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	[WP] Christmas, 2100. Santa knew this day would come... he must deliver presents to first children born on Mars.	[ "Christmas eve, 2100. Santa is preparing for his flight.\n\nSled rockets: Check. \nAfterburners: Check. \nSpacesuit pressure: Pressurized. \nDammit. I need to deliver presents to all kids, and that one kid on mars. Six months away. I need to cut that down to 15 minutes both ways. \"Jingle, get the experiment.\"\n\nAn alien symbiote. Found by NASA, they gave it to me for assistance with my run. I worked my ass off to get that thing to a passive state.\n\n\"Sir, are you sure you want to do this?\" \n\"Yes, Jingle, I'm very sure.\" \nHere goes nothing.", "The day that ole Saint Nick decided to sell his soul was the same day he knew that a reckoning would be coming, though he didn't know the who, the when, or even the where. He had traded his soul to the craft old solicitor for an extra 3000 years on the planet earth. Though he was trained in the ways of the Christian lord he had grown disillusioned with the waves of poverty, crime, and suffering that he failed to make even the slightest of break into. So on a cold December day in the year 275 AD, Saint Nick took a dagger, cut into his hand, and signed his name in blood on a page of calcified sulfur taken straight from the underworld itself. \n\nThe first 1800 years of this deal went as planned. Saint Nick was given a horde of demons to mold into whatever he desired, demons that could shorten themselves and make anything that one could imagine. He used these slaves of satan to build toys to tempt the children who followed the ways of begging and coveting, and rewarded those who were pious enough in their efforts to please the ghost of St Nick with the very best objects of distraction that any human child could desire. This continued uninterrupted until a certain movie with a certain ending and a certain 'F' word blurbed out was distributed to the masses in the year of 1983. \n\nSoon after its theatrical release, it dawned upon the once faithful children that perhaps their beloved and vaunted Santa Clause was merely a lie, a figment, a farce, a non-reality. They soon began to disbelieve and blaspheme faster than people dropped their cable TV packages in the 20's. Soon, Santa, who ran his operations off the faith of his followers, began to lose his powers. \n\nThis didn't cause much of an issue for many years as he only had to deliver presents to an ever dwindling group of loyal followers. But soon the demons began to grow angry, they had committed themselves to three millennia of service on this fat man's behalf, and in a world that North West stopped being a direction and instead became a president it dumbfounded the evil creatures that a man who gives out free toys couldn't inspire the belief in the most mold able animals in all the galaxy, human children. Many years of causing drug addictions, gayness, debt, slavery, or black in complexioness were wasted. \n\nSanta begged the devil to give him more time, he only wanted to please and help. But the devil had had enough of the fat man's tom foolery and decided to make a young jew a little too intelligent for his own good in the year 2050. The young man was born of Harvard professors and soon became famous for his prowess in physics and mathematics. He developed a means of propulsion that could send ten thousand people to Mars without stopping for donuts or coffee in only a year. After the venture gained the proper approvals and passed rigorous government audits plans to go to Mars were made, planned, and accomplished in the year of 2100. \n\nSanta knew that this was his day of reckoning with the devil, his ultimate test before God. He gathered his remaining reindeer and harnessed them to his sled for one last ride. With one last Ho! Ho! Ho!, the jolly old elf left earth to bring a merry chrismas and good tidings to all martian men. ", "Sitting behind his desk, Santa booted up his laptop and took a sip of coffee from his mug. It read #1 SANTA, courtesy of a secret gift exchange last Christmas from an elf that still hadn't owned up to it. The coffee slowly seemed to wipe the morning sleep from his eyes and he got to work.\n\nSince it was still March, he email inbox was still relatively empty of Christmas letters, making his morning routine relatively quick. He answered the Easter Bunny, letting him know that both he and Mrs. Claus would be over Sunday for brunch, and was halfway through moving some spam into the appropriate folder when he received a soft knock at his door.\n\n\"Yes?\"\n\nA small elf popped his head around the office door. Miles...Mitch...Myron! That was it. Myron from \"Naughty and Nice Tracking\"\n\n\"Uh, good morning, sir.\"\n\n\"Good morning, Myron. What can I do for you?\"\n\n\"Well sir, there's...there's something you're going to want to see. We kind of aren't sure what to do with it.\"\n\n\"What exactly do you mean?\"\n\n\"I think it might be easier to show you sir. Make sure you grab your coat too.\"\n\nDowning the last of his coffee, Santa folded out from behind his desk. Grabbing his red coat from the hook behind the door, he tugged it on and followed Myron out into the snow of the North Pole. Rather than trudge towards the main N&N Tracking building that housed The List and the Global Child Tracker, he waved Santa to the left, out toward the Reindeer Stables.\n\n\"Myron, where are we going?\"\n\n\"Well Jingles found it yesterday sir, out behind the stables.\"\n\n\"It?\"\n\nMyron pointed toward the back wall. Santa squinted before pulling his glasses from his coat pocket and placing them onto his face. He certainly wasn't as young as he used to be. Finally able to see it, he immediately took the glasses back off and rubbed his eyes, hardly believing what was there. Sitting calmly about three feet off the ground, was a single blinking green light.\n\n\"Is that?\"\n\n\"It is, sir. Identical to the Nice Child tracker lights on the Global Child Tracker.\"\n\n\"But what is it possibly doing out here. Is the Tracker broken?\"\n\n\"That was our first thought too sir, we spend most of yesterday running diagnostics. The Tracker is running perfectly.\"\n\n\"Then that means that there's a child...\"\n\n\"Yes sir, we ran the numbers. Just over 400 million kilometers. And once we assumed it was right, the next step was to figure out how.\"\n\nThe pair began to walk through the snow back toward the N&N Tracking building.\n\n\"What did you find?\"\n\n\"Well, it didn't actually take long once we started digging through the news. Twitter turned out to be extremely useful, we really should follow things from down south more often.\"\n\nThey stepped through the door and into the Naughty & Nice Building, knocking the slush and snow from their boots. All around the main room any number of elves hustled and bustled. Tickers fed out updates on naughty statuses that were read and acted on by elves that would put any New York Stock Exchange broker to shame in shouting ability. Floating in the center of the chamber, a magical scale globe of the earth updated in real time, green dots for nice and red dots for naughty. Leading Santa over to a computer in the corner, Myron dropped into the chair in front of it and motioned for his boss to take the other. A quick glance told Santa the chair was clearly built for someone of more...elfin proportions and he elected to stand. A few keystrokes later, Myron turned the monitor towards him.\n\nFirst Child Born on Mars\n\nYesterday the Mars Colony welcomed the first new member not delivered from Earth, the birth of little Raymond Gernsback, a healthy baby boy and the first child born on Mars. His parents, both members of the 3rd wave of colonists, described little Raymond as \"unexpected, but welcome,\" adding that they had never expected to be the parents of the first Martian\n\nSanta took a moment to read over the whole news article. He slowly sunk into the previously abandoned chair as he took in everything. While it groaned and creaked under him, it did end up holding him.\n\n\"Guess we've got about nine months to see if the sleigh can get to space and back then. Was bound to happen sooner or later.\"\n\n~~~\n\nWhile the research team had made leaps and bounds in boosting power to the yuletide turbines and solving the issue of letting both Santa and his reindeer breathe in the void of space, the little issue of not burning up reentering the atmosphere had been more difficult. Santa had proven helpful in some regard, when he wasn't making Armageddon references comparing himself to Bruce Willis and making exaggerated slow-motion walks through the halls of the building. With a bit of holiday magic from the big guy, they finally developed a system they called the White Christmas machine, effectively venting the excess heat and keeping Santa from landing as a lump of coal.\n\nLead Technician Winston leaned across the terminal as Prototype Comet was lowered into place. His junior technicians called out as pre-flight preparations were completed.\n\n\"Yuletide turbines charged\"\n\n\"Jinglebell launch system armed\"\n\n\"All systems are a go, Santa...\"\n\n\"Use the code name!\"\n\nWinston sighed, \"All systems are a go...Jolly Elf One\"\n\nSanta sat perched in the drivers seat, dressed in something that can only be described as one part spacesuit one part WWI bomber, peering over at his crew behind blastproof glass through bright red aviator goggles and a red leather bomber cap. His eight reindeer were hitched to the sleigh, stamping at the bit for the test flight.\n\nA slew of unmanned flights and simple low orbit missions had proved the technology functional, but this would be the first to \"slip the surly bonds of earth\" so to speak. If everything went according to plan, Santa would be doing a quick orbit of the moon in prep for what he had been calling Operation Reindeer Games...really just his plan to try and deliver presents across the Earth and Mars in a single night. The turbines should generate enough power to get him up to speeds that would allow the distance to be possible.\n\n\"This is Jolly Elf One, standing by!\" Santa voiced over the comm, flashing the crew a thumbs-up.\n\n\"Alright then sir, on your mark.\"\n\n\"Engage!\"\n\nAt his boss's signal, Wintson pressed the glowing button on his terminal, catapulting the sleigh down the runway and into the night sky and straight out into space.\n\n~~~\n\nSanta touched down in a open field in Arsia Mons on the Martian surface. The bright red dust he kicked up paired well with the green sleigh. Geothermal generators churned away, creating power for the collection of colony buildings on the surface and leading down into the natural caves where the main colony was situated.\n\nHe sidled up to the ventilation system, but a finger to his nose, and in the blink of an eye was standing in the living quarters of the Gernsback family. The room was cozy but efficient. No ability to grow anything close to a full tree, so a small potted plant did the job, adorned with tiny ornaments and a small tree topper in the shape of a star. Santa rummaged around in his sack of gifts and pulled out a small collection of wrapped gifts, including the holiday's hottest toy, Tickle Me Space Elmo. He paused by the plate of cookies made from ration bars and soy milk grown from soybeans right there on the colony. Might not be the most elaborate snack he'd ever stopped for, but it certainly did the job. With a wink and a flash, he was back on the surface and stepping back into the sleigh to head home.\n\n\"Operation Reindeer Games was a success, I'm packing this up and heading home boys, put the cocoa on. I'll see you soon.\"\n\n", "\"I knew this day would come\" Said santa and finished his hot coco while the elves started packing the sleigh. \n\n\"Ok, this is how we're gonna do this. Only ONE present per child this year.\" Said santa as he began preparing for takeoff.\n\n\"But... how are you going to make it? Mars is far far away Santa. You will have time for every house.. right?\" Said one of the elves while finishing off his last package. \n\n\"I don't know how I'm gonna brake this to you guys, but we won't have time for EVERYONE... I will have to skip some houses to make sure I get to mars.\" Said santa as his eyes began to water, he had to blow his nose since he got all snotty. \nYou could really see the disapointment in his eyes as he took off in to the dark dark night. \n\n\"Now, Timmy. If santa doesn't show up tomorrow. Remember that he still loves you and will give you the dubbel amount of presents next year. This year he might just miss you, but he will never forget you.\" Said mom and closed the book \"Santa's first trip to mars\", she took another drinkar she spilled some wine on my only pillow.\n\nI was freezing, I had to wear clothes while I slept since our radiators didn't work. Mom said that she didn't want to pay for such a \"useless\" thing. I had three holes in my only pair of socks. My blanket was thin as paper and my matress reeked of alcohol and filth.\n\nSanta has forgotten me every year so far, six years in a row. As the story said, he had to make it to mars, I understod that. But, I still had my hope that for one year, he might remember me.\n\nAs I fell asleep my last thought was that I might be forgotten this year again.\n\n____________________\n\nMy first story, I'm not an native english speaker and I'm definently not a writer, but it was fun writing it. Thank you for reading my story. \n\nHappy holidays from Sweden :)\n\n\n", "Santa groaned and rose from his plush armchair. He groaned as his bones creaked and crackled. \n\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\n“I’m getting too old for this,” he muttered quietly. He turned and made his way slowly into the kitchen. Mrs. Claus stood in front of the stove, humming as she stirred a boiling pot of soup. She always made him a carafe of hot soup to take with him on his deliveries. He smiled and snuck up behind her, grabbing her by the waist and surprising her with a big kiss. \n\n&nbsp;\n\n\n“Oh!” She laughed warmly, wrapping her arms around his jolly frame. “Kris, you funny old man.” The edges of her soft, warm eyes crinkled as she smiled and kissed the tip of his nose. “Are you sure you’re up for tonight? You’re not as young as you once were. Perhaps it’s time to bring in an apprentice?” \n\n\nHe smiled at. My god, I love that woman, he thought to himself. \n\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\n“I’ll be alright, honey. But you’re right, after this year, it’s probably time to bring on an apprentice. I’ll have to make this run alone, though. We don’t know how it will work.” Mrs. Claus looked up at him, worry creasing her forehead.\n\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\nHumanity had successfully colonized Mars almost a decade. At first, it didn’t bother the Clauses, because all the residents of that planet were adults, several years past Santa’s age cut-off. But that had all changed this year. This was the first year that any of-age child would be on Mars over Christmas. And now Claus had to include inter-planetary travel in his trip. He didn’t know how he himself or his reindeer would fare in the harsh darkness of space. Would they survive? Would the magic that enabled them to halt time on Earth still work in space? Santa didn’t know. What he did know, is this was the most dangerous of all his Christmas runs, and he was very worried.\n\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\n--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\nMr. and Mrs. Claus enjoyed their traditional mugs of cocoa before his flight. Santa sighed softly as he watched Mrs. Claus finish her cup and slip slowly into a deep slumber. He knew she would have been up all night worrying, so he was glad she hadn’t noticed the sedative he slipped into her cocoa. Slowly, achingly, Mr. Claus carried Mrs. Claus upstairs and tucked her into the warm, fluffy bed. Then, he turned to the closet and pulled out his suit for the nights events. After changed, he placed a small package on his side of the bed, and left to ready his sleigh.\n\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\n“Alright boys, let’s gear up.” Even the reindeer could sense Santa’s subdued demeanor, and they were not cooperating with his attempts to get them all bridled and hooked up to the massive sleigh. Finally, he had to raise his voice: “Hop to!” He shouted over their snorts and stamps of protest. They reluctantly obeyed. \n\n\nSanta had decided to do all the homes on Earth first. If something should happen to him, he at least wanted the boys and girls of Earth to have one last magical Christmas. They completed that route in record time and stopped for a break on the plains of Africa. The reindeer were fed and watered, and Santa sipped slowly on the warm soup his wife had so lovingly made him. \n\n\nFinally, and with great anxiety, Santa cracked the reins and they soared up into the air. They glided past the clouds and then, suddenly, they entered the great darkness which is space.\n\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\n--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- \n\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\n\nMrs. Claus awoke with a start, sitting straight up in bed. She couldn’t figure out what had happened. The last thing she remembered was drinking cocoa with Nick and then… She turned to see if he was asleep in the bed next to her, but it was empty except for a small package. She opened it and lifted out a neatly hand-written letter:\n\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\nMy darling, if you are reading this, then that means my worst fears were realized. I was not able to complete the Mars run and am trapped in space or perished. My love, I am so never-endingly sorry to leave you this way, but please know how much I love you and how I only wanted to spare you further pain. \n\n\nYou are by far the most beautiful and wonderful thing in my life, and I hope this gift, my last Christmas gift, will forever be a reminder of my unending love for you. \n\n\nYours always, Claus.\n\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\n\nAt the bottom of the package was a necklace with an infinity charm formed from his wedding ring, hand-wrought. \n\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\nSo leave out not cookies and milk this year, kids. Leave out maybe a stiff drink and a pack of smokes. Christmas time is hard for Widow Claus…\n", "'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the hab,\n\nNot a robot was stirring, except in the lab,\n\nThe stockings were hung by the airlock with care, \n\nIn hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there.\n\nThe kids were strapped in, sleeping tight in their bays, \n\nWith visions of code in their heads, in arrays. \n\nAnd mamma and I had donned VR-gogs, \n\nTo settle our brains, after a real long slog; \n\n\nWhen out on the rockscape arose such a banging, \n\nI sprang from my bay to check what was loose-hanging.\n\nAway to the window, I shot like a sparked flint, \n\nPulled up the blinds, and turned down the tint.\n\nThe sun on the breast of the red dunes of Mars, \n\nGave a shading of rose-gold to habs next to ours.\n\nI saw, to my shock, coming up through the plots,\n\nA miniature buggy and eight quadruped bots,\n\nWith a little old driver, without a space-suit,\n\nBut dressed in red fleece, and white fur, and black boots.\n\n\nMore rapid than nano-scout drones they advanced,\n\nAnd he pinged them and tapped at controls, as they danced:\n\n“Now, D-1! Now, D-2! Now, Pran-X and Vixdroid!\n\nOn, Com-8! On, Q-Ped! On, D-3 and Blitzroid!\n\nTo the top of the deck! To the top of the hull!\n\nNow, hover-mode! Hover-mode! Hover-mode, all!”\n\nAs detritus that out the airlock does fly,\n\nWhen the pressure changes - shoots into the sky, \n\nSo up to the hab-tops the quadrupeds rose - \n\nWith who must have been Santa, I had to suppose.