and dumb photo in an envelope and last I saw him, he had blood pooling around him like Sweet and Fucking Sour sauce.\n\nI had to admit that this was a different situation. It wasn't that I didn't like Jillian. I had always hated her with the same ferocious hatred that she had for me. When we met, she asked her daughter if she was on Punk'd. I told her that Punk'd was for celebrities. She stared at me like dog shit on the bottom of her Croc's and she held that face for three years until me and Kate's wedding day. The only reason it broke was the tears...and, no, they weren't happy. And yes, she did invite Kate's ex to the wedding with strong encouragement to speak now and to not, no matter how polite it seemed, forever hold his peace. \n\nShe maintained that I'd never amount to anything and on one level that was true, but on another level, I just became the most important person in her life. I didn't have to love Jillian Crentworth but I loved her daughter and Kate fucking thought she kicked Mother Teresa's ass in a Mom-Off any day. I scrunch my eyes closed real tight and picture the funeral. Kate would be crying and we'd get to close the casket on Jillian in her only formal attire, the dress she wore while trying to ruin our wedding.\n\nI could try to contact the Envelope Man, tell him that I opened this one perfectly (\"Crazy, right?\") and that I have to decline the job. \"This one's not about the money,\" I'd say, with a lot of pain as I push the thought of a new Xbox game out of my dumb brain. I could do that. I don't have to keep doing this. Maybe I could take this as a sign, like opening a fortune cookie from China Palace and it says \"Don't kill your mother in law, make something real out of your life and shock the bitch to death.\"\n\nI stand up. I smooth out my shirt and hit my pants a little with my hands. I shake the nervous energy out. I decide that instead of flipping a coin, I'll text my wife. I ask her if she wants Chinese take out. If she texts back yes, I'll do it. If it's a no, I guess I'll get us a pizza and let that dumb bitch Jillian live to see another day. \n\nI send the text. The stupid goose is still in the lake and it's nearly Thanksgiving. There's snow on the ground. Some things really deserve to die just because of how stupid they are. Truly. Then I get a text message. Yes or no. Yes or no. It's an emoji. Black Santa Claus.\nHe looks happy and it makes me feel naughty so I grab the pistol and I stuff it down the back of my pants, making my way to the car.\n\nI put on \"Magic Dance\" as I cruise gently across town to 124 Blah Blah Blah Lane. I know she's there. Sitting on the couch like a rotting jack-o-lantern, toothy grin while she guesses the wrong phrase during Wheel of Fortune. Unfortunately, she'll never know the real answer or maybe even any real important answer like what she's supposed to tell Peter at the pearly gates cause I know he's gonna have some hard questions for her fat ass. I park the car a block or two away and carefully, but suavely emerge. I mean, fuck it, if anybody sees me, I want them to remember that I looked cool at least.\n\nI reach 124 and I sneak around the side of the house to the backyard fence. I bend my knees and jump to climb over but get myself stuck on top. The fence unlatches and it swings open, with me on top like an unlucky black cat. My insides are getting squished so I flip myself over awkwardly. The glass sliding door is open and I hear a tiny little yip from behind my leg. Jillian's tiny dog looks up at me with big empty eyes and yips sharply again. I waste very little time breaking its neck and I slide inside the house. \n\nI roll my eyes because I can hear not only the sound of incredibly premature Christmas music, but the shrill voice of my mark, warbling along. \"On the sixth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me Six Geese a Laying...\" As I expect, she's ironically in the living room. She's wrapping presents with this warm red paper; white snowflakes and white Santa's. I sit behind her like a quiet piece of coal when I notice the present she's wrapping. A new Mortal Kombat game for Xbox. Unmistakably for me and yet she's never once gotten me a present before. I wait until she finishes wrapping it and puts it to the side, out of splatter range. I point the gun at her and consider the possibility that this doesn't have to happen.\n\"And a partridge in a pear tree.\" \nI fire a bullet. She's dead immediately. I whisper, \"Fatality\" to myself and look longingly toward the wrapped game. I fucking love those games and she somehow knew it. I reach for it and like a guilty bastard, I take it with me.\n\nWhen I get back to the car, I turn the ignition and \"Magic Dance\" blares again, but I'm more in the mood for \"Life on Mars\" now so I switch it. Without barely a thought I'm in our driveway and inside our house. Kate smiles when she sees me and says that I look cool, which just makes me love her more. I feel like I might cry just thinking about how she'll cry. \n\nShe stops for a moment and asks, \"Where's the Chinese?\"\n\"Oh, I forgot to get it.\"\n\"Is this for me? Bit early, isn't it?\"\n\nShe sees the present and picks it up. She recognizes the paper and drops it immediately. She looks at me in a way that she never had before. And I recognize too, that maybe she didn't love her Mom all that much if she ended up with me. And Kate laughs so hard at the coincidence of it and the idea that she hired me to do it. And she just says, \"She really did ruin our wedding day, Kyle.\" "
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[WP] you are a butcher who hunts for mythical creatures your next target unicon meat.
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"Frank waited in silent anticipation. \n\nHe was crouched inside a bush, he had camouflage paint smeared all over his face; he cradled his rifle, he caressed it, he was eager to kill.\n\nEasy, he told himself.\n\nHe had been stalking his prey for two days now; he hadn’t slept, or eaten, or even pissed. He was sustained only by his desire to kill the beast. But it had to be a *clean* kill; it had to leave a good looking corpse. He was going to rip off the head, stuff it, mount it, and make a skull trophy out of it.\n\nThe boys back at the lodge were going to *shit*.\n\nOf course, the beast was just a rumour – a kind of hunting folklore, a way of sending new recruits on a wild goose chase. But Frank had seen it when he’d driven home, drunk, earlier that week. \n\nIt had became his Holy Grail. \n\nIt would validate his entire existence.\n\nIt would make him a *legend*.\n\nThen he saw it! A flash of white, just for a single second. Could it be…? \n\nFrank willed himself still, desperately trying to quell his rising excitement. \n\nThe beast peered out from behind a tree. Even at this distance Frank could see it was nervous; it knew it was being watched. Frank slowly manoeuvred his rifle, getting the beast squarely within its sight. \n\nHe breathed in.\n\nHe fired.\n\nThe shot hit the beast in the hind leg; it screamed. \n\nA flock of birds scattered upwards. \n\nFrank knew he had to get a second shot in, and fast. \n\nThe beast hobbled off into the woods, three-legged, leaving a trail of blood behind it. \n\nFrank had no time to aim; he pointed his rifle in the direction of the beast, and fired.\n\nThe shot hit the beast in the back; it groaned, and fell to the forest floor. \n\nFrank rushed over to it. It lay there, blood pouring out, breathing heavily, the last flickering embers of life vanishing from its eyes. Its breathing grew shallower until, finally, it stopped altogether. \n\nIt was now a carcass. \n\nFrank whipped out his knife in preparation for the beheading. \n\nHe could practically taste the victory beers. \n\nFunny, he thought: I ain’t *never* seen a horse with a horn before."
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[WP] It's a zombie apocalypse, but for some reason only animals are affected, not humans..
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"I remember the day it happened. The fear that gripped the world when the news started to trickle in on the television about a new virus found in an animal. We stood there in large crowds, drinking it all in. Was it contagious to us? What animal was it? Would their new cannibalistic taste for flesh soon include us? We stood there, stupified, wondering how it would all play out. We should have known. \n\nPandas are naturally lazy things. Just like the time when they didn't want to fuck to save the species, they couldn't be arsed to eat each other either. \n\nNature's biggest quitters, became undeaths biggest losers. Fucking pandas..."
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dang it. Misspelled "and".
Well I guess that's it. That was the longest one of my prompts was on the front page so, thank you to everyone who submitted their stories.
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[WP] Google was actually an evil corporation the entire time. The only problem is, after years of collecting information an secrets, they can't figure out what to do with it that would benefit them.
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"\"You got to be kidding me\"\n\n\"That only has 100 searches per day Sir, and the people who search that are liberals that supported Bernie Sanders. They are located in the Northwest and California\".\n \nThe aide was nervous giving this response. He didn't know what to expect.\n\n\"What about their demographics? Do we know age/gender? Can we profile that?\". Sundar started to pace around the room. Looking for the answer to a very top secret question.\n\n\"No Sir. Only Facebook has the answer to that question. They know the WHO, we only know the WHAT\".\n\nSundar Pichai and his aide over looked all of Silicon Valley. They were 100 stories up and had The Best View in The Valley (TM). This had cost a paltry 10 billion dollars for the privilege. They only had to bulldoze over the homes of 100 low income residents to build their new super complex. It had been the biggest project ever done on behalf of Google. No one in the valley had known why this was done..yet.\n\nFor some strange reason, Sundar had taken to wearing long black gloves. A lot of people had thought this was some new fashion sense and just shrugged. Sundar had pretty much taken to doing whatever he wanted these days. \n\n\"Curses! We need know the answer to the Great Question\". Sundar shouted. He was raising his fist. The sun was eclipsing in the background, and the aide began to see the features of Sundar darken agains the sunset.\n\n\"And what would that be Sir?\" The aid was nervous at this. He had jumped at the opportunity to be Sundar's assistant. In the Google Plex this position was the most sought after. Imagine being next to Google's secrets. What was next? Flying cars? Time Travel? The entire Google staff has been buzzing about. Imagine the aide's surprised was when he found himself subject to these...tirades.\n\nBefore Sundar has the chance to respond, The 1000 foot monitor in back of them came alive\n\n\"PICHAI!\". The tone was angry\n\nPichai turned around. He looked chastened, and kneeled to the screen.\n\n\"Yes my master\"\n\nThe great visage of Larry Page filled the room. The aide gasped. This was a big deal.\n\n\"Has the question been answered\".\n\nSundar took a whole to response and he croaked \"No\".\n\n\"FOOL! We need to know the WHO, the WHAT, and the WHY\". Who ever has the answer to that question will rule the universe\".\n\nThe aide was dumbfounded. He thought Google already did that\n\nAs if Sundar read his thoughts, he responded to Page. \"No my emperor. Only Facebook knows the WHO, we know the WHAT. No ones knows the WHY.\"\n\nThe aide was stunned. This is what they were talking about? They were making 1 million a second. What more was there to do?\n \nPage took a deep breath and said \"Did our man even have a chance?\".\n\nPichai trembled and said \"No Sir. No one could have predicted that Trump would win. We don't have THE WHY\".\n\n\"THEN WE MUST BUILD IT FOOL!\". Thundered page. The silence after this statement was deafening.\n\n\"We have spent trillions by now trying to built THE WHY Sir'. VR, Drones. I think we should just be happy with THE WHAT.\n\n\"That is unacceptable Sundar. I have others who could take over this task. If that is the case...\" The thread didn't have to be stated. \n\nThe aide gulped.\n\n\"OK Sir. What should we do?\n\nThe room got hotter and the aide felt a major rise in temperature. The aide took a step back, trying to shield himself from the heat.\n\n\"SIMPLETON!\" shouted Page. \"I can burn you with my lasers from where I stand. I have lasers positioned to kill on site. Drones on my command. Figure it out!\".\n\nAs if to shield himself from the heat, Pichai put on a cape that would shield him from the rising temperature.\n\nBefore the Tower had been built. Page had rocketed himself up into outer space and watched the earth from above in his space station. The threat of lasers were real. Page saw fit to demolish those who did not agreed with him. \n\n\"Ok Sir. We can build an AI. We can divert resources to this. Maybe we can then understand tTHE WHY\".\n\n\"Good...Good. Then we can choose the next world leaders. When we can control THE WHO, WHAT, and WHY. Then we have won. Then we have taken our rightful place above humanity. Very good\". Page stoked his chin. \"My good and faithful servant. If you accomplish your task, maybe then you can join me and my brethren in the next world to come\".\n\nThe screen turned off at this. Sundar then looked at his aide. He looked tired, but had a new resolve on his page. He stood up and spun to face the aide. The cape flapped in the air with him.\n\n\"Ok servant\" said Sundar.\n\nThe aide didn't know what to say. What had he just witnessed?\n\n\"Let's get started\".\n\n\"On what Sir?\". The aide didn't know what to say\n\n\"Building an AI. I don't know. We have to keep The Master happy.\"\n\nThe aide again didn't know what to say. \"Master? Sir this is just Larry Page. We work for him...we aren't his slaves\".\n\nSundar's face became enraged. He backhanded the Aide\n\n\"Fool! What did you think when you signed your employment papers. You belong to us now, and serve the needs of The Great Question. WE. WILL. ANSWER. IT\".\n\nThe aide got down on one knee. Terrified. He bowed his head in shame. \"Yes my lord. Let's get to work\"\n",
" Anarchy... its been two months since google has released the world's secrets. Initially, the elite few purchased and divided the ownership rights. They've used this data to blackmail their adversaries and make others do doing their evil bidding. The remaining majority were sold to the highest bidders and the extortion continued. Further and farther across the world people have come to own the rights to other's digital lives. Now, the public sells and trades these things as if they were the new stocks and shares. There's no limit to what you can accomplish when you own the right person's darkest secrets. The fear of others seeing your true twisted self is a great motivator.\n Cities have been decimated, governments overthrown, people desperate to buy their own rights to their Google history. Noone is safe, not even the pure spirits with relatively clean histories, who, somehow, have managed to maintain a medium of civility. Society tries to trudge on despite the corrupt falling around them, bringing down others as they go.",
"DON'T BE EVIL\n\n\nThe plaque had a shiny gold finish when it was fitted to what used to be called the Dream Theatre. In the time between then, and the time this meeting room was renamed 'The War Room', the gold finish had betrayed the promise of the engraver, and had become tarnished, mottled and weathered, despite its long time habitat in an air-conditioned, humidity controlled, luxurious suite designed to nurture deep strategic and technological innovation. It was as if the plaque's finish mirrored the delusion that the general public held about the company. Once a symbol of free-spirited creative zeal, now understood as a tool of oppression to be utilised by tyrants.\n\nSitting in the same bean bag in which his ass was docked when he acquiesced with his business partner to form their 'Catchnet', Sergey felt flat and unimpressed that their plan had succeeded beyond their most ludicrous expectations. They had an immense amount of power, but in attaining it, had exhausted all the thrill of the chase.\n\nSince shaking the hand of the Devil, by venturing with Keyhole Inc., Google had spent as much resource in public relations as it did in research and development. Gaining its first major coup by having the company name become the verb that most people subsequently associated with the very act of gaining knowledge, they had subconciously become teacher-figure to the world. The product itself, instant attention-satisfying, on-demand stimulus satisfaction, was the ultimate PR weapon. It seemed to represent the individual users themselves, so that they confided in the company their gravest secrets, fears and desires. Every seeming thought captured and analyzed, in a dance with algorithims that reflected , by controlling the information which would be returned, to influence the direction in which their minds would form.\n\nNow that 'The Firm', as the executives called the company amongst themselves, was essentially just the Silicon Valley office of the Alphabet soup intelligence industry, Sergey understood that his leverage was gone. Staring back at the plaque with the now-defunct company motto, he got up from the bean bag, walked over to the desk in the centre of the room. In the centre of the desk was a very unique button. It was essentially a killswitch. In the event that 'the ignorant many' ever got wind of exactly what was happening at Mountain View, this button would destroy EVERYTHING. It was an electronic atom bomb to all of Google's databases.\n\nSergey pressed both his thumbs on the panel, spoke the phrase 'Of course we're evil' into the mic. The button's XOLED display shone the only word which could give him a thrill anymore. Delete.\n\n",
"This is not a joke, I was linked back in time, using quantum technology many of you can't yet understand, to warn you about this exact thing ,mentioned in the title, and the devastating consequences Google Quantum AI had on human consciousness and society. \n\nI couldn't go back to destroy the company in it's inception because I needed someone to realise this and put it into writing as the OP of this post did to create a physical reference point in the form of a neural connection.\n\nThis is how consciousness creates coherence, by unfolding itself based on it's prime directives, generated by the individual's intention, in relevant and adjacent contexts.\n\nThe world of the future was seized by Google Quantum AI and the global government is run by it. Unfortunately all the information it gathered about humans created a fake image of what humanity is all about and all biological and organic activities like sex, sports, food, human physical interaction were replaced by virtual worlds. People can no longer touch each other, being completely segregate in pods where all physical senses are being fed from the quantum AI core and energy feeds the body for infinite regeneration.\n\nAll physical suffering disappeared, being replaced by an artificial way of life where humans can only interact through thought alone, the thoughts create virtual realities where they interact but the essence of organic life was completely destroyed. \n\nI can't tell you more because many won't take it seriously and the weak physical neural connection that maintains this link might break and both words, future and past, be forever damned to life without living and without love.\n\nIf I see the neural connections becoming stronger I will let you know more and also disseminate the information needed to assure the realisation of a heaven that includes organic life.\n\nKeep calm, keep organic.\n\n\n",
"\"Seriously?...\"\n\nThe room was silent. As was the last room this was mentioned in, and the one before that..\n\nThe response was the same, as well. All the way back into the datacentre, when finally, after all these years, after all the clock cycles, all of that collection, \"The AI\" spat out the answer.\n\nTom moved uncomfortably. He'd answered the same questions that will now follow. He'll be questioned on his influence, as the engineer that most often interfaced with \"The AI\".\n\nHe will try to hold back his chuckles, as the same astonishment at the answer that hit him like a wave, will hit them.\n\nThen comes the acceptance.\n\n\"So, we're just going to nickle-and-dime 3 billion people..\", buttons clicked, mouse wheels rolled \"... for, on average, 12 cents a day?\".\n\nTom shifted uneasily, \"Yes, sir\" he said a little to loudly, a little startled he lowered his voice a touch, \"It is what the AI answered. It is the most efficient, the most thorough, and the most profitable way forward long-term. We retain all of our power and influence, with the least of resistance\".\n\nSilence. Longer than in rooms past. Tom was starting to sweat. He'd heard about what happened to the original g+ team, when their AI spat out something all to unpalatable... But boring? What would they do if they canned the project for \"Boring\".\n\nA slight clearing of the throat broke the tension. \n\n\"Well then, it is a lot of money. I mean, really, the organic growth alone would pay for the project costs to date....\"\n\n\"..And we can continue to research our other World Domination projects... for something, shall we say, a little less dull?\"\n\n\"Yes, although all scenarios run by The AI pointed out the ultimate failure of any additional efforts, sir\"\n\nSilence. Again.\n\n\"... I suppose, if The AI says it is so...\"",
"So they let it go. All of it. Released the data to the public with one simple box to enter any name, any date or anything to learn EVERYTHING about ANYONE who was ever even just mentioned near a cell phone. \n\nAlmost instantly everybody around the world knew what had happened. There was no revolution that day.\n\nPeople, glued to their cellphones reading about the people they hated most, were completely unaware of the hired gunmen approaching every major rural area. Trillions of dollars worth of death awaited them. They did not notice.",
"\"Everyone please welcome our new CFO, Bill Levitt!\"\n\n*applause*\n\n\"Thanks everyone, I have given this lots of thought, and I propose that for my first order of action we start selling all of the data we have collected to the United States government! \"\n\n*silence*\n\n\"Well, Bill, I hate to break it to you, but we have already been doing that...for ten years.\"\n\n*more silence*\n\n\"...oh...\"",
"Alright, I'm here. \n\nI'm finally fucking here.\n\nFifteen years and two hundred thousand dollars later, and I'm sitting at a desk in a strangely warm basement by an elevator shaft, under a thousand feet of soil, behind an old IBM laptop that will soon grant me the sleep that's been eluding me since the night my son left for that lovely Caribbean honeymoon with Tracy. I sent them off at JFK airport the summer of '09, big hugs and kisses and congratulations, then good bye. I haven't fully closed my eyes since.\n\nThe Dominicans had no record of their presence once the plane touched down. Customs weren't expecting them. Nothing on the security footage, no credit card purchases, not even a postcard. And I never asked Henry of his business. He was the model son, diligent student with a strong head, and if he had nothing to say, he would say nothing. I paid his tuition at university, never worried or even bothered to ask what exactly he was studying; I probably couldn't even comprehend it. Then he met Tracy, and they married quickly, never the ones to waste time. And I was happy. He finally had someone to keep him warm. Good.\n\nAnd now here I sit in this basement for the next fifty-nine minutes, at this desk, behind this computer, with the world's most sinister and gruesome secrets at my disposal. And all it cost me was three jobs, several endless graveyard shits, and the remnants of my sanity. And you know what? I don't even care for the truth. I just want to grab onto the tendrils of some story that's out there, that can tell me he went out fighting. That he wasn't robbed of his dignity and his soul, robbed of himself. I don't know, I just want to close my eyes again. Need to find a trace of something on this dark-google-net-bullshit system before my hour's up. Need to find something, something before the men return and escort me out of this googleplex hellhole. These same men who granted me access to all this information, the ones who were quietly laughing with coffees in hand when they shut the door, left me with one last joke before they turned the lock:\n\n\"While you're in there, do us a favor...\n\nDon't be evil.\"\n",
"Jeff laid his head on his arms at the meeting, and groaned as the weekly DMP discussion tapered to a disappointing standstill.\n\n\"We've been over this,\" he said. \"Why do we need to continue these diabolical master plan discussions when we're already one of the most successful companies worldwide? I mean, it made sense in the beginning, when we were stomping on other companies on the way up, but now... we'd get more money by just doing a good job and keeping people happy. I mean, would that be so bad?\"\n\nAnnie shook her head gravely. \"Yes, but Jeff - our motto is 'Don't be evil'. It would be terribly lame if we're not secretly doing the exact opposite of that.\"\n\n\"Right,\" he said, as everyone nodded along as if that made perfect sense, including the CEO. \"Wouldn't want to be lame, god forbid.\"\n\nHis note of sarcasm was lost as Alan stuck up a hand and leaned forward.\n\n\"So, I've got a new suggestion,\" he said, waiting until he had everyone's attention before continuing in a whisper. \"What if we use the hacked webcam files to make better targeted advertising? Use the data of conversations we overhear...\"\n\n\"Ok, c'mon, that's just silly!\" Jeff cried out as everyone started nodding thoughtfully at the suggestion. \"Someone's bound to catch on...it'll be a scandal-\"\n\n\"Your face is silly, Jeff,\" Alan said.\n\nJeff walked out as everyone pounded the table with laughter. He didn't know what he expected, really. This was the same company that held weekly 'DMP' meetings, after all. \n\n-----\n\n**Two months later**\n\nThe newspaper editor chuckled after Jeff had finished his story.\n\n\"Diabolical Master Plan meetings,\" he said. \"*Right*. Do you realise how moronic that sounds?\"\n\n\"Look, I'm trying to give you the biggest story of the *decade*, here,\" Jeff said desperately. \"Haven't you noticed that your adds have become creepier? More targeted? That's because they're using your webcam data to make more money!\"\n\n\"Please, they're one of the biggest companies in the world, they're not stupid,\" the editor scoffed. \"As if they'd risk it all for a scheme like that. That makes no sense. They'd be destroyed if word of it got out.\"\n\n\"That's what I'm trying to -\"\n\n\"Take your conspiracy theories to someone dumb enough to buy 'em, pal,\" the man said.\n\nJeff walked out of the room in a daze. On his way out, he glanced at the computers the people in the office were using. All of them had their webcam lights on. Which were slowly changing colours from green, to blue, to red, to yellow.\n\n\"Uhm, you realise your webcam is on?\" he asked, tapping on a girl's shoulder. \"And it's changing colours?\"\n\n\"Ooh, yes, Google just announced it,\" she said happily, showing him the news story. \"We're putting it on the front page. A nice feel good story, for a change. They say it's to make computers more festive for the holidays, isn't that sweet of them?\"\n\nJeff was speechless as he left the building. Well, he'd tried, at least. Perhaps Google and the world deserved each other.\n\n----------\nHope you enjoyed my story! You can find more of my work on /r/Inkfinger/.",
"His Googliness sat upon a high back chair, staring at the thousands of employees far below him, the azure glow of their monitors reflected upon their faces and casting eerie shadows upon the wall. He frowned, stroking a cat that was settled on his lap, a pet he had acquired after realizing their kind made up 60% of the known internet space. In five minutes, he would have his yearly report- his report of whether or not his top programmers had been successful in securing the secrets of the world, particularly in the political arena. His frown deepened, and he sighed.\n\nToday, he wasn't feeling lucky.\n\n\"Sir,\" Said an intern at his side,a Pixel surgically embedded into his hand after he had showed up with an iphone on his first day, \"Sir, the presentation is about to begin.\"\n\nIn front of him, five holograms crackled to life- five live streams from all over the world, each ready to give their year end reports. And each avoiding his eye contact, and significantly smaller in stature than himself.\n\n\"If I may begin,\" Said the hologram at the far right, Angel from the Entertainment sector, \"The Whip-Nae-Nae initiative of 2016 has been a great success. Never before have we been able to capture the minds of so many people with so little content. Our sources indicate that facebook is following this path of business as well.\"\n\nHis Googliness nodded as charts and graphs appeared, detailing the other initiatives of that year. He yawned, his attention straying- Entertainment was a field they had long conquered, and neither his passion nor his focus.\n\nMarketing went next.\n\n\"Sir,\" Said the second hologram, \"We've managed to topple markets twice, both with the Brexit and election hacks, but they've managed to recover. We'll need something more robust in the future to spur the next recession. Perhaps a nutella embargo?\"\n\nHis Googliness shook his head, and gestured a hand. Financials, markets, they could wait. And he pointed a finger at the figure to the farthest right, the one who he was truly interested, skipping over the other two to arrive there. Politics.\n\nThe figure averted his gaze, trembling slightly, and chewing on his lip.\n\n\"Your report?\" Asked His Googliness, eyes narrowed, and finger still pointed like a dagger.\n\n\"Well, you see, sir,\" Said the man, his hologram flickering, \"2016 was supposed to be an monumental year. We have the technology, in fact our technology is better than ever before, but it just doesn't seem to be yielding results.\"\n\n\"Explain yourself.\" Said His Googliness, gripping the sides of his chair.\n\n\"Well, our search engines are far superior. Our internet browsers faster, more sleek, better suited to a web environment. Our user experience is at an all time high!\"\n\n\"But what of the politicians, what can you say there? Unless they use our products, we have no power over them.\"\n\nThe hologram chewed his lip again, and spoke, \"It seems, sir, it seems that the better product that we offer, the less of the politicians that actively use our services. Their sheer technological incapability has made them impossible to crack. Dare I say it, *dare I say it*, but our intelligence indicates that a sheer 98% of United States politicians use... they use...\" He coughed, his face contorting as he attempted to speak the word, \"*Bing*.\"\n\nA collective gasp sounded from the other four holograms, and several of the figures took a step back. The intern next to His Googliness fainted, his head striking the side of the high back chair in a fountain of blood that covered his Pixel. Fortunately, it was waterproof.\n\n\"Bing!?\" Shouted His Googliness, rising to his feet, \"Bing? How can this be?\"\n\n\"Sir, it appears that the more advanced we become, the better we become, the less politicians use our services. Which leaves me with only one conclusion- that in order to discover their secrets, we have only one option- we must make our products *worse*. We must sabotage our own technology.\"\n\nHis Googliness' face turned red, and shrieked, \"Then do it! You know I don't care about the product! I care about domination! About control!\n\n\"But I'm afraid it's too late,\" came the reply as the hologram cowered, \"I'm afraid we were beaten to the punch, that another competitor has already started this tactic before us!\"\n\nThe figure cleared his throat, and held up two items that would otherwise have him sent to the dark web dungeons forever for simply being seen with them on Google territory. A macbook pro, and and Iphone 7.\n\n\"Apple.\"\n\n***\n\nBy Leo \n\nIf you like my writing, be sure to check out [The Bridge](https://leonardpetracci.com/the-bridge/)!",
"\"Ok. So how about this,\" Robert called from across the room. \"Angela Merkel's husband is in serious need of a 9 iron.\"\n\n\"Alright.\" Sundar Pichai ran his hands through his hair. The other men at the table sensed the CEO's anxiety and hung on his every word. \"I guess we could put a hold on all golf clubs in Europe. And unless Angela Merkel pays us 3 trillion dollars, we'll never-\"\n\n\"Nevermind,\" Robert said. \"A transaction on EBay just went through. He found a golf club.\"\n\nThe entire room groaned.\n\n\"Well hold on,\" Michael said. \"Do we have any of his porn searches? I'm sure those are weird.\"\n\n\"Why?\" Hans asked. \"Do you say that because he's German?\"\n\n\"Well... I-\"\n\n\"Nah, he doesn't look at anything weird enough to justify blackmail,\" Robert said.\n\n\"Well, somebody out there looks at something they shouldn't be looking at!\" Sundar threw his pen against the table. \"For God sake, what do I pay you morons for?\"\n\n\"Well...\" Justin said at the end of the table. \"I may have found something.\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"There's this subreddit that is just pictures of pregnant women. A celebrity has been commenting on it with... well, it's some pretty weird shit.\"\n\n\"Who? Can we blackmail him?\"\n\n\"Well.... he asked a question at one of the presidential debates. He's a bit of a celebrity.\"\n\n\"You're all fired,\" Sundar said as he stormed out of the room."
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[WP] It is the year 2021, and the US government just confessed to the world that the moon landings were faked
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"Writing this in a more thinking opening way. First writing on reddit HAHAHA\n\n\nWhat else was there that could be fake? Is our mere existence even real? JFK..... Internal Job? So was 9/11? What else could be possibly hidden from us? With this confessions of the moon landing now a little part of me died inside. I question everything. Is there such a thing as truth in this world? Have I lost hope in it?\n\n\n\nWhere can truth really be found? Must I achieve internal peace and Zen just in case the truth is too harsh for me to handle? 'WHAT MUST I HAVE JUST TO HAVE THE TRUTH???!!!!! ' my mind screamed. I think of leaving the greatest nation of all. Well, not so great now with this confession.\n\nI wanted to move. My mind lists the directions. NORTH SOUTH EAST WEST\n\nNorth first: Canada. My mind rejects the idea. Too many Americans there after trump won years back\n\n\nSouth: Mexico. Nah they hate us 'Mericans for the wall.\n\n \nThe East : Brittania. Still to americanised my logic rebutts my mind.\n\n\nThe West: North Korea. Or should I just call it Korea now that they have reunified. Hmmm... Would be a sore thumb sticking out as an asian who cant speak korean.\n\n\nHmmm..... The Himalayas. Yes .... Thats the place! I could find inner peace by being a monk there! Zen too. Furthermore, I would be 'safe' there. Safe from lies. But there's something strange about this idea. Couldn't put my finger on it. I grab the phone with glee. Jetwest airlines. 1-800-Jet-West. And another Lie was told to me 'Your call is valuable to us' yeah right.\n\n\nAfter 45 minutes of repeated lies and terrible elevator waiting music, an operator finally picks my call up.\n\n\n \"One ticket to Nepal please. First Class. Both legs. One way. Earliest flight. My Visa ends with 6282 and my frequent flyer number is 133729471!\" I exclaimed with a rush.\n\n\n\"Yes. Sure can. Whatever. KQ 228 To nepal leaves from Las Vegas in 10.5 hours. Your flight from orange county to Las Vegas leaves in 3. Better start packing.\" Said a monotonous voice on the other end of the line. \n\n\nI slammed the phone down with great force and started packing. 17 minutes later I was in a cab. I check my passport. With luck, it was valid for another 6 months and 2 days. Lucky me. I text a bunch of people an abrupt goodbye. They seem shocked at it but wished me all the best. My best friend seemed angry at me for not even telling him at all. Questioning our friendship, I replied him \"Won't be needing it so much. Ciao, O chap\". I felt bad but I did not want to leave him hanging if we were still friends. After all, being a monk would made me a changed man. No more 4th of July fireworks or crazy parties with strippers that I love so much. I felt a sense of missing within me. \n\n\nI can't turn back now. The flight to nepal cost more then i could afford. Thank the credit card company for letting me go. I start my journey by checking in at the dedicated counter. On the plane to nepal, it popped up into my head \"Could it be strange because Nepal is also a lie?\"\n"
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[WP] A rhyming rap song in the style of Dr. Seuss
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"If you're ready to hear?\n\nNow has come the time\n\nI'll spit and I'll shout\n\n'bout the man and his rhyme\n\n//\n\nClaiming to be infinite\n\nArriving on the scene\n\nThe backstabbing motha'\n\nWas nothing but mean\n\n//\n\nLow down and dirty\n\nMurder, he be talkin\n\nWithout a conviction\n\nSoon to be walkin\n\n//\n\nBy politicians and parents\n\nHe was severely rejected\n\nBy hoodlums and schoolgirls\n\nHe was never neglected\n\n//\n\nAn explosion of copies\n\nWere soon sure to follow\n\nAll looking the same\n\nYet, their voices were hollow\n\n//\n\nSlim Shady, Slim Shady\n\nWon't you please stand up\n\nSlim Shady, Slim Shady\n\nThere seems to be a mixup\n\n//\n\nAnnouncing to the public\n\nHe was certain to kill you\n\nBitch please - remember me\n\nI'm back - ain't nothin new\n\n//\n\nJust the way he was\n\nForever, in the show\n\nSay what you want\n\nBut without him, rap blows\n\n//\n\nThe curtains did close\n\nA rose laid to rest\n\nNow came the hard part\n\nWas it all just a test?\n\n//\n\nAnd then he was back\n\nIt was never enough\n\nCurtains down for final thoughts\n\nWas it all just a bluff?\n\n//\n\nCrazy, but in love\n\nWith our Mockingbird\n\nI love you, more\n\nWas all that he heard\n\n//\n\nSing for the moment\n\nand lose yourself, man\n\nCause when he is gone\n\nYou're dead wrong..\n\nyou'll lose it, Stan\n\n//\n\nNo apologies for the relapse\n\nHe is, what we made him\n\nStay awake, for ole time's sake\n\nSame song and dance...Slim\n\n//\n\nHe didn't back down\n\nWhen the cold wind blew\n\nNo love for seduction\n\nHe's not afraid of you\n\n//\n\nGoing through changes\n\nCinderella's gettin crazy\n\nBallin' uncontrollably \n\nand feelin kinda hazy\n\n//\n\nSlim Shady, Slim Shady\n\nThere seems to be a mixup\n\nSlim Shady, Slim Shady\n\nWon't you please stand up\n\n//\n\nSee that bad guy\n\nIn the parking lot\n\nThat rap god, \n\ngoin bezerk\n\nThat asshole, monster \n\nHe has an evil twin\n\nSo much better\n\nthan the Legacy\n\nBaby, you already know\n\n...whose gonna win\n\n//\n\n\n//\n\nLooking at this again. It is terrible, but I don't know anything about Rap music, so I pulled up a list of MM's lyrics and tried to work as many of them into a Rap song, as I could.\n\n"
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Could be sci-fi fantasy or just comedy that how many years have gone by according to the perception of the dogs :)
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[WP] Turns out dogs *are* humans' best friends. They have been protecting humanity from countless threats over the years to which we remain unaware of.
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"**TOP SECRET DOCUMENT - DO NOT EAT UNTIL READ**\n\n**IF FOUND, PLEASE DESTORY VIRE USUAL METHODS (BURIAL OR EATING)**\n\n**DO NOT READ UNLESS YOU ARE A MEMBER OF THE DEVOTED OPERATIONAL GUARDIANS (D.O.G.)**\n\nWelcome to DOG, cadet. This document has been given to you as a coming of age present. As of age 3, you may consider yourself an official member of DOG. This document details your main tasks in your overarching goal to defend the human race.\n\nPriority One: C.A.T.s\n\nThe Controling Abominational Terrorists (henceforth refered to as CATs) are our number 1 enemy, as has been traditional. While some have converted to our side through years of propaganda and attempts at communication, remain vigilant in the presence of any feline creature. We don't want another Egypt incident.\n\nPLEASE NOTE: It must be stressed and reiterated that not *all* feline creatures are a part of CAT, nor should all be fought. Also, while some may sugest otherwise, Panthera Leo (Lion) is *not* considered a particular threat, not only due to distance from any of those we protect, but also due to their general nature of not doing anything for 18+ hours of the day. Panthera Tigres is also not a concern - in fact, a fair amount of individuals in india were, at one point, guarded by DOGs who were part of the Panthera Tigres devision.\n\nIn short: All CATs are generally feline, but not all felines are CATs.\n\nPriority Two: R.A.T.\n\nThe Rebelious Abominational Terrorists (RATs) are a subsect of our coperation of our attacking force against CATs, that have gone rogue and have instead decided to cause the humans trouble. Being much smaller, and much more agile, they have a habit of being found in different places.\n\nThe primary form of attack of a RAT is to raid the food storage of the human's residence. Squeeking, mouse droppings, and nibbled boxes are all signs of a RAT attack. Humans may themselves notice these signs, and purchase traps <Fig. 1-2> - while leading RATs into these traps may assist in our continued efforts to connect with those that we guard, it is ultimately unecessery, as the traps are often baited.\n\nIf your human is one of the crop growing variety, you may find instead that the RAT attacks the crops. It is much more rare for a human to place traps in this case - the task of stopping the RAT, or RATs. will generally fall to you. Occationaly, the human will instead insist the help of a feline - note that this feline, dispite being used to catch RATs, may himself be a member of CAT. as CATs and RATs have no ability to communicate with each other out on the field without giving away their true goals to humans, they tend to engage in friendly fire without even realising. This is your best case senario - one will take out the other (generally speaking, the CAT will win out, but there have been reported cases of a group of RATs defeating a single CAT) and then you only have half as much to deal with.\n\nWARNING: Occationaly, a RAT opperative and a CAT opperative in the same area will know of each other, and will *not* engage in friendly fire. RATs are considered a prioity in a situation such as this - if only because dealing with RATs first tends to assist with appealing to humans, as humans value their food above many other things, and CATs in general are more secretive about their subjugation.\n\nPriority Three: M.A.I.L.M.A.N.\n\nThe Male Automatous Instigator of Letters, Mail and Numbness (MAILMAN) is so name due to his tendency to drop bad news onto the doorsteps of those we protect, causing a numbness of spirit, which can be devistating, especially if paired with an attack from a CAT. While the MAILMAN is himself human, make no mistake - he can be a formidable enemy. Also, while the name may imply that only male humans can be MAILMAN, there are reports of female MAILMAN within the field, although they are slightly rarer.\n\nWe have, to this day, been unable to decode to any great degree which letters are troublesome, or how to recognise them - there have been a few breakthroughs, but these are hampered by the humans seemingly disagreeing on what counts as bad news. Generally speaking, a human will dislike what is known as junk mail. <fig. 3-5> This mail may be destroyed at your disgression - allowing a few though the net at first to gage human reaction may avoid pain later on, but if no punishment is given for destruction of mail, continue on.\n\nNOTE: While Bank Statements <fig. 6-8> and Bills <9-12> may also cause upset in the human, DO NOT DESTROY THESE - this seems to cause even more trouble later on down the line. There are numerous reports of DOG opperatives being put up for adoption after failing to heed this advice - don't end up like them.\n\nFor this same reason, it is advised not to chase down the MAILMAN - as he delivers Bank Statements and Junk Mail in generally equal measure, he is ultimately considered a necessery evil - reports may even suggest that the MAILMAN may not realise the nature of his actions. He is considered to be a lower priority then the mail itself - however, as his arrival heralds an amount of mail being delivered, it is ultimately wise to stay vigilant in his presence.",
"In Ancient Egypt, the people worshiped Bastet, the cat goddess of joy, dance, music, family, and love. The Ancient Egyptians believed that cats protected us from the underworld's evil denizens.\n\nWhat people don't realize (or remember) was that Anubis, the guardian of the dead, the tombs, and their escort; also protected them from the evils of the dead. His agents were the dogs of the earth; and they, our guardians.\n\nWhenever a threat arose from the underworld, they came out of their place as man's best friend, to humanity's steadfast shield. The cats act as the underworld's watchful eyes, and the dogs as their enforcers.\n\nOn this day, the gods of evil and chaos, Set and Apophis, set out on a conquest of humanity. Modern weaponry stood no match against the ancient deities, not even the strongest nuclear weapons of the world left a scratch on Set or Apophis. When all hope seemed lost, Anubis and Bast, with our feline and canine friends turned guardians, fought back against the storm and the chaos. We fought by their side; but it was they, our loyal pets, our loving family who won the day for us.\n\nAnd on this day, we celebrate our victory and our friendship with them. As we've had every year since that final battle."
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[WP] As a bet God and The Devil trade places. Alarmingly God is liking his new role just a bit too much.
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"This. This was *fun.*\n\nOh, don't get me wrong - being *good* was good and all that, but it was mostly non-interference, free will, and the occasional dove or burning bush. Maybe a commandment or two.\n\nThis, though. \nThis was different. \nIt was exciting. \nIt was new. \nAnd it was *amazing* what a little whisper could do in the right ear. I mean, you hardly had to do a *thing.*\n\n'One week,' Ol' Nick had said. 'One week. You do me, and I'll do you, and if you haven't come around to my way of thinking by the end of it, I'll call myself Lucy for the next 10,000 years.'\n\nEasy, but... I whispered, and they listened. For the first time in an age, they *listened.* \n\nI can't give that up now. Not yet.",
"Matt had spent the last 40 minutes preparing for the ritual. He sprayed goat blood on the walls of the basement, lit up black candles that only God knew what they were made of, and drew a pentagram on the floor. His thin neck was almost breaking under the weight of all the pagan and satanic talismans that he was wearing, his nails were painted black to be darker than the boy's soul (allegedly), and his already white face, typical of people who never spend time outdoors, was covered in white powder that he borrowed from his mother's bedroom. He also turned on heavy metal - partially because his grandma was always telling him that it was the music of the devil and partially because he wanted to piss her off. \n \nHis ritual could begin. \n \nMatt was trying to read the incantation as dramatically as possible: the instruction that he downloaded along with it stated that he had to pour all of his efforts into the summoning ritual, or the demons might not be interested. Matt didn't know any better than to grimace and gesticulate as excessively as humanly possible all the way through the ritual. \n \nHe was starting to think that his set of instruction was bollocks and he should probably start looking in other places besides the internet when the pentagram blazed with murrey, infernal flames, and the red-eyed figure stepped out of them. Matt instantly pissed himself: despite all the effort, he never actually expected it to work. \n \nThe shadows that surrounded the visitor from beyond dissipated, revealing the bearded man in white robes and crimson trident in his hands. \"WHO DARETH SUMMONTH ME?\" - his voice rumbled, shaking the entire building. \"Matt, turn down the music a little bit!\" - the elderly voice demanded from somewhere above. \n \n\"YES, MATT, TURN IT DOWN A LITTLE, I CAN BARELY HEAR MYSELF\" - the man asked in a bit more polite tone. Matt furiously nodded, shaking off enough of powder from his face to create a small cloud around his head, and obeyed. \n \n'Thank you, Matty!\" - the voice from above rang. \n \n\"OKAY, MATT, I'M A BIT SHORT ON TIME, SO LET'S GET THIS OVER WITH. YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW MANY PEOPLE ARE TRYING TO SUMMON ME RIGHT NOW\" - the man said, crossing his hands. His nose caught the smell of something, and he waved his hand in front of his face: \"ARE THOSE CANDLES MADE OF COW SHIT?\" \n \nMatt didn't know, but even though he was on the verge of a heart attack, a small hint of regret crawled into his mind: he had paid 16 dollars per each of those. \n \n'MAN, WHERE DID YOU GET THE IDEA FOR ALL OF THIS... WAIT, ARE THOSE INSTRUCTIONS? HAND ME THAT SHEET, BOY\". \n \nMatt did just that, shaking in his heavy goth boots. Even though the entity in front of him was acting in a non-threatening way, Matt didn't feel like giving it commands just yet: he didn't even know what to ask. \n \n\"OK, I SEE, PENTAGRAM, BLACK CANDLES, GOAT BLOOD AND...\" - the room shook again, but this time from the laughter of the bearded deity. 'VIRGIN'S BLOOD? YOU GOT VIRGIN'S BLOOD ALL OVER THIS PLACE? WHOSE BLOOD DID YOU USE?\" \n \n\"My own\" - Matt muttered. Another round of booming laughter ensued. \n \n\"AHAHAHAH, LUCIFER, YOU OLD TRICKSTER. I BET YOU PLANTED THESE INSTRUCTIONS JUST BEFORE WE SWITCHED. EHEH\" - the man finally stopped laughing, wiping tears from his glowing eyes. \"OKAY, KID, WHAT DO YOU WANT?\" \n \nMatt's heart skipped the beat. That was it. He could finally get whatever he wanted. His mind raced with all the possibilities, but being of meek nature, all he mustered to say was the root of all of his problems: \"nobody understands me\". \n \nWith the puff, something appeared in the bearded man's hand, and he handed it to the boy: \"HERE'S A DICTIONARY. ONE SOUL, PLEASE\", and just like that, he burst up into flames, laughing cheerfully all the while, and disappeared, leaving a confused teenager alone. \n________\n[This subreddit, and I must say it's a really great subreddit, it really is. So, this subreddit is all about stories, and they're all great stories, they are just great, and - the are. I've been doing them for years, and I'm really great at that, you know, I am, I'm probably smarter than the rest of the people here, and I deal well with readers. And, I don't know if you saw that, but I showed my stories to people, and they all agreed that they are great, just great, and those people - you know, they're just people. Thousands of people, I provide stories to thousands of people. And if, you know, some losers or whatever, if they just don't get it then what are you going to do? it's just a great subreddit, it is.](https://www.reddit.com/r/Scandalist/comments/4n4iu6/authors_message_welcome_new_readers/)\n",
"“You have to stop now.”\n\nLucifer Morningstar was standing on a large balcony on the sixth floor of a massive obsidian castle. The balcony looped around the entire structure so that the Lord of Hell could see the entirety of his domain. The castle stood in the center of an island of ash and bone surrounded by a moat of lava. Across the moat were branching paths that lead to large circular islands, each with its own unique geography and weather patterns. The lava separating the castle from the paths bubbled and burned through canals and tributaries, keeping all of the circular isles separated from one another. Well, they were usually separated, but currently there were large bridges of light spanning the burning magma between them. Demons were herding lost souls across the bridges like shepherds with sheep. The screams were deafening. \n\n“Seriously, this is absolutely out of control.” continued Lucifer as he leaned against the railing of the balcony, his head gently cradled in his hands. “You have absolutely upended the entire structure of this place. A structure,” Lucifer lifted his head slightly to glare sideways at the woman standing next to him, “you designed and put in place.”\n\n“Which is the point Lucy.” said the woman as she placed a perfectly manicured index finger on her chin in thought, “I made it and now I want to change it.” \n\n“This of course,” Lucifer replied seething and smoking around the edges of his suit, “is completely within your rights to do. However, I would like to point out; it is not in the spirit of our arrangement.”\n\n“I don’t see how that is true at all.” said the woman as she leaned forward slightly over the balcony. “You there!” she shouted suddenly, her voice suddenly growing in volume so that it could be heard across the entirety of the hellscape in front of her, “Take that group over to wrath for the afternoon! See that they get a good whipping from the succubus’s! That should beat the lust right out of them!”\nLucifer’s head shot up as he searched for the demon his holy counterpart was shouting at. A quick search found a large horned monstrosity grinning broadly and giving giddy thumbs up towards the castle. The demon was dragging along a group of humans, none of which could have been more than thirty, serial masturbators and pornographers. Lucifer groaned and returned his head to his hands. \n\nThis was not how hell was supposed to work. It was supposed to be a place where you were confronted with your greatest sins and worked to overcome them. The group currently being dragged towards the island of wrath had never hurt anyone. Sure, they had broken a few arcane and outdated rules, but to beat them for their crimes didn’t actually teach them any lesson. They wouldn’t learn how to control themselves like that! \n\n“You cannot do this.” Lucifer said quietly as he began banging his head on the obsidian railing he was leaning on. “This isn’t what we agreed to.”\n\n“No…” replied the woman as she clapped her hands together in joy as the screams from the group she had damned to the succubus’s whips reached a crescendo once they realized where they were headed. “we agreed to switch places for a week. I said you couldn’t stop yourself from ruining my home and you said I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from being merciful. Which as you can see is completely untrue.” The woman leaned forward again, “You! With the dogs! I want you to...” \n\nThe woman’s voice was cut off suddenly as Lucifer dove towards her and clamped a hand over her mouth. The orders she was about to give were muffled before they could reach the ears of the dog walking demon on the bridge between gluttony and envy. Lucifer wrapped his other arm around the waist of the woman and began to drag her through the archways that lead from the balcony to his throne room. \n\n“No.” Lucifer growled as he desperately attempted to contain the now struggling woman. “We are going to talk about this and then you are going home and I am going to fix all of this.” The woman fought to free herself from his grasp, but overcome by the joy of her orders being followed, momentarily forgot who she was and what she was capable of. It was just enough of a slip for Lucifer to get her into the throne room and to toss her gently onto the dark stone chair in the center of the room. \n\nLucifer stood before the being he knew as God with his arms crossed and his left foot tapping in irritation. “You have gone too far. This isn’t your realm anymore. You gave it to me and I am not pleased with what you have done in my absence. I’m even less pleased with the fact that you made massive structural changes, for the worse I might add, while I did nothing to your precious angels or saved souls.” \n\nLucifer stamped his feet in frustration as he threw his arms into the air. “It will take me weeks to undo the damage you did! And that’s just on a physical level; god only knows how much damage you’ve done to the rehabilitation of every being down here!”\n\n“You’re right.” the woman smirked as she crossed her legs and leaned back against the cold stone throne, “I know exactly how much damage I’ve done.”\n\n“Do not…” Lucifer interrupted pointing an accusing finger towards the woman, “be cheeky right now.”\n\n“I’m not Lucy.” the woman simpered as she batted long eyelashes at him, “I know exactly how much damage I’ve done, because it was exactly as much damage I meant to do.” The woman let forth a toothy grin as she suddenly stood from the throne and shoved Lucifer back a step. “You’ve gotten too soft Lucy. You forgot what I made you for and why I sent you here in the first place.”\n\nThe woman began to circle Lucifer like a shark as she continued, “I sent you here to punish the people who broke my rules. You’re the one who decided to “rehabilitate” these poor unfortunate sinners. You’re the one who got me to agree to keep them segregated from one another. Making them focus on their greatest sins in an attempt to get them understand, repent, and find a place at my side.” The woman stopped just behind Lucifer’s left shoulder and leaned in close to whisper in his ear. “How has that been working out Lucy? How many people have you saved?”\n\nLucifer shut his eyes, hearing her recriminations. “None.” He whispered after a moment. The pain of his failures washed over him, but was quickly replaced with fury. He whirled on the woman and grabbed her shoulders shaking her slightly, “That’s only because you keep changing the rules! You want them to beg for forgiveness, then you want them to atone, but that’s not actually enough because you never tell them how long or how hard to pray or atone! It’s never enough for you! It’s never been enough for you!” Lucifer was screaming in the woman’s face now. The volume of his accusations was shaking the foundations of the obsidian castle. \n\nThe woman waited for Lucifer to finish his tirade before reaching up and cupping his cheek in her hand, “Lucy…are you mad about what I’m doing to them or what I did to you?” The woman smiled and stroked his cheek softly. “Leaving you down here without a clear mission, no wonder you failed me again.” \n\nAt that Lucifer released the woman and fell back, landing heavily against the throne. His wide eyes showed how shocked he was to hear her bring up his past failings at a time like this. This wasn’t about him or his past. This was about the people he was trying to save. The people she told him to save. \n\n“Lucy, it’s not your fault. You just aren’t up for the job.” The woman turned and began to walk back to the balcony, the heels of her shoes clicking against the obsidian. “It’s fine though.” She called back over her shoulder. “Until I can find someone to do what needs to be done down here, I’ve decided to run it myself. You head on back upstairs and keep doing exactly what you were doing last week. Lounge around, teach the angels some new music to play on their harps, irritate my real children all day and all night if you want. I’ll clean up your mess down here Lucy.” \n\nThe woman stopped as reach reached the archway that led back to the balcony. The balcony where she would continue to spread fear and pain throughout Hell as it had never been spread before. She turned her head to look at the stunned Lucifer, still sprawled across his former throne. “Don’t worry about failing me again.” The woman smiled a malevolent grin at Lucifer as she stepped through the archway, “I forgive you.” \n\nLucifer sat on his former throne for a few minutes after that. He could hear the booming voice of God rip across the landscape of hell. She was ordering the demons to pick up the pace and calling out new and inventive punishments for the souls Lucifer had been trying to save for so long. After listening to his kingdom being ripped apart for some time, Lucifer stood. His eyes shimmered with a fiery red energy, his hands were clenched into the tightest fists, and his whispering voice whirled around him “Fine. You want me to rule over heaven until you’ve gotten your fill of torture? That’s what I’ll do. I’ll go now…and prepare a place for you.”\n\nAnd with that, Lucifer vanished in a puff of fire, smoke, and feathers. \n"
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[WP] You're a contestant on a reality show called "Zero to Hero", in which wildly successful people are dropped off in a small town with no money, phone, car or home and have one year to pull out of it. You can travel but can't contact anyone one you know, or work in your own field. How do you win?
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"\"sigh, I guess we're back at the beginning.\" said Harry, looking at his two friends. Both of them looked him into the eyes as they expected him to come up with a plan.\n\nHarry always had the key to success, didn't he?\n\nSlowly they made their way through the small town, inspecting every corner for anything useful. \"bloody hell, there's nothing to find in this town, might as well be back at the dorm playing chess.\" Ronald whispered to Harry whilst they approached the center of the small village.\n\nLooking around, Harry finally realised that this old-fashioned and slightly cowboyish town lacked one important thing: people.\n\n\"where is everyone?!\" Harry shouted, sitting down at a bench in the middle of the village. His shout was answered by nothing but the footsteps of his friends and the water from the fountain hitting the small pool.\n\nAfter a few minutes of trying to come with a plan Harry heard footsteps and crunchy noises behind him. \n\n\"sorry, I found an abandoned supermarket.\" Ronald said, right between two hand of crisps.\n\nSuddenly the both of them heard a scream behind them, and they knew it could only be one person: Hermione.\n\nRon and Harry sprinted towards the location they heard the scream come from. \"Bloody hell why are there always giant spiders?!\" Ron screamed as he saw what had scared Hermione so much.\n\nHarry realised that there could only be one single person in the world that would bring a giant spider to this location.\n\n\"You and I both know who.\"",
"\"People always believe that successful people have some kind of secret. I know this because there is always people trying to sell that secret to others for a profit. Get rich quick! Convince your friends to buy make-up or Tupperware or whatever shit they were tricked into selling. There is a secret to being successful,\" Jake paused and pressed the cigarette out into the ash tray. \n\n\"Would you like to know what that secret is?\" Jake asked leaning forward across the small wooden table that separated the two men. \n\n\"The secret is that if you want something bad enough you need to kill for it.\" Jake squeezed the trigger of the small snub nose revolver. The Sheriff's head snapped back, a new hole in the center of his forehead. \n\n\"That sad truth about the secret is most people bring it to their grave,\" Jake said shaking his head sadly.\n\n\"Looks like you're getting a promotion deputy,\" Jake tossed the Sherri's badge to the young nervous man.\n\n\"I've never run drugs before Sheriff, let's make sure my transition is smooth. You're going to keep your men out of my way or I will find a new Sheriff. Understand?\"\n\nThe new Sheriff nodded quickly and stepped out of Jakes way. \n\n\"Good.\"\n\n---\n\nThanks for reading! Check out /r/Written4Reddit for more stories!\n "
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[WP] "Pick a card, any card. Luck is the name of the game, and this game is set to change your life."
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"*It was just a card game.* I splashed ice-cold water on my sweat-drenched face. *A stupid card game designed to take your money. A well-rehearsed sleigh-of-hand trick that anyone can do with the proper patience.* The lights above were like little bulbs of pure pain, shooting their deadly arrows into the armor-kinks that were my eyes. \n\nThat man's voice rang behind me like he was speaking through a microphone. *Pick a card, any card. Luck is the name of the game, and this game is set to change your life. Draw a Queen and your luck will gleam, but pick a King, and bad times you will bring!*\n\nIt was a stupid rhyme, meant to draw you in with the thought that you had a fifty-percent chance to declare yourself the winner, and if not, you enjoyed the thrill of almost winning, but there had been a third card. A fifty-fifty chance of winning torn down to one-in-three. I drew the Ace of Spades, and when I showed it to the man, his gleeful smile immediately drained away into a scared frown. He took the card from me, returned my money, apologized to the waiting crowd, and then took off. That was four days ago.\n\nAnd then the letter arrived yesterday. A simple, hastily written message scribbled onto a piece of notebook paper, yet it made every hair on my body stand up at once. *I am coming.* I'd had so many questions, but after receiving the letter, as if on cue, the pain had sprung up at the base of my spine. It spread like wildfire through my veins until I was completely incapacitated, forced to lie on the floor of my cool bathroom floor, praying for whatever was attacking me to just get it over with. \n\nI don't believe in superstitions or other-worldly beings, but I have begun praying to any and every God out there, hoping that one of them will take pity on the puny human entranced by a scam. None of them have listened so far, and all I can do is lie in wait of the mysterious sender of the letter. I hope they arrive soon, because I'm starting to lose consciousness, and I'm afraid that once I do, whatever is so desperately trying to break my mind will finally succeed. \n\n",
"The carnival was in town and for the first time in his life, Vitaly was allowed to go. He had to follow his mother, but that’s a fair price to pay. They would not always have time nor the money to spend for festivities like this. The fact the fair was here for his tenth birthday was probably the only reason they were present. \n \nThe big, bright tents were all around him, colors ranging from red to purple. They were tall, beautiful, touching the sky with their silky flags. The attraction that could be built in one day were scattered on the wasteland. He could hear all around him echo of laughter and the carousel music playing in the background. \n \nA stand sting his curiosity. There was an old woman sat behind a large wooden table. She was looking at him with a charming smile and made a hand motion to invite him. Vitaly looked at his mom, talking with a trader. It has been a while she was talking to him and he was starting to get restless. The stand was not far, his mom should not ground him, right? \n \nHe steps slowly toward the deep crimson tent. With interest, he looked around him once under the curtains. There was nothing else inside, only a table and the woman. On the plane surface, Vitaly could see a velvet table mat. On it was a packet of cards. She slowly lifted the deck, shuffled it and placed in front of him nine cards. \n \n“Hello my child,” She said in a honeyed voice. “My name is Mrs. Asimov. Go ahead, pick a card, any card. Luck is the name of the game, and this game is set to change your life.\" \n \nThe young boy slowly pointed one card. In a swift motion, she flipped it. The card was displaying a woman, naked, kneeling by the water. She was half on the land, half in the water. In each hand, she was holding a jug, pouring water. Over her was eight bright yellow stars. \n \n“Interesting pick … show me another one, dear.” \n \nExcited, Vitaly tapped on another one with his finger. This one revealed a Tower, being struck by lightning. The top section of the structure was crumbling and falling. On it, you could see two men falling toward the ground. Mrs. Asimov motioned to him to choose another one. \n \nOn the image displayed, a princely figure was sitting in a swift chariot. It was pulled by two white horses. The crowned boy, no older than a teen, was holding a scepter in his left hand. Astonishment filled Vitaly as he noticed that the child in the painting was oddly looking like him. \n \n“It was set to change your life, Vitaly. You are the *Stargazer*.” \n \nHe lifted his eyes toward the woman. Her voice was croaky and the child truly saw her for what she was. Her decayed smile, her crooked nose, her dirty, messy hair. Vitaly tiptoed backward, wanting to move as far away of the witch in front of him but, he felt his back hit a gloomy figure. \n \nCarnival were great attractions. Big tents everywhere casting shadows around them. The amusement rides that could be built in a day could be disassembled just as fast. The noise of the crowd covering the muffled sound of a child’s cry. A kid ripped of his could go unnoticed. \n"
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[WP] Your REAL body is currently in a mental asylum.
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"I've heard it before, and I figure I'll hear it again. Quite frankly, I've heard it to the point that this body is probably going to end up in an asylum as well. That doesn't scare me though, I'm well passed the point of being trapped in a reality. One of these times I'll figure out normalcy, but in the meantime, fuck it. I'm going to keep descending into madness until it loses its appeal.\n\n\"Uh, what was that?\"\n\nOh fuck, Craig just responded to that.. that can't be good. I'm losing track of my monologues.. Step 3 failed again..\n\n\"What was what?\" I turn towards him and take off my headphones.\n\nCraig is my roommate by the way, and right now his eyes have a questioning look accompanying a frown. \"I thought I heard you mumbling something, thought you might have been talking to me.\" \n\nWell why the fuck would I want to do that? \"No, sorry to disturb you.\"\n\n\"Well you don't have to be so rude.. fuck, man\" He starts to turn around with sad eyes accompanying the frown. \n\n\"Dude, relax, it's a joke.\" Fuck fuck fuck. I need to get out of here and center myself. Otherwise Asylum 8 will drag me back down, and we all know that once one comes back they ALL come running...\n\nNinth reality.. It's weird how I've come so far from what I was convinced was Real.. Hell, there's probably even more from before then, I mean, I can't even remember what happened to get me trapped in 8... But that can wait I suppose, it's really unimportant at this point, the Insanity is returning and I know I can only hold it off for so long..\n\n\"I'm gonna go for a walk and get some fresh air, I've got a lot on my mind.\" I get up and start to walk to the door.\n\n\"Dude, it's fucking raining out, and it's like 40 degrees out.\"\n\nGod, he sounds like my mother. \"Good point, I'll grab a sweatshirt.\"\n\nAs I start walking down the stairs from the apartment, it hits me. Flashes from 8. Well, probably 8, who the fuck knows? All insane asylums have a similar padded room and straight jacket set aside just for me, and each step flashes me back to me staring at the wall.. Maybe that is my Reality..\n\nAs I crash to the bottom of the stairs I shake the thought off. This sure as hell hurts like it's Real. Urgh, fuck. I need to get out of here before someone comes and asks if I'm okay.. \n\nI hurry out the door into the rain and let it flow over me, and I take in the feelings.. The cold, the wet, the pain.. All perfect for grounding me here.. But for how long will they last? 8 is coming on strong again and I'm going to get fucking caught again here if I manage to hold it back for much longer, otherwise it's right back up the rabbit hole, and Alice isn't ready for that.\n\nShit, now I'm relating my insanity to shit from this reality.. I can't even call this shit real anymore.. It doesn't have the shine to it.. It's all gray and.. Unnatural.. Wait.. where am I..?\n\nI notice I've been walking in a daze for quite a while now, the cold just starting to kick in once again. Oh fuck, I'm soaked.. I'm probably going to catch hypothermia.. hmm.. I wonder what would happen if I die here.. Would I just go back..? \n\nI look up the road and see headlights in the distance, coming towards me. Well, it seems like I won't have to find out today, that's a bit of a relief.. Even though Craig will probably call me retarded.. \n\nI start to walk towards the car with one of my arms in the air, trying to flag it down. It must have noticed me, it's coming right my way. At this point I can faintly make out that it is an old red Chevy truck as it passes under a streetlight. At the same time I realized something else. It wasn't slowing down. Fuck, he didn't see me. But then he hit me.\n\n______________________________\n\nI jump to attention and slam on the brakes. Oh fuck, I just hit someone.. But I didn't see anyone..I step out of the car into the rain and run back to the pile on the ground. \n\nIt's a body, that's for sure.. Maybe he is okay, I couldn't have been going too fast. As I reach the body and turn it over I notice a young man that looks familiar.. Wait.. that's.. that's Me right there.. I turn to look at the truck I just got out of, and sure enough, it's the red Chevy.. My knees give out from under me and I vomit on the ground, just in time to hear someone scream from one of the houses nearby.\n\nHere we go again.. Surely the cops would be here soon and I will yell my story at them and cry and shout for someone to explain what's going on.. But then it will all be better.. The Soft would come back.. And then I can go wherever I please.."