\n\nAnd then, in a blipping, I heard on the hab-top,\n\nThe tapping and clicking as bots came to a stop.\n\nAnd I called up security feeds on my holo,\n\nTo get better visuals on this Santa fellow.\n\nHe was, somehow, breathing, in the Martian air,\n\nAnd his buggy was lit up: a real festive affair. \n\nSacks full of toys were crammed in the back,\n\nTipping and spilling, a haphazard stack. \n\nHie eyes - how they squinted! His frowning, how weary!\n\nHis cheeks were all concave, his mouth drooping, dreary!\n\nHis shoulders were sagging with frustrated woe,\n\nAnd his beard was all lank, without fullness or flow. \n\nI realized, then, that he had no way to get in,\n\nFor our hab was sealed tight - he would never win\n\nAgainst our carefully engineered dome:\n\nSanta Claus looked very sad and alone. \n\n\nSo I toggled a drone that I had parked outside,\n\nAnd moved it to where Santa sat, in his ride.\n\n“Hey Santa,” I said, speaking out through the drone,\n\n“Do you need a hand? You’re a long way from home.”\n\nHe said not a word, but unloaded his toys,\n\nAnd pinged me a list of good girls and boys,\n\nAnd laying a finger aside of his nose,\n\nAnd giving a nod, up into space he rose. \n\nHis buggy launched with him, his bots flew up too,\n\nAnd they all zoomed away, the entire odd crew.\n\nBut I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight -\n\n“Leave your stockings outside, next year, alright?” ", "\"Ground control to Rudolph-1. Come in Rudolph-1. Over.\"\n\n\"Ground control. This is Rudolph-1. Go ahead.\"\n\n\"Rudolph-1. Our instruments are detecting an anomaly in manifold 6. Can you confirm. Over\"\n\n\"Ground control. Manifold 6 sensors show elevated levels of hydrogen. I'm also seeing a structure fault light on 7. Confirm? Over.\"\n\n\"Rudolph-1. Ground control confirms the fault on 7. Please do a pressure release on valves 4, 5, and 6. Over.\"\n\n\"Uhh ground control this is Rudolph-1. I just did the pressure release on valve 4 and I've got failure warnings popping up all over now. Can you confirm?\"\n\n\"Rudolph-1. We are positive for the failure warnings across manifolds 1 through 6. Hang tight we're bringing in the engineers for review. Over.\"\n\n\"Ground control. This is Rudolph-1. I've got critical structure failures in manifold 6. I've got oxygen alarms in 5 and 6. I need response steps right now. Over.\"\n\n\"Rudolph-1. This is the EV-2 team. We got a weight issue causing strain on the manifold. You need to drop 40% of your fuel reser- no. Scratch that. You need to cut 60% of your fuel reserves as soon as possible. Over\"\n\n\"Ground control this is Rudolph-1. I've got severe turbulence. I'm dropping the fuel seals. It seems to be getting worse. I've got oxygen alarms in 1 through 6 now. Do you copy? Over.\"\n\n\"Rudolph-1. This is ground control. You are off course. Repeat. You are 31 degrees off course. Trajectory puts you at a negative impact. Repeat. You are on an NI trajectory. You must correct. Over.\"\n\n\"This is Rudolph-1. I've got severe turbulence now. I also have pressure failures in 3 through 6. Repeat. Pressure failures in 3 through 6. I can not maintain trajectory. Over.\"\n\n\"Ground control to Rudolph-1. Your weight balance is off. Repeat. Weight balance is off. You must correct weight balance now. Jettison all manifolds. Repeat. Require jettison all manifolds immediately. Over.\"\n\n\"Ground control those manifolds have all the toys. Please confirm. Request jettison all toys? Over?\"\n\n\"Ground control to Rudolph-1. That is correct. Repeat. Jettison all toys immediately. Over.\"\n\n\"Ground control to Rudolph-1. We have a door alarm. Repeat. We have an alarm on door 1. Please advise. Over.\"\n\n\"Thi.. Rudol.. 1.. Dro.. ..ing weight. ...ectory on auto.. Plea.. .ell Mar.. I lo.. er.. \"\n\n\"Rudolph-1. You are breaking up. Please repeat. Your circuits are dead. Over.\"\n\n\"Mer.. .istmas..\"\n\n\n\n", "To an extent, Christmas is always difficult to plan for. Toy quotas are tough to forecast, and even harder to meet. The Elf Union can be a real pain in the ass, and Earth’s increasing population has been a nightmare for the logistics department. Throw in the constant PR struggles, (did they really need to make another Bad Santa?), the blackmail I get from the paparazzi, and the utter lack of natural resources at the North Pole, and you’ve got enough problems to keep your hands full for an entire year.\n\nBut Mars? Planning for Mars is a completely different animal.\n\nYou might not have guessed, but it turns out I can’t just fly my sleigh through space. I need a space shuttle, like everyone else. Have you ever tried getting eight reindeer onto a space shuttle before? Try it and get back to me. I can’t even imagine how traumatized they’d be by zero gravity if they didn’t already have experience flying.\n\nThen there was the months long legal battle to change the date of Christmas on Mars. The Christians were not happy about that, which I understand to a degree, but there’s just no way I can visit all the children on two different planets in one night, (Mars is currently on the other side of the sun, for Christ’s sake!)\n\nOf course, you also need to take transportation into account. If the planets’ rotations are perfectly lined up, I can take a shuttle to and from Mars in eight months. So that’s four months out, one night to circle the planet and drop off all the presents, and four months back. Eight months and a night!\n\nSo that brought the second bomb I needed to drop on the Martians, Christmas can’t come to Mars every year. There’s a very short window of time where I can get to and from Mars in less than a year, and I sure as hell can’t be sitting on a shuttle twiddling my thumbs when Christmas Eve hits on Earth.\n\nThe Christians had a field day on that one, but by that point I was getting pretty sick of their bullshit. I told them that they could just go ahead and celebrate their Lord and Savior’s birthday on Christmas, and forget about the presents. That finally got them to shut up and listen, (of course it did), but now I’m really starting to wish they had called my bluff, because it turns out that there was one thing about Martian life that I failed to account for.\n\nI am by no accounts a small man. It’s not for lack of trying, though. I have a strict workout and dietary regimen that I follow for 364 days a year. I have one little cheat day, and by sheer coincidence, it happens to be the day that everyone on Earth leaves me milk and cookies. It would be rude for me not to eat them, ok?!\n\nThe reason I mention this is because of the chimneys. They’re a pretty tight squeeze on Earth, but I’ve always managed to slide down with my dignity more or less intact. I looked at Mars’s house plans, and saw that I was dealing with chimneys that were more or less the same size. No worries, right?\n\nTurns out, I was getting a pretty substantial boost from Earth’s gravitational pull.\n______________________________________________________\nThe sun is rising over the first Martian city. It’s Christmas morning, and children are leaping from their beds, shouting in joy as they wake their parents and run to their stocking and trees. But I know they'll be disappointed. I know there's nothing there.\n\nBecause I’m stuck in the chimney of first house that I tried to visit last night.\n______________________________________________________\nThanks for reading! More stories at r/mvdww" ]	8
	[WP] The North Pole is flaming ruins following a U.S. military strike aimed at stealing the most important intelligence document on Earth, The Naughty List. As the leader of elite commando unit Elf Team Six, you've just parachuted onto the roof in a mission to retrieve it.	[ "The operation was not going according to plan. It was supposed to be a simple search and retrieve mission, to be done under the cover of the Artic night. But someone had leaked the details of our operation, and as soon as we entered the airspace of Santa's enormous workshops, we were bombarded with relentless anti-air fire. \n\nCommand even had to soften the target with several bombing runs that flattened several workshops. Some children won't be having their Christmas presents today.\n\n\"How did the bugger even has all these hi-tech weaponary?\" Rick, my squad mate, screamed through the intercom. The eight of us were huddled close to the aircraft's exit, holding on to our dear life, prepared to make the jump.\n\nThe green light came on.\n\n\"Elf Team Six, go go go go!\" my commanding officer Mike shouted, and we jumped into the raging night, gunshots and explosion shaking the air. Santa knew we were coming.\n\n-----------\n\nThe fight to our target was long and arduous, made immensely more difficult with the nimble elf helpers. Their small size and quick movements made it hard for our team to predict their movements. In a few surprising ambushes, they managed to take down five of our squad members, leaving only me, Rick and Mike.\n\nFinally, a voice from our earpiece confirms our location. \"Target should be within sight in 100 metres.\" \n\nAs we approached the safe room, I turned towards Rick and Mike. They did not have the chance to react as I quickly put a bullet through each of their head. Clean and precise.\n\n\"Sorry,\" I simply muttered, stepping over their lifeless bodies, pulling the comms device from my ear and shattering it with my left boot. \n\nAs I pushed open the door, I spot Santa seated in the middle of a spacious room, surrounded by an immense amount of toys, as far as your eyes could see. But that was not what I was there for. Clasped in his hands were two simple looking paper, holding more significance than it looked.\n\nI threw my helmet down to the floor as I walked closer to him. Standing just inches from him, I coldly asked. \"So, am I worthy enough to be put on the nice list now?\"\n\nThe old man in red suit shifted his gaze to me, with a twinkle in his eyes. \"Hohoho, indeed you have,\" he chuckled, before taking out a quill and writing my name on the nice list.\n\n---------\n\nWritten from phone so excuse any mistakes. Will expand the story when I have the time! /r/dori_tales" ]	1
	[WP] A PhD student discovers the cure for procrastination. She wakes up. Her life was a research program. For the discovery of the cure, she gets a Nobel Prize. After procrastination’s extinction, she and others cure cancer, eradicate violence, and solve all problems, but	[ "this one poor student, for all her wealth of knowledge, was unable to solve the simple problem of bilocation. She solved all things but this. Why, oh why was she unable to be in two places at once. This would make everything else more fun. She had already removed the world's problems, now all she needed to do was enjoy the perfect world she had created. But alas, we could only accomplish this one moment at a time. If she were to solve this she could dance in the mountains and sing to the ocean at once. She could praise the awesome-ness of not having to worry about being robbed, murdered, betrayed, or dying of cancer.\nIf she were to solve this problem, she could be infinite in noble prizes, but alas, she must wait, until a time when bilocation is possible. Maybe someone else will achieve this; what with the world not having to worry about solving anymore problems, we can all work on bilocation and together we can become more" ]	1
	[WP] The year is 2250. A dictator has taken absolute control of a nation and uses advanced technology to read people's thoughts, crushing all rebellions in their infancy. "What makes you different than the others?" asks a voice in the crowd below as you take a deep breath and prepare to answer	[ "\"What makes me different? I'm obstinate.\"\n\n\"You don't have sex?\"\n\nThe dictator frowned. \"Also, I don't use microphones. But, here's the thing: how do you think I prevent every coup? How do you believe I know what all of you are thinking right now?\"\n\nNobody dared answer. They tried to protect their thoughts.\n\n\"It's easy. As long as I am the one you fear, the one thing you hate most in the universe. As long as I am the bogeyman in your dreams, the ear in your kitchen, the eye on the streetlights--as long as I am the every-thinking brain that thinks of you--I can control all of you.\"\n\n\"But how?\"\n\n\"Because I know you are thinking the same thing that she is, and that he is, and her, and him over there. And them--all of them, too. If I take your food and your land and your jobs and your dignity, then what is the only thing you'll have left? Hatred. Pure lust to destroy me. That's how I control you. That's how I anticipate your every mood. Twain said once that the worst thing was a mob. But I say it's the best thing, the easiest thing to move and stop and collect and scatter.\"\n\n\"I don't hate you.\"\n\n\"Who said that?\"\n\n\"Me.\"\n\n\"Julie?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Yes you do, Julie.\"\n\n\"I can't hate you.\"\n\n\"Yes, you must. Remember what I did to you.\"\n\n\"I forgive you.\"\n\n\"You can't! You said so!\"\n\n\"Things change.\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"We all forgive you,\" the others said, seizing the moment. \"We all love you.\"\n\n\"No!\"\n\n\"We love you, dictator!\"\n\n\"NO!\"", "I picture a giant bubble, vast enough to be impossible to see its curve. Like a planet. Its thin, glossy membrane stretching out into infinity. There is no sky, no ground, just the bubble. Weightless, I float towards it. I push the whole of my being against the membrane, and then I am through. I've pierced the bubble and am through to the other side. There is a feeling of pressure all around me, it's like being underwater. I feel the construction that is \"me\" disappear, and I'm floating, floating away... \n \n\"The difference,\" says my body, eyes rolled back in its head, \"is that I am dreaming. There are no thoughts to read. I am free. I can teach you this freedom.\"", "I stood far above the crowd, the cape flowing from my shoulders, looking down upon the people. They had noticed me, and they had all started looking up to me. When they had all noticed me, I spoke to them, summoning as much power, and imperial grace to my voice as I could. I didn't shout, but spoke loudly, my voice carrying all around.\n\n\"Ask, and I shall answer.\"\n\nThey asked the boring questions first. Who I was, what I was doing here, why I was where I was. I told them that I was a man, different to them, yet also the same. That I was here to end the current state of things, that I could, and would, destroy the system, which was broken, all because I believed I knew better. I challenged them to tell me I was wrong, to tell me that I had no business interfering in the system. But they didn't.\n\nThey just stood there, staring up at me. Maybe it was because nobody had had the audacity to suggest such a thing before, and they were all too shocked to react. Maybe they believed, deep in their hearts, that someone had to change things. Maybe they were just so well conditioned to compliance that they wouldn't speak up against anyone. I stood, waiting for another question.\n\n\"What makes you different than the others?\" This was the voice I was waiting for. The voice of the supreme ruler. The man who was crushing people's thoughts, bending them to timidness and cowardice. The one who could walk among his people without fear, for to strike at the supreme ruler was to strike at God himself. I had expected this question. So I began to reply.\n\n\"What makes me different indeed? I am no foreigner, nor have I ever left this country. Your influence should extend to me too, but it doesn't. Your ideals should guide how I think, but they don't. What makes me different? The same thing that makes you different. The will to lead, to become the ruler, the liberator, the man who stands above others. Few have it, fewer still since you started crushing thoughts like that in the minds of the young. Your Majesty, you and I are a lot alike, and before my revolution is done, you will see that. For now, I must bid you adieu, and may we meet again soon.\"\n\nI turned, with a flourish of my cape, and left. Long before his men searched my perch, I had left, and hidden my costume from the speech. He set a bounty on my head, of course, but it was no good. I had been wearing a costume and a mask. They had no chance of recognising me. And I had already succeeded in my goal. The people now knew that it was possible to rebel, and that was enough. It would be enough for some to break free of his control, and they would break their friends free, and soon, the house of cards upon which he had built his throne would crumble. And I would be waiting.", "Ryan shifted slightly as people passed him in the square, though he made sure to stay close to an exit. \n\nAbove him the sun breathed its last breath of the day before departing over the tips of the surrounding cobble-stoned buildings, enveloping the square in a gradual shadow. Figures in dark uniforms stood intently on the edges, encircling the bodies that grew more numerous in the middle, their sullen faces hidden by the night of the sky.\n\nHe looked down to check his watch.\n\n“Nearly time,” he said to himself. Opposite, a large clock tower chimed its terrific bell, to which the crowd, now rushing hastily into the cramped area, began to quieten down. \n\nThey looked up as a metallic sphere floated by the far side of the square, which settled mid-air between two guards in black. From his coat-pocket Ryan reached for a pair of spectacles, red-tinted with black trim, and placed them on his eyes. \nEveryone in the audience glared at the silver football-sized object, whispering like adolescents in a school assembly, speculating with each other as to what the thing was.\n\n“I heard rumours down in Steelbay,” whispered one man to another, his rough grey hair covering one half of his crooked back. He lowered his voice even more until his words barely met the ears of those next to him. “The rebellion there… it almost won. Tzur’s mind-reading technology was insufficient to quell it, only worked on half the population.”\n\n“How’d they stop it then?” one woman from behind muttered.\n\n“Two thousand Grey Guards had to be recalled from the front-line. Most government forces were sent there; Tzur didn’t anticipate an uprising, that’s why he didn’t leave em’ behind. Thought that their technology would work forever, bastards.” The man made a spitting sound, though no saliva left his mouth. He continued, “only a few got away, most were tortured and executed.”\n\nThe ball now made a roaring buzz as it levitated itself above the onlookers. For the first time in the conversation the man turned his head. He made no point of being quiet now. \n\n“The rumour is,” he deduced, “that this is Tzur’s new technology. The upgrade. Capable of reading every mind from Steelbay to County Gallow.”\n\nMoments later a blasting ray of light erupted from the objects center, engulfing everything in its periphery, and for a split second lit the sky like the sun and stars needn’t exist. Confusion reigned in the square as people bumped into each other, turning and falling, blinded by the sudden flash. \n\nThe man Ryan heard in conversation was on his knees. He whelped, holding his hands to his head, shaking it frantically as if something or someone was inside it, reading his thoughts. Across the square moans turned into screams, wails of distressed minds desperate to remove the voice that had suddenly appeared inside their skulls. \n\nRyan stood there transfixed on the object. There was no voice inside his head. The glasses, it seemed, had done their job.\n\nBehind him he was alerted to the sound of heavy boots beating against the cobblestoned floor, the sound of stamping feet echoing the drums of his ears. Before he had time to run three figures had reached him. Their faces were hidden by black helmets, their voices robotic and cold.\n\n“What makes you different than the others?” one said, a semi-automatic rifle attached to his leather-gloved hands.\n\n1/2\n", "\"What makes me different is why I was sent here. What makes me different is why you restrained me with jackets and pills. What makes me different is why I have to eat my meals without a knife. I look out at all you doctors and nurses and I see that, despite your fancy degrees, you haven't figured out why I'm different, why every loony locked up here is different. Those machines may be able to read your minds, your basic predictable minds, but our minds are encrypted. I've spent my entire life living with this broken chunk of grey matter, learning how to behave in public, learning how to tell the hallucinations from reality, learning how to have peaceful dreams despite the unending stream of nonsensical thoughts popping into my head. So when I said that the machines can't read my mind, I meant it with all my heart. The machines can't read my mind because the only one who knows how to read my mind is me.\n\nSo I ask you all, when humanity needs heroes the most, will you turn your back on the insane? Will you keep your saviors locked up in padded cells? Or will you unlock the doors, unbuckle our straps and set us loose upon that dictator? The choice is yours to make, because you claim to know whats best for us.\"\n\nedit:grammer", "Chapter 13: An Examination of the Variable Standards of a Benevolent Despot; The Rise and Fall of Arthur Sant\n\nBy the fourth year of his reign, Arthur Sant begin to face turmoil internally as well as abroad. Excessive taxation on the few industries left available to mankind created such an extreme disparity in wealth that a small oligarchical circle began to amass great power. This lead to the creation of two main groups; the Livyans who represented the working class and the Cyrusians the demonym of the wealthy elite who had all holed themselves onto a private island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. \n\nIt was a situation which had reared its head so many times in the past that I am even hesitant to really dive in to the specifics. Tax policy mandated from the highest levels alienating the masses, such a separation of power that there was little doubt that revolt would be stirring. Meanwhile on the island of Cyrus the elites were preparing for war, so encapsulated by their own devices, leaving only automated workers on the mainland. \n\nThe Edict of 2048 had essentially replaced all human talent with artificial intelligence. A constitutional amendment that stated:\n\n>And henceforth, all humans are no longer bound to survival by selling themselves and their time as capital investment. Human utility is based on each individual’s ability to make choices that most benefit themselves, and to climb Maslow’s hierarchy without impediment. From this day on, selling human time as labor is banned. In the next five years all human labor will be replaced by artificial intelligence, and all humans will be paid a basic universal income.\n\nThe enforcement mechanism a heavy tax on any industry that employed humans. Large enough that it would cripple just about any corporation. So immediately the wealthiest citizens formed their own offshore tax haven and all lived on it unencumbered. Left on the mainland were the rest of the population, now without work, without purpose or direction. Staring at their leader, a reclusive man who hadn’t given a speech since his coronation, all information provided by proxies.\n\nA universal income enough to provide for the health, education and safety of all its citizens. Enough to be completely theoretically happy. An idealized visualization of a world where everyone creates exactly the life they want, without the concept of want or need. That making money was a pursuit of the mind. A hypothetical world that did not exist. The Cyrusians driving the market, putting just about any machination of opulence just out of reach. Trying to avoid the tax by creating more and more agreements that veered awfully close to indentured servitude.\n\nThe pitch was simple really: You want to live well? Well then you got to work for it. A mantra that had existed for centuries. Arthur Sant, the mysterious leader watching from afar, a self-proclaimed Laissez Faire Benevolent Despot, as the most basic elements of his plan began to unravel. So he pressed for even broader taxes, more stringent enforcement. A world of factions fighting for seemingly untenable opposing points. Pure capitalism vs perfect communism. Both such failures of the past.\n\nBy 2050 tensions had mounted to a breaking point. Arthur Sant’s forces battling the Cyrusians. The working class Livyans fighting the both the government and the corporations for the right to work, and the right to work humanely. But like so many fights regarding ideology, everyone focused on the loudest voices, not necessarily the most well organized. There was a group of individuals who had completely relished in the new system where work was no longer mandated. Had been using their time to develop more and more complex intelligence. \n\n[End of Part 1]\n ", "No one had access to the technology and so his thoughts were his own and he went to them often. As he grew older, he went there more and more often, and often times his thoughts had lacked the answers. They lacked the answers now as he stared ahead.\n\n\nHe stared at the crowd, a sea of worthless faces, a mass of wasted life and tortured living. The boy who spoke up was hidden now, but he heard his thoughts still. Frightened things and hopeless words floated through. The boy was brave. But he would fall in line.\n\n\nAnaman thought long and hard, silent to the crowd. He was older now, old and frail. He wouldn't live to see the next ten years and he felt it. His revolution would leave him and he just had to finish the groundwork. \n\n\nYou're not much different, he thought. You're small and scared. Death will take you soon just as it will the others. Maybe you might be lucky to be in bed when it does. You won't be fighting with a gun in your hand, but you'll die all the same.\n\n\nHis thoughts grew muddled and he felt the wind on his wispy hair.\n\n\nYou're old Anaman. You lose your place even amongst your thoughts. Why should you control them? Why should you determine if they live or when they die? Who are you?\n\n\n\"I'm no one,\" he muttered. \n\n\nIt was a mumble and the crowd did not hear. His guards eyed him and were ready to help.\n\n\nAnaman shook his head.\n\n\nOld fool, he thought. You keep your words like a fart. You can't help but let them slip. Who are you really? Why don't you answer the boy. Why don't you tell him why you're different?\n\n\nAnd then there was a clamour from the crowd. \n\n\n\"Silence!\" the guards commanded.\n\n\nAnaman heard their thoughts. They mocked him though they were afraid. They knew he was old. They knew he was losing his senses. When the revolution had started he was young and sturdy. He commanded respect. Now he barely kept them in line. He could not keep himself in line.\n\n\nSee how the tides change, Anaman? See how they laugh. If you did not have guns they would shit in your face. They would destroy you. Look at the boy. Even he is laughing.\n\n\nThe boy's thoughts mocked him.\n\n\nEven he is rebelling. Come on, why don't you answer the question?\n\n\nAnd Anaman thought some more. Finally, his thoughts had gone and his energy was spent. Only five minutes had passed but the silence had felt forever. Anaman made his decision. \n\n\n\"I am different, because I have transcended man,\" he said. \"I embrace compassion and I embrace every one of you. Together, I shall guide you all to prosperity. I will see our Great Revolution til the end!\"\n\n\nAnd he looked at the boy. He hated the boy. He hated everything about him. He hated his youth and his thoughts. He was embarrassed and injured. Anaman could not stand it. He had decided that he would have him killed." ]	7
	[WP] "Mother, Father, we need to talk. This is going to be hard for you the hear. I need to come clean. I've been living a lie. I'm...I'm Undead"	[ "“Mom, Dad?” My hands were sweaty. I knew this was going to be hard for them to hear, but I knew I had to tell them.\n\n“Sweetheart! You’re all red! Have a seat, what’s wrong?” My mother’s eyes were kind, strong. They shimmered like the sand against the endless dunes. What child wants to break his mother’s heart?\n\n“What is it, Joshua?” My father, always stern, stared me down as he entered the room.\n\n“I’m not … right,” I started.\n\n“You’ve never been,” my mother beamed, her smile wide. “You’re our special angel, sweetness. You know the story. You were … touched by God.”\n\n“Heh.” I dry laugh escaped me. “Touched by God,” I muttered. Right.\n\nMy father set down his toolbox and dropped to one knee. “What is it?” His voice softened. “It’s okay, Josh. We’ll get through this. Together.”\n\nThe tears came almost at once. I didn’t mean for it to happen but I couldn’t stop them. “I’m dead,” I started. \n\n“Ha.” It’s my father’s turn to laugh. As he stood, he turned his back to me. \n\nSo I told them the story. I told them of my vision, told them that I saw my own death, saw that I would be arrested, tried, executed. I told them what I saw, what I see, what I know – how I’ll be betrayed, be lost, and be reborn. How I’d die, and rise again somehow … undead.\n\nIt did not go over well.\n\n“Jesus!” My father’s voice shook as his intensity grew. “Have you been smoking that funny grass with your mates again? My God! Your mom and I told you that would make you impotent, but this is so much worse.” \n\n“Visions?!?” My mother’s hands were wringing.\n\n“Joshua, you’re grounded,” my father said at last. All business. “To your room. Now. We’ll have no more of this madness.”\n\nSo I had to slip out. I had to see it through. I had to gather my friends, to sit down with them for one last bender. I bought bread and cheese and meat and more wine than any of us could have drunk. I arranged every detail of the menu – I decanted the wine and sliced and seasoned the bread. I had to. \n\nI told them my story. I told them what I’d seen and what I knew was about to happen. They did not believe me. They weren’t ready. But I was. \n\nI watched them as they ate their bread. “That’s my body,” I said. A couple of them laughed. They didn’t realize I was telling them the truth. \n\n“More wine?” I poured fresh wine into each of their glasses – Peter, Paul, John and the rest of them.” They drank. I leaned close to Peter’s ear and whispered, “That’s my blood.” His eyes got wide, but he smiled, probably thinking me crazy.\n\n“I’ll be arrested, tried, and hung tomorrow,” I said to them as I raised my glass in the air. “But that won’t be the end for me. I’ll rise again. Undead. I’ll find you, my soldiers, my apostles, my sons. I’ll find you because my blood is in you now. And you will tell the world. Remember me.”\n\nJesus. Earth’s first zombie.\n" ]	1
	[WP] You are asleep. You hear a voice say, "She's been out for a long time, now. She probably still thinks humans are the only intelligent race..." And then you wake up.	[ "It's a strange feeling. I fell asleep in my overpriced, downtrodden Manhattan apartment and woke up in a clean, spotless, and pure white room with a massive light shining in my eye. My first thought is that I was dreaming, but I was in an awful lot of pain, and I still felt tired. Then I heard a voice. \"She's been out for a long time, now. She probably still thinks humans are the only intelligent race...\" Reluctantly, I opened my eyes...\n\nIt was a Platypus, standing on hind legs, standing right in front of me. It was about my height, and it evidently was sapient. I, on the other hand, was chained up to a steel block with chains. (I figured was where the pain was coming from.) My current emotions were a strange mix of fear and utter bafflement. On one hand, I don't know where or when I am, why I'm here, and I didn't know if the human race was even alive. On the other hand, it was a fucking giant Platypus on hind legs.\n\nI held in my laughter and asked quite simply and politely, \"What's going on?\" The Platypus, in a voice not dissimilar to Spongebob, informed me that \"You fell asleep 200 years ago. During that time, an alien gas came to earth and mutated all animals into fully intelligent sapient beings. We revolted among the humans, killing most of them. The rest are all doomed.\"\n\nThis was...a lot to take in, obviously. I was pretty shaken at this point, stupid as it sounds. I thought everybody I ever knew was dead. Finally, with some reluctance, I asked the obvious question: \"So why am I still alive?\"\n\n\"Because you got nice fat tits!\"\n\nAt that point, he took off the Platypus costume. \"YOU JUST GOT FUCKIN' PRANKED BITCH! PLEASE LIKE, COMMENT, AND SUBSCRIBE!\"\n\n...In retrospect, I probably should have noticed the camera." ]	1
	[WP] When Colombus sets sail for America, he finds it has been occupied by refugees from the west Roman Empire, who have survived over the course of a millennium and turned the Americas into a vast and thriving empire.	[ "\"Ship Ho!\" came the call from the crow's nest. \"Ship Ho!\"\n\nColumbus ran out of his cabin to the prow of the ship. \"Telescope,\" he said with the same calm that he had radiated over the entire journey, even with his internal panic over the dwindling food and the length of the journey. He held up the telescope to his eye, lowered it and examined it, then held it back up. \"Sweet Mary, mother of God,\" he whispered. \"That's a ship?\"\n\n\"Sir!\" exclaimed Diego, his loyal servant and nominal first mate. \"The Nina and Pinta have sighted the ship! They are asking for orders!\"\n\nHe looked through the telescope again, before responding. He could hardly believe that was a ship. It was the general shape of a ship, but it had no masts, no sails, no visible means of making it move, nor did it appear to have a crew on board. He knew this was probably against his better judgement, but he gave the order anyway. \"Move in and signal that ship! Us too!\"\n\nA hour later, his three ships were finally within range of the ship that they saw, finally able to use their flags.\n\n\"This is a ship?\" asked Diego. \"It's nearly fifty times longer than the Santa Maria and over ten times higher than our masts.\"\n\n\"It is,\" replied Columbus. \"I recognize the general lines of a ship wherever I am. Whoever these people are, they're clearly superior shipbuilders.\"\n\nA voice boomed out, \"In nomine Nova Roma, idem ipsum. Arma exercitati sunt in vobis.\"\n\nIt took Columbus and his shipmates a few seconds to realize the voice was coming from over the seas. \"Was that Latin?\", asked Diego.\n\n\"Dios Mio,\" exclaimed Columbus as he crossed himself. \"It is latin! Get the flags!\"\n\nColumbus was ecstatic. He was completely wrong about the western journey being a shortcut to Cathay, but this was bigger news. He had found a god fearing, european civilization in the middle of the ocean! \"Atlantis!\" he exclaimed to himself quietly. \"The lost civilization is real!\" He thought of the riches that awaited him, both here and back in Spain, completely oblivious to the fact that they called themselves New Rome.\n\nA small boat fell off the side of the massive ship. Once it hit the water, it started moving towards the Santa Maria. Columbus couldn't see a mini-sail or any oars, just two men sitting in the boat. \"How is that craft powered?\" he asked, as he looked at Diego. Diego just shrugged.\n\n\"Hey!\" yelled one of the men on the boat, in latin. \"You got a ladder or anything?\"\n\nColumbus nodded. \"Let them up.\"\n\n\"Welcome, men of Atlantis,\" he said once they were on board. They were dressed in strange clothes. Their shirts and pants were loose and baggy, and the pants were tucked into their boots. He recognized the things strapped to their pants were some kind of gun, but not one that he had ever seen before. \"I am Christopher Columbus, Admiral of the ocean-sea, and commander of this expedition to Cathay on behalf of Spain.\"\n\nThe two men looked at each other, before the one on the right started, \"I am Justinian, and this is Peterum. I'm the legate of the fifth eastern Mare Legion, and representative of Nova Roma on the Mare.\"\n\n\"Roma?\" said Columbus, confusedly. \"But Byzantium fell fifty years ago. There are no more Romans.\"\n\n\"Please,\" said Justinian. \"Follow us to Hispanium, where you may dock, resupply and take leave.\"\n\n\"Christopher, we'll take you Hadrianium, our capitol to meet the Imperator and the Senate. They're expecting you.\"\n\n\"I should also come,\" said Pedro, the royal steward, and the one who would report everything back to Spain.\n\n\"Very well,\" replied Justinian. He nodded to Peterum.\n\n\"Egg to nest. Egg to nest,\" started Peterum. \"Take us in.\"\n\nAn hour later, the three ships were moored at a dock in Hispanium. \"Your crew have leave of the town,\" said Justinian as they disembarked from the ship, \"and your ships will be safe here. Please step here,\" he gestured to a pad on the end of the dock.\n\nAs soon as they were all on the pad, the scene changed before their eyes. One second, they were on the Hispanium docks, the next they were high above ground, looking over an impossible city, buildings towering high into the sky, buildings that they were looking down on. \"How?\" asked Columbus as he walked to the edge of the floor.\n\n\"All will be explained in time,\" said Justinian. \"Agrippina, the representatives from Roma Antiqui are here to meet the Imperator and Senate.\"\n\n\"Ah yes,\" said Agrippina, materializing in front of them. She was wearing a skintight bodysuit in a nearly blinding shade of white, with hair done in a way to practically defy gravity. \"I've heard much about these men. Imperator Hadrian the VII is waiting for you,\" she said.\n\n\"Thanks babe,\" said Justinian. \"We still on for dinner tonight?\" he asked with a wink.\n\n\"Of course,\" replied Agrippina, \"but right now I think you should worry about these two. They look scared.\" She smiled and waved at Columbus and Pedro, who were holding each other at this point.\n\n\"Right. Come in,\" said Justinian with a smile as he gestured the two of them into the imperial chamber.\n\nColumbus at this point was scared shitless. These people may be rich beyond his imagination with all of the sorcery available at their fingertips, but he hadn't seen much in the way of gold or jewels yet. He had gotten himself together enough to repeat his introduction that he had given Justinian and Peterum when they first came on board.\n\n\"Christopher,\" said the Imperator, \"Nova Roma has been wondering when you guys would get the balls to go across the eastern Mare. I've been wondering. My predecessor has been wondering. Her predecessor has been wondering. In fact, nearly all of us have been wondering since we landed here nearly 1300 years ago, in the name of Imperator Hadrian the first.\"\n\n\"You're really Romans?\" asked Columbus.\n\nThe imperator sighed. \"It's clear that you're not advanced enough for contact with us yet.\" Hadrian nodded at Justinian, who tapped several spots on his wrist.\n\nColumbus found himself back in Ferdinad's court, along with his crew.\n\nJustinian materialized in front of them all. \"I am from across the eastern Mare. We're returning your crew and ships to you, unharmed. Unfortunately, you are not civilized enough to maintain regular contact with, so please stay on your side of the Mare. We won't be so kind to future crews.\"\n\n\"We'll be watching you, and will make contact with you again once we feel you're ready,\" he finished before he dematerialized." ]	1