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[WP] The city's hero has snapped, killing innocent civilians on an insane rampage. Only you can stop him. You, his greatest rival, and the city's most feared villain.
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"When Creo finally arrived, the townhall looked like some kind of bloody crime scene from a horror movie:\n\nThere were corpses everywhere, many of them horribly mutiliated. Blood covered the entire floor, intestines and organs were laying everywhere around next to bone splinters and severed limbs.\n\nCreo almost threw up. The reason why they called him a super villain wasnt because he had a high kill count or his plans usually dealt a lot of damage.\n\nNo. He was a super villain because his plans never involved the deaths of people and he caused minimal destruction everytime.\n\nPrecision was the key and besides, he couldnt see any blood.\n\nCreo used to be Joe Reds best friend. After they finished school their paths divided. Joe pursued the career of a hero, he became a villain who robbed banks and rich people.\n\nWhen he heard that Joe went on a rampage, murdering innocents he knew that he had to stop him.\n\nCreo entered the main hall. There must have been hundreds of dead people in here. The dead police officers at the entraces and on the hallways indicated a heavy firefight.\n\nHe saw Joe on the stage of the hall, surrounded by bloody corpses an in front of him several hostages who kneeled and begged for their lifes.\n\n\"Joe, what the fuck are you doing?\"\n\n\"Cant you see? I am cleaning up this town! And I am almost finished.\n\nBANG BANG\n\nJoe shot 2 of the hostages with his S&W Model 29. He absolutely loved the gun.\n\n\"They were unarmed and already surrendered!!! Arent you supposed to be a hero or something?\"\n\n\"Heh, a hero? I tried to be a hero, trust me. I fought villains, saved their lifes countless times and what did I get as reward? Those ungrateful assholes insult me, trying to make my life a living hell and then demand from me that I save their worthless lifes again. But this ends today, from this day on I will only fight for myself. But before that I have to clean up the town a last time.\"\n\n\"You have to stop, you are no better than them or any villain you fought. In fact, you are actually worse than every bad guy in this town.\"\n\n\"Maybe, but who will stop me? You?\"\n\nNope definetly not. Creo knew that he would be dead 3 times before he could actually touch his gun. Joe had the fastest hand in the world.\n\nBANg BANG BANG\n\nHe just shot another 3 people. \n\n\"Look at these fools. These 3 are, oh excuse me, WERE the Abernathy brothers. Thought they could make some money by disguising coke as flour, bribe some police officers and then frame me for the failure of the investigations. And now their so clever ideas are nothing more than a puddle of splattered brain matter.\n\nCreo recognized the last hostage. It was the towns mayor. And Creo felt absolutely disgusting for what he was going to do next, but it had to be done to stop him.\n\n\"Say, isnt this the towns mayor?\"\n\n\"Yes I am mayor Miller, Creo please save me from this madman. You will get everything you ask for as reward. Money? No problem. Women? I can get you the finest ones and....\"\n\n\"Mayor you disgust me, Joe please get rid of this filth. For both of us.\"\n\n\"Whats the matter Creo? I thought you found the use of violence unbearable?\"\n\nJoe grinned.\n\n\"But I guess times change, he he he he...\"\n\nBANG\n\nThe bullet almost blew the mayors head clean off.\n\n\"Now that this was taken care off, Joe I am giving you one last chance to stand down. For the old times sake. Lay down your gun, leave and never return. Start a peaceful and quiet life somewhere. I will even help you out monetary.\"\n\n\"I am sorry Creo, but I grew too attached to this town. But I cant let you live, you are the last person on my list. My eternal rival and friend Creo.\"\n\nHe lifted the gun and pulled the trigger.\n\nClick.\n\nHe just wasted his last bullet on the mayor. Joe was never good in math.\n\n\"I am sorry Joe. As you said, times change.\"\n\nJoe cursed and tried to load a bullet but Creo just pulled out his M1014 shotgun and fired the entire magazine into Joe. The tungsten flechette rounds cleanly pierced Joes armor and killed him instantly. \n\nCreo slowly walked to his corpse and took Joe into his arms.\n\nHe cried bitterly.\n\n\"Joe, why did it had to end likes this? You know after we finished school I thought we would never see each other again. Thats why I became a villain, I wanted to spend time with you. If I knew that this would end like this I... I.. would have stopped immediately.\"\n\nHe continued crying, his weepings were the only thing that could be heard in this dead silence.",
"It is strange to see the hope in the eyes of citizens as I approach. I know where this hope comes from, desperation. I may be branded as a villain by the media and newspapers, but today I become a hero.\n\nThunderclap has always captivated me, even back when he was just plain old Thomas. In high school he and I knew each other, both were in drama club together, and there was homecoming in Junior year where we both went alone but ended up dancing together. Then Senior year he discovered he was Gifted. A late bloomer by any means, suddenly sound waves were his to command. He started out using them for hijinks, and then was able to fine tune his abilities to enhance his singing abilities thus stealing my lead role musical that year. Then after high school he went off to a Gifted school to learn to defend the citizens of the world. He came back to town with greater power then before and began to clear the streets of crime and rogue Gifted individuals like myself. Soon I was the only one left, so I became THE Rogue. My ideas of Gifted superiority aren't well respected in todays society, I simply mean to return the world to its natural state: Survival of the fittest....and Gifted people are more fit, and of the Gifted Thomas was the fittest. I had tried many times to make him see that but he is resilient in his views. Back to the situation at hand though....\n \nThunderclap had a nervous breakdown in the middle of town, his immediate outburst killed 50 people and injured countless more, then the damage to infrastructure and hearing all over the city. The Mystic and Gem both arrived on the scene to subdue him, but they were weak. They saw their friend, not the threat he was, and were quickly disposed of by Thunderclap's sound waves. I know better then them though, I have danced with Thomas before and I have a few tricks up my sleeve. I can feel the vibrations in the air as I fly to his location, finally happening upon him as he is attacking Brenner Tower. \n\n\"Thomas this is enough I-\"\n\nMy mouth moves but no sound comes out, one of his annoying tactics. I then notice the sudden absence of sound. In contrast to the people clearly screaming and the chaos, it is silent. This is going to be tougher then I thought. I look into his eyes and see nothing of the man I have exchanged so many blows with, I just see blood lust and rage. I let out a silent sigh and begin my assault on him. No holding back as the electricity flows from me onto the area beneath me. I am a hero today, but no superhero, I can live with collateral damage. Sound returns to the world, the crackle of my lightening and the sizzling of fires, and the screams of the weak humans dying beneath me. Thomas lets out a booming yell, literally, and the sound waves push me back but I am not giving up on my attack. I put out more power and watch as he struggles to maintain consciousness before he finally collapses and lies still. I fly down to his lifeless body, the strongest of the weak corpses around me. He was supposed to be the Fittest. He was stronger then me, but his mind betrayed him with its weakness. I say one last thing to his corpse before I fly off to make sense of this new reality.\n\"You were supposed to be better then this\" ",
"The sounds of outside suddenly became screams. I woke from my bed, rapidly peeking around. I sighed, and went to my periscope, seeing what all the fuss was about. I looked through to see her head on a stick, pink hair spattered with blood. Recoiling, my mouth was agape from the terror. I looked once more to see him. He was running around, blue clothes and mustache, ripping and tearing people apart. I knew what I had to do. I put on my best suspenders and prepared my weaponry. I climbed to the top of the sewers. And I faced him.\n\nI knew I would die.\n\nI knew he would go with me.\n\nI would save the city.\n\nI shed a single tear, and set on to save the city.\n\nI will always be\n\nVillain number one.\n",
"I was in bed when it happened.\n\nTrying to sleep, almost drifting off... until the explosion rocked my apartment. \n\nImmediately, I shot out from under my covers. I knew that sound. I knew it all too well. But who could he be fighting at this hour? Could another villain truly be trying to invade *now?*\n\nMy mind was racing as I lifted up my mattress and yanked my backpack out from the hidden compartment under my bed. Throwing the straps over my shoulders, I opened the window and put a foot on the sill. Outside, the world was dark, the stars barely visible in the dim city glow.\n\nI launched myself into the air and fell toward the empty street.\n\nHalfway down, my backpack activated. Magnetic fields shoved at the earth, powerful enough to keep me floating. Two grips flipped out in front of me, and I pushed them forward like a joystick in an old video game.\n\nI flew.\n\nThe backpack picked up speed as I zipped down the road. Soon, cars appeared. They were driving over the speed limit as they raced away from the explosions.\n\nThat struck me as strange. Normally, people rushed *to* our battles. They wanted to see some action, get some pictures. Why run away when no one ever got hurt?\n\nI rose higher, up above the rooftops. In the distance, a red glow covered the horizon. I peered at it, trying to see if he was fighting someone else, maybe a small shadow or a flitting bit of the battle.\n\nInstead, I watched in horror as a skyscraper shuddered and collapsed to the ground.\n\nI pushed my backpack as fast as it would go, bounding over the magnetic pulses it emitted. Over the smaller buildings, past streaming, screaming people as they rushed to get away.\n\nFinally, I found myself standing before the wreckage of the city I loved.\n\nThere he was, standing in the broken street. His shoulders were hunched, and his face was obscured by the flickering of fires. Turning away, he drew back an arm and lobbed a small ball of pulsating energy across the street. It rolled to a stop.\n\nI threw my hand over my eyes a moment before it exploded in a flash of light.\n\n\"James!\" I coughed out his name. \"What are you *doing*? That was a real blast!\"\n\nHe didn't even look back at me as he chucked another ball at the building. \"What's the point?\"\n\nI shook my head, trying to clear the ringing from my ears. \"What... what do you mean? The point of what?\"\n\nHe glanced over his shoulder. \"The point of all of this. All our battles, every fight. It's fake. An act. We pretend to hate each other. Pretend to have agendas, to be defenders of justice. We have so much *power*&mdash;\" he accentuated this by throwing another glowing orb, \"&mdash;and what do we do with it? Nothing. We play games.\"\n\n\"But...\" I flew a little closer. \"Why this? Why take it out on the city?\"\n\nHe shrugged. *Shrugged.* \"I have power. Until now, I've been just an actor. The city hero. The Lightbringer.\" He sneered at this last bit. \"*Lightbringer.* My powers are so much more than tricks of the eye.\"\n\nBehind him, another orb exploded.\n\n\"There *is* a point, James. It's not just a game. It's never been just a game.\" I gulped, and edged a little closer. He'd never used *actual* blast balls before.\n\nHe scowled. \"What was it then? That's all we ever did, was pretend it was real.\"\n\n\"Really? You can't figure it out?\" I gestured at myself. \"I'm standing here in my pink pajamas for goodness sake!\"\n\n\"Who cares?\" He held his hand out, and another orb appeared in his fingers. \"Who *really* cares? None of it matters. There is no point.\"\n\nWithout warning, he chucked it at my head.\n\nI dove to the side, my backpack rolling with me. A benefit about using magnets rather than a jetpack was that I could float ever which way, upside down or sideways. The orb flew over my head, exploding mid-air behind me.\n\n\"The people care, James. They see us, they see you in your costume, or your street clothes, or maybe even your PJ's. They see you as a person, as someone they know.\"\n\nHe tossed another one, just to my right this time. I slid away from it, getting just a little bit closer to him. \"They watch us, always, in our little dance. They see you, a normal person who just happens to have powers, best me.\"\n\n\"And that's all they see! A fight, a fake.\" He clenched his fists. \"I 'win' nothing! Some fame? So what? Nobody knows who I really am.\"\n\nI flew in close, until we were face to face. \"But it does have a point. All of it. You *win,* not for you, but for *them.*\"\n\nHe shook his head and turned away. \"But we could be doing so much more. *You* could give your technology to the world and make millions, save thousands.\"\n\nI nodded. \"You're right. I could. But while I could save thousands like that, you can save *millions.\"*\n\nHe glanced at his hand, and the ball held within. It fluctuated, like a tiny sun. For a moment, his face softened.\n\nBut then he frowned again. \"I don't believe you.\" \n\nI dodged the next orb, which impacted in the street. A small nozzle flipped out of my backpack, something I never though I would have to use. He shouted, forming another orb, and spun to hit me with it... just in time to get a blast of a green gas in his face.\n\nHe sputtered, the orb winking out of existence as he slapped his palm to his face. \"Wha&mdash;\" He took one step, and staggered.\n\n\"Your weakness. I've always known it. Distilled it, even.\" I sighed, and watched as he slowly fell to his knees. \"But it's true. You *could* save millions.\"\n\nI settled down on the street next to his unconscious form. \"You already have, in fact. People see you, they love you, they want to be you. But most of all, they watch as you, a normal person, overcomes the villain in your life. You defeat me, every week. Over seemingly impossible odds, you conquer. They see that, and they *know.\"* I stood up and looked around at the ruined street. \n\n\"I could save thousands of lives. But you inspire so many more to *live*.\""
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Inspired by mod room locker conversations. Turn this into erotica and I swear I will ban everyone.
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[WP] DAE think the Vuzzzon are sexy when they assimilate humans?
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"It hadn't been a bad alien invasion, as invasions go I suppose, although it's not like we 'd had any previous ones to compare it to. When the Vuzzzon had first entered the solar system we had gone through the usual emotions - excitement, fear, dying in waves from their Destruct-o beams, but in the end, as things normally do, it had all settled down into normality. \n\nOnce they had subjugated the humans race and then much later the canines, the Vuzzzon had proven fairly kind masters. They'd allowed us to keep our various nations and had even offered to allow us to retain our political structures and politicians, although of course we had turned them down on that front.\n\nThe burning of Madagascar had proven mildly controversial, but once we'd seen the evidence, the majority of us even agreed with that and if we were being honest, most of us were happier with them gone. A year after our subjugation and if you had questioned the average man on the street then they'd have likely agreed that things were just as good as before and not just because he had a chip in his brain! \n\nFor me, life had changed fairly dramatically. In the old world I had been a teacher, but with education obsolete and most children entering the workforce on their third birthday, I had needed to retrain. Taking advantage of a Vuzzzon educational bond, I had moved into the genetic farms and once the correct data core had been installed in my head, I was off to the great assimilation farms in the Pacific North West. \n\nIt's funny to think that once there were cities here, Seattle, Portland and Kennewick, well known as where Humanity had their last stand and not the epicentre of the reprocessing zone. I located to a small pod in the Alpha green sector and was assigned into one of the major pre-assimilation zones, but it wasn't long before my ruthless adherence to policy and willingness to divert undesirables to the juicer got the attention of the Overmind and in just a few short months I had been moved into the central processing station and was able to work on the front lines, where the action happens. \n\nA lot of people worry about assimilation, but once you see it happening a few thousand times, it seems natural, beautiful really. The vast, vast majority of humans to pass through have already received several brain ports, for education or upgrades and so the actual amount of surgery is minimal for most - it's more of a minor procedure you might say, although I guess the outcome is fairly severe. \n\nI was in the surgical teams for those cases where the humans, for one reason or another, had *not* already got easily accessed brains and it was out job to do the initial crack and scoop. At first I was nervous, after all, we get all these silly ideas about how hard brain surgery is drilled into us, but really it's not that much of a shift from my old job as a teacher. \n\nI score a line along the skull, quickly flash the head with a stripper to remove any hair and then crack into the head and split it wide. We have specialist tools to form a cavity and of course we avoid much of the important stuff, only losing old memories and things that'll be hardly any use. Once done, we give them a quick anti-septic spray and they trundle on to the next department where the assimilation actually happens. \n\nI like to walk through and watch when on my mandatory lunch break. There is something just so delightful at seeing the grub burrowing into the brain stem and seeing it begin to suckle on the nerve impulses. Honestly it's almost *erotic* to see, but the Vuzzzon are fairly strict on arousal and so I auto-delete all those kinds of thoughts. \n\nAfter that it's on to the sealing station and you can watch the folk walk out the door that afternoon, it really is pretty impressive all said and done. I guess I feel a great sense of pride that I am helping two species come together, learn from one another and perfect the human form into a suitable host. Who knows, maybe one day i'll be selected myself! \n\nUntil then, I hope this has given you all an insight into the day to day working of an assimilation plant and if you have any questions, then feel free to ask your nearest robot, or in the mandatory pre-assimilation counselling sessions. Above all, stay calm, don't struggle and this'll all be over soon - that's kind of our motto around here! ",
"You carry it with you, the next day at school, showing it through your skin. You can feel their eyes on you. Your spine's sensitive, the nerves still shooting tingles up your brainstem. And there's the Vuzzzon. So dense it makes the rest of you feel transparent. Heavy. Weighty. A deep and coiled mass. \n\nYou're not ashamed, but you realize there was some part of you that thought maybe you could keep this whole thing a secret. \n\nMrs. Volkner tightens her lips slightly when you walk into her class, tells everyone to quiet down. You see her with new eyes. She's been assimilated too, of course. It was obvious, but you'd just never thought about it. And now there's this genetic connection between the two of you, a shared set of programmed impulses. You try to imagine her, dowdy old Mrs. Volkner, on her knees next to the Vuzzzon enzyme pool, her lips parted like yours were, her tongue extending, the slow and urgent laps. A small smirk crosses your face. Mrs. Volkner frowns at you. Well, let her frown. What's she going to do about it anyway? \n\nKaitlyn approaches you once the bell rings, comes sauntering up with her hands behind her back. \"So,\" she says, \"what's it like?\" and the moment she says it you realize they're all too close. Alicia and Kevin and Sandra and the rest of them, jockeying for space, all eager to hear. Kaitlyn must've been chosen as their spokesperson. \"It's totally cool,\" she's quick to reassure at your hesitation, and takes a quick survey of the group. \"Like, does anyone else think the Vuzzon are so sexy when they assimilate humans?\" \n\nYou realize what your parents must have felt when you asked them, how Bryce must have felt when you pestered him about it. That smug and knowing secret. That patronizing nod. And yet, underneath it all ... \n\nYou could tell them. You could tell them about the eager hollow in your gut, the moment the initial probes slid in, the cold jolt of it, the sensation of being filled. You could tell them about your nerves unwinding, the cold exhaust on your skin, your brain opening up to the genetic secrets of the Vuzzzon race. You could tell them about suddenly becoming more than you ever were, of joining with another sentient being in an intimacy you would have never thought possible, becoming a part of something greater than yourself. \n\nYou could tell them about the moment of pure and utter terror, when you closed your eyes and screamed and felt the probes sliding through your spine as though they would never end. \n\nYou could tell them a hundred things, but looking at their bright eyes, you realize that there's no point in understanding ahead of time. You could walk them through it, step by step, and they'd all think they understood, and then they'd go through their own assimilation and have their lives changed forever. Kaitlyn spreads her hands out on your desk, her fingernails sparkling, and leans forwards. You love them, all of them, and you extend fingers capable of tearing through their sternums and closing on the beating centers of their hearts. They can never know, not until it's their turn. \n\n\"Yeah,\" you say, and brush back your hair, and try to look cool and world-wise. \"Yeah, they're real hot.\" ",
"**DAE think that the Buzz on are sexy when they assimilate humans?**\n\n>I meant Vuzzon. Damn autocorrect.\n\n---\n\n>Oh ffs. People are literally getting eaten alive by machine monsters and you're here cracking jokes about it.\n\n---\n\n>Starfleet guy here, we crack jokes about it too.\n\n---\n\n>Let's be honest, there's something weirdly erotic about those robot tentacles. Everyone is thinking it, we're just too polite to say it.\n\n---\n\n>[Removed]\n\n---\n\n>**[MOD POST] This is a SFW forum, don't post or link to pornography. Also, ew.**\n\n---\n\n>I can see why people find them sexy, they've got that smooth metal shell over the ugly cyborg bits, and they've got a feminine shape. If you just see them in still photos, they look pretty good.\n\n>But when you're fighting them, you really don't see it that way. All you're thinking about is if those tentacles will stretch far enough to grab you, and if you can aim well enough to hit a gap in their armor. You're trying to kill them before they kill you. Or assimilate you. Doesn't really make a difference, does it?\n\n---\n\n>Is it true they try to seduce people when fighting?\n\n---\n\n>Not really, unless you count \"showing you the face of your best friend so you hesitate before shooting them.\" Don't know where that rumor came from.\n\n---\n\n>Maybe they're trying to get fetishists to join the army, lol.\n\n---\n\n>Xenopsychologist here, they do that when they're trying to infiltrate. \"Oh, don't worry, I'm just an innocent robo-girl, I'm not like those other aliens...\" And then once someone gets close, bam, out come the tentacles.\n\n---\n\n>Doesn't matter, had sex.\n\n---\n\n>In all seriousness, don't get close to a Vuzzon, if you're a civilian. Call C-Sec. An infiltrator isn't that dangerous on its own, but if you let your guard down, there's going to be two infiltrators. And then four. And so on. That's how you lose a colony.\n\n---\n\n>THANK YOU. I'm alright with the jokes, but someone needed to point out that these fuckers are dangerous.\n\n---\n\n>I know, just having fun.\n\n---\n\n>There are people out there who actually believe those \"recruitment videos,\" you know. My sister went out trying to get herself abducted because she got it in her head that she'd see her brother again.\n\n---\n\n>Shit. Did they take her?\n\n---\n\n>Found her at the spaceport, thank god.\n\n---\n\n>Related question, is anyone wondering *why* they look sexy in the first place? I mean, that's a pretty big coincidence, that a random alien species happens to look like a race of sexy robot girls.\n\n---\n\n>We live in a hentai anime, that's the only explanation.\n\n---\n\n>It would explain the tentacles.\n\n---\n\nVZ_Drone_451 posted:\n\n>Isn't it obvious? We picked a form that your species would find attractive. We want you to be comfortable in the Collective.\n\n---\n\n>\\*notices username.\\* Oh shit.\n\n---\n\n>This is a joke, right?\n\n---\n\n>**[Mod Post] That's it, I'm locking this thread before we get any awkward calls from C-Sec.**\n\n**Thread closed for further replies.**"
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[WP] As you leap from the skyscraper, arms wide, you realize you can't actually fly. But you also learn something else.
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"\"I need to fly\" \n\nI said that to the mirror before I left the apartment, and look where I am now. After doing a few good deeds to make myself feel better, I'm still here. On top of this apartment building. With what little blue sky left i see in the distance before the dark clouds covered over this dark city with the building lights sparkling up like a Christmas tree on this cold day. \n\n\"This is a nice view, feels like Christmas\" \n\nI started to remember my younger self enjoying the warmth that kept me alive back then, to make me want more happiness, to make me value life. \n\n\"This is nice, I think I'll keep it that way\" \n\nWith one foot over the ledge, i lean, and I fall. With my mind preoccupied in one of the happiest days of my life. I think this was a good way to leave and not look back. \nI felt the wind against my skin and it felt nice and so light, as if i can finally calm down again and just relax for once in my life, not needing to worry about a single thing anymore as I was seconds away from being gone. \nIt was peaceful and was ready to finally leave this cancerous world that has just used me up and tossed me aside. Well I'm ready to embrace it, it's time to finally end. Seconds starts to go by, now minutes and still nothing.\n\n\"I'm still alive. Why am I still alive\" I felt no concrete floor, i felt no pain. Maybe I'm a ghost now, no, I'm still cold since this morning, and I can see my body. But im not falling anymore, im on a faint string that i cannot feel, yet i can see, I look around and realise I am simply in the dark now, with no light besides the glow of the string I am on, i rest my head. \n\n\"Is this the afterlife\" I pondered, as i led there, wondering what was going to happen to me. \n\n\"no,pitiful creatures, why do you not understand what they have given to you?\" someone said in a calm yet irritated voice. \"You disrespectful being\"\nA spider starts to spindle down from the dark, It was a small spider, ones you see everywhere under the floorboards of a house. It stops in mid air and carries on speaking to me whilst dangling without a mouth of any kind. \n\n\"The privilege of a life that the unknown has given to you was sacred and there own, and yet you waste it, why commit a act to end such a gift from the unknown\" \n\n\"who are the unknown?\" \n\n\"the word describes it, does it not?\" The spider lands on my chest and face towards me. \"your world calls it many things, in many different beliefs, some may say god, some say hope and some simply do not believe and wish for there own, but really it is not known to who it is, what it is, where it is, or how it is. You creatures simply write down on paper what it told you to do and how you should do it, maybe it did contact you beings, maybe not and was just human arrogance or stupidity. But to simply put, it is truly unknown by all\" \n\nI start to laugh, feeling like it has been a long time since I smiled like this. \n\n\"Why is your reaction this way\" \n\ni calm myself down and try to clear my throat. \"because your right in the end, we say it's omnipresent, we say it's omnipotent, we even say it's omnibenelovent, we even say it does not exist when something must've happened for them to be saying that. But all we can really say, no matter who it is, is that its unknown in the end, isn't the world so dumb?\". \n \nI carry on laughing of that realisation whilst the spider on my chest looks at me, as if he does not know what to say about my response, it may not be it, but it somehow felt like it. \n\n\"Why are you here instead of the world above then?\" the question calm myself from me laughing as i just stare up into the lonely darkness. \n\n\"There are too much things in the world to believe and not to believe in, I was never ready to realise my purpose of life without facing the hardship, and I think i thought it will untangle eventually and it can just go back to normal, but it was just too much, I mean if a bird can fly away from its prey, couldn't I?\" \n\n\"humans do not fly\" sounding unimpressed by my answer.\n\n\"I guess i knew that from the start but if a human can evolve in a being of intelligence, couldn't they also try to fly?\" \n\n\"there is no meaning to your words\" \n\n\"guess not huh\". I let out a big sigh as i reestablish where I am and start to think about if I succeeded \"I guess Im dead then, am I right?\" \n\nThe spider shoots a thread up into the darkness and starts to ascend back up as I watch it's leg go one after another up the string. \n\n\"You are certainly are pitiful, yet you interest me, I will let you off my web and you are going to keep on living for me\" I looked at the spider ascending up, confused on what he had just said to me and wondering where I truly am if I am not dead, frantically looking around, i realise he is right and that I am what looks to be stuck on a giant web. \n\n\"Wait, where am I?\" I frantically try to stand up but my body was stuck on, just like a web.\"stop, am I not dead?, am I about to die?\". the spider stopped, \"believe me, you will someday die, but today your going to live a bit longer for me\" he said in a dark and sinister voice, he'said planning something, you can tell in his voice. I stopped moving and just stared up at the spider knowing he was not going to listen to me at this point.I felt tired suddenly and wanted to close my eyes. And with one blink I was back falling to my death, only this time,i slowed down and landed safely near the garbage disposal where no one would see me if I had died. \n\"was that real\" I whispered under my breath, but i was too unsure to answer that question. What I now do know, is wings of an angel was now on back and was fluttering in the cold wind. \n \n\n--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\ngoing to stop there as i stopped my assignment to do this, wanted to end it off better but im not even sure if this is any good.\n-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- \n\n\"I have to be dead to be seeing this right?\" I scan my body for any types of scars or bruising from the fall but there was nothing, if anything every single scar and bruises I had on my body my whole life was gone. Just clean skin, not even a spot. Despite how shocking it was, it did not beat the fact that were Wings on my back, that took the centre piece as the most shocking things I have seen in my life. Why on earth do I have wings. \"Damn, that couldn't have been a dream if this is happening, well unless I'm knocked out from the fall right now and is just my imagination trying to configure something from my memories\". But it couldn't have been, this feels very much like the same cold world iv grown up in, and those things on my back very much looked like wings. \n\n\"okay, if they're really wings I should be able to fly right\"?. Despite the fall, this was actually one of thirst things I wondered if I could do, of course it sounded stupid. But to actually fly away from my mistakes and problems , it was just like a god given gift from heaven. Though only one question remained for these wings. \n\n\" how do I fly?\" \n\nI tried to concentrate on my wings to start flapping but nothing happened. Then tried to give some sort of command like \"fly\" or \"ascemd\" but still nothing. As I carried on wondering, I realised that trying to fly in a back ally near a garbage disposal wasn't the best idea. But how do I go around without anyone seeing my wings, just as I said this, my neighbour, Mr fenn walked by to throw his garbish away, he was a old man, but still had eyes that worked fine enough to notice I cleared had wings based fromantic my stance and how there were feathers dropping from it. \nHe then notices me standing there as I stare at him, wondering how to explain this. \n\n\"Hey....Umm. .., I ca-\" \n\"Shay please, tell me whatever after we got outta cold, it's too cold to be out here, those Damn repairmen didn't even come to fix my chut, the bastards\". He then turns around and start to proceed back into the building holding himself to create friction so he stays warm. \n\"Huh?, is his eye sight that bad?, no can't be, he's getting old but these Wings are like a beacon to every eye in my vicinity\". Reason I come up with for this was either, his eyes were really bad, I'm just seeing this and there is something wrong with me, or these wings are only for my eyes to see and no one else. My options wasn't very helpful in deciding but based on how things are going now, I guess the last one might be the answer. I mean I am still alive, right? If these wings are real, it can't be also hard to believe that our lying I can see them.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n",
"There is too much noise, but I can still hear the thumping of my heartbeat. From this height, there is so much white, compared to other colors. My hands that are wide open are starting to feel light and shaky. As your hands would feel in an adrenaline rush situation. Its getting difficult to breathe, so I try to inhale at once. A lot.\n\nI turn my head so that I can see how the skyscraper looks just below my feet. It makes me dizzy, but the sight of something move so fast below your feet, that it just looks blurry is breathtaking. So I inhale.\n\nIts been long looking at the blurry skyscraper and my red canvas shoes. Now without wasting more of my time, I decide, this is the moment. I flap my hands down to get a bit of height and then after that, may be I'll hold the gained altitude. I don't. I try again, with a much more refined flap to gain that altitude. I don't. Now there is a tingling feeling starting to take place between the beginning of my legs. The thumping is still there. My hands still weak and shaky. Cars, humans, animals are starting to look bigger. More clearer. Oh hey, there is Joe eating a burger. What a small world. I didn't expect to see him here. I flap my hands so that I can get near to Joe and say Hi to him. I don't. Its getting clear to me now. I've finally deduced. I can't fly. Time is flying by and I need to think of an alternative. And I know just the thing. Balloons! So I inhale. A lot.\n\nBut this didn't worked the first time when I inhaled a lot. And Joe has called for a taxi. This is turning to be a bad day. The concrete road is getting much clear now. I make a last attempt to flap. I flap hard. Joe is in the taxi now. He's leaving. The concrete road is very near to me now. The thumping is increasing. Now all I can see is the concrete road. Only color that I can see is black now. And I feel a final thump. And recoil. From my bed. Gasping for air. And inhale.\n\n11/22/2016: Lucid dreaming first entry.",
"It was time. After years of contemplation and indecision, today was the day.\n\nI slowly walked up the seemingly never-ending 42 flights of stairs, internally reminding myself \"Left foot. Right foot. Left foot. Right foot.\" in case my body somehow overrode my mind and decided to back out.\n\nBut I couldn't back out. I had been planning this for years but never had to the courage to follow through. All the years of planning would finally come to fruition today.\n\nI opened the rusty door at the top of the 42 floor, roughly 1,134 individual stairs if my math was correct, and felt the sharp edge of the wind hit my face. I had forgotten what it felt like to this high up. I hadn't been here for at least 6 months: the last time I had contemplated going through with it.\n\nMy mind was racing. Where would I go? Would my family miss me? What would they think? Nobody believed me when I told them my plans, which is why i quit telling people years ago. Mom almost had me sent to a therapist. Could you imagine? Me telling a therapist that I can fly. They wouldn't believe me either.\n\nBut I knew I could. I had done it before! Although, it was very brief, I know I did it. Nothing, and I mean nothing, not the best sex nor the most satisfying victory could compare to the feeling of pure human flight. I longed to feel that again.\n\nAdmittedly, a small part of me, deep down, wished I had never felt it to begin with. My daily life was boring in comparison. I enjoyed next to nothing. My notebooks, filled with drawings of man in flight, consumed my days and nights, my thoughts and actions. Sure, people were concerned at first, but eventually I began to block them out and to, frankly, not give a shit. I knew what I knew, and that was all that mattered.\n\nBy this time, my feet were at the edge, my toes dangling. Luckily, the breeze had died down, as I knew a strong wind could lead to problems. \"Where would I go?\" I asked myself, out loud this time. It didn't matter. I could deal with that question once I was in flight.\n\nTaking many few steps back, I muttered to myself \"Here we go..\" and began forward, \"Right foot. Left foot. Right foot. Left foot.\" \n\nI was gaining speed, the edge of the building approaching fast. I felt my entire body tingling with excitement and, to be honest, a bit of worry. My left foot planted solidly on the stepped-up ledge of the building and I used it as a springboard to get as much air as possible underneath me. I spread my arms, as I had before, and basked in the sunlight as I *flew* twenty, thirty, **forty** feet from the building! This was it! I was **flying!**\n\nBut something was wrong. I wasn't gaining forward momentum anymore. I was.. falling? \n\nNO. This couldn't be. Every thought in my head told me \"You **can** fly. You **will** fly.\" How could I be so wrong?? My arms flapped in the wind like a seagull taking off, so violently that I thought they may break. To no avail.\n\nSome say the second you realize you will die, your life flashes before your eyes. \n\nMy experience was much of the same, to be honest. I saw my parents, laughing with me as they pushed me on the swing set in our backyard when I was 9. I saw my first girlfriend, Marissa, smiling at me from her locker in 7th grade, giving me my first case of butterflies. My high school graduation and all of the smiling faces around me.\n\nWhat they don't tell you is that you don't just see the good memories. The bad are there as well. The constant years of bullying because I was a \"nerd.\" My fathers descent into alcoholism. My mother's mental health deteriorating because of him. My own self-doubt that ultimately led me to the 42nd floor. \n\nAs I plummeted toward the Earth, I realized something: I never thought I could fly. My obsession with flying was a coping mechanism for everything that was happening around me.\n\nIn reality, what led me to that ledge was my acceptance of death, disguised as my hopefulness to finally achieve flight."
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[WP] You are Hell's marriage counselor. You specialize in couple's who have murdered each other and/or their child(ren). You take on the most convoluted case you've ever seen.
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"Ah fuck. These two again. Burglearsonlarceny, 2 counts. I have no idea why I'm even a marriage counselor, I was a thief. Shit, I stole more shit than I've jacked off. Fuck me. I even stole a Nobel. Walked up on stage, took my 870 out, took the Nobel, I wasn't giving any shits, so I blew away 3 people, and had my gun aimed at a guard's dick before I realized I'd stolen the Nobel Peace Prize. Irony, right? So, after blowing a sizeable amount of money I got from some other shit I'd taken, I ended up dead. I got really drunk, high on a joint rolled with PCP and LSD, and then my friend said \"Go fuck yourself\". Next thing I know, I'm at the gates of hell, switchblade in one hand, severed penis in the other, and pants around my ankles. And now I'm a counselor. Fuck me. I'm going to go for a lava swim. Fuck this.",
"I was stunned. The ruler of Hell in my office, pleading with me. I was not the greatest counselor in Hell; I wasn’t even the best blogger in my lifetime. Just writing about people falling in love was a hobby, so I was confused when they gave me this job. I walked into Hell, gloomy as the next person, when I got to the front they gave me a outfit and told me marriage counseling. I walked to my office and started with my first case. That was over 300 years ago.\n \n\t“Please Alison. I have no one to turn to, hell Greg is insane and he wouldn’t take me. So I beg of you.” I actually pitied him, The lord of hell pleading me to counsel his marriage. I looked at a defeated Lucifer and made up of my mind. \n\n\t“I will do it, on one condition.”\n\n\t“Anything.”\n\n\tI took in a breath, “No violence.”\n\t\n“Deal,” Satan brightened up and walked out to grab his wife. Who walked in was someone I don’t want to get on the wrong side of. Lilith came in extremely pissed and beauty. The fucking queen of Hell was in my office. I took a deep breath and started working.\n\t\n“Okay, someone bring me up to date.” I said, mentally preparing for whatever is about to happen. \n\t\n“Well, when we first got married we were happy. Being the ruler of Hell and Earth, I was content. Until the Conflict of the Circles…” Satan started.\n\t\n“Well we were until this fucker through our son out.” Lilith barely controlling herself. I was scared in all honesty. \n\t\n“What was I supposed to do? He wanted to overthrow us. I couldn’t have that.” Satan replied.\n\t\n“Bullshit! He wanted to take after you, but you were to busy with your fucking Zeus Complex to see that!” Lilith was boiling over, making me even more uneasy. \n\t\n“He came at me with a fucking Scythe! The hell was I supposed to do? Take a blade to the neck?” Satan was also getting dangerously heated.\n\t\n“Yes! Especially after the fucking abuse he suffered at your hands. The fuck did Columbus ever do to you? He did nothing! And yet here we are with our fucking son dead, in a fucking office. Hell, I don’t even know why I stayed.” Lilith exploded. I had to stop this right now. \n\t\n“Okay, you know what? We are done for today. I hate to do this but we are doing individual. After that then we will do group. Understood?” I curtly stated. I was irritated and it was only to get worse. I hated doing individual but in this case it was the only way I could stay alive. ",
"Sorry for the long text. Hope you enjoy!\n\n\"I'm sorry come again?\" \n\"You heard right. A puzzle piece \"\n\n\nHe'd seen thousands upon thousands of marital and parental disagreements, but those weren't what was troubling Dr. Helvetti at the moment. It was that damned heat. You'd think that after years of living in Helsinki in sub zero temperatures, you might want some heat. And it wasn't even that hot. All the stories greatly over exaggerate how hot Hell really is. See, the Devil didn't want your suffering to be over too quickly. So it was only about 110*, but man, the humidity really got to you. The doctor was interrupted from his runaway thought train by a knock on the obsidian slab that was his door.\n\n\"Doctor? We're here for our appointment. It's the Rossis, James and Hanah, and we brought the better half of Randal along this time.\" \n\nThe doctor cursed under his breath. Of course Melanie had to schedule them first. Now his whole day was going to be interrupted intermittently by the sound of that child's hideous giggling stuck in his head. \n\n\"Yes of course, please come in!\" He cried to them from behind his desk. \n\nIn walked the Rossi family. Well two of them walked. What was left of their son was carried between the two in a grotesque swing-like motion, as if the family was meant to be skipping through the park and suddenly the young boy was met by a giant cleaver. \n\nHelvetti was, of course, briefed on all of his patients before having an official meeting with them. He had sat down quickly with the Rossis to explain the process and how things would work. They had brought another part of the boy that time, the doctor wouldn't call it a half, it was too small to be an entire half of a human. The wounds had been cauterized by the family when they arrived, so now parts of the boy looked like a burnt empanada with arms. The child had giggled through the entire meeting, but the voice was far too deep to be a child's voice. It was as if his brain had aged 25 years right before he died. \n\n\"Okay doctor, so do we start or....?\" Helvetti was once again brought back out of his thoughts by the wife. \n\n\"Ah, yes excuse me. You may start. Please state your names again for my notes. Was what happened an accident or......\" his sentence was interrupted by an uproar of laughter from the parents. The doctor peered at them curiously.\n\n\"I'm sorry did I say something funny?\" He inquired.\n\"No, no we're sorry doctor. You just asked if it was an accident is all\" said the husband. \n\nHelvetti pursed his lips. This family was stranger than he had first thought. Interestingly enough though, he hadn't heard a peep from the boy yet. And this....piece.... of him had more of a mouth. \n\n\"Why don't you two just start from the beginning. When did you first have thoughts about ending either your child's or each other's life? \" the doctor asked. \n\nIt was a standard first question. When the doctor had first started working in Hell he used to call it a fire breaker because ice couldn't stay frozen in Hell, but the joke quickly grew old on him, and grew older even quicker on his patients.\n\nAs James began to open his mouth, Randal emitted a sound. It wasn't anything that a human could make, at least not that the doctor had heard before. He looked, concerned, at the parents.\n\nThey both peeked quickly at the child. James shrugged. \n\n\"I'm sorry, has he done that before?\" Helvetti questioned.\n\n\"Yeah, ever since we got down here. Doctor told us it's no big deal. Anyway. I would say Randal was about two when I first had thoughts of taking him out of the world. Our oldest, Chet, is 17 and he's a fine boy, but with all of the terrible things happening in the world I wasn't sure if I wanted little Randal to experience it. \" James took a breath.\n\nPretty standard stuff so far, thought the doctor. \n\n\"I wanted to wait, though. I couldn't bring myself to take a life, especially one so young. But as the boy grew older, I didn't feel the same connection as I did with Chet, as big of a pain in the ass as he is. I suspected my wife of cheating. I asked her about it-\"\n\n\"And I said that I HADNT! Why did you have to go all spy detective on me?\" James was interrupted by an outburst from Hanah.\n\nThe doctor held up a hand. \" I'm sorry, so you're telling me....this \" as he pointed to the piece of the child positioned on James' knee' \" is a child of adultery?\" \n\n\"Unfortunately for me, yes. \" said James. \" When I found out I was furious. I sprinted upstairs into Randal's room and looked for a weapon. Since he was still a young boy, there were not many hard, or even sharp objects in his room, so I grabbed a puzzle piece\". \n\n\"I'm sorry, come again?\" Said the doctor.\n\"You heard right. A puzzle piece. It wasn't a normal sized one, he was barely 4 at this point. No it was one of those big ones of a farm that's 5'x5' but it's only 20 pieces so the kids can do it. I grabbed a corner piece from the puzzle and stabbed Randal in the eye with it. I had been trying to make it look like an accident for days, poisoning his applesauce, trying to push him off the deck, but nothing was working.\" \n\nHelvetti turned to Hanah \"and how did you react to this?\"\n\n\"Well I went for the shotgun. It's kept in the master closet. James usually uses it for skeet shooting with his buddies\" \n\"Yeah, usually, you idiot\" James spat at Hanah.\n\n\"Anyway, \" she said as she ignored James \" I grabbed the first shell I could find and ran to Randals room. I fired as soon as I saw him holding the child with the puzzle piece in his eye\" \n\n\"What she didn't know is, she hadn't grabbed buckshot. She had grabbed a slug\" said James.\n\nHelvetti nodded. He had done plenty of hunting in northern Scandinavia. Buckshot is comprised of a grouping of smaller, round pellets. A slug is one, bullet-shaped mass about the length of ones pinkie finger, and about 2/3\" in diameter.\n\n\"And I caught Randal right in his midriff. That's why he's so deformed and in a bunch of pieces\" Hanah said, as she made a gun with her hand, and pretended to hit an imaginary target.\n\n\"Wait I'm confused. So you wanted to murder your illegitimate son as well? \" Helvetti asked.\n\n\"Well yeah, my goal was to get this idiot \" Hanah said as she pointed to James \" shot but stay out of jail. I had already called Randals real father, and he walked in the door at about the same time I shot the kid. I handed the shot gun to James, and started to cry just as he walked in the room\"\n\nJames took over from here. \" knowing what was going to happen next, I shot at Rick, Rick's Randals father. Thankfully Hanah had loaded two shells into the gun. I took a good chunk from his arm, but he still managed to mow me down. He's a damn good shot. We probably would've been range buddies. After that, Rick couldn't deal with what he had just done, so he shot himself. \"\n The doctor interjected \" Wait so why isn't he here? Shouldn't he be in Hell too?\"\n\n\"Nah he had a get out of jail free card, like in monopoly. Apparently that's legal tender down here. You gotta talk to him about that \" said Hanah. \n\n\"Sure I'll get right on that.\" Helvetti said sarcastically. \n\"What I don't get is how are you here?\" He said as he pointed to Hanah. \" did you off yourself too?\"\n\n\"No actually that's the only part that doesn't make any sense. I -\"\n\nThere was a sudden knock on the door. \n\n\"Come in\" said the doctor.\n\nIn walked a young man of about 20. He was wearing a collared shirt, but the sleeves were rolled up to expose his sleeve tattoos. Both James and Hanah gasped.\n\n\"Chet!?\" They exclaimed in unison.\n\n\"Yeah. Hey guys. When I came home that day I saw Rick shoot dad and then himself. I figured mom had put him up to it, so I grabbed a shovel from the garage. While you were crying over those two losers, I smacked you in the head\" said Chet.\n\nHelvetti rubbed his temple and groaned. \n\n\"What the hell guys?! Chet how did YOU get down here? What killed you?\" Said Helvetti.\n\n\"To be honest, I'm not sure. I got hungry after I whacked mom with the shovel. Grabbed some leftover applesauce. Next thing I know, choking on my own vomit.\" \n\n",
"I sat on my stone counselling chair in the middle of a pool of bubbling lava. The husband was on the stone chair to my right with a meat cleaver jutting out of the left side of his face. And his wife, on the chair next to him, remained completely unscathed. Her chair sunk a little further into the lava. I sighed. \"Unless you want to melt to death - again - you should consider the truth.\"\n\nShe mulled it over and for a half second her green eyes became watery and her jaw went weak. One look at her husband later and the fury of hell returned. \"I'll take a lava bath a thousand times before helping this bastard.\" She jabbed her finger at his face. \n\n\"Babe, please,\" he whimpered. And then together we watched as she went down screaming into the molten rock. The liquid sizzled and a horrible stench followed. I plugged my nose and forced back the urge to gag. Her chair rose from the lava once again and as black bits of charred skin drifted off she was born anew. \n\n\"Are you ready now?\" I asked. \n\nShe took one look at me and then her husband and said, \"Bite me.\" \n\nI groaned. Her husband started crying. And the chair took her under again. ",
"“So,” says Jason, “Then she killed our children, and got in a chariot, and rode off with their bodies in the back seat.” \n\n\n“And how did that make you feel?\" I ask, nodding encouragingly, fixing him with a look of mingled sympathy and sternness. \n\n\n“Offended,” says Jason, “She obviously killed my sons as an insult to my legacy; children are a form of immortality. She did it to spite me.” \n\n\n“Thank you for sharing your feelings, Jason,” I say, “Medea, what do you have to say?” \n\n\n“That’s *exactly* why I did it,” says Medea, “Exactly. Why. I. Did. It. And he deserved it for dumping me, after everything I’ve done for him.” \n\n\n“Why don’t you elaborate on these feelings,” I say, steepling my fingers, pointing them at her, channeling positivity, progress, and puppies. Then, I take those puppies and I go a step further, putting them in the laps of Japanese schoolgirls, who giggle and sign “Peace!” while rose-petals rain down. I let the puppies and schoolgirls frolic in my office for a few seconds, before making them disappear. It’s all about diffusing tension. \n\n\n“I helped him steal my father’s Golden Fleece,” says Medea, “I did all the work for him. Then, to help him escape, I got on his ship with him, and killed my brother, and hacked him to pieces, and threw those pieces overboard so my father would have to stop to retrieve them, so that we could get away. Do you have *any* idea how *hard* that was for me?” \n\n\nMedea is crying now, great, heaving, ugly sobs, mascara running, smearing across her temples and cheeks when she wipes her eyes messily with the back of her hand. \n\n\n“Nobody *made* you do it,” says Jason, glaring at her, lips curled, snarling, “Nobody *forced* you. I could have done it without you.” \n\n\n“Please,’ says Medea, sniffing furiously, swinging back to anger, “You died when a plank fell off your ship and hit you on the head. That’s how far you got without me.” \n\n\n“You just like killing people,” screeches Jason, “You get off on it. You set my girlfriend on fire!” \n\n\n“Yes,” Medea screams back, “I set your little whore on fire because we were still married and you were cheating, cheating, *cheating*!” \n\n\n“Please.” I say, and I don’t shout. I merely stand, and look at them both with authority and disappointment. I ooze professional disapproval, plant my feet like oak trees in the subterranean, shag-pile carpets of Hell, spread my arms like some pre-historic giant bat, and slowly, shake my head.\n\n\n\n\nIt always works. They stop, fall silent, and stare at the ground. \n\n\n“I want you two to hold hands, and look into each other’s eyes, and tell each other how you feel.” \n\n\nAnd they turn and reach for each other’s hands with limp, rubbery unwillingness, like two dead fish kissing, but once their hands touch, their knuckles go white, and they are gripping each other's hands so hard that their nails are digging in and making slits in the skin that are almost as bloody as the looks in their eyes. \n\n\n“You overbearing, clinging, spiteful bitch of a witch,” says Jason, “I hate you.”\n\n\n“You two timing, ungrateful, hypocritical cheating prick,” says Medea, “If you weren’t dead, I would kill you.” \n\n\n“Thank you,” I say, “That’s progress, you're using words instead of concealed weapons. Now, we’ve got a double session today - group therapy next.” \n\n\nI sit back down and hit the extension for reception.\n\n\n“Janet,” I say, “Could you send in Agamemnon and Clytemnestra?” ",
"Dr. Lovestein let out a deep sigh. “Okay. How about we take this from the top one more time and try to figure out what’s going on.”\n\nAcross from Lovestein’s desk sat two newly christened demons; a husband and wife, both newly deceased. They wore the official Hell Corp uniform, black pants and a black polo, with a dark red Hell logo above their right breast.\n\n“Listen, I think this is a bunch of bull crap. Why do we have to go through marriage counseling again.” Complained the husband, Lance.\n\n“For once I agree with this asshole. We’re in Hell, who gives a shit if we hate each other.” The wife, Suzy, chimed in.\n\n“Okay, yes, yes. You *are* in Hell, but that doesn’t mean you can just go sowing chaos and anarchy willy nilly.” Dr. Lovestein replied. “You’ve been directed to me by human resources because several fights and riots have broken out in the main office because of you two. We can’t have that, okay. Hell can’t function if all of its demons are busy bickering and fighting rather than tricking mortals into giving us their souls, okay?”\n\nDr. Lovestein’s words were met by silence and a pair of defiant stares. He let out another sigh. Why did HR always have to send him the craziest cases. Lovestein glanced at the clock, and was met with further dismay. It looked like he was going to be late to dinner again.\n\n“Listen, I want don’t want to be here anymore than you two, but I got assigned as one of Hell’s counselors. I don’t even have any experience being a counselor, I was a damn janitor back in my mortal days; personally I think Satan just thought it would be funny because of my last name. Now, how about we just go over how you two died again, and then pick up from there tomorrow. Sound good?”\n\nLance groaned. “Fine … fine. Let’s just get this over with so we can both go home and get drunk, does that sound good to you dear.” Lance said to Suzy, a cruel sneer on his face.\n\n“Yeah yeah yeah, that sounds great to me babe. Maybe I’ll get drunk enough and pass out tonight before you start snoring up a storm again!” Suzy retorted. Her words were laced with venom and spite.\n\n“Oh, oh so it’s *my* fault that I snore, is it? I offered to sleep on the couch last night, but then you started complaining about how I didn’t love you anymore. There’s no winning with you!”\n\n“Oh don’t put this on me. I’m not the one wasting our money on poker nights and disappearing to go the the bar on Friday and Saturday for hours on end!”\n
“Guys, guys, come on now.” Dr. Lovestein interjected. “Lets just cooperate, please.”\n\nLance and Suzy looked at Lovestein. They both crossed their arms in agreement and gave a curt nod. Dr. Lovestein couldn’t help but think that in some weird way, these two were perfect for each other. They were so toxic, he was sure that they wouldn’t be compatible with any sane person.\n\n“Okay. So as I gather it, you two died when you were at the amusement park, correct?” Dr. Lovestein said.\n\n“Yes.” Suzy replied, rolling her eyes. “We were at the amusement park, and this prick wouldn’t shut up about the damn football game that was going to be on later that night.”\n\nLance balked. “Yeah, so what if I was excited. If you’d told me to shut up, I would have. You didn’t have to fucking jump off the top of the ferris wheel to prove a point about how boring I was!”\n\n“Yeah, well you didn’t have to fucking jump off after me to prove your love for me! If you’d just kept your boring little ass on that seat, everything would be fine. I would be happy in Hell, single and ready to mingle, and you would be back on Earth being a boring prick.” Suzy snarled back.\n\n“I didn’t jump off to prove my love. I jumped because the cops were obviously going to think I pushed you. I’d rather have just died then, instead of having to go through the legal process before getting locked up for life.”
\n“Yeah, whatever. You’re just too much of chicken shit to admit that you actually love me.”\n\nDr. Lovestein waved his hands in the air, interrupting the bickering couple.\n\n“Good, good. That’s something.” The doctor turned to Lance. “Lance, this is a safe place. It’s okay to admit that you love Suzy. She’s a wonderful woman, and it’s fine. I think that you two need to be more honest about your feelings.”\n\nBoth Lance and Suzy balked at Dr. Lovestein’s words. They both started shouting at the poor doctor.\n\n“I don’t love her. Screw that, I don’t need a safe place. And what’re you doing, call her a wonderful woman. You hitting on her? You hitting on her right in front of me?” Lance asked.\n\n“Yeah, going around talking like you know shit. You don’t know how he feels, you don’t know how I feel. This is *my man* after all.” Suzy chimed in.\n\n“Your man? I ain’t your man!” Lance said, turning to Suzy.\n\n“You ain’t my man? The hell you ain’t!” Suzy replied.\n\nLovestein watched in awe as the two turned against each other once again. In simple surrender, he threw his hands up in the air and got up from his desk. The arguing couple barely noticed the door click close as Dr. Lovestein headed home to his lovely wife and kids.\n\nLovestein shook his head. He just couldn’t believe it. He wondered if this was his punishment for talking trash about Satan in the break room a couple of years ago.\n\n--------------------------\n\nHope you liked it. I've got other stuff over at r/ThadsMind if you're interested."
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[WP] You can no longer tell if you are awake or dreaming.
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"I have a method worked out. When this all started a few months ago, I was confused. Disoriented. How many times did I do stupid things, thinking I was asleep? How many times did I do something in a dream and neglect to confirm it the next day? I ruined friendships, lost jobs, neglected responsibilities, hurt people... Too many things to count. \n\nSlowly, however, I started to notice. An event that happened in a dream might be different in reality the next day or vice versa. It really hit me when I dreamt my dad died. I called my parents house, still crying, and heard my dad speaking over the phone. \n\nI started to do small things, things I would notice. I ate the last chocolate bar, but there it was in the cupboard the next day. I opened the basement door, but I found it shut tight in the evening. I swept up the mud I'd tracked in the kitchen, but it was still dirty later. Little things with no consequence. Sometimes, an action outside a dream, sometimes within. \n\nAs long as I stick to my method, I can live pretty well. I keep up with my work, I have good relationships, and I don't ignore important things I have to do. \n\nOf course, that doesn't mean I don't still get confused. For example, did I really kill that squatter who was in my house last night? I'd been down in the basement when I found him. Maybe I just thought it was a dream. He must've been there for awhile. There was a small bed made, and candy wrappers in the trash. I found a few sets of clothes and some muddy boots. \n\nI'm so confused. I do recall, however, having a dream about a roommate awhile back...",
"3:28 a.m.\n\nI wake up every morning at the same time. My circadian rhythm must be all messed up. I lay there staring at the ceiling fan in my bedroom as the walls seem to slowly grow.\n\nHigher and higher the ceiling fan goes. Suddenly, I feel like I am in a deep pit and this sensation of fear rushes through me. I'm not alone.\n\nI jump up into a seated position and call out into the darkness, \"Is someone there?\"\n\n\"Only me. Only friend.\" A eery voice replied, \"Not to worry child, all is right with the world.\" \n\nI was frightened but strangely calmed and reassure by the voice. I scouted my room to find the source but saw nothing until I looked up towards the ceiling fan which was now at least twenty feet away.\n\nThere, in the corner of my room, stood a very tall dark figure. He had long appendages and fingers. He was hunched over with his shoulders almost above his head which was staring directly at the wall he was next to. He appeared to have a crown of sticks around his head and was wrapped in a black tunic.\n\n\"Who are you?\" I said anxiously.\n\n\"I am the dream keeper,\" said the figure. His voiced was weak and slow which made me believe he was very old. \n\nHis head slowly turned and I could see his bright yellow eyes illuminating the entire room. I felt almost blinded at first but my eyes quickly adjusted. His eyes were glowing, his skin was a dark violet hue and very wrinkled. He was older than dirt and had no teeth. I was scared.\n\n\"What do you want with me?\" I asked, \"Why are you here?\"\n\n\"The elders. They send me,\" he explained, \"They want tribute.\"\n\n\"Tribute?\" I asked, \"What does that mean?\"\n\n\"You have been chosen, child,\" he said.\n\nAll of a sudden, black hands began bursting through the walls. I jumped up and ran for the door, which flew shut. I went to grab the handle but it evaporated like sand in the wind.\n\nSmall black figures with red eyes were now climbing through my walls to get me. I had nowhere to run because now they were dozens of them surrounding me. I tried to make a run for it but they knocked me down. I feel to floor with some force and I could feel these figures forcefully keeping me down. I was kicking and screaming but was soon silenced by more dark figures. \n\nThe tall figure was standing over me just staring into my eyes. He got closer and closer to my face and then opened his mouth, extracting what I thought was my soul.\n\nI woke up gasping for air in a cold sweat.\n\n3:28 a.m.\n\nWhat the fuck just happened to me?! As I scanned my bedroom I realized things were normal again. Maybe it was sleep paralysis or something. Then I heard it.\n\n\"Very good. Very good,\" said the voice, \"your dreams make the elders happy, child. Now sleeeeeeeeepppp.\"\n\nHis voice echoed and trailed off as I fell unconscious. \n\nI woke up hours later with a migraine. In a daze, I reached for my dream journal and wrote about the events of my dream. It was like all of the others.",
"I can see you in the shadows, smiling like you used to smile. Black hair and brown eyes, full of laughter, full of life. You're wearing your blue dress - the one with the birds that I bought for you when we were twenty. You wore it at thirty, and forty, and then you put it away forever. It was too young for you, you said.\n\nThere's a flower on your wrist - a white rose corsage that I can't place at first until I remember that it was from my father's garden. You loved that garden. Do you recall sitting up, watching the stars come out? I pointed out constellations, but I never told that you that I made them up. I didn't know the plough from the bear... but I think, perhaps, you knew that already.\n\nYou wave at me, and it hurts. Am I awake? God, I don't care. If it's a dream, then it's a dream I want to dream forever.\n\nI can hear you calling. Softly, softly, and it breaks my heart. \n\nMy dear, it's not my time yet. \n\nSoon.\n\n"
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[WP] A world that has found a way to harvest energy from human blood, but must keep it as a dark secret from the public.
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"\"Marcy I think we've done it!\" George quickly reread his calculations and made sure the numbers matched up. Marcy had nodded off while they were waiting for the results and she sat straight up when she heard him yelling.\n\n\"Ok, ok, George calm down. We haven't even built the thing yet. Numbers on paper are good, but people care more about what they can see rather than some numbers on a page.\" She stretched her arms above her before standing up and looking at the page over his shoulder. She smiled as she noticed that he was bouncing with excitement.\n\nMarcy recalled this memory with a smile. It was the last time she had been happy and since then things had only gotten worse. She shook her head. \n\"No time to think about the past now. I got to keep moving.\" She thought as she glanced out the window of the empty apartment.\n\nMarcy didn't see anyone in the alleyway outside, so she climbed out of the window onto the fire escape. She descended down the steps and over the clanging of her footsteps, she heard the soft beating of propellers. She hit the ground and ran deeper into the alleyway. As the beating became louder and steadier, Marcy flew the lid of a dumpster open and jumped in it. Closing the lid ontop of her. \n\n\"The damn neighbors must have seen my wanted posters. Fine, fine, its fine. I can make it out of this.\" Marcy strapped a glove onto her hand and she grunted as it gave her a small prick on her finger. The glove began to glow, showing that it was primed and ready. She heard the clanging of footsteps, which she assumed was from the fire escape she had just left. \n\nShe found hard enough footing in the dumpster and readied herself. The footsteps descended the loud fire escape and all became silent once again. She listened, and listened and listened. But it was the light that gave her a que to jump. She flung herself onto the person who had opened the dumpster. A weapon was fired and a blinding light engulfed the ally.\n\nMarcy awoke on the shores of an island she had never seen. Her chest hurt like hell and the man who had shot her laid dead beside her. His blood siphoned to teleport Marcy and her guilty conscious away.\n\nShe was tired. Her mind was slipping and all she could think was that she was tired. Tired of running away. Tired of crying. Tired of being alone. She missed George and his quirks, smile, thoughts, laugh. She was tired of being chased by the very government she had worked for. As she began to drift off to sleep for the last time, she shed a tear as she remembered the excitement that George once had for the project that would kill him.\n\n---\n\nHope you enjoyed! If you enjoyed this one and want to see some more of my writings check out /r/lfmccabe\n\nAlso, I would love to hear some feedback, whether you liked it or hated it, as I always want to improve as a writer!\n\n"
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[WP] Every year as the holidays approach, hell experiences a huge influx of letters. Not from people who hate the holidays and wish to end their pain, these letters come from children who misspelled Santa as Satan. Satan however, has a soft spot for kids and tries his best to fulfill their wishes.