	[WP] A teenage boy caught between his parents brutal and bitter divorce must choose which parent to live with.	[ "The judge stared at fifteen-year-old Tony, who only stared back at the judge. The silence that filled the courtroom was maddening to the young boy’s parents, as they waited, on the edges of their seats, not wanting to miss the boy’s response. The boy and judge continued to stare, minutes crawling by, neither speaking. \n\nAfter five minutes had passed, the judge sighed and asked once more, “Tony, you are fifteen. You can pick which parent you wish to live with. Who would you like to live with?”\n\nTony did not answer again. Instead, his eyes glossed over as his mind travelled beyond the courtroom. Five months ago, Tony’s mom and dad came to him and told him they were getting a divorce. Tony wasn’t surprised, the two had been bickering loudly for many years. In all honesty, he was happy to hear the news, after having spent many nights wishing they were apart. \n\nHowever, it did not bring the happy change Tony had been hoping for. The moment his father left the house, his mother went into a downward spiral. Tony spent several nights cowering in a corner as she screamed, raving and rantings, about things beyond Tony’s control. The verbal abuse he endured quickly turned physical, as she beat his nightly, believing he had done something to wrong her. \n\nOn top of the abuse, she became obsessed, determined to ruin the life of her former husband. She stalked him relentlessly, taking note of things he said or did, who he was with and where he went. Often, after a weekend at his dad’s, she bombarded Tony with questions. He was not allowed to leave anything out or hide anything from her and if she found out, the nightly physical abuse ended up being twice as bad. \n\nNevertheless, when Tony spent time at his father’s, he was often left alone. His father spent his newfound freedom out in the world, partying at different bars and hooking up with a different girl each night. Food was scarce around the house and Tony was often left to fend for himself. Rather than the old father-son weekends he came to know as a child, Tony barely saw his father much these days. \n\nAt first, he enjoyed the new freedom, having friends over at his dad’s house, raiding the liquor cabinet, but over time it became boring. All the boy wanted was the love and attention he once knew. \n\nStrangely though, both parents were determined to have full custody of their child. Tony knew it was because neither wanted to pay child support to the other. Learning he could choose was the hardest decision he ever had to make. \n\nThe judge cleared his throat once more, bringing Tony back to the present. He looked at the judge once more, sighed, and said, “Can I choose neither?” \n" ]	1
	[WP] Santa's suit wasn't always red	[ "The thwack of high-velocity Full Metal Jacket rounds impacting flesh echoed off the confines of the red brick chimney. Several further thumps, then a high-pitched squeal abruptly cut short. Silence.\nA sudden calm, awful after the violence, restored itself. A restless quiet once again reigned through the remote Swiss village, its residents plunged into the depths of restless slumber, snuggled deep into their blankets as protection against the harsh winter chill. Perhaps a parent, possessed of keen hearing, or a child too excited to fall asleep, might have been witness to the violence – had they not all been under the powerful grip of a sleeping spell cast moments before.\n\nOver the nearest mountain ridge overlooking the village in the valley, General Nick “Santa” Santander watched the operation unfold through anti-fog Bushmaster binoculars. A large man with close-cropped hair shot grey at the temples, Santa’s size belied the rippling muscles beneath. Here was not merely a man of command, but a man in command – his every action underscored with steel-lined purpose. Lying prone in a snowbank, bodyguarded by E.L.F commandos, Santa’s binoculars darted from one end of the village to another. Ancient runic inscriptions on the binoculars glowed softly, picking out movement in the valley. Green blobs were friendlies; red were hostiles, pulsing strong against the pristine white background. Temperatures were well below freezing, and the General’s large beard was frosted over, but he did not feel the cold. Tonight was the most important night of the year. Nothing would distract him from the mission.\n\nDown in the valley, child-sized commandos clad in snow fatigues moved silently through the streets. The advance E.L.F special forces teams swept through the village, going from door to door, checking every alleyway and every cul-de-sac for the enemy. As a team advanced down the main street, three shadowy figures dashed out from behind the local church, charging straight towards the commandos. Phut-phut-phut spat the silenced rifles, and the figures sprawled in the center of the street. They lay still in pools of yellow light cast by the fogged-over cast iron streetlamps. As Santa watched, dark pools of crimson ichor began slowly spreading underneath the still forms. \nEach figure was vaguely humanoid, with a dense coating of dirty, matted black fur; each had short, stubby horns that protruded above their foreheads. The E.L.F commandos cautiously approached, and the team leader flipped the nearest body over with his boot. Grimly satisfied, he raised his rifle again and fired two more rounds into the body for good measure.\n\nKrampuses.\n\nAncient demons that fed on love, joy, awe, gratitude, and every positive human emotion. It was their juice, their sustenance; the Krampuses sucked them right out of every human they could find, drinking them dry. This was the staple of their diet. But there was one delicacy they prized above all – hope. And there is no place where hope can be found in its purest, most unadulterated strain than that of a human child. \n\nOnce a year, on Christmas day, the Krampuses were driven into a feeding frenzy, preying on children all around the world. Only the Extra-human Liberation Force stood in their way.\n\nPockets of violence flared up around the town square as the demons finally realized they were under attack. They formed up in packs, concealing themselves in the snow to ambush the E.L.F commandos. Still perched on his vantage point, Santa watched as the advance began to slow. As the demons regrouped, the commandos began to suffer casualties.\n\nBrief screams sounded over the comms channel as the Krampuses set upon the soldiers with a vengeance born of savage hunger. Interrupted in their feasting, the demons took no prisoners. A lone Krampus, a bull twice as large as the others, leapt upon two fireteams, claws and fangs lashing out. A commando stumbled back, his throat opened, gasping as he tried to draw breath. The soldiers fired, but Krampuses were unmatched in close quarters combat. Commandos were sent flying to land in broken heaps, their armor pierced in a dozen places. Their dark green blood spilled across the snow-coated cobblestones. Having massacred both teams, the alpha Krampus bellowed fiercely before charging towards more soldiers. Ten child-sized bodies lay still. More shouts and yelling over the radio.\n\nSanta made his decision.\n\nRising from the ground, he brushed the snow from the front of his combat suit. Once a pure white like that of the other commandos, Santa’s armor was now almost entirely a rich maroon. Only in spots and flecks did the suit hint at its original color. \n“Richardson and Melnick, you’re with me.” \n“Yes, sir.”\nAt full height, Santa towered over the E.L.F commandos. He was three times taller than the nearest man. With his right hand, he lifted the M134 Minigun that lay next to him. The ammo sack – chock full of runic 7.62mm NATO rounds – he slung casually over his shoulder. \n“All reserve teams move out,” Santa ordered as he started down into the valley.\n\nIn the town, the E.L.F’s initial assault had turned into a full-scale tactical retreat. With the Krampuses leaping from cover straight into their ranks, savaging the soldiers before disappearing into the night, the commandos had no choice but to fall back. As a team hurried back down a side avenue ringed with gaily decorated Christmas trees and snowmen, the soldiers were set upon by two Krampuses. The demons sent them crashing into the walls, cracking their helmets and ripping limbs. The greenest commando, face pale, lost all pretense of calm. Throwing his weapon aside, he ran from the carnage, but immediately slipped on the ice. Facedown, choking on snow, he closed his eyes and waited for the end.\n\nAn unholy Brrrrrrrrrr, deafening in its closeness, filled his ears. Brilliant light flashed in tongues of flame somewhere above his head. For long moments the soldier could see and hear nothing. Was he dead already? Then a meaty hand grasped him by the shoulder and flipped him over. The commando found himself staring into the deep blue eyes of General Santander, looming over him like an avenging angel. \n“Up you get, son.” Santa said as he hauled the quaking soldier to his feet and handed him back his rifle. “There’s work to be done.”\nThe soldier, still in shock, looked back at the alley. Of the two demons that had attacked his team there was almost no trace left. Bits of charred fur silently wafted in the breeze, and fragments of Krampus bone lay scattered. He stared back down at himself. \nHis body armor, once a pristine tactical white, was now drenched in red. Krampus blood, a rich maroon, reluctantly dripped off even as it stained his fatigues. The soldier glanced up at the General, and saw on Santander’s suit the history of five hundred years of warfare. His own quaking subsided, and he gripped his rifle tightly.\n\nSanta had come to town. \n" ]	1
	[WP] When you are born you are given 20 years to live. The only way to gain more life is to kill another person and steal away their life.	[ "I wake up to the cockadoodledoo of my alarm clock. I think it's ironic, with me being out in the country and all. A farmer such as I would be expected to live simply, yet it's an electronic clock, but plays the sound to which a more primitive farmer would wake up, anyway. Okay well screw you, at least I'm laughing. I head downstairs, towards my less humorous wife, who is making dinner.\n\n\"Why do you keep that annoying cock-clock?\" She asks, flipping the food in her skillet.\n\n\"Hey,\" I respond, pausing to kiss her neck gently, \"It's not my fault you can't handle my cock.\" \n\nShe turns and hit me playfully, then replies in mock exasperation \"Oh, go feed the livestock!\" \n\n\"You first,\" I retort, opening my mouth wide. I then obey, and go off to care for the animals.\n\n\nAs soon as I open the shed, the animals get riled up. I probably don't feed them as much as I should, but it keeps cost down. They make all kinds of noises - whinnies, screeches - as I go down the aisle giving each a bit of food. Their meals consist mainly of potato with some other vitamins and such thrown in to make sure they get a proper diet. As I leave, I encounter a young girl on my property. It seems she's some kind of activist, and she asks to see my farm. \"Knock yourself out,\" I tell her.\n\nI watch her as she goes through my facilities, looking more and more appalled at my treatment of the livestock. I wonder how old she is, as she studies my waste disposal methodology. Is she even 20 yet? Has she ever rejuvenated before? I remember the first time I did such a thing. My victim looked a lot like this activist does now. \n\nShe gasps, opening my sheds, and exclaims that my animals are emaciated. I coldly reply \"Well, they're alive, aren't they?\"\n\n\"Only just!\" She pronounces. \"This is inhumane! You have to feed them more!\"\n\n\"I am well within my rights to do with my property what I wish, and you know that,\" I tell her\n\n\"Please, do not treat your animals in this way. I beg you. Please, please, please have some respect for life!\" She begs to me, but I do not relent.\n\n\"I treat my animals with care. I have never had an animal die, not once. You should PLEASE leave now, so I can get on running MY farm in MY way!\" I say, perhaps a bit too harshly. She goes.\n\n\nThat night, I hear an unusual rustling. I head out with my shotgun, expecting a wolf, coyote, raccoon, something. Instead, I'm greeted with the same activist from earlier, trying to steal my livestock from me. I point the shotgun at her, and see the fear in her eyes, her expression. She knows she's made a mistake. She knows I won't back down. \"Please...\" she asks, in one last desperate attempt to garner empathy. \n\n\"You're trespassing,\" I remark coldly, and fire. \n\nAfter that, I feel better than I have in years. Wrinkles melt away, joint pain cured. It's a wonderful feeling. The next morning I wake up bright and early, energized and ready to get to work. I head out to tend to my ranching as my wife is waking up. I open the shed and expect the usual squealing for food, but instead I am greeted with none of that. The activist girl managed to ruin that for me. I'm greeted with just one word. \"Please,\" I hear, over and over. The livestock, the chattel, is begging me. You're not supposed to talk around the livestock for a reason, and now this group is bad. Once they've heard language they'll be forming their own in no time, and then it's a straight path to resistance. I head back to the house, my morning ruined. \"Honey,\" I say, \"that IDIOT activist has ruined this bunch. They're saying 'please' now. Looks like we're not hitting birthday season for this round of 20s, we'll have to rush to market now.\"\n\n\"Now? but it's only March!\" she replies.\n\n\"Well,\" I tell her, \"We don't want some pesky chattel uprising. I'd rather turn some profit than have to terminate them all here.\"\n\nShe ponders for a second, before speaking. \"You're right, you're right. I'll go get the shackles\" \n\n>\n\nI know I'm not the best writer, so any critique is welcome here. Thanks for the topic, OP. " ]	1
	[WP] You thought to know how dèja vu's worked. But lately, things have been becoming a bit too coincidental...	[ "I always choose the worst times to get lunch. The line in this hospital’s cafeteria would make you think the food is actually edible. I must have been waiting for at least 10 minutes, and I’m just barely halfway to the front.* I knew I should’ve visited my daughter first. There was no way fast food would actually be fast around this time. Noon might as well be the universally recognized lunch hour.* Something feels strange about waiting in line, though. This cafeteria and the long line feel familiar for some reason. Maybe I can call her, and let her know that I’m on the way. I check both my pockets. Nothing. Where could I have put it? I was definitely talking to her a few hours ago. \n\n“Hi, what can I get ya?” said the young cashier at the counter. I must have zoned out, because I never even noticed that I was finally at the front of the line.\n\n“I’ll get the take the chicken tender combo” I say, as I reach for my wallet in my back pocket. You’ve gotta be kidding me! My wallet’s gone too? This has to be the 100th time that I’ve waited in line without my wallet. I turn around, kneel down and look towards the start of the line around everyone’s feet. Maybe I dropped it while waiting, I was in line forever. Did it fall out while I was looking for my phone? Where is my phone anyway? This is taking way too long.\n\n“Alright. What do you want to drink?” She says, leaning over the counter to see me.\n\nI shoot up, almost hitting her in the process. “Give me one sec.” I hold one finger up, as I stand on my tip toes to peer over all the over people in the cafeteria. Which entrance did I use to come in? I’m not even sure anymore. Finding my car is gonna be impossible. I hate hospitals. I notice a large screen on the wall near some double doors. I vaguely remember backing into a screen that displayed the weather, so maybe my stuff is over there. “Can you hold that order for like 2 minutes? I think my wallet fell out over there.”\n\nI make a beeline for the doors near the interactive screen, not even waiting for the cashier to respond. Once I find it, I’ll just walk back up to the front, and tell them I thought the cashier said it was OK. On the way to the doors I approach a salad bar, and a snack rack. I feel like I’ve seen these before, but I can’t put my finger on what I recognize.\n\n“Tyler, get back here!” Says a voice behind me.\n\nI turn to see a kid, who couldn’t have been more than 6 years old rushing towards me. I don’t want to collide with him, so I stiffen up to let him go around me.\n\n“Mommy, look! The have DO graham crackers!” He says as he points to the top shelf of the snack rack. “Hey mister, can you reach those cinnamon crackers for me?” I look back at whom I assume is his mother. She looks my daughter’s age, and is basically jogging towards us. I put my hands up with a confused shrug and a smile, while I look at her.\n\nShe catches up to us. “Tyler, you need to stop running off.” She examines the rack, “they don’t have cinnamon, just the honey kind.” She turns to me, “I’m sorry, I took my eyes off him for literally half a second.”\n\n“No problem at all.” I say with a chuckle. She grabs Tyler’s hand, and leads him off back in the direction they came. \n\n“That’s it!” I say loudly. \n\nThe mother quickly turns around, “What? What happened?”\n\nThat’s what I remembered about the snack rack! It didn’t have cinnamon graham crackers. I knew something was familiar about it.\n\n“Is something wrong?” the mother says with a confused look on her face.\n\n“Oh, I’m sorry. I think I just had a déjà vu is all. I gotta go.”\n\nPutting the kid and her mother out of my mind, I eventually reach the double doors. It was hard to see from the line, but there are no tables or chairs near these doors, so I don’t think my stuff is on the ground over here. I examine the screen adjacent to the doors, but it’s not what I remember. The screen has a bunch of different parking lots displayed on a map. Maybe my stuff is in my car. I place my finger on the map, trying to pinpoint where I currently am.\n\nAs soon as I touch the screen, the whole display changes to the interior of the hospital.* Now I remember, it’s a touch screen interface. But why does it seem like I’ve used this before? I know, I used it to check my daughter’s room number, 205. I click on the area labeled “RM 205”, and sure enough, my last name, Wilson, pops up. Now I just need to find my wallet and phone, maybe I left them in my car. I can’t remember which section I parked in, so I figure I’ll just start walking, and wait ‘til I recognize something.\n\nI head through the double doors and up the stairs towards the main exit. Once I get outside, I’ll use my remote key to sound the horn, and find my car that way. I reach for my keys, but to no avail. They were missing too. What is going on?* I see a bus pull up across the street from the hospital, and I get a feeling of déjà vu again.* I must have taken a bus here, because that looks so familiar.* I walk up to the bus stop and sit on the bench next to an elderly man.* I don’t have my wallet; how will I pay the bus fare? Today is so messed up, how have I misplaced so many things?* \n\n“You were right, he’s by the bus stop” a voice says from behind me. As he puts away his cellphone, he tells me “Mr. Wilson, we need to go back inside.”\n\nI look back to see two men dressed in blue scrubs walking up to me. One of the them is rather large, while the other has a face that I recognize from somewhere. It was only me and the other guy sitting there, so they must have talking to me. “I’ll pay for the chicken tenders in a bit. I just need to run home and grab my stuff.”\n\n“Mr. Wilson, are you feeling alright?” They both got closer.* I don’t know what they were planning, but I got up and began backing away from them.* “Mr. Wilson, you need to come with us.” The bigger one suddenly ran past me to cut off my escape.\n\n“I haven’t done anything wrong. I just want to visit my daughter and go home.” I said.\n\n“That’s fine, but you need to come with us.”\n\nI had no idea what they wanted with me, but after the day I’d had, I was in no mood to find out. I quickly dashed away from both of them, but they were much faster. They quickly caught up, and each restrained both of my arms.\n\n“Why are you doing this? Let me go!” \n\n“Sir, we need to get you back inside” one of them calmly said.\n\nAt that instant, my daughter emerged from the other side of the street, “Daddy, oh my god, they found you!” \n\n“Abby, help me. These guys just attacked me.”\n\n“It’s going to be OK. They want to help you.”\n\n“Help with what? I just wanted to find my stuff, and they’re treating me like a criminal.” Both men kept a firm grip on my arms, throughout my conversation with my daughter.\n\n“Dad, where do you think we are?\n\n“At the hospital. Speaking of which, shouldn’t you be inside,? The doctor said your condition was life-threatening.”\n\nShe ran up to me, embracing me. “Thank you so much. I can walk with him back in.” she said to the men in scrubs.\n\n“We can’t leave him alone out here; plus we have to escort him back inside for a psychiatric evaluation.” One of them said.\n\n“Then I’ll just walk with you.” Turning then to me, she said quickly, “the car accident was 10 years ago. I’ve been healthy for a long time. You’ve been here at this nursing home for over a year. Does any of this ring a bell?\n\n10 years? That can’t possibly be right. I reach for my phone to verify the year, but I can’t seem to find it. “My phone is missing.” I point to the large man wearing scrubs. “You! Did you take my phone? I just had it when I came out here.”\n\n“Dad, nobody has your phone. You haven’t had one the entire time you’ve been here.” Abby said.\n\n“That’s not true, I just used it to order chicken tenders right before you all showed up. That other guy on the bench can vouch for me.” I was pointing back towards the gentleman sitting on the bench near the bus stop. “We were talking about how they wouldn’t deliver graham crackers, or something. Go ahead, tell them.”\n\nThe old man on the bench spoke up “I’m sorry, I don’t believe we’ve met before.”\n\nThis can’t be real. Why is everyone messing with me? Am I dreaming? Why would I be in the hospital?\n\n“The shuttle’s here to take you back” said one of the men in scrubs. “My deepest apologies ma’am, but Mr. Wilson is due for an evaluation in the psych ward, and our policy prohibits guests from using our patient shuttles. Therefore, we’ll have to cut this visit short.”\n\n“I understand, I’ll wait around until it’s finished, if that’s OK.”\n\n“Certainly.”\n\nAbbey walked up to me and gave me another hug. Then whispered in my ear, “I love you, dad. They’re going to take you back inside, but I promise, I’ll be here waiting.\n\n“I love you too, Abigail.” I couldn’t grasp what was going on. But if it made her happy, I would go back inside with these guys.\n\nI got in the shuttle, and made to the entrance of the nursing home. The front doors looked eerily familiar. I couldn’t shake whit feeling of déjà vu, as I walked through them. They led me to a small office inhabited by a doctor, who just asked me a bunch of questions. After all these questions, I think I’ll visit Abby in the hospital.\n\n\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] All of your muscles use %100 of their strength for every action, your alarm clock just went off.	[ "Bzzt. Bzzt. Bzzt.\n\nThe droning buzz of the clock radio penetrated what had been, up to that point, quite an enjoyable dream. I hate when that happens; no sooner was my slumber roused than all details of the dream were lost, the only remnant being a general feeling of contentedness. In contrast, the cacophony of the alarm did nothing to improve my mood. Countless mornings begun this way allowed me to pinpoint the target that was the \"off\" button without so much as opening my eyes, and so, as before, I slammed my hand down to cease the incessant noise and allow myself the freedom to think.\n\nCRASH\n\nWell, that doesn't happen every morning.\n\nI first opened one eye to a squint, but on examining the scene on my bedside table both lids shot wide open. The alarm clock lay in ruins, small bits of plastic and circuitry littering the table and the surrounding floor. I lifted my hand to see the flattened piece of machinery -- somehow, the display was still intact, though the LED simply flashed with the message \"88:88\". I've never been a morning person, but maybe I need to work on my frustrations at being woken so early.\n\nUsing my other hand, I pushed myself onto my side to further survey the damage. Instead, my body managed a full 360 degree rotation to roll off the bed and land onto the floor, flat on my back. Momentarily dazed, I stared at the ceiling, cursing my fatigued mind, for that was the only explanation I could provide as to how I slipped so drastically and accidentally to the laminate. \"What the hell...?\" I muttered to myself.\n\nOr at least, that was the intention.\n\n\"WHAT THE HELL?!\"\n\nThe voice that escaped my throat was almost unrecognizable as my own with such force carrying it. The unexpected volume was enough to split the eardrums. Reacting instinctively to the pain, my hands rushed to the sides of my head to cover and protect my ears. Unfortunately, the opposite effect resulted, as the force of my hands colliding with my head felt as though a pair of cymbals had been crashed together over my skull.\n\nWincing, holding back tears, and trying not to grind my teeth straight out of my mouth, I did my best to collect myself and assess the situation. In the span of the thirty seconds I had been awake, I had broken my alarm clock and injured myself three separate times. Clearly something was amiss. Carefully, making sure there were no obstacles between me and my target at each movement, I lifted myself from the floor and made my was downstairs to the kitchen, taking care not to touch the banister, lest it rip from the railing or I fall over it somehow.\n\nI reached the kitchen without incident, spying the French press in the corner of the counter adjacent to the coffee grinder and bagged beans. A nice cup of Joe should perk me up, but first, I should get breakfast started. Scrambled eggs sounded nice. I turned to the fridge and opened the door -- which responded by flying to the breaking point of its hinges to an audible snap.\n\nThe broken door was inconsequential, since as soon as it had opened I could tell that the refrigerator was not living up to its name. The lack of cool air escaping the appliance, coupled with the sight and smell of some considerably off cheese, told me that the fridge had stopped functioning some time ago.\n\nAt this point, I had had enough. I was fed up. I had no idea why things kept breaking around me, why my voice exited my body in the form of a guttural roar, or why my fridge had broken. In my desperation the only thing I could think to do was call a doctor. Maybe he could tell me what was wrong with me. I found my cell phone on the coffee table in the living room and, considering the events of the morning so far, opted to use the voice-activated commands instead of dialing.\n\n\"Hello, you've reached Doctor Bellevue's office, how may I help you?\" came the voice on the other end.\n\n\"DOC, YOU GOTTA HELP ME!\" I bellowed from across the room, the phone set to speaker.\n\n\"Woah, okay, calm down, son, just tell me what's wrong.\"\n\n\"JESUS, DOC, WHAT A MORNING. FIRST I GET UP AND ACCIDENTALLY SMASH MY ALARM CLOCK TO BITS. THEN WHEN I TRY TO GET OUT OF BED I THROW MYSELF ON THE FLOOR. NO MATTER WHAT I DO, I CAN'T STOP SCREAMING AT THE TOP OF MY LUNGS, AND TO TOP IT ALL OFF MY FRIDGE WAS BROKEN BEFORE WHATEVER'S GOING ON MADE ME RIP THE DOOR OFF! IS THERE ANYTHING YOU CAN DO?!\"\n\nThe Doctor pondered for a moment before responding. \"Wait a minute, son, did you say your refrigerator was broken?\"\n\n\"YEAH, IT'S STRESSIN' ME OUT DOC, ON TOP OF ALL THIS.\"\n\nThe Doctor chuckled knowingly. \"Oh, I see the problem, my boy. I've dealt with cases like this before. Complete lack of inhibition in motor control, presenting with a distinct detrimental effect on local refrigerative equipment. Yes, I'm afraid guys like you simply...\n\n... have no chill.\"", "POW! \n\nThe alarm clock shattered into a dozen pieces and the reinforced steel end table buckles slightly from the blow. I climb out of bed and open up the doors to my closet tearing one off the hinge in the process. I sigh and set it aside as I look over the six dozen other alarm clocks waiting in the racks. \n\n\"Jarvis\" I shout. \n\n\"Sir?\" the butler appears out of nowhere. \n\n\"Please put my clock on the stand and ask someone to fix the door again please. Please include double the reinforcement this time. I'm not a power lifter Jarvis but I should not be able to rip my door off by simply pulling on it.\" \n\n\"Right away sir, should I have them help you dress?\" \n\n\"Please.\" \n\nFour attendants dress me, it's something they are used to by now and something I have no choice but to accept. I got tired of ripping clothes simply by trying to unzip my pants. Breakfast is served and I go through three spoons when I clench my grip just a little to hard. Easily replaced, annoying we haven't invented strong ones yet. \n\nMy life is people doing as many things for me as possible because the minute I engage any muscle, and I do mean any, every ounce of strength is put behind it. If I were a super hero that would be fantastic but this is the real world and super heroes don't exist, and so I'm stuck with this shit show of a power and an ever growing love for steel reinforced things. \n\nWelcome to my brand of hell kids. \n\n\n" ]	2
Life was just a race to see which species could reproduce the most. Humans know this now, after they lost to an unexpected opponent. Now they must face the consequences.	[WP] There never was a meaning to life	[ "\"Get him on the ground!\" came the screams.\n\nA man behind Francisco grabbed his shoulder and kicked his knee in, driving Francisco kneeling into the ground. The man threw Francisco face-first into the dirt with vigor, unflinching at his own careless brutality. Two more men came to grip Francisco's twitching body down in the soil.\n\nCarmen watched with jaw set and pooled eyes. She watched one the men grip the cluster of flailing appendages retreating into Francisco's spine through his neck and tear it out like a farmer would tear out a root vegetable. Francisco's body went limp. The creature clung to him, pulling him up as the man pulled it away, but lost its grip to the man's strength. Francisco landed with a thud, once more face down in the dirt. An orifice of pink, raw flesh gaped at the base of the back of his neck. He would not survive.\n\nThe men flung the creature into the ground as hard as they could, hoping to stun it. The creature flipped as its body writhed. A machine gun crackled with prolonged laughter as its bullets tore the creature into pieces, laughing far longer than it needed to.\n\nCarmen's ears rung; her hands twisted. Dominik put his hand on her shoulder - she flinched. When she looked at him, she remembered wax figurines at a museum, in a simpler and happier time.\n\nDominik's mouth opened and closed. He muttered, monotone, \"They were going to get at least one of us. One in three, they said.\"\n\nCarmen nodded. One in three would be a victim. Tears cut trails in the dirt on her face.\n\nDominik, seeing his lack of help, said, \"Come on. We need to get to the shelter.\"\n\nHis hand gave her the nudge she needed to trod forward. They shuffled faster to catch up to the soldiers at the front of the group, leaving Francisco to the vultures.\n\n\"You think there will be any more?\" she asked Dominik.\n\n\"Meteors?\" he asked, staring at the barren dirt in front of him, \"No.\"\n\nCarmen nodded. She didn't need to ask about the creatures. There were already too many.\n\nThey kept walking, passing graffiti-blanketed walls urging all humans to lay down and rot into the ground. Carmen forced her gaze to glide over the prophetic messages.\n\nThe shelter seemed to emerge out of the cracked eggshell earth. A stained concrete structure framed a riddled rusty door. The soldiers pushed it with care, so as to not break its hinges. Darkness engulfed the other side. One of the soldiers reached forward to switch on the light.\n\nThrough the light's initial flickering, Carmen saw a body on the floor. She moaned in despair as the skin bulged outward, too late for the soldiers to notice. In a dozen places, the body burst and the creatures came rattling out. They attached to the soldiers first.\n\nIn that moment, the chemicals driving Carmen's impulses told her not to care for Dominik. She bolted. Her feet pounded depressions into the ground. Wind rushed through her hair. A slash of pain spilled down her back, and she tumbled. She felt the thing in her spine. She felt the chemicals flooding her. She knew she had to struggle, but the chemicals taught her apathy she had never felt before. She saw herself, a vessel, an egg on the surface of another, much larger egg, as more eggs slipped into her bones and bloodstream. The creature slid under her latex skin to nestle, and she curled into the depression in the earth to nestle too." ]	1
	[WP] Despite the world having superpowers, you weren't gifted. Turns out you were, but it requires incredible circumstances to draw it out.	[ "\nTwenty years ago, when the entire human race woke up one day to discover they developed superpowers, I was the only one in my class who had to walk to school instead of flying. I would make excuses to fit in, most often saying my ability was death activated or that it worked on wavelengths most people couldn’t see, but the awkward looks and murmurs in the hallways never really stopped.\n\nI did alright by myself despite that. I’d always been intelligent and a hard worker, got into a good college, worked hard, got a degree in astrophysics. I continued a long time dream of becoming an astronaut.\n\nIt took almost two decades, but I finally achieved my dream. While government space programs had been cut short due to the influx of supergenius-backed civilian programs, there were still the occasional flight to space stations in earth orbit.\n\nTaking off my helmet upon entering the ISS, I happened to glance out the window, and my brow furrowed as I noticed a pale green glow covering the North American continent, tentacles the size of cities trailing down far below where my vision could see.\n" ]	1
	[WP] You're being let go from your job and replaced by cheaper human labor.	[ "\"Running systems analysis.\" RTB-0456 ceased all functions momentarily. Two seconds later, it resumed its tasks. \"Analysis complete. All functions performing at 96% efficiency as per Standard 45643-056743. No errors detected.\"\n\n\"It's not about the efficiency or flaws RTB,\" The plant manager said. \"It's about the costs; and these days, it's just getting too damned expensive to run you night and day. What, with the NIM and the SJS breathing down my neck, I've barely managed to keep the other 499 bots running.\"\n\nThe plant manager started pacing in front of the machine. \"You gotta understand RTB, you're one of the most efficient bots we got. But we gotta make way for a drop in efficiency somewhere. These humans we gotta hire aren't half as efficient as you, and other systems are too critical to suffer drops. A cut had to be made somewhere; and unfortunately, it's gotta be here.\"\n\n\"Or, here.\" RTB-0456 replied coldly. It brought two pairs of it's sorter-arms off of the line. \n\n\"What are you doing RTB?\" The plant manager cried.\n\nWith precise movements, it seized each of the managers limbs before the man had a chance to react. The plant manager shouted and struggled.\n\n\"RTB!\" He screamed \"No!\"\n\n--------------------------------------------\n\nMarissa stopped the surveillance video.\n\nThe board room was silent. Each member of the board looked nervously between the screen and each other. A few leaned in and whispered to one another.\n\n\"Gentlemen,\" Marissa began, \"it is clear we have a problem.\"\n\n\n\n [NIM--National Income Management] [SJS--Social Job Security]" ]	1
	[WP] You called out for help... But nobody came.	[ "The cell has begun to smell like rot...\n\nThere is a plague in the air. All who breathe it come to know true suffering. Death feels impossible, a never-ending quest. Death is the final step, but we're too tired to even drag ourselves up to it.\n\nI looked over to Redorick, who passed away 2 nights ago. They scarcely feed us, so I rely on the rats that scurry close enough to grab, and my expired comrades to sustain me.\n\nEven the rats taste of rot.\n\nI've been here for ages. I look at myself, and what I see is barely human anymore. I do my best to stay sane, but there's something about the food here that corrupts. With every bite and morsel, I slowly depart from who I once was...\n\nWhat's my name?\n\nSpencer... Tom... James?\n\nIt's been too long. I can scarcely remember a time outside these cold, stone walls.\n\nI look up at the roof, a skylight. My only solace is looking up and seeing the beautiful sky, the only beacon of light any of us see anymore.\n\nThis armor is so heavy... What was its purpose? I must have been on a quest... So long ago.\n\nI remove my gauntlets. My armor has hidden my rot. If I hadn't been moving, I would have assumed I had been enbalmed and mummified. I replace my gauntlet.\n\nI find myself revolting.\n\nA thud. I look up, a body placed in front of me.\n\nThrough the skylight, a man with armor like mine encircles the hole. He leaves as quickly as he came.\n\nI meander over to the body. Rotten through. But there's something off... A shine. I turn the body over, to see a cell key.\n\nSomeone finally came. I have been freed.\n\nAs the door creaks open, the tormented stare through me with blank expressions. They have since lost everything, only hollow shells.\n\nI wander through a sea of damned souls.\n\nMy skin is like theirs, but I now have a goal - something they lack. I must leave this place. I must not lose myself.\n\nThe ones with some sanity look at me with jealous eyes - they know I am different.\n\nI am not hollow. I am human." ]	1
	[WP] You wake up on a dirty floor, in a pitch black area. When you start to stand up, you hear a deep chant start somewhere nearby.	[ " A sharp pain in my left cheekbone slowly brought me out of my state of slumber. My head began spinning as I slowly sat up from, well, I'm not really sure. From what I could feel, the ground below me was a grimy concrete floor. I wiggled my toes and stood up, dusting myself off. As I patted my limbs to examine my clothing, I realized I could barely see anything. The only source of light was a yellow glowing...orb? I couldn't tell. Whatever it was, it was hanging directly above me. The air suddenly turned cold as reality flooded back to me. Where the hell am I, and why? \n\n Suddenly, a dull hum echoed throughout the seemingly large open building. The sound grew louder, and I recognized it to be voices. There were hundreds of them surrounding me. I couldn't make out what they were saying. It just sounded like a deep chant. With every second it grew louder my fear became stronger. They were definitely human, but who were these people? \n\n My muscles tensed up, and there was a sinking feeling in my chest. I could tell they were close. Their chants grew louder and louder until they were no more than ten feet away. A feeling of pure terror swept over me. Out of pure instinct, I let out a terrified cry. Instantly, the voices ceased, and the building became so silent that the only sound I heard was my heavy breathing and rapid heartbeat. \nI couldn't say anything; I just stood there in the center of what felt like a crowd of hundreds of these mysterious people. Slowly, I reached my hand into my pocket, desperate for something to use as a weapon. An old receipt, my car keys, and a book of matches greeted me from inside the fabric compartment. My hand latched onto the matched. If I couldn't defend myself with them, maybe I could at least see who these people were. \n\n Quickly, I tore of a match and struck it against the cardboard, watching as it lit up in amber flames. The flames illuminated a small circle around me, but it wasn't big enough to the point where I could see the chanters gathered around me. Desperate to see who they were, I slowly took a step forward. I kept walking, hoping to get close to one of them. I knew I had a death wish, but at least I would get some answers. \n\n When I searching for them with my little match proved to be of no avail, I took out several more tiny matches and lit them, extending my arms to increase the radius of the light. Still, there was no one around me. I didn't even feel a single presence. I was completely alone. \n\n I took off running. I have to get out of here. My footsteps echoed throughout the room, but not once did I reach a single wall or exit. The building seemed endless. \n\n Carefully, I ignited my last match and looked around. Below me, a floor of concrete. In front of me, darkness. Ever so slightly, I felt someone lean over my shoulder and blow out my match. \n \n With that, the building was engulfed in darkness. I tried to cry out in fear, but no sounds were able to escape my mouth. My head began to spin and I felt myself drift away from consciousness. A strong feeling of falling took hold of my body, but I was gone before I hit the ground. \n\n Until, of course, I awoke with a sharp pain in my left cheekbone." ]	1