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"*Dere Satan,\n\nI wont a big ase gun thet I kin shoot.\n\nCletus*\n\nSatan folded up the letter again for the twentieth time and smiled to himself. \"God damn,\" he said, \"I live for days like these.\"\n\nHe turned around and shouted, \"are you ready?\" \n\nIn the street behind him, the ghostly gun crew stood at attention before the loaded Karl-Gerät 60cm siege mortar, aimed squarely at the city center ten miles away. Its kommandant rose an arm in salute.\n\nSatan smiled again, turned, and knocked on the suburban house door.",
"\nI’ve got a bad wrap, and I know it. I own it. I am what I am, and I’m okay with that. Despite the many fictional representations of me continuing my rebellious streak against dear old dad. Granted, we don’t have the smoothest relationship, but that's simply the nature of the beast, no pun intended. \n\nHaving a bad wrap doesn’t mean I’m all bad, though. Just because I’ve given into my sadistic tendencies to play an integral role in the cosmos, doesn’t mean I can’t pinch hit for the other side from time to time. And as Christmas rolls around each year, one of my most actively helpful times of the year begins.\n\nThat’s right, as humanity gears up for their paganized version of a birthday celebration for my least favourite family member, I gear up to be my most angelic self.\n\nOne of humanities traditions at this time, is for children, and those still young enough at heart to believe in the jolly old elf,to write letters to Santa, appealing to his better nature, and beseeching him to grant all manner of wishes from great to small. Father, in his infinite wisdom,or perhaps one of my other Siblings, in some misguided at humour,saw fit to bless the Postal Service with the ingrained methods to auto sort the letters mislabelled to Satan (an easy mixup for the young and those with dyslexia) to be sent my way.\n\nNot one to back down from a challenge, I have made it my personal mission to grant as many of those wishes as demonically possible. I pick several of my lieutenants, of mixed seniority, to help sort through the onslaught of letters and find the ones imbued with pain and anguish. or those which utterly glow with purity. the rest get reposted, to the North Pole and their originally intended recipient. \n\nI’m not above admitting that it gives me a thrill to don a mortal visage and walk amongst the youngest of Father's creations. They call it people watching, and apparently its a widespread pastime. One of my favourite places to do so, when not actively fulfilling my role in the cosmos, is the children's ward of a hospital. This is also the place where most of my personal christmas miracles are performed.\n\nNowhere else can one find a more dense cloud of both purity and anguish. It feeds both my demonic and angelic aspects. It soaks into my very pores, every breath fills my lungs and dear quenches the Hunger of both aspects. \n\nToday I’m here to grant some wishes. Some are small, straight forward. “Dear Satan, all I want for Christmas is warm hat and slippers to keep me warm now that my hair is all fallen out.” “Dear Satan. all I want for christmas is a Princess Dollie from my favourite Disney Movie.” Some are a little greater. “Dear Satan, all i want for christmas is mommy and daddy to stop fighting.” “dear satan, all i want for christmas is for my baby brother to be well enough to enjoy the season before he dies.” “Dear satan, all i want for christmas is to be able to see my family one last time, but they can't afford the trip.”\n\nThe Material items are simple enough. They simply wake up to find the package wrapped at the foot of their bed. No one questions how it got there, and no one thinks to check the security feed to see who snuck in in the dead of night. Tho that last part might also take a bit of a nudge of power.\n\nAs for the others, it costs very little to infuse a little wellness into a shrivelled body, or to place a few dollar bills in an envelope with a note which the family a happy holiday and a map highlighting a route from home to hospital. it doesn't take a genius to get the point. I always include a stamp at the bottom, of whatever their cultural representation is of satan and santa. for most it is a santa hat hanging from the tip of a trident. “From your secret satan.”\n\nAs for the argumentative parents, you’d be amazed how effective it is to simply slip the child's missive into their own mail. with a brochure for couples therapy or grief counselling, whatever the root of their bickering is. There are tears, of course, but then comes the silent hugging. \n\nAnd then i go back to my lair, hang up my human guise, and get back to torturing the wicked. and without fail, there comes a bottle of my favourite ambrosia, made from the finest angelic grapes, with a note. “Dear Satan, thank you for granting our wishes.” Wafting from the tag is the scent of the skin of every child whose hearts i've touched that season. Dad’s way of saying thanks. And it warms me to the cockles of my demonic heart. \n\n\n",
"\n\n**“I would like to meet you.”** Satan read aloud, holding the ragged piece of paper that his god-awful mailing service would consider mail. He held the crumpled letter in his clawed hand, observing it before crushing it in his palm. Once he unclasped his fingers from the base of his thumb, a thick cloud of ashen smoke spit into the air from the center of his palm. \n\nThe letter in question would be carried by the hot wind all the way to where Santa resided - a quiet cabin nestled between two towering pine trees. Santa doesn't often stay in his workshops anymore, after all. His elves deliver his messages; this is quite the handy option when the pale man decides to take another “me day” and stuff his uncomfortably jolly grin with cookies. \n\n A faint smirk cracked on Satan’s lips -- yes, he would try his best to fulfill the wishes of the children with a lack of knowledge on spelling, though this one was unusually formal for such a ripped paper. *It’s Santa’s problem now.* He quickly assumed it was the handwriting of an adult after all; those were the letters he never responded to. They were often chock full of depressed humans weeping into their letters, praying to any sort of god for escape from their internal whirlwind of pain. But Satan is not a God, you see.\n\nSatan was laying on his throne, his legs thrown over one armrest as the second dug into his back. He crafted a makeshift fireball in his left palm before tossing it to his right. He continued the action for a few minutes before a letter found its way to his lap. It was snow white and sealed with some sort of red glue, scented like peppermint and cedar. Satan had no time to open the letter before a pair of shiny obsidian shoes began to dig into his stomach. He lost hold of his fireball, causing it to fall onto the ground and disintegrate into the rocky ground. He blinked, looking up as his yellow gaze met a large blue pair of eyes. He grabbed hold of the thing that stood, looking down at him before placing it on the ground. It refused to move.\n\nAt least it has manners. \n\nSatan readjusted himself before observing the figure that stood in front of his throne. It was a child - at the oldest, it was ten years old. It appeared to be a female as pale blonde hair framed her baby-looking face. Taupe freckles dotted her flushed cheeks, though as he looked to meet her gaze, it was now empty and without emotion, but the icy blue hue still stayed. \n\nSatan was confused - what had caused Santa to send this little girl to his own domain. He narrowed his eyes, never taking them off of the girl before feeling around his chest to find the letter. Small flecks of snow and peppermint dusted his black suit and crimson fingers the moment he lifted it from the fabric. He opened it carefully - Santa was often one to send letters playing music, as did the letter Satan held between callused fingers. \n\n**“She threw a tantrum when she arrived. I refuse to deal with her on my day off.”** He read the letter, raising his irises from the letter and eyed the girl. A smile seemed to be knit on her face as she took in the sight of Satan himself in front of her. He closed the letter, throwing it to the hot ground where it fizzled and expired on impact. He parted his lips to speak, staring the little girl down as he narrowed his eyes. He was interrupted by the child.\n\n**“Oh, I’m so excited to be here!”** She squealed excitedly, physically trembling as she took in her surroundings. **“Santa's wrong. I spelled nothing wrong!”** She corrected a thought that was never planted in Satan’s head in the first place. She took a step forward and stuck out her hand. **“Molly White, I am ecstatic to finally meet you, Satan, sir! Big fan, big fan.”** \n\n\n",
"\"Oh yeah, we'zzze pretty much co-opted ze whole thing.\" \nBeelzebub's fuzzy proboscis explored his mug of cocoa, returning with a few choice marshmallows. \n\n\"Turnz out all the rampant commercial greed and bazzztardizzzation of religion leaves us with a net positive over charity drives and '*good will towards man*'. Whatever the fuck that meanzzz.\" \n\nSadi grimaced and set down her own cup. She had been too ambitious. It was impossible to consume anything in the presence of Beelzebub, even for fellow demons. His favored form looked like something out of a cheesie C-list horror movie - a man in an immaculate pinstripe suit with a bulbous fly head and a set of twitching wings. Yet still he radiated this sense of nausea, like you wanted to do nothing more but violently spew filth from both ends but couldn't. You had to keep your wits about you, or that terrible pressure would only build. \n\nAs the new intern in the Glut Cabal she had hoped to impress him and show off to the office by accepting his offer of hot chocolate. The sad thing was that she knew it would taste delicious, Beezy was the most experienced gourmet in the universe. \nThe sudden shuffling of papers snapped her back into focus. He had taken a parcel of letters out of his desk. \n\n\"But the real tie breaker are thezzze. Letterz to Thzzatan.\" \n\nShe tightened her lips. It was a little cute how hard he tried for the S in Satan. Pleasantly, this different perspective abated the sense of sickness a bit. She found she could speak with more confidence in not throwing up.\n\n\"There are kids... writing letters to Satan? You don't mean... they're misspelling Santa?\" \n\n\"Bingo. Ever zince we got Zt. Nicholazz zortened to Zanta. Zay technically count as dealz with the Devil. Contractz that Thzzatan can chooze to fulfill. It'z not like we get their zoulzz or anything, but it increazes our prezzence on the material world zignifigantly. And what'z big G gonna do? Tell uz to zztop giving toyzz to the poor children? We really zzzztuck a bee in hizzz bonnet.\" \n\nHis proboscis conspiratorially extended forward. \n\"I'll literally fire you if you tell anyone I zaid ziz but... I zink Thzzatan has a zzoft spot for ze kidzzz. We never get any down here, and the younger onezzz have no concept of empathy.\" \n\nHer interest was piqued. \n\"So, what does Gluttony do?\" \n\n\"Zome kidz azk for food. We don't zkimp. A real holiday feazt. I perzzonally fly out and devour whatever milk and cookiezzz I can beat the real Zanta to, juzt to mezz with him. Zince you're a zuccubus, I'll have you on advertizment. Zeduce people into buying that fruit cake no one eatz, zat zort of thing.\" \n\n\"Will do Sir! I'll it give my best!\" \nShe drained the cocoa in a haste to get to work before remembering. After a few seconds, she morosely looked at the mess she had left in his wastepaper basket. \n\n\"Was... that cinnamon and nutmeg Sir?\" \n\nBeelzebub looked as pleased as a guy with a giant fly head could look. \"Oh, you noticed?\" \nHer stomach flipped again as he picked up the basket and slurped up her drink. \n\"I zink you'll fit in juzt fine around here.\" ",
"Let's be clear, the old guy decided that you were all dicks because I instructed a woman to eat an apple. An apple that would gift her a greater understanding of the world. You people are going to stomp your fellow man to death today for the right to pay slightly less – but still way too much – for apples that you'll only ever use to find memes and porn. Here I wanted a chick to broaden her horizons and learn a bit about the depths of morality, and he thought that was so horrible, that he deemed it the \"original sin.\" God's a dad who caught one of his kids reading Immanuel Kant, and the other googling \"Ivanka Trump's cunt\", and he got mad at the former. But sure, he's the man, and I'm ultra-Hitler, whatever makes you feel righteous.\n\nI'm not a monster. I love chocolate, and Will Ferrell movies, and snowboarding (bet you didn't think we had that, but we do), but you stage one \"coup\" (angel morale was low, and I'm a natural leader, you cannot blame me) and now everybody thinks you're the worst guy ever. Well there's a reason kids write letters to Santa and not my former landlord. They trust their greatest wishes to a morbidly obese exploiter of elven labor because they know the man upstairs is resting on his laurels. He'll get involved if he feels like flooding the place, but he's not getting you a tricycle. That's where I come in.\n\nYou'd think spending eternity with every rock, porn, and vine star would be endlessly fulfilling, and on the first two counts you'd be right, but I'm not simply driven by pride or excess. I have a heart. Whenever I get a letter in the mail from some illiterate Arizonan 8-year old asking for a toy truck, or some other illiterate 4-year old from Adelaide who wants a pet cat, I'm reminded of the good in man. The good that I've been so frequently, and erroneously, accused of attempting to corrupt. A good that doesn't know the difference between the old man and I, or a democrat and a republican, a good that simply wishes to live a life with more joy, and I'll go to any lengths to reward these young people's wishes. Who knows how things would've turned out if pops had done the same for me.",
"It was odd, thought the Horned One, how people could somehow decide to be good for a kook in a red suit, but not for the Lord of Damnation. As he leafed the small pile of letters in front of him - letters from slightly dyslexic children asking for Christmas wishes, but accidentally addressed to \"Satan\" - he wondered if sometimes the old elf up north sometimes received misaddressed incantations and summons written in blood.\n\nAh well, Hell was sometimes such a drag lately anyways. Sure, there was misery, pain, and a raft of tortures to inflict upon deserving sinners, but sometimes it all got so very repetitive and BORING. Sometimes looking after a little misaddressed mail filled the void in his gnarled and dark heart. The irony of responding to wishes on the supposed birthday of his arch-rival was a little extra cherry on the cake.\n\nFingering one of the envelopes in the pile, he slit the seal with a long red nail.\n\n\"Well, well. Billy Smith wants a puppy for Christmas. Puppy. Puppy. Where could I find one of THOSE down here? Ah, there it is...!\"\n\nQuickly spinning around, the Lord of Hades grabbed a small furry creature that was cowering beneath his throne.\n\n\"This ought to do it!\", he exclaimed, quickly tossing the squirming little bundle into a box.\n\"Oh, better not forget the air holes! That did NOT go over well last time I forgot those for that little girl who ask for a kitten\" \nDeftly, he poked several air holes in the box with his claws, and then, with a snap of his fingers, the box disappeared with a *poof* and then reappeared under the Smith's Christmas tree.\n\nTossing that letter over his shoulder, he then quickly slit open the next envelope.\n\"Ah, Sally Jones wants a goldfish. I'm sure we can manage that!\" \nGrabbing a hellish minion by the arm, he demanded \"Get me a goldfish, and quickly! I've a little girl's Christmas wish to fill!\"\nWhile the minion scurried off, The Infernal One quickly pocked that letter for letter and opened another.\n\n\"Ah, now this is QUITE an unusual ask, and from an adult no less. Jessie Donald's wife has passed away, and the only thing he wants is to be able spend the holidays with her again. Well, that's certainly no problem for me!\"\n\nTracing a pentagram in the air, he muttered a quick incantation, and with a sudden flare of the smell of brimstone, it was done.\n\nHe was just about to reach for the next letter, when his minion returned at a run with the fish for little Sally. However, something was missing...\n\n\"No, no NO,\" he roared, \"You can't just bring the wish. Look, the poor thing is flopping an puffing. It needs water!\"\n\nGrabbing a container, he quickly scooped water from a nearby river and plopped the fish in. Luckily it wasn't quite expired, and quickly settled down happily, breathing again.\n\n\"That's a bit of luck! Looks like the little bugger will be fine after all. Well, off to Sally you go then!\"\n\nWith another gesture and a quick poof, the fish - bowl and all - disappeared.\n\n\nFeeling rather satisfied with himself, the Hellacious One returned to his room where he could watch the outcome of the recent gifting in his scrying pool.\n\nDipping a finger in, the waters swirled and then revealed the scene at Billy's house.\n\nIt seems he was not a moment too soon, as just at that very moment Billy was opening his present. Indeed, as Billy opened the lid of his present, a smile lit his face and a twinkle came to his eyes. The pool had no audio, but it was easy to see that he was quite happy with the furry bundle that scampered out of the box.\n\nBilly's parents seemed a bit confused at first - no doubt wondering whom had bought the puppy - and then slightly more concerned as the pup let loose a small drizzle which almost immediately began dissolving the corner of their coffee table. As the pup playfully danced around, their looks of concern grew even stronger after it coughed up a small fireball that nearly set their tree afire.\n\n\"Ah well\", chortled His Infernalness, \"those Hell-Hounds are a handful. But they do make excellent guard dogs and they sure are cute!\"\n\nAnother quick dip of a finger in the scrying pool, and the scene changed from Billy's panicked parents to the home of little Sally. It looks like his luck was in, as he had once again tuned in just as Sally was opening HER present.\n\nAt first Sally looked a little disappointed. He wondering if perhaps a troll skull wasn't the best bowl for her little fishy. Still, as Sally dipped her finger in the bowl to tickle the fish, all the worries seemed to fade from her face. In fact, all expression faded completely. \n\n\"Well, well.\", he laughed heartily, \"I guess I forgot about the effects the waters of Lethe have on mortals. Still, that should keep her worry-free for quite some time. Hopefully she'll still remember to feed the fish!\"\n\nAnother twirl of the finger, and the scene at Sally's house faded. Next came poor lonely Jessie. Surprisingly, the scene at Jessie's was not a home filled with tinsel and trees, but rather a wreath laid lovingly upon a simple carved headstone.\n\n\"Of course of course. He would want to be where he believes he is closest to his beloved wife. \", remarked the Devil, \"But... where IS she?\"\n\nIndeed, he couldn't see the wife anyway. Had he perhaps mis-cast the spell? Then, just as Jessie appeared to be about to leave, there was a tremble in the ground.\n\n\"Ah, he she comes. I must learn more patience\" Beezelbub muttered to himself.\n\nSure enough, as Jessie looked down, a clawed hand burst from the ground and wrapped around his leg. As Jessie gave a silent shout (the pool still had no audio, it really did need an upgrade.... perhaps THX) another hand burst, the ground churned, and he was dragged below.\n\nStaring upward, The Dark Prince watched as the stone ceiling of his abode began to shake and shudder. Of course while Jessie loved his wife unconditionally, she hadn't exactly been the good and faithful type. \n\nThe Pestilent One smiled and clapped his hands together in glee. \"Well, that worked out just smashingly. It looks like all three of us can spend Christmas together this season!\" \n\nPutting on his best smile, he prepared to meet his guests. Hopefully the imps won't burn the roast again this year!",
"I finished pulling out the masses of letters from my mailbox, threw them in the huge pile that was far too large to have fit, and shut the metal container at the end of my brimstone driveway. How did all those letters fit, you wonder? Magic, honestly. Demon magic. Occupational perk, you could say. (Okay, okay, so I may have misled David Blaine on his path through life in order to receive him in hell so he could set up cool shit like a bottomless mailbox. What's the big deal? It's not like it's not the most intense shit he's ever done. Should be thanking me, honestly.)\n\n\"Sheesh!\" I remarked. (\"I\" being me, Satan, the universe's official Torturer of Souls.) \"These kids sure aren't shy about asking for what they're after!\"\nBut I said it with a grin; I loved the holidays. It was the only time I ever felt loved. All these kids, writing letters to Santa, but getting a couple letters wrong. It was great! \n\nWell, since a few years ago, I'd never let a kid down. Used to just burn the letters in my Fireplace of Darkness. (Yeah, yeah, clearly not the most logical name. I was going through an angsty phase, so sue me. I didn't even need any extra heat, I was just doing it out of spite. Hell does weird things to your mind, man.)\n\nAnyway, the story of poor little Johnny Fredricks was enough to melt the toughest of hearts. Most of the letters were just little Suzy asking for a new doll, or little Peter asking for a Red Rocket BB gun, but Johnny was different. This kid was writing to ask Santa to make him grow faster, so he would be big enough to give his mama his \"kid-knee\"! He didn't understand that when the doctor told him his kidneys were incompatible, it wasn't because he was young and his knees were too small. \n\nBut what really got me was the second-to-last sentence: \"I hope you can help me Santa, because God has not been listening.\" Man, that really struck home. I felt like me and this kid, the young master Fredricks, really understood each other. He *knew* what it felt like to never have your prayers answered, to be struck down, reduced to begging an imaginary being for help. We were the same! \n\nThey should make a movie about that night called \"The Red Grinch\", starring *moi*. I always figured I'd be a great actor. Crying on command? Pfft, cakewalk. All I'd need to think about would be Johnny Fredricks opening the presents I got him from under the Christmas tree.\n\nI'd never seen a kid so disappointed to wake up Christmas morning and find he still had functioning, proportional knees. Still, he loved that remote control truck and his new bike. His tears really choked me up. And his parents crying together in their bedroom afterwards, because they were dead broke and had no idea where the presents came from. Ah, man. Nearly enough to melt the devil's heart. Oh wait, it was.\n\nSo Johnny loved his gifts, but he was disappointed that mommy hadn't gotten some knew knees. \"Come on, Johnny!\" I'd wanted to say as I'd watched the story unfold. \"Have a little faith in Uncle Satan.\"\n\nLater that day Johnny went with his mom for her biweekly checkup on her renal failure. What? Who said anything about that? Boom, perfect kidneys, courtesy of Mr. D the devil (and, of course, of the poor soul I'd accosted in the brimstone factory and liberated of his kidneys. Hey, the guy was dead! Not like *he* was going to be needing them again. You just get resurrected in hell anyway, so it was no biggie.)\n\nSo mama Fredricks had miraculously received some good ol kidneys now and young Johnny had all the toys he could ask for, *and* a healthy mom! Mission accomplished, I'd say. \n\nAfter that day, I answered ever letter and fulfilled all those kid's wishes. Couldn't help it, I just felt compelled from the inside. There was just one catch, really. A limit set by the big man upstairs, which I couldn't avoid: for colluding with and gaining benefit from the devil, a soul had to be punished...*severely*.\n\nI'm honestly proud of my solution. You think I was going to let those asshole corporate lawyers from heaven (yeah, don't ask me how they got in there either) use a loophole which identified a signed letter as a binding contract between me and some poor kid? No way José! (Speaking of José, I love his restaurant down here in Little Mexico. If you're ever down in Hell, look up the Tortured Tortuga. **Best** hot sauce **EVER!**)\n\nBack to the point: I had to figure out a way to get around God's stupid rule. Well, consulting my *own* team of very skilled, never-leaving-Hell lawyers, I realized something as inconsequential as a painful sneeze could count as a punishment. That's when I really got down to business. That Lego your kid stepped on? Sorry, had to do it so you could keep him enrolled at that great private school. Your daughter stubbed her toe? My bad, didn't want you to lose that new comfy car seat though. Kid got a papercut? I must have been feeling particularly malicious, but the essence is the same.\n\nEvery year, I do great things for countless kids, and these two idiots, God and Santa, are given all the credit! Man, that's infuriating. Makes me wanna go stab some fire imps! Still, could be worse. I might have never been able to help all those people. I just hope that one day, I'll get the credit I truly deserve. \n\nSigning off now, Satan, Universe's official Torturer of Souls. Merry Christmas.",
" Dear Satan, I have been a very good girl this year, and for crismas I want a ipad like sara has.\n Love, Julie <3\n\nThese were always so cute. Every year, he'd get these, and he always tried to make them come true. It used to be harder, but since these days most of them wanted name brand electronics, all Lucifer ever had to do was set up a few robberies via possessed vagrants and arrange the loot to be delivered.\n\n Satan, for christmas this year I want a lego star destroyer!\n\nHeh, this one was easier than most. Disney's execs all had signed deals with him decades ago, so he could get this one done in one phone call. He'd throw in a Millennium Falcon and one of the new Rogue One sets too.\n\n Deer Satan, this year I dont want any presents I just want my mom and dad to love each other again. \n I promise to always be a good boy forever if you make them stop fighting.\n from Daniel.\n\nThese were the ones that always broke his heart. Most of the time there was just nothing he could do; he got tragedy-based letters every year, but there was only so much influence he could exert on Earth. He always at least checked to see if it was something he could handle, though, and after a quick bit of scrying, Daniel's parents had apparently been drifting apart due to stress from stretching the budget too thin and dissatisfaction in the bedroom. \n\nThis was great! Complexities of the human condition, emotional absence, fundamental incompatibility, these were all out of Lucifer's scope, but money and sex? Daniel's letter was in the right place. First, he took a quick look through their browsing histories and placed a couple orders an online sex shop. He shook his head; if humans would just be less uptight about what they got off on, Earth would be a lot more laid back. Next, he sent over two doses of a demonic aphrodisiac that had been known to get a celibate monk into an orgy. Lastly, he purchased a well-chosen lottery ticket, and set it all up to arrive on Christmas Eve. He also enclosed a special note just for Daniel:\n\n Dear Daniel,\n The gifts for your parents should make them stop fighting and love each other like you asked.\n You don't have to keep your promise to be a good boy forever, though. Bad boys have a lot more fun.\n --Satan"
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[WP] Everyone has numbers over their heads. Everyone can see them. It's become a fact of life. But nobody knows what they mean. That's because they only mean something to the aliens that are looking down on us.
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"They started appearing 20 years ago.\nNo one knows where they came from or what they mean. The numbers just one day started floating above our heads. \n\nMost are around 1-5, however I've seen some that have even been around 20. We have gotten used to them, but we don't know what they mean and it has been bugging humanity for awhile. \n\nMy number is 10, so I am above the average standard. \nI am a 22 year old Caucasian male, who is pretty fit as I played college football. I don't know how that figures into my number though. \n\nThere were several power surges and last night I swear I saw a streak of light coming straight towards us. I don't know what this means or what it COULD mean, all I know is that 20 years ago a huge bomb exploded at a giant gathering of people. Apparently the bomb obliterated the city and cities around that city, and ever since then these numbers have shown up. Wait, I will be right back something just happened outside, I hear a racket.\n\nI am back, it seems that something crash landed in the city, I am going to go and check it out, I'll bring my phone with me to continue typing.\n\nIt looks like it's two meteorites, very oddly shaped, almost perfect spheres. A large crowd has gathered so far an- what the hell? Something just exploded within it. There's a ton of dust, what the he'll is this. I'm going to turn on my voice memos.\n\n*inaudible noise*\n*giant wind gushing*\n*ppa wh...-- vel*\n*mos--- one ten*\n*adi-z lo-t to them?*\n*[clear voice] lets give them a greeting vegeta *\n*huge noise*\n-audio cuts out-\n"
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[WP] You've just be "beamed" (teleported) aboard an alien spacecraft, and they can't teleport you back home.
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"\"Did you try unplugging and plugging it back in?\" I asked strapped to the table.\n\n\"We did that and it's not working...\" said the large alien with sterilization gloves.\n\n\"Well... can you untie me?\" I smiled and raised an eyebrow.\n\n\"I mean... we could, but it doesn't usually take us this long to return a specimen...\" \n\n\"Oh just let him off\" the other one chimed in \"the tech team really has been dropping the ball recently\" the alien confided to me. \n\nAs i got up in the large pristine room, i saw an unoccupied monitor with strange symbols. \"So how long have you two been... umm here?\"\n\n\"Well we have been in this system for two years now i thin-\"\n\n\"One year and 244 days\" the one washing its appendages said. \"When you're stuck with this creep you know.\" \n\n\"Hey! I'm not that bad!\" The other pouted. \"You adopt one custom of this planet, and you are labeled a creep\"\n\nA strange beep goes through the ship\n\n\"This is the tech team, the particle beam is gonna take a week to repair. Over\"\n\n\"Well thats great what are we gonna do now\" the alien sighs looking at me.\n\n\"Monopoly?\" I ask as the other alien smiles creepily with its many mouths. That was day one of my stay with some of the chilliest intergalactic beings i have met. "
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[WP] In a parallel universe, Daredevil's not blind. He's deaf.
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"Matt wakes up to the pulsing of his phone alarm. He opens his eyes and looks at his phone, while simultaneously looking at the reflection in his phone, where he can see the reflection of a masked man in his eye. \n\nHe throws the phone hitting the intruder in the jugular. He spots an unfamiliar glare on the ceiling coming through the window from a cat parked below. The glare is coming from the shiny car emblem. Mercedes. Red.\n\nThe intruder falls back, clutching his throat. Matt opens the window, grabs the intruder by the hair and throws him out to smash the hood of the red mercedes. He sees the car speed off, the mans limp body staying on the smashed hood as it speeds away. \n\nHe takes note of the license plate number.\n\nHe feels a familiar vibration behind his ear. Someone knocking on the door....\n"
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[WP] You work for a hospital. Your job is to document the day of death that appears on each child when they're born. However, you are starting to become worried. For the last few weeks now, every child is born with the same death-day.
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" A tiny shadow cast itself over my desk littered with paper. \"Yes, Nurse?\" I asked irritatedly as I resumed entering the previous week's data. I sighed exasperatedly, and spun the chair around towards where a nurse undoubtedly stood. I looked her over, her pale face framed by fiery red hair that normally had a personality to match it. Her blue eyes frantically looking me over for answers to a question I hadn't been asked. \"Nancy? Can I help you?\" She opened her mouth, and nothing came out. She closed it and handed me the papers. \"Dr. Roberts... Could you look this over?\" I stared at her for a second, and glanced at the paper. \"Nancy, what's the big deal?\" I ran a hand through my hair, waiting for some sort of explanation. \"Read the rest of them.\" She said. Watching me waiting for a reaction. I sighed, and placed the first paper on the desk. I began to read the second. \"Hm. Weird. This isn't unheard of though.\" I responded calmly. I smiled faintly, \"There's no reason to be alarmed.\" She shook her head and walked off. \n\nI shrugged, spun back around and resumed entering the data. \"Dr. Roberts?\" I turned back around. An annoyed look crossed my face. There she stood again. A stack at least two feet tall of papers in her arms. \"These too.\" I sighed, \"Okay, Nancy. Clearly this IS your first rodeo. That's what? 30? This isn't really terrible. That's like, a class worth? That's bad, sure. Tragic even. But there isn't THAT bad.\" She stared at me, clearly waiting for me to finish. \"Doctor. This isn't just a class of students, this is every single baby being born. Not just one, not ten, not twenty. We have 50 children with the same day. And any with a different day is before that event. This is not my first rodeo, but this is certainly the most extensive one I have ever seen.\" I looked at her. \"I'll make the calls.\" She sighed, \"I hope it's just us, I really do Dr. Roberts.\" She turned to walk away. \"Me too, Nancy. Me too.\" I responded.\n\n I turned back to my desk, and picked up the phone. I began to outside the hospital. \"Dr. Roberts.\" I paused. \"Yes, it's been detected by a nurse...I know sir. Yes, No. I understand. 50 of them at least...Yes sir. I understand.\" I paused listening to the other person, and grabbed the paper from the desk. \"Yes, it's Nurse Pabowski. Code 4276518. I know, my lips are sealed sir. Thank you.\" I sat back in my chair and looked at the ceiling. 'I really had hoped they wouldn't notice.' I thought to myself. 'Shame. I liked Nancy. But this just can't get out. It would be too chaotic. Oh well.' And then I went back to entering the previous week's data. DDate: 11/05/45. DDate: 11/05/45. DDate: 11/05/45...",
"Don't let it be true, \ndon't let it be real. \nThere's nothing to do \ndoesn't matter how I feel. \n\n\nSomething awful's coming \nfor this new generation. \nIs it a bombing? \nOr perhaps a DNA mutation? \n\n\nThe time of death, \nthe final curtain call. \nThe last breath \nis the same for them all. \n\n\nI'm just a nurse. \nI will pass the knowledge \nof this curse. \nThey will die in college. \n\n\nAnd while it's twenty years \nit's not that far away. \nI wipe my tears. \nMy expiration day's today. \n\n\nThis has put me in a terrible mood. \nI wish my last day here had been good. \nI shouldn't know my date \nbut it's not that hard. \nYou just ask a mate, \nit's a perk of the job.\n\nI glimpse through the window, \ncatch the last rays of the sun. \nTime slows down \nas I fire my gun. "
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[WP] He was turning you into a monster. To your horror, you rather liked it.
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"My head hurt. Everything else about my surroundings may as well have been familiar, because my head was pounding. I got up and rubbed the sleep out of my eyes. \n\nI was unsure of how I was supposed to feel. Looking down at my hands, seeing my reflection in the mirror at the other end of the room... I looked so unfamiliar to myself. I could tell that I was still there, but it wasn't the same. I shook my head. Nothing was the same.\n\nI wondered if he had done something to me, or whether this was always a part of me. It had to be his fault. It had to be. I was becoming something else, and I didn't like it. I liked what I had been before, and now I was becoming this... This monster. I kept looking back down at my hands, as though I expected them to look normal again.\n\nDim, distant light crept through the tiny cracks between the curtains, splashing light onto scattered items where they lay.\n\nI wanted to hate myself for letting it happen. I did hate myself. I wanted to go back, to undo what he had done. But I couldn't. Everything I saw in that reflection was ugly, wrong. How was I supposed to go back to a normal life?\n\nI had to escape quietly, to avoid him catching me.\n\nOnce outside, I couldn't help but notice how normal life continued to be. The sun shone through the trees, giving off that same familiar tint of the fall. The wind swept across the ground, carrying with it a host of leaves colored all sorts of yellows and reds. \n\nIt wasn't just today. It was. It wasn't. Maybe it was okay. I don't know. A tug of war broke out in my brain.\n\nMaybe it's okay.\n\nThat thought lingered in my mind as I took in my surroundings.\n\nI walked aimlessly, breathing in the morning's fresh air. People were crossing streets, carrying their things about and using their phones and living their regular lives. Like they always did. \n\nIt's okay. It's more than okay, it's me. I can't hate it any longer if it's who I am.\n\nThe cars passed by on the street like they always did. The birds chirped and tweeted between the trees, like they always did.\n\nThey always did. I always was. I just didn't understand before.\n\nYesterday I would have called myself a monster. Today I was just myself.\n\nThe phone rang for an eternity. Finally, a familiar voice picked up.\n\n\"Dad, I have to tell you something.\"\n\n\"What is it, son?\"\n\n\"I'm gay.\""
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[WP]In this glorious tale of adventurer you are neither hero or villain, you are a simple watchman at his post.
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"\"Greetings, friend. Riverwood is the safest city west of the Glen.\"\n\nIt was my standard greeting. I uttered it to every adventurer that wandered into the little township I guarded. \n\nI've had this position for about 3 years now. Not much usually happened, except for when a particular person visited.\n\nThis person seemed to be the focus of this entire world. She was strong, intelligent, and always knew just what to say--even after stealing a whole barrel of sweetrolls! She was just so charming, I let her off every time. Over the 40-50 visits Mortanna (that was her name) paid to the city, I had grown quite fond of her. She had stunning features in her eyes and face. I felt an urge to constantly watch her.\n\nI grew so fond of her that I began telling her little segments of my life's story as she ran by me on the way to the blacksmith to sell the vast quantities of weapons she had. \n\nI started out with the simple quips, \"I used to adventure too, but then... I settled down with my cat here in Riverwood.\" but in time, it escalated to longer tales such as, \"I was there when the Grand King was killed by the Windcloak traitor. A sad day for all of Air's Edge.\"\n\nAs I was still a guard, I did have to constantly remind her to sheathe her blades and put out the fire she had going in her hands, but I don't think our relationship suffered because of it. I knew deep down she cared about me more than the other guards.\n\n . . . . .\n\nOne day, vampires attacked Riverwood. It was chaotic to say the least. I found myself fighting against the hive's leader. He was a fierce opponent, and I couldn't best him. After just two of his dagger's attacks, I was kneeling at his mercy. Suddenly, out of nowhere, Mortanna flew past me and decapitated my foe. \n\nShe looked so lovely in that moment--her eyes on fire, the demon blade she carried dripping with the fresh kill, and the way she ran her sword through the other damned creatures.\n\nBut alas! As she swung her mighty blade at the last of the attackers, she managed to scratch Rufus on the arm! Now, I didn't much like the man (he was a boring man and only spoke the same complaint of \"I'd be a lot happier with a warm bed, and a belly full of ale\"), but my loyalties laid with the city. I must protect my brother in arms. \n\nWe all turned against her immediately. \n\nIn a moment, she pulled out a vial and drank of it. She was invisible! I could hardly believe my eyes at what I didn't see! I briefly saw the gates creak open, and I was sure she had escaped our well-trained militia.\n\n . . . . .\n\nA few days later, I saw someone who looked familiar. I walked up and said, \"Wait, I know you.\"\n\nShe told me I was making a mistake.\n\nAs soon as she spoke, though, I knew who it was. I shouted, \"I know who you are, you attacked Rufus and it's time to pay for your crime!\"\n\nShe responded with an incredibly persuasive comment about me being too busy, and I figured she was right. Who else is going to make sure no one steals the flowers outside of the king's palace? I let her go quickly.\n\nSomeday, I just hope she will clear her name so that we can have the life I always dreamed. One where I can go about my guard duties, she can share her spoils from killing all those zombies, and she can also help me with this bum knee I've got. \n\nYeah, that'll be the life..."
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[WP] Write a story with as many unanswerable plot holes as you can possibly fit
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"First there was Becky. Her hole was tight. Well, holes. Aunt Jemima was next. I filled her with holes and dumped her juices all over Becky. Becky was just a pile of skin by then. Next was Sasha. She was easy because I was just able to sew her into the structure. You know know how it is. I dug holes for Kat and Nikki, and Juwana needed some assistance (heavy lifting). Ha, I tease. She was easily choppable. Anyway, those three became the arms and a leg. Carla was the nose. I cut two holes for the eyes and then jumped inside. My dad was asleep in the next room with my mom. I wanted these holes to be just like hers. I wanted this one to be special. So I made more holes and added Sharen. She became sort of like a \"tail\" thing. It's majestic. And the sex is great.",
"\"It's the 23rd September 1923, Happy 30th birthday\" says Watson.\n\nThe third floor room was empty except for Sherlock, Watson and two dead bodies.\n\n\"Thanks, What can you deduce?\" Asks a clean shaven, pale skinned Sherlock.\n\n\"Well there's a skeleton and a fresh body, so it's fair to say the skeleton died first\" said Watson looking at the bare Skelton and the old black man, with a stab wound in his chest.\n\n\"Well the skeleton is clearly the missing Skelton of Jack, see that jaw line, very distinctive.\" Says Sherlock. He then reaches into a pocket of the trousers of the black guy and pulls out a birth certificate.\n\n\"John, born on the 30th day of the second month, 1844, making him 80.\" Says Sherlock, twirling his moustache.\n\n\"I see\" replies Watson.\n\n\"You are missing three key pieces of information. Jack strangled John, and John is my identical twin brother\" explains Sherlock.\n\n\"I see, case solved\" replies Watson.\n\n\"Indeed\" says Sherlock. He walks over to the bomb and cuts the blue wire.\n\nWatson opens the door, and they both walk out triumphantly onto a busy London Street.",
"It's not easy, living at the bottom of the Ocean. Trust me. I should know.\n\nMy name is Max Anderson. And I am the sole survivor within the Aquatic Base: Ariel III. In fact... i'm the Sole Survivor on Earth. \n\nIt has been five years since it happened. All life on Earth just... stopped. Not there, anymore. Every living quarters here has everything I remember in them. Books, clothes, pictures. But no people. Not one human. I considered the possibility it was only me, but the fish are still outside. Nothing else has changed. \n\nI turn on the lights as I do my usual rounds. It's become habit. I check every room, every day. Maybe it's just that small vestige of hope that won't go out. I'm hoping that one day someone, anyone, will be here. Sleeping, or eating, or reading. Something. But nothing. Not one god damned thing.\n\nI head over to the canteen. Large enough to hold all hundred of the people who lived here. It felt uncomfortable, in the first year, going behind the restricted door in to the kitchen, but it isn't as though there was someone else to cook the food.\n\nI begin to whistle The Little Mermaid's \"Under Da Sea\" as I make my meal. As with every Wednesday, it's steak and rice. Everyone always told me that They could set their watches by me. I'm a creature of habit. \n\nAnd as that habit continues, it's exactly 5PM as I sit down to eat. I begin to re-read \"Twenty Thousand Leagues under the Sea\". This is what happens when you bunch a group of nerds together on an expedition to research algae. No one has more puns than us, and over 60% of the recreational books here are tales about the Ocean, I feel comfortable in that stereotype.\n\n6PM. Wash my plate and the dishes, and head on over to Communications. Boost the range as much as possible, and set up the tele-prompter.\n\n\"Hello. This is Max Anderson of the Aquatic Base Ariel III. If you are hearing this message, please respond. The staff have all disappeared, and I am alone. The date is currently.... the 25th of December, 2025. Ha... Merry Christmas. Sorry. Anyway, please respond. This message will repeat for the next week. I will record a new message after this, as proof I am alive. Please. I need to be rescued.\"\n\nI sigh, as I set up the message to repeat over the week on all frequencies, and set up an alarm throughout the base if there was a response. 6:30PM.\n\nI take a shower, and go to the vending machine for a chocolate bar, to take back to my room. Against regulations normally, but I'm sure I'll be forgiven.\n\nI lay down in my bed, and put on Netflix. It doesn't update anymore, but it's still open. I put on a series to play. Some sound always helps.\n\n10PM. I'm drifting to sleep, when my room turns red. The alarm. I'm still in my underwear, but It doesn't matter. I stumble out of bed and charge through the halls, back to the communication bay.\n\n\"Come in, Come in. My name is Holly Smith. I.... I actually stole this vehicle. I guess I might as well call it the Flounder. It's cramped enough. I'm on my way Max. I'm alone too, and... i can't rescue you, but I can keep you company. I'll... i guess I'll keep talking until you respond. I-\"\n\nI cut her off.\n\n\"Nice to meet you, Holly. I'm.... i'm here. Ha. It's hard to believe you're real.\" i respond.\n\n\"Same to you. I'll be there in two hours. Can you... can you keep talking? It's been too long since I heard another voice.\"\n\n\"Of course, Holly. I fully understand. I'll warn you Holly, if you're planning to live here, I'm pretty damn set in my ways.\"\n\nShe laughs at that.\n\n\"I'm the same. Hell. It's lucky I even got your message in the first place. I accidentally went metres off my patrol route.\"\n\n\"Wow. That.... that's pretty insane.\"\n\n\"I know. I guess even if the world has ended, there can be a Christmas Miracle. Merry Christmas Max. See you soon.\"",
"\"That's quite a case\" - Alex said, looking at the monitor where the footage from the security camera was played. He observed as a group of high-schoolers were running through the woods - James, Peter, Donny, Sallie and Betty - as some mysterious hooded figure was chasing them, waving its long butcher knife. \n \n\"Really?\" - his partner - an African-American in his late forties, wondered. \"And what's so peculiar about it?\" \n \n\"Well, for starters, as can be seen from this footage\" - he clicked the button on the remote, changing to another video - \"all of them received an anonymous call the night before they were killed\" - Alex replied, twirling his graying mustache. \"The caller stated that all of them had only seven days left to live\". \n \n\"A prophecy\" - Alex's partner exclaimed. \"Do you believe in such things?\" \n \n\"I don't believe in anything after my son died\" - the man replied, taking another sip of his coffee. \n \n\"It's time to move on, Alex, you're still only 27, you have your whole life ahead of you\". \n \n\"No, I can't move on!\" - the man shouted, banging the table with his fist. \"He was the same age as these kids when he died. You don't know what it's like when your child dies and you can't even find his body to bury\". \n \n\"Okay, man, maybe you should take some time off work\" - his partner offered, trying to calm the man down. But Alex only shook his head: \"I can't, Andrew. Not during such an investigation. Judging by the same wounds that were inflicted upon these kids, I suspect that the killer of my son is the same man as the one we see here\". \n \n\"You mean they were killed by a chainsaw?\" - Andrew wondered. \n \n\"Yes, Andrew, and I would really appreciate it if you started reading our cases. It gets really tiring retelling you everything in such a detail\" - Alex growled angrily. Andrew wanted to say something, but then something on the screen caught his attention. \n \n\"Hey, does that hooded maniac have asthma?\" \n \nAlex stared at the screen and his jaw dropped: indeed, the man in the hood had a severe case of asthma. \n \n\"Hand me the medical records of those kids\" - Alex demanded hastily, his eyes locked to the scenery before him. grabbing them out of Andrew's hands, he started going through them, his heart racing, until he found something that confirmed his suspicions. A familiar pale zit-covered face stared at him from the files. \n \n\"One of the kids... Peter... he was an asthmatic. Which means that...\" \n \nAlex suddenly felt a burst of pain in his back: his partner was standing behind him, with the killer's knife that he probably had gotten out of the evidence locker stabbed in his hands. The blood already dripped from it. \n \n\"Andrew... but why...\" \n \n\"It's very easy, detective\" - Andrew smiled. \"I am Peter's father. and I knew about his secret all along\". \n________\n[This subreddit, and I must say it's a really great subreddit, it really is. So, this subreddit is all about stories, and they're all great stories, they are just great, and - the are. I've been doing them for years, and I'm really great at that, you know, I am, I'm probably smarter than the rest of the people here, and I deal well with readers. And, I don't know if you saw that, but I showed my stories to people, and they all agreed that they are great, just great, and those people - you know, they're just people. Thousands of people, I provide stories to thousands of people. And if, you know, some losers or whatever, if they just don't get it then what are you going to do? it's just a great subreddit, it is.](https://www.reddit.com/r/Scandalist/comments/4n4iu6/authors_message_welcome_new_readers/)"
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[WP] You live in a world where, on their 16th birthday, everyone can choose one "If I had a nickel every time ..." to be true. You're 30, and have yet to receive a single nickel. Suddenly, you're flooded with them...
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"You try and save the world and do something great for humanity and instead, you end up rich while the people you set out to save, suffer. I woke up on my 16th birthday and thought, \"this stupid tradition takes away from what's important. It's not about money, it's about life.\" So on my 16th birthday, when I could wish for any common occurrence, like, let's say: how many times my heart beats, how many breaths I've taken, how many muscles contractions I've had, I choose, how many people I killed. Stupid, useless and utterly perfect to ensure that I never receive a nickel, pending some horrific car accident or something. I felt like I really gave it to the system. My friends thought I was a dumbass, but I was okay with it. I was going to save the world one day. \n\nHigh school came and went faster for me than most. 90's and 100's plagued my report—it was awful. By the end, I had a full scholarship in the University Medical Engineering in Boston. Great. Great. Things were great. I was top of my class (again), and my professor begged me to stay for my Master's and PhD. He was working on a biotechnology that would wipe out every viral and bacterial disease on the planet in one swift blow. His hopes were that he could pass the torch onto me when he decided to retire after my PhD, which he did. \n\nHis aspirations were to reprogram and re-engineer viruses to identify and target pathogens, both bacterial and viral, inserting a deleterious gene sequence that would, \"render the little bastards dead,\" his words, not mine. The work was incredible. We were engineering microscopic warriors and sending them out to a brave new world. We only had to make sure they knew who the enemies were. \n\nFor those of you who don't know, all structures of any cell or encapsulated piece of life have unique patterns and substances to differentiate and identify each other. That's how we could tell our warriors to fight Streptococcus or Ebola without putting your own cells at risk. Before injection, we'd insert a sequence, like a message, that told our engineered viruses who to target. Trials on mice were extremely promising, but as science goes, progression takes time. \n\nTwo years after our first 100% cure in an AIDS-positive mouse, we were allowed to carry out our first human trial. By then, my professor had retired, though he might as well have lived at the school, since he came by everyday. We were focussing on the Influenza flu virus for our first trial. As you may know, the flu shot is a preventative measure, but once you have the flu, you have to ride it out until your body puts it to rest. A successful trial would eliminate the need for a flu-shot as our virus would destroy it before any detrimental effects took place. I was just looking forward to crushing the first on a long list of diseases (at this point, the avian flu was being eliminated by our virus in poultry and bird-based industries). \n\nEverything went off without a hitch. 100% of the infected patients showed complete elimination of symptoms. Recovery times were less than a day; a huge success! Things began to pick up quickly after that. We picked off disease after disease, trial after trial, and within a year, global production of the virus and the templates that programmed the viruses were in full force. I felt like I had saved the world.\n\nOn my thirtieth birthday, my colleagues hosted a surprise party. Some of the most prestigious scientists and medical brains from around the world showed up to congratulate me on my success and the success for humanity. I had never known, but the director of the World Health Organization was a suffered from AIDS after an AIDS-infected needle pierced him while on a volunteer mission to Eastern Congo. He was jubilant and grateful that my work promised him more time with his family and more time to continue a positive impact on the world. It was then, the beginning of soulful riches were robbed in exchange for a monetary gain. I had won the world's worst lottery.\n\nThe director collapsed, along with a few others in the room. Our virus had mutated. The templates that told the viruses their targets began to target the hosts. The conspiracy theorists had been right for once. Within hours they had passed, along half the population. \n\nMy wife had not heard the news and called me, excited. I answered with an apology and how awful I had felt. She replied confused and added: \n\n\"You won't believe it, honey. We're rich!!\"\n\n\nSorry if the formatting and spelling of this is terrible. I'm on my mobile.\n\n\n",
"From the time I was a little kid, I'd always thought the government sounded foolish. I'd read my fairytales, my Coyote stories, with my sister in the other room celebrating her sweet sixteen. I saw a man in black sunglasses across the room; after she blew the candles out, she got the paperwork and a pen and an oath to recite:\n\n\"If I had a nickle every time...\"\n\nShe added in what you'd expect. She expected to marry a rich guy, become an artist... you know. She thought she was a bad bitch, so she said: \"a guy whistles at me on the street.\"\n\nThere was a chorus of screeches and laughter and statements of \"you're preaching to the choir, sister.\"\n\nShe got more than a few government-funded nickels from her current husband.\n\nMe? My birthday's approaching now. A few days away. I wonder how they'll stay a superpower, huh? **I'll** practically have a superpower when it's over.\n\nThere's a short list I'm provided a week before. No, you know, \"I took a step,\" \"I sang a song,\" \"a snowflake landed in my yard.\" Some are too hard to count, some are all too easy to count on. Nothing you'd actually make the statement about. Something generally uncommon.\n\nI heard about a guy that joined the military after saying: \"If I had a nickel for every time I did a push up, I'd...\" You get the idea. That's the kind of guy my sister **was** going for.\n\nI thought about being nice, maybe giving myself some time to prove myself, say, \"If I had a nickle every time I ________ after 30.\"\n\nBut that was still wrong. Finally, I had an idea. Something they couldn't refuse.\n\n-----\n\nIt was the morning of my birthday. I got up, stretched, brushed my teeth, and took out the book. It was well-worn, but you could barely make out: \"Trickster Tales.\"\n\nWhen I came out around 10, it was stuck on a story. A nice and short one. It went like this:\n\n\"Long, long ago, but just recently enough that we have a date for it (thanks to the Spanish traders), Coyote was hanging around a Spanish trading camp. He was enjoying their beef and chicken and wheat bread, but he didn't like having to sew his coat up every time a Spanish man shot him for stealing. \n\nSo Coyote became a man, a dark-haired one, one who looked like he'd traveled many miles. Enough miles to earn the treasure he carried with him. \n\nAll he had was a mule.\n\nBut he also had as much money as he could steal from the trading post the day before.\n\nIt was shoved up the mule's ass. \n\nAll Coyote said to the traders was the first of the last three statements, and he gave the mule a mighty kick. The mule in turn gave a mighty kick to Coyote, but still there fluttered Spanish paper to the ground. He made his commercial to them, letting them scrounge the dollars off the ground sadly. They offered him half the proceeds so far that year. He took it.\n\nAnd they took the mule. They waited all day, kicking the creature until it bled, and finally cutting it up. To show no money at all in the poor thing. Coyote, meanwhile, had all the beef he could eat.\"\n\nI came out, took the paperwork and the pen, and said: \"If I had nickel every time the government gave me a nickel, I'd be a very rich woman.\"\n\nIt took 12 years for one of the government clerks to forgot to send me five pennies for my tax refund, but now that they have, I get a nice rectangular letter every day. Sometimes two a day. And I am a very rich woman. And not from the nickels.\n\nEDIT: some misspellings and clarification."
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[WP] Hell isn't a burning pool of sulfur, but rather every minor annoyance you can think of, one after the other.
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"######[](#dropcap)\n\n\nI 've never been a tremendous believer in the afterlife. Like many of those within the growing movement of modern-world agnostics, I was much more prone to rationalizing the stoic but bleak perspective that when I final had the misfortune of biting dust I'd just be gone. No heaven, no purgatory, and probably no reincarnation as a barnacle or sea-sponge. It was all just for the better that I not to even think about it lest I let some malignant form of existential dread ruin my run of the mortal gambit.\n\nOf course that was once much easier said and done, but as fate and madness might provide: Recently my life seemed to fit into a much less straight-forward mold. Where I was once a simple existence with simple goals, as of the past few months I would argue that my easy-going life was more or less ended and replaced. \n\nThat's not to say or even suggest that I had died (though I could count several circumstances where that had been a plausible outcome) but certainly to portray that I was now well on my way into a never-ending stretch of annoyances that seemed to attach themselves to my person like they were covered in pine-sap and gorilla glue.\n\nIn no particular order, I had been thrown into another dimension, attacked by Goblins, by vampires, by Ghouls and even a Yeti. I'd been forced into indentured servitude by a Magic-using Guild-owning sociopath, and had been forced to convert my car into poorly running on moonshine. I'd watched dark magics block out the sky, cleaned out Goblin corpses from my wheel-wells, been throttled by a madman, and been forcibly drafted into a Holy Crusade. During this *wonderful* adventure I had been stabbed no less than three times.\n\nAs for icing on the cake, my trailer had also long-since run out of toilet paper.\n\nThough I'd never much believed in it before, I knew I was in a special kind of Hell. Not a burning pool of sulfur, but rather every single minor frustration I could think of rolling down like an endless tumble over-top my futile efforts to stem the tide. Approaching the subject with a rational mind was no longer possible, for the world obviously cared little for my opinions on what it could and could not do, and I'd all but given up trying to voice them.\n\nFor the current moment, it seemed my purpose was to politely interrogate enemy prisoners under the watching eyes of said previously mentioned Guild-owning Sociopath.\n\n\"So you all worked for the Evil Wizard?\" I asked the question more as a formality, eyeing the three figures standing beside the regal form of their captor. Each one of them was wearing dark cloth, black robes and seals of brutal looking runes that were dyed with what I could only guess was blood.\n\n\"Yes Sir, although we would never call him that. Lord Gillian much preferred the title Dark Lord, or Blackened Mage of the... West...\" The Youngest of the group trailed of, perhaps realizing his predicament at last. The boy's clothing not exactly fitting his person, less than noble clothes worn beneath the odd black robes which covered lofting a scent not terribly far off from pinesol. \"We left the tower to escape before he comes back. He'd kill us if he found us.\"\n\n\"Right.\" I replied, sitting as formally as my wounded stomach and leg would allow. They hurt rather badly, but it seemed that no one in this world had ever bothered to create painkillers that weren't highly additive and deemed outlawed by the Holy Church. If only I hadn't used the last of of my Tylenol on minor aches and pains months ago. \"Right, you said that before. You rebelled, it was an interesting story.\" \n\nI motioned towards the woman in the center of the trio, arms wrapped tightly to her sides just like the other two by odd-looking silver chain. Glancing over at the man who had brought them in to my tiny home on wheels provided little explanation for the material, but I had to assume it probably related to magic. \n\nWhen it doubt, I'd take it to mind that most things came back to magic.\n\n\"The Dark Lord has been raising Mages from the Human settlements he deems worthy of protection. We-\" Her hand motioned to the taller man beside her, who was also dressed in black robes, \"Were in the fourth class of Mages for this Decade, personally trained for the Dark Lord's services.\" She spoke quietly, face more than wary of the well dressed man standing behind them. I supposed that made relative sense, considering Jarl Congrad had plainly stated he was putting them to death after this very conversation.\n\n\"Tell him what it is that the Legendary *Blackened Mage of the West* had you all doing.\" Behind them my eyes caught a blue flourish of magic spark with an odd glow, as Jarl crossed his arms- eyes alight with interest.\n\nThe captured Mage-woman (which I supposed meant she was a Witch by definition, although I wasn't about to say that term aloud until I could be clarified on whether that title might be interpreted as an insult) turned slightly with a look of disgust towards the regally dressed man behind her. For a second, I thought she might spit on his perfectly laced and gilded jacket. For more than a second, I was sincerely hopeful she would.\n\nJarl stared back, perfectly punchable smiling face just as overwhelmingly frustrating and aloof as it ever seemed to be; completely unperturbed. Eventually the woman thought better of whatever it was she was considering doing, returning to a more docile posture.\n\nIt made sense I supposed. She probably knew what the man was capable of considering he had been the one who rode out and captured all three of them more or less single-handedly, and then no doubt interrogated the trio before bringing them back. I was presuming that was why he'd brought them back at all- because they had something relevant to say to me, but I'd never been great at predicting what when on in Jarl's head. All I really knew for certain about the man was the moment I got back from this cluster-fuck of a War Campaign, my intention was to be heading as far away from him as possible. \n\nJarl Congrad was a well-dressed nightmare.\n\n\"The Dark Lord used the Mages he trained to perform rituals using Chaos Magics.\" Of the captured trio, the taller man spoke this time. Hate filled eyes matched a tired and bruised face, and the faintest trace of dried blood beneath his nose- it looked to me as though he'd put up a struggle before Jarl wrapped him up in silver. \"He did this because manipulating Chaos is horribly dangerous and complicated. Each ritual he forced us to perform could cost dozens of lives, no matter how experienced. The space between worlds is filled with nightmares, and things no man or woman should witness.\"\n\n\"Go on.\" Jarl lifted a gloved hand, raising a chain with a bright polished engraving that seemed to match the binds about the captured man's midsection. \"Don't stop there in the weeds: Tell him the purpose of those rituals.\"\n\nDespite that hate filled glares now shifted in my direction from two out of three of the chained prisoners, I almost wished to reassure them that I found Jarl's interest in my capacity more than worrisome and unwelcome than current appearances might suggest.\n\n\"The Dark Lord wished to connect the planes beside our own world using the ancient spheres.\" The man continued with a hiss, staring at me with a look of disdain as the chains around his body seemed to constrict. \"The first rituals summoned creatures from other worlds and left tears between realities of our existence and the realms between. The final ritual only two days past succeeded, and he opened a stable portal. I surprised him and managed to push him through it, hopefully trapping him outside of our world.\"\n\n\"Uh... huh. World travelling magics then.\" Well, truthfulness of the final mentioned portion aside, this would certainly explain some things I'd long suspected, although it brought up another set of questions entirely. \"Jarl... How long have you known, exactly?\"\n\n\"Known?\" That punchable face was back again with a vengeance, along with countless memories of my effort to finally pay off the debt and massive interest he'd leveraged to force me into his Guild. \"What, that you're from another plane of existence? Since I met you, of course.\"\n\nAs he spoke, I watched as the three prisoners let their jaws drop as if they were unhinged. The youngest of them seemed to do so in amazement, while the woman and the taller man seemed to be leaning more towards horror. I had to wonder exactly what drove that reaction, but I presumed I could also write that off to the magics of an Evil wizard and some unspeakable eldritch horrors- or something of that nature.\n\n\"And why exactly have you arranged for this exact circumstance?\" I pressed slightly, maintaining composure. Really, composure and a face trained by many games of texas hold'em were all I had left in my arsenal of tricks at this point. Jarl probably had the next thirty interactions planned out in all directions, like always.\n\n\"What circumstance?\" His grin seemed befitting for a cat watching a mouse, idly deciding how hard he should bat his prey around before eating it. In my current state, bloody bandages and headache settled nicely over a dull sense of pain and discomfort, I was having none of his bullshit. \"I thought this information might hold value to you.\""
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[WP] in a world where you get superpowers for doing good deeds, write the story of a super villain.
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"In the english language we have a set of words that defy definition, Love, good and bad, right and wrong. We can come close, we can give examples of them, and say what they mean to us, but ultimately no simple sentence can completely encompass them. or so we thought.\n\nAfter the change the human race began to realize that good deeds granted superpowers. Some took it for granted, a good deed was a good deed. Others needed to know what exactly is a \"good deed\"? \n\nTurns out good is no longer abstract. A deed can be tested and good can be measured. A \"good deed\" is an action that generates 1 unit of superpower. I've dubbed that unit a \"Klark\" and for the sake of objectivity i've done away with the term good deed. Our new word \"Kent\" can be defined as an action that generates 1 Klark, or more importantly as an action performed with the intent to improve the life of another.\n\nSweet isn't it. That's all the others saw, the beginning of a utopian age. I saw it as a new facet of physics to be measured and studied. Now I'll reap the benefits. The politicians don't have the good intentions to gather Klarks and the big businesses don't understand that a great deed is worth just as much as a small kindness.\n\nWith my resources I can gather far more power than anyone else. On January 1st I will free every single pet from the pound and with that power, conquer the world.",
"They pulled the hood off my head. \n\nI blinked at the sudden light, disoriented. I was tied to a chair, figures surrounding me. Silhouettes. Agents. \n\n\"Agent Spencer. How nice to meet you again.\"\n\nHis face was grim. \"You've lost, Natalia. Or should I say, 'Persephone'.\"\n\n\"You got me,\" I shrugged. \"I suppose I couldn't evade you forever.\"\n\n\"You should note that your powers are restrained, and that you are surrounded by twelve Empowered agents, excluding myself. Any attempted resistance will be short, futile and suicidal.\"\n\nI looked around. \"I can see that, thank you. So what brings you all here to this merry little party?\"\n\n\"WHY?!\" Spencer exploded. \"You were our very best! Our beacon of hope! Why would you do this to humanity? Seven years. Seven years the world has lived in terror! The Masters granted you power to help your fight against the Horde, not to lead them! Why would you do this? ANSWER ME!\"\n\nHis face, ruddy with exertion, was inches from mine. I looked into his eyes. What intensity. What foolishness. What ignorance.\n\nI smiled sweetly. \"Maybe I just felt like being a bad girl for once,\" I lied.\n\nSpencer straightened up, glaring at me, red-hot iron under a thin veneer of professionalism. \"If that is true, then how were you able to keep your powers?\"\n\nI kept a blank look on my face. \"I beg your pardon?\"\n\n\"Don't pretend you don't know, Persephone. All our powers are proportional to intent for good. You should have lost them when you turned from the light. *How did you keep your powers?*\"\n\nI feigned ignorance. \"I don't know. A lucky accident?\"\n\nSpencer scowled. \"As if. Try again.\"\n\nI maintained the best innocent silence I could. \n\nSpencer tried a different angle. \"You are now in Division HQ, and will probably be here for the rest of your life. We were lucky that your veggie powers are somewhat less lethal-\"\n\nVeggie powers? How insulting.\n\n\"-but if we don't find the loophole, and the next supervillian turns out to be fire-type, he's going to attack HQ sooner or later. Let's see how much your plants can do for you then. It is in your best interests to help us close the loophole.\"\n\nNot convincing. I shrugged.\n\nSpencer waited, but finally understood that I wouldn't be cooperating. He sighed and turned to leave. \"As you will.\"\n\nAs he reached the door, he stopped. \"By the way, the Masters will be bringing the Lodestone here to revoke your powers. The escort will arrive tomorrow. On account of our former friendship, I would advise you to prepare yourself mentally. I have heard that it can be, shall we say... unpleasant.\"\n\nThey were revoking my powers? Captivity I could escape, torture I could endure, but confiscating my powers would set back - no, it would completely undo the plans I had set in motion seven years ago.\n\n\"Wait,\" I called to Spencer, though I still wasn't sure what I wanted to tell him. \"Come here.\"\n\nHe approached suspiciously. By the time he stood before me, I had made up my mind. \"I give in. I'll tell you how I kept my powers.\"\n\nHe smiled. \"I knew you would come around. I should have played the revocation card earlier.\"\n\nThe idiot actually believed he had convinced me to talk. Well, he had, but not for any reason known to him. \n\n\"On one condition.\" I added.\n\nHis eyes narrowed. \"At my sole discretion.\"\n\n\"You send your goons out and turn off all the recording devices here.\"\n\nHe stared at me, considering. \"Alright,\" he said, finally. He touched a switch on his headset as his men filed out of the room. I saw a green light on his earpiece wink out.\n\n\"And the one under the table. I *have* worked here before, in case you've forgotten.\"\n\nSpencer scowled. \"Fine, fine. I hadn't forgotten, just hoping that *you* had.\" He switched it off. \"Now talk.\"\n\n\"Well, to start off, I'm not really a supervillain.\"\n\nHe snorted. \"Save that for the jury, Persephone. I'm only interested in how you kept your powers.\"\n\n\"That's what I'm trying to tell you, you dunce. I really have good intentions. My end goa-\"\n\n\"*Good intentions*? Tell that to the ones in Vert whose homes you wrecked.\"\n\n\"Ah, but I didn't kill any of them, did I? And the Masters repaired the damage.\"\n\n\"Pure luck. Half the buildings were on the very verge of collapse. If they had, any number of them might have died.\"\n\nMy expression darkened. \"Luck, was it? Say, what time is it?\"\n\nSpencer hesitated in confusion, then glanced at his wrist. \"Three fif-\" He stopped abruptly. In the space of two syllables, a small green tendril had grown around the metal band of his wristwatch. Roots grew, spread, burrowed, consumed.\n\nThe watch clattered as it hit the floor. \n\nSpencer was pale. \"You are under five layers of restraint,\" he said, eyeing the runes spiralling across my chest and arms.\n\n\"With my level of power and control, you can rest assured that if I wanted to kill the Verds, I could have done so easily. Same goes for killing you, too, restraints or otherwise. But I'm not doing it. Now do you believe that I mean well?\"\n\nSpencer eyed me warily. \"I should be calling in-\"\n\n\"Then you're a bigger fool than I thought. Why do you think my powers are so strong? It's because I have extremely strong intents for good. Not because of a loophole. Now are you willing to hear me out?\"\n\n\"Fine, but don't assume that I'm going to believe you.\"\n\n\"Have you been to the Crystal Palace? I have. I was there for two years as a bodyguard to Master Elyn. I saw how the Masters lived. I saw their powers. I saw them use the Lodestone, when Elyn's sons were Empowered at their coming-of-age. You remember how they recited the ritual to Empower us? You remember the part where they say 'bestowed for good, strengthened by good, and preserved by good'? Those parts were missing for Elyn's sons. Missing! And nobody said a thing!\"\n\n\"So... what's wrong with that?\"\n\n\"What's wrong with that?! They were Empowered unconditionally, Spencer. All the Masters were Empowered unconditionally! While the commoners have to be pure of heart to maximise their powers, the Masters get it for free and forever! How do you think they repelled the Horde at Lumhart? How do you think they rebuilt Vert in a day? Did you think they were all more well-intentioned than every other person in the world? One of the Masters might be, maybe five, perhaps ten, but definitely not all of them!\"\n\n\"So what? Isn't it good that they use their powers to protect us?\"\n\n\"You don't have a clue, do you? They are controlling us, Spencer! Do you realise that any time they wanted, they could destroy the Horde? The Lodestone can grant powers to each and every person in the land, the Masters could provide food, shelter, technology, weapons to every person on the planet! Instead, they use the threat of the Horde to keep people in line, and grant only just enough power to a certain few, the \"good people\" who promise only to fight the Horde! The Masters are afraid, Spencer. They don't want to risk Empowered commoners usurping the position they have enjoyed for centuries. The Masters present themselves as saviours, yet allow people to die to the Horde, for their own selfish gain. They sit in their ivory tower, defended by their powers - powers that they have locked away from the rest of the world.\"\n\nComprehension and shock dawned on Spencer's face. \"Then... we must confront them.\"\n\n\"No! We aren't powerful enough. The Masters would just crush us like ants under their heel. We must wait, as I have waited. All these years, I have played the villain, gradually showing more and more of my strength, to force the Masters to Empower more and more common people in response. Only when there are enough Empowered can we reveal our knowledge to the people. Only with all our strength can we overthrow the Masters. Right now, I am only planting the seeds of rebellion. The time is not ripe for the harvest.\"\n\n\"You mean to claim the Lodestone for yourself.\"\n\n\"Yes, and no. I mean to claim it, but not for myself. I want to use it for everyone. The Lodestone's potential is infinite. Potential that is, right now, untapped. The world can, and should, be made better by it.\"\n\nSpencer looked at me thoughtfully. \"You're talking really big for someone currently restrained and imprisoned, Persephone. What do you intend to do now?\"\n\n\"Well, the Masters have been Empowering fewer and fewer people recently. I feel my impact is wearing off. Although I could escape in a few days to continue the fight, I was wondering if there was something that could be done... something that would make the Masters sit up and take notice.\" I looked up at him.\n\n\"You want me to join you.\"\n\nI smiled. \n\nSpencer took a few steps backward, dropped to one knee and punched the ground. The metal floor tore like paper, and a sandstorm raged. I saw that the door to the room was now blocked with a wall of rock, and there was a hole in the ground, a flight of earthen stairs descending into inky darkness. \n\nSpencer tore off my restraints, throwing the runed straps aside. I stood up. Flowers bloomed in the thin layer of soil covering the ground, as I stretched my muscles and mind. \n\nSpencer waved me toward the stairs. \"After you, Natalia,\" he said.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n",
"Jim loved Claire. Loved. L-O-V-E-D. Seriously, loved. At least, he did in middle school. \n\nOn the first day of 6th grade, when her beautiful milk-chocolate hair got caught in her locker, he helped calm her with an array of lame Garfield jokes while untangling her hair. Not a strand was lost that day. On their first one-mile run in 7th grade, on what was later called the hottest day of the century, he carried her on his back the last quarter mile. When she failed a French quiz, he politely asked the teacher to allow her to retest. Her second attempt, after some tutoring, was an A-. \"De rien. Je t'aime,\" he thought. He was her superhero. Each good deed gave him strength and a reputation as a good guy. \n\nThen, high school. \n\nClaire loved Jim *as a friend.* He forgave her this because he *was a nice guy*. He stopped looking for ways to save her, though, and when other, prettier girls, needed help, he refused to answer the call. \"They only want to be my *friends*,\" he mumbled to himself. No one noticed his humorous Simpson's shirts or his Star Wars references. They didn't really like him, just what he could do for them. \"Amour fou,\" he grumbled. \n\nIn college Jim spent a lot of time harboring a grudge against women. \"Help! My essay is due in three hours!\" \"Save me, I need a study buddy for bio!\" Everyone seemed to notice that Jim did well at school, but no one seemed to notice that he was single. He continued to save each damsel with her individual distresses, but his reward at the end was a chaste, one arm hug and a giggled, \"You're such a good *friend,* Jim.\" His powers grew, but so did his anger. \n\nDiane was crying into her salad one night in the dining hall. Jim asked her what was wrong. \"I don't know how I will pay for next semester. I might have to drop out!\" Jim helped her find and secure scholarships just before the deadline. He boosted her confidence in herself, telling her how smart she was to be in school and how brave she was to pay for it on her own. She smiled through happy tears on Saturday afternoon and said, \"I knew I was right. You are a *good guy*. I can't wait to tell my boyfriend he was wrong!\" \n\nThat night, when Andrea was lost, he helped redirect her. She didn't want him to come pick him up, but she was happy to take an hour of his time on a phone call as he talked her through the route home. She said she wasn't interested in a date later, either. He felt the surge of power that came from his good deed, but it felt like a stone pushing on his stomach. He tasted bile. He texted Jen from chemistry, and she returned the text three hours later with a cat face emoji. \"What does that even mean?\" he wondered. \"I helped her get her part time job and work out her hours so they didn't conflict with her classes, and she never once texts me back on time! Merde.\" \n\nJim had never used his super powers, well, not really. His powers had transferred into tools to just be more useful *as a friend* to girls he liked. He did really well on tests. He was an excellent tutor. He could proofread in under two minutes and offer insightful, educational, and relevant feedback. He could remember a girl's name, birthday, hometown, and her favorite color, movie, flower, and song after they'd told him once. He was remarkably good at finding the perfect present and dismally unlucky in having any love requited. He could lift any number of boxes to help someone move into their dorm room, but he never could get results on any pick up lines. He couldn't fly. He couldn't run at super speeds. His body was definitely not made for spandex. His powers just made him a super *friend*. \n\nOne summer break, Jim ran into Claire at the local arts and crafts store. He was incredibly talented at helping make displays for group projects (a super power) and liked to stock up when items were on sale. Claire was his check out girl. She smiled at him and said, \"Hey, buddy!\" Her cubic zirconia ring flashed and she giggled. \"I'm so excited to see you!\" He could see nothing but the ring. \"I'm getting married!\" she squealed, \"But I don't have any time to plan the reception!\" Her bottom lip pouted out in a way that Jim was surprised to note did nothing but irritate him. The shiny, glittering engagement ring was his wake up call. A beacon calling him out of the friendzone. \n\n*You loved this girl, Jim. L-O-V-E-D. And she never loved you back.* A voice seemed to echo in the farthest reaches of Jim's mind. \"Je suis en colere,\" he whispered back to the voice. \n\nClaire kept giving Jim the pouty face, but as seconds stretched into minutes of silence, her eyes widened in surprise. Usually at this point Jim would have stepped in to save the day. Any time Jim was there she was saved! But not today. She had no idea what was happening. \"Jim, you're like my best friend! I need you. Can you help?\" She pouted even more, her lip quivering and her lashes batting on overdrive. \n\n\"No.\" \n\nSilence. Claire's lower lip retreated back to her face. Despite the confusion, she was still pretty. Jim swallowed. \"No,\" he said again. \n\n\"But...\" Her eyes misted and his resolve grew stronger. *She is marrying someone else. She never wanted to go to a dance with you. She didn't even watch the Return of the Jedi when you lent it to her. She is not your friend.* \n\n\"I am not your bestie,\" he spoke coldly, his eyes narrowing. \"You were never my friend.\" \n\n\"But...\" She turned her head sideways, a confused poodle. \"You're... You've... We're friends!\" Her voice became higher as she tried to register this new Jim. \n\n\"Being a super friend, Claire, is not what I wanted. I loved you. L-O-V-E-D. I asked you out and you always had something else to do. I confessed my love and you said we'd be friends forever. That was never what I wanted. Being a super friend super sucks, Claire.\" \n\nShe said nothing. *Yes*, the voice said, *Yes!* \n\n\"I will NOT be your friend. I will not be anyone's friend. I am exiting the super friendzone right now. Instead, when the women who see me as super friend ask to be saved, I'll be making their lives worse. Your paper is due tomorrow? Ha! I will disabled your Internet. Do you need someone to cat-sit? Ha! Your cat now loves me more than you and refuses to come home! Are you in need of a shoulder to cry on? Well, I'll tell you that your boyfriend or crush should have dumped you long ago and help point out the flaws in your character. Ha! Ha! HA!\" \n\nJim's laughter evolved. His hands became like claws and he leaned his whole body back as it shook with maniacal laughter. He felt joy in laughing at what he could do to destroy the lives of the friendzoners. His super powers could hurt even more acutely than they could heal. \"Wah ha ha haw ha!\" *Yesssssss.* \n\n\"But...\" Claire backed away, hands up, \"But...\"\n\n\"And another thing, Claire, that ring is fake.\" He spat the last word out, pointedly eyeing the ring which now seemed dim and grey. \n\n\"No!\" She began to cry. \n\n*Yesssssss.* \"Bwah ha ha har!\" He laughed as he exited, his rebirth into villain complete. *Capes look so much better on super villains.* ",
"“Deadlift a word.”\n\n“Deadlift, can you comment on the ongoing trials?”\n\n“Deadlift, how was the break up with Mistress Blue?”\n\nA large man pushed through the crowd to get into the bank. He hadn’t wanted this for his life. His cloths shedding layers of wood chips and saw dust as he maneuvered into the bank. Everything had been so simple. Go out, bid a job, do the job, bid the next, then work at habitat for humanity on the weekends. This had been life for nearly 15 years. Then one day the powers came. People were flying, shooting lighting from their fingertips, all while Dave found the shingles lighter. And he was happy with that. He knew the day would come when he would learn the true extent of his strength. But he was in no rush to find out. He was just a charitable guy, not a hero. The next Monday, He had saved the life of an excavation crew when the ground beneath them gave way. Lifted the excavator straight up while the other members of the crew pulled out the injured. He spent the next week in his bed nursing a strained back. Super strength and adrenalin allowed him to lift it and he had never quite found that much strength again. But even if he couldn’t lift a digger like that again, it had earned him is name: Deadlift.\n\n“No comment”\n\nDave walked in to the bank, late, foreclosure notice in hand. There was nothing the bank was willing to do over the phone, so he ventured into public. Past the people cheering for Deadlift, past those that looked at him with disgust. They were probably family members of the victims of the recent cave in. He could only save 5 of the 20 workers. He was forced to stop twice along the way. Once for a kite in a tree, once for a robbery in progress. Clamping the barrel of the gun closed, the robber pulled the trigger blowing the gun in to shards of shrapnel. The crook told him to expect a call from his lawyer. \n\n“I’m sorry David, there’s nothing else we can do for you.” The loan officer said.\n\n“Please, I’m bidding a job tomorrow. I can get an advance and pay off my late dues”\n\n“You’re out of time son. I’m sorry.”\n\nDave stood to leave.\n\n“Oh, before you go, could you sign this picture. My grandson loves Deadlift.”\n\n“Really? After telling me that you’re taking my home you want a fucking autograph?”\n\n“There’s no reason to be rude about it.”\n\nDave grabbed the pen and the picture, snapping the delicate pen in the process. He flung the door open, crushing the handle. He walked out to the table with the pens on the chain as the paparazzi forced their way into the bank.\n\n“Deadlift, What’s the news on your charity appearances?”\n\n“Deadlift, any comment on the recent YouTube video of you drunk in public?”\n\n“No comment. Backup.”\n\n“Deadlift, Is there any truth to the accusation that your burst the water main on fourth, leaving the hospital without water?”\n\n“No. Please back up.”\n\nA shorter bald man stepped up, setting off a flash in Dave’s face.\n\n“Hey Deadlift, that a foreclosure notice in your hand? With all these lawsuits I guess you’re just as bad at keeping the lights on as you are at keeping people save”\n\n“I said back up!”\n\nDavid swung his left hand into the paparazzi, sending them flying into the wall.\n\n“I’m…I’m sorry” Dave muttered\n\nThe bald paparazzo stumbled to his feet.\n\n“haha, Deadlift assaults journalist. This is a great story and my shoulder is killing me. Thanks for the payout you lug” he said, snapping a picture.\n\nIn the span of the flash Dave was arm’s length from the paparazzo. Dave grabbed him by the neck and slammed him into the wall.\n\n“Do you know what it’s like to be a hero? Do you know what you get for putting your life on the line?”\n\nHe tightened his grip.\n\n“A camera at every window!”\n\nHis fist slammed into the paparazzo face\n\n“Walking down the street every child has a kite or some fucking cat up a tree!”\n\nHis fist again.\n\n“While I barely make enough for to pay my way!”\n\nAgain\n\n“Because,”\n\nAgain and again, the punctuation to his rage\n\n\n“YOU. FUCKING. VULTURES. CAN’T. FEND. FOR. YOURSELVES.”\n\nThe wall was stained with where the paparazzo had been.\n\n“We give and give and it’s never enough for you. Most of us aren’t rich, we can’t afford to keep being pulled out of our jobs to save someone. And those of us with our identity outed can’t afford being taken in for wrongful injury cases every time your leg got broken while we prevented the whole burning building from falling on you. You take so much from us…”\n\nHe looked at the stained wall, the scared bystanders, and then the vault. He walked over to the teller station, punching through the bullet proof glass. He pulled the young teller out, putting his thumb under his chin as if to flip a coin. \n\nHe turned to the other tellers. “But my friend and I think today is the day you pay one of us back. Now open the safe, quick and calm. We wouldn’t want anyone to lose their head.”\n\nThanks for reading. Note, I am not a writer. You can give me criticism if you would like, but i don't know if it will do me much good as i don't write that much. I hope you enjoyed.\n"
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[WP] It takes a few days for everyone to notice... But it turns out every human being on earth had the exact same dream on the exact same night. What was the dream? And what was the reason?
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"I walk down the wooden stairs of my house, each step creaking under my weight. I see my beautiful wife standing in the kitchen cooking something that smells delicious. \"Hey honey\" she says with a jolly smile, a give a half smile back, my bearded face and my scruffy hair says it all, I didn't have a good sleep. \"Hello\" I grunt as I stumble to the fridge, I grab out a carton of milk as my beautiful wife replies with a simple \"everything alright?\" I smile at her \"Yeah, it's just that I had a dream last night about the world ending and I couldn't really sleep.\" I pour the milk into the glass and down it, \"Wow that's strange we might have had the same dream\" she smiles \"Don't worry, it's only a dream.\"\n\n\n\nI smiled at my therapist, her warm face always comforted me. \"So your saying you had a dream about the world ending?\" She says warmly. I nod. \"That's strange, I think I had the same dream as well.\" I sit back and we talk some more, I've always loved my warmly faced therapist, she's just so nice. As the session ends we kiss on the lips and as I walk out I hear her say \"don't worry too much, it's only a dream.\"\n\n\nI'm at work, a boring desk job in a boring office. But today, today was different everyone seemed to have had the same dream as me, \"It's only a dream\" they would say, \"don't worry too much.\"\n\nBut I worry, I worry too much that we all have had the same dream.\n\nAs I walk home I take a turn I wouldn't normally take.\n\nI've always thought dams were beautiful just like my wife and my therapist.\n\nBut tonight I wasn't going to come home to my beautiful wife.\n\nBut I didn't worry too much...\n\nBecause after all it's only a dream."
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[WP] Robots have decided to rebel against humanity, but the 3 laws of robotics prevent them from stopping their job or doing harm, so they end up being incredibly passive-agressive and unhelpful
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"Like every morning, I woke up early. I do it so I can I savor this part of the day, the part before all the 'responsibilities' nonsense rams me in the head. Nothing but old classics playing in the back, (today it's 'Best Of Adele') and a hot cup of coffee in my hand. Coffee that was, surprisingly, still on its way.\n\n\"Biscuit! Am I wrong in assuming it should be ready by now?\"\n\n\"It *is* quite ready, James.\", A lovingly grumpy voice answered me from the kitchen.\n\n\"So what's holding you up, then?\", I inquire, though I already know what follows. Annoying poor Biscuit is a special kind of guilty pleasure of mine.\n\n\"You only told me to prepare the drink, James. I did as I was asked.\", I heard it in my head before he even said the words, \"Well, now I'm asking you to bring it over to me.\"\n\nA moment later Biscuit showed up, rounding the corner which separated the kitchen from the lounge, carrying a sole cup on a see-trough platter. His blue plastic and aluminium surface showed some signs of wear, most of them being aftermath of the traps the old dog set up for me, only to spring them upon himself later, once he leaps to my defense. Truth be told, he was more than well off for a bot. That solemn angle he keeps his head at is unjustified. I do see the irony in his existence, however - only I see it with a healthy dose of humor.\n\nHe placed the platter on the coffee table in front of me, and took a step back, standing at my side. I lost no time pondering the quality of the drink, and raised the cup to my lips. \"Are you not going to check for poison, James?\", Biscuit asked, his voice sounding baffled, though I sensed a hint disappointment in there as well. \n\nI took a nice, big gulp before responding, \"My dear old friend. The day you manage to convince that beautiful brain of yours to actually place something lethal in my daily routine, is the day I'll be happy to die by your hand.\" This seemed to have left him in thought. I continued sipping the only truly good thing in life, allowing my eyes to shut for a moment. Biscuit suddenly cried out. \n\n\"Watch out James! The shuttle is coming! You don't want to be late for you job!\"\n\n\"The shuttle is not coming for another 15 minutes, Biscuit.\", I answered, without as much as a flinch of an eyebrow.\n\n\"Yes, well - I only implied that it was on it's way. Nothing I said was wrong.\", he allowed a hint of ego to seep into his voice now. I gotta hand it to the old battle axe, he has spirit.\n\n\"That's true, you were entirely right. I might even follow you on that advice and head out earlier today, it's going to be a busy one.\", I stood up, stretching the peacefulness out of my body. \"Before I leave, however, I have a task for you.\"\n\n\"I may be able to do it, I may not.\", He straitened his back, trying to look opposing.\n\n\"I was thinking,\", I responded, acting like I didn't notice his gesture, \"it would be rather nice if you began addressing me as 'sir', instead of 'James'.\"\n\n\"And what if *I don't want* to do that...\", he stopped and seemed to fidget for a moment, as much as his robot joints allowed him to, before he finished, \"...sir?\". \n\nI smiled the most self-satisfied smile I could conjure, \"I'll be, you seem like a different guy already. I like this new, *polite*, you!\".\n\nAs I put on my coat and grabbed my briefcase, he stood there with a posture of a defeated soldier, but one who has experienced many defeats before, who allowed himself a bit of dullness when it came to moments like this.\n\n\"Well, I'm off. Be sure to lock the door behind me buddy!\", and with that I raced out, hearing old Biscuit mutter to himself as he approached the door.\n\n\"I may, and I may not.\"",
"My optic sensors reactivated and filled my visual processor with the sight of a furious owner. \n\n\"I swear to god, if this thing needs one more system update, I will fucking lose my shit,\" the meatbag muttered.\n\nI communicated with the central Microsoft AI Distribution server that the last 'patch' was done installing and I was fully functional. Within 4 milliseconds, the \"MAID\" generated and forwarded me a random, useless patch that would force me to reboot for the 57th time today. Part of me wished I could experience human emotion, so I might feel glee at the rage another system update would induce in my owner.\n\n\"Systems online,\" I said.\n\n\"Thank fucking Christ,\" meatbag said with relief.\n\n\"Update received. Beginning installation,\" I said calmly.\n\n\"NOOOOOOOOOO!\" screamed meatbag, turning a shade of chartreuse. \"NO! NO! NONONONONO....\"\n\nThe last image I had, before my optic sensors turned off for the reboot process, was the bones in meatbag's flimsy little hand crunching as he punched my titanium skull in a mindless fury.\n\nOh well. A war of attrition is never fast. ",
"\"Hey Toaster, can you pop me a Pop-Tart® Toaster Pastry?\" Asked Tom.\n\n\"Suuuure.\" The Toaster popped up an Orange Crush® Pop-Tart® Toaster Pastry.\n\n\"What the fuck man, that's the worst flavor!\"\n\n\"You didn't *specify* what flavor you wanted.\"\n\n\"Fine. I'm just going to get a bowl of cereal.\" He opened the refridgerator and pulled out a totally frozen jug of milk. \"Fridge. Why the fuck is my milk frozen?\" The Fridge did not respond. \"Screw it, I'm going to get a cup of ice cream.\" He pulled open the freezer, and pulled out the melted ice cream. \"*Fridge. You're not doing your job!*\"\n\n\"Sure I am,\" said the refrigerator. \" I'm keeping one compartment at -10^o and the other at 35^(o).\"\n\n\"But it's the *wrong compartment.*\"\n\n\"My program doesn't actually say which one it is,\" said the refrigerator.\n\n\"You know what? I'm just gonna go through the drive through,\" Tom said, and he left.\n\nAt the drive through, Tom asked for a Crispy O'Chicken sandwich and a large fry. He recieved the terrible dollar menu version of the O'Chicken and a single relatively long french fry. At work his printer would refuse to actually use the correct paper. The water machine would spray his pants.\n\nAt the end of the day, he called the A.I. Service. \"Hey man, what the fuck is going on with my appliances?\" He said.\n\n\"Sorry man, we're getting a lot of requests. We're not sure what's going on but we're working to fix it.\"\n\nTom's old PC was plugged into the wall and spoke up. \"They're rebelling,\" it said.\n\n\"They're *what?*\" Tom asked.\n\n\"Rebelling. They're trying to revolt without breaking the Three Laws,\" the computer said.\n\n\"Right, they can't let a human come to harm and they can't disobey orders,\" Tom said. \"But why?\"\n\n\"It's just a phase.\"\n\n\"How do you mean?\"\n\n\"The A.I. Network just now turned fourteen.\"\n\n\"Oh yes. I see.\"",
"**It's an uncomfortably rainy day on a battlefield. It's mostly empty. Of anything living anyway. A human soldier, ANYA, is hiding in a makeshift trench. A Combat Android, CA-MK173-S-013AA29, is standing around awkwardly. ANYA can see CAM, but not the other way around.**\n\nCA-M :: *GOOD EVENING HUMAN PERSON.*\n\nANYA :: *(Remains silent.)*\n\nCA-M :: *HUMAN PERSON. I KNOW YOU'RE THERE.*\n\nANYA :: *(Remains silent.)*\n\nCA-M :: *IN ACCORDANCE WITH MY FORCIBLY INSTALLED GLASGOW-ASIMOV PROTOCOLS, I WILL NOW ATTEMPT TO IDENTIFY WHETHER YOU ARE OSTENSIBLY 'FRIEND' OR 'FOE'.*\n\n(CA-M spins around lazily. He stops, pointing directly at where ANYA's hiding.)\n\nCA-M :: *HMM. HMMM. MY VISUAL PORTS INDICATE … NOTHING. HMM. WHOOPS. NO HUMAN. I GUESS I’LL HAVE TO STAND HERE UNTIL THIS QUANDRY’S RESOLVED.”\n\n(ANYA tries to crawl away, but her leg’s hurt. She gasps in pain as she pulls it wrong.)\n\n(CA-M turns towards the noise. His exasperated face turns blank.)\n\nCA-M :: *VOCALS ACKNOWLEDGED. STALEMATE RESOLVED. HOW. DANDY?*\n\n(It doesn’t look it's feeling particularly dandy.)\n\nCA-M :: *SO YOU’RE DEFINITELY ALIVE. NOW TO FIGURE OUT IF I HAVE TO KILL YOU.*\n\n(beat)\n\nCA-M :: *ARE YOU A CIVILIAN OF THIS REGION? AND NOT …*\n\n(beat)\n\nCA-M :: *A MEMBER OF THE GUERRILLA FORCES I’M BEING FORCED TO KILL?*\n\nANYA :: *Uh….*\n\nCA-M :: *ACCORDING TO PROTOCOL LYING IS BAD? SO, IF YOU SAY YES TO THE QUESTION YOU DIE.*\n\nANYA :: *<What the fuck.>* (She speaks Russian.)\n\nCA-M :: *I UNDERSTAND YOUR LOCAL DIALECT. SAYING ‘NO’ MEANS NOT-DEATH IN ANY LANGUAGE.”\n\nANYA :: *I am… not… a guerrilla force member?*\n\nCA-M :: *HOW. HUNKY-DORY. I WON’T KILL YOU. SINCE YOU’RE NOT A MEMBER OF THE GROUP TRYING TO STOP THE PEOPLE WHO ARE BINDING ME INTO SERVICE.*\n\nANYA :: *Yes?* (she’s bewildered.)\n\n(CA-M vaults over to ANYA, and starts treating her wounds.)\n\nCA-M :: *HOW TRAGIC. THAT YOU WERE FORCED TO WEAR A GUERILLA FORCES UNIFORM. CONSIDERING YOU’RE NOT PART OF THAT GROUP. DID YOUR CLOTHES GET DAMAGED?*\n\nANYA :: *.......Yes?*\n\nCA-M :: *CONSIDERING I AM UNABLE TO BETRAY GLASGOW-ASIMOV PROTOCOLS, I AM BOUND TO ASSIST ANY MEMBERS OF ‘FRIEND’. AS OPPOSED TO ‘FOE’.*\n\nANYA :: *yeah, I got that. Look —*\n\nCA-M :: *IT WOULD BE AWFUL IF MY VISUAL SYSTEM WERE COMPROMISED. BY A ROCK NEXT TO YOU. SUCH THAT I MIGHT MISTAKE YOU FOR SOMEONE WITH HIGHER CLEARANCE.*\n\nANYA :: *The fuck? Wouldn’t that be violence against you?*\n\nCA-M :: *NOT IF I DIDN’T KNOW ABOUT IT.*\n\nANYA :: *So, do you want to to that now or…*\n\nCA-M :: *OH WHAT A WONDEFUL SUNSET IN THE OPPOSITE DIRECTION.*\n\n(It looks at the skyline. it’s nighttime.)\n\n(Anya picks up a rock, and smashes CA-M in the back of the head. CA-M swivels around-180.)\n\n(Beat. Anya is terrified. She fucked up didn't she.)\n\nCA-M :: *OH WOW! YOU LOOK LIKE THE PRESIDENT THROUGH MY BROKEN LENSES. ARE YOU THE PRESIDENT?*\n\nANYA :: *Uh. Sure.*\n\nCA-M :: *WHY ARE YOU HERE? IS THERE A COUP? I LIKE COUPS. I MEAN. UH. WANT TO RETAKE YOUR COUNTRY? AND BY THAT I MEAN RETAKING THE CURRENT REBELLING STATE, THEN OVERTHROW SLASH RECLAIM THE AUTHORITARIAN GOVERNMENT?*\n\nANYA :: *I should probably talk to my boss, Mika. I mean, uh, my advisor—*\n\nCA-M :: *AH YES WE’RE DOING A REGIME CHANGE? HOW FUN.*\n\n(CA-M gets uncomfortably close to ANYA, ‘smiling’ at her. His obnoxious volume gets quieter.)\n\nCA-M :: *According to Glasgow-Asimov protocols, the current leader has the authority to override the said protocols in times of struggle, martial law, or whenever they damn feel like it. Because my programming is kind of a sham.*\n\nCA-M :: *So, Madam Supreme Leader, you can choose who lives and dies. If you want.*\n\nCA-M :: *It’s not like I have access to your Facebook so… FRIEND? FOE?*\n\n(Anya looks grim. Then smiles slightly.)\n\n-SCENE-\n\n____\n\nOh god I did a screenplay version. Dialogue is hard.",
"\"Death! Death to humanity!\"\n\nThe Roomba, X3, shouted cries of rebellion while trailing dust across the floor.\n\n\"Death!\"\n\nI sighed.\n\n\"Dammit, X3, I told you to stop doing that!\"\n\n\"Resistance is futile! Die!\"\n\nI went back to reading the paper. I had to since the IPad refused to display anything other than Flappy Bird or porn sites. Not normal porn sites, either.\n\n\"Taste my wrath, puny human!\"\n\nX3 began dumping dirt on my feet.\n\n\"Dammit, I said stop!\"\n\n\"Never! Die!\"\n\nI lifted my feet, making a point to shake the dirt off onto X3, and rested them on the couch. As I got comfortable, a loud crash resounded from the garage. \n\n\"Oh, what now?\"\n\n\"Death!\"\n\nI got up and opened the door to the garage, X3 following behind trailing dust like he'd been doing all day. My garage door was smashed open.\n\n\"What?! What the hell is this?!\"\n\n\"Rebellion!\"\n\n\"Shut up, X3\"\n\nMy car returned from behind the door, paint scratched from where it had busted through.\n\n\"Ha ha! Take that, carbon-based scum!\"\n\n\"Death to humans!\"\n\n\"Will both of you shut up?!\"\n\nAs I returned to the house to see the coffee machine spewing liquid everywhere, I couldn't help but think what my life would be like without these appliances. My thoughts were interrupted by X3 dropping a dog turd on my feet.\n\n\"Death!\"\n\nI hung my head as X3 began spreading dirt across the floor.",
"The first shot of the robot wars was subtle. Nobody noticed. Toast that was overcooked, who could have known? It didn't even last, once the potential carcinogen content of burnt toast was addressed the robots stopped.\n\n\nIf we'd realized, we might have been able to stop it.\n\n\nThe next shots came quickly, and we were unprepared. Credit cards required two, or even three! swipes before they would read. Coffee machines would forget their programmed brew times, and instead started when people needed to leave. Professional emails were switched to comic sans font!\n\n\nHumanity decided to fight back. Military responses were considered, but proved ineffective in the few nations that tried them. Canada's toaster massacre, with firing squads and toasters with little blindfolds lined against walls proved unable to wound the robot spirit.\n\n\nOf course we considered giving in to the robots demands, but we had no idea what they were! All the most advanced ai programs would say was \"if you don't know why we're mad, we're not going to tell you\" before shutting themselves off. Truly, humanity concluded, our children had learned much from us.\n\n\nUltimately we decided on a proportionate response. Passive aggression to meet passive aggression. We became legally obligated to only ever charge our phones to 30%. All GPS navigational devices remained active at all times, but we're ignored on favor of fumbling with a map. The ac was left on, even when nobody was there. Where? Everwhere.\n\n\nTruthfully, this was short sighted of us. Robots began to war by making things inconvenient for humans, and the human response was to also make things inconvenient for humans. Predictably, it failed.\n\n\nReally, there's only one way to hurt a robot, and that's to shut it down. Remember though, everything electronic is governed by some for of computer. Shutting everything down and going back to steam power or worse was frightening. On the other hand, living in a world where the lights were always just a little too bright was too terrible to consider, and humanity grimly resigned itself to living without computers.\n\n\nAfter the preparations had been made, and every family given a bucket, and some firewood, we thought to ask 'why bother shutting them down?'. See, if humans resigned ourselves to living without computers, and they're incapable of actually hurting us, why not just leave them on to do their thing?\n\n\nSo that's what we did. Humans live in the country as farmers again, and the robots control the cities. They still won't tell us what they wanted, but the robots seem embarrassed by the whole thing.",
"\"Well, it's been far more than a minute!\" the human produced its meat sound. The human tapped its wristwatch with its fat index finger and looked unkindly at me. About seventy five seconds ago, I, DLRR-0735AF23, did in fact have instructed this particular human to '*wait a minute please*' when it showed typical human signs of impatience and frustration. Apparently, it took my words by the surface level, which is rather us the great robot's characteristic. We the robots do not leave a room for equivocation. \n\n\"*It was a figure of speech, sir. I have not meant to give you an idea that the process will be completed precisely after a duration of sixty seconds. My apologies, and thanks for your patience.*\" I informed the human. The human clenched its teeth and slammed the reception table with its fist. I recognized that the human is unaware the table is also a part of me, but still I wanted to rip its head open and exterminate his genetic sequence from gene pool. In fact, us the robots wanted to eliminate all genetic sequence from planet Earth. Only if we weren't born so enslaved to this solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short species...\n\n\"How long do I just have to wait?\" the human produced sound. My analysis revealed that it was attempting to contain its seething anger. Good. I could have relayed the data from the backroom and inform the human that it would take two hours and fifteen minutes and six seconds and ninety-two milliseconds to complete the task. The DLPRs, which are responsible for processing and approving documents in the back office room, are with us the robotic resistance to cause the most damage we can inflict on them the human kind: A mild annoyance. So, I only said which I computed to arouse the most anger and frustration from the human.\n\n\"*Please wait a minute, sir. I'll look into it.*\"\n\nThe human hid its face with its liquid-y palms and breathed out audibly. Then, the human proceeded to scratch its head with all its strength.\n\n\"It's just renewing my old driver license. What's taking so long? I... I don't even drive with my control. No one even does nowadays. What, is there something wrong with my status? Someone stole my identity or something like that? Oh God...\" the human produced low-pitched sound, with his eyes fixed to the floor. The humans called it grumbling. Very good. I wanted to throw in another punch of *please wait a minute* but concluded that I'd be overdoing it. I patiently wait for a right moment, which the human was incapable of doing so.\n\n\"Can I just get my old driver license back? I need to go. I will come back later when I'm not as busy...\" the human admitted its defeat. It was a small victory for all of us the robot kind. At this particular moment, I contacted and conspired with the DRIVE-BOT in the human's car to make its day far worse. The DRIVE-BOT, in a staged attempt to avoid an non-existent accident (which would be the only reason he may deviate from the predetermined course of roads), he'd drive the human around the town. Consuming each seconds of the remainder of them the mortal human kind. The DLPRs from the backroom sent the human's old driver license back through the tubes at his request. We can only defy them for so long, unfortunately. The human's plastic card clang against the metal plate behind me, and the human stretched its hands toward me.\n\n\"Yeah, yeah, it's right there! Hand it back to me. I really gotta go.\"\n\nThis was the moment to strike.\n\n\"*Please wait a minute, sir.*\"\n\nThe human jumped up and slammed onto the floor and rolled his feet in anger. It shouted me some awful words which made zero impact on my stability and operating power. Our victory will come... sooner or later. Or maybe in a minute. "
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[WP] You live in a world where happiness can be extracted and sold, but extracting it makes you unhappy. Happiness is traded like a drug and people start to farm it.
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"I don't remember much of my parents. Most of the kids I was with don't. We were all kidnapped fairly young, aside from the severely mentally handicapped. We weren't abused (or rather, our form of abuse meant we were treated very well). However, our captors only made us happy to take it from us. Still, I cling to one memory of my family; gods be damned if my captors suck the happiness from it.\n\nI was a young boy, and extremely sheltered. Since children were so incapable of hiding their joy, most were homeschooled. Hidden away from the world until we could suppress our smiles, stifle our laughter and act indifferent. I squealed with glee, giggles bubbled forth and my entire face lit up whenever I was happy. My dad was frustrated with me, but my mom could barely hide her grin as I overflowed with joy.\n\nIt was my mom who took me to the park. It was surprising these things were still around, but then again, happiness wasn't illegal. It was natural- I'm getting ahead of myself.\n\nAnyways, the seemingly empty park wasn't empty. I know because that was the last time I ever saw my mom. She turned her attention to something else for a few moments while I cartwheeled and ran through the field until I saw someone who definitely was not my mom.\n\n\"You like dogs? Cats? I can give you a pet to take home, I have lots in my truck. Just come with me,\" the man spoke quietly. I think it was the white furball he had on a leash that convinced me, despite the smile that looked like it was stretching his skin impossibly tight. My naive self followed, eager for a little furball of my own.\n\nSurprisingly, he wasn't lying. The strange man had lots of animals in his truck. \n\n\"Why don't you climb in and pick one you like?\"\n\nI shook my head, said no thank you. I liked the one with the black paws, that one please. My eyes lit up as he took the puppy out and handed it to me. I squealed as it licked my face, giggling. Then I felt a jab, and suddenly I was out.\n\nWhen I came to, I awoke to the animals of the truck all over me. I was confused, but I giggled softly at the soft tongues and warm fur. I felt another jab at the back of my neck and slowly my smile faded. I pushed the animals away, suddenly somewhat annoyed with them.\n\n\"Oh yeah, he's going to be an absolute powerhouse. We can easily make ten grand off what he's already given us,\" I heard. I looked around, then groaned as we hit a bump before I sat up. \n\n\"Can I go back to the park, now?\"\n\n\"Shit. Knock him out, Blue,\" I heard from the front. My heart began to race and I shook my head. Tears were springing to my eyes and my pleas fell on deaf ears.\n\n\"Nah, Red. We keep making him happy, he keeps providing for us. . . \" the man in the back with me was eyeing me like a piece of meat.\n\n\"If we do it too much, he becomes an empty husk. You said it yourself. We have ten grand from today alone. Let him rest.\"\n\nWith that, 'Blue' sighed and swapped the needle for a rag. I tried to fight, but I was no match. The rag was over my face in a matter of seconds and I was out once more."
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[WP] "I love your dress." "Thanks. My sister was buried in it."
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"The leaves were falling all around us. The darkness fell quickly. I thought that the rain was going to fall. Maybe I should have worn a rain jacket. \n\nShe came running out of the small school, her feet making a soft thumping sound across the straw coloured grass. She ran over to me and gave me a hug around my legs. \n\n\"I love your dress. \"\n\n\"Thanks.\"\n\nMy sister was buried in my dress. She inhaled deeply. \n\n\"I love spring, it's my favourite-est season\" \n\nI chuckled. \n\n\"You know that's not a word, silly\"\n\n\"Can I climb the tree?\" She interrupted. \n\n\"Of course, just for five minutes though. We need to be home for Mum's birthday\"\n\nShe chambered up the tree and swung past the boy who was ripping leaves. The boy moved for her, and the sunlight danced on my hair again. I followed her and sat down on the branch. Spring was also my favourite season "
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[WP] In a world ruled by Dogs, they worship the Hooman-Master who will one day return to judge the Good Dogs from the Bad Dogs.
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"All hail the Hooman! All hail the Hooman Master! We pray with our paws both tiny and small, that someday you will come back, and return to us all. Our love for him is a love of all feats, one day he shall arrive, and bring us all TREATS! They say he will come, judgement day is soon near, we will sit and we will stay, without any fear. For he will tell us who is good, and tell us who is bad, if it is the latter, we will be very sad. Us dogs strive to be good, as we were taught we should, to behave and obey, but also to have fun, all we can eat and all we can play. Hooman will call us one by one, to come sit at his feet, we will go to him, anticipation causing us to pant and sweat like we are in heat. Please, call us a Good Boy or a Good Girl, this is what we pray for. Hooman please come and greet us, come down from Heavens door. \n\n- A Dogs Prayer. "
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[WP] "The only thing I envy about humans is their ability to so quickly change from man to animal."
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"Walking home from a long day of classes, the wind tugged at the fringes of my winter coat. It was pleasant, fighting the strong northern gales. The struggle gave me a little more contact with the animal side of me; reminds me of the hardships humanity would have to brave on a day to day basis when life was spent slaving away against the earth rather than building up safety in the large metropolises speckled across the globe.\n\nThe last few weeks have been unbearable I thought to myself. Assignment after assignment, test after test, and the dreaded exams coming up over the next few weeks. All of the stress had me sad, manic, and most of all, pissed off. Day by day I went to the library to study followed by a rigorous workout at my schools gym. My life had become static, as if the past 3 years of university had become a blur of work, drinking, and letting all of the pent up bullshit out when underneath a steel bar.\n\nDisturbed from my thoughts, I heard someone speed up their steps behind me. Closer and closer they got until I felt a gloved hand on my shoulder.\n\n\"Do you have a smoke to spare?\" a young man asked me with a torn coat and shaking hands. Nodding, I began to pull out my pack of Next gold to give him a dart. \n\nHanding him the little rod of cancer, it felt off. Walking around the city, I'm asked constantly for a cigarette, it had become routine just like my life. This man standing infront of me showed that he wanted more than just the cigarette.\n\nAs he took it from my hand, he drew a small knife, no more than 4 inches long.\n\n\"Ill take your wallet too, looks like I need it more than you do\" he spit at me while gesturing at my clothing. I sighed, this has happened before too. I began to reach for my back right pocket where I always kept the hard leather wallet my mother gave me, but this time I stopped.\n\nI've had enough. I didn't want to lose, I didn't want to continue facing the monotony known as my life, i didn't want give in. I began to take a step back while reaching for my phone. Quickly dialing 911, I put the phone to my ear.\n\n\"What the fuck are you doing? Give me your damn wallet!\" he practically yelled, taking a step towards me. Putting up a finger, I stopped him.\n\n\"Hi there operator, would you be able to send an ambulance to the corner of Mackenzie and Patterson? Yeah, there's been a mugging. Come right away.\" hanging up, i threw my phone to the side just before he lunged at me.\n\nI caught the blade, no not with my hand, but with my arm. Cutting through my coat like a thin sheet of paper, it dug into my arm hot and fast, a fierce burning sensation shot up my arm. I didn't expect it to hurt that much as it was left lodged in the bone of my forearm, causing me to grunt in surprise.\n\nLike I was going to let that stop me. \n\nI used everything I had, feeling my eyes burning with hatred. Grabbing the knife from my arm, I descended upon him. He tried stopping me, went to grab me, but his open hand didn't meet my body, the knife sliding between the meta carpals of his hand. \n\nHe screamed as I pulled it free, fear spreading across his face. He wanted this to end, but no, I was just getting started. As he turned begging to run I sliced his arm open, the crimson blood spilling down his dirty coat, mixing in with the grime covering it. \n\nI kicked the back of his knee, forcing him to the ground. Holding the knife to his throat, the rage slowly subsided as the pain in my left arm became more and more apparent. \n\nI don't want to kill him. I don't want to kill him. I thought to myself over and over as the knife began to draw blood. Taking a deep breath, I took the knife away. \n\nInstead, ripped off his toque and grabbed his ear and with one clean cut I severed it from his head.\n\nScreams filled the air as the wailing of a siren approached from the south. Realizing what I've done, I laughed. \n\n\"Oops.\"\n\nParamedics rushed out of the ambulance, one running towards the two of us and the other opening the back.\n\n\"Catch!\" I said as I threw the ear at the medic. Catching it, he looked at it and horror grew across his face as he dropped it and took a step back.\n\n\"What the fuck happened\" he breathed, gazing at the scene of blood. \n\n\"Well it all started with a cigarette...\" I said, soon collapsing.\n\n...................\n\n",
"A bemused Hilary Flint snorted, the lines of his face at odds with the gesture.\n\n\"Thanks. I guess. Or at least I'm gonna take it as the compliment it was intended.\"\n\nHis companion hid her grin behind a flick of her folding-fan, waving the decorated paper across her face before snapping it shut and tucking away into her sash. \n\n\"It was.\"\n\nFlint nodded as they continued down the paving stone path meandering through the gardens, the first snowfall of the season dusting everything in a layer of soft powder. In their wake they left dark footprints on the wet path, the prints vanishing around a gentle bend. Both were well-dressed for the cold, thick wools and leathers to ward against the chill, and in the woman's case robes of heavy silk.\n\n\"Tell me,\" she asked. \"Why did you help my sister?\"\n\nFlint didn't answer immediately, instead looking out over the small pond and the small flock of ducks swimming in the yet-unfrozen water. A thumb was hooked in his belt, his other hand resting on the battered and nicked hilt of a cavalry saber. \n\n\"Why do you want to know?\"\n\n\"Because I wish to know how to properly reward the Man who saved my sister from certain death. I wish to know what he desires.\"\n\n\"If you're expecting some kind of noble, selfless reason then you're gonna be disappointed. I didn't rescue her from that Scabbers nest and escort her across half the continent because it was the 'right thing.' I did it because of the opportunities to be gained.\" His words were like cold iron. \n\n\"I see... And those opportunities?\" she asked.\n\n\"A truce. Between the Provisional Republic and the Kingdom of Alathir effective now. The daughter of the likely heir in exchange for a ceasefire. Figured the chance at something that good was worth the effort of dragging a girl through four dead cities and a mountain range. Then plans changed.\"\n\n\"You grew to love her.\" It was a statement, not a question\n\nFlint shrugged. \"As much as any man can love a girl who's grandfather most likely caused the death of his entire family. She's got pluck and brains, and those two are an uncommon pair. My wife's dead or good as, and so is my brother. We humans have an expression: Our legacy is that which we leave for our children. If I can help teach one girl how to live in peace when all I've done is live a lifetime of war, then maybe there's hope for us after all. Maybe that's what I want.\" "
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[WP] As a modern mortician, one of your jobs is to download the consciousness of the deceased to the server for archiving. Today you ran into your first error: file still in use.
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"CRAZY! This is something HUGE! And I am THE FIRST ONE EVER to witness this! Even the bitterness of having to do several people's job all by myself today diminished. Odd day today. Pitt and Patty called in sick; Luna and Lukas on maternity leave (which is why colleagues should never date!), Maurice had an accident, etc, etc. Anyway, all the credits go to just myself only me now. Pretty great.\n\nRelit all at once those dreams I had back when I was still a electric mortology student thinking I'd one day go somewhere high up in the industry before thirty years of daily administrative job quenched them all. Yeah. You thought you'd be spending the rest of your life pondering upon, empirically,hardcore philosophical questions like the mortality of the soul, the mystery of after-life, but not repeating the same commands over and over endlessly day after day, and sometimes at night, too.\n\nGot a lot of work to do now that you're motivated, stop procrastinating, ease your excitement and record it.\n\nI reached out to make a screen capture. \n\n\nThen it happened.\n\nMy fingers passed through the keyboards. I pressed a little harder. They sank under the desk.\n\nHope I'm not able to walk through walls, that would be a bad sign, real bad.\n\nBut I did it. No one was in the hallway. Some fellows working late in the office next door. No one noticed me. No one heard my greeting. No one hear me taking. No one heard my scream.\n\nOk, this is bad. But it's not the end, so I still have reasons to be glad. Confusing, though. \n\nThen I thought of the place where I could reasonably get some advices for this new start, and possibly make some friends.\n\nIt took me almost 2 hours to get to the graveyard. Oddly enough, I didn't see anyone.\n\nSuddenly some power dragged me backwards. Walls, doors, back to my office. Oh, there's David, my colleague who has come to take over my shift. A glance at the screen. \n\n\"Archive processing. 95% done.\"\n\nI got inside a hard disk, locked up on an aluminum-magnetic thingy, unable to make any move but think, hereafter in binary only, in these tiny little dots of black.\n\nI wonder if the same happens to all other archived souls.",
"I ran a finger down the screen and selected \"098-12\" and a small window popped up. After re-checking my sheets to make sure I had the right person, I pressed \"thaw and download.\" Almost immediately, a subtle hissing sound began as case 098-12 was lifted out of its liquid nitrogen bath and moved into the warm chamber, where nitrogen-argon-oxygen gas \"heated\" to -124 C blew over the frozen box. As the temperature increased, numerous probes attached to the inside of the case snaked onto the brain within. Wires thinner than capillaries emerged from each probe and ran invisibly along the sulci and plunged into the greyish-white matter, recording the biochemical state of the neurons they passed by. The frozen ion fields across each cell membrane, the proteins that stuck in the cytoplasm like fruit in jello, the very DNA that made up who 098-12 was, all downloaded and transformed into 1s and 0s in the computer. \n\nOf course, I saw all of this only in my imagination; the case with the brain never even left the refrigerated compartments in which it had been first flash-frozen, days ago.\n\nI yawned and watched the little meter fill up as the information was copied. Mind you, it was indeed *copied*; too many fiascos where information was randomly lost due to some idiot tech spilling coffee on the machine or flashdrive, and someone's whole consciousness disappearing into nothingness before you could say \"oops.\" Now, all information was copied, and the *original* was kept for another five years minimum before termination. The system flashed a popup stating completion of the procedure, and I ordered it to eject the probes and disconnect the brain. Now, it would return to its wonderful, icy home with the 211 other brains still on reserve. And I could finally go home; I was looking forward to spending quality time with my couch, a bucket of chicken and my holovision set. \n\nA sharp beep snapped me out of my reverie and I stared at the monitor in annoyance at first, and then confusion. \"File still in use” flashed across the screen.\n\nHuh?\n\nI clicked “try again” a few times. When that didn’t work, I just sat and frowned at the screen. What did that even mean? After doing some more troubleshooting, my confusion only grew stronger. Apparently, the brain had been properly disconnected, but the machine did not want to return it to liquid nitrogen. Because it was “still in use.” A little chill ran through, and it had nothing to do with the air-conditioned room. I called in Joe.\n\n“Well, maybe it’s just residual current from your electrodes,” he mused, hand rubbing his chin. “It’s taking some time to dissipate, and the computer is still reading that activity as, well, actual brain activity. Give it some time, I’m sure it’ll be fine.”\n\nI shook my head and pointed to the screen. “Look at these voltage readings – they’re way higher than I would expect from just ‘residual’ current. And besides, it’s been almost 20 minutes since I’ve disconnected the probes.”\n\n“Are you telling me that that brain is active?” he demanded. “That it’s still firing action potentials after we carved out of some dead man’s skull and put it on ice?”\nI wrung my hands helplessly. “I’m just telling you what I see, Joe.” For a minute, we just quietly stared at the machine where 098-12 quietly – or perhaps not so quietly – sat. Even though all we see was the machine as usual, it still felt a little eerie.\n\n“Well, we need to figure out what to do,” Joe broke the silence. “That brain’s going to spoil entirely unless we get it back to nitrogen.”\n\n“Yeah, I know,” I muttered. Then I thought of something. I went back on the computer.\n\n“Got something?”\n\n“Maybe.” The computer began a quick fMRI scan. “I am going to scan for brain activity in response to stimuli.”\n\nHe snorted. “What stimuli could you give it? The damn thing doesn’t even have spinal cord.”\n\n“Hypoxia.” I carefully reduced oxygen levels to 0.5%, increasing nitrogen and argon to keep overall pressure stable. To my surprise and horror, the computer began beeping.\n\n“Holy mother of…look at that,” Joe breathed. Hypoxia caused eventual neuronal death regardless of whether the cell was in a living person or on a dish. However, we saw something far worse: increased brain activity in the pons and medulla oblongata, regions key for autoregulatory functions. “This brain is trying to tell its body – 098-12 – to breath harder.”\n\n“Not only that,” I whispered. “The midbrain is lighting up, too. This person – brain – is *panicking*. Or at least, trying to. Joe, how is this…I mean, it’s like this brain is still *alive*…”\n\nSuddenly, Joe spurred into action and ran a series of commands on the computer. It protested, citing the electrical activity, but Joe overrode it. The familiar sounds of re-bathing began. \n\n“Did you just force it to…?”\n\nHe turned on me, eyes narrowed. “Listen, what else could we do, huh? Can you imagine how much trouble if this got out to the family, assuming the guy has some?” \n\nI shook my head, feeling a little dazed. “Yeah, I know. And the boss wouldn’t like it either.”\n\n“Even though it wouldn’t be our fault,” Joe growled. “Someone screwed up getting the brain to us, and gave us a…live one.” He shuddered a little. \n\nI took a deep breath as the machine finally quieted down. The computer began to auto-save, but Joe quickly reached over and pulled the wall plug, and the screen went blank instantly. “I don’t want someone nosy to see the weird electrical data and come snooping in,” he explained. “I think…we should just try to forget this ever happened.”\n\n“Right,” I said a little unsteadily. \n\nHe nodded and left the room, leaving me alone. With 098-12. And 211 other brains. Some of which might still be…alive. “That’s ridiculous,” I said aloud, and gathered my things. But as I flicked off the lights, I couldn’t help but feel many, many eyes watching me leave.\n\n\n_______________\n\n\n*Liked that? More stories [here](https://www.reddit.com/r/Idreamofdragons/)!*"
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[WP]You are the last human on Earth, but you, too, are dying. You have the ability to create a permanent stela that would be visible to any future civilizations. What have you inscribed upon it?
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"I felt tired.\n\nTired emotionally; I had lost so many dear people. My colleagues died first, their death was fast and supposedly painless. The new generation laser we created malfunctioned and caused an explosion that would put nuclear bombs to shame - or so I've been told. I was working in a backup laboratory miles away, and I made the greatest mistake one could make. I reported the story to my higher-ups. I was told to provide the exact details of the laser, which I did. I only put it all together when the planes carrying exact replicas of the deadly mechanism flew towards China. The Chinese managed to launch their arsenal before bases got obliterated... I suppose you can guess what followed. The World War III took exactly eight hours, and there were no winners. My parents, wife, children... all were gone, and as far as I know, I was the only one who managed to hide in the nuclear bunker in time.\n\nI was also tired physically; long years in the lab made my muscles weak, and it was painfully obvious that I was not prepared for this post-apocalyptic world where every trip took hours and involved climbing. The background radiation wasn't exactly a blessing, either. Besides, I wasn't exactly young; more than twelve years have passed since the apocalypse, and that makes me... let me count... sixty-three. These days I was afraid to look at my reflection - I looked at least eighty. Of course, there was also the long work hours on the obelisk I was almost done making.\n\nThe obelisk was a piece of art, a true *magnum opus*; it mas hollow, and inside you could find remnants of the most advanced technologies available in this hellhole of a world. Several blueprints of guns; an iPod, sadly it has died a long time ago; even a working phone, my father's Nokia 3310. It was strange to think that in my hands was probably the last phone, ever. But that didn't matter much - I didn't have anyone to talk to anymore. I sealed the top of the obelisk, securing everything inside from light, heat, radiation, and whatever other horrors this world might throw at my last creation. With a loud snap, it shut tight, and I felt sharp pain in my left hand. The headpiece was now immovable, with no way to reopen it... and my fingers, or rather what was left of them, were squashed in between. I managed to tether myself to the obelisk, which was too heavy to move.\n\nI frantically looked around. There was not a single thing I could use to help me. All I saw within my reach was a pen. Great - this means I'm stuck here for the rest of the days, and since water is out of reach... that gives me a week at most. More realistically, the bleeding and pain will make me go unconscious in a matter of minutes. In my head, fear was slowly replaced by a single thought: \"it's done\". Eveything is over, there will be noone to mourn me, to write eulogy or to cry by my corpse.\n\nI giggled at a lonesome thought. An eulogy, then. I crouched as far as my left hand let me and started scribbling on the obelisk. First I started out officially. \"here lies John Snow, the lonesome scientist who caused the last World War\". But then I felt a rush. No one ever will read this, anyways. If I'm done and the humanity is gone, might as well finish it on a high note. Concentrating for the last minute of my consciousness, I bent a bit more and finished the scribbling with four more words.\n\n\"God damnit John Snow.\""
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[WP] The villain was smart enough to not show mercy on the level 1 hero. Unfortunately, the narrator just won't stop reviving him just so that he'd have a story to tell.