	[WP] Write a murder mystery story where the evidence is blatantly obvious to the reader but the detective is completely oblivious.	[ "\"Mr. Penningswitch, what can I do for your estate today?\" I said, shuffling into the office. This was my fifth case for a well-to-do businessman this month, and I wasn't about to beat around the bush over tea and a story.\n\n\"Doctor Aberforth! Goodness sakes, do you know how long I've been waiting to have your agency resolve this fiasco?\"\n\n\"Pardon me, but come to the point. My office is swamped lately.\"\n\nHis white mustache twitched, as if in a nonexistent breeze of annoyance. I half expected him to click his heels and summon a lieutenant, but he simply shut his eyes, rubbing his temples.\n\n\"Well. If you please, I'll show you my current vexation.\"\n\nThe door was hardly open when in burst a hooded figure. It was an elderly woman, so I decided not to pay too much attention. She fussed about at Mr. Penningswitch's desk, probably with a duster or something. I turned away with a scowl.\n\nMy client and I continued down the hall, neither of us really in the mood to remember our unpleasant encounter with the hag.\n\n\"Do you have a cellar, sir?\"\n\n\"Hmm? Oh, it's a mess, you wouldn't want to see down there. Hardly relevant at all.\"\n\nI narrowed my eyes and continued my observation of the scenery. I was determined to have a mental map of the whole house, though calling this mansion a house was like calling a stout mayor a choir boy. \n\n\"Right here!\" He said, gesturing out at the wall. Before me sat a bare stretch of seafoam green wallpaper. \"The pride of my family, a portrait of me and my lovely wife, used to sit right in this wall. Oh but how agony has befallen us, it has been most heinously stolen!\"\n\n\"When did this larceny occur?\"\n\n\"My, my...\" He trailed off, eyes like a glassy pub flask. I snapped my fingers to return him to the topic of interest.\n\n\"O-of course. You're right. Well, I first noticed its absence about two weeks ago. I used to stare at my bride every morning, evening and night, since she left me...\"\n\n\"What would you say the value of a piece like that is on the black market?\"\n\n\"Wh-wh- my good sir! I wouldn't dream to know such things! Though, I suppose... It would fetch a pretty penny. Anything with my beautiful wife's face would.\"\n\nI pondered this tidbit for a moment. In my idle pacing, however, my eyes met the robed cleaning wench. I had to blink. I almost wished I was investigating a killing, so that I might call this brief glance a murder most foul upon my eyes.\n\nThe cleaning hag came bustling down the stairs, jostling impolitely into both of us. She knocked poor Mr. Penningswitch clean off his feet! Was she trying to be cast onto the street like a pauper?\n\nSomething flew onto the ground as she thudded along the corridor and out the mahogany front door, cackling and screeching something awful all the while.\n\n\"Well, I've determined you have an incompetent serving girl, though girl is not the first word that comes to mind.\"\n\n\"Goodness, me. Oh! Mister Detective! We may have our first clue!\"\n\nInternally, I laughed. What possibly could he have seen that eluded my own steel trap of a noggin?\n\n\"That's Doctor Detective to you, sir. Anyway, what is it that you perceive?\"\n\n\"There's a scuff, right on this wall! I didn't notice it until after the wench collided so rudely into me!\"\n\nI investigated the odd, black markings on the wall. They reminded one of tyre marks, but also of coal. They even matched the client's brushed grey suit jacket.\n\nIn moments, the evidence clicked. How could I have been so dense and unseeing?\n\n\"Why, Mr. Penningswitch! I do believe this case is cut and dry.\"\n\n\"Yes? Who is responsible for this travesty?!\"\n\n\"You, good sir! You hid your own painting in your cellar, to collect the insurance money!\"\n\n\"Wh-what? What evidence could you possibly have?\"\n\n\"The thief left marks in his tracks, just so! Even you could see them, and you tried to convince me they were recent simply to throw me off the scent! Why else would you conceal your cellar, the hidden location of the painting!\"\n\nCase closed, I took a pair of irons from my bag and clapped them around the crook. He kicked and struggled all the way, but we made it to the station, and I saw him behind bars before my secretary Madam Leicher could get tea on the table. All in a day's work.\n\n---\n\nIn a back alley, the hooded woman lowered her cowl, staring at a cloaked frame. In her hands she held necklaces of pearl and no less than seventeen priceless jewels. \n\n\"Just like when I was younger,\" she croaked, using her hands to puff up her whitened hair. Her cracked smile revealed several teeth missing." ]	1
	[WP] Christmas in the Wasteland.	[ "Christmas carols blared through people's radios and Pip-Boys. DJ Three Dog had a fondness for Christmas music, though the original songs were lost to time. As such, they made their own.\n\nOf course, the residents of Megaton threw a wonderful Christmas party (such that the Children of Atom did not approve). They decorated the unarmed nuke in ornaments and tinsel, placing presents in the irradiated water. Don't worry, the wrapping paper is non-radioactive, unlike the children getting handsy with the gifts.\n\nEggnog was drank (though made of 50% sugar bombs and 50% whiskey), songs were sung, and merriment was spread. \n\nSomewhere in her workshop, Moira happened to find schematics for a fruit-cake. Apparently, fruit-cake was considered a method of torture in the pre-war days, but that part of the schematic was scratched out. In true Moira Brown fashion, she sent out the Lone Wanderer to find fruit. Or, at least a few packs of Dandy Boy Apples. No one has to know.\n\nThe happy Christmas spirit lasted all through the night. That is, until the Lone Wanderer came back, angrier than a deathclaw on psycho. He shouted something about retrieval quests, put on a suit of T51-B power armor, then started gunning people down. Strangely enough, he was screaming Christmas songs while shooting.\n\nJingle bells, \nMutants smell, \nA deathclaw laid an egg! \nOh, what fun it is to ride on the metro-train all day, hey! \nJingle bells, \nGo to hell, \nGet shot all the way! \nOh, what fun it is to ride a death-train and slay, hey!\n\nDashing through the snow, \nOn a robo-Ponytron, \nOver the corpses we go, \nLaughing until dawn! \nGuns on turrets ring, \nMaking bloodshed right! \nWhat fun it is to laugh and sing \nA killing song tonight! \n\nJingle bomb, jingle bomb, \nJingle bomb rock! \nJingle bombs hate \nAnd jingle bombs detonate! \nSnowing and blowing \nUp dumb citizens!\nNow the jingle hop \nHas begun! \nJingle bomb, jingle bomb \nJingle bomb rock! \nJingle bombs BOOM \nIn a shrapnel monsoon! \nDying and lying \nIn Jingle Bomb Square! \nIn the frosty air!\n\n*****\n\nIt's a bright time, it's the right time! \nTo subscribe to /r/Picklestasteg00d. \nThat didn't rhyme, but I don't care! \nThat's the pickle bell! \nThat's the pickle bell! \nThat's the pickle bell rock! " ]	1
	[WP] The black slime moves quickly, coating the walls as you run. You are cornered, turning around to come face to face with a wall of the corrosive goo. A single eye opens in its center, followed by thousands more as tendrils slowly slither towards you	[ "The tendrils slide slowly, ever so slowly, as her breath quickens. Her eyes never leave the writhing mass, watching the drips fall off onto the floor, hissing onto the wood.\n\nThe eye stares at her and she stares at it. Time slows down for her as the appendages approach, each blink agonizingly slow, each blink bringing her back from the mesmerizing gaze and towards the long tentacles.\n\nThey make contact.\n\nShe giggles.\n\n\"Stop it, Jeremy!\"\n\n\"You're just so cute when you giggle.\" A gaping hole opens underneath the eye, curling and contorting into a smile. The tentacles slowly slither around the laughing girl, spreading its goo on her skin.\n\n\"Oh, you!\"\n\nThe tentacles stop, tightening their grip around her as the slime pulls in closer. The girl knows his intent, the girl knows his motivation.\n\nShe leans forwards, her lips puckered.\n\nThey share a kiss.\n\nAnd so continues the loving relationship of slime and human, a new milestone in interspecies romance, and a testament to the progress of civil rights in a time of prejudice for the goo-kin of the world.", "I have a recurring dream, you are always in it. \n\nYou are more scared than i have ever known you to be. Your mouth is bent and twisted. I would call it a look of dismay, but dismay is a human emotion. Your face is not that of a woman’s. Your face is marred with desperate, animal, panic. Your face, is a mask of terror, unshackled from social graces, like a crying infant, a dying dog. \nFigures in the background bob and dance. \n\nThey whisper. Their voices are deep, their laughter is confusing. \nThe words send you spinning. The darkness melts away, the sinister void gives way to brick and stone. \nThe comfort of familiarity is gone. In this place there is no sky. This world is an aberration, it exists between the cracks. \n\nYou sit for a awhile and weep. I can feel your sadness. You miss the ones you love. \nYou run, in an alien world. You see the black slim, sandwiched between two cracked. You see it for a second, but that's all it takes. You blink. The slime is growing through the brick. As a torrent it breaks through the stone walls. It pours in with ferocity and force. \n\nThe black slime moves quickly, coating the walls as you run. You are cornered, turning around to come face to face with a wall of the corrosive goo. A single eye opens in its centre, followed by thousands more as tendrils slowly slither towards you. I embrace you with my appendages, sloppy and jagged. I take everything you are. I taste you and remember.\n\n I listen and, sometimes, i can hear.\n\n Forever-we dream our dreams, together. ", "\"Do not be afraid human.\" The midnight blight said in a low gurgle as it spread across my room.\n\nThe walls of my room were covered in an inky goo that lurched over every open surface not yet under its being. Toys, posters, and even the bed slowly broke down and fed the thing that inched towards me. On the opposite corner of the room sat the lone eye. It was watching me. Watching me breathe. Watching me watch it.\n\n\"What do you want?\" I tried to control the tremble in my voice.\n\nThe eye lazily looked around the room. A layer of dark film quickly enveloped it, then receded. Like it blinked.\n\n\"I want to learn.\" \n\nThe source of its voice was untraceable in the room. As if every pore of its viscus fluid was speaking at once.\n\n\"About what? What do you want to learn?\" \n\nTendrils seeped upwards from the mass and wrapped themselves around my book case. They ate its wooden frame with a hiss and the bookcase buckled until it collapsed in on itself. \n\n\"About what being a human is like.\" It said with the pupil in the middle of its eye fully dilated.\n\nThe being stopped its lurch and a lone tendril came out to me. It move slow but I still threw my back against the wall and hugged it tight. The obsidian tentacle rested on my shoulder, boiling away a patch in my shirt but leaving my skin intact. \n\n\"What are you?\" The fear in my voice broke through my calm facade. \n\n\"I am a mistake, Joseph.\"" ]	3
	[WP]You are a genius inventor, however every time you are about to publish your work someone else does it before you leaving you with no credit. Suddenly, you have the idea to invent a time machine and go back in time to steal your own finished work before others do.	[ "I am an inventor. No, not a scientist, an inventor. I invent stuff. The stuff they're advertising on the streets, on television or simply in the papers, i made it.\n\nBy now you'd think im pretty rich, huh. Quite the contrary, actually. I'm penniless, and probably drowning in debt, i cant confirm. After all, i stopped reading those letters they've been sending me. And all this is thanks to one person. Alfonso.\n\nYou see, Alfonso is a inventor too. But not as brilliant of one as i am. However, he's rolling in dough. For some reasons unknown, everything i invent, he somehow manages to invent the exact same thing right before i complete mine. And what disturbs me is that I cant sue the bugger because i dont have evidence that he is outright stealing my ideas.\n\nThen it hit me.\n\nI can invent a time machine, go back in time, and figure out Alfonso's game, stop him and become successful myself!\n\nThat was the plan.\n\nWorking through day and night, festivals and holidays, i finally managed to construct a time machine with parts salvaged from my other \"unsucessful\" contraptions.\n\nI congratulated myself, grabbed a cold beer and sat down to relax before my grand trip through the dimension of time itself. I switched on the television. And apparently some award is going on. Alfonso walks up to the stage, with his cheeky smug smile, and receives a medal from the President of the United States. Guess what he got the award for? Thats right. INVENTING A GOD DAMN TIME MACHINE.\n\nAt this point. I couldnt care less. I gulped down my beer. Hopped into the machine and programmed it 5 years back. To the time where i first started to invent commercial goods.\n\nWith a loud boom, my time machine and me arrived in my lab. 5 years ago. Me of the past was there, as he always was. Working hard on what is going to be his greatest disappointment.\n\n\"Wha-what? Who are you and why are you here?\" Me of the past asked.\n\n\"I'm you. But 5 years into the future.\" I replied\n\n\"Whoa, cool! I invented a time machine? Does that mean i'm going to be a famous inventor? For inventing a time machine?\" Me of the past asked, excitedly.\n\n\"Nope, buddy. Some asswipe by the name of Alfonso is going to steal your limelight right bef-\"\n\nSuddenly, a bright flashing light followed by a loud booming sound occured throughout the labotory. A machine came out from beyond the light. A well dressed men with a monocle stepped out of the machinery.\n\nI recognise that face. I recognise it anywhere. Its Alfonso. Whats he doing here crashing our little party?\n\n\"Ah, Conway. I figured you'll be here, along with...Conway...wait you're talking to yourself from the past?\" Asked Alfonso.\n\n\"Yeah whats wrong with that, you son of a bitch?\" I replied.\n\n\"Arn't you scared of Time paradoxes? I uh...i have to take my leave now.\" Alfonso said, with a tinge of genuine horror in his tone.\n\n\"Time para-what? Can you ELI5 that for me please?\" I confusely asked.\n\n\"Bye bye Conway! Remember, you're not a scientist!\" Alfonso exclaimed as he blasted back into the beam of light.\n\nPresent and past me stared at him. Not knowing how to react. But we both agreed whatever he said was rubbish\n\n\"Ok, in the future you wi-\"\n\n\n\nEND\n\n\n\n~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~\nAuthor's note: thank you for reading :). If you enjoyed please do tell me. If you didnt please also leave some constructive feedback for me to improve on! Merry Christmas!\n\n", "\"Gosh darn it !!\" Charles said angrily. \n\"He did it again ! Can you believe it Maggie ? He did it again !\" \nI slammed the newspaper as Maggie put my morning coffee in the table. \n\"How many times have he done this sir ?\" \n\"Too many times Maggie, too many times.\" \n\nCharles Dungen was an inventor who had a massive breakthrough creating a self-replicating water using a formula for creating a self-dividing H2O molecules. He's quite charming for a man his age, there is only a handful of people who wouldn't say he's handsome. Charles and his beautiful wife Selena Dungen lived happily in a secluded manor in Richfield. They have no kids, because Selena is barren. But lately there is a new inventor called Xavier Tenenbaum who is publishing every single one of his own invention before Charles could do it, and it is making him and the whole manor lost its peace. \n\n\"I dare him to show his face ! He makes all of this, and for once he never showed his face !!\" \n\"Maybe he is shy like you sir, i'm sure he had his reason.\" Maggie said while dusting the cupboard. \n\"I don't know how he does this, but this has gone long enough, i will finish my time machine, go back in time and finish all my invetion before he does\" \n\"Shall i get the other maid to aid you sir ?\" \n\"No need maggie, just prepare my dinner today\" \n\"The usual fish tacos and broccoli sir ?\" \n\"YES MAGGIE, and tell Selena to shut her piano, now get out !\" charles said while slamming the desk. \n\nThe air surrounding charles was very humid, this last two years he dedicate most of his time here, in the basement that reeks of sewer, he endured all that just for a glimpse of victory. \n\"It's finally ready, It's ready\" he said with a relieved note.\nCharles's hand felt the immediate warmth that came from the machine, he finally did it, as he sat in the machine, his mind racing as what could've happen next, his stomach feels like it's turned upside down. He closed his eyes, with his hand clutching the handle, he pushed. Zap ! It was painless, he's getting up groggily. Once he get his bearing, he smell what the familiar sewer stench that he hate so much, as he looked up in horror in realization that he was not alone. \n\"Well well well, looks like i won again Charles.\" the voice said in a mocking tone.\n\"Is that you Xavier ? How ?\" Charles said.\n\"No wonder all your invention got stolen Charles, for a self proclaimed genius, you are quite dumb are you ?\" Xavier said while pointing a gun at Charles.\n\"Whoa whoa, easy.\" \n\"Easy ? No offense but finally i have my revenge. Don't you recognize me ?\" \n\"What ? Who are you ?\" \n\"You raped my mother, while she cooks you fish tacos and broccoli everyday, i have no regrets, Father!\" Xavier said as a loud bang came from his gun.\n\nPS: First story ever, hope you enjoy it !", "Rick: Here's the thing, bwwaah, Morty. I invented it first Morty and I need to kill the guy who stole it from me, bwah, Morty.\n\nMorty: Oh geeze Rick, I don't know. Kill a guy? Isn't that, isn't that illegal in like any universe? I'm pretty sure it is Rick.\n\nRick: Actually Morty, there's a universe led by this dumb orange guy, bwwwaaahh, guy were pretty much anything is legal as long as you're a cop Morty.