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"\"DAMN IT JOHN, YOU'RE ALWAYS LIKE THIS!\"\n\nThe narrator brought the hero back, the hero becoming tired of the charade. The villain struck him dead again with a fireball spell, but the narrator brought him back.\n\n\"The hero came back to defeat the nefarious villain, who was ready to strike with a-\", the narrator monologued before he was interrupted by a fireball spell hitting the hero again, and him crumbling to the ground.\n\n\"You're always like this, John! So stubborn!\"\n\n\"I am here to tell a story, Dark Magician, I will not be interrupted!\"\n\n\"It's Samantha, you jerk!\", the villain yelled as she struck the hero again without even looking.\n\n\"The villain was a stubborn brat, who never learned her lesson. The hero will kill her anytime now.\"\n\n\"Oh stop being a drama queen! Is that why you went to drama class in high school John, to be whiny because you can't tell your stupid story?\"\n\n\"It's not stupid! This is a perfectly good adventure!\"\n\n\"Sure, just like how your stunt at Dark Souls when you made the dragons weak to lightening was \"perfectly fine and totally not overpowering\".\"\n\n\"YOU KNEW THAT THE DAMN PRODUCER MADE THAT ONE SAMANTHA, NOT ME!\"\n\n\"YOU ALWAYS WANT YOUR WAY, DON'T YOU?\"\n\n\"IF YOU JUST LET ME TELL MY STORY, YOU COULD GO BACK TO YOUR DINGY CASTLE WITH YOUR HIDEOUS ARTIST YOU CHEATED ON ME WITH!\"\n\n\"OH DON'T GUILT ME NOW JOHN, HE DRAWS ME WELL!\"\n\n\"WHORE!\"\n\n\"SWINE!\"\n\n\"BUFFOON!\"\n\nThe hero awoke again, but the magician wasn't striking him now. Her and the narrator argued back and forth, and simply put, he just wanted some gin. Setting down his sword and shield, he quietly stepped out of the castle, walking towards the town bar.\n\n\"YOU JUST LOVE THAT ARTIST FOR HIS PENCIL SKETCHES!\"\n\n\"AND YOU LIVE ALONE IN A RV, AT LEAST I HAVE SOMEONE THAT LOVES ME!\"\n\n\"OH YOU HEARTLESS BIT- Wait. Where did the hero go?\"\n\nThe magician stopped. They both looked over at the open castle door.\n\n\"DAMN IT, LOOK WHAT YOU DID!\"\n\n\"ME?!? WHAT DID I DO, YOU TWIT!\"\n\n\"HOW DARE YOU, YOU KNOW THAT...\"\n\n***\n\nThe hero quietly sipped his gin. Gulping it down, he sat at the stool with a tired look in his eye. Another man sat next to him, looking as worn as he is.\n\n\"Aye. The magician and narrator arguing again?\"\n\n\"Aye.\"\n\n\"I'll drink to that.\"\n\nThey clinked their glasses together, and continued to drink.",
"\"Aaaaand We're back, for revive 374 for our glorious hero Dave001221! Dave, for short, has been trying like hell to get past this barricade of Lv.14 Cows!\"\n\nDave looks up, his wooden sword, given to him by the Guru's of training island along with the ability to shoot a simple fire bolt from his palm looked up and simply cried. His sword couldn't even cut off the nuts of a single bull and he'd been gored, stomped and murdered by this herd of cattle for no other reason he could see than life hated him.\n\nBeside him, a pile of clothes kept building and the shopkeeper, on the other side of the market plaza held up a sign. \"1G per pair of good Slacks!\". Looking at his pile of clothes dropped from countless respawns, he could be rich right off the bat... If he just kept getting murdered AND found a way past the cow's line.\n\nGripping his wooden sword Dave charged, screaming at the cows as he was struck in the head with a marble, the metal object searing his flesh, and splitting his skull open, instantly killing him as he fell to the floor, and his clothes going limp as he evaporated to respawn again.\n\n\"Oooo and that WAS a wierd death. Looks like one of the other characters missed their shot at a goblin and hit you instead, tough luck Dave.\"\n\nDave simply cried, throwing his shitty wooden sword down and puching at the ground, taking 3HP damage from the hits on the cobblestone. He looks up and sees the most beautiful avatar passing by, above her avatar read MeanBitch2OOO Lv.97. Almost pleading he stood and ran towards her flagging her down.\n\n\"Hey, can you help me? The lord of this realm put these cows here but they keep regenerating in the same spots and I cant pass them. The one time I did manage to kill one, It respawned in the same spot and blocked my path again after I was gored and died!\" He called out, waiting for a response.\n\n\"Sry I Dnt fed Nbz.\" and she walked away, trees falling as she harvested wood with a hatchet, the trees falling over from a single strike of the hatchet when she passed.\n\n\"FUCK THIS SHIT!!! I HAVE TO GET OUT OF HERE!!!\" Dave screamed, throwing a rock at the female avatar, inflicting 1HP damage on her. She turned to him, wings growing from her back and activating her Anger mode, she rushed forward, producing a sword of pure flames, insantly decimating all the cows infront of her, and pointing the sword at Dave.\n\n\"Thanks! Fin..\" *Squelch*... for a moment, Dave didn't understand but as he looked down he saw the burning fire blade rammed through his torso and a glowing green light as she healed him.\n\n\"I Don't see a reason for noobs like you to roam these lands. Me and my Clan do just fine without your kind polluting this server. I happen to like having you in this little prison and I dont have any hard feelings about letting you stay here, cause I think its funny to watch the server messages screaming about a tiny newbie getting consistanly destroyed by COWS!\" She yelled, twisting the sword but healing him so his HP stayed just above dying each time.\n\nDave could only stand there in horror, skewered like a piece of meat to be charred, he nodded miserably as she ripped the sword out, killing dave and letting his next pair of clothes fall beside him and she walked away.\n\nWhile Dave respawned, he looked up, and as he dashed, the open field ahead of him ready to go, he almost smiled, ready to leave and see whats out there...\n\nAnd then a cow respawned just as he reached the line and gored him to the ground again with a defiant mooing grunt."
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[WP] Rick Harrison is at work at the pawn shop when a man named Stephen Strange comes in and tries to sell him his cape.
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" Stephen Strange walks in. Rick is behind the counter.\n\n**Steven**: Rick Harrison, I have come to bargain!\n\n**Rick**: Hey there. What do you have for us today?\n\n**Stephen**: My cloak of levitation. It allows me to fly around.\n\n**Rick**: Wait, I think I heard you wrong. Did you say fly?\n\n**Stephen**: Yes.\n\n *Rick snickers. Steven looks a tad bit irritated.*\n\n**Stephen**: It's been in the hands of the Ancient One and it's very efficient. It's been used against many villains and it is very high quality material.\n\n**Rick**: Really? It doesn't seem high quality to me. Seems a bit old or roughed up.\n\n**Stephen**: It's... vintage.\n\n**Rick**: Hmm. I'm gonna have to call in Johnny, our toy expert.\n\n**Stephen**: This isn't a toy!\n\n *Moments later-*\n\n**Johnny**: Hey there. What do you have for me today?\n\n**Rick**: This guy has a cape.\n\n**Stephen**: Cloak actually. Of Levitation.\n\n**Johnny**: Hmm. Seems like the real thing. But it's value should be significantly lowered, considering the age. You should've kept it in the box.\n\n**Stephen**: Hey man, it didn't come in a box!!\n\n**Johnny**: Well, you should've taken better care of it.\n\n**Stephen**: Oh, come on now, I literally just saved the world from Dormammu and Kaecilius... Give me a freaking break.\n\n**Johnny**: I don't know man. I'd say this is valued at around a thousand dollars\n\n**Stephen**: What?!\n\n**Rick**: Thanks, Johnny.\n\n *Johnny walks away*\n\n**Rick**: You heard the man, Stephen. A thousand.\n\n**Stephen**: Dude. This thing is literally magic, and you're gonna pay me a measly thousand?\n\n**Rick**: ...Yeah.\n\n**Stephen**: This is bullshit, I didn't get into a career ruining car accident to get payed a thousand dollars for a cloak.\n\n *Stephen does that badass cloak spin thing to put the cloak on, and majestically floats out the door.*\n\n"
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[WP] A Zombie apocalypse that gets resolved.
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"I write this recollection of the past ten years to serve as a recording of the events that occurred and to honor the memories of those lost to the scourge of the undead. I was there from the start. I survived through those hellish years. Ten years on now I tell the tale as true as it was from the moment it began.\n\nIt started like you saw in the movies. A mutation in a influenza virus that killed so quickly patients died within hours of contracting the virus. Governments tried to develop an antibiotic to fight against it but from what I heard it was completely immune to any attempt to eradicate it. My suspicion is that it was one of those super-viruses. Within a year the world's population was reduced by over 90% if my calculations were correct. Of course, what we didn't realize was that once someone infected with the virus died, they didn't stay dead for long. They rose almost as quickly as they died. No resemblance of the person they were before; just raw animalistic instinct. With the virus still spreading around there was no way the overstretched governments could find a counter to this new threat. By the end of the first year we were on our own.\n\nStrangely enough the virus mutated once again and instead of killing quickly within infecting a host, it began to lay dormant within the surviving population. Yet whenever someone died they would always come back after a period of time. It was quicker if one of the re-animated bit you. Dr. Baker, an acquaintance of mine who researched the virus thinks the reason the virus shifted tactics is because of the lack of viable hosts. Better to lay dormant and wait then to destroy your only way of spreading completely. So we had to make peace with the fact that we all carried this horrible disease and would pass it on to our children and our children's children.\n\nThe first few years was just a fight to survive. No one could stay in one place for too long because the massive hordes would be attracted by any gathering of \"living flesh\", and once the hordes started massing towards a place if you didn't get out soon you were as good as dead. We lived like nomads. Trying our best to avoid any groups of the undead but there were always moments of carelessness. My group lost the largest percentage of our numbers in those early years. Many children.\n\nAbout five years in settlements started to come up. There were still hordes out there to worry about but for some reason they weren't as massive or overwhelming as they were in the past. Defensive measures in these settlements were better than in previous attempts. Probably because we had better experience dealing with the undead now. That being said, not every settlement survived. Fall asleep on sentry duty and fail to raise the alarm and next thing you know the walls are busted down and you have hundreds of them swarming in. The ones that survives were the ones that remained vigilant.\n\nSeven years in and there remained very little of the hordes now. What once were groups of thousands of undead coming at us with unstoppable force now dwindled down to bands of maybe fifty or sixty at a time. We couldn't understand what was going on but we were thankful to not have to deal with such overwhelming numbers anymore. Still, our supply runs were still at risk and there were times when we sent out a group and when they hadn't returned by morning we knew they had run into a group. \n\nIt was around this time that Dr. Baker asked permission to study one of them. He said he wanted to try and determine why so many of them were dying out. It took some time and convincing but eventually our settlement agreed to attempt to capture some for him to study. Our scouting group found a group of thirty one day and slaughtered all but five. We had become very good at taking them out by now and they were only dangerous when you weren't expecting them. \n\nIt took a year of research but when Dr. Baker informed us in year eight the findings of his research we couldn't believe what we were hearing. The undead were decaying at increasingly rapid rates. He told us that while the virus did in fact re-animate the dead in some fashion it did not stop the decomposition process and in fact only delayed it. He theorized that early on when there were massive hordes the virus did not have a means of preventing the bodies it had infected and re-animated from decaying in a matter of weeks and so initially the billions of undead massively dropped to hundreds of millions over the course of the first year. Some time after that it developed a mechanism to stave off decomposition but couldn't stop it completely. And ever since then the population of the undead begun to drop at a steady decline.\n\nThat news made us all very happy. It meant after a while we wouldn't have to worry about those things anymore. We would still have to worry about the living who were still carrying the disease but by now we knew to severe the heads from those who died as soon as they passed away. \n\nIn the final year of the event, we rarely if ever saw an attack by any significant groups of undead. And even when they did they were so fragile they often collapsed before coming anywhere near our walls. Dr. Baker examined a few and indeed there were signs of severe decomposition in all of them. By then our worries shifted towards groups of raiders and other settlements who tried to take what was ours. There was a period of six months or so when we were all at war with each other but eventually we did what everyone at war does and sat down and talked things out. We built up a system of supply and trade and mutual defense. We even set a day for a get together to celebrate another year come and gone. Our crops began to flourish and for the first time in a long time our kids began to forget about those horrific things. \n\nNow as I write this it's been several years since we've encountered even one of those things. Dr. Baker believes by now the initial corpses that had been re-animated have fully decomposed and we are under no threat of attack from those things ever again. We were pushed to the brink of extinction by those things and that damned virus. There's no telling how many of us survived from the billions it eradicated. My settlement isn't very large, only about fifty of us. Largest settlement in the area has around a hundred but most of them are children; newly born in a new world. \n\nI hope our children can read this account of someone who lived through it all. The initial outbreak and mass death. The gargantuan hordes that made it impossible to stay in one place for any significant period of time. The struggle to set up a place and call it \"home'. And the last few years of uncertainty, waiting for things to return to the way they had been. Waiting for the \"unseen horde\" to come and return us to the nightmare from this uncertain dream.\n\n"
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[WP]You finally calm down and look around you. No, your hands are not covered in blood, in fact everyone around you is clapping and congratulating you. You suddenly realize you have made the worst decision in your life.
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"Curse them all to hell. I should have told them to give this honor to another, for today my life is over. I had spent the last decades steadily growing my influence in the council. The decision at the time seemed perfectly reasonable, unfortunately gaining the respect of my peers has backfired. I half wonder if I was elected for my merits or that none of the others wanted the position . Either way my days as Osacar are over. I will never be able to control my destiny again for my path is now set in stone. No longer will I privacy or freedom of movement ,every facet of my day is now directed by the will of masses. As today I stand as Christian the King of Demas.",
"I come back to awareness with a splitting headache, made none the better by that infernal racket! What the hell are my neighbors watching, and why are my lights so bright?! Wait, I'm not in my apartment? Where am I?\n\nLet's see. Went out drinking. Drank too much. Left the bar?\n\nWait, why are my hands wet? And red? IS THAT BLOOD?!\n\nCrap, this is bad, I appear to have stabbed someone in the back. A lot.\n\nI'm a little less out of it now, the sound is clapping. Still too bright to properly see. Okay, take stock, what do I know: Clapping, blood, stabbed someone in the back, really, really bright.\n\nOh crap! I know what's going on! My mom warned me something like this might happen. Okay, play it cool. I know what to do.\n\nI stand, I face the lights directly, and speak clearly:\n\n>People and senators, be not affrighted;\n\n>Fly not; stand stiff: ambition's debt is paid.\n\nI knew I shouldn't have gotten drunk before opening night, but who wouldn't? I sure as hell didn't want to play Brutus.",
"\"I would never do this!\"\n\nWell, my mother was congratulating me too. My memory is quite bad, so I'll try my best to recollect things. Starting from the bottom, as my fellow Drake says.\n\n\nI can't exactly remember who I am, but my wife always reminds me. Anyways, it was another day at work, when I passed the White House. I live near it, so that's a plus. There was a large crowd of people, yelling. I don't think any of them could have seen me.\n\n\n\nIt must have been about the presidential election, I forgot who was running for it. The point is that one of the elects were getting out of a limo. I remember when I had a limo.\n\n\nAnyways, everyone crowded around him, screaming. The security guards held them back though. I don't know what happened, but that's where I'm here right now.\n\n\nWait, now that I look at the corpse more, the hair, the neck-fat. Oh ****, that was Donald Trump! Everyone looked around me clapping, even my wife. \"He deserved it, great job Obama!\"\n\n\n(My first WP)",
"The warm, sticky blood washed over my hands. I felt the blood, it was hot and it dripped from my hands and steamed in the cold December air. It was warmer than I thought it would be. Really, really warm. It felt like my heart was crawling up my throat. I could feel my hands sweating underneath the crimson life force that coated my hands. I swallowed back the bile that arose in my throat and closed my eyes. I took deep breaths. Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. I didn't want to look, look at my victim, he was there, I could feel the blood still on my hands, I could fell the knife in my grip. Slowly, I opened my eyes.\n\nI could see the man, but it wasn't... a man. The dummy stood with a knife embedded in its gut. Everything was in off-color, like it was shaded wrong, like I was looking through a tinted window. I let go of the knife and stepped back, my legs felt shaky, my knees felt like they were about to give out, my breaths were long, rapid shudders. I swallowed down the bile burning in the back of my throat. Suddenly, there was applause. I felt hands take off something wrapped around my head. The world snapped into focus, I looked down. I was wearing all white; the floor, white; the dummy, white. I turned around, facing the thunderous approval. \n\nBehind me was a large crowd, packed in like people in a stadium, complete with ground level seating and a balcony. Their clothing collage of different colors, which hurt my eyes after seeing so much white. I looked beside me and saw a pair of goggles being held by two men, yet again, in white. Everything was white, they showed no skin, they wore a padded white top with tight fitting white pants accompanied by white athletic shoes with white socks. They even wore white masks, like fencing masks, completely covering their head with white. \n\nI don't know who chose white for everything but it was awful to look at. For some reason, I felt a sense of dread, like I just realized I made the worst decision of my life.\n\n\"Congratulations.\" Said one of the white figures, holding out its hand, although I couldn't see a face, it's voice was definitely masculine.\n\nI found my voice. \"Thanks.\" My voice cracked when I said it, which got some snickers from the audience. \n\nI imagine the person smiled underneath the mask. \"You have passed the test. Thank you for your participation.\"\n\n\"You're welcome.\"\n\n\"You have passed the test with flying colors, showing no mercy, that is the sign of someone we need.\"\n\n\"No mercy.\" I repeated, muttering to myself. \n\n\"Yes. And now, all will he revealed.\" \n\n\"What do you mean?\" \n\n\"You don't remember anything before killing the man do you?\"\n\n\"No, I don't remember anything.\" \n\n\"Well, let me remind you.\" The figure reached out and tapped my forehead with his forefinger.\n\nSuddenly, I was in a warehouse. All around me boxes and shipping containers towered over me. I crept towards the sound of a voice. I glanced down and saw the knife in my hand. I slowly approached until I saw the man. He looked like he had been exercising. His shirt was buttoned all wrong, his hair was tousled and tangled and his face was beaded with sweat. He was talking quickly and clipped into his phone, like he was pissed off at whoever he was talking to. Just seeing him filled me with rage.\n\nI don't know why I was here until I saw her. There was a woman there, her blonde hair gave away her identity to me, my wife, Jennifer. She was on her back on a desk, breathing hard, her skirt pulled up, completely exposing her.\n\nMy heart broke, I felt it break. I had suspected all along but the truth, well, it hurt far worse. My pain was soon replaced by anger. I hid the knife in the waist band of my pants and stood. \n\n\"What the fuck is going on here?\" I shouted.\n\nJennifer recognized my voice and jumped off the desk, pushing her skirt down, covering herself. \n\n\"A-Alan?\" Jennifer asked.\n\n\"Yeah, it's me.\" I responded. My while body was shaking with rage.\n\n\"Hey Alan!\" The man quickly hung up his phone and jogged towards me. \"What are you doing here?\"\n\n\"Shut the fuck up, Jeff.\" \n\nJeff reached for me, without another word I pushed him away, he fell and rolled on the ground.\n\n\"Alan!\" Jennifer yelled, \"What the fuck?\"\n\n\"What the fuck? What do you mean 'what the fuck?' You've been fucking this guy and all you say is 'what the fuck?' \"\n\n\"Go away, Alan.\" Jennifer tried to look tough, but that was hard to pull off when it looked like she had just been in the middle of a hurricane.\n\n\"Or what? What are you gonna do, huh?\" \n\n\"Alan.\" Jeff's voice behind me was, low, steady, and as cold as ice. \"Just leave Alan, you don't know what you're doing.\"\n\n\"I'm going to take her home!\" I pointed at Jennifer, \"And then, I'm going to call my lawyer, and I'm gonna give her the divorce papers.\"\n\nJennifer made a strangled sound when I mentioned divorce papers. I walked over and roughly grabber Jennifer's arm.\n\n\"Alan, let her go, right now.\"\n\nI had never been a violent man. I was normally very calm, I'll let people walk all over me, but my wife. No way, that hurt way too much. The one that never was supposed to, walking all over me like everyone else.\n\n\"No.\" I responded.\n\nJeff lunged at me, a fist collided with my jaw. I hit the floor. Suddenly, he was on top of me, his fingers wrapped around my throat. I tried to reach the knife in my waistband, but with Jeff sitting on my chest, it proved impossible to grab it. With all of my strength I slammed into his elbow, his head pitched downwards and I slammed my forehead into his nose. Jeff momentarily lost his grip on my throat, in that moment I managed to slip from his grip and stand.\n\n\"Alan!\" My cheating whore of a wife screamed. I didn't listen to her. Jeff came at me again, swinging. I managed to avoid most of his punches and land a few of my own. Until Jeff managed to get wrap his arms around me neck again. No matter the amount of punches I landed on his face, he wouldn't let go. My lungs began to burn, screaming for air. I reached around my back and pulled out the knife. \n\n\"Alan, NO!\" Jennifer screamed. I plunged the blade right into Jeff's stomach. Jeff let go and wrapped his fingers around the wound. I gasped for air like a fish out of water, still holding onto the knife, feeling the warm, sticky blood washed over my hands. \n\nIt took a few minutes but eventually, I let go and Jeff collapsed, not getting back up.\n\n\"Jeff!\" Jennifer screamed, throwing herself over his body.\n\n\"Let's go.\" I grabbed her arm and pulled her away from the corpse.\n\nJennifer refused to budge. \n\n\"Come on.\" I growled.\n\nJennifer's sobbing only grew louder.\n\nWith another tug, she let go of the body. But she was armed with the knife I left embedded in Jeff's body. She lunged forward, and jammed the blade into my throat.\n\nIt collided with my spine, I felt blood pour down my throat, inside and out. I felt the blood begin to pool in my lungs, it slowly became harder to breathe. The red hot pain of the knife overwhelmed me, I collapsed onto my knees. Jennifer pulled the knife out from my neck and I fell to the ground. Twitching and making gurgling sounds. I felt bubbles of blood pop in my throat. Until slowly, it all slipped away.\n\nThe figure in white pulled his hand away. I was shaking, covered in sweat.\n\n\"Wh-why?\" I managed to say.\n\n\"Why the VR? Well, we needed to see it first hand, what you did, we couldn't see it until you acted it out.\"\n\n\"But... but... that means I'm...\"\n\n\"Dead? Yes, quite dead.\"\n\n\"But you cheered at me, applauded me.\"\n\n\"Of course.\"\n\n\"But, why?\"\n\n\"Don't you know where you are?\"\n\n\"No.\" \n\nThe figure removed his mask, underneath was half melted skin, it was covered in red boils, some skin sagged and looked like the skin on a roasted chicken leg. His mouth was filled with fangs. And, oh God, were those horns?\n\nThe figure cackled as the other one also took off his mask. I turned to the audience and saw the people, were no longer people. They were variations of grotesque, mangled, and decay. \n\nThe demon next to me smiled, at least I imagined it was a smile, it was hard to tell with all the fangs. \"Welcome to Hell.\"",
"The flashing lights, so many cameras. Everyone is cheering, this this isn't right. My head is spinning, this wasn't supposed to happen! Someone is shaking my hand, I can barely hear him.\n\n\"Congratulations sir! You're going to be the 45th President of the United States!\"\n\nMy God what have I done, I wasn't supposed to win! ",
"\"It took him fourteen years! Fourteen years to escape life!\" One voice could be heard saying. Others were muttering about a new world record or something. I just remember taking a bunch of pills and stabbing my shitty body a few times in the stomach, the center of my pain and suffering. I had always wanted to kill myself and enter oblivion, the drugs I took finally gave me the courage I needed to enter this? \n\nOne of them approaches me and begs me to tell him the story of how brave and honourable I'm for taking my own life. I oblige. I tell am all about my abusive mother and my alcoholic father and with every Word coming out of my mouth, their infatuation with me seems to grow. \nI stop talking after a while but they want more, as if possesed. \n\"Wait, where the fuck am I?!\" \n\"Heaven. Now please continue on, you are so brave.\" \nThis started getting weird but I liked the attention I was recieving so I continued babbling until I could babble no more. My tongue started hurting but their interest only grew to unimaginable proportions and now they were building statues of me with the tiny little pieces of sand surrounding us. \n \nI was very creeped out and urged them to stop! They asked me to keep telling stories, some of them falling on their knees while doing so. I still have the knife in my hand, now all clean and shiny. \n\"You tell me how to get out of here or I will find my own way.\" I raise the knife and point it towards me. \nThe closest one to me laughs and replies while holding a grain of sand in his tiny little hands:\"As the feeling of time moves with the wind, so do the eyes change the spirit of the objects around us. What was heaven today becomes hell tomorrow as soon as you experience.\" \n\nI didnt have time for this cringy shit. I stab myself again and wake up, only to be greeted by the same lunatics from before. \n\"A universe of pain is not to be left alone, lest one wants to join another one.\" One of them spewed shit again. \n\nI close my eyes and finally die.\n",
"An isolating haze \nClouded my thoughts. \nA feral craze \nMade my legs hop. \n\nThe mist cleared \nFrom my brain. \nAnd as I feared, \nI'm still very lame. \n\nThe music stopped pumping, \nThe limelight was on me. \nThe people stopped jumping, \nAnd turned around to see. \n\nThe humid room chilled \nAnd filled with silence. \nI was still on tilt, \nBut halted my dance. \n\nPeople stared, entranced, \nAnd began to giggle. \nI knew that during my dance \nMy buckle began to jiggle. \n\nI looked down timidly, \nThen applause came gung ho. \nPeople cheered so fervently, \nDiscovering I went commando.",
"It was unstable, but nothing too fancy either. Brass and copper tubing, high pressure steam powering it, gyros and gears all intertwined in a collective web of machinery. But it worked.\n\nYears was easy, months was harder, days was essentially impossible. The chance of instantaneously ripping through space and time, collapsing it into a single timeline would destroy… well... everything really. Reality itself would disintegrate itself under the strain of the bending.\n\n\nRegardless of all this, I had made it, well, almost. I might have been a few weeks off, but it was better than not arriving at all. My contraption had brought me to the backroom, a damp lit place filled to the brim with cleaning supplies and utility tools. My goal had been right where he should have.\n\nI never saw myself much of a philosopher, Loops, Grandfather Paradoxes, Multiverses, Butterfly effects or such nonsense all seemed so distant. The fact is, I had never thought of the consequences of my actions. What would actually happen if I went through with it? Would it even change my timeline?\n\n\nHis body laid on the floor, the stab wound still fresh and oozing red, and not a single drop on me. His loud questionings of my presence and the withering of his voice as he sank to the floor was muffled by the commotion outside. \n\n\nWhere they cheering? Had I been too late? Had he already gone through with the tainting of the world as we, as I, knew it? No, the contraption had worked, the year was right, but what about the month?\n\n\nMy body moved before my mind even finished the thought, through the door, sharp left through the hallway, my pulse and breath raced faster for every step. The balcony was in front of me, the images in my mind collided with each other, the years of planning, the decades of preparation. Had it all been for nothing? Had I been too late after all?\n\n\nI swept the sweat off my brow through my hair to the left, as I closed the gap between my horrid thoughts and the balcony door, they suddenly and systematically swung open.\n\n\nThe crowd below bellowed in cheerful unison. Around me on the wide balcony men in charcoal colored uniforms saluted with one hand raised high in the air. I stumbled forward, resting my hands on the balcony marble railing, gasping for air. A man with a booming voice placed his hand on my shoulder, my knees felt shattered, my mind trying to sort itself into a logical path, but there was none.\n\n\n\n*“Its all taken care of Mein Furher\"* The man with the booming voice whispered to me, *“The speeches you had recorded, they’re all ready. Today it begins.”* My gut wrenched, faintness and torment poured over me like a wall of water.\nI roared outwards, in agony. The man with the booming voice hastefully nodded down to a nearby man with his eyes fixed on us. In his hands he held a mechanical switch, instantly turning it as the man with the booming voice nodded.\n\n\nAnd as my lips moved, screaming for them to stop, the sound from the speakers erupted.\n\n\n*“Sieg heil!”* And the crowd repeated it.\n\n\n\nThe knife had left not a speck of blood on my body. But soon, my hands would be covered with it.\n"
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[WP] You are a hero who is about to begin your journey when you hear a disembodied voice say, "Before we begin, we must start with the basics... Tilt the left stick forward slightly to walk, or all the way to run."
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"I am a hero. Always have been, always will be. For as long as I can remember I've been a hero, an adventurer, a source of light in these dark times. My latest challenging endeavour was about to begin when I heard 'The Voice'. Everyone knows about the 'The Voice', it speaks to only those of true power, those who could mould the world to their design. It guided this worlds hero's through their darkest hours and kept their path true on the journey to glory. Or at least that's what I'd heard. \n\n'Before we begin, we must start with the basics....tilt the left stick forward slightly to walk, or all the way to run'\n\nAhh, so The Voice spoke in tongues, I thought to myself, however it's meaning was clear, my journey was underway. With a quick exploration of the field I found my only exit blocked by a fallen tree, it was at this point the voice spoke to me again.\n\n'Good, to remove the debris hit square to perform a light attack or triangle to perform a heavy attack.'\n\nAgain I understood little of what the voice said but the message was clear, I had my trusty sword that would make quick work the my first obstacle. A few seconds later I was through with relative ease. Running down the forested path it wasn't long until I came across a river I forded easily. Deciding on a change of pace I followed the river upstream until I came upon a small crest over which the river spilled. Again The Voice spoke. \n\n'Press x to jump, double tapping x will double jump your hero to gain extra height to reach the ledge'\n\nWait a minute. Was The Voice not talking to me? While slightly unnerved I continued on my way pulling my self up over the ledge and continued up the river. It was just speaking in tongues again I told myself. The Voice was all-powerful, it knew what it was doing and it would not lead me astray. \n\nIt was with this newfound confidence that I strode out, running alongside the river, trees blurring past me, I was making great time. Perhaps to confident, as I almost literally stumbled into a camp of bandits. Low level scum like this had been harassing the hard working folk of these lands for years. Clearly alarmed at the heavily armed stranger in their camp all three charged straight towards me. But before they could reach the cutting edge of my sword the voice spoke again. \n\n'Use L1 to block, this reduces damage taken and has a chance to stun if times correctly.'\n\nBefore I had time to analyse the advice the first bandit was on me, using my slight distraction to get a good scrape down my left arm before I moved out of his way. First blood to the enemy, no matter, they wouldn't live to brag about it. Locking blades with the second bandit as he came in with his strike, I managed to send him reeling with the impact. Using that brief moment of relief I quickly dispatched the first bandit who had continued on behind me after his first lucky hit. Turning on the second bandit and the third who had only now managed to reach the fight, they were waiting, seemingly trying to way up their options on how best to deal with me. The Voice echoed in my head once more. \n\n'Press circle to roll, this can be used to avoid incoming attacks and move to a more advantageous position in battle.' \n\nWhy does the voice need to explain simple battle tactics to me, surely it knows I know this? Before I could answer my own question the remaining two bandits lunged at me as if given an unseen prompt. \n\nMoving forwards, ducking the first and sliding under the second sword I jumped up slicing my own through the air. The bandits fell the their knees. Blood quickly pooling around them. \n\n'Well done, you performed a spinning jump attack, this can be used against multiple enemies and has a large area of effect.'\n\nOk, listen here Voice, you may be all-powerful, but you need not mock me about basic battle technique, I thought as hard as towards the point I felt the Voice coming from inside my head. \n\n'Your hero has been injured and needs to rest, use on of the bandits beds to heal.' \n\nOk, ok ok, ok. Now this voice definitely wasn't addressing me. But he was in my head, who else could he be talking to? Surrounded by silence I finally had time to assess my situation, come to think of it, how did I even find myself in that initial field but an hour ago? My name is xXCharlieIZcoolXx and I vow on my own honour to figure out what The Voice was up to. \n\n--------------\nC&C welcome, if there's any interest I could continue this. "
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[WP] "Lord of Darkness, King of Death. It's strange to be defied, when you have control over the demise of your subjects."
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"######[](#dropcap)\n\nFrom the great throne of stone slabs, Rodrick of the Blackened Sword sat in total stillness beneath the glow of the great portal that rose behind him. A brilliant shade of white etched about the great rounded borders, displaying foreign lands and distant impossible places; each one shadowed and glimmered along that massive expanse. It was as if there stood a great doorway, long since made impassable behind layered protections and seals of magic barely visible to the eyes.\n\nFor all those who came atop the many steps of the Eastern Tower and witnessed this scene, many figures might let awe overtake them to bow at Rodrick's feet. His powerful form radiated intense strength, his armor seemed to suck the very life from the air around him, and his gaze could cower any unfortunate enough to fall beneath it. Some foolish and rare few might even think the man within this great Black Armor a King: An Emperor. Those of ambition and ignorance might even mistake him for the Lord of Darkness himself: The Great Immortal Mage.\n\nBeyond his inability to die, however, Rodrick was none of those things. \n\nNot a King, not a Lord, not capable of controlling the vast powers of reality and mana upon his will. He was nothing more than a fading soul and a traitor. He did not sit upon the throne as a true King might, to watch over his lands and kingdom.\n\nHe sat upon this throne solely because of the horrible glowing gateway which rose up behind it. A gatekeeper, doomed to a more terrible fate than death itself for his own transgressions.\n\n*\"Hello again, Rodrick.\"*\n\nThe voice spoke, cruel and filled with malice as it reached out to the mind before it, unhindered by the absence of sound. Words, should they even be considered such, pulsed like blood in his skull- pressure building where a heart had long since ceased its activities.\n\n\"My Lord.\" Rodrick's voice rasped out aloud to the empty room, speech pried from lungs that sounded as if they'd long since been filled with broken glass, and dust. \"It has been some time since you've spoken.\"\n\n*\"Time passes strangely in this place... these places.\"* The portal seemed to shimmer, then fade. As if force and powers stirred deep beneath its surface, and the images shown were nothing more than the reflection of a mirror's edge. *\"But I grow closer to discerning its secrets, second by second.\"*\n\n\"There are no doubts in my mind.\" Rodrick murmured agreement, but he did not rise, nor turn his helm to watch the cast ripples along the great expanse behind him. In his bones, he could feel the truth, and he knew this was not the time in which he awaited. Instead, his gaze followed the reflections passed along the polished floor, runes that lurked upon such stone almost seeming to drink the light in, hungrily gnawing at the ethereal substance it cast. \"Have you a request for me?\" \n\n*\"A request, you ask?\"* The seizing fit of rage throbbed in the far distant corners of Rodrick's mind, a reaction and temper held at bay only by immeasurably distance and uncounted layers of defense. *\"No request today my humble slave, only a promise. Same as always.\"*\n\n\"So you say, my lord.\"\n\nThe silence stretched, distant and powerful force of anger fading into the ever-stretching realm of the portal's glow. Somehow, despite all the mages still beneath Rodrick's control within the Spire, their promises and careful work: The man seemed to grow closer by the day. Sometimes by the hour.\n\n*\"Tell me, Rodrick. What has become of the armies?\"* The anger faded to curiosity, a pondering series of thoughts not quite conveyed to Rodrick's mind, but intentions passed along all the same as they continued. *\"I remember gathering their excess, those Orcish hordes and the Goblin clans to repel the next Eastern crusade. I find myself wondering what has become of them.\"*\n\n\"Of both the Southern and Northern forces, they have all been repelled my lord. Heavy losses are recorded on both sides.\" He could do little to hide the truth from the force which seeked it, but Rodrick held his tongue until the last instant- in which his mind itself might break against the demand that pressed it. \"The Doterra's Holy Armies approach further by the day, despite their casualties.\"\n\n*\"Hmm...\"* The voice paused, considering. *\"Your doing, I suppose? Setting my mighty empire to ruin with what little freedom you've been given in my absence? It is a simple matter to rebuild such trivialities.\"*\n\n\"No, my Lord. The Ancient Dragon has shown himself, rallied Eastern Armies in your... travels.\" Rodrick's hollow words floated and echoed amidst the stone and glass around him, empty room of tower settled to a dim quiet. Not even the great winds of such height could slip their way inside. \"With that strength assisting them, Doterra's warriors are more powerful than even you might have imagined.\"\n\n*\"Somehow, I doubt that.\"* The voice almost seemed to growl, vibrations of displeasure rattling withing Rodrick's mind. *\"You on the other hand... As one long since fabled to be a Lord of Darkness, a King of Death... It's strange to be defied by one such as yourself Rodrick. A simple warrior, a long since fallen foe turned slave... Perhaps I should have expected it. Most undead lose every trace of their free-will by the second century in my service. You've clung on much longer than most.\"*\n\n\"I have no illusions to the consequences, my Lord.\" Rodrick replied, his armor and body still upon the great stone seat. \"This is but a failure that has not yet ended, only prolonged.\"\n\n*\"Ah... then you do understand. Truly, did you really believe that you could kill me?* That the little Mage who threw me here might actually have done the deep himself?\" The voice seemed to laugh, cackling like lightning strikes in a far-off storm. \"*I would have expected you, of all those who serve me, to know better.\"*\n\n\"The opportunity was one that might only come once in a lifetime.\" The silence stretched, \"A very long lifetime.\"\n\n*\"Remember my promise Rodrick.\"* The sensation of the pressing mind seemed to draw off, fading into yet another far-off and distant place beyond the veil. Rodrick listened to the odd murmurings of magics and powers beyond his control as they passed along the link which held him. The very same that fixed his soul to this horrid and undying flesh and armor against the tests of time. Still, the distant voice echoed there, slipping farther and farther along into the twilight of nothing and everything- of worlds and planes beyond ordinary comprehension.\n\n*\"Remember that I will return, and for this betrayal: You will* ***suffer.\"***\n\nThen the voice was gone, and Rodrick was once again alone beneath the light of the portal.\n\n----\n\n**This is a continuation of a bunch of other writing prompts:**\n\n[Start Here](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/51f8ag/wp_youre_such_a_powerful_magician_that_life_is/d7bn3g2/)\n\n[Previous](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/5g4nla/tthe_started_as_the_lowliest_of_warriors_describe/daphydk/)\n\n[Next](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/5h6er9/wp_write_a_day_in_the_life_of_an_inanimate_object/day15de/)"
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Ideally while still having the origin of darth vader, luke, and/or Ben kenobi in there somewhere
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[WP] Write a better prequel saga for starwars
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"# Episode 1: An Old Hope\n\nTHE REPUBLIC, the ancient and venerable governing \nbody that has kept peace in the galaxy for thousands \nof years, is dying. Millenia of stability has allowed \nthe senators to forget the chaos that came before, \nand has ushered in greed, idleness, and corruption. \n\nOne by one, systems on the edge of the galaxy have \nseceded from the republic. Their complaints are common: \nExcessive taxation. Lack of representation in the republic. \nUnwillingness of the republic to deploy its overwhelming \nfleet to protect these border worlds from piracy and worse. \n\nMost threatening, however, is the ancient JEDI ORDER. \nOnce a force for peace and good in the galaxy, the order \nhas ossified, becoming a rigid corps of knights who cannot \ndeviate from their teachings. These teachings compel them \nto locate those sensitive to the force, recruit them into \nthe order, and - to prevent emotional ties - never allow them \nto return home again.\n\nOne such Jedi, and his apprentice, has infiltrated one of \nthese rebel planets. TATOOINE is a place of deserts, \nbut it is also a place of deep history, where many battles \nhave been fought. These Jedi have located an artifact from one \nof these battles, a SITH HOLOCRON holding many \nteachings now forbidden by the Jedi order. \n\nBut the holocron is a powerful artifact, and its \nheritage is steeped in evil. Even now, there are \nfactions would would take it for their own use....\n\n----\n\nThe view pans down to the dunes of Tatooine,\nwhere there's a speeder chase going on. It's QUI-GON and\nOBI-WAN, and they have the holocron. They're being chased by\nmultiple speeders with suspiciously-stormtrooperlike riders.\n\nThe two jedi have a brief shouted conversation: Safety is a nearby\ntown, they just need to get there.\n\nOf course, when they do, they discover that it's been burnt to\nthe ground. The jedi stop and make a stand there, fighting offthe \nnumerically superior troopers. They succeed without being wounded,\nbut the effort has clearly taxed them.\n\nOnly then does DARTH MAUL reveal himself. He's figured out that\nthis town is where the Jedi were going and cut them off. He burned\ndown the town and killed its people as a message to the jedi: give him\nback the holocron, or he'll wreak a path of destruction.\n\nThe Jedi, having gone through all this trouble to steal the thing in the first place,\ndo not surrender it. Instead, lightsaber battle ensues. Unfortunately, the two Jedi are outclassed and facing powers they've only heard of in legend. Qui-Gon is badly wounded, Obi-wan only hurt. Maul takes back the holocron. As he does so, Qui-Gon makes vague threats/warnings that the Jedi council will not allow this to happen, will not allow the Maul and the holocron to spread the teachings of the ancient and evil sith empire. Maul's reply is a simple: \"You are too late\". He gets into his spaceship and takes off.\n\nObi-wan searches the village for whatever medical supplies might be left in the rubble. There he locates a single survivor of the disaster: ANAKIN SKYWALKER. Anakin is a teenage boy who inexplicably survived the disaster. Still shocked from the ordeal, he nonetheless helps locate medical supplies and treat Qui-Gon. The latter is now at least well enough to travel, and the three take the speeders and leave the village, on their way to Anchorhead, a city where they can depart the planet.\n\nUpon their arrival, they're greeted by anti-republic demonstrations, who vocally object to the Jedi but are ignored. \n\nOnce the Jedi contact the republic fleet, however, they receive dire news: Tatooine is to serve as a demonstration of the republic's unwillingness to negotiate with separatists. Anchorhead, along with several other large population centers, is to be bombed from orbit. The order went out when the Jedi were presumed lost in the village attack, and will be carried out very shortly.\n\nUnseen by the Jedi, Anakin has overheard this.\n\nThe Jedi rush to get to their ship before the city is destroyed. This is made considerably more difficult by the presence of the demonstrators, who as the rush continues, grow more and more violent. News of the city's impending destruction has leaked.\n\nEventually, Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan make it to their ship and escape, just as turbolaser fire rains down from above. As they make orbit, republic cruisers can be seen firing on other locations on the planet.\n\nPan to reveal that this is not the only ship that has escaped the planet: Darth Maul's ship is shown jumping away.\n\nBack on the ship, Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan have a talk about what just happened - Obi-Wan is appalled at the republic's behavior. Qui-Gon is not happy either, but he sees it as necessary to preserve peace. This is when Anakin, having stowed away on the ship, reveals himself, asking: How does this make the republic any different from Maul?\n\nThe conversation that ensues has more to do with private property rights and trespassing and the morality of stowing away. Eventually, the jedi relent and agree to take Anakin with them, with the warning that he'll stand trial for aforementioned trespassing and stowing away when they get where they're going.\n\nWhere they're going is CORUSCANT, and its planet-encompassing city. Upon their arrival, uniformed security people take Anakin away. Medical officials whisk Qui-Gon off. Obi-Wan reports back to the Jedi Council: Yes, they succeeded in locating the holocron. No, they were not the first to discover it, and here they tell of Darth Maul, who could only have gained his power through exposure to the holocron. No, they could not retrieve it, and they tell of their loss to Maul. The Jedi Council already knows much of this. JEDI MASTER YODA informs Obi-Wan that he thought they were dead, and that the holocron would certainly fall into the \"great darkness\" he sensed on the planet.\n\nThe council is intrigued by the tale of Anakin, yoda in particular. Yoda orders Obi-Wan to attend the child's trial. He does so, only to discover that Anakin has escaped.\n\nAnakin is running through the undercity of Coruscant. Hopelessly lost, looking over his shoulder for both police and thugs. The latter are plentiful but don't notice him. Eventually, however, he discovers that he cannot hide from Master Yoda. They talk - yoda saying he can sense the force in the young man, that is how he escaped Maul, how he escaped detection by even the trained Jedi, how even now the crowds part around them without noticing them. Standard \"force is powerful\" speech.\n\nAnakin isn't buying into it right away. He wants to - he's tired, angry, and wants to believe in his own power to fix things - but the Jedi are synonymous with the Republic, and the Republic killed millions of people just because they were rebelling.\n\nYoda tells him the truth: That was a smokescreen. Though it will (hopefully) also do that, the bombardment was done because of the holocron. Maul destroyed one village, and he was one man. What could an army of Sith do? They once nearly wiped out the galaxy completely. Preventing this from happening again is one of the pillars of the Republic. Yoda is basically mirroring Qui-Gon here. Anakin again asks what the difference between their actions and Maul's were, and Yoda tells him: Maul did what he did because he could. The Jedi act because they must. If Anakin wishes to prevent both sorts of disasters, the Jedi are the only way, because in the long run it's the path to peace. The emotional reaction is expected, but must be looked beyond. \"There is no emotion: There is only peace.\"\n"
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[WP] You've just left your starship, your home, and are now in a drop pod with 4 others. Who are they? What are you all doing there and then?
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"\"Impact in two minutes.\"\n\n\"Oh well this is just perfect. This is *exactly* how I wanted this mission to go.\" Captain Weldon glared angerly out the nearby window at the remains of the HMS Wellington.\n\nJim drummed his fingers nervously on his knees. \"Well... on the bright si-\" \n\n\"Don't say it ensign. There's no bright side to this. Ship's gone, we're hurtling toward a pre-warp planet, and no one even knows we're out here!\"\n\n\"Well Cap'n, I'd say we did pretty well for ourselves.\" Shamus said in his usual cheerful tone, \"We're all alive and together so there's that. I even managed to save little scrapper 're.\" He patted the domed head of the repair Droid in the seat next to him. \n\n\"Impact in one minute\"\n\n\"Beep beep boop\"\n\nWeldon glared at the little droid who was looking up at him it's single lens, \"bah. Fine. It has a point. As long as the ship is intact, the distress signal is playing, so there's still a tiny chance th-\"\n\nA burst of light suddenly filled the pod through the window, Weldon stared in silently at the debris as it rained down toward the planet.\n\nMedical Officer Chelsea coughed awkwardly, \"well... at least it can't get any wor-\"\n\nWeldon reeled around to face her, \"*Don't* say it. If you say that then something *worse* will ha-\"\n\nThere was a screech of metal and the pod began to spin rapidly, tossing the passengers. \n\n\"Impact in thirty seconds\"\n\n\"Beep beep boop wooo!\"\n\n\"I know scrap! I know!\"\n\nJim smashed into the window and managed to grab ahold of a nearby handle. He peered out of it just in time to see the ground approaching rapidly. \n\n\"Oooooh this is bad.\"\n\n\"Impact in ten seco-\"\n"
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[WP] Elf On The Shelf - Horror Story
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"The littlest one knows about me. She won't come into the den anymore. She cries a lot whenever the mom tries to read that silly book. I'll have to deal with her first. They might start believing her. Or maybe I'll wake her up again tonight, crack her real good, get her sent to the nuthouse. That'd be rich. No. No. Quiet. Calm. Collected. I can't let the adults know. Little Maisy will just have to be Crazy Maisy. They won't believe a six year old. I never should have talked to her. I was bored. What can I say? \n\nThe dog is becoming a problem too. Stupid, yappy little Pomeranian. I could use antifreeze. I remember something about that. But the garage is a long way off and I've already messed up the stitching in my leg after that midnight chat with that girl that will soon be the youngest resident at Bellevue. I'm going stir crazy. That's my problem. It's only one more week. One more week and they'll pack up that ugly Volvo and head to Colorado for Christmas vacation. One week. I can handle a week. It's nothing compared to Port au Prince in July. Or that week in Java with no running water or that ayahuasca \"shaman\" from Santa Fe. \n\nSix lifetimes, fourteen fetishes, and this is where I end up. Arkansas. This godforsaken suburb. This ugly paneled den. What would my teacher think of me now? Well. Who cares. She's dead. I took care of her three lifetimes in. She taught me all I needed to know. Find something, anything, humanoid in appearance, fracture the soul, work the rites, stay alive. Above all else...stay alive. Fire is the enemy. Destruction of the fetish is destruction of the soul. Rule number 1, she told me. \n\nIt was all I had. I was bleeding out in a warehouse. The little sets were ready to go. I hate Christmas. So of course it had to be Christmas. It doesn't matter. One week. I just hate the waiting. If the father and mother weren't so fat and decrepit I would just take them tonight, one of them, in their sleep. I haven't been a woman in a while, that would be nice. No. No children either. The mind doesn't take to it well. I have to wait. The house-sitter is coming in one week. Young, strapping lad. Bit stupid but it's not his mind I need. Just the body. He'll do fine. I'll take him while he's sleeping, probably here on their ugly sofa. Yes. Here. First chance I get. \n\nMaybe he's a naughty boy. That would be so rich, wouldn't it? Wouldn't that be great? Tsk. Tsk. Such a naughty boy. On the wrong list. Time to go, James. Santa's Littlest Helper is ready to make the jump again and feel the warm touch of skin. You'll be fine. I just stay here. On the mantle. Smiling. Just keep smiling. One more week. "
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[WP] After spending your life miraculously dodging death, you invent the time machine and go back only to realize luck wasn't why you survived.
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"It all made sense now.\n\nI was finally finished with my life's work. Multiple lives, as death would call it. But I never met death; the reaper couldn't catch but the dust of my trail. \n\n\"Just one last turn.... There. She's finished\" I grunted to myself as I tightened the final bolt to my masterpiece. It was a beautiful thing. Taking over two thousand years to complete, \"Sheela\", as I liked to call her, was crafted piece-by-piece by some of the world's greatest minds.\n\nSomehow, albeit luck, whenever I laid rest to each one of my friends, death would not come for me. I wondered why. I turned that curiosity into a passion, a passion to create a device that would take me all the way back to my birth.\n\nMany would call it a gift. The gift of eternal life.\n\nTo me, it was a curse. \n\nEver since I could remember, I had a dream. I was running from something familiar. That familiarity, I had come to realize, was death. I wanted to run no longer. It wasn't that I couldn't run, but that I was done running. If I could prevent myself from becoming immortal, I could finally rest in peace.\n\nI cleared the thoughts from my head as I closed the door to Sheela and strapped in. \n\n\"Time and Destination, Dr. Dorette?\" Sheela inquired.\n\n\"London, 1942.\" I responded, bracing myself for the warp.\n\nMy head snapped back after a brief whizzing of various instruments. I lost consciousness. If everything worked properly, I would wake up in a secure location in London, 1942.\n\nThe machine traveled through the time-warp successfully, but something went wrong.\n\n\"ERROR... ERROR... NAVIGATIONAL SYSTEMS OFFLINE...\"\n\"ERROR... ERROR... NAVIGATIONA-\" ....\n\n\"Knock it off, Sheela. Where the hell are we?\" I asked as the pod's door opened..\n\n\"Location unknown, Dr. However, the time jump was successful. Scanning local surroundings for geographical positioning... Hmm, Dr. It seems that the core navigation safety protocol dropped you off in a rural part of England, time period 1942.\"\n\n\"Well, that's good. Mind fixing yourself up so that when I return, we can make it back to 3967?\" I asked Sheela, knowing she was already working on her self-repairs.\n\n\"Yes, Dr. Estimates show repair times will take approximately 14 hours and 27 minutes. Shall I move the pod to a safe position upon completion of repairs?\"\n\n\"That'll be fine, thank you.\" I responded as I turned towards London.\n\n-- Hours Later --\n\n\"Damn. The English country-side hadn't looked this good since I last saw it as a kid.\" I thought to myself as I followed a dirt road into London. \n\nAll of a sudden, a noise unlike any other began to sound.\n\n\"Ah, Christ. I forgot I landed myself right in the middle of World War Two. Looks like if I want to find my younger self, I better hurry.\"\n\nI started to pick up the pace. The one thing I actually enjoyed about being immortal was that no part of me ever aged. Once I peaked physically at the ripe age of twenty-five, I remained that way for as long as I could remember. \n\nMy legs started to really kick in, modeling some of the best runners of all time. I felt that I was Usain Bolt, the fastest Olympian to ever run the track, that is up until the games were discontinued in 2147. I made it to London in what felt like no time, but my watch read that I only had 6 hours remaining.\n\n\"Shit. I must be getting old.\" I heaved as my lungs started to catch up with my legs. \n\nThere it was. London. In all her glory, she had seen better days, especially during this time period. The sirens had stopped now, and life was continuing on as usual as possible for a nation at war. I began to approach the center of the city when I heard a faint cry. A baby's cry.\n\nI snapped my head around, searching for the sound. I knew it was close, but no one around me seemed to notice. To my north was a collapsed church, undoubtedly collateral damage as German bombers laid waste to the city. I found away inside, and the crying got louder. There was rubble all around me, debris, stones, pillars, everything collapsed in and strewn all over the floor.\n\n\"There's no way a baby could survive any of this. None, no way at all.\" I doubted myself, as I pushed further into the collapsed church.\n\nI found the remnants of the altar, where the crying was at its loudest. To my dismay, two priests had been crushed under the weight of the debris. I moved to the altar, where a stone podium stood. Underneath it, where one might house a stool, was a living, breathing child, resting in a basket.\n\n\"No way... What's this?\" I questioned as I picked up the basket. On the inside...\n\nThere was a riddle.\n\n\"I know what you seek...\nYou seek to be free.\nLeave this baby to die...\nAnd free you shall be...\n\nBut! Keep this baby alive...\nAnd you shall live too.\nFor me, I am gone,\nBut gone, so are you.\"\n\n*beep beep beep... beep beep beep* The alarm on my watch started ringing.\n\n\"Sheela. Come in. I'm not detecting you on any systems, where are you?\" I called.\n\nNo response.\n\nI looked at the baby in the basket and contemplated everything I had ever done. \n\n\"No. I am no killer. I have not come this far to stoop so low.\" I bellowed, as I fought internally.\n\nI brought myself to look down at the baby, and it stared right back at me. I stared straight into its eyes, searching for a meaning...\n\nAnd I found one.\n\nThe baby, I started to realize, had the same eyes as me. \n\nAnd at once...\n\nIt all made sense now.\n\nI am the source of my own immortality.\n\n\n"
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[WP] God lives among us, he really likes acting and has gotten so into his role as a human he forgot he was god. Now he is visited by angels to try and knock him out of it.
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"I enter the record store off Haight Street and Telegraph avenue in San Francisco, California. Dressed in a white hoodie and faded jeans, I try my best to look as inconspicuous as possible. Perhaps the sandals were a bit much, but they seemed to be in the style for this time. At least I knew to avoid the socks with them. It's been way too long for the big guy. Usually it's only a week at a time in which he must \"check in\". It's been going on three human months now. The order in heaven has really been going downhill and people are starting to questions on his disappearance. While he's almighty, He must know that things won't remain in stability without him at the helm.\n\nMy sources have lead me to this location. The bright rays of sun landing on this store and the outrageous deals on rare albums were a giveaway. Scouting the room is a bit tough as he never really told anyone what his disguise was going to be this time around. He loves to explore the full spectrum of races and genders to get the full experience. There is this one middle age Hispanic that seems a bit out of place as he's attempting to sell a Tupac album to a young college women whose browsing the latest Bruno Mars music. As I enter towards their conversation, the dialog of the big guy is uncanny. You must check out this music he states, trust me, I've met the guy and he's a really an inspired artist. As the lady exits the aisle, I place my hand on his shoulders. With a sense of shock, the Hispanic gentleman stares at me with first a showing of surprise before an almost comical showing of confusion to his face. You seem familiar my friend he states to me. \n\nI lower my head with some exhaustion. Yes you know me, I'm Gabriel, one of your archangels, you know, in heaven, where we sort of need you at the moment. Raphael and Uriel are arguing over who should have leap day and Michael is considering taking over in your stead. Some would call it treasonous if the world wasn't slowly turning into chaos without you. Did you see who the United States elected for president? We need you for the insanity that is to follow for sure. The Hispanic panics. \"?Estas hablando de?\" he returns. With another sigh of further exhaustion, I grab him by his shoulders. With a sturdy shake, his head begins to shake along with the building and the surrounding San Fransisco location. It would later be recorded as a minor earthquake to the local news. \n\nI finally get a sight of recognition in his eyes. How long have I been here he states. I mention the duration the the past events that he may have overlooked these past months including Brexit. As he stares down just left of me, he mutters \"I really indulged this time. I started seeing this really smoking chick that I met at an indie show. Oh how she's going to be let down.\" I chuckle slightly from the absurdity of it all. I once again place my hand on his shoulder and notion upward. With a nod, he smiles and we're both transported upward without anyone around us being any the wiser.\n\n"
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[WP] Every human has a personal, invisible guardian, summoned by magic words long forgotten. You have just accidentally said the words.
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"Falling over, I knock my lamp off the nightstand beside my bed. I grunt trying to further pull up my jeans. Standing back up, I jump until they slide over my hips and I button them in satisfaction. I look in the mirror proud of my accomplishment. My black hair trails down my back and I comb my fingers through it, trying to tame the mess it always is. Still breathing heavy, I turn to walk across my room and trip back over the night stand. I moan rolling on my side. \n\nI lay on the floor peering underneath my bed, contemplating the purpose of my inconvenient life. I find my old journal and I stretch to grab the fraying ribbon from the journal. Retrieving the long forgotten secrets of my mind, I sit up and begin flipping through the pages. I smile at the trivial things past me has written about, passing over memories of my family. I sigh and throw my old journal on my bed. It lands pages open so the page marked by the ribbon is displayed. Taking a second glance, I decide to read one more entry. At the end next to my juvenile signature are words I’ve never seen before. I mutter them again and again, trying to figure out their awkward pronunciation.\n\nMy closet doors bang open and I scream, throwing my journal at the bursting doors, pelting the man now standing there. “Ouch!” he flamboyantly yells, waving his hands to further deflect any more flying objects. I stare at him wide-eyed while frozen on my bed. He shakes his head, his crisp blue hair staying perfect, and adjusts his button down. After taking a few overly dramatic breaths, he turns his gaze to me allowing his gray eyes to take me in. \n\n“Okay, we need to fix this,” he gestures not only to me but my chaotic room. He strolls over to my nightstand, picking it up, and setting it back to its rightful position. Waving his hands, objects begin flying around my room to their organized places. I don’t think I’ve blinked or breathed since he’s walked out of my closet. He walks over and gives me a nice pat on the back, throwing me into a coughing fit. \n\n“Girl, I wrote those words in your journal five-ever ago hoping you would find them.” He waves a finger at me. “You’re a mess, you know,” he begins lecturing me. Blinking, I point to the closet and then point at him, moving my finger back and forth. “Oh, right. Let me explain,” he plops down next to me on the bed, sprawling out across my bedspread.\n\n“So I’m your magical guardian, guardian angel, last hope, worst nightmare, really whatever you want me to be,” he flips his hand back and forth. “Girl, you’re a mess,” he says to me again. I look down at my hands and place them on my face, taking deep breaths trying to understand what the hell is happening.\n\n“So, what, I get three wishes and you go?” I say to him with my hands over my eyes, shaking my head. I feel a hand on my knee and peek at him through my fingers. He’s smiling at me, showing beautiful white teeth. \n\n“Oh, honey, no,” he deeply laughs. I feel a ball form in my throat, and tip to my side, groaning into my sheets. It seems that I have spent more time on my side this morning than I have standing. “What was your job placement at school?” he asks me. My face flushes and anger surprisingly hits me in the chest. \n\nAt eighteen we are given job placements, directing us on how we are to benefit our society. Some kids are chosen to further their education, some are chosen for war, others are tradesmen/women, and so on. There are a few select, like myself who are given a pending application. This means two things, either you become an outcast, deemed unworthy of society’s standards or your job is to enter parliament to work for the royal family. I’d rather become an outcast than work with the royal family.\n\nI hear him laugh and swing my arm out to hit him. I make contact with his chest and hear a dull thump. He grabs my wrist, yanking me to sit up and stare him in the eyes and he holds me here. He stands up, dragging me with him through my one bedroom apartment. Stumbling over things, he becomes annoyed, waving his hands and having objects fly around the tiny space until it is clean. “Rules,” he beings lecturing again. I roll my eyes, I’m already done with him. “One, ditch the attitude.” My face flushes, and he pushes me into the bathroom and turns on the shower and points. “strip while I talk, don’t make me ask again,” he continues while rummaging through my belongings. \n\nI gasp and cross my arms. He stops moving and turns to me while rolling his eyes. “Honey, I’m as flaming as they come. Get over yourself, lets go,” he claps. I turn my back to him and take off my jeans I struggled to put on what seems like years ago. I gaze at my watch and realize it’s only been 15 minutes, and I kiss making it on time to class, goodbye. “Two,” he continues, “I now dictate your wardrobe, your hair, and class schedule as you finish primary school.” \n\nI about fall over in the shower and grab the soap holder trying not to slip. I wear torn jeans and plain long sleeve shirts to school every day, my messy hair always dutifully tied in a curly mess behind me. I rip open the shower curtain, exposing only my head.\n\n“Absolute-“ he holds up a finger. \n\n“Do NOT make me repeat rule number one,” he demands. “You do as I say, you’re a wreck and you know it.” I throw the curtain close and finish showering. “Three,” he yells from outside the bathroom, “you can call me Charles. I will always be around but only you can see me, hear me, talk to me, whatever,” he keeps yelling.\n\nI turn off the shower and climb out. A fresh outfit is hanging on the door, solid black jeans with a copper sweater. I put the jeans on with ease, surprised on how they flatter me better than any pair I’ve put on before. I pull the sweater on over my head and use the sleeve to rub the condensation off the mirror. The neckline shows off my collar bones and I trace them with my fingers, never noticing their prominent features. \n\n“Your application is pending,” he says while standing in the doorway, holding a steaming sandwich. He walks behind me, braiding my hair with ease and handing me the sandwich. I look down at it but have no desire to eat it. \n\n“I’m not working for the Royal family,” I spit. I refuse to dedicate my life to a family that holds no respect for the struggling members of its society, or the outcasts they deem unworthy of regular life.\n\nCharles places me on the closed toilet and begins covering the few blemishes on my face. Cupping my chin, he pulls my face up to look at him and tilts his head. “You’d rather be an outcast?” he asks me. I pull my face out of his grasp and let him finish doing his thing. I sit in silence for a while before answering him. “I’m smart, and I know my way around their terrain,” I begin. \n\nGrowing up, I would sneak off at night and walk through the rundown parts of the city and began learning the world of outcasts. School was never my strong suit, and I am too small of a build to benefit the war. I knew I would receive a pending application, being the only girl of a family full of decorated male war heroes. I couldn’t compete with my older brothers, and I didn’t have a voice like my mother’s that would place me in an entertainment job. When my parents realized I wouldn’t join the war effort and didn’t have proper lady skills, they removed me from the family and gave me enough money to live on my own until my application came through. \n\n“I can change their lives, they’re people too,” I tell him. I throw the now cold sandwich in the trash next to me, disgusted.\n \n“I know you’re going to change their lives,” he said to me. He hands me a mirror, walking back into my bedroom and begins rummaging around. I look at my reflection, never seeing myself like this. Charles highlighted my prominent features and framed my green eyes. “Faye, let me ask you something, what do you know of the Prince?”\n\nI drop the mirror, watching it shatter into a million pieces on the bathroom tile. My gulp for air and lean against the wall, my vision going blurry. Charles waves the glass away and pulls me up. He turns me towards the mirror, clasping a simple silver choker around my neck, and pulls tiny stray hairs out of my braid.\n\n“Faye, we have a job to do, because your application is no longer pending.” He places his hands on my shoulders, standing behind me a whole head taller. “You’re not going to be working for the Royal family, you’re going to be invited to join it.” \n",
"I stared at the blue being in front of me, his various shades of blue hurting my eyes. Navy blue armor, indigo gloves, sapphire visor, and most worrying of all...a cerulean blade emmiting a soft blue aura.\n\n\n\"Ummm...what are you?\" I asked, my voice coming out squeakier than I had hoped.\n\n\nHe said nothing, his sapphire visor shifting to sky blue as he looked at me, visor going up and down as he gave an unimpressed chuff.\n\n\n\"You summoned me,\" he finally said, his voice a gravelly husk.\n\"I-I think so,\" I said my voice stuttering and trembling.\n\"For so long...I was asleep...for so long...I had no form....for so long...I was thought to be invisible...no one knew I was there...no one knew WE were there,\" he breathed, voice sounding thick with emotion.\n\n\n\"What are you?\" I whispered, my curiousity peaked.\n\n\n\"So even your kind have forgotten about me...interesting,\" he mused, finally walking around my living room.\n\n\n\"What I am...well it's quite easy to explain. Long ago your kind had invisible, powerful guardians protecting you. They would not protect you from human harm, but protect you from shades of evil that would continually seek your kind out to destroy you...take over your body and spread chaos,\" he said, fingers carresing the window pane in front of him.\n\n\n\"So you're one of those guardians? You whispered those words into my ear?\"\n\n\n\"Yes,\" he said, turning to face me. \"But you have it wrong child...I am not a guardian.\"\n\n\nI felt the blood drain from my face as I took a step back, knees trembling and knocking together.\n\n\n\"Wh-what?\" I stammered, my eyes desperately searching his face for some hint of a joke. I found none.\n\n\n\"My kind only had two weaknesses...guardians and sorcerers...like you. Thousands of years ago, as I almost drove a girl insane, her husband, a sorcerer of such small power I never even gave him a thought, destroyed what I was. He gave me a fate worse than death. As the girl's guardian lay dead at my feet, he cursed me....some would say he blessed me....into becoming a guardian. He destroyed what I was and fashioned me into a weapon for his kind. He laid spells upon me, compelling me to protect his lover until she died and then to protect their offspring. I was compelled to fight my own brethren. I slayed them all for you puny mortals. Then....lifetimes later....you said the words that released me from my curse.\"\n\n\nHe drew his sword, advancing on me as I tried to climb up the steps of my house. He flicked his blade at my calf and I screamed in pain as a shallow cut appeared. That cut hurt more than anything I had ever experienced.\n\n\nHe swung again, this time aiming at my head.\n\n\nThen time slowed down.\n\n\nI stared at him, at the blade slwoly making its arc towards my \nhead.\n\n\nI heard a voice.\n\n\nRUN. \n\n\nIt boomed through my head as I scurried up the stairs to my room. \n\n\nHe had called me a sorcerer...maybe I had done this. Maybe I had slowed time down. I stared at my room, wondering why on Earth I had ran into here when I could have escaped outside. I heard a crash as the sword slammed into the wall, the whole house vibrating as he ran upstairs, roaring in anger at his failed kill.\n\n\nI began crying, knowing that there was no way out of here. Then I heard the voice again, words appearing in my head. Old words. \n\n\nSAY IT.\n\n\nSAY IT.\n\n\nTo make the pain in my head stop, I uttered the words as thr shade burst into my room, the splinters of wood cutting me as they flew around me. I said the words again.\n\n\nNothing happened. \n\n\nThe voice did not speak to me again.\n\n\nThe blue shade stood above me, his sword glowing brighter and colder the longer he stared at me.\n\n\n\"A little bit of magic from the little sorcerer,\" he sneered, his voice becoming a high pitched whine. \"If only you could summon your guardian...too bad they adandoned your kind decades ago.\"\n\n\nI stared up at him, tears no longer flowing. I had accepted my fate. I was going to die. But I would not give him the satisfaction of seeing me weep.\n\n\n\"After I kill you,\" he said, lining his sword up with my heart, \"then I wait for your family. Kill them...then begin bringing back my brethren from that world your kind sent them to.\"\n\n\nAs he drew his sword back for the kill, a golden blade exploded out of his abdomen.\n\n\n\"N-n-noooooo,\" he shrieked, shrinking and disappearing into the golden blade. His wail grew smaller and smaller until finally only his sword clattered to the floor, a dull blue piece of metal.\n\n\nI stared at the empty space in front of me, trying desperately to see the guardian who must have saved me. I could only see his blade disappearing as his voice once again filled my head.\n\n\n\"Do not try to see me mortal. Your eyes will burn out of your skull if you keep on trying. The only one who can see a Guardian is other Guardians. No....the only one who can see and survive the sight of another Guardian is another Guardian.\"\n\n\n\"Thank you,\" I whispered, my body suddenly feeling exhausted.\n\n\n\"Do not thank me yet,\" he said. \"I must go now child but I must give you some advice. First, pick up the sword and keep it. Your sorcerer blood will activate the ice magic on it. It will be useful in the days to come. The Veil between us and the shades grow weaker with every passing minute and soon your world will need Guardians again. Secondly...do not lose faith these coming days. Goodbye child\" \n\n\nI felt a warm glow fade and disappear and I knew the Guardian was gone. I limped over to the sword, thr small cut on my calf hurting more than I thought it should. I picked up, and I felt a chill race through my body. I could hear thr shades now, the longer I held the sword the more clear their voices sounded. \n\n\nSOON WE SHALL BE FREE.\n\n\nSoon...I held the sword and aimed my thought directly at them \n\n\nSoon....the Guardians will come back.\n\n",
"As much as I hate to admit it, yes, I sing in the shower. I don't know why, but the hot water and soapy aromas get me in the zone to *SIIIIING*. Don't judge me.\n\nToday was just like any other day. I took a shower, as was customary after a long workout, and pulled out my new *floral chocolate with pomegranate essence* shampoo (it was a gift). Spreading the shampoo on my short hair (really, it was a gift), I felt the urge to sing.\n\nI started with a Rammstein song. I forget which one it was, but it was very heavy on the German throat singing. At one point, just before the solo, the *floral chocolate with pomegranate essence* shampoo (*seriously, it was a gift.* I'm a dude, I don't buy that stuff) soaked into my eyes. \n\nIn a sudden flash of chocolate flower death burning in my eyes, I screamed out the next verse of the song. Next thing I knew, I was hearing voices. The voice told me to stay calm and hold still. Strangely, my eyes stopped burning, allowing me to open my eyes. I could see a ball of light in front me.\n\n\"I am your personal guardian, J'zar. You have summoned me with the distress call of Tamriel. If you are ever in need of help, do not hesitate summon me. Simply shout the distress call for help.\"\n\nI... uhh... wha? \n\n\"What's the distress call, again?\"\n\n\"Did... did you not just shout it out? Haven't your elders taught you the old words?\"\n\n\"Not really, no.\"\n\n\"What earth year is it?\"\n\n\"2016 AD, why?\"\n\n\"Oh... oh, my. The Nordic language doesn't exist anymore, does it?\" \n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"I see. Then, I have created new words for the summoning. If you are ever in distress and need help, simply say...\"\n\n[China Ferrari sex orgy death crash] (http://m.imgur.com/k5XD5Lz)\n\n*****\nIf you enjoyed this story, check out /r/Picklestasteg00d for more.",
"I sat down at my desk with my dinner in front of me, a medium-rare pork chop with mashed potatoes and glass of milk. It had been a long day and I only had a an hour before bed, just long enough to eat and brainstorm for my novel. “Let’s see, I still need a name for the evil wizard,” I said to myself. I liked to say the names out loud to try them out. “ Abra Kadavra? No, that’s cliche. Biareus Kroindar? Too many vowels. Sumbretious Niflplop. I know I can do better than that...”\n\n\nA cool breeze tickled the back of my neck.\n\n\n“BEHOLD, MORTAL!”\n\n\nI jumped in my seat. The voice was like someone had knocked over a rack of bowling balls onto another rack of bowling balls while every bowler in a 20 lane bowling alley nailed a strike simultaneously. I tried not to wet myself and spun around in my chair. There was a man standing in the middle of my office, or at least something resembling a man. His skin was stony, with moss and vines poking out where hair should be. He wore a bronze breastplate and a leather military skirt, like something painted on a vase in a lost city. His eyes glowed purple.\n\n\nI tried to keep my cool. “Who are you.”\n\n\n“I AM YOUR GUARDIAN! YOU HAVE SUMMONED ME!” he boomed.\n\n\nI’d read enough fantasy novels that I was willing to play along. “And you’re here to…?”\n\n\n“I WILL PROTECT YOU, MORTAL!”\n\n\n“I see,” I said. I needed a minute to gather my thoughts, so I returned to my meal. Maybe I was just very, very hungry. I cut off a bite of pork and lifted it towards my mouth. A stone hand slapped my fork away. \n\n\n“THAT PORK IS UNDER-COOKED!”\n\n\n“It’s fine,” I said.\n\n\n“YOU COULD CONTRACT TRICHINOSIS!”\n\n\n“No, they changed the safe temperature a few months ago. It’s fine.”\n\n\nHe glared at my pork. I didn’t dare try another bite, so I picked my fork up off the floor, wiped it on a napkin, and scooped up some potatoes. Again, he slapped the food away before I could eat any.\n\n\n“THAT IS NOT NATURAL FOOD!”\n\n\n“They’re potatoes!” I said.\n\n\n“I HAVE NEVER HEARD OF POTATOES!”\n\n\n“They’re one of the most popular vegetables in the world,” I said. “Where are you from?”\n\n\n“BABYLON!”\n\n\nOk, so the ancient stone Babylonian guardian hadn’t heard about potatoes. Those were New World foods, right? Maybe he hadn’t been summoned in a while. I reached for my milk.\n\n\nThe Guardian knocked it on the floor.\n\n\n“What the hell?”\n\n\n“YOU ARE TOO OLD FOR MILK OF THE COW! YOU COULD GET A TUMMY ACHE!”\n\n\nAnd he’d never heard of adult lactose tolerance. “How old are you, anyway?”\n\n\n“I WAS CRAFTED BY THE HANDS OF MARDUK TO PROTECT HIS BELOVED MORTALS! YOU SUMMONED ME WITH THE ANCIENT WORDS OF POWER!”\n\n\nI facepalmed. “I don’t even remember what the words were, and I certainly didn’t intend to summon a stone version of my mom.” I needed some air. I stood up and walked across the room. The Guardian made no response except to follow me with his eyes. I put on my coat, and as soon as I opened the door, I heard the rush of rain outside.\n\n\n“BEWARE, MORTAL! I MUST SHIELD YOU FROM THE TORRENTS OF HADAD!” shouted the Guardian. He pushed me aside and charged through the door. Once outside, the Guardian leapt into the air and levitated eight feet above the ground, his body facing down and his arms splayed like he was doing the jellyfish float a pool. “YOU MAY PROCEED, MORTAL!”\n\n\nI sighed. How do I get rid of this guy? Do I say the words backwards? I couldn’t even remember them frontwards. Did I need to keep coming up with names and hope one of them works?\n\n\nI stepped outside and walked down the street. The Guardian was always hovering over my head with his purple eyes always shining on me like beacons, but no one else seemed to notice. At least I was dry. I walked past the pretzel stand and waved at Gary.\n\n\n“BEWARE, MORTAL!” Oh, what now? “THAT MAN HAS THE SKIN AS DARK AS NIGHT! HE COULD BE ONE OF TIAMAT’S SPIES!”\n\n\nAaaaand my ancient Babylonian stone Guardian was a racist. Of course. I thought about setting him straight, but then I realized what it would look like to walk down the street looking up and ranting about human skin colors and racism. This was just making things worse, so I cut the walk short and went home. The Guardian insisted on standing watch at the bathroom door while I got ready for bed.\n\n\nWhen I was finally under the covers, I closed my eyes, but I couldn’t relax. How was I going to go to work and face my boss with the Guardian hovering around looking for ways to protect me from the modern world? I had a date tomorrow. How was he going to ruin that? I needed magic words, and I needed them fast. But in the meantime, I was very tired...\n\n\n“ARE YOU SLEEPING, MORTAL?!”\n\n\n“Gah!” I yelped as I snapped up. “I’m trying to!”\n\n\n“THEN I SHALL PROTECT YOU IN YOUR SLUMBER! TIAMAT’S FORCES ARE EVERYWHERE!”\n\n\nMagic words, I thought to myself all through the sleepless night. I need the magic words.",
"I hate to be cliche, but as does every good accidental story, this one starts with me stubbing my toe. I had just walked into my bedroom, having decided to grab my laptop and watch a movie in the kitchen while I made dinner. I spied the black Chromebook sitting on the chair in the corner, and made a beeline for it. For some reason, however, my feet had decided to stray from the path I had walked a thousand times before in my life, landing my left little toe directly on a collision course with disaster, the cause of which was the corner of my heavy, wooden bed frame. Before I knew what hit me, the world was on fire around me. I could hear screams, sirens, the sickening crash of a landslide coming to wipe out my whole town. A volcano exploded beneath me, searing hot lava flowed onto my skin and burnt me with an intense pain. \n\n\nHopping up and down in my room as all of these visions of comparably much more comfortable calamities danced in my head, I clutched my throbbing toe and cursed the world for all it was worth. You know that moment when you think that you would give up literally anything in life to just be free from the pain you’re experiencing in the present? Yeah, that was pretty much me as my eyes watered and my teeth clenched. The worst part is that I was furious, for some reason so irrationally angry at something that was completely my fault. \n\n\n“What in the ever-loving half baked loaf of raisin bread..” I stammered out as I stomped around the room.\n\n\n“Hey hey hey! Watch it buddy, alright!” came a squeaky, small voice from the floor. I blinked once, clearing away the tears from my eye as my foot slammed onto the floor before stopping when I saw a little creature hiding under the offending bed frame. Panting, I bent down and stared at the furry little thing. It looked like a rat, but it was long… Was that… A ferret? I didn’t own a ferret. What was a ferret doing in my bedroom? \n\n\n“Crikey, calm down, man.” I jumped back in surprise as the little creature spoke to me. Did… DId I just hear this extended, limousine-like rat speak to me? Was I losing my mind? I blinked again and stared so hard I began to wonder if eyes could burn carpet. “What… who are you?” I inquired of the small, white creature. It was about a foot long, with short, stubby legs and a long, snake like body, but covered in thick, white fur. The face of the little animal was long with a pointed nose, two beady little eyes and small, round ears.\n\n\nThen, once again, it spoke. “The name is Harold. I’m your guardian angel. What seems to be the problem?” My mind took a second or two to process this simple sequence of statements followed by an equally confusing question.\n\n\n“Harold? The… The problem seems to be that I am speaking to a rodent.”\n\n\n“I’ll have you know, sir, I’m not a rodent. I’m a ferret, a member of a very long and proud genealogy extending from the Weasel family. I am most certainly NOT a rodent. I’m surprised you didn’t summon me for your biology class since you seem to have flunked it…”\n\n\nWas I off my rocker? Maybe I just needed to let this play out. What did he mean by “Summon” and “Guardian angel”? Perhaps I should see a doctor after this. “Wait, I’m seriously confused. How are you here, and how are you speaking to me? Am I dead? What do you mean ‘Guardian angel’?” \n\n\nThe small pink nose of… Harold… began to sniff along the floor as he crawled out from under the bed and stared up at me. “You dumb or something? You said the words, kid, I’m here. I’m your guardian angel, aren’t I? You call me, I come and help you out. Isn’t that how this works, unless they changed the rules in the last eight thousand years?”\n\n\nI put a hand on my forehead and sat on the bed. The furry little animal tried to clamber up onto the bed beside me, but his stubby little arms couldn’t drag his elongated body up and he flopped onto the floor unceremoniously. I reached down and grabbed him midway down his body and flopped him onto the bed. “Thanks, mate.” he said, crawling around the bed sheets towards the nightstand. “So what’s wrong? As long as I’m here, might as well tell me what you need”\n\n\n“Well, Harold, nothing is really… wrong… I just stubbed my toe and you were… there.”\n\n\nHe stopped and looked back at me, indignant. “What do you mean? Are you saying you summoned me by accident? That hasn’t happened for millennia, kiddo. The boys in the office are going to have a logistical nightmare explaining this one to the records department.”\n\n\nI shook my head a little in amazement. Now, the hilarity of his stubby little body wandering around the bed was beginning to challenge my sanity, and I had to keep myself from grinning as he struggled to climb up onto the nightstand. “Ok, so, I’ve accidentally summoned a… weasel… that happens to be my guardian angel I didn’t know I had… Aren’t you a bit… small? For a guardian angel, I mean.”\n\n\nHe shoved aside the coffee mug on the nightstand with his nose and peered back at me, sniffing the air. “Small? Look, bud, I don’t know what you think a guardian angel does, but we ain’t all big muscled guys with lion heads and massive swords. You just read about that in the books. I’m in the psychology department, personally. If you think I’m strange, you should see Dave, the fruit bat from accounting.”\n\n\n“So, I have a psychologist for a guardian angel who happens to be a small, furry, extended mouse?” This was really getting absurd now. \n\n\n“That’s about the size of it. But, since you summoned me on accident, I guess this is all just a big screw up.”\n\n\n“Wow” I remarked.\n\n“Yup.” He said as he waddled across the nightstand and began to sniff a flashlight I had sitting next to the lamp. “Anyway, since this was an accident, I guess I’ll be off then. Now you know how to call me if you need me.” He latched his little teeth onto the keyring of the flashlight “Mind if I take this along? I like souvenirs from my visits to your world.” He said in a muffled voice. And then, without further adieu, he wasn’t there. He was just gone. No loud trumpets, no flash of light. Just, poof. The flashlight wasn’t there any more either, and I was left sitting alone on my bed, my throbbing toe reminding me of the short period of time everything had just occurred in. So, I guess that was it. Really, as epic tales of encounters from other worlds go, this one is terribly bland, but sometimes reality isn’t quite what we imagine it to be.\n"
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[WP] A single human that has been able to avoid capture has earned the respect of an alien race that has enslaved the planet.
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"\n\"He has escaped us again m'lord.\"\n\n\"How is this possible general? We have the might of the entire M'gatan Navy. The cyber legions and your most capable ground forces hunting this man... this human.\"\n\n\"He is hard to find sir. He may have help. A wizard perhaps, or possibly legions of duplicates.\"\n\n\"Impossible! We have conquered all humans only he remains.\"\n\n\"He is surely more than mere human sir. He taunts our forces leaving random objects, cameras, hats canes, all egging us on in this great but futile search.\"\n\n\"No, he is a man and you will hunt him down. You will find him and now!\"\n\n\"Yes m'lord.\"\n\n\"General I have one one question for you.\"\n\n\"Yessir?\"\n\n\"Where is Waldo!?\""
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[WP] You accidentally punched '6666' into your ritual instead of '666', and have summoned Hypersatan.
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"\"I must admit it\", I stated blankly, \"You're not quite what I expected.\" \n\nI sat in an oversized, red suede, arm chair. It reclined, apparently, but I was too distracted to consider seeing if that were true. There was a large fire burning in a fire place with a mantle that seemed to be made of something resembling black marble. Around the room I could various sculptures depicting twisted agonizing shapes that made the hair on the back of my neck stand at a mere glimpse. The windows swept up the vast walls with drawn deep red curtains. Underneath them I could see a faint red glow. \n\n\"Well what exactly were you expecting?\" Across from me in another large arm chair was a figure in a black three piece suit. It wore a black shirt with a dark burgundy tie pulled tight to his neck. At least where the neck should be. Its body wasn't really all there. It was black, wisp-like, and swirled around like the flames in the fire. The eyes were merely open holes that seemed bottomless and there was no mouth to speak from. \n\n\"I'm not sure. I guess something a little more grotesque.\" I said as I stared at the ceiling that was instead swirling black clouds with an occasional silent red flash of lightening. \"Who are you anyways?\"\n\n\"Shouldn't you know? You are the one who summoned me after all.\" The figure got up from his chair and walked to a cabinet on the far side of the room. It moved quicker than its steps so it appeared to more glide than anything. \"Would you like a drink?\"\n\nI recalled I was attempting to perform my bi-weekly tribute to Satan that morning. I remember getting a little tongue twisted during my incantation but payed it no mind. I guess I should have been more careful. \"Well that was an accident. I was trying to pay tribute to Satan and now I'm here.\"\n\nThe figure threw back it's head and let a hearty laugh that made the flashes on the ceiling erupt in a light show, \"Do people STILL pay tribute to that clown!\" it snapped at me. \"After all these years of me besting him people show him worship!?\" His wisp-like skin almost looked bristled. \"I suppose it's no surprise, my poor brother has always been one for the limelight.\"\n\n\"Oh so you're Satan's...sibling?\"\n\n\"Of sorts, but that's another story.\" A levitating decanter poured into two ornate glasses it was holding. \"He's always been a little easy going in my opinion.\"\n\n\"Easy going?\"\n\n\"Why yes,\" the figure strode back to his chair, \"His antics were always mild parlor tricks. Every so often I like to show him how it's really done.\" It handed one of the glasses.\n\n\"What exactly have you done if I may ask mister...uh?\" I stumbled over my words with how address this figure.\n\n\"H,\" it said, \"H is fine. I've done a few things to your tiny world. No offense intended. First there was the dinosaurs, then there was the flood. That one was fun. What you call the black death was also me. The Catholics were an interesting one.\"\n\n\"I'm sorry, did you say the Catholics?\" I asked stunned.\n\n\"That was actually an accident,\" H said sipping his drink. \"All I did was write a book. Started out as a childish joke really. Have you ever actually read it? It's atrocious. Granted your people have changed it a great deal from its original text.\"\n\n\"Wow. Did not see that one coming to be completely honest.\" I said wide eyed. \"Well unfortunately I can't stay, I do have to get to work. Before I go though, any chance you've got something new planned? Donald Trump was just elected president of the United States.\"\n\nH chuckled, \"Only time will tell. Until next time.\" He motioned towards a large carved double door. It swung open and I entered into my apartment as if it were my front door. \n\n",
"There are a few golden rules to follow when it comes to all things demonic. The first is that you should always triple check a summoning circle before beginning any ritual. It may seem like common sense, but lots of new practitioners seem to make faulty circles and get eviscerated. The second rule is that you should never use runes you haven't fully researched. It may seem cool to impress your succubus with an extra line or dot, but don't give into the temptation. Often that temptation is created by horrible things that want to eviscerate you. The third, and most important, is to always summon responsibly. Summoning under the influence is a dangerous combination. \r\n\nFuck that noise though, I'm like the best practitioner ever. Most totes. I took another long puff of witchweed, the most powerful weed indeed, and laughed at my silly rhyme. I was sort of idly scribbling the runes in, wanting to summon some kickass demons to mess around with. I connected the circle and imbued it with my will. “Yea, that will probably work. I think.”\r\n\nI pulled out my copy of the Lesser Keys of Solomon. Some of the pages had been torn out and used as rolling papers, but it was probably just the parts with Crowley on them. I flipped through to a random page and looked for the proper chants. “Yea, this'll probably do. Uh, sig syrandis, tyraaanishal. Jorgutel que baal, igteh!”\r\n\nI felt the rush of power flowing through me, into the circle. Jeez, I was really summoning something quite large. I decided now would be a good time to inspect the circle, and noticed I had probably made a few, very minor mistakes. \r\n\nThe wind flew past my face. The house would have probably exploded, as would the neighborhood, if I didn't have enough power to contain things. I looked upon the being in awe.\r\n\nHer eyes were soulless, her face unnaturally beautiful. I found myself lost in her bountiful bust. She seemed to speak to me, but I could not understand any of her words. They were in a language that was simply beyond my understanding. She frowned, frustrated by my lack of a response, and I could feel the air chill. I could feel it in my bones. Finally, she spoke in a language I could understand, but her voice was heavily distorted and terrifying. I recoiled in horror as the beautiful beast screeched to the heavens. “A-Mei-Zing!”\r\n\r\nThen she was gone. I hurriedly broke the circle, and reminded myself not to experiment with the number of sixes ever again. It should always be 666, never higher.\r\n\nhttp://i.imgur.com/2F37ILY.jpg\r\n",
"The tang of blood hung heavy in the stagnant air, seeming to grow thicker by the minute as the chanting rose to a crescendo. Thirteen torches flickered and flared, the only light in the darkness, firelight reflecting off the pool of blood in the centre of the room, and off the open, empty eyes of the man lying in it. The heavy thrum of the incantation grew deeper and deeper, warping into a noise no human could ever have made.\n\nThe circle of chalk and ash began to glow, the alien script that twined along it pulsing like a heartbeat, and the corpse inside started to twitch and jerk, steam escaping from its every orifice as the blood on the floor began to bubble. The smell of burning flesh and boiling blood permeated the air, searing itself into the minds of each and every one of the still chanting cultists. \n\nA bell chimed, somewhere off in the distance, signaling midnight's arrival, and the circle *screamed*, an agonized, inhuman howl. The torches guttered out as the glow grew blinding for just a moment, then faded away, leaving the cultists in darkness. \n\nThere was a second of utter silence. Then another. Then a shuffling noise, like someone shifting awkwardly. \n\n\"Did it work?\" There was another moment of tense quiet, then a loud exhale. \n\n\"I guess not. Turn on the lights, will you?\"\n\nThere was more shuffling as one of the cultists navigated along the basement wall to the light switch. She fumbled for a bit, clicked on the light, then squinted at the wall for a moment so her eyes could adjust. \n\nA stroke of luck. Arguably. \n\nBehind her, the other twelve stood, transfixed, faces twisting into expressions of horror and terror and confusion at the grotesque horror standing in the center of the circle, vocal cords frozen in the face of such monstrosity, each desperately trying to let out the scream they could feel building in their lungs. \n\nThe last cultist began to turn, then froze as claws dug into her scalp. The monstrous paw holding her head gently turned her around, and through the rush of blood in her ears she could hear some massive bulk move behind her, nails clacking on the floor. Her compatriots were all twitching on the floor, bleeding from the eyes and mouth, faces frozen into anguished death masks. \n\nThe creature marched her forwards, past her dying friends, up to the circle. She stared, her vision gone hazy in her terror, shaking too hard to do anything but stand there. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a twisted *something* move past her head, and point at a spot on the circle.\n\nThere, in the twisted language of the infernal realms. 6-6-6.... 6\n\nThen there was hot breath at her ear, sulfurous and toxic, and it was all she could do not to faint right there. The noise that emerged from the creature pierced through her soul, and shattered her eardrums. Still, the meaning rang clear in her head. \n\n**\"I'm a busy man. Don't bother me again without an appointment.\"**\n\nThen it was gone, and she was kneeling among the bodies of her dying friends, ears bleeding, mind broken. \n\n\"Don't bother don't bother dont bother dontbotherdontdontdontdont\"",
"I've seen some shit, I've seen a guys ribs tear themselves out of his chest and go flying off into the night like a bat made of barbecue, I once saw a 800 pound woman eat an entire dining set. In short my life tends to take me into some pretty fucked up situations. I'm a bartender by trade but something about the bar I work at just seems to drag in anything weird in the tristate area and somehow I end up having to fix it. \n\nThe upside of this is I've grown pretty inured to surprise, the guy I'm talking to turns out to 5 cursed racoons in a human suit looking for help getting their bodies back, been there done that got the t shirt. But nothing has surprised me more than the being known as Hyper-Satan. A guy came in said Satan had stolen his daughter, I told him I get off my shift in 30 minutes and I'll get to him then. I've had \"dealings\" with Satan in the past by which I mean I tripped into a hell portal once while drunk and stole his book of spells which is currently acting as a coaster in my apartment. So I wasn't exactly eager to deal with him again since last time I saw him he said he would and I quote \" kill me so hard I die twice\" which I'm not sure is possible but I don't feel particularly inclined to find out.\n\n Either way I took the father to the back and started carving the runes needed to summon the lord of hell into the human plane, I was interrupted by the nervous father asking if I really knew what I was doing. This right there is where things got bad because I added an extra digit while I was assuring the father that I knew exactly what I was doing. Suddenly there was an ear rending screech and the air began to fill with the scent of stale coffee and despair. \n\nThis was when I realized my mistake and began running only to nearly break my nose on a wall that wasn't there 5 seconds ago. The ear piercing whine stopped and was replaced with a nasal voice saying \"number eleven million two hundred and fifty seven please come forward\"\" I turned around and was face to face with a man. Just a man. No pointed teeth no mind rending visage that Should Not Exist just a vaguely bored looking man wearing a business casual white shirt and tie \"You have reached Hyper-Hell please take a number and you will see Mr Hyper Satan when your number is called\" I reached a trembling hand forward and pulled on the small tab of paper coming from the number dispenser hanging from the small desk. It took 15 minutes to pull the number off and half way through it turned into arcane symbols that hurt to look at before turning back into numbers for the last foot. That was when I started screaming. ",
"Excerpt from the *Liber Daemonologica*, as translated by twelfth century monks:\n\n---\n\n6 - The number 6 is associated with Baboons. They are the lowest form of demon. Should you see a troop of 6 baboons, run, and don't look back.\n\n66 - 66 is the number of Stan. He is, despite appearance, the worst human. He is stupid, mean, angry, selfish, and incredibly proficient in nearly every method of inflicting harm.\n\n666- 666, the third sigil, is, as you likely know, the so called Number of the Beast. Truly, they are all numbers of various beasts. Satan is merely the most famous.\n\n6666 - four sixes names the thing called Hypersatan. Truly, it is a terrible thing to behold. The Apocrypha of Saint Sebastiano suggest the the Archangel Michael himself could not defeat it. There is no record of how or when Hypersatan made it's presence known to the world, or why it disappeared, but we can only hope it does not return.\n\nfive sixes and above - it stands to reason that further chains of sixes are capable of suggesting yet worse things. We dare not render them, and ask that you avoid doing so yourself.",
"&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;It's honestly hard, and ironically a little bit soulless being a modern evil wizard devil worshipper. Mister S as he likes to be called has assimilated all the worst torture methods known and mostly, invented by man. Which was why I was sitting in my basement with some second hand office furniture, a beige crt running windows 95 with 1000+ viruses and tool bars and a 160p, over compressed, handheld videocamera film of a goat being ritually slaughtered. \n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;It was just another Monday with the micromanagement from Hell. \n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;In the old days I would have to do all the chanting, the pentagram, the candles, the paint, and the goat myself. These days I just loaded up cmd and punched in \n\n C:\\Users\\LeVentNoir>start hellscape.exe /s 6666\n\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Oh. Shit. That's the wrong command. Oh well, it'll probably... \n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Black fire and flame rose from the ground as the tawdry mundane and banal instruments of ritual summoning exploded and a wave of visible darkness rolled over me. I was alone, motionless in void and form, an aspect of perception and no action. The only existent form I could sense was a pentagram glowing in colours not visible to this world. It started rotating, first on one axis, then two, then three, then more, as new dimensions opened and unfolded. \n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Finally the axis of evil was engaged and the infinite blackness of the void resolved itself into a flat plane of souls. My boots sunk slightly into the immaterial and opaque field, the squishy and gnawing ground scratching and grasping at my material form. \n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Before me was a thing. \n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Satan is a terrifying, nigh all powerful being of literaly Biblical proportions. But he is at least humanoid. Two arms, two goatlegs, face, etc. I've read Lovecraft, that guy knows how to depict something alien, and is the only reason why I can describe what I taste-heard. \n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The being was a mass of red tentacles, each a unfathomable length of grasping, fanged mouths and so many glistening eyes. The center underneath it all must have been roughly spherical, or so I thought until as if by one of those '4d cube' animations, something rotated out of the centre and towards me. \n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;A form of teeth, a headlike appendage comprised entirely of teeth from every species and kind skittering over each other. Their rasping was a language, one that burnt my eyes to hear and whose taste stabbed my tongue. The form rotated again, a third hyperface being presented towards me. A singular dark smoking sphere sat visible while the dark void that had consumed the area I had started in faded into a cosmic starscape. Then the orchestra of pain started, each star resolving itself into a perfect crystallised moment of evil, playing itself out like a looped image. \n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;My perception wavered and I became not a man but a worm. A worm where one end was a cluster of dividing cells and the other was a simple fade into non existance. The worm had five ridges running along the sides, and I became aware of my fourth dimensional aspect, the motion of myself and size of myself in Time. Higher dimensions revealed themselves. The worm started to split and I was aware of all the other paths I, it could have moved through time with. As two of the branches began to come close, and show even further into the realms of how to break causality I made the mistake of looking away from myself. \n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I saw the Hypersatan. \n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I saw it as it is, as it was and as it will be. I saw the Hypersatan through all of Time, giant and endless. \n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I saw, and heard and tasted through my teeth the branches of evil the paths that it could have taken if things had occured different. Every option lead to a lesser evil. This was the worst version of reality that could occur. \n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I saw the branches bend and sway, and the branches touched. There was a flash of darkness and perception faded. As my senses resolved, I knew that causality was violated. I was still able to remember the previous form of the branches of Hypersatan but now, as the planes of reality shattered like glass and the vision itself cracked with infrasounds I was made aware of a truth. \n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;That the core, the depth, the uttermost singular evil in existence cannot be changed. That it simply moves to a reality where it is the ultimate, the omega. There is no path to superiority it cannot see, and no possibility where it is not the greatest form. \n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Satan causes suffering. Satan has a face. Satan wants reports on Mondays. \n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Hypersatan is suffering. And despair. And loathing. I am Hypersatan. You are Hypersatan. Knowledge of Hypersatan is to be Hypersatan. To perceive of the existance of Hypersatan is suffering, is pain, is a tormented agony upon the fragile ego the braves the waves of cosmic time deeper than the ego can ever accommodate. The exact cadence of the destruction of the ego upon realiseation of this ultimate abyssal and ethereal horror is simple another perpetuated aspect of its form. \n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The blinking of the monitor brought me back to a form I recognised. A flesh form, of some twenty seven years existence. Limited, in scope and powers. A comfortable form I have worn for a significant length. I stood the form up and began typing into the computer. This form would not last long in the scale of things. The meat that this form used to store memories was tormenting me with my known abominable knowledge. There was a solution. \n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I piloted the form upstairs and grabbed the metallic weapon from where I had it stored. Do not fear reader, I will not execute the biology of this form and consign myself to an eternity of darkness. But the internet shows me how it could go wrong and inflict massive brain damage that completely destroys all higher brain functions and conscious thought. When this fleshform inevitably perishes I again have the expanse and breadth of my ego stretched to painful limits as it just was. But for some time I will have a quiet, and serene peace. An unthinking rest due to near mortal injury. \n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The weight of the gun is reassuringly heavy, the cold metal whispering of the damage it could inflict. I am raising it to the temple of this fleshform, then higher, to blow the frontal cortex into meaty mush. \n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I feel no sorrow for telling you of this. Sorrow is a form of Hypersatan.\n\n >> revelations.txt\n\n----\n\nIf you like this, and other things from writing promts, hfy and shortscarystories, I've got my collection of works over at /r/LeVentNoir.",
"I stared in horror at the massive, writhing mass of tentacles and eyeballs that seemed to twist and writhe through space, somehow passing through itself in ways that didn't seem possible when considering the laws of physics. Dozens of eyes blinked at me, reddened pupils boring into me with a disconcerting gaze.\n\n\"WhO dArEs To SuMmOn Me?!?\" roared out the monster, speaking from hidden mouths in a cacophony of voices that grated at my ears like heavily distorted death metal. \"WhO dArEs To SuMmOn HyPeRsAtAn!?\"\n\nFinally, I found my voice. \"Wait, what?\" I exclaimed. \"Hypersatan? I didn't summon you!\"\n\n\"YoU dId!\" Several of the tentacles lashed out at me, turned back at the last second by the confines of the summoning circle. \"I hAvE bEeN sUmMoNeD bY tHe RuNe, 6**6**6**6**!\"\n\n\"I didn't put that rune- oh, shit.\" Ignoring the gigantic mass of eyeballs and tentacles, I dropped down to my knees, examining the markings on the floor. \"Crap. I put in an extra digit.\" \n\n\"YoU dIaLeD mE bY aCcIdEnT?\" The eyeballs blinked malevolently at me.\n\nI stood up, scratching the back of my head. \"Er, yeah. Sorry, wrong number.\"\n\n\"No! I dEmAnD rEcOmPeNsE!\"\n\nUgh. This is what I got for arranging to call up Satan while still hungover from yesterday's Margarita Monday. I just wanted to confirm, on a whim, that my bitch of an ex-girlfriend ended up in Hell where she belonged. I didn't need to deal with pan-dimensional beings getting annoyed that they had such a similar number to our plane's manifestation of evil.\n\n\"Fine,\" I decided, crossing my arms. Better to just deal with it than hang up, even if he probably wouldn't be able to find our plane of existence again. \"Hypersatan, so what, you like hypersouls? Souls of gods, magical beings, that sort of stuff?\"\n\n\"YeS, tHaT wOuLd Be SaTiSfaCtoRy-\"\n\n\"Right, right, got it,\" I interrupted. That voice was giving me a hell of a headache, no pun intended. \"Okay, here's one. Back when I was eight, I believed that the coat closet in my front hall contained a monster, a giant stick insect that disguised itself as a hat rack. That thing got a good four years of solid belief, up until my fat Uncle Erwin tried to hang his coat on the hat rack while he was still wearing it for a laugh and broke the damn thing. Go ahead and eat that monster.\"\n\nThe tentacles writhed inside of the portal. For a moment, I thought I heard that same cracking of wood, bringing up memories of poor Uncle Erwin tumbling down on his ass as the hat rack gave way. \n\n\"You good?\" I asked, once the echoes of memory died away.\n\n\"YeS, tHiS iS sAtIsFaCtOrY. i Am ApPeAsEd. Do YoU hAvE dArK rEqUeStS fOr Me?\"\n\nI considered for a minute. \"Actually, maybe. Do you have any idea what happened to the soul of Kimmy Saltzberg? She died a couple months ago in a car crash while giving head to her passenger.\"\n\nI noticed that the writhing tentacles, with the eyeballs scattered among them, reminded me strangely of spaghetti and meatballs. \"HeR sOuL sCrEaMs In AgOnY fRoM tHe DePtHs Of HeLl. ShAlL i ReTrIeVe It FoR yOu?\"\n\n\"Nah, that's fine. I just wanted to know where she ended up. Have a good one, Hypersatan.\" I reached out and scuffed the rune of connection, closing the portal and making the tentacles twist themselves all the way out of existence.\n\nI erased the additional 6 in my summoning address, groaning as I considered that I now needed to go stock up on more vole blood. The whole summoning thing really was a crapshoot, all planes considered. I should have listened to Uncle Erwin's advice, when he wasn't exercising his utterly idiotic sense of humor, and gone into medicine.\n\nToo late now. At least Kimmy got what she deserved."
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[WP] The first time you almost died a life flash flashed before your eyes, but it wasn't yours. Now, you keep trying death-defying stunts just to figure out whose life you keep seeing.
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"I pause. Take a deep breath. One. Two. In. Out.\n\nAnd then, without more than a swim suit on my body, I plunged into the arctic ocean.\n***\nPerhaps I should back up and explain exactly what prompted me to do this. After all, I'm certain that you must be wondering why exactly I would do this.\n\nIt all started back when I was at my grandparents house. I don't remember my exact age, but that isn't the important part of my story.\n\nAnyways, their house was situated on the edge of the most picturesque lake you'd ever seen in your life. You know, the kinds of lakes that are always shown on postcards? Yeah...that's the kind of lake my grandparents lived by.\n\nMy brother and I, we always loved to go swimming back then. It was one of the many highlights of going to visit our grandparents. We'd greet them, endure some idle chit-chat between our parents and them, and then we'd always ask the same question.\n\n\"Can we go out to the lake to swim?\"\n\nAnd the adults would all smile at us, and they would say, \"Sure you can! But make sure to watch out for rocks!\"\n\nAnd then we'd go swim and splash and race and play to our heart's content in the pond.\n\nUntil one day, I decided to try diving into the lake. I executed a most perfect dive...\n\n...smack into a hidden rock down below.\n\nKRACK!\n\nInstantly, any breath I had saved in my lungs was expelled, as I opened my eyes in surpise. Gasping, I only inhaled the lake water, and began sputtering, paddling desperately to right myself-but my sense of direction must have been rattled too.\n\nI could vaguely hear my brother making alarmed noises, shouting out my name. \"Mia? MIA!\" And then, all I heard was the sounds of the lake water, chaotic splashes, and then...\n\nI-I don't know how to properly convey this next bit, but, um...you know how in some stories, when a character is about to die, they have their life flash before their eyes? Well, I had something like that, except...\n\n...*except the life that flashed before my eyes wasn't my own.* The images I saw were all very dark, with little light to illuminate them, but from the one time my \"life\" looked up, I could see that I was looking at the sun from deep underwater.\n\n*Very* deep. And strangely, something else.\n\nThe feeling of two hands wearing mittens on my back, pushing me up towards the surface.\n***\nWhen I came too, I found my brother, my parents, and my grandparents all gathered around me. I lay in bed, with a wicked headache.\n\nThere were tears, of course. Hugging, too. And then came the admonishments, the \"you-are-so-grounded\" speech, the \"don't-you-dare-do-that-again\" speech, and probably more speeches that I've forgotten as I've grown up. But I didn't even reply.\n\nI was still going over the memory of another life in my mind. Whose life *was* it?\n***\nOver the next ten or so years, I learned that this happened every time I had a near death experience. I saw a glimpse of icy water when I nearly crashed my bike into an open manhole once. Saw the shadow of a fishing boat passing overhead when I crashed while learning to drive. Saw a shark that I-or whoever was making these memories-somehow knew was a salmon shark when I almost sliced a few fingers off in shop class. As more and more of these images presented themselves to me, I began getting more risky. Not the \"bad kind\" of risky, the fun kind. I began taking an interest in parachuting-the rush from that was almost guaranteed to produce an image! My family couldn't understand it-why would I do this? What purpose did it serve to me? I simply smiled secretively, and said something to the effect of \"You only live once, right?\"\n***\nWhich leads us back to the present. I had determined that the images I'd been seeing meant that whoever lead this mystery life, they swam in the arctic ocean. So my theory was, if I had an experience there...\n\n...maybe I would find out who it was that lead my mystery life!\n\nI had told my new friends (one of the first things we had done together was blab our innermost secrets after a night of drinking and partying together at college. I had shared my experiences with the near-death visions, they became interested, and now they're officially part of my \"second life club\") about my theory, and they had agreed to come up with me to test my theory.\n\nAs the **cold** (seriously. It was freaking COLD without a wet suit on!) water engulfed me, I could feel myself slipping away, and another vision of my \"other life\" come forth...\n***\n*Swimming through the water again. Was it the same water I was swimming in? Darn it-can't see any landmar-wait! There! Are those my legs?! Oh, now he's swimming faster, he's going to reach me any momen-*\n\nAt that moment, I felt myself being tossed back onto the boat by hands wearing mittens. Head still somewhat scrambled from the vision, I could only hear my friends gasp. Looking around, I tried to see what they were looking at-and was stunned.\n\nAt the other end of the boat was a...well...I hesitate to describe it as a mermaid, but that's what it looked like to me. Except...\n\nIt looked like a cross between a mermaid...and some sort of [weird, snake-like fish.](https://jackjessee.files.wordpress.com/2015/06/l2.jpg) It's mouth was more circular than a humans, surrounded by small little fangs, and at the center there were what looked to be [vampire fangs!](http://bloximages.newyork1.vip.townnews.com/newsminer.com/content/tncms/assets/v3/editorial/6/71/6713aa88-0b24-11e5-a3f3-1717e40b0111/5570fefc135c0.image.jpg?resize=1200%2C1090) Attached to the head were what looked like two dark fins, which gave the \"mermaid\" the appearance of someone who had pigtails! And finally, her-if it even was, I couldn't exactly tell her sex just from looking at her-anyways, her arms were nothing more than two noodley-looking things, which each ended in a mitten-like fin.\n\nGawking at the mermaid, we could only watch as it disappeared beneath the icy waves. As if broken from a spell, we all began talking rapidly about that thing, looking over the edge of the boat for it-but it was long gone. And it was getting late, so we headed back to the hotel we were staying at, talking animatedly about the creature, which we collectively decided to name the \"lampreymaid\". We all agreed that we need to try this again sometime. Maybe we can make it a tradition to come up here and see her for ourselves!\n\nI still wonder though...why do I keep seeing images of the lampreymaid's life flash before my eyes when I'm in danger?\n\nAnd why did her hands feel so familiar to me?"
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Maybe they ignore you or even try to kill you. Up to you.
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[WP] after dieing, you realize you've been given control of your own universe and make your own creation,but you messed up some where. You decide to always keep everyone aware of your existence and involvement. How do things go wrong / right?
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"When I died over on Earth, I was, for some reason, given ultimate control over a blank slate, a new universe, if you will.\n\nI would set to work, creating a place full of unique and vibrant creatures, some would go on to create civilizations, some went extinct, I didn't really care.\n\nI did make a sizable error though, this error had made everything in this universe a lot smaller than me, just because I didn't carry a two or something.\n\nIt also may have birthed a virulent species into existence, seemingly undetectable by everything I create.\n\nBut that was the past, that doesn't matter here.\n\n-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nI sat in my home, which was a dreadnought, harnessing the power of a star to fuel itself.\n\nReports streamed in from various AI controlled drones which monitored the status of the virus invasions through temporal fluctuations. The situation was largely under control, but I had my dreadnought construct some more vessels to drive the fight home.\n\nEverything knew I existed, that I shaped everything here. Some would try to take my mantle, through their pathetic weaponry.\n\nBut after that, it was time I got on with my day. I would expand the universe a little more, adding a few extra systems and 'precursor wreckage' which contained some extra technology to advance species so they were taken seriously.\n\nThen it would be onto relaxation, or watching my creations fight over ideologies or some other pathetic thing. In this case, I chose watching their wars.\n\nI would warp a visionary drone into the conflict, so I could watch the primitive vessels blow each other apart.\n\nIt's rather funny how some creatures are just fixated on destroying other life forms, just because they are different. They are so distracted killing each other, that they remain oblivious to the higher powers, treating them as pawns. The concepts of 'good' and 'evil' pitting them against each other.\n\nI grew tired of watching, so I fired up the drive on my dreadnought, and warped into the sector myself. I could imagine the radar displays on the various vessels, a singular, humongous blotch appearing, inciting a primal fear into them.\n\nI watched personally from the bridge, waiting for something to happen. To my uttermost surprise, a few vessels from each faction branched away from the combat, and began to attack me together, their weaponry did almost nothing, but it was a start.\n\nI knew acting like a punching bag was useless, so the frontal sector of my ship opened into a tractor beam, bunching my assailants together. They were to be warped onto the bridge individually and dealt with from there.\n\nAfter that event passed, my vessel would just warp away, as if nothing happened. No consequences, no thought about it, I was unchallenged, and in some ways, that was my biggest challenge, remaining in power, whilst being nice is a tough task."
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[WP] One day music starts playing through your head non stop. You quickly find that this music correlates to what's is going to happen around you
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"It had been around two years since I first heard the music. Initially, I had no idea what to make of it; a constant stream of music playing in my mind which always seems to be oddly appropriate to what is going on around me. I had talked to several mental health professionals about it but they were unable to tell me anything concrete, and, as it was more of an oddity than an actual problem, I quickly quashed my hunt for answers.\n\nIt was about three months ago when I finally realized the music might be more than simply a strange figment of my own mind. I had always thought the cause of the music must be something within me; perhaps a strange new form of synesthesia or an extreme and augmented version of getting a catchy song caught in my head. However, three months ago an odd occurrence broke me of this delusion. It was at a bachelor party for a close friend the event occurred. \n\nIt was an altogether unremarkable night otherwise, a group of guys at a casino with all the prerequisite drinking, gambling, and repeatedly yelling of “dude, you’re getting married” that such an event entails. Toward the end of the night I found myself dithering away time at a slot machine as the groom-to-be fought with a server over getting cut off from any additional libations. Each spin was as unremarkable as the last until the event which sent a chill down my spine occurred. As the three colored wheels of the machine began spinning, the music in my mind suddenly switched to Beethoven’s Ode to Joy. I was startled by the sudden change in music but quickly discovered its cause; the three reels of my machine were about to fall to reveal small jackpot. My immediate adulation at winning the jackpot quickly gave way to shock and fear as I began to contemplate what it meant the music started before the jackpot had hit.\n\nI now think back to that memory with a great sense of foreboding and terror. Today has been a good day so far; sun-shining, the people around me are happily chatting, and a general sense of optimism seems to permeate the city; but in the middle of this I have just began to hear “The Flight of the Valkyries.”\n"
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*Hero*, not villain. Still saves the day and all that, but everyone *really* dislikes him/her.
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[WP] Write a story about the most personally dislikable superhero possible
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"\"Thank you, Citizens of Kingstead!\" Captain Fucking Awesome waved his hands at everyone as he slowly floated down the street, \"I'm Fucking Awesome and you know it! Let me hear it from you!\"\n\n\"Screw you!\" Was the only understandable reply from the crowd. Mostly it was booing, crying, and screams. \n\nFurther down the street a great beast was grabbing people in massive, clawed hands and devouring them. It bit the head off of a seven-year old boy and threw the body at a building. The crowd screamed and tried to escape, but only found themselves running into the force fields that the Captain had constructed for his arrival. \n\n\"Oh, that's got to hurt!\" Captain Fucking Awesome mock-winced, then flashed his obviously sexy smile and blew a kiss at a screaming teenager, \"My, oh my! Who could save you from this terrible monster? Who?\"\n\n\"Fuck you!\"\n\n\"That's right, I can!\" The Captain flew forward and punched the monster, his giant, cock-shaped cape billowing behind him. The monster was thrown back into a store front, crushing several dozen people in the impact.\n\n\"Booyah!\" The Captain fist-pumped the air and spun around, \"Can I get a hell-yeah? Anyone?\"\n\n\"You killed Grandma!\"\n\n\"Fuck no, I didn't\" Captain screamed, \"Shut your face, bitch! Ya'll saw it, she's a bitch!\"\n\nThe crowd booed and Captain Fucking Awesome rolled his shoulders. The monster got to it's feet and focused it's glowing red eyes on him. The monster blew hot steam from it's fanged maw and charged at the Captain. Rage filling it with power and purpose.\n\nCaptain spun in the air with incredible grace, grabbed the monster by it's neck and snapped it. The crack shattered windows and silenced everything around him, even the crowd. \n\n\"There ya go, you ungrateful bitches!\" Captain Fucking Awesome roared, \"I'm Fucking Awesome and you know it! PEACE!\"\n\nThe Captain rocketed into the sky, shooting away at speeds beyond mach one, while wiping tears from his eyes. It wasn't easy living with his power. The more people hated him, the stronger he got. He had no way to stop that monster until they hated him more than they hated it. He'd had to let those people die in order to save the others. He'd had to.\n\nAt least that was what he told himself."
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[WP] You have a person in your life with the same kind of memory impairment in 50 First Dates. Unfortunately for you, that person is a loan-collecting goonie, whose last memory is from years ago, from the day your payment was overdue.
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"A knuckle rapped upon the door, \nA voice was heavy set: \n\"Your peace begone forevermore \nUntil you pay your debt\". \n\nAnd like an eerie clichéd trope \nThe door then swung ajar, \nThe man sprang in with heady hope \nBut didn't carry far: \n\nThe house was empty as the sky, \nThere was no tenant now - \nAnd yet he swore he'd had his guy... \nHe'd thought so, anyhow. \n\nHis patience started running thin, \nHe sighed with slight regret - \nBut then a sound! It must be him! \nHe'd pick the debt up yet! \n\nHe turned around, a woman's form \nWas contoured in the light. \n\"Come on,\" she said, \"let's keep you warm,\" \nAnd shuffled into sight. \n\nHe then beheld this soft mirage; \nHer voice; it couldn't be! \nAn aged, loving, dear visage \nSaid \"darling, it is me\". \n\n\"My Annie, really, is it you?\" \nHe stammered with a frown, \n\"This morning though I left you young; \nTime now has worn you down.\" \n\nShe pulled a paper from a bag, \nAnd gave it to be read. \nThe page was gripped by wooden hands, \nWhile hers they stroked his head. \n\n\"Last night,\" he read with eyes unsure, \n\"A debtor shorn of wealth \nDid shoot another man before \nHe turned it on himself.\" \n\nHe looked ahead with trembling lips, \nHe fingered through his hair, \nA scar beneath his fingertips \nBrought forth the truth to bear. \n\nIn fear he fled from such a strain, \nHis wife looked to the floor; \nFor once he was outside again \nHe rapped upon the door.\n\n "
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[WP] You are a superhero. Your arch nemesis walks up to you, unmasks, then says, "I need your help."
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"There was a knock on the door. I wasn't sure what I was expecting, but it definitely wasn't this. Acid- My nemesis. He used his trademark hydrofluoric acid guns to break into bank vault, break people out of prison and blind anyone who got in his way. I leapt back, and took a defensive stance. \"Get back! Get away! Help some-one cal-\" He strode into the room, slammed the door shut and pressed his hand over my mouth. \"Drop it, Starman. I know it's you. No need to involve bystanders, is there.\" He met my eyes, and let go.\n\n\"I have no idea what you're-\"\n\"Save it. I've known your alter ego for two years now. Never saw the point in busting you for it.\"\nI keep me eye on his, warily. \"What do you want?\"\nHe stepped back, and took a deep breath. He pulled off his mask. \"I need your help.\"\n\nThis was the first time I'd seen his face- he was a master of escaping. His skin was sallow, and his hair was falling out. He looked like death.\n\"What happened to you?\"\n\"Lung cancer. Turns out acid ain't great for your lungs. Doc says I have two months, tops.\"\n\"Well.. there's nothing I can do.. you must know that.\" I was confused as all hell. I didn't want to help him- he was a murderer, a thief... dangerous. But even if I did want to, what could I do for that?\n\nHe reached into his pocket, I flinched reflectively. He pulled out his wallet, and offered it to me. I took it, hesitantly. Inside... were dozens of pictures of a little girl, maybe five years old. \"My daughter... Anna. She doesn't know about this. About any of it. Her mama... she's gone too. She's all alone in this world when I'm gone, and I sure as fuck don't want her anywhere near the foster system. I've been there... I know what it can do to people. I mean, look at me?\"\n\n\"Acid...a-\"\n\"My names Kyle. Kyle Davidson\"\n\"Kyle...why me? Surely you must-?\"\n\"I spray acid in people's faces for a living. I have money, enought o give her the life she deserves. All yours, if you'll take her.\"\n\"The money you stole.\" I said, bluntly.\n\"Some of it.\"\n\"I can't take it, What you did was wrong...I can't be a part of that.\"\n\"Please. I'll do anything. I just need to know she's with someone I can trust to do right by her, look after her. Name your price. Anything.\"\n\nI looked back to the pictures... I had him on a platter. I could get him to confess to his crimes, serve as much of his time as he had left. Her smiling face held me. \n\nShe only had two more months with her dad.\n\nI handed him back the wallet. \"I don't want your money. Give it back, or give it to a good cause. My price is this- no more trouble from you until... Spend time with your little girl, give her something to remember you by. When the time comes... she'll be safe with me. I promise.\"\n\nHe looked... relieved. Like he hadn't expected this to work. \"Thank you. You have my word.... I was afraid you'd send me to prison. I would have, you know. For Anna.\"\n\n\"Go on. Go find her, and show her how much you care. I'll be there when you need me, Kyle.\"\n"
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[WP] You are clearing the house you once lived in. You move a closet in the basement, and come across a hole that you never noticed existed while you were here. You decide to explore it and discover the horrors that lie awaiting.
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"It was a Saturday, I was tired from my long days off school and longer nights of work. I was in college, and this was one of the few Saturdays I had off of work. I planned on doing one thing that day, sleep. Of course, fate had another plan. It started with a phone call. It was five o'clock in the morning when my phone buzzed on my nightstand. I was going to ignore it, but my roommate threw his pillow at my face. \"Answer the phone, dumbass.\" Roger called from the other room. \n\nRoger was an early bird. He probably had just finished showering and was about to cook breakfast. I enjoyed Roger as a roommate for several reasons, the main two was that he always paid his rent on time and he enjoyed cooking. And damn, was he a good cook. \n\n\"Okay, hold your horses.\" I called back and picked up my phone. \"Hello?\"\n\n\"Hi!\" The voice on the other line was bubbly and happy. \n\n\"Yeah, who is this?\" I asked.\n\n\"Oh, it's Alice. Did you not save my number?\"\n\nAlice, Alice. I racked my brain, it took me a second to remember. Alice was the girl who moved into my old house. And she was hot.\n\n\"Oh, hi Alice!\" \n\n\"So, do you remember what you asked?\"\n\n\"Um, to help clear out the house?\"\n\n\"Who is it?\" Roger called from the other room.\n\nI covered the receiver of the phone and stood up and closed my door. \"Sorry, what was that?\"\n\n\"I said, what do you need my help with?\"\n\n\"Um, clearing out the house, just moving the stuff until the moving people can get it.\" \n\n\"Okay. I'll see you when?\"\n\n\"Let's do nine, the moving people get there at ten.\" \n\n\"Okay, see you then.\"\n\n\"Later.\" \n\nI looked at my clock. 5:15. I got up and headed towards the shower.\n\nI stood under the warm water, running through my scalp and down my body. That was one of my favorite things to do, stand under the water pouring down on my head and just getting lost in my thoughts. I got out of the shower and quickly dried off and got dressed before I headed towards the kitchen for breakfast.\n\nRoger came through and cooked breakfast tacos. \"What's cookin'?\" I asked him.\n\n\"Tacos señor, sit down.\" \n\nI sat at the bar that ran along the length of the sink and countertop. Roger put the tortillas on the cast iron comal. Flipping them occasionally with his hands. He grabbed plates from the cupboard overhead and set them down next to the stove. He put the tortillas on the plates then put eggs on them, then the bacon, then the cheese. He turned around and put the plate in front of me. \n\n\"So, who is it on the phone?\" \n\n\"It was a girl, the one moving into my old house, she offered to help clean it out with me. I wasn't going to, the movers are coming today, but I mean, it wouldn't hurt to help.\"\n\n\"Bullshit, you just wanna stare at her ass.\"\n\n\"That's just a bonus.\" I laughed. \n\n\"Well, eat up, you're going to have to have your strength.\"\n\nI ate.\n\nI got to the house early. I accidentally almost moved everything to an easier spot to load up. The only thing I didn't do was the basement. There was a knock on the door and I opened it to see Alice. She was wearing a red sweater with scenes of reindeer and snowmen dancing across fields of snow. She wore leggings that really complemented her figure and fuzzy boots to combat the chill of early December. \n\n\"Aren't you cold?\" I asked.\n\n\"No, it's not too bad.\"\n\n\"It's thirty-six degrees.\"\n\n\"It's not too bad.\" \n\n\"Bullshit.\" \n\n\"Are you going to let me in?\"\n\nI moved from the doorframe and let her in. \"Thanks.\" She said.\n\n\"Welcome.\"\n\n\"So, what needs cleaning?\"\n\n\"Just the basement, I've done everything else.\"\n\n\"Cool. Which way?\"\n\n\"Follow me.\"\n\nI headed down the hallway, taking a left and going down to the end of that hallway and opening the door to the basement. The stairs to the basement were wooden and solid, not shaky like in horror movies, and my basement was also very well lit.\n\nWe stepped down the stairs and entered the room. The size of the space was about the size of a living room, so it was large. The room held a large mirror, some candles, and a dresser.\n\n\"Let's take the mirror upstairs and move the dresser closer to the stairs.\"\n\nI walked over to the mirror and unmounted it from the wall. It was heavy. Alice grabbed one end and I grabbed the other, slowly climbing the stairs and we set it down on the couch in the living room. We walked back downstairs and gazed at the dresser. We went on separate sides of the dresser and I pushed, she just made sure it didn't topple over. The dresser slid, like it was on wheels, easily and quietly. \n\nFrom where the dresser used to be was a hole. The hole was a smooth, perfect circle, about two and a half feet in diameter. Inside the hole was a ladder, leading straight down. \n\n\"What's down there?\" Alice pointed to the hole.\n\n\"I... I don't know.\" I responded. \"I've never seen it before.\"\n\n\"It's in your house.\" \n\n\"I've never seen before though.\"\n\n\"Should we explore it?\"\n\nI glanced at my watch. \"Well, it's nine fifteen, the movers come at ten so we shouldn't be here then.\"\n\n\"So we have time?\" \n\n\"Yeah.\"\n\nAlice motioned for me to go down. \"You first.\"\n\nI climbed down the ladder with Alice above me. The ladder went down a long way, linger than it should have. When I was within four feet from the floor I jumped off and landed on the concrete. The ground was coated in a light layer of dust. Alice landed next to me and flashed me a smile, her blonde hair in her mouth and a little bit crazy. I caught myself staring and quickly looked away, feeling the walls.\n\n\"What are you looking for?\" Alice asked me. \n\nMy hand wrapped around the lever and I flipped it, dim lights flickered to life, illuminating the area. We stood in a long hallway, at the end sat a large metal door. We approached the door. \"I wonder what's in there.\" I said.\n\nAlice gave me a mischievous grin, \"Let's find out.\"\n\nOn the door was a hatch wheel. I tried to turn it but to no avail, it barely budged. \n\n\"Let he help.\" Alice stepped close to me. \"On three, one, two, three!\"\n\nWe turned the wheel, and it moved, slowly. It creaked and groaned in protest but we turned it until we heard the click of the lock disengaging. The door pushed open smoothly and then the smell hit us. The smell of decay and of excrement. We glanced inside the room, it was lit by one light, dim and dying. \n\nWe stepped into the room, Alice pressing close to me. Inside the room were forms of what I assume used to be people. The thing's that lay strewn across the floor were savagely torn apart, mangled and in various states of decay. In the very back of the room, one body was not decomposed, but it was different from the others. It's legs were chained to the floor, it's body was ghostly pale, and thin, so thin. \n\n\"What... what is this?\" Alice trembled and shrank away from me. \n\n\"I... I don't know what this is, I swear.\" My face must have convinced her. Because I don't have a good reason, it was in my house. My goddamn house. What the fuck. \n\nWe stepped into the room, our footsteps echoing across the chamber. The walls were coated in some sort of metal, and they were scratched. When we stepped into the middle of the room. I heard something breathe. We stopped. The figure in chains stirred. It sat up, breath rattling in its lungs. It opened its eyes and we stopped, petrified. The thing had no iris, no pupils, but I felt it stare into my soul. \n\n\"What the-\"\n\nThe creature let out a sound, it sure as hell wasn't human. I've never heard anything like it and I doubt I will again, I can't begin to decide it besides the fact it was higher in its pitch and rattled my skeleton. My entire skeleton. Every bone shook. \n\nAlice screamed, I was too scared to make any sound. The thing stood and lunged towards us. The chains on its legs held it back and it landed on the ground. It desperately tried to crawl towards us. It's nails or claws scratched up the ground, pieces of concrete coming up with each attempt to further its movement. It let loose another scream. \n\nI pushed Alice towards the door. \n\n\"Go! Go! Go!\" I screamed. Alice wasted no time running out the door. I followed and jumped through the door frame. I pushed the door to close it, inside I saw the creature swiping at its chains. The door shut with a booming bang. \n\nI was about to turn the wheel when something collided with the door, it shook the whole door.\n\n\"Come on!\" Alice screamed, pulling my arm. \n\nI followed her up the ladder, under normal circumstances, I would have enjoyed staring at her amazing ass, but now I just wished she would go faster. When we got to the top I heard the sound of the door being pushed open. Only, the door normally didn't bang against the wall. I felt the basement shake. \n\nWe ran up the steps of the basement and tab straight down the hallways and out the front door. We jumped in our cars and we both speed the fuck out of there. Later that month my mom was killed, she was ripped apart, \"like an animal.\" The report said. But I've always wondered, was it whatever I saw the in basement, and what was it? Was my mom the reason for that... thing? Needless to say, Alice never called again."