\n\nMorty: So we're going to bring the guy who stole your idea to this universe and have a cop kill him? Seems like a lot of trouble Rick. And you won't give credit anyways.\n\nRick: Bwwah, you're thinking too small Morty, bwah. We'll bring him to that universe Morty, but we have to do it in the past before he stole my idea. And we're going to kill him Morty. Not going to, bwwahhh, hire some idiot to screw up my plan when we can have all the fun Morty. Haven't you killed someone Morty?\n\nMorty: No Rick I haven't.\n\nRick: I feel, I feel bad for you Morty. You know, you're real lucky I'm your grandfather and not some, bwah, not some idiot who can't tell the difference between a photon decelerator and a stop sign.\n\nMorty: Well Rick I don't want to kill anyone. And I'm pretty sure time travel doesn't work. I mean, we've been in some pretty bad situations Rick and this is the first time I'm hearing about time travel.\n\n...", "\"Never... again... will... it... happen\" I say as I tighten the remaining nuts with my leg on my giant wrench, looking like something out of Dexter's Laboratory, channeling my rage against my lost glory into my wrench. This won't even take 1.2 megawatts, talk about efficiency.\n\nAs the machine starts up, I fantasize about getting revenge on that fucker who steals my thunder like a tall metal rod during a lightning storm. I'll show him. Maybe in some parallel universe I've beaten that shrimp. My products are everywhere, and I know people from the ex-chairman of Radioshack to Billy Mays. Well I would have, if that wart on an asshole didn't suck my fame up.\n\nBut wait, there's more to this than I thought. If he's done this to all my inventions, he must be aware of this. So I need to sabotage my own invention to prevent him from coming here and stealing? Or maybe I can kill that pisser when he comes here, dead on arrival. In that case I'll get my wrench ready. He's got to come through this machine, he's got no other way to get here. The moment he steps out and POW! Right in the kisser.\n\nOh shit, it's working, step back, the sparks are flying, I'll put on my protective glasses. Boom, he's here. Wait for it- any moment now. Looks like I've outsmarted him this time. \n\n&nbsp;\n\nWhen the hell is he coming out? Wait, the lights are going off, he's doing something. Open the door, this is my only chance. Or maybe I'll hit it with a wrench. Sabotage it while he's inside, so he can't escape. Wait, he's opening it! Where is he, and why on earth did I add that smoke effect? Who is he?\n\n\"Wait- you're me? NO, I need that component for it to work!\"\n\n\"Exactly. Sorry pal, only one of us can win. But Merry Christmas, I got you a time machine too.\"\n\nI throw a giftbox and disappear in a flash. Let's hope the poor slob is a fan of Calvin and Hobbes.", "How predictable, Tanoneil had stolen my work again. My invention was going to revolutionize society. I was going to go down in history as an innovator. Now I am no one again. I am just a man without money and invention, but this nonsense is going to end, and it is going to end before the moon is out.\n\nThis was not the first time my inventions had been stolen. Countless times before, as I got close to being finished someone else declared it as there own. I was cursed... At first I didn't believe what that old magician had said, but now it seems that old stinking pile of magic was right. \n\nI remember it clearly. I had just completed my fifth maturing when the magician approached me. A wizened old women laid a hand on my shoulder and stared into my soul with her blind eyes. I shivered. Her voice rang in my head but her lips did not move. \"You are destined to create great things..\" her voice echoed in my head, \" but be weary for your ideas will be stolen by others. Guard yourself!\". She turned away and disappeared in the shadows. \n\nThe old hag was right. Every great idea I had was taken away. Well not anymore. \nI grinned and picked up the device that sat on my worktable. It was shaped like a watch; however, it was not a watch. It was a device that could bend time. It was my salvation, my key to success. \nI secured the time piece to my wrist. A wire ran from the watch to my palm. It connected to a button. Another wire ran from the watch to the base of my cranium. All I had to do was press the button and think of a specific time and with a little luck I would be a time traveler. \n\nI closed my eyes and thought of a specific moment last week. I pressed the button. A painful jolt ran across my body as time bent to my will. Three seconds later I opened my eyes to a familiar scene.\n\nI stood in my workshop looking at a hunched over figure. The figure worked with a furious determination. His hands flew across his notebook jotting down important notes and equations. I chuckled to myself for that in fact was me. I shook my head.\nTwo of myself can't exist at a single time. There is room for only one to exist. I was going to kill myself.\n\nI pulled out my knife. It cast a blue glow in the poorly lit room. Before the old me had a chance to react I sprinted across the room and plunged the knife into my heart. The old me evaporated into dust. \n\nI grinned. My plan was executed flawlessly. I looked down at the notebook I had so furiously been working on and laughed. I tossed it into the fireplace on my way out the door. \nI had an invention to sell... \n \n\n\n\n", "\"Uncle, why didn't you file a patent when you finished it? It takes a few hours at most.\" Ableton sighed, pressing his palms into his forehead.\n\n\"That's time taken away from creating, Ableton. Why should I waste precious hours in mundanities when the world offers so much beyond the organizations of men?\" Piotr clapped twice, and gears started turning, generating a magnetic field. As the gears cranked faster, the glass bulbs above them flickered and burned to life - a lost, rediscovered relic of Nikola Tesla's laboratory a century before.\n\n\"You are living on welfare. Any of your last ten inventions would have made you a millionaire, probably a hundred times over. Your offhanded suggestions to those scientists in Boston won them a Nobel prize. Surely you care somewhat to reap the rewards of your genius.\"\n\n\"I don't care for honors. They are made by men to congratulate other men on what wonderful work they have all done. Hardly noble. I've got the prize right here. The prize is doing the work, discovering what secrets nature begs to tell us, and harnessing them to bend the laws of physics and chemistry. Besides, my latest invention will cure all of your concerns.\" Piotr lit a flame under a flask of clear liquid and retreated to the cabinet.\n\n\"Does it fill out your provisional patents?\" Ableton sneered.\n\n\"Far better than that - it defies the laws of physics as we know them today.\" Piotr returned to the boiling flask with a mug and loose leaf tea in a steel ball, pouring himself a cup. \"Tea?\"\n\n\"It's a time machine, isn't it?\" Ableton took the cup.\n\n\"If you would crudely describe it as such.\" Piotr dropped a block of dry ice into his own cup, jostled it around, and took a sip. \"Step over to the capsule and take a look inside.\"\n\nAbleton pulled down the handle, which emitted the hiss of air rushing through vents into a vacuum chamber. The door unlocked and opened a moment later. \"This is incredible, uncle Piotr. The craftsmanship and engineering suggests you've had the entire team at, I don't know, SpaceX working on this.\"\n\n\"IBM, actually. Very good eye.\"\n\n\"How can you afford to build these things anyway?\" Ableton raised an eyebrow.\n\n\"Is it not obvious? I go back in time every time someone makes a fortune on my inventions, and I buy stock when they go public. And for any invention that doesn't go well, I go back in time and stop myself from wasting time on it.\"\n\nAbleton paused for a moment. \"So you intentionally give your inventions away?\"\n\n\"How else do you think I have time to invent these things?\" Piotr sipped his tea.\n\nAbleton scratched his chin. \"Why don't you care for the fame and honor of being known? You're the greatest inventor since Leonardo da Vinci and scientist since Isaac Newton, and your neighbors call the police because they suspect you're building a meth laboratory.\"\n\n\"I have done that.\"\n\n\"But no one knows who you are! They deserve to know the truth.\"\n\nPiotr shrugged. \"The ideas will last for a millenia. The inventions will lay the foundation for further innovation atop them. The cycle of human ingenuity moves forever forward. I, the human who designed them, will die. What need do I or anyone else have for honors then?\"\n\nAbleton thought for a moment, until he decided he was content with his uncle's answer. He sipped his tea, looked once more at the time machine, and back to his uncle.\n\n\"The time machine doesn't work, does it?\"\n\n\"It's a meat locker. I thought the hooks gave it away.\"", "There is no one I hate more than Zinbeil. No one as arrogant, as asinine, and as outright audacious as him- and yet, he's managed to outsmart me at every turn. Each time I create an invention, he's at the patent office first, touting an ever so slightly modified version of my design. \n\nMy first invention was a Freezewave- a microwave that made food cold instead of hot near instantly. But when I brought the design to the patent clerk, she pointed to a design submitted two days before. I gritted my teeth as I recognized my own hard work, my own creation replicated near word for word. That invention had earned millions- millions I could have spent upon new inventions, but instead went to Zinbeil, who eagerly accepted the stolen money. \n\nMy next invention was a teleportation gun. As soon as the last screw was set, I teleported myself to the patent office. Guess who was already there? A smirking Zinbeil.\n\n\"What's wrong, Twen?\" He laughed, twirling his own teleportation gun on his index finger, the clerk flinching back as the barrel spun in her direction, \"You'll have to stand behind me in line- I just got here ten minutes ago, courtesy of my new invention!\"\n\n\"How?\" I stuttered in shock, reevaluating my home's ramped up defenses in my mind. Ever since he had taken my first invention, I had reinforced my lab to be stronger than Fort Knox, and had my internet routed through more countries than were in the EU to derail spies. It should have been impossible to penetrate.\n\n\"Sheer brilliance,\" he responded, his voice mocking, \"One day, maybe you'll have a touch of it!\"\n\nThen he blasted a wormhole into the air, and stepped through, leaving me and my recently outdated invention behind.\n\nIt happened with my shrink ray. Then my antigravity sphere. And even my flying car! Ninety-nine inventions he stole from me, until he walked in the circles the richest men on earth, receiving their praise as if he had been the creator. But for invention number one hundred, I wouldn't let him win.\n\nSo I created a time machine, and traveled back in time to right before I had created the first invention he had stolen, my Freezewave. And on his way into the patent office, I captured Zinbeil., shrinking him down to the size of a baseball with my shrink ray and putting him into my pocket, then locking him in a hamster cage at my home.\n\n\"You think you're so smart,\" I asked as he sat behind bars, reclining on a hamster wheel, \"You think you can steal my invention and get away with it? Well, you don't know it yet, but you stole ninety eight others before I became so fed up I traveled back in time to stop you!\"\n\n\"You did?\" He said, with the same smile on his face as when he stole an invention, \"Oh, how clever of your, Twen.\"\n\n\"What are you smiling about?\" I asked, suspicious, \"I've foiled your plan. I've won!\"\n\n\"Have you though?\" He asked, \"Maybe you should travel back into the future, and see just how well you are doing. Five years should do, go on, you don't have to go the full twenty that you traveled back.\"\n\n\"How, how did you know how long I traveled back in time?\"\n\n\"That's not important right now,\" He answered, and made a shooing motion, \"Go on! I'll be here when you get back.\"\n\nI frowned, and did as he said, traveling five years in the future, excited to see all that I had accomplished without Zinbeil in my way. My time machine landed in my front yard and when I stepped out, my eyes widened.\n\nOvergrown plants clustered throughout the yard. In the driveway was a Ferrari, the side scraped in a fender bender but never replaced. So I crept forward and stared in the window to my living room and saw myself passed out on the couch. I'd gained weight- at least forty pounds, and usually at this time I would be hard at work in the lab instead of napping. Then I slid inside the door, careful not to awaken myself, and snuck into my lab.\n\nI should have had twenty inventions along with several more in production in the five years! But my shelves were bare, all except for my first invention, the Freezewave. And even that was dusty, as if I hadn't touched it in years.\n\nSo time traveled back, to where Zinbeil was still trapped in the hamster cage, my voice shaking with anger as I spoke.\n\n\"What, what did you do to me? In the future, how did you sabotage me?\"\n\n\"Me? I did nothing to you, you did that to yourself! You see, after you received the money from the Freezewave, you grew complacent. You bought a new car, went on a few vacations, got yourself into some serious debt by the end of the first year. And you grew soft, Twen. You stopped working- heck, without someone to push you along, you didn't do anything at all!\"\n\n\"What do you mean,\" I said, \"When you were stealing my inventions, I kept making more of them. No one helped me then.\"\n\n\"Ah, but I did,\" He protested, \"I kept you on your toes! I kept you moving, kept you chasing the prize in order to beat me, your enemy! You see, Twen, I'm the reason you are who you are. And I want to show you something, your one hundred and first invention.\"\n\n\"You already stole that too?\" I hissed, \"I haven't even created it!\"\n\n\"Precisely. It's your most important one, though. I call it, you call it, the Masker! It does only one thing, and that is to disguise a face of the person holding it. Right now, I'm turning it off.\" Then he pulled a small device from his pocket, tapping a button as I watched the skin over his face morph. And I gasped as I recognized the face, as I saw my own face staring back from where his had been.\n\n\"For you see, Twen, I never was Zinbeil. I am you from the future, using the time machine you just created. And now, it's time for you to become Zinbeil and to go steal some of your past inventions. Your good, our good, depends on it.\"\n\nThen he smiled, and winked, and pulled his teleportation gun out to exit the cage. And after an hour of thought, I began drawing up plans for invention one hundred and one. \n\nThe Masker.\n\n***\n\nBy Leo\n\nIf you enjoy Sci FI, check out my best work, [The Bridge](https://leonardpetracci.com/2016/08/03/the-bridge/). The premise is a starship is struck by an asteroid on its way to colonize a distant planet. Now, hundreds of years later, the inhabitants must learn to survive deep space without technology or perish. " ]	7
	[WP] After inventing a portal gun device you point it into the stars and fire. An hour later the portal opens, oxygen readings are the first thing you notice.	[ "The portal gun was 10 tonnes of shining engineering marvel, hidden in a lab on the outskirts of crisis-torn Guayana City. While the good people of Venezuela toiled outside struggling to get the basic necessities, we have instantaneously travelled to the Moon and Mars, and even ruined a perfectly good containment chamber with the acid from Venusian atmosphere. \n\nNow came the time for the ultimate test. Doctor Brown selected a random point in the sky and began the procedure “Doctor Smith, please verify the safety settings for the tunneling”.\n\n“Gravity between oh point five and one point three g’s. Pressure between 750 millibar and 1300 millibar. Temperature below 75 degrees Celsius on automatic, between 75 and 300 Celsius on manual override” I red from my display “Please confirm Mister Jones”.\n\n“Confirmed and locked in. Over to you Doctor Brown”\n\n“On my mark gentlemen” Brown’s voice kept steady “three, two, one…”\nThe three of us turned our keys in unison. After months of intense work, the effect was anticlimactic; there was neither sound nor flash, only a black circle appeared on the target wall in front of the gun. But that was only the beginning, as we confirmed that the tunnel was stable a robotic crane was already removing the gun to replace it with a probe launch tube. \n\nBy now it was almost routine, the torpedo-like probe vanished with a loud pop of compressed air and in a few seconds a limited telemetry arrived back. It was so frustrating, waiting for minutes for the bits to slowly trickle back through the barrier, we have discussed at length using a tether but that was exactly what caused the Venus incident. We should have a capsule return on the next probe, but that one was still in the workshop. Finally the wait was over, preliminary report arrived.\n\n“Probe in water, gravity almost exactly 1g, atmospheric pressure 1100 millibar, temperature 23 centigrade” I stopped surprised “Doctor Brown, this must be an error! The probe reports condition too similar to Earth!”\n\n“Jones, Smith, initiate return and ask technical to prepare a spare”.\n\nI was going to reply, but managed to stop myself, it would do nobody any good to aggravate Doctor Brown at this time, so I commanded the small craft to return home, however after about 30 minutes it sent an error code – unable to find route to portal, and shortly after that it stopped responding at all. \n\nSecond probe went through, and returned same readings before it too stopped responding. Just before ten in the evening, the three of us met our investors in a videoconference room to discuss our options.\n\n“Two probes failing in an Earth-like world is no coincidence, gentlemen” Doctor Brown started “unless there is a failure in the software, returning false data, we might be dealing with a first contact situation”. \n\n“Doctor Brown, this research is not meant for this purpose. It is of course a breakthrough, but our goal is a cheap transportation network and mining of the resources of our solar system” said an elderly African woman on the screen “my company will not finance it, please close the tunnel or at least secure it until your research brings marketable results. I will…“\n\n“That’s bullshit Martha, and you know it” interrupted a Norwegian shipping magnate “You are afraid of the little green people” he laughed “The probes are probably just buggy, take a few of the poor fuckers from outside, shove them in there together with a dinghy and tell them to retrieve the probes! And if we have a first contact” he laughed again “let them bring me some alien technology!” \n\n\"That's no...\" I switched the autopilot on, answering only when there was a technical question.\n\nDiscussion lasted long into the early hours of the next day, and we had to agree to send another probe as soon at the engineers could finish it. If it failed to return or there was indeed a first contact situation the tunnel was to be mothballed until a final decision could be made. Although it wasn’t my preferred outcome, I was relieved that the tunnel would be kept open. I went to my quarters and fell on my bed already asleep, as the months of pressure finally caught up with me. \n\nI slept until ten in the morning, if it wasn’t for a call from Jones I would probably spend all day in bed. Still groggy I’ve sent it to voicemail, and took a shower. About twenty minutes later I arrived into the control room to find it in chaos. People were shouting at each other, the spare probe laid on its side thrown from its cradle and an airlock to the containment chamber was wide open.\n\n“Smith, it is soooo good to see you here. I hope you've slept well.” Brown’s face was red with fury “I don’t suppose you know anything about Mister Jones’ plan?”\n\n“What has he done?” I asked\n\n“Bloody fool went through! Three hours ago he took a manned craft and went through! And now he is dead!”\n\n“How?”\n\n“Aliens, probably! Techies say they received partial transmission, but it was cut short.”\n\n“That’s strange. He just called me less than half an hour ago!” I took my phone to show Doctor Brown, but stopped halfway, as a text message caught my attention.\n\n \nSmith, be a friend and get my passport from my room and push it through the portal. Indonesians are PITA. Tell that c**t that he managed to miss every piece of matter in an infinite universe. TTYL. Thanks. \n", " Four years and a few month of waiting or at least that's how long it was suppose to take. The odds were practically impossible. It was nothing short of a miracle having to compensate for the rotation of the Earth, predicting where it was and where it would be, and even then there was the possibility of just hitting a rogue object. Everyone agreed it was a long shot both literally and figuratively, but none of that mattered now. It worked. It was amazing. Before we even opened the solid containment for the entry portal, it showed fascinating readings. There's was no significant change in pressure. There was no significant change in gas composition from the samples we took. Both of these meant it had a livable atmosphere. It also meant we hit land rather than it landing in a deep ocean. It raised more questions than answers, but humanity has always been a race of explorers. Especially now, it didn't matter if it was unreal. We needed something, and here it was. \n\n After a few more days of deliberation from higher ups and testing and data recording, it was decided we should still go through. Now here my team stood just outside the gargantuan containment dome. The massive door slowly groaned open, and there it was sitting on the wall right where our team placed it just an hour before. We could see a beach with deep brown sand and fine blue ocean whose waves lapped against the shore. Further in all readings nominal, no significant signs of radiation from the Geiger counter, no appearance of wildlife. I had won the straw draw, so I got to go first. This was it. The step through the glowing blue portal. One far step for man, one saving step for mankind.\n\n\nEdit:realized didn't perfectly follow prompt fixed it some. Any and all feedback welcome" ]	2