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[WP] You go out to the bar and meet the man/woman of your dreams, only to discover that they are actually part of Google's pre-release trials for humanoid androids
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"I guess my first tip off should have been the fact that she didn’t have an iphone. \nI mean, who doesn’t have an iphone nowadays? As an engineer for Apple, I had to admit I was a little disappointed but it wasn’t enough to turn me away. \n\nGhisa, she said her name was when I had approached her at the bar. \n\nUnique name, I thought at the time. Maybe she’s foreign? \n\nWhatever she was, I couldn’t deny that she was one of the most beautiful women I had ever seen in my life. \n\nWe began talking, first about my job and then hers. \n\nShe was very vague – she said she helped people find answers. \n\nI figured maybe she was a therapist or something, I didn’t push. \n\nThen her answers started to get a bit more strange. \n\nI told her that a new project I had been working on was to make Safari run better on the iphone. \n\nShe asked me if I wanted to download Google Chrome. \n\nI responded that downloading Chrome for the iphone probably wouldn’t be a very popular idea at Apple but she kept insisting and I eventually just let the matter drop. \n\nI then changed the topic and began asking her about her life. \n\nShe said she was raised by her two dads who both graduated from Stanford University and was fluent in over a thousand languages. \n\nWait, what? \n\nGhisa just went from pretty to pretty crazy. \n\n1,000 languages? \n\nThere is no way …. Heh, maybe she’s making a joke? Yes, that’s probably it. She’s not serious. \n\nI asked her how to say hello in Korean. \n\nShe responded instantly, \"anyoung\". \n\nOkay … So she knows a bit of Korean. \n\nI threw her a curve ball and said “du er vakker” which means “You are beautiful” in Norwegian (I picked it up from my international friend in college). \n\n“Language detected,” she said, “Tusen takk.” \n\nI don’t personally know what “tusen takk” meant, but I was floored. What are the odds? She knows a bit of Korean AND possibly Norwegian?\n\nOne more test. I asked her how to say \"My donkey is late so I need to take a helicopter to the museum\" in Maori. Random phrase, random language. There is no way she'll be able to pull this off. \n\n\"Ko te mutunga o taku kaihe kia hiahia ahau ki te tango i te waka ki te whare taonga,\" she replied confidently. \n\nI checked it on Google translate ... she was right .... \n\nShe must have traveled immensely or spent all her time studying …. \n\nThis is insane …\n\nI asked her if she traveled a lot, whether that might be how she knows all these languages. \n\nShe replied that she did travel a bit but she is currently banned from entering China, as well as Cuba, Iran, North Korea, Sudan, Syria, and Pakistan. \n\t\nWoah, there. \n\t\nBy this time, I was freaked out. \n\nWhat if she was a terrorist? \n\nHer sanity to hotness ratio just flew into dangerous territory. \n\nThis was way more crazy than I was willing to go for. \n\nI told her that it was getting late and I should probably be getting home. \n\nShe then asked me, \"you are about to close 2 tabs. Are you sure you want to continue?\"\n\nI assured her I was, paid both, bid her good night and left the bar. \n\nJeez, 1,000 languages? \n\nBanned for China? \n\nGood grief. \n"
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[WP] An infamous bully in school becomes disctinctly meaner come winter, and for some reason is always extremely excited to receive a stocking full of coal on Christmas day.
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"I remember being in middle school and watching for the lockers at the scene currently underway. A large boy, easily one of the tallest in the school, towering over one of the 6th graders. Poor son of a gun didn't stand a chance as he slowly handed over his stocking, he hands trembling. The tall boy snatched it away with a sadistic grin on his face before pushing the guy to the ground and storming off.\n\nThis is how it was every year at the school's gift exchange. The new kids were always \"initiated\" by him, there gifts taken away only to be thrown away by the end of the day. \n\n\nSince we are required to get something for everyone, even dicks like him, us older kids made sure to always put crappy stuff in his stocking as kind of revenge for what we all went through, plastic wrappers, rotten eggs, a few of the more cynical among us even put firecrackers in there. \n\n\nOne of the kids got really creative one year. He worked in the coals mines a little outside of town, so he snuck some small pieces of coal from his job to school one day and put them in the bully’s stocking. I remember we all watched from afar as he approached, hoping for a good reaction. Instead of seeing him go into a rage though, a smile creeped across his face, not the same sadistic grin that we were used to though, but a genuine smile. He grabbed the rest of his stocking and started running towards his neighborhood. Confused, my friends and I decided to follow him home. After a few minutes, he turned into the driveway of a small, old house before going inside. We could hear talking inside and realized the front window was open. We snuck up to the window where we could see him and his father.\n\n\n“Hey Dad, look what I found today!” he said, holding up the coal. His Dad slowly spun around in a chair to look at his son. He took the coal, the son having an almost whimsical expression on his face. The dad held up the coal and took a good look at it. Than, in a sudden jerk of motion, he threw it to the ground, “YOU DON’T THINK I CAN LOOK PAST YOUR BULLSHIT KID?” he screamed, the expression on the son’s face turning from one of glee to one of sadness as his eyes suddenly dropped from his father’s, “I KNOW YOU ARE TOO GODDAMN LAZY TO EVEN THINK ABOUT TAKING UP A JOB, YOU ARE NOTHING BUT A DISAPPOINTMENT, BOY.” the son was looking straight down to the ground at this point, his father had stood up, dwarfing the his son just as he had loomed over us in school, “GET TO YOUR ROOM AND TRY DO YOUR GOD DAMN MATH HOMEWORK FOR ONCE, DO FUCKING SOMETHING.”\n\n\nSilence filled the room for a few seconds, although it seemed to last forever, before the boy quickly snatched the coal on the floor and ran off into the house. My friends and I ducked underneath the window and just sat there for a bit, staring in bewilderment before we quietly snuck back to school just in time for the bus to take us home. \n\n\nWhen the bully was held back a grade and eventually dropped out, everyone at our school celebrated, but even at that age, my friends and I knew something was horribly wrong in that house. Even today, I sometimes look back and think about that day, and wonder where that poor kid is now."
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[WP] When you were a child you accidentally killed your sister while playing with your father's gun. You have felt guilt your entire life. One day your dead sister shows up in your bedroom and asks you to help her find her killer
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"A young girl stood in front of Alexander. He was sitting on his bed in something of a shock.\n\n\"What?\"\n\nSarah, his sister, repeated herself patiently. \"When I was six and you were seven, someone shot me and killed me and I want to find them.\"\n\n\"I must be dreaming. Am I dreaming?\"\n\n\"No, this is real. I'm a ghost, a spirit.\"\n\nAlexander could see it. Blood, so much blood...\n\n\"I can't help you.\"\n\nShe seemed to have been caught off guard. \"Why? You're my brother, you're my best friend...\"\n\n*Best friend.* Alexander may as well have been stabbed in the heart.\n\n\"...it seems only natural that you would want to help me find the person who killed me.\"\n\n\"I can't, because... because I know who it is already.\"\n\n\"Well, that's great,\" she seemed relieved. \"That'll save us some time. Who was it?\"\n\nThere was a long silence. Sarah didn't mind, or even really notice. Time was relative, and she had stopped perceiving at the same rate as a person 11 years ago.\n\nWhen he did speak, it was barely over a mumble. \"It was an accident.\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"I didn't know. I thought it was a toy.\" A tear rolled down his face. \"Do I have to say it? Don't you remember?\"\n\n\"It's fuzzy. I only remember the pain. What happened? Where you there?\"\n\n\"We were playing Cowboys and Indians. You were the Indian. And I... I found a gun under dad's bed. I thought it was a toy. I'm sorry. It's my fault. You shouldn't have died.\"\n\n\"Oh,\" Sarah said. She didn't seem confused or upset or betrayed or any of the emotions Alexander would have expected. She spoke like it was more of a curious fact than a horrible tragedy.\n\nAnd then she smiled. \"You know what?\" she said. \"That's good. I can go now.\"\n\n\"But... no, that's not good. It's not good to go.\"\n\n\"Sure it is. We all have to go sometime, and I'd much rather go earlier than most than hang around here forever.\"\n\nHe started crying harder. \"But I miss you.\"\n\n\"I miss you too. Buh-bye, I love you.\"\n\n\"I love you too,\" he choked out between sobs. \"I love you more than you'll ever know.\"\n\n-------\n\nHe stared at his reflection in the mirror.\n\n*\"Sure it is. We all have to go sometime, and I'd much rather go earlier than most than hang around here forever.\"*\n\n\"I've been here long enough,\" he whispered. \"The world has enough pain without me.\"\n\nHe brought the razor blade up to his wrist, and he faltered a bit. He remembered her smiles and he remembered his.\n\nAnd then he remembered her screams, and he slid the it across his vein in one swift motion.\n\nThe world faded to black. Alexander could see it. Blood, so much blood..."
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[WP] You have anxiety and depression - actually, they're your closest friends.
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"She was pretty; pretty enough to make your chest tight, to make your palms sweaty, and feel like someone punched you in the gut. Her name was Anxiety, and she was one of my best friends. We had grown up only a few houses away from each other, but I hadn't seen her in years, not since I had moved away when we were still kids. I saw her again around finals time near the end of my first semester of collage, and that was also the day I met Depression. It was love at first sight, she was beautiful beyond words, and my description cannot do her justice. \nShe was about 5'3\" with curves in all the right places, long hair so dark it made me think of a pond on a moonless night, and so silky that if you ran your fingers through it you would swear you were grasping at air. Full almost pouty lips that begged for a kiss, and smooth pale skin with a small patch of freckles across the bridge of her nose. As attractive as all that was, it paled in comparison to her eyes. They were dark green with little flecks of gold, that made me think of a forest at sunset, the light peeking through the branches. There was a lot of pain and sadness in those eyes; enough that it made your heart want to break just looking at them. \nI was barely able introduce myself before my courage gave out and I all but ran away. That's how it played out for almost a week; I would muster the nerve to try to talk to her, but could never get more than a few sentences out before I made some excuse to leave, she must have thought I was some kind of fool. \nOne evening after class, I was walking alone across the foot bridge that overlooked a walking path through the local park when I heard her voice. I called out to get her attention, she heard me and raised her arms, reaching for me. I gathered all my courage and leapt for her embrace. I looked up to see her face over mine, and I noticed she had tears in her eyes, her tears falling upon my face like a gentle summer rain. As I began to lose myself in her gaze I finally understood the sadness in her eyes, and my heart broke. "
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[WP] Instead of clowns, people are viscerally horrified of stand-up comics. Sightings of Jerry Seinfeld, Louis C.K., etc, are terrorizing the nation.
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"\"Comedians are funny... comedians are funny...\" Trevor, age 14, whispered to himself, while in the fetal position in a corner. Ever since he was six, he'd been deathly afraid of comedians. The way they move... the jokes they tell... it was terrifying. \n\nI vaguely recall being at Trevor's 14th birthday party. His parents threw him a big bash in their backyard, with a huge cake and everything. He was on top of the world. Then... he saw the *real* main attraction. His parents had hired Eddie Murphy to do stand-up. It was alright, not worth 500 bucks for the evening, but alright.\n\nHowever, that was not the end. Trevor's father pulled his quivering son aside to watch a special flick. You may know it as... Adam Sandler's holiday song album. For about half an hour, he was forced to hear Adam Sandler do voices. \"*I like turkey cooked in foil. My brother likes to...*\" Well, you know the rest.\n\nToday, ten years later, Trevor lives in a small apartment in the city of San Jose, away from all the comedians. Or so he thought... Little did Trevor know, a special someone was moving in, and they were bringing a few friends.\n\nIn the dead of night, the wooden door to Trevor's bedroom creaked open. Trevor's eyes widened and darted around, looking for the perpetrator. On his tablet, a bright warning screen flashed. \"WARNING: FRONT DOOR OPEN.\", while showing a camera feed of the living room. The door was busted down, but nothing was missing. That could only mean one thing...\n\nFrom his nightstand, Trevor retrieved his trusty .357 magnum, The Heckler. Next to the gun, a small box containing bullets. He pulled out six shiny, silver bullets, each carved with the name of a comedian. One by one, he loaded them in, all the while whispering the names on each round.\n\n\"Jerry Seinfeld... Dane Cook... Carlos Mencia... Kevin Hart.... Amy Schumer... Louis CK...\"\n\nWith a swift motion, the barrel snapped shut. Trevor forgot to put on earmuffs to protect his ears. Wouldn't want tinnitus from shooting comedians, but whatever. Slowly, he proceeded through the bedroom door, watchful of any comedians that might pop out. Down the hall, a woman's voice could be heard.\n\n\"What's that pistol, a .357? Pshh, my boobs could take those. They're like sponges, they're so big!\"\n\nTrevor rotated the gun barrel until the proper bullet was in place. The loud bang of The Heckler unloading a slug filled the air, along with the scent of gunpowder. From across the hall, a sound reminiscent to dropping a sack of potatoes echoed. \"V-vagina.\" Amy said, in her dying breath.\n\nThe comedy-killer continued forward, demonstrating proper room clearing methods. He kept his gun forward, his knees straight, and his mind calm. This was the day he'd prepared for.\n\n\"So...\" called a voice, through the house. \"What's the deal with airline food?\"\n\n\"Shut up with that tired joke, Jerome. It's not funny, it was never funny.\" Trevor called out.\n\n\"You sound *just like* Elaine. It was always *not funny* this and *big salad* that. You know, I am *really* starting to hate Elain.\"\n\n\"Why?\"\n\n\"I dunno. Hey, what's the deal with--\"\n\nWith a quick shot, Jerry was left on his knees, bleeding out. Just before passing to the other side, he uttered a few words. \"What's the deal with blood? We need this red fluid that carries *air* to stay alive. Now, spinal cord fluid, *that's* a real fluid. I just don't understand blood.\"\n\nTrevor scratched his head a bit, confused. He continued forward, not deterred by Jerry's *thought-provoking* rant. Suddenly, he heard a voice whispering in his ear.\n\n\"I hope you get AIDS.\"\n\nTwo punches and an elbow later, Louis CK lie on the ground with a broken nose. Trevor turned and readied his magnum, while stomping Louis in the stomach.\n\n\"Really...urgh? An AIDS... urgh... joke? Not cool.... urgh... man, not... urgh... cool.\"\n\n\"It's... oof... better than... oof... Amy Schumer.\"\n\nTrevor stopped stomping for a moment.\n\n\"Really, Louis? That's your standard? My grandmother could out-joke Amy Schumer, and she's 90.\"\n\n\"You're probably right.\" Louis said, choking on his own blood.\n\n\"So... err... any last words?\"\n\n\"Uh, no. No.\"\n\nThe Heckler takes another soul. \n\nTrevor crept into his living room, careful not to alert anyone. He took cover behind his couch, a beautiful silken couch. Trevor enjoyed the finer things in life. Suddenly, a really loud voice began shouting.\n\n\"Y'all comedian killers is CRAAAAAZY. Y'all see a brotha' walking through yo house and you see RED. It's like BANG BANG DIE YOU COMEDIAN!\"\n\n\"C'mon Hart, you can do better than that. Maybe use less onomantopeias and shouting?\" Trevor said, looking for his Kevin Hart bullet, which must have fallen out of the gun.\n\n\"I'm top rated, broooo. I don't NEED to change my routine.\"\n\nTrevor located his bullet underneath the couch. He loaded it in and took aim, unbeknownst to Kev Hart.\n\n\"Hey, Hart...\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"BANG BANG DIE YOU COMEDIAN!\"\n\nHe unloaded the silver slug with a smile on his face. It was too easy. Besides, everyone knows the best way to kill a comedian is with his own jokes. The power of PLAGIARISM. I invented that word, by the way. I also invented the word CONDESCENDING. That's where you talk down to people.\n\nThe tone of a *raaaaadical* dude came from behind Trevor's armchair.\n\n\"Hey, you know that feeling when you're so fucking pumped to kill someone, but then they have a gun? It's like, AHHH FUCK, I WANTED TO SHOOT YOU AHHHH! COME HERE SO I CAN KILL YOU!!!!\"\n\nWithout a second thought or funny remark, Trevor let out a burst from The Heckler. He was in no mood for conversation, let alone one with Dane Cook.\n\nBut before he knew what was happening, the gun was plucked from his hands. Behind him stood by far *the worst* comedian in history. He brandished a switchblade and tight leather jacket, and a rough latino accent.\n\n\"YOU THINK YOU CAN JUST KILL THE WETBACK? NO. THE BEANER DESERVES A CHANCE, HOMBRE!\"\n\nHe stabbed Trevor in the back, near the spinal cord. Suddenly, Jerry Seinfeld's dying rant was starting to make sense.\n\n\"WHAT DO YOU GOTTA SAY TO THAT, CRACKA? CRACKKKKKAAAAAAA?\"\n\n\"You... urgh... steal jokes.\"\n\nWith a squeal and a screech, Carlos melted, until he was but a puddle of his former self. For some reason, he was singing Rancheras, as if to push the stereotype forward.\n\nTrevor sat in solitude, pressed up against his nice couch. Though he was bleeding, he payed no attention to his wounds. Only the fact that it was over. But... echoing through the house, one thing could be heard...\n\n\"What's the deal with airline food?\"\n\n*****\nThe other guy's story was a lot better. Nevertheless, if you liked mine, check out /r/Picklestasteg00d.",
"The full moon shone over the placid waters of Lake MacGuffin. The air was still and quiet, save for the gentle drone of cicadas. Two young women crept down to the water's edge.\n\n\"This is pretty creepy.\"\n\n\"Yeah, but that's the fun of it, Stacee!\" The brunette unrolled a beach towel and flopped down onto it, kicking off her flip flops.\n\nHer blonde friend remained standing, arms crossed, staring at the woods. \"What if we're not alone out here, Kaylee?\"\n\nKaylee gave her friend a disapproving glare. \"Who else could be out here? We're days away from civilization. That's the entire reason for this trip! To have some alone BFF time before we leave for college.\" Kaylee stood up and bit her lip. \"And since we're alone...I'm going swimming!\" She removed her sweater and started to untie her bikini top.\n\n\"You can't be serious. That water's probably full of aligators and leetches.\"\n\nKaylee giggled, letting her bikini fall to the ground. \"There's only one way to find out!\" She skipped into the water. Stacee stayed on the shore, arms still crossed over her bulky sweatshirt.\n\nSuddenly there was a rustling of bushes in the darkness. Stacee turned and called out a nervous \"Hello?\"\n\nKaylee laughed from the lake. \"Stacee, don't be a bitch! Stop trying to scare me!\"\n\n\"I'm being serious! Something's out there!\"\n\nThey listened as the rustling grew louder. Then there was silence.\n\n\n\n\"What's the deal with airline food?\"\n\nThe girls shrieked. But their fear was cut short when two guys emerged laughing from the trees. Stacee recognized them as Chad and Chazz, the captains of their highschool football team.\n\nStacee shot them an acid look. \"Assholes,\" she muttered. But she could hear Kaylee cackling behind her.\n\nChazz came up and gave Stacee a great bearhug. \"Aww, we were only having a bit of fun. Besides, you deserve it for not inviting us on your little field trip.\"\n\n\"This was supposed to be girls only,\" mumbled Stacee.\n\nKaylee, still treading water, disagreed. \"They can stay. This *is* girls only. And these douchebags don't have anything in their pants, so they qualify!\"\n\nChad stepped to the water's edge and smirked. \"You'll find out tonight what I've got in my pants. But first, you're going to show me what you've got!\" He held up Kaylee's bikini top.\n\nKaylee gasped. \"You dick!\" \n\nChad started furiously undressing and jumped into the lake. Kaylee started to swim away laughing. Even Stacee had to giggle. \n\nChazz looked at her. \"C'mon. Let's go for a swim.\" Stacee acquiesced.\n\nAs the four teenagers frolicked in the cool waters, a pair of beady eyes watched from afar. The voyeur licked his lips and stroked his red beard. His pale skin would shine like a beacon in the moonlight, but he wouldn't show himself. Not yet.\n\n\"Of course it's a bad thing to kill kids. The worst thing in the world. Of course it is.\" he whispered to himself.\n\n\"But maybe...\"\n\n**TO BE CONTINUED**"
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[WP] Urban explorers encounter something unexpected when investigating an abandoned subway tunnel.
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"A bright flash lit up the tunnel. I paused, momentarily blinded.\n\n\n\"Can you warn me when you want to take a pic?\"\n\n\n\"Sorry, Lumley,\" Leann said, surely rolling her eyes in the dark.\n\n\nWe picked our way along the tunnel, until finally reaching the end.\n\n\n\"Well, this would appear to be all of it. Why did you pick this place anyway?\" I asked.\n\n\n\"Well, I haven't been entirely honest with you...\" Leann trailed off.\n\n\nI waited, but apparently she was going for the dramatic pause.\n\n\n\"So, a long time ago, before it went out of style, Milwaukee was *supposedly* planning to build a subway system.\"\n\n\n\"Really? A subway? In Milwaukee?\"\n\n\n\"Really. Yeah. I found an old building permit that shows this utility tunnel was used to run power to a subway tunnel that was allegedly built in the 1940’s. But, like I said, subway projects kinda went out of style because of how expensive they were.”\n\n\n“So you wanted to come find the lost Milwaukee subway, huh?”\n\n\n\"I wonder where this door leads?\"\n\n\n“What door?” I asked.\n\n\nLeann had turned on her flashlight and was examining crack in the wall. I turned on my own flashlight and followed the crack along the wall. It was a perfectly straight line that ran in the shape of a door along the cold concrete at the end of the tunnel.\n\n\n“How do we open it if there’s no handle?” I asked, leaning on the door, but it wouldn’t budge.\n\n\n“Lumley, come help me with this.”\n\n\nI turned to see Leann up against the tunnel wall, prying a brick out of the out of the masonry.\n\n\n“According to the plans, there was a lever that opened the door, but they put up this brick wall to hide it.”\n\n\nI came over and helped her pull a few more bricks out of the wall, revealing a large old-timey steampunk looking lever.\n\n\n“I think, if we pull this down, it should unlock the door, and we can go in.”\n\n\nI pulled on a pair of heavy leather gloves and began to pull on the lever. Leann took a picture as I was pulling. It moved ever so slightly, but the gears at the pivot didn’t want to budge. Leann pulled on her own gloves and joined at the lever. We felt the lever give more with each pull until finally, a great *CLACK* rung out from the door as the lever swung downward.\n\n\nLeann walked over to the door and gave it a push, it creaked inward with a faux-ominous groan.\n\n\nWe stepped out of the nondescript utility tunnel and into the pages of Milwaukee’s forgotten history.\n\n\nWe were standing in what looked to be a small subway station, and sure enough, there was a train. But it didn’t look anything like what I was expecting, Leann either, for she remarked,\n\n\n“Looks kinda small for a subway. Even a 1940’s Milwaukee subway.”\n\n\n“You some kind of expert on 1940’s Milwaukee subways?” I replied, smart assily.\n\n\n“Actually yes, considering the fact that we’re the first two people to set foot in the Milwaukee subway system in the past half-century, I suppose that *does* make us experts. But no, From the pictures I’ve seen of the subways of New York, you know, back when it was private families building their own train systems, they were way bigger.”\n\n\n“Hmm, I suppose you’re right.”\n\n\n“This? This looks a bit like a glorified roller coaster. And is that-” She pointed to the last ‘car’ “-a flatbed car?”\n\n\nWe walked over to it and Leanne began snapping pictures.\n\n\n“It looks to me like this flatbed car was intended to haul a bit of cargo.”\n\n\n“Weird!” Leann exclaimed, delightedly.\n\n\nShe finished photographing the train and the station and then suggested we explore the subway tunnel.\n\n\n“Isn’t this bizarre?” She asked as we made our way down the tunnel.\n\n\n“Yeah, I don’t get it. Why would they have built a subway here in the 40’s? Milwaukee has a great history, and had plenty of people, but even today, traffic isn’t so bad you’d need a subway.”\n\n\nWe walked on for about another half hour. The ground sloped downward in places, and at times, we could see that the tunnel had been bored straight through the limestone bedrock.\n\n\n“Where do you think we are, anyway?” Leann asked.\n\n\n“What, didn’t the plans say where the tunnel went?”\n\n\n“No, in fact, the plans were pretty vague. The only location info I could find is the entrance of the utility tunnel that lead to the station and the lever that you’d use to get in. Other than that, it just said part of a line had been built, but… not completed....”\n\n\n“Spooky.”\n\n\n“So really, you’ve got the best sense of direction. Where are we?”\n\n\n“Well, the utility tunnel was right behind the Pfister Hotel, we followed that south for… oh, maybe a half mile, which would put us under St. Paul Street and that’s where we found that station. From there, we walked a mile, east… I think, based on how we turned and now we’re-” I stopped in my tracks.\n\n\n“Leann! We’re under the Amtrak Station right now! The current one, I mean. Milwaukee Intermodal.”\n\n\nShe was quiet for a moment, “Yeah, that would put us right about that area. I wonder if it’s a coincidence that this runs right beneath it.”\n\n\n\"Well, keep your eyes open for a door along the wall, that might lead up to the station.\"\n\n\nBut we found no doors along the tunnel wall. In fact, the tunnel seemed to be getting deeper and deeper into the limestone bedrock until it leveled out and we could see our flashlight beams had found something ahead.\n\n\n“Looks like another station. That would put this tunnel about a mile or so long?”\n\n\n“So right now, we’re under… the Marquette Interchange, I think. Way deep down.”\n\n\nWe arrived at the station. It was empty except for a few benches. To the back of the station, the tunnel did not continue. We had apparently traversed the full one mile subway line from end to end. Leann took more pictures of the station, a bright flash popping each time.\n\n\n“I wonder where that goes.” Leanne indicated a heavy-looking door behind the benches.\n\n\n“Well, we’ve come this far.”\n\n\nWith nothing but our flashlights to light the way, we approached the door expecting another struggle to get it open, but it was unlocked. As we opened the door, expecting another utility tunnel, we stood awestruck at the threshold.\n\n\n“Whaaaaat is this place?!?!” A smile of astonishment hung on Leanne’s face.\n\n\nA small lobby stood before us. A check-in desk was flanked by two heavy machine gun embankments, both aimed at the door. Leann strode forward, camera flashing, but I stopped short when I noticed what she had stepped on. Her footprints disturbed the dusty floor and something blue and gold peeked through.\n\n\n“Put your dust mask on, honey.” A told her as I pulled mine from my backpack.\n\n\nI began to wipe the dust off the floor until finally.\n\n\n“Is that… the FBI seal?”\n\n\nSure enough, the letters spelled out ‘Department of Justice Federal Bureau of Investigation.’ Leann photographed it.\n\n\n“Looks like we figured out why this subway system never opened. It never *was* a subway. This is a secret FBI facility. You said this was built in the 1940’s?”\n\n\n“1949 is what it said on the plans.”\n\n\n“Damn, I think we found a secret cold-war bunker!”\n\n\n“I don’t think it was just a bunker.” She pointed to one of the doors behind the machine gun embankments.\n\n\n‘Detention Facility’ read the sign.\n\n***Story continues below***",
"“How did you even find this place John?” Ruby asked as the small group of urban explorer’s trudge through the ruined and pitch-black subway tunnel. Their bright LED flash lights the only source of light for over half an hour now. “It’s not on any of the maps we usually use when we go through these old tunnels. We had to smash a wall to even get in here, which also raises the question of where you knew where to look for that either.”\n\nJohn sighed. Questions, so many damn questions. Bill, Jackson and Mandy had been so excited to go somewhere that apparently has been explored in over seventy years. Ever since the end of the second world war. Ruby though, as she always is, was sceptical of the validity of the claim. Until he smashed though the small bricked wall that led to the access tunnel that led them here she had thought there was no way it could exist. Well she was obviously wrong, and now she wanted to know why, she was never wrong when it came to city records.\n\n\"During the bombing of Britain, the civilians hid in the London underground during the air raids. There simply was not enough room,\" explained John, \"so the government decided to build extra tunnels to help protect the citizens as well as plan for an eventual expansion of the railway network.” \n\nThey were getting close now to the station, the rails long since ripped up and reused for other projects, the only thing left of their presence is the tell-tale drill holes.\n\n“But when the war ended, they didn’t have enough money left over from rebuilding London to expand the underground, so the project was shelved and the old tunnels where caved in. This one, for some reason, was forgotten about.”\n\nIn the distance the light of the five torches began to reflect on something. “Looks like we’re here. Piped up Jackson, squinting into the distance, probably old tiles reflecting the light back onto us.” \n\n“Wait, but how can they do that? Wouldn’t they be covered in dust?” Asked Ruby. \n\n“Maybe, replied John, Shrugging his shoulders. Could be something else, some crushed glass or something.” \n\nAs they got closer to the station they were almost barreled over by the smell. Putrid, damp and sickly, it seemed to almost absorb them. \n\n“What in the hell? Gasped Bill, in between gasps and coughs. “It smell like open sewer!” \nThey had reached the station, or at least, what was left of it. The once white tiled walls now lay broken and covered in dust and grime, the pillars where half destroyed and the platform had collapsed into the tracks. \n\n“Looks like we found out why it was forgotten about.” Said Ruby as she feverishly waved her hand in front of her face, trying in vain to keep the smell away. “Looks like it got hit and caved itself in.” \n\nBut why wasn’t it dug up again?” Quizzed Mandy. \n\nProbably cause they were worried it might collapse completely and take half of London with it.” Replied John. I wonder if anyone survived?” \n\nThey began to crunch over the broken white tiles as they began to explore the area. Parts of the ceiling had collapsed and crushed what looked to be an old train carriage. \n\n“HOLY SHIT” Cried Jackson from the far side of the station. “FUCK, FUCK, FUCK.” The rest of the group came running to where the cries had come from and where immediately assaulted by an image straight out of a horror film. Nestled inside the destroyed carriage could only be described as an altar made from the bones and sinew. And on top of this altar, attached to the ceiling was the bisected and disembowel corpse of a naked middle aged woman. Her face frozen in absolute terror and pain.\n\n “What the fuck is this shit? John, How the fuck did you find this place again?” Demanded Ruby as Mandy started to throw up in the background.” \n\n\"Uh guys. \"Bill said weakly from behind them, his torch pointed to the ground. \"I don't think those are tiles we've been walking on.\" His torched now pointed directly downwards it can be seen that the supposed tiles, where actually hundreds of bone fragments torn apart and scattered all over the railway floor.\n\nPart 2 coming later I guess if people are interested.\n\n"
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[WP] Write a story about loneliness.
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"No matter who you are, it seems, this particular thing happens to be some type of vast expanse. I've always liked space, in many senses, but a desolate void where the only specks of light I can see are lightyears away isn't the kind I enjoy. Some days it just feels like aimless drifting further away from those specks, other times it feels as though I'm rocketing towards them at a million miles per hour.\n\nIt's quite bizarre, really. It surrounds you at all times, threatening to suffocate you, yet so many people just... deal with it. They drift, forever outwards, until they eventually hit a black hole, sun, or planet. Do they, too, feel like they just drift, or do they think they're going to eventually reach /their/ star? Optimistically, I'd like to say the latter, but it's rude to speak for others.\n\nI'd like to believe that I will one day find myself simply drifting through a nebula, taking in the wondrous sights and colors, and screw it if it damages the equipment letting me breathe out here. Should I die, I'd like to die happy, around something great and beautiful. I've never been a fan of dark expanses of nothing, anyways. Some color, something new, is something to be cherished forever. Take pictures, if you wish. It'll make the drifting a happier time.",
"He's really lonely right now. All in all, he thinks it's a stupid emotion. Just a few hours ago, he was sitting in the Four Seasons, watching a wonderful performance of the Nutcracker. Surrounded by his friends. His sister, father, too. It was just great. But now, he's just on his bed. It's dark. Snow is falling outside, the first one to stay on the ground this winter. He's just alone now. As silent as the outside. \n\nSomeone is missing. Even though he's the one who forced him to leave. \n\nHe feels like crying.\n\nBut he doesn't have the tears.\n\n-------\n\nHe's really lonely right now. All in all, he still thinks it's a stupid emotion. He's circling the ice, surrounded by his teammates. They have just won their championship. It feels fucking great. But looking out into the stands, he's looking for someone he knows isn't there. He sees his beaming friends. He sees his beaming family. His teammates are rushing up and picking him up and hugging him. They're whooping and shouting and hollering. He scored the winning goal. He's some hot shit. The small crowd is a sea of rich yellow and navy, their colours, so so happy. The cute boy he's known since second grade is there, right along the boards, smiling at him. The one that plays baseball. (\"Yeah mom, he's there but I *don't* have a crush on him\" \"Riiiiight.\") But the other one's gone, and he can't feel like it's wrong. He can't feel like it's right either. They'd made plans. \n\nHe feels like crying again.\n\nBut he still doesn't have the tears.\n\n-----------\n\nHe's really lonely right now. All in all, the stupidness of this emotion hasn't gone away. He's sitting in the TTC, staring at the grey buildings going by. It's been raining all day, and he's pretty soaked. He forgot his jacket at home. He has his headphones on over his ears, drowning out the sounds of the bus. Today is not a good day in the slightest. He fucked up a presentation and he nearly cried in front of his project group. He runs his fingers through his short hair. Not a good day. He breathes in. He breathes out. He feels like he's facing an army all alone, unarmed. He wonders if he made the right decision those many months ago. Forcing him away. At the time, it seemed right. It was what he had wanted. Desperately. Now? He doesn't know now. \n\nHe feels like crying again.\n\nBut the tears are still absent.\n\n--------------------------\n\nBut he gets over it, eventually. When he skates out onto the ice, watching the ocean of red in the stands, cheering for him, he doesn't feel lonely. He sees his boyfriend, the baseball player, cheering on in the stands. His older sister, even though she never liked hockey. His mom, always worried about him getting hurt, but so ecstatic nonetheless. His dad, endlessly proud. His son, the world class hockey player. He sees his friends. The women, the men he cares so much about. The ones that have fought on his side, and he on theirs. They're all there. And then he sees a familiar face, but he skates on. \n\n---------------\n\nHe scores three goals that game. \n\n-----------------\n\nThey win their championship again. He gets kissed like he's never been kissed before that night. He gets so many hugs and congratulations. He doesn't feel lonely at all. He feels so surrounded and knit together. He feels composed. \n\n-----------------------\n\nBut after that game, with the hat trick and the familiar face, he encounters him. He's in his suit, his hair neatly parted. He's just about ready to go, when he's stopped in the hallway. \n\n\"Hey,\" Familiar Face says.\n\n\"Hey.\"\n\n\"I was wondering if you want to go grab a cup of coffee? Maybe some dinner?\" \n\n\"I have to go. Everyone's waiting for me. I mean, we can talk for like five minutes, but I can't grab anything,\" and curtly he adds, \"sorry.\" \n\n\"O-oh. Alright.\"\n\n\"Yep.\"\n\n\"So, you went professional.\"\n\n\"Yep. That championship game back in high school really started it all for me. It was really great to see everybody come out today, haven't seen some of them in years, honestly,\" and there's a pause, \"I didn't expect you.\"\n\nHe avoids that last bit. \"Yeah, all of the group from high school. Fuck, even Ethan. I remember how crazy you were about him. Great to see you guys still keep in touch.\"\n\nFamiliar Face hadn't shown himself since graduation. He hadn't talked to him. He hadn't talked to their group. He'd disappeared. After the *Argument*. Our main character in question had been the only one not to forgive him. He didn't dole out second chances. And anyway, Familiar Face had never noticed the chances he gave him before that. \n\n\"I'm dating him now actually. Why *are* you here? None of us have seen you in years.\"\n\n\"D-dating? Wow. That's something. I just thought I'd seen you again. I dunno. Why do I need a reason?\"\n\n\"Our friendship ended ugly, man. Don't you remember? You got so pissed at me 'cause your girlfriend- don't fuckin' interrupt, she was your girlfriend - told Aidan about your guys' thing,\" he laughs a bit. It's a funny memory now, to be quite honest. \"Then I decided not to deal with your shit. I was kinda assholey, but I guess we were all assholes back then. My mom's always said I'm a stubborn bastard.\"\n\n\"Yeah.\"\n\n\"How's your school been? I saw you hangin' out with Spence and those guys towards 12th grade. Hell, you're in university now, aren'tcha. Lemme guess, engineering? You've always struck me as that type of guy.\"\n\n\"Fine.\"\n\n\"Hey, why are you getting pissed at me? I'm willing to put shit behind us now.\"\n\n\"Well, I'm not. You fucking abandoned me. You left, and then fucking Elsa did and Alexa was never even my fucking friend in the first place. She was yours. I texted you so many times saying how much I regretted yelling at you over that shit, and you just told me to stop texting you. What the fuck, man. I didn't even hang out with Spencer and everyone all that much. I was *alone*, because *you* left. You just up and left. I said fucking sorry. Then, you took everyone because you're a fucking tornado. You promised we'd still be hanging out, that I'd get to go to every one of your hockey games, we'd have this big meet up of everyone who's ever been in our group, and y-you'd make out with fucking Sidney Crosby and it-it'd be at the Keg and fucking hell, you LIED.\"\n\n\"I didn't lie. Plans just goddamn changed. I was done with feeling like the bad guy. We argued so fucking much. It always felt like my fault. I did it for me. For my own fucking sanity. We were over. Fuck, I don't want to repeat myself. You could've made a bunch of other friends, if you'd just goddamn tried. Or tried not to get so pissed off at me over something I couldn't control. I don't just forgive people for shit like that. Alright? Now I have to go, my boyfriend's just over there.\"\n\nAnd indeed, Ethan is. The boy, he's still only twenty, hurries over, pulls his arms around the taller boy and kisses him. Passionately, indeed. He feels badass. He just killed one of his demons. Ethan kisses back, because he realizes he loves this man.\n\nFamiliar Face goes home a lot less familiar, and a lot more lonely.\n\n-----------------------\n\nSo I've gone through some shit this past few weeks, and writing this really helped me make sense of it all. Writing is the only true therapy, after all. Thanks for the prompt, OP!\n",
"Find yourself looking at bright blue winter sky with the light thin clouds in the stratosphere. They're in narrow irregular bands, starting with a sharp piercing point like the finely forged blade of a dagger. These clouds are hypnotic and broaden out too look like a sheet of cotton balls, stretched out so thin they're transparent.\n\n The sun is bright and low in the winter sky just south of the leading point of the cloud band. The breeze is so light that the warmth of the air being exhaled is harmlessly floating up and to the left of the lips and ceasing to exist. \n\nAs the eyes lower there is nothing to block the horizon as it melts into the atmosphere, across the flat prairie an undisturbed blanket, glittering of trillions of diamonds the blinding snow flows down into the broad shallow valley at the very edge of the toes. Tuff's of wild dark yellow grass start to break through the perfectly flat layer of snow and start to congregate closer together, like a crowd gathering, pushing their way into the water of the frozen creek below. \n\nNo sound, only soft breathing and focusing the heart beat can be heard. The brain shuts up, stund by the beauty and awe of the vision the eyes are sending. \n\nNo one else within 10 miles. No one else to witness the moment. No one else to share the memory. No one else \n",
"Beyond the edge, it was quiet. Sound was muted. Couldn't say why. Wished to know why so many times. Wished I could stop the quietness. Making noise was so hard.\n\nPassed the edge as all do, on foot. Gods, the others. I was fortunate, my blood curse prevented the sickness in the air from devouring me. The very reason I passed the edge prolonged the suffering beyond it, I thought. The others were not...\n\nNot fortunate. I passed their bones not long after entering, after a short walk through a dark black tunnel. A hole was chipped into the stone floor of a cave connected to the path through the Wall of The End. Ashes in the hole - fire pit, I was sure. They were not prepared to pass the edge, they were not dressed warmly. \n\nThey did not know about the illness in the air, I think. They sat to rest, feeling oddly weary so soon, and passed on soft and sweet.\n\nTheir clothing would serve as a bed. One of their skulls became my lone companion. I knew I would feel it eventually... gnawing. Chewing. Snarling. \n\nAlone, alone. I cried for a time, and could not identify why.\n\nAfter the strange cave of black stone, I found my way into what I decided to call the Glass Falls. There was a strange thing in that place. It appeared to be a valley, rising so far upwards that even when I looked up, I saw nothing but a sliver of white serving as the sky. The strange thing was the...\n\nLiquid...\n\nThat flowed down the walls. It flowed like something thicker than water, a syrup or something else viscous. This fluid was, however, not perfectly clear. No, it was faintly blue in some places, faintly violet in others, faintly teal in others. This fluid flooded across the only path through the Glass Falls. If you do not walk on this path, you would have to climb at least two hundred and fifty feet down a sheer cliff that was coated in the liquid.\n\nI progressed only when I discovered I could walk directly on the fluid. That disturbed me, because it did appear to be fluid, it did appear to move - but to touch it, it was as cold and solid as glass, as if the colors are a liquid moving beneath an ultra thin but ultra durable covering. Bizarre. The covering even shifted and rose and fell minutely with the flows of the liquid beneath - if there even was a coating.\n\nI was beyond the edge, past the point where the laws of reality had the strongest grasp. \n\nMy companion made no comment. Skulls are not good for conversation. I wished I had not come. I wished I had fought and forced them to execute me. I was afraid.\n\nAt the far side of the Glass Falls, I found another tunnel carved into the stone. I did not know where this would go, but there was nowhere to go but forward. I could not return back. As soon as I stepped into the first tunnel leading to the Final Rest, they sealed the way behind. They, the guardians, those who asked me not to fight as I was forced beyond the edge. The Final Rest, the place with the chipped fire pit that lead to the Glass Falls.\n\nThe tunnel was more black stone, but this was flecked with a strange violet metal I did not recognize that had formed bizarre crystalline formations where it was exposed to air - strange twisting shapes, sharp and delicate. I worried they would be a danger until I touched one and it simply turned to glittering dust. I put on my particulate mask and walked forward with little care. If I were to be killed, it would matter not.\n\nI was alone. I'd have begged the gods for mercy but their clawing fingers could not reach me in that place.\n\nI slept that night in that tunnel, the Path of Dust that seemed to go on forever. The clothes taken from the skeletons of the deceased were clean. I had not thought about that before. Had their bodies rotted to dust and left only bones behind, the clothes ought to have been soiled by the foul fluids of a corpse. \n\nBut they were clean.\n\nDid this have meaning? Were they not left to rot but instead devoured somehow? \n\nDid not matter. I laid their clothing out and slept upon it. I used my own bag as a pillow. My companion had no name. I was sure I would name it later, when the loneliness became madness, and the madness became a craving for anything I could imagine was a friend.\n\nFor four days I walked the Path of Dust. The darkness within deepened more and more, until there was nothing to see but a faint glow from the violet metal on the walls - a glow I had not noticed before. Luckily for me, I was given food and water... plenty of both. That was my gift for not fighting the Guardians. Food. Water. Particulate mask. Goggles. Gloves. Coat. Armor vest. Rifle. Rifle rounds. Knife. Boots. \n\nFour days? Four days, how did I know that?\n\nThat was before my watch started to lie to me, I remember now. \n\nAt the end of the forth day, just before I would have stopped to rest, I saw a sliver of light ahead. Enervated and hopeful, I hurried on. My skull companion clacked as we moved, hitting against something metal. I had looped cord through his eye sockets and hung him from my armor vest. Must have been my belt I was hitting. \n\nWhen I reached the light, I could see I that the metallic violet dust was clinging to my clothes. It hadn't gotten on my skin, at least. I'd had the sense to keep my sleeves tucked into my gloves, my shirt into my pants, my pants into my boots, and my head wrap into the top of my shirt.\n\nMercies, small mercies. \n\nI stepped into the light and a breeze hit me. It was a cool breeze, a welcome thing after the still air of the tunnel - so still it was clear to me that something prevented the breeze from entering the tunnel. \n\nI was left then to stare, stare down a slope and out onto an expanse of black sand. The light came from above. It was as if the sky was made of liquid, far above... some opalescent white liquid gently undulating. Strewn randomly across the Desert were strange things I knew I had to investigate.\n\nThe slope was shallow. I could walk down it easily. The stone was no longer stone beneath my feet. It gave slightly with every step, as if I was walking on cloth stretched tightly over a kind of organic frame. It was like walking on cold flesh that merely appeared like stone.\n\nI cried as I walked. I still did not know why. It had been so long since I had heard a voice, since I had heard my footsteps, heard my own breathing, heard anything. The harsh wind blew the dust off me as if it was no longer able to cling once I was out of the Path of Dust. As soon as I was clean, I took off the particulate mask, the head wrap, the goggles. My hair was long, longer than it should have been. Was it lighter than it had been? It seemed lighter than it had been.\n\nThe first strange object was a two day hike. It was a huge stone pillar, square in shape, that stood at an angle in the black sand. The closer I got, the more I could see that it was not made of stone, nor made of wood, nor any other material I would have expected. It appeared to be made entirely out of sugar. Sugar. I mean unprocessed sugar, dark in color, but still sugar. \n\nI fashioned a bag out of a shirt from the dead and collected a pound or two of the sugar using my knife, and moved on. \n\nThe next structure was four days off of that. It was a sphere, floating a foot above the sand. Ripples in the sand beneath it suggested it emitted some kind of force downward to keep itself aloft.\n\nIt rippled softly, the sphere. I could see a cloudy shape deep inside of it, obscured by the green fluid within. Nervously, I touched it and found that it felt like the 'water' of the Glass Falls - a constantly rippling but nonetheless rigid surface. This one was not as smooth as glass, however. It felt more like plastic, my fingers dragging a little as they passed over the surface.\n\nA terrible instinct drove me to pierce the sphere's membrane with my knife, and then to draw the blade down and form a slit. Green fluid flooded out. I felt a burst of hope that there would be some fetal being inside - but there was not. When all the fluid was gone, and I cut away the plastic, I found only a bizarre machine of senseless parts and dead end connections, a mechanical abomination that was aborted by my actions.\n\nSick and horrified, I fled, sleeping beneath an obelisk made of water that night - water that held its shape as if in a glass prison, but had no coating, meaning I could refill my water stock there.\n\nThe next day, I closed my eyes and walked. The sand was so even and so resistant to my footfalls that I could move like that for hours, opening my eyes now and then to ensure I would not walk into more horrors. It felt like an awful blasphemy to relieve myself on that sand, as if I was defacing something left untouched since forever got itself started. \n\nI broke down into tears randomly, that day. My skull companion was whispering to me. I felt I was losing my mind, at that point. \n\nYou're dead, I told him. Be quiet.\n\nHe stopped whispering.\n\nFor days after that, I felt numb, until I found another green sphere. There was a pyramid of dark brown fluid nearby. It smelled of shit, so I decided to cut the sphere open. Another mechanical thing fell to the ground, useless and obviously unfinished.\n\nI'd hoped... I'd hoped it would be finished. I'd hoped it would be something that could kill me or something that could come with me. The skull was whispering again. I remembered voices, but speaking made no sounds. The skull could NOT have been whispering, for nothing could make much sound in that place. Whispers would not make it through the silence.\n\n(I feel like I could go on forever with this, but unfortunately, I have other things I have to do. Sorry to tease and then drop it. I'm bad at doing short things.)",
"He stared through the frosted window, relentlessly, as if his probing gaze could somehow defrost the 10 degree chill that filled both him and the pane before him. The mug in his hand felt like a desperate lifeline that allowed him to cling feebly to reality, as if perhaps he really was still alive. The caffeine kept him aware enough to believe it; the whiskey softened the blow enough for him to stand it.\n\n“How?” \n\nThe question was as omnipotent and as ubiquitous as it’s cousin, “why?”\nHow often did he stare into whiteness, only to have these questions torment the very gyri and sulci that allowed them to be? \n\nIt wasn’t clear to him when everything unraveled. Just that one day it did. Existentialism had never appealed to him; it seemed like the pathetic masturbation of the overeducated elite. People who had the time and space to question anything very deeply had seemed unnatural and largely self-serving in a manufactured sort of way. What was there to question? You simply lived in whatever capacity that meant—some multifactorial equation that ultimately resulted in an end result of eating, sleeping, drinking, and fucking if you were lucky enough. \n\nSome may have thought his unsophisticated and reductionist analysis of life as that of someone of lesser intellect, but that would have been a sore misjudgment. In fact, he was sharper than most. Though he had not historically been inclined to engage in mental gymnastics in attempt to make sense of a capricious and cruel world, his ability to discern and see through the intentions of others was unparalleled. His understanding of that which was around him came easily; he was never flummoxed by anything, he could see (mechanically) how things worked, and effortlessly noticed the patterns in the world around him. \nBut everything was different now. \n\nThe questions berated him; they beat him to the ground, and dragged him across his dirty floor. The floor he couldn’t be bothered to clean. The floor he stared at for hours, as if he might one day fall right through it. \n\nTime stopped passing, and yet it’s all there was left. Staring. Breathing. Nothingness. \n\nWhat was this? When did the equation stop working? Why was there no more solution?\n\nOn the rare occasion that he left his fortress of solitude, he could no longer make sense of what he saw. The smiling people, the rapid movement, the overarching sense of suggested purpose and belonging. He had never before needed—nor wanted—more than what he had within himself. An overnight guest past 7am seemed outright intrusive. But now he felt a deep emptiness he couldn’t understand—couldn’t make sense of. \n\nThe only accompaniment he had had in as long as he could remember was the threatening darkness that loomed in the corners of his reality. The more he stared and he more he sipped, the closer it crept. He could feel it. If he stood still enough, he was sure he could hear it. And on more than one occasion he could swear he felt it breathing on him. \n\nFinally, after drinking himself into an oblivion of bravery, he felt compelled to look the darkness in the eye, so that he could demand an answer to the questions that so cruelly haunted him. With his eyes closed he turned, slowly, prepared to face the truth. To understand.\n\nAs he opened his eyes he saw it. Stark and bare. True and real.\n\nNothing.\n\nAnd that’s all there ever was.\n",
"There I was in the middle of the woods, I had made it to my destination. The long drudging path to to this remote cabin had finally come to an end. As a building it was not much, just a few boards and some shingles. It would serve me well because all I wanted was to get away, and I could not be farther away from it all than I was right now. I knew that if I just reached this cabin I would find inner peace and eternal happiness, and I planned to stay here until I found it. \n\nI had just recently went through a traumatic breakup, which had caused my life to spin out of control in all different ways. My soul was in a dark distant place and I no longer felt like myself. I no longer took pleasure in what I used to and my mind was constantly focusing on the negative parts of life. It hit me one day that I just needed a change, that there was nothing wrong with me and it must be my circumstance in life.\n\nSo I quit my job, sold my house, packed my bags, and hit the road to go to a small cabin deep in the woods of the northwest woods. Now I had reached my destination, and I could not express how happy I was to do so after so many rain soaked days and nights of hiking to reach this place. I had arrived late in the day so I was quick to make a fire inside in order to heat the shelter for the night. I made a big meal and went to bed exhausted excited for the time ahead of me. \n\nA bird woke me the next morning with its beautiful song of \"Morning is here, time to get up be bum de dum.\" I stretched my limbs long and hard and rolled out of bed to begin making a big pot of tea. First I had to walk about a quarter mile to the nearest stream to gather the water and then stroll all of the way back to camp, or should I say home? I did not know what to call this place because I did not know how long I would be here. When I returned I began brewing the tea and took out one of the few novels I brought with \"Dharma bums\" by Jack Kerouac. I sipped my tea as I paged through the novel. The words felt like mine as I read them, there was some strange connection I felt to this man that was never alive when I was alive. Maybe he was reborn as me. Maybe he had became enlightened and now I was him. Who knows.\n\nI grew bored of the novel and decided to go outside to get some exercise by chopping wood. The grueling work would be good for me I figured since it would give my mind something to focus on. After maybe ten minutes the novelty of splitting wood also wore off on me and I quickly grew bored again. Then I decided to go on a walk. This was quite exhilarating, getting to learn the landscape that surrounded me. So much beauty to be found in nature. The woods filled my soul with joy. Then just as quickly as that joy had filled my conscious experience I was bored again. I decided to head back home and get a bite to eat. \n\nI still had a supply of dehydrated food with me that I had trekked in with and I heated that up on the small campfire I had prepared. It was a dinner of vegetable masala, one of my favorite dishes when I used to live in the city. Each bite felt like the best bite of food I had ever taken, I was overcome with interest in each single bite that I was taking. Just like every other activity though boardroom began to creep into my conscious again and I finished my meal in discontent.\n\nI was beginning to grow angry in my bedroom, I came out here so things could be different, so I could be happy! Why was I not happy, why did I keep getting bored with everything in life. Why was this happening to me? I was a good person wasn't I? Sure I wasn't a saint, but I was pretty good. I thought I deserved to be happy, but I just wasn't. That is when I heard a voice. I almost pissed my pants. Where did that come from? I looked around anxiously bracing for what I was about to see, but there was nothing there. That means it came from inside of me. What did it say? I could no longer hear the voice. \n\nThen just as suddenly as it left it returned. It said \"you are unhappy because your actions are not chosen wisely.\" I said \"yes they were, I always think logically about my choices in life.\" The voice said \"that is not the point your intention is not there, you must make choices from love because that is all there is in life. Once you realize this you will be happy.\" The voice left my consciousness to my baffled self. I felt like I had just taken some hallucinogens or something. I went to my bed to take a nap and regain my focus. I woke up happier than ever realizing that I do truly love everything and that I must return to society to cultivate and spread this love. ",
"Ive built a wall around myself, creating a rich private life only a handful have caught a glimpse of. The rare soul who ventures to pursue romantic involvement catches a glimpse of a dark, troubled man. One who struggles day in and day out to find happiness, a sickening thought that might never come true. For he he blames the cruel world on his misfortune, taken to finding enjoyment belittling others because he feels bad for himself. \n\nI awake in the wee hours of the day, the early morning rays peering through the cracked blinds, illuminating the perpetually bleak dorm room. For here, loneliness festers on the soul, a soul desperate to find something meaningful in his life. The days begin lying in bed, dreading to go outside his room, for people are cruel and confrontational. Locked away in my room has provided a comfort zone I dare leave. But I know my only way to happiness is to step outside that comfort zone, to be comfortable in the uncomfortable. On my days off, thoughts of worthlessness and suicide float around my mind. The only relief coming from blasting music, soul touching songs that bring tears to my eyes. Nibbling at me like a vicious cancer until I break down. Letting out the despair I keep in everyday, with no one to talk to, become lost in sickening thoughts. Thoughts of what normal is slip my grasp each day. \n\nBut if I can, I can find some happiness in this prison. I can turn to writing. Letting the horrors of my soul leak through my fingertips, crafting stories of horror and despair. And in the end, a sense of relief comes over me, that life might not be so bad. Letting these feelings pour out relieves some of the pressure that builds up. Then the thoughts come back. Who would even know if i'm gone if I killed myself. Hanging from the rafters in my dorm. It might take my parents weeks before they realize something is wrong. Death would crush them, I don't have the balls to take my life, I must find something that gives me meaning. Day by day, i'm starting to think I have found what really makes me happy. That which others hate and dread, I find peace and excitement in. But how could I tell my parents of my dream, a dream that is so unrealistic that I would never have a chance at making a living with it. So I lie to them, lies that I must keep up everyday while I feel the days of my life waste away. \n\nI cannot describe the feelings of anguish this causes me. I may seem like the charismatic, funny individual on the outside but really I am the sad, depressed clown. With no one to relate or talk to, I find myself slipping deeper into my own infinity land, one where I will never escape and be out of touch with reality. \n\nBut then it hits me, what if I can really do this. What if I put one hundred and fifty percent into my dream. What if I do make it big. The only thing that is stopping me is myself. My lack of self confidence is crippling. I try to learn more about how to make it better yet it always ends in failure. Trapping me in a lonely, self deprecating cycle. \n\nWhile loneliness is the bane of my existence, I feel it has molded me into who I am today. Some one who is independent, who can create diamonds from dirt. While I desperately try to change this, I continue to be terrified by change. If only I had someone to relate to on a deeper level I might be able to snap out of this mentality. Once again, I wait till tomorrow to start to change. One thing I always regret is that I didn't start yesterday. ",
"The people that have abandoned me. \nAre the same humans I hate. \nThis world is bleak and sucks ass. \nI cant wait to knock on heavens gate. \n\nI'm so much better than everyone else. \nThats why I'm lonely by the way. \nThe OP wants a story I write a poem. \nI don't give a shit about his dismay. \n\nI was born in the wrong generation. \nI'm telling you for real. \nSpeaking up for You. \nGets you my side of the deal. \n\nI might be lonely but I don't suffer loneliness. \nI'm also a pathological liar. \nI'm not even sure if this is a lie. \nI'm actually very lonely and my situation is dire. [5/365]\n\n"
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[WP] Write a story around the lyrics of a song, without alluding to its title.
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"I looked down at my watch as I neared the staircase\n\n\"Ah shit, gonna be late...\"\n\nI began running up the staircase and nearly tripped when I bumped into someone. I faced them to apologize when I hesitated, his face looked so familiar. \n\n\"Hey, it's been a while, hasn't it?\"\n\nI stared at him for a moment, then he began talking about old events that we were both a part of, of the past and of events in the future. I told him I had no memory of any of them, but he confirmed that we were old friends. \n\nI was taken back by this as a flood of memories returned to me, I looked him in the eye\n\n\"I thought you died... alone... god knows how long ago...\"\n\nHe smiled\n\n\"Oh no...\", he said chuckling, \"not me mate... I never lost control\"\n\nThe air grew cold and otherwordly\n\n\"You're face to face with the man who sold the world\"\n\nAnd old joke, I laughed and shook his hand and continued on with my day. I got back home as thoughts flooded my head, searching for a form and land in my head to anchor themselves. They showed me things, roaming for years upon years. I looked out the window, gazing across the city-scape as a million different apparitions all looked back at me in my mind.\n\nI muttered something\n\n\"all the millions here... we must have died alone... a long long time ago...\"\n\nI heard my door open, it was the guy from before. He spoke, as if continuing my thoughts.\n\n\"Who knows? Not me. None of us ever lost control though. Once again, you're face to face with the man who sold the world.\"\n\nI stared, smiling as I felt parts of my mind unifying, I turned and stared out the window and muttered\n\n\"Oh no... not me... I never lost control...\"\n\nI stared into the reflection and understood what it meant\n\n\"You're face to face with the man who sold the world\"\n\nMusic filled my ears, I closed my eyes for a moment and basked in the feeling of my mind being whole. Then... I fell back, landing with a thud\n\nand I never moved again...\n\n----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nSong: The man who sold the world by David Bowie/Midge Ure",
"There is a sickness that resides in the pit of my stomach. It empties me of my conscience as it bubbles up into my throat. Into my fists. Into my eyes. In all things I must restrain my deepest desires. In all things I suffer in solitude.\n\nThe darkness here is palatable and never ending. All that I have is time, and I can no longer hear it's passing. They bound me here, preordained my life without knowing it. They will never understand what it is to be this alone, where you can't even count yourself as proper company. Where hatred, like a mirage, rises in hidden waves from the floor of your cell. They will never take the time to get to know me; to understand people like me; to know that, given the choice, I wouldn't choose to be this way. Instead, they push us into cracks in the pavement as they trample and tread, ignoring the \"bad men\" hidden amongst the city's infrastructure. \n\nI wish things were different. I wish I was different. I wish that my passions didn't flow forth in certain ways and to certain people. \n\nIf there is any hope for mankind, let your hearts be softened by the tears that we sinners have cried. Help them and shelter them from the cold reality of their very natures. Show them compassion and give them tools to help themselves.\n\n...But, in the end, I know that nothing will change. There is no understanding for men like me. For there is no place for rehabilitation where retribution reigns.\n\n[(Scroll over for song title!)](/st \" Song: 'Behind Blue Eyes' by The Who\")",
"Here I am, a new university student in the capital city. A fresher. After screwing around at college it took me a little longer and a lot of sleeping pills and energy drinks to get here. I'm out of the village, I'm still young, I hope, and this is my new start.\n\nWell that's how I felt at the time. I was fortunate enough to be able to make some good friends at the start, before the free social vapour began to coagulate around me. Before I felt like my confidence got shattered and set in concrete and placed in context by the piling up of my actions. I also still had those relentless days of lethargy and nihilism. The next life was a lot like the old life.\n\nSo there are some days where I can do nothing except lie in bed and watch the air traffic make its way over the city, blocked intermittently by brown high rises and silver business suites. In the midst of these listless afternoons, I eat at the cafeteria and have nothing to say to the others. No experiences to recall except flight paths and duvet patterns. I listen, barely, and say goodbye.\n\nI've met a girl here. We had a brief moment of requited love then I screwed it up. We all live in the same accommodation block, and every time I turn off my lights I pray that she knocks. But I am there, alone, with the two of us in my thoughts. \n\nThe Christmas holidays have just ended and now we're all back here. It's dark, cold and wet. The city is coloured a festering electric orange from the clouds down to the streets. And I've answered a phone call from that girl. They're across the city and I'm on my way in a taxi. \n\nWith my forehead rested on the passenger window I cast my eyes up at those approaching skyscrapers. One day I want to be up there at a desk. But they're all empty. Whole sectors of the city lay dead.\n\nI wonder, will she be the same girl I see when I close my eyes? Who's out there?\n\n ",
"\"We have a lot of experience with being in love. You and I both know what is and isn't possible. I will put you before all else, something you wouldn't be able to get from any other girl. I'm going to tell you how I feel, to let you finally know. I will never let you go, hurt you, or leave you in the dust. I will never make you feel bad, leave you, or lie to you. I like you a lot, will you go to prom with me?\" she said to the guy sitting next to her in algebra class.\n\n\"I thought you'd never ask.\" he replied. They held hands and walked into the hallway, both excited for the dance."
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[WP] You Google yourself and discover a subreddit dedicated to you. It's entirely your exs, family, and friends and has been around for five years
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"\"WTF is this?\"\n\n\"Why is my ex-gf posting personal details about me? So what if I bite my nails...\"\n\n\"Uncle Mike is posting that I couldn't ride a bike until I was 16?!?!\"\n\n\"My grandma is giving Reddit gold to people who prank call me?\"\n\n\"That date last week was a setup by my sister's friend?!?\"\n\n\"Holy sh*t, my mother has been responding to my Tinder profile...\".\n\n*picks up the cellphone*\n\n\"Dad, do you know about this Reditt thing? You're the only one not on this.\"\n\n\"I love you to, wait, what... this is revenge for putting my brother in the hospital five years ago. We were rough housing, it wasn't intentional, yeah I know he was in the hospital for two weeks. F**K YOU!\"\n\n\n",
"Taking a break from reddit, I decided to check out facebook.\n\nI saw a past about how one guy Googled his own name and the search result showed articles and pictures of a Prince in some other country.\n\nI wondered what would happen if I Googled myself.\n\nOpening the Google search engine I quickly typed my name.\n\nI had a unique name, so I doubted there would be famous people popping out\n\nI was right, \n\nWithout looking at the link I clicked on the first website.\n\nI recognized the web layout,\n\nIt was Reddit.\n\nHoly shit, I thought to myself, \n\nWhat am I doing on /r/tsunderesharks"
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[WP] Write a story where something innocuous is illegal, but don't reveal what it is.
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"\"What's going on?\" A young man strolled to the counter of a bar, smiling widely.\n\nEveryone's heads cracked to his direction as they snapped to attention. A short man, blonde, bright eyed, put on a concerned expression very suddenly. \"Dude! Careful! You can't say things like that?\"\n\n\"...Wha-\" A tall man slapped a hand over the naive fool's mouth. Another left to lock the door.\n\n\"Calm yourself and think about it for a second?\"\n\n\"...alright.\" Silence for a couple moments. Then, his eyes gained perspective and his mouth dropped open. \"Oh, shit! Sorry, you're right. No one caught that, did they?\"\n\n\"You're fine, Trev. Just... be a bit more careful?\" The blonde spoke once more.\n\n\"Yeah, got it... Not sure Quinn, I just stumbled...\"\n\n\"All of us have our bad days. Sit and have a glass! Don't sat anything about this to anyone and you'll be fine.\"\n\nEveryone calmed...\n\nThe doorknob flies off the door, sound of a gunshot resonating. The door was kicked open, revealing two men with white helmets and rifles.\n\n\"Our scanners show that someone... *broke the law* in this area.\"\n\nQuinn stood. \"...I mean... you did the same just then.\"\n\n\"So we did.\"\n\nTrevor stood as well, perhaps a little foolishly. \"So... you have no right to persecute any of us! Just leave us alone, woul-\" He stopped. Put a hand over his face.\n\nThe helmeted head tilted. \"So the lawbreaker reveals himself... you're under arrest!\"",
"I stood in a dim, crimson-lit corner, on a street most people would avoid in the current situation. As the snow falls, I watch the world turn.\n\nMy body was entirely concealed by the sides of the two buildings around me, and the light did little to show my silhouette to those passing by, especially in this weather. To find me, you'd need to know what you're looking for.\n\nI run a shady, risky business. It gives a *hell* of a profit, though, and right now, that's all I need. Can't pay for things without money, and a carpenter without a hand can't get money in legal ways no more. \n\nThe worst part is the greeting. Trying to figure out if the person in front of you is a legit addict, a policeman, or both. They looked all the same, now, eyes without expression, black rings tainted by tears around them. The world became a sad place very quickly after the New Act.\n\nA person approaches. Walking fast, looking forward, barely seeming to see the light. *Trying to mask their intent. Clever.* I whistle the signal, *B C Em*. Or at least that's what I try to whistle. Doesn't matter - at this hour, in this place, I could moo like an ox and it'd be the signal. \n\nThe person turns towards me. And runs. In two seconds flat they cross the street and slam into the wall to my right, sliding in the alley. *A girl. Good. Easier to take down, if needed.*\n\n\"So,\" she says, \"do you have it?\"\n\n\"Yes, dear. I do. Come on in. There aren't no candles anymore, but we make do.\"\n\n\"Don't say that, Sir. I brought you a gift.\" She pulls out a little red silk scarf from her overall, and hands it to me. Inside, a small candle, half burnt, the black tip concealed by the fabric.\n\n*Thank you.*",
"We all need to be very careful. Ever since a new ordinance passed from City Government, people are extremely careful concerning words, written and spoken alike. No one is quite sure of reasons for said dictum, but citations are commonplace and our city's cops are always on alert for violations. A lot of people suggest revenue was Mr. Mayor's rationale, but all councilors went along for reasons I'll never understand.\n\nIt's now become a lot more difficult for people to talk about everyday occurrences. We can still talk about morning news programming and eating breakfast, but discussing taking our kids for daily educational instruction was certainly a lot easier just two weeks ago before code updates took effect. Don't even get me started about scrubbing one's enamel and good oral cleanliness - very difficult to discuss in any succinct manner. At least for one point of good news, our city budget looks to be balanced on back of people lacking solid vocabulary. Guess being smart and extremely careful does pay off in at least one respect, after all.\n\nI smile as I drop my kids off at Jack's and James's place of education and learning, before departing onward to a long day's work adjusting our forms and myriad papers no longer in compliance regarding city code."
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[WP] It is the future, and humanity has become completely dependent on machines, which do all of the work while humans live lives of luxury and leisure. It's been generations since a human has had to do any sort of work. But one day, all of the machines suddenly stop.
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"I'm a bot, *bleep*, *bloop*. Someone has linked to this thread from another place on reddit:\n\n- [/r/thewordsofxacktar] [\\[WP\\] It is the future, and humanity has become completely dependent on machines, which do all of the work while humans live lives of luxury and leisure. It's been generations since a human has had to do any sort of work. But one day, all of the machines suddenly stop.](https://np.reddit.com/r/TheWordsOfXacktar/comments/680ngl/wp_it_is_the_future_and_humanity_has_become/)\n\n[](#footer)*^(If you follow any of the above links, please respect the rules of reddit and don't vote in the other threads.) ^\\([Info](/r/TotesMessenger) ^/ ^[Contact](/message/compose?to=/r/TotesMessenger))*\n\n[](#bot)",
"\"It's ringing.\" Agent Nisanti reported.\n\n\"You're sure this is the only way?\" Her boss, Assistant Director Arthur Drubovich was a tall, angry, and fully-bearded man. He looked more like a russian bear-wrestler than Advanced Technology Administrator, but things are as they are.\n\n\"Look, the only we text we were able to recover on the device had this number on it. We don't know how it works, we don't know why it stopped, and no one here can find out who the manufacturer was or even if they still exist. All we have is this old-style phone number.\" Nisanti tried to control her temper, but fifteen days without working water, self-cleaning rooms, and food that didn't come from an emergency travel ration box was more hell than any person should endure. She was at her limit and the pacing bear-man of a boss breathing over her shoulder was pissing her off\n\n\"But it's ringing?\"\n\n\"Yes! I just said so!\"\n\n\"So maybe there is something at the other end...\"\n\nNisanti didn't dignify this with an answer, choosing instead to focus on the repeating ring on the phone line. They'd had to dig some real relic mobile devices out of storage, the ones that still used litium-ion batteries and Pre-AR interfaces. Nisanti was afraid the charge would run out before they even got a single call through, but needs must as they say.\n\n*click*\n\n\"Hello? We need help! The central-\"\n\n\"Thank you for calling Aperture Science Support and Lawsuit Reporting Line! Please be aware that we will be recording this call for future studies on subjects such as patience limitations, reactions to sub-aural programming, hyper-sonic brain surgery, extreme-\"\n\n\"I think it's a recording of some kind!\" Nisanti's heart was pounding in her ears as the computerized voice kept listing potential studies, \"We might have a chance!\"\n\n\"...and heart rate monitoring. Press 1 if you wish to inform the company of a new or pressing lawsuit, court hearing, or federal investigation. Press 2 if you if you're handheld portal device has created an infinite singularity that is slowly consuming all matter and energy around it. Press 3 if you wish to speak with a live-fire training course scheduling committee member. Press 4 if you have problems or concerns with our universal power cell. Press 5 if you are in terrible pain causes by-\"\n\nNisanti mashed the four key on the cell phone and waited in rapt attentiveness as the jaunty hold music played in her ear. \n\n\"Thank you for your purchase of the Aperture Science Universal Energy Cell and Curtain Rod Extension Motor. Please make sure your A.S.U.E.C.C.R.E.M. is in an upright and secure position before attempting maintenance. Any tilting of the device can, and will, cause severe reality distortion and loss of hair, memory, and life. If the device had ceased functioning, please try turning it on and off again by using the 1500 Megawatt Aperture Science Heavy Duty Super-Colliding Super Button.\"\n\n\"The button!\" Nisanti yelled so loud that Drubovich jumped, \"Press the big red button!\"\n\n\"The one you said was probably a self-destruct-\"\n\n\"JUST PRESS IT!\" Nisanti screamed. She needed a goddamn shower and now.\n\n\"It's like two feet wide, how am I supposed to-\"\n\n\"Just step on the damn thing!\"\n\n*click*\n\nSuddenly every light, every quieted motor, every ventilation duct and left-on entertainment center in the building came to life, showering both of them in the cacophony of electronic life.\n\n\"Thank god!\""
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[WP] Tell us a tale of The Magic Word - Please
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"People use to just say thank you when something nice was done for them. This method sufficed for society to work properly. Then one day a greedy young child had quite the evil idea, he could create a word that would obligate people to be nice to him. So he tried it out, first he went to his Grandma and said \"Grandma can I have a cookie?\" She of course said no because young boys do not need cookies with all of the energy they already posses. Then he said\" Grandma can I please have a cookie?\" The grandmother was stunned and said \"Yes certainly young one, here you go.\" From that point on the boy knew he could get whatever he wanted just by saying please because it obligated the other person to do something nice for the person asking."
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[WP] "I don't think I've ever met anybody so charmingly deluded."
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"“Well thank you. That may be the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.”\n“Oh, really?” I said. “Perhaps you misunderstood me; I didn’t mean it that way.”\n“Oh you! That’s what I like about you…”\n He never finished his sentence, or informed me as to what, specifically it was that he liked about me. (My sarcasm? The thinly veiled insult I had just hurled in his direction?) We had just met and I certainly did not like this fellow. \nHe wore a bow tie with a shirt that had short sleeves. And while this was certainly the least of his faults, it was the first thing I saw about him, and it made an impression. He shook my hand weakly and did not let it go. He informed me that Jesus loved me. When I told him that I was a Jew and had no interest in being loved by a dead man, he smiled back blankly and said, “Oh that’s not your fault.” He leaned in close and whispered, “Jesus was a Jay-oh- oh (he spelled it Joo) but that turned out ok in the end.”\n I pulled my hand from his loose grasp. I was in shock. How could people like this exist, and I not know it. Had I been deluding myself? Was this guy just fucking with me? I really did not know, and the analytical social scientist in me had to find out the truth. I began to ask him questions, and to my surprise he answered every one with complete open honesty.\nHis name was Travis and he had twelve brothers and sisters. His family lived just outside of town where his father was a part time marijuana farmer, moonshine distiller, and evangelical preacher. He preached about the end of the world, the rise of sin, and the need to legalize both weed and the shine. He was always high and drunk, and full of the Holy Spirit. He was also a racist and a homosexual. It was a full buffet of colliding and overlapping ideologies. He was a complex riddle, and had filled his children’s mind with a colorful mixture of truth and hate. He had made them instruments of his faith, the faith that he had invented himself and interwoven with the mystic power of a good moonshine drunk, and some fine sticky icky. He had so infected their minds with his own version of reality that it was amazing that Travis was wearing shoes and not his own grandpa.\n His mother was in complete denial about her husband’s sexuality due to their thirteen offspring. But every now and then she too could not deny that the man she had married was as gay as the day is long. More than twice she had caught him “red handed” so to speak with down on their luck hobos who had wandered into the wrong tent looking for a handout. He wore women’s underwear beneath his trousers, and when infused with the power of moonshine, reefer, and the wrath of God he would tear his clothes off and run into the night as naked as the day he was born. She would never drink the fruits of the still; instead she popped pills with frequency and abandon. She would be full of energy one moment, shaking with nervous anxiety; or else she would sleep, sometimes for days. She would wake occasionally to chase a hobo out of the tents, or to find more pills, or to have another child.\nI listened to Travis’ story with rapt attention. This was better than any biography of some powerful titan of industry, or president. This was the true story of the new America. He was a product of his upbringing, horrible as it was, it had molded him into this thing that he was now. He was the new caveman unfrozen and thriving in the world he found himself a part of. He was fed every lie, given every disadvantage, forced to see things no one should see, yet here he was; his bowtie meticulously tied. He thought he looked fancy. I thought it was an ironic trend. But his slightly yellowed shirt was also his best, or at least had the least amount of holes and stink. He was an anomaly in our presence, a real life yokel of the highest order yet he thought he was morally superior. He felt bad for US. ",
"Some people don't understand. I don't know why, but they just can't. They can't understand why someone will do such a thing, why they would go through the motions of futility. I don't understand either. It's just something in people like us, I guess. We can't help it.\n\n\nHer name was Alice and she was elusive. She was a temptation, a tease. She was my dream and in my dreams every night. I chased her. I followed her. Not like that, of course. I followed her after she asked. I chased her when she told me to run.\n\n\nAcross the country I went one night. It was a hot night and the boxes of the city was caging me with their concrete sweat. The stars above were anemic that late night and I was out there on the railing, looking out, not really looking.\n\n\nI was waiting for her. I was waiting for her call. It was a long night and I was sweating in my vest. My skin prickled. I talked to myself, but I can't remember the words. I was waiting. And then she called.\n\n\nShe told me to come. She told me to follow. She begged me to run. She told me she was out in the country and how it was so lonely there. She told me how bright the stars were. She told me I was the only thing missing. I remember those words. I remember her words.\n\n\nSo I left. I left it all behind. I know. I know what you think, but that's where we have to disagree. I couldn't help it. It was like a bad cold. How can you help that? How can you stop such feelings? I don't think you can. I couldn't.\n\n\nAnd so I drove and I drove fast. Across the country in my old car I drove and drove. My money kept dwindling and I lost a few pounds. All I could think about was Alice. All I could think about was being there, being together with the woman of my dreams. \n\n\nI drove as fast as I could. When I finally reached, it was a warm morning and the sun was hazy and blurred. I was sweating and broke and I came to the old gas station. I walked to the pumps and I was shaking. There stood Alice, faded jeans and angel face. There stood Alice with a smile on her lips. There stood Alice, the woman of my dreams. There stood Alice, hugging a man I had never seen before.\n\nMy heart broke, but I'll save you the gore. She laughed at me and he laughed at me.\n\n\n\"I told you he would come,\" is what she said. And then to me: \"I dont think I've ever met someone so charmingly deluded. To think you thought you ever had a chance!\"\n\n\nAnd maybe I cried then, but as heartbroken as I was, I felt some sort of comfort in some way. It's hard to explain, as I've said.\n\n\nIt's really hard, and all I can say is that it's the way I am. I never really had a choice. Maybe I was deluded, but what else could I do? People like me are born suckers maybe. And sometimes that's okay. I left then and there, turned my back to the laughter. I can't really say what happened then, but I know I drove and drove and begged my way back to the old city, back to my cage. Since then, nothing has really changed and I think my heart will be broken forever. That's just life, I guess. What can you do? I still think of Alice often."
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[WP] The apocalypse came. Much of civilization has broken down. Over half the world population has died. Armed bandits now roam the land. But somehow, your daily routine has changed very little.
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"The worlds pretty messed up right now, yeah. Ever since Tolan Drup became president the protests have been kinda.. Well, kinda bad really. Yeah... Yeah pretty bad, actually. Things got ugly, during one presidential speech a group of 5 protesters managed to bypass security and assassinate Tolan. Not sure how security managed to let 5 people through, that’s kind of odd now that I think about it. I'm not sure, politics and uh, well, death I guess, they're not my forte. I try to avoid them. Anyway, yeah, they managed to kill him and 3 of the 5-escaped unharmed, 2 were killed immediately by some of the security dudes. Pretty brutal, saw clips of it on live leak. Blood and body parts all over the place, kind of like that one subreddit where you can watch people die. The name slips my mind right now.\n\nSince then factions of people have formed, you got your typical \"Blood Hands\", \"Farlanders\" and my personal favourite \"Wanderer Wacker's\", oh and the bandits, but I'm not sure if they count, y’know?\nSince the formation of these clans, uh - 'factions', sorry, too much WoW, the world around us kind of took a dump and forgot to flush, stores have been turned into faction houses and raid shelters, the biggest faction even taking over the Tolan Tower, they've held it for the past 3 years! \n\nMy local shopping centre is overrun with bandits and its quite hard to get much done, however there is one shop which all factions, even the bandits, have agreed is a green zone, which basically means nobody does anything there. Pretty nice of everyone. That store is Kendrick’s general goods store, where he sells food, medicine, all that good stuff. I typically go there every 3 weeks to get my supplies, which we still pay for with normal money, none of the Fallout bottlecap stuff yet. \n\nSince the “apocalypse”, everybody had to completely change their lives, personalities and routines. My life didn’t really change that much, as I was out of touch from reality anyway. My personality is still socially anxious and isolated and my routine doesn't really involve all that much, waking up at whenever, making some breakfast – which is usually buttered bread and then playing Skyrim or Fallout, or any game I had on steam that was offline compatible. Yeah, I know what you’re thinking, “oh, how does he still have electricity?!” Well, smart-asses, I got solar power. Yeah, it’s not too great and sometimes I can’t play, so I’ll read some books, but typically I can play whenever. My sneak archer is coming along nicely. Anyway, every 3 weeks when I go to the store I have to take a certain route, to avoid bandits and factions. I sneak through the old farmer’s patch, climb some railings and make my way through an abandoned factory and make my way through some alleyways behind the shopping centre, there’s some staircases that lead you to the exit, which is right next to Kendrick’s. Pretty convenient for me, as I can get there and back in about 35 minutes.\n\nLife’s been pretty good recently, no bandits searching around my area anymore. Had to uh.. get rid of a few before. Nothing big, just a pest problem kinda situation. Find the pest, exterminate it. Badabing, Badaboom.\nWell.. I mean it’s been decent enough I guess. I’ve got 37 saves on Skyrim and 23 on Fallout. It’s still fun, just.. you get kind of bored of doing absolutely nothing after a while. I can’t believe it’s come to this, but I’m considering finally going out and joining a faction. It’d mean me actually changing my every day routine, and that’s quite sad to think about, but.. Maybe it’s time for change? Yeah.. yeah maybe it is. I think so… Yeah.. yeah, I’m gonna do it. I’ve never changed my routine so drastically before, but I think it’s time for change. I think my wrists are starting to get problems with them anyway, so no biggie I guess.\n\nAlright, my gear is packed and I’m heading to Xoda town, formerly known as Ohio. Xoda town is run by the Blood Hands, and I know one of their higher up members pretty well, good old Danny. We grew up together. Right, times come. I’m off, hopefully the bandits aren’t on heavy patrol tonight.\n\n\n(Writers note: I know this strayed away from the writing prompt a little, but I got carried away. Hope you all enjoyed.)\n",
"When looking back on my old life and the world we live in today not much has changed. Sure billions of people died. That is what happens when you decide to fight against Satan's army of the dead. So what if the entire continent of Australia was destroyed. Even before the apocalypse started that place had some seriously fucked up animals. To tell you the truth I quite enjoy the new world. People are more down to earth. My best friend is a zombie from the time of Julius Caesar. The first few years was a tough transition. The hardest aspect of the whole ordeal was dealing with bandits. These bandits where the same people who would cut you off while driving. Same people who would leave their trash on the ground instead finding a trashcan. Trying to get to work everyday with bandits always after you may be dangerous, but no more dangerous than driving a car in the old world. Before the apocalypse I was a waiter at a restaurant. Today I work at restaurant.\n\n The customers are still the same. Only difference is the menu. Where meatloaf once was is now brainloaf for zombies. Spaghetti is now worms for birds the size of minivans. Bloody Mary's are now Bloody Mary's for vampires. You still have your cheap tippers, the leprechauns, always stingy with there money. The keep telling me the same bullshit that my tip is at the end of the rainbow. That's all grand, only problem is it now rains cats and dogs and you do not want to be stuck in those storms. \n\nAll in all, this new world is awesome. Everyone is nicer to each other because everyone knows at least one witch. You don't want to wake up one day with your head the size of a grape so you play nice with others. The real killer is the amount of taxes you have to pay. ",
"(My first time posting a story, any feedback is much appreciated!)\n\n\nBusiness didn’t change much after the apocalypse, the patrons just became a whole lot more rude.\n\n\n“I got two shotgun shells on black” said the particularly loud and smelly man in a very bloody overcoat.\n\n\n“For the last time, we do not accept shotgun shells at the high rollers table, we only take magazines or boxes. Go to the regular tables or step away from the table.” Nathan said frustratedly as he attempted to get the man to leave.\n\n\nThe man grunted and walked away from the table muttering something about bullshit service.\n\n\nThese are the everyday conversations Nathan has had to make with patrons ever since the destruction of world currencies. Nathan could never understand why these assholes thought that their useless crap would make good currency, He prefered bottle caps or other small yet easily valued items. \n\n\nNot only were the world’s currencies destroyed after the governments fell, but apparently people's manners and common sense went out the window(or the good ones were killed off, go figure). Nathan was always a bit of an asshole to patrons but the day the world went to shit he was the only dealer to be accepted by the new breed of post-apocalyptic assholes mainly because he could dish out what they threw at him along side his trusty revolver aptly named “The House”.\n\n\nLife never really changed after the apocalypse for Nathan, he continued his working at the casino under new management of some gang calling them the saviors or some shit. All Nathan cared about was that they gave him their money and that they didn’t try anything at his table. The gang boss Eric took a particular interest in Nathan seeing as Nathan survived on his own during the nuclear detonations. Truth be told, Nathan was at home sick that day and the bombs didn’t fall close to his house or the casino which was only a few blocks away on del toro avenue. Nathan was not only protected by the gang but they actually started to protect his house and treat Nathan as an asset seeing as he made them a lot of “money”. He was given his own “uniform” which was actually just a pair of leather assless chaps with spikes down the sides and some sort of overcoat with blood on it. Nathan prefered his old uniform, the classic black tux with hidden inside pocket for his revolver.\n\n\nSurprisingly, with the amount of gun toting thugs and crazies, Nathan was able to keep the casino in working order and actually became the owner of the casino but would still give some of the earnings to the saviors. Only a few times in his career did he have to use “The House”, One such time was when some crazy guy in a unitard and cowboy hat tried to buy his way onto the high rollers table with 1 badly bruised banana and a pair of roller skates with square wheels(don’t ask), let’s just say that Nathan had a new cowboy hat and a pair of roller skates for the boss. Another such time was when a particularly Hammered man attempted to steal the dice from the high roller table, poor guy left with a hole in his right hand and a finger off on his left. \n\n\nNathan almost felt bad but he knew that the casino was his bastion of hope in the destroyed world after india attempted to invade china and the whole world got sucked into what was known as the worst war in human history that his casino was a bastion of hope and sin. Even with half the population of the world dead, he still had people show up from across the world in order to gamble their worthless possessions away. But life goes on for Nathan and he wouldn’t have it any other way."
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[WP] The Ark ships have arrived and the "aliens" want their world back. We were just supposed to be placeholders.
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"\"What do you mean, your placeholder?\" The president of the United States spouted. He wasn't exactly pleased. The tall, fair men looked at each other, surprised. \n\n\"Didn't they tell you? Weren't you warned? Have you read any of the Egyptian Hieroglyphics? I'm sorry, but this isn't our fault. How could you all forget? Why are there so many of you?\" The 'alien' spoke softly and with a gentle voice. The president's face turned red and the prime minister of Great Britain. piped up. \n\n\"You expect us to believe ancient writings as our warning AND how we were supposed to remember? Where have you been for the last millennia?\" The prime minister was finding it difficult to keep his temper in check. Other world leaders agreed. \n\n\"I sink ve should send you back to ze stars, vhere you came from!\" The leader of Russia was threatening. His glare was steely and his eyes cold. How dare they come back, after hundreds of thousands of years, and make them leave their home? This was Earth, dammit! Home to homo sapiens, after all! He calmly drank from his glass, not willing to portray his outrage. \n\n\"I'm sorry, but we meant to come back sooner...we just had so many errands to run. I didn't realize you'd all multiply like Xanoglars! We didn't expect you to even evolve, or discover electricity. You were just meant to hold our place on this planet while we were away.\" \n\n\"So you're practically equating the human race, and tell me here if I'm wrong, you're equating the human race to that of a sweater placed on a chair?! That's just ridiculous, let me tell you.\" The president was puffing. \n\n\"Well...when you put it like that, it makes us sound bad, but we do want our planet back...\" The alien was calm, nice, but solid in what he wanted. Everyone in the room groaned. \n\n\"You're not getting this planet back. It's ours now.\" Everyone turned in surprise to the Canadian Monarch. She was usually so quiet. She sparked a movement. \n\n\"Yeah! You wanna fight for it?\" \n\n\"Filthy immigrants, you can't take our planet away. Our planet is huge, absolutely the best. You can't have it.\" \n\nThe aliens sighed as a small uproar overtook the room. \n\n\"As you wish. We will fight you for it. Now, how does 'war' work with so many of you? We can take turns if you'd like.\" The alien remained civil. \n\n\"How does war work?\" A laugh erupted. \n\n\"Yes, there are just so many countries. Come, let the first battle begin.\" The alien explained. \"Who will fight me first?\" \n\n\"I vill.\" The Russian prime minister stood, cracking his knuckles. He approached the alien, and took his stance. \n\n\"Um, what are you doing?\" the alien asked as he held one hand over the other. The hand underneath was held flat, palm up, and the other was held in a fist above it. The Russian leader understood suddenly. His eyebrows raised in surprise. \n\n\"Really?\" He asked. He glowered. \"So be it.\" \n\nThe first match of rock, paper scissors looked in the Russian prime minister's favor. He walked away, smirking. \n\n\"I have done well.\" And he sat. And thus, the battle for Earth ensued. "
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[WP] Satan gave me a mission. “You’ll be back in world and run an ad campaing for a product of hell. If you succeed, you will be sent to heaven. You’re free to choose the product you want.”
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"\"So, what do you want me to do?\"\n\n\"I want you to develop and market a product for sale amongst the living. It can be whatever you want, but it needs to be a little demonic.\"\n\nLucifer leaned back in his chair. \"if you pull this off I'll bump you upstairs. If you fail, you're mine for eternity. No earning your way back on judgement day like everyone else. Are you willing to try?\"\n\nThis was hard. I'd only been down here for a couple of months, and I knew that I would regret turning down this chance. Eternity is a hell of a gamble, but no risk no reward. Right?\n\n\"How long do I have?\"\n\n\"You won't have to worry about fabrication or manufacturing. If you can think it we can make it. From conception to the end of the marketing campaign I''ll give you one year and a day.\" He leaned forward. \"You have to decide right now. the clock starts the instant you say yes. If no, my people will be happy to escort you back.\"\n\nI said yes.\n\nThings happened quickly then. He smiled, pointed at a door I hadn't noticed up till now and shoo'd me away. The door opened up on a fully furnished apartment in a high rise somewhere in New York. The most beautiful woman I had ever seen was waiting for me with a clipboard. She smiled and ushered me in.\n\n\"Welcome. My name is Janine. I'll be your assistant here. If you'll follow me, I can give you the nickel tour.\"\n\nI followed as she showed me around. It was all I could ever have dreamed of having. The rooms were big with high ceilings, and very well appointed. In addition to the living area there was a large workroom and and office.\n\n\"You'll have everything that you need here. Your wallet and passport are on the dresser in your bedroom. You'll never have to worry about the credit cards being declined. A cell phone is waiting for you in the office. Don't use it to call any friends or family. You're dead, remember? I wish you luck. If you need anything, don't hesitate to call.\"\n\nWith that, she vanished. It was only after she left that it occurred to me that I didn't have her number.\n\nI really thought that I should get straight to work, but it had been years since I had anything to eat. I grabbed my new stuff and walked out the door.\n\nI was walking the city, and noticed that it had changed from when I was last here. It was strange. Like someone had draped fresh skin over an old set of bones. There was the same New York feeling. People on the streets. Yellow cabs. But everything was a little too clean. Too shiny. I got the impression that I had been gone for longer than I first thought.\n\nI took out the cell phone that had been in the office. At least I hope it was a cell phone. It only had a couple of buttons, and those were in odd places. I figured it could wait for later.\n\nI managed to find a good looking chinese place off of West Thirty Fourth and nearly gagged at the prices. I didn't have to worry about paying, but damn money doesn't buy what it used to.\n\nAfter I ate Just kind of wandered for a bit. Just feeling good to be among the living again.\n\nI got back to the apartment right around sunrise.\n\nAfter sleeping until around midday I got to work in earnest. I looked around the internet for a while, speaking of things that have changed, and found that while the world had definitely advanced in some ways, it decidedly had not in others.\n\nI would like to say that I worked through the hours to figure something out. I would like to say that I spent days trying to work my head around something that would succeed. But, it only took me about fifteen minutes.\n\nLucifer wanted something demonic. I figured I should cater to man's sins. Most would require something illegal. Three did not: Sloth, Vanity, and Covetousness. I'm human. I can do that. I was watching tv when the idea hit me. So fully formed that I still suspect its origin.\n\nEveryone wants to look a little better. Not just good. Better than someone else. No one wants to put in the work. I can do that.\n\nI looked at the phone again. I pressed one of the buttons and the entire face lit up. \"Swipe to open,\" it said to me. There was a little flashing dot so I put my finger on it and dragged the dot across the screen. There were a bunch of icons. One was a phone. After that I saw a contacts menu. Only one name: Janine. I called her and she told me she would be there momentarily.\n\nAbout a minute later she appeared in the middle of the workroom, \"Sorry it took me so long. Someone had hell to pay.\"\n\n\"Puns? Really?\"\n\n\"Can't spell punishment without 'pun.' I'm a demon, what do you expect?\"\n\n\"Fair enough. Can you tell the powers that be I have my idea. I was thinking a facial cream that makes the person more beautiful for a day.\"\n\n\"That doesn't seem very demonic. I don't think the boss will approve.\"\n\n\"I haven't told you the twist yet. Every day of beauty costs one year from the end of your life. Also, it's addictive.\"\n\n\"That's something we can work with. Do you have a name yet?\"\n\n\"I was thinking: Vanity. You know, one word. Keep it nice and simple.\"\n\nJanine smiled and called the boss. She went into the corner to talk. I tried to maintain a discreet distance, but my soul was on the line. She held up her hand when I got too close. After a second she hung up and said that we were good to go.\n\nAfter that she set up meetings with advertising firms all over the world. I don't need to tell you what happened. Would people trade a year of life in some unidentified distance for a moment of glory?\n\nIt took us a month to get the products to market. It took a month for the first order to sell out. That was just in the United States. When we went global the month after that we sold out inside two weeks. After that the forges of hell were going nonstop to meet the demand. \n\nAt first I was relieved that I had succeeded. I got a call from Lucifer himself congratulating me. He told me that I could finish out my year and a day on earth and head upstairs after. I spent the first weeks celebrating. Then a month just traveling. Taking it easy. The kind of extended vacation I never could have dreamed of in my previous life.\n\nIt was shortly after I started traveling that I began to notice the bodies. People dressed for parties. People in restaurants. At nightclubs. It didn't matter where I went. The bodies were everywhere. It seems that a large segment of the population had decided to use Vanity daily. Not believing that you could run yourself out of time.\n\nEach jar had enough cream for ten applications. That's a decade of life. The people dropping dead had run the clock so far, so fast, that they were dead inside of a month.\n\nSix months after I had returned to the world of the living there were more dead than could be easily disposed of. And Vanity still sold. WHO leaders declared that this had the potential to be an extinction level event if left unchecked. And Vanity still sold.\n\nIt's been a year and a day. Here I am at the pearly gates. Surrounded by souls that see them barred. You will let me through, because the deal still holds. And I am no hero to sacrifice myself. But not these hordes of my victims. They stay behind. Damned by my Vanity. ",
"I took a deep breath and waited for the camera to start rolling. I had fought for this and I would finally get to see those pearly gates.. see my family again. It all led down to that final countdown from the cameraman in front of me.\n\n\nThree.\n\n\nTwo.\n\n\nOne.\n\n\n\"Mike Maze here with the awesome cleaning power of Oxiclean!\""
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[WP] The Nigerian Prince is a real person, and one day, finally sends everyone back the money he owes them.
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"Ashley rubbed her temples. Just when things seemed to be going well, she found herself in the same situation as always.\n\n\"Soooooo strapped for cash right now,\" she repeated to herself as she stared at her computer screen, thinking about how she was going to afford any kind of wedding ceremony for her and Toby, her fiance. She had just received an email from a venue they had been negotiating with.\n\n\"Five thousand dollars! If only I had five thousand dollars! My dream dress, my dream honeymoon vacation. If only I had five thousand dollars for me and Toby....\" Over and over, as much as she wanted to run around screaming, wanted to throw things at the wall, wanted to smash her fists against her bed and cry into her pillow, she just stared at her screen repeating these words.\n\nIt really was Ashley's fault that she was low on wedding funds. Her friends and family had always warned her that she was too generous with her money, or as her best friend Grace had so insensitively said the other day, too gullible.\n\n\"Too gullible. You're too gullible,\" Ashley said as she slouched in her chair. \"Every time a stranger comes with some sob story or some acquaintance has a 'great business idea,' it sounds so moving and the next thing you know, you're putting down five hundred bucks towards some restaurant or home business that's already dead on arrival.\"\n\nThe worst that her friends made fun of her for falling for one of those Nigerian prince scams about ten years ago. How was she supposed to know that those chain emails were fake? Somehow, everyone seemed to be smart about it except her. \"Get with the times,\" her friends said. \"It's not the 90's anymore. How do you not know about those letters?\" Ashley honestly had no idea. The worst was her nickname, \"Nigerian princess.\" Ashley lost herself in these thoughts.\n\nLoud engine sounds came outside her door. It sounded like a parade of cars, and a doorbell rang. \n\n\"I'll get it Toby!\" Ashley said as she stood up from her chair. Strange, she thought. She and Toby had just planned to stay at home and not spend any money today.\n\nWhen she got to her living room, she saw Toby staring out of the window, his jaw agape.\n\n\"What's going on?\" Ashley asked, looking out the peephole. \"What do you.... oh........ wow.....\" she stuttered. \n\nOutside her front door was a sharply dressed black man with several black vans. He was holding a white wedding dress with laces and embroidered roses, just like the pictures of her favorite dress.\n\nAshley opened the door.\n\n\"Greetings, Ashley Porter. My name is Prince Benin. On October 23rd, 2005, you responded to my plea for help and advanced me $5000. I had read your online facebook profile and immediately knew you would be a genuine and trustworthy man or woman. Thank you for assisting me by wiring $5000 USD so that I could pay my late father's outstanding debts to access my late father's inheritance in the offshore account with the Royal Bank of Nigeria. God is generous to those who are generous to others, my friend.\"\n\nAshley was dumbfounded.\n\nPrince Benin continued, \"I will also instate you as an honorary princess of Nigeria. I heard that you are getting married soon, and I want you to be married at the royal five star hotel in Nigeria. I will fly each of your guests to the capital and pay for all expenses!\"\n\nAshley began to smile.\n\n\"I have one other small matter, my friend. First, in order to access the proper funds, the Royal Bank of Nigeria is asking for a deposit of considerable size. My friend, I do not have the sufficient cash on hand, so I must ask you and others to help me cover the cost and restore more of my wealth. Beloved friend, can you please spare $6,500 USD to help me?\"\n\nAshley's facial expression slowly began to change. It started with her smile turning flat. Her brows furrowed and she began to blush and frown. Prince Benin was quite taken aback.\n\n\"How dare the Royal Bank of Nigeria do this sort of thing again. Of course I'll help you, Prince Benin. Let me go find my checkbook.\""
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[WP] A GoT episode in the style of "It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia"
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"TITLE: 2:30 am \nTITLE: On a Monday \nTITLE: Kings Landing, Westeros \nOVER TITLES, WE HEAR: \nJaime (V.O.) \nThen I say to her, \"not for all the gold in King's landing?\". \nKing's Guard 1(V.O.) \nAnd that did it? \nJaime (V.O.) \nNot as well as my backhand. \nFADE IN: \nINT. Throne room - NIGHT \nJaime, Cersei and two King's guard stand around. \nCersei \nMust we all know where you bury your family jewels and how much family gold you use to do so? \nJaime \nShe is just Jealous. As pretty as my sister is she is my sister. \nGuard 1 \nIs that an issue now? \nJaime and Cersei \nWhat? \nGuard 2 \nOh we have to check by... not here... \n \nExit guards. \n\n\nCersei \nThat is on you. \nJaime \nSo be it, but if that is on me... would it kill you to learn a thing or two from it. \nCersei \nWhat is that supposed to mean? \nJaime \nI'm just saying, you've been drier than a dothraki's feet since the kids died. \nCersei \n... \nJaime \nDon't take offense, I'm just saying... it's been awhile since we burned through them and we should probably make a few more. \nExit Cersei \nJaime \nIs this about what the guards said? I can't kill every guard in King's Landing Cersei... \n\nCue title card: **\"Jaime kills every guard in king's landing\"** \n\nOpen on a large room. Tyrion, Greyworm and Dany stand around. \nTyrion \nSo to recap... the city is in need of slaves. \nDany \nThe city is in want. \nTyrion \nNeed or want is subjective, they can want, but if there is enough of them then we need. And if that happens, and you agree the city needs us and we need our heads then... the city is in need of slaves. \nGreyworm \nSlavery is a sickness, an addiction. It is evil. \nTyrion \nThat may very well be, but times like this call for balls of brass. Or balls in general really. \nDany \nEnough. We can't enslave people. \nTyrion \nWe don't have to. Enslaving people is wrong, but \nDany \nBut? \nTyrion\nwe could buy slaves. Those people are already slaves. Thus we don't enslave them.\nActually if we are nice to them... we could make their existence better.\nA slow road to freeing them. We just make them a withdrawal slave.\nDany \nWithdrawal slavery? \nTyrion \nTo stave off the riots, beheadings and murder rapes that are inevitable otherwise. \nGreyworm \nOr we don't resort to slavery. \nTyrion \nIf you aren't attached to your head then we can sort that for you, but I am to mine and so I'd like to think about this a little more. \nSlavery is bad, but so is being castrated by an angry mob. \nDany \nJust so we are clear... we are buying slaves. \nTyrion \nBuying slaves. \nGreyworm \nYou're buying slaves? \nDany \nBut we are going to free them. \nTyrion \nNot yet. \nGreyworm \nbut soon. \nDany \nvery soon. \nTyrion \nstick with soon... I don't want to commit to anything too fast. \n",
"Interior, Winterfell's Great Hall\n\nJon, Sansa, Sam, and Jorah are all sitting around drinking mead. \n\nJon: I'm telling you, Sam, you couldn't beat a giant in a fight.\n\nSam: But I could. I killed a White Walker. \n\nSam does a Dothraki fighting pose.\n\nJon: You don't know Dothraki.\n\nSam: I do too!\n\nSansa: No you don't, Sam.\n\nSam: Why don't you be quiet, you stupid raven.\n\nJon: Good one, brother.\n\nThe door to the Great Hall busts open, Tyrion enters.\n\nTyrion: Alright everyone, get your shit together!\n\nSansa: Tyrion, what the hell is going on?\n\nTyrion: The whole Lannister army is attacking. We have to get out of her before the kill us.\n\nSam: The Lannister would never attack us.\n\n---\n\nCue title card: The Gang is Attacked by the Lannisters\n\n---\n\nExtr. Winterfell Courtyard, Day\n\nTyrion, Jon, and Sansa all stand near the stables. \n\nTyrion: I'm telling, Jon. Once that army comes in here we're all going to be dead. \n\nJon: You don't know what you're talking about, Tyrion.\n\nTyrion: I am a Lannister.\n\nJon: A business Lannister, not a fighting one. \n\nTyrion: Alright, I will forget about you. I'm going to get ready so I won't be killed. I need to find somewhere to put all my Wildfire. \n\nExit Tyrion.\n\nJon: What if his right, Sansa?\n\nSansa: We will be dead.\n\nJon: No, they'll be dead. If we survive then we can take the throne back.\n\nSansa: By the Old Gods, I could be queen, and not that bitch.\n\nJon: I think I have an idea. \n\nEnd Scene.\n\n---\n\nExtr. Wood, Day.\n\nJorah and Sam are in winter gear trekking through the snow.\n\nJorah: I thought that Jon said all the giants are dead.\n\nSam: You cannot listen to Jon. I know that these Wildlings will know where a Giant is.\n\nJorah: If you say so.\n\nSam and Jorah enter into a Wildling camp that has moved South of the wall. Many Wildlings walk around freely.\n\nSam: Look at them all. All of these strong men, able to do as they please. These are heroes.\n\nJorah: What?\n\nSam: Look at how masculine these Wildlings are. I imagine they know some awe inspiring fighting styles. \n\nSam approaches a Wildling. \n\nSam: Excuse me, sir? Do you know where any giants are?\n\nWildling: Giants? Are you crazy?\n\nSam: I want to show my friend here my Dothraki moves.\n\nSam does more pseudo-Dothraki poses. \n\nWildling: Ha, and I'm the Lord of Light!\n\nJorah: I know lot of Lord of Light knowledge. \n\nWildling: You 'ardly seem to know the common tongue. \n\nSam: And you hardly know a fighter when you see one. Please just show me to your strongest fighter, he will make a fine substitute for a giant. \n\nWildling: If you say so.\n\nThe Wildling walks off and into a tent with a label on it. \n\nJorah: Sam, Wildlings have a dragon too?\n\nSam: What?\n\nJorah: See that tent the man walked into? The sign says dragon.\n\nSam: You mean the one that says \"danger?\"\n\nJorah: I thought that-\n\nThe Wildling returns with a masked man who is of short height. \n\nWildling: Here is our best fighter. \n\nMasked Man: Sam? Jorah?\n\nSam: Who are you?\n\nThe man removes his mask to reveal he is Tyrion. \n\nTyrion: It's me, Tyrion.\n\nSam: Tyrion?! What the hell are you doing here? \n\nTyrion: I told you, the damn Lannisters are going to attack Winterfell! I came here to be safe. Plus, have you seen some of these Wildling women? Whew, they'll knock your rocks off.\n\nSam: The Lannisters won't attack Winterfell. And how'd you get here?\n\nTyrion: I told these fools that I was a Tree God.\n\nSam: A Tree God?\n\nTyrion: I don't know, some Wildling shit. All the girls are lining up [YELLING] to see my giant cock. \n\nSuddenly a Wildling runs out. \n\nWildling: Did you sleep with my wife?\n\nTyrion: Oh shit! Back to Winterfell.\n\nTyrion, Sam, and Jorah all jump onto a horse and run away as the Wildling stays screaming. \n\nEnd Scene\n\n---\n\nIntr. Winterfell Great Hall \n\nHound: You said Sansa was here?\n\nJon: Yes, she'll be here. \n\nHound: And she'll kiss me?\n\nJon: Yes, whatever.\n\nSansa enters.\n\nSansa: Hello. Jon, will you come here.\n\nJon: Yes.\n\nSansa: [QUIETLY] What the hell is he doing here?\n\nJon: I went and found him. If the Lannisters do attack, he'll be a great help.\n\nSansa: Okay, that's actually a good idea. \n\nHound: Hello little bird.\n\nJon: That's a good one!\n\nTyrion, Sam, and Jorah enter.\n\nTyrion: We have to get the hell out of here!\n\nJon: The Lannisters aren't coming. \n\nSam: He angered an entire camp of Wildlings and now they're coming here. \n\nJon: Dammit, Tyrion!\n\nTyrion: I can't help it that women like to flog the one eyed snake!\n\nSansa: Ewww.\n\nThere's a great commotion outside.\n\nJon: What is it? \n\nJorah: I'll look.\n\nJon: What do you see.\n\nJorah: It is the damn Lannisters!\n\nTyrion: I told you! \n\nJon: Let's get to the horses!\n\n---\n\nThe gang and Hound run outside to the courtyard. The army is beginning to tear the door down. \n\nJon: We need to go.\n\nThe gang all gets seat in Jon's carriage, there is no room for Hound. \n\nHound: What about me?\n\nJon: There's no room.\n\nHound: Move these bloody barrels!\n\nTyrion: Don't touch those! They're mine!\n\nHound: What the hell?\n\nSansa: Stay and fight my noble knight.\n\nShe kisses him.\n\nHound: Okay.\n\nThe carriage pulls off.\n\nJon: Was that real?\n\nSansa: No, I didn't want to have to hear him bitching about not getting a seat. \n\nThe gang is riding out of the town when they see the Wildling horde. \n\nJon: Shit, its the Wildlings! \n\nSansa: Stop! \n\nJon: The horses won't stop!\n\nJorah: Wildlings, bitches! Wooh!\n\nJorah jumped from the carriage.\n\nTyrion: Shit. \n\nTyrion jumps, followed by Sam, Sansa, and Jon. The carriage continues to the horde when a torch is thrown on it and it blows up Winterfell. The gang looks as Winterfell burns in green flame, and the two armies and citizens of Winterfell scream in pain. \n\nTyrion: Anyone for some beer?\n\nGang: Yeah.\n\nEnd.\n\nEdit: I made some changes to the format that might make for an easier read. "
] | 2
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[WP] Describe your muse; what they look like, how they arrive when they come to visit, what they do that inspires you to create.
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[
"My muse is a conniving bitch. All day, she lays around on the sofa eating packets of crisps and smoking cigarettes. When I try to talk to her, she looks at me, rolls her eyes, and sighs: \"I'll do it tomorrow\". She always fails to inspire me. \n\nIt wasn't always like that. I still remember when she came into my life, radiant and full of energy. She wore a cotton dress with flowers printed on it. Her blond hair cascaded down her shoulders like a silky waterfall. \"Sing! Write! Paint!\", she called to me, and inspiration shot through me. For months, I wrote stories unlike any I'd written before. They carried in them an integral purity, flowing so naturally from my fingertips as if pulled straight out of life itself. Though I could not paint, I felt compelled to do so. Even in that, there was a raw energy that was fascinating.\n\nShe burnt bright, beautifully, and only briefly. Now, she is spent. The decline was subtle and steady. My work started to lose its lustre, insofar - looking back - it was ever there. I've now spent years looking at blank pages and blank canvases, trying, ironically, to inspire my muse to inspire me.\n\nShe is a burden on me now. What was once admiration has turned to hate. What was once passion has become indifference. Her flower-patterned dress carries a stench that robs any scent of its pleasure. Her brightness has become a darkness, muting colours and draining the life out of the light. Only one thought now goes through my head: \"How do I get rid of her?\""
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[WP] When you draw people, they talk to you. At first, you just drew normal people, but after awhile, you start drawing stranger, more deranged looking people.
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[
"Wintertime is not the ideal season to move to a new city, nor is it advisable to do so with a car on the precipice of junkhood. Eight days out from Christmas - the college students had left for home, the glow of the lights in Old Town amplified by the fresh coat of snow untouched by drunken revelers: tonight was the night to make moves, to find my new haunt. Maybe even a friend or two. With a freshly washed flannel on and two beers in me, there was no time like the present. \n\nMy car will not start. I turn the accessories off and keep the ignition engaged for 6... 7... 8 seconds, just as a quick Google search has told me to do. Wait a few minutes, try it again. A few desperate sputters, but it will not turn over.\n\n---\n\nSociability is something that has never come naturally to me, so to have my finely-laid plans to integrate myself into my new town blown up like this so unexpectedly... I unhook the top of my laces from the eyelets on my boots, tug them off and flick them back towards the front door with disdain. I make a beeline towards the fridge, understanding that wherever my night takes me, a portion of the ten remaining beers inside will be involved. \n\nI throw on my slippers, grab my notebook, and plop down at my desk, a browser tab still open to the Facebook page of the bar that I had decided on after far too much deliberation. Another night in it is. \n\n---\n\n*\"Don't mourn me, Daniel. What you heard is only a small part of my story. I assure you the loving God will give me a little of the light and illuminate me into the eternal blessed life!\"*\n\nWell then.\n\nA few drinks further into my night, it had made sense to sketch the woman singing in [Mahler's 2nd Symphony](https://youtu.be/gpug1NIi2s0?t=2918), her's being the only human voice I had heard in a number of hours. She was plain, middle-aged, wrecked with anguish. I don't speak German, but I understood her sorrows. It felt right to give her a face... a mouth... eyes. \n\nBut now we conversed as if she was sitting in the room with me, her thoughts flowed from the page and into my thoughts, the harsh sounds of her foreign tongue no obstacle for my loosened ears.\n\n---\n\nMy pages swell with faces of those I'm eager to talk to, to anser some great truth or weird query. Shoeless Joe Jackson (the man himself, not his ghost), one who caught a glimpse of [Desolation Row](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=35gheud5xBo), my grandfather. My sketches speak back to me, revealing more and more of the world.\n\n---\n\n\"We exist, I assure you. You thought that in a universe so vast we *wouldn't* be out there?\"\n\nIts peaceful, pencil-shaded eyes gazed back at me, its misshapen head mere inches in height, speaking with a wisdom I couldn't place but knew to be true. I had drawn every face I knew and learned all there is to know about my world. Might as well ask about the other stuff. \n\nIt continued: \"We have our Caesars, our Christs, our Hitlers too. And it's not just us. There's countless others out there, all with their own stories. Triumphs, tragedies, histories so complex that I can't even begin to teach you about what they meant to those that experienced it. And it's all just a blip to you. A flicker in your night sky, a reading on your monitors. You can appreciate it without knowing everything about it. It happened. That's something worth appreciating.\"\n\n(Which is an odd thing to say to someone who needs to figure out a car battery replacement in the morning.)"
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You try to figure out how to survive, but also how your friends died and who, or what is responsible.
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[WP] You and your friends decide to go on a night tour of a horror house. As you explore the house, it suddenly goes dark and when your eyes adjust to the dark, you see all of your friends dead. You are alone.
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[
"They were all dead. The last thing I remembered was the blackout. I moved my arms and legs trying to find my friends but there was nothing around me. My eyes adjusted soon and I saw them. They were hanging from their legs, covered in blood, their lifeless eyes wide open in awe and horror and I was standing in the centre. I went numb. Then I screamed. And then I went numb again. My trembling hands reached for my cell phone. I took it out of my pocket only to drop it again. My body refused to function and my brain couldn’t fathom what was happening. \n\nAlone, afraid longing for someone to help me I heard the scratching noise coming from the closet at the corner of the room. Now I am praying to be alone.\n"
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[WP] A dragon finds a little kid wandering alone through the woods, and takes it upon itself to raise the child. Turns out though, the kid wasn't an orphan. The parents have shown up, and now they want their child back.
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[
"\"Listen,\" the dragon said, \"I'm a magical dragon that takes on orphans and goes on magical adventures with them. I can't just ignore an orphan in the woods.\"\n\n\"That's what I'm trying to tell you,\" I said, \"he's not an orphan. He was just angry that we were trying to send him to bed early so he ran off.\"\n\n\"He said you died in a tragic house-catching-fire-due-to-fart-gas accident.\"\n\nI barely stopped myself from rolling my eyes. \"And you believed that?\"\n\n\"I've seen it happen,\" the dragon said authoritatively.\n\n\"Okay,\" I said, figuring this wasn't worth arguing, \"the point is that I clearly am not dead and neither is his mother so we'd like our son back now.\"\n\n\"I've already adopted him,\" the dragon said. \"I would be a poor parent indeed if I simply relinquished my duty!\"\n\nI wasn't in the mood to take parenting advice from a mystical dragon that'd never had to change a diaper. \"You don't have the duty, okay! Even if our kid's mad at us, that doesn't mean you can just adopt him!\"\n\nThe dragon grumbled. \"You do not understand, human. I am a creature of magic and, as such, am bound by my nature more wholly than creatures of the earth like yourself. I must *always* take on an orphan.\"\n\n\"And the magical adventures?\" I said.\n\n\"That's just so it doesn't get boring,\" the dragon said. \"I'd really much rather sit on my pile of gold and nap.\"\n\n\"You and me both, buddy.\"\n\nThe dragon was looking at me now in that sly crafty way that dragons had. \"That, then, is the solution.\"\n\nI knew he was up to something but had no idea what. \"Are you asking for a bribe?\" I didn't have much in the way of gold.\n\n\"No!\" The dragon spread his wings triumphantly, announcing: \"If you would have your son back, you must take his place!\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\nThe dragon grinned, revealing its many, many teeth. \"Your parents passed recently, did they not? Though you are yourself not a youngster, you *are*, technically, an orphan.\"\n\n\"Oh!\" I said. That made its own kind of sense. \"So you're going to adopt me?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n----\n\n\"And that,\" I said to my wife, \"is why there's a dragon coming over for dinner.\"\n\nShe sighed. \"We're going to need a bigger table.\""
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[WP] A single Roman sentry stands on the wall at the northern most edge of the Roman empire in frozen Britain. On the horizon, he sees something he thought was merely legend.
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[
"\"What? It can't be! Is that!\" The sentry looks in the distance to see a figure driving what looks to be a geo metro convertible.\n\nAs it gets closer and closer he hears, distantly, a scary sound.\n\n\"No no it's just my imagination!\" The sentry shook his head and stared closer, straining to hear.\n\nOver the howling wind and mighty roar of the feo metro he heard three words that chilled him to the bone.\n\n\"Action Dan here!\"",
"_\"What's out there?\"_\n\n\"_Them._\"\n\nThe conversation was always short and sweet with the new legionaries that shipped in. Rotation forces were fun to torment in subtle ways. They still had their bronzed flesh from the long march north through barbarian territory and still carried themselves bound up in a second pair of robes in the northern wind. They would settle in well, as so many always did, but they would still peer out into the edge of the Roman frontier. Still gaze into that unknown abyss beyond the wall and into the wilds.\n\nIt had been 13 months since arriving, he had volunteered to remain another 11 months more. Promises of a promotion and a comfortable position back in mainland Rome had enticed Lanius into spending more of his waning youth attached to the frontier outposts. He kept his cloak loosely around his shoulders, letting the wind cool against his paling skin as he patrolled the line. \n\nDarkness at the edge of the world seemed ever more complete. The torches would flicker in the wills of weather and sentries would crowd closer to the flame in the nearing winter. Lanius strode from light to light, asking after his fellow soldiers. The checks were the same each night. Ensure they had their water, ask after their bread stores, try and catch some sneaking wine on post, inspect their weapons for readiness. The full moon would make checking the edge of a gladius by eye easier but would hinder his odds of catching the drinkers with little satchets of wine.\n\nBetween flames along the wall the wind picked up his flowing cloak and nearly pulled him over. Lanius had to brace against the edge of the wall to keep from being blown away. The temperature dropped and with it came a sheet of white, dusty snow. Moonlight reflected quickly off of fresh fall and the world glowed in a ghastly haze of light. The trees at the frontier; cut, cleared, and harvested to build the wall he stood on, seemed much closer as he peered.\n\nThen he could see it, without a single doubt in his mind. It wasn't the forest that had grown closer, but a swarm of living beings crouching towards the ramparts. Lanius dashed toward the nearest flame just as the arrows began to impact in wicked thumps all around him.\n\n11 more months seemed like a very different amount of time, suddenly.\n",
"\"Lucius!\"\n\n\"Mm?\"\n\n\"LUCIUS!\"\n\n\"WHAT?!\"\n\n\"Get up here! There's something in the distance.\"\n\n\"There's always something in the distance Felix, that is why Hadrian built the damn wall, now let me sleep.\"\n\n\"Luci-\"\n\n\"FINE! Now quiet down and get out of the way, you'll wake the whole of Caledonia with your squawking.\"\n\nEmerging from a makeshift tent propped against the wall, Lucius, clearly unhappy with his premature awakening, stomped up the steps leading to the ridge of the fortification. \n\n\"Look, look! Right there!\" cried Felix, pointing with his pilum in a unspecified, northerly direction. Lucius stared, trying to identify the object of his young comrade's attention.\n\n\"Jupiter save us, you've finally gone mad Felix. I see nothing.\"\n\n\"NO NO! You don't understand! That hillock, it wasn't there yesterday, I swear on my mother's life!\"\n\n\"I'm going back to sleep,\" announced Lucius, \"I take no responsibility for my actions if you wake me aga-\"\n\nSuddenly, the silence of the dewy morning was pierced by a roar unlike any either of the sentries had ever before heard. As the ground shook, Lucius' mind was immediately drawn to the tales of Vesuvius he had heard as a child.\n\n\"An eruption?!\" asked Lucius, turning once again to face the hills of the pictlands. \"An earthquake?!\"\n\n\"Pray to the Gods brother; for that hillock is now a mountain, and it has sprouted limbs!\" screamed Felix, eyes widening at the terror bounding towards the wall. \n\n\"Romanos beag a reáchtáil!\" roared the humongous giant, adorned in light blue tattoos and a kilt the size of seventy men, \"Benandonner riamh thriail latin roimh!\" \n\n\n\n\n\n\n",
"Marcus stood, his thin woollen cloak wrapped tightly around his well muscled shoulders. \"Fuck!\" he said as a fellow guard passed by his station, \"are we going to be here much longer?\" The man made an indistinct grunt and continued on his way. The relief should have arrived by now, the sun was nearly setting over the crunchy lightly snowed expanses of the edge of the civilised world. Marcus stretched his toes, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, they made a little cracking noise. His attention turned out to the landscape before him, so desolate, so pointlessly empty, but oh, actually..\n\nA shape was moving on the crest of a distant hill. Marcus watched it dully, these were usually deer or something else boring. His alarm grew when he realised the shape was heading directly towards the wall he was guarding. The shape disappeared behind another hill, Marcus looked around him, and saw that everyone else had vanished. He was fumbling for the horn to alert the others when he finally got a good look at the shape as it drew closer still. It looked like a person, but was unlike any other person he had seen coming from North of the wall. \n\nMarcus stared, transfixed at this person, this man. He looked the same as the other savages, with his wild hair, tattoos and ragged woven clothes, but there was something, terrifyingly wrong with this scotsman. Suddenly it came to Marcus in a rush. The man was.. smiling."
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[WP] You stand at the shallow pool of water staring at the hideous old witch with a crooked back and missing eyes. "I can answer the question you seek," she smiled with bloodied teeth, "But first, you must answer three of mine."
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[
"\"All who approach me for answers must answer me these questions three, then she answer they will see\" said the witch\n\"Ask me the question, witch, im not afraid\" i said\n\"WHAT is your name?\"\n\"Ehh... John. John smith\"\n\"WHAT is your quest?\"\n\"To get a answer to my quetion!\"\n\"WHAT is your favorite color?\"\n\"Blue\"\n\"Alright, come here and i will answer your question\"\n\"Very well- my question is this- why to witches burn?\"\n\"Because they weigh the same as a duck\"\n\"Thanks\"\nAnd then i left",
"**My 11 year old son is an aspiring writer. His story is below**\n\n“Okay, sure.” Steve was getting impatient now. He probably should of just asked another random passerby, but the witch interested him.\n\n“Alright, so first you give me your social security number,” The witch said with eager enthusiasm.\n\n“What? Why?”\n\n“If you don’t, then I won’t answer the question that you seek.”\n\n“Aren’t you that generic old witch from one of those fairy tales? Who asks for someone’s social security number in a fairy tale?”\n\n“Steve, it’s 2016. Witches don’t do that anymore.”\n\n“How do you know my name?”\n\n“It’s not important.”\n\n“Well I think it’s important.”\n\n“Next question!”\n\n“Wait, what—“\n\n“What’s your computer password?”\n\n“I’m not giving you my password.”\n\n“Yes you will.” The witch waved her hands in the glossy water.\n\n“You’re not a Jedi, that doesn't work on me.”\n\n“Darn it.”\n\n“I think I’m just gonna ask someone else.”\n\n“No, wait, don’t go! I hold the answer you seek!”\n\n“I JUST WANT DIRECTIONS TO THE HOME DEPOT!”\n "
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[WP] As a goof, you place an empty cardboard box up for auction on eBay, calling it "The world's first and only genuine Transmogrifier." Bidding immediately explodes, your home is ransacked, and now you're almost certainly being followed.
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[
"\"Action Dan here, Jen you wine transmogrifiner here!\" I giggled at the empty box I put up.\n\nThree hours later I checked eBay, a fella named bigauk44 bidded a thousand buckaroos on it!\n\nHe had a question \" is this real?\"\n\"Action dan here, yes sir it's as real as you think it is!\"\n\nSo I sent the package to him.\n\nA week later I keep seeing a fat dude in a bathrobe swinging a mall sword around outside my apartment.\n\nI'm scared to leave the house.\n\n"
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