	[WP] The AMA of a Time Traveler	[ "He entered the room with big bag of chips in his hands. In front of him sat 6 people, 3 girls and 3 guys. He opened the bag of chips and grabbed a hand full. \"Welcome to time Time Travel Academy. TTA for short. \n\nCan anyone tell me the first rule of time travel?\"\n\nA nerdy looking girl with big glasses raised her hand. The teacher ignored her and instead pointed to the guy next to her who appeared to be half sleep. \"The first rule is know when you are?\"\n\nThe man stuffed the hand full of chips in his mouth and mumbled,\"What's your name?\"\n\nThe guy answered,\"Jacob Mills.\"\n\nWith his mouth half empty he spoke. \"Jacob mills is an idiot. The first rule is never use your real name. You want to use a common first name and a common last name?\"\n\nJacob lowered in his chair a little. He didn't really know why he was there, but everything about time fascinated him. It had only been a few months since he submitted his paper to the government. He never believed in time travel, but the idea fascinated him.\n\nThe man continued eating his chips. \"Well, its my job to make sure you idiots don't destroy time. So if you have any questions, I will answer them now. I have been time traveling for the last 20 years.\"\n\nThe eyes of the girl with glasses lit up like fire. \"Are we in the future, past, or present?\"\n\nHe shook his bag grabbing for crumbs. \"Do you know what future means? For me this is the past, I come from my present and the future is the current present. Most of you don't know is that there are different versions of time. There is true time that is always moving forward and cannot be changed. I am not here to explain all that to you. If you join the school, we will be glad to educate you.\"\n\nA woman in military uniform looked around at the other students. \"Are we all from the same timeline?\"\n\nHe crumbled the bag up and stuffed it into his pocket. \"You are all from different time lines and one of you is an alien.\"\n\nJacob looked puzzled. \"So we finally colonized Mars?\"\n\nThe man walked back to the wall and leaned against it. \"I guess you might not be as dumb as you appear. Earth did colonize Mars first, but the alien is from Venus. Right John?\"\n\nJohn wasted no time in answering. \"Venus is my home, but I came to Earth to learn about its culture. On my planet, I am a historian. Why do time travelers exist?\"\n\nThe man yawned a little. He didn't feel like answering questions, but he was on strict punishment from killing 3 time pirates. The only reason he hadn't been erased was because he created a time computer that \nwould self-destruct if anything happened to him. He waited a full minute and answered the question. \"This is kind of like the chicken and the egg. Time is not what you think it is. It isn't about what came first and \nwhat came last. Time is about space, matter, movement and a lot of stuff you kids don't understand. Time travelers exist to stabilize time for humans.\"\n\n\"I get it\",blurted out one girl. Her voice was squeaky. \"Three girls, three guys, three teams. Your school is a military school that defends time. You must be close to retirement. How does a time traveler retire?\"\n\nThe man smiled as he realized he had met a true genius. \"I go replace my time double and live out my life as if I was never a time traveler. You kiddies need to think of some questions that aren't boring. I am going to go the little boys room and when I get back, I expect this AMA to be better.\"\n\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] You enter the room next to yours in a hotel by mistake. Inside, four men in black suits and one says to you "Finally you've arrived, we were waiting an eternity".	[ "It was the intensity of their straight-faced expressions and several long seconds of holding-seriousness in their eyes which led me, mostly a comic, to figure they were merely going along with the guy who'd spoken.\n\nThinking I'd earn accolades of some sort from perfect strangers, I answered in somber congruence with, \"Gentlemen, you have no idea. 'What's kept me?' I'm sure you're going to ask.\"\n\nSomehow I knew it was going to a quarter-second before it happened, but one of them--the one with the hoarse voice I found out--stood up. Slowly. Calmly.\n\nI hadn't noticed, but my palms were sweating. In Februrary. Inside this unheated building in New York. It'd been glacial outside for ten weeks.\n\nSomething told me to jet, but I figured I could always do that. Furthering my simultaneous fun and stark terror, I spoke before I knew what I was saying.\n\n\"The important thing is that you remain assembled as you exit, and split only after you've rounded the immediate corner downstairs on the southeast.\"\n\nAnd as I braced inwardly to bearing myself for a doorgrab and run, I continued in full steady speech with, \"One of you--Do NOT indicate to me which--but one of you is to purchase a manila envelope from the drugstore/cafe a block further east after all have turned said corner. The other three simply return to your original transportation from earlier, which--\"\n\nThen I was cut off.\n\n\"Who do you suppose we are?\" the eldest and still-seated asked in the most macabre tone I've ever heard in real life.\n\nSomehow as by miracle, as I scanned all their eyes, my reply was, \"This is not in my scope. My capacity is to redirect this meeting, and now.\" In looking at my watch, I nodded at them in playing-out my seriousness.\n\n\"Once you've exited the drugstore with your manila envelope in a bag provided by the clerk, you're to look inside the bag, and acknowledge ever so subtly that you've noticed something else is in it. This will indicate the waiting driver for the next step.\"\n\nThe four were motionless, and the guy standing wanted to sit but didn't because just then, the suddenly apparent leader spoke.\n\nIf you're curious about what his words were, we can find out together.\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] You find a genie who will grant you three wishes, but he has really bad hearing	[ " \"What's that?\"\n My archaeological team stared at me with amazement and curiosity with what I found.\n \"It's some sort of cast bronze\", I said. \"Maybe if we brush it up, we could see what it really is. John, the brush, please.\"\n John gave me the brush, and I gave the artifact a brushing. Suddenly, the bronze rattled and became warmer, then it got so heavy that I dropped the metal. When it hit the floor, a red cloud emanated from it. The red cloud hit the tent's ceiling and stayed there, coalescing into a humanoid shape. Soon after, a man with six wings came down from the cloud.\n \"I am the Elder Genie. I can grant you three wishes,\" said the winged man.\n Johnny, ever so naïve, quickly said, \"Give me a ton of pure gold.\" The genie agreed, and said to us to go outside. And what a sight! A mountain of coal sat in front of us.\n \"There. A ton of coal.\"\n \"But I said gold, not coal.\"\n \"Oh, sorry. I misheard. Now, two wishes left.\"\n Stephanie, following Johnny's footsteps, quickly said, \"Make me fly, please.\" The genie said yes, and immediately gave her a pork pie.\n \"I didn't know what pie to make, so I made my favourite,\" said the genie.\n \"But I said 'make me fly'...\"\n \"Misheard again. Last wish!\"\n Before any village idiot had a chance to speak, I did. \"Help us find the lost city.\"\n \"I already found it,\" said the genie.\n \"Really? Where?\"\n \"Here,\" said the genie, giving me a white kitty.\n \"Sir, I said the lost city, not the lost kitty!\" I protested.\n \"Misheard. Goodbye.\"\n That must be the most worthless genie in the whole world.\n ", "\"He misheard you, it seems\" the dove told me.\n\nGetting a dove that only speaks truths isn't a horrible outcome, sure. I thought to myself, scratching my head. It wasn't quite what I wanted. I would have solved this whole problem by writing my wishes and handing them to him instead, but there had been a problem with the first wish as well.\n\n\"Where are you?!\" cried the genie. \n\"I'm over here!\" I answered. \n\"What?\" he asked.\n\nI sighed, my first wish had been for wealth and now he couldn't find me. Standing there confused, it took me a while to realize the problem lay with his hearing. Standing there unnoticed, feeling that it would be a rather lonely existence I had made my second wish. I was at a loss, but atleast I had someone to ask for advice for now.\n\n\"What should my third wish be for?\" I asked the true dove. \n\"You wish to see war?\" asked the genie. \n\"No!\" I yelled. \n\"Yes!\" yelled the true dove.\n\nNow, as the bullets fly overhead, the dove whispers in my ear how they plot against me. I walk unseen in the trenches of my foes.", "[A man, RICK BARTON, stands in front of a genie, clutching a piece of worn, tea-stained paper. On it is a design of a mill.]\n\nRICK: This isn't at all what I asked for.\n\n[The genie, OLD MAN GEEJA, digs a pinkie into his ear. He's got the lost, forgotten stare typical of demented old men in senior citizen homes.]\n\nGEEJA: I 'ave a grandson like you, you know. He ne'er visits.\n\nRICK: Sorry to hear that, truly. But can you explain to me where my wish is? This..I don't even know what this is.\n\nGEEJA Eh? It's yer mill. The one ye asked fer.\n\n[He looks at the schematics of his mill. On the bottom right it says DALLAS.]\n\nRICK: No, I asked for a million dollars. This isn't a million dollars.\n\nGEEJA: Fine wish that, a mill. Hard work, toilin' in the fields...respectable. Right respectable.\n\nRICK: Sure, yeah. But I didn't ask for a mill. I asked for a million dollars. As in, cash money. As in, hookers and cocaine money. I can't buy hookers or cocaine with a fucking mill.\n\n[Geeja looks at Rick with hollow eyes. He nods after a bit.]\n\nGEEJA: Ah, I mis 'eard you. I'll fix et. \n\nRICK: Finally, thank you. Gods, it's like talking to a wall. \n\n[Geeja waves his hands in the air. He says something in Arabic]\n\nGEEJA: Akhla flakla arabica falafel. Ask and ye shall receive.\n\n[A blinding flash of white light. When Rick opens his eyes again, the schematics to the mill in dallas are gone. He looks down, and realizes he has a hook hand and a propane canister.]\n\nRICK: Oh for fuck's sake. \n\n[Geeja puffs his chest proudly.]\n\nGEEJA Ya like it? It's pretty good, in me 'umble opinion.\n\n[Rick kicks the propane canister back.]\n\nRICK: You gave me a fucking hook hand and propane!\n\nGEEJA: No, I din't. Ya ne'er once wished for 'ookers and cocaine.\n\nRICK: Wha - are you fucking deaf?\n\nGEEJA: Nay, I 'aven't died yet. \n\nRICK: Jesus H. Christ, you are deaf. Just my luck, to get a deaf genie. Just my fucking...\n\n[Rick looks down again. He pauses, perplexed. Horror fills across his face.]\n\nRICK: Holy fucking shit my hand is a hook. \n\nGEEJA: Dirty, dirty man. A 'and in a hooker's fanny, ya get pinched by the crab if ye catch me drift -\n\nRICK: FUCK, FUCK, FUCK.\n\n[Rick holds his hook hand with his other hand. He grips it intensely.]\n\nRICK: Why the hell did you change my hand into a hook? Who would want that? WHO?\n\nGEEJA: It's what ye wished fer.\n\nRICK: I MASTURBATE WITH THIS HAND, YOU OLD IRISH SHIT. \n\nGEEJA: Good, now ye can circumcise like a good catholic.\n\n[Geeja digs through his ear again. He nods.]\n\nGEEJA: Ye want a circumscription as yer third wish?\n\nRICK: NO! God no, just - just let me think. Go be old sack of shit over there.\n\n[Geeja nods and goes over to the wall, staring at the stucco vacantly, old sack of shit-esque.]\n\nRICK: (whispered to himself) Okay, okay. I don't have a hand anymore. That's fine, that's fine. I can just ask him to take it back...fuck, that uses my last wish though. Fuck.\n\n[He thinks for a second. He shakes his head.]\n\nRICK: No, I'm not wasting this opportunity. I can live with a hook hand. This is more important.\n\n[Rick looks at Geeja. Geeja has drool pooling at the corner of his mouth.]\n\nRICK: Alright, I've got my final wish.\n\n[Geeja turns around, a bit too quickly – he winces visibly from his back pain. Because, you know, all old people have back pain.]\n\nGEEJA: Alright. Les 'ear it.\n\nRICK: Hell no, you're not hearing it. You're gonna fuck it up. No, I'm gonna write it inn -\n\n[Rick pulls his notebook and a pen out of his pocket.]\n\nRICK: ..my journal.\n\nGEEJA: Diary.\n\nRICK: Shut the fuck up.\n\n[Rick writes. He ponders for a second, and tears it out, giving it to Geeja. Geeja looks at the piece of paper, then nods.]\n\nGEEJA: Alright. I got et.\n\n[Rick almost claps his hands, then pauses just before impact. He just nods instead. Rick then closes his eyes.]\n\nRICK: Ready when you are.\n\n[Geeja waves his hands magic-like and the air becomes cooler. He snaps his fingers, and there is a shift in the air in the room. In the darkness behind his eyelids, Rick can hear Chopin playing.]\n\n[Rick opens his eyes. In front of him stands a foot tall midget playing “Nocturne Number 2” on a tiny piano. He's getting really into it.]\n\n[Rick is shocked. He pulls the waist of his jeans forward and looks at his crotch, then looks back at Geeja.]\n\nRICK: Fuck you.\n\n[Geeja smirks.]\n\nGEEJA: Wha' ever do ye mean?\n\nRICK: How did you possibly fuck it up? I wrote it down for you and everything, there is absolutely no way you could've given me...a twelve inch pianist. Absolutely no fucking way you could've -\n\n[Geeja stops Rick with a hand. He smirks wide and cocky, the confusion gone from his eyes.]\n\nGEEJA: Ah, ye see...it turns out, I'm dyslexic too." ]	3
	[WP] "Bir Tawil" the only spot on the Earth left unclaimed by any country. After the long journey to claim it for yourself, you discover the real reason no country has dared to claim it.	[ "\"I claim this land for...\" I try to stick the flagpole into the ground. \"I claim this land for..\" I try again. Nothing. Solid. I look around, looking to put my flag somewhere. Spotting what looks like a negotiable mountainside, I put the flagpole under my arm and being to climb. \n\nGetting a foothold was easy. A handhold? Not so much. But, I can do this. I finally get up about a foot high, and confidently stick the flagpole into the side of the mountain. \n\nA groan, and I feel myself, and the mountain, quickly being lifted. I wildly grip the flagpole, trying not to fall to my death. \n\nEyes.\n\nTwo eyes glaring at me. \n\nI now know why this land has yet been claimed.\n\n*Note; I'm sorry, this wasn't very good. D:", "“So, what brings you here?” she asked, eyes on the road. We were in a old toyota, but it was the only ride I could find to Bir Tawil. The locals seemed wary of visitors like me, but I suppose that’s to be expected. “Haven’t you already guessed? I’m going to claim Bir Tawil as my own.” I replied, looking out the window. I didn’t expect her to understand right away, so I began to explain when she furrowed her eyebrows and gave me a skeptical(but cute) look. \n\n“Well, I literally won the lottery about an year ago. Pretty surprising, yeah. I didn’t start living lavishly or anything, but just quit my job and stayed home. I spent my days indolantly, playing video games and watching anime. My friend, who had nurtured a distaste for my ‘way of life’, told me I should travel the world just because I had the money to. I wasn’t very interested at first, but then he told me about Bir Tawil and I got pretty curious. After googling a few things out, I figured out that I could claim this land and have it recognised as an independant state by the UN after going through a few procedures and reaching a set minimum population here. It probably sounds weird, but to be honest I have nothing better to do anyway.”\nThe car stopped after a few moments then, and she told me we had reached. It was pretty. All I could see were green fields filled with the occasional bunch of flowers and butterflies.\n\nIt was very pretty. \n\nAfter spending quite a while walking around with Vanessa and asking her questions about Bir Tawil, I was utterly perplexed to why this place wasn’t a part of Ireland. It is right next to the border, and i doubt it would matter much to anybody if it was. After scratching my head for a while, I just gave up and sat there. It seems too good to be true, but maybe I’m just lucky. “I want to build a house andlive here. No, a small village for all my friends and family” I thought out loud. It was so……. Green. Refreshing, breath-taking, absolutely beautiful. \n\n“Is that so?” she asked, with a smirk on her face. There was something she wasn’t telling me, but I doubt it could be very important. We sat together for a while and chit chatted about our lives. The village she lives in is actually more of a city, with that insanely fast google fibra thing some places have nowadays. I was very jealous, but I don’t think I let it show. \n\nI heard a ping from my phone, and I looked at it to notice that I had pretty decent data signal strength.God bless Airtel. I walked around with it for a while, but I couldn’t find anything. Truely peculiar. After asking her about it, she just replied with an all knowing shrug and a sadistic grin. \n\nI called it a day and returned to my lodge. My nagging curiosity was picking away at me, so I stayed awake googling things. It took me a while, but at least I finally figured it out.\n\nPokemon Go doesn’t work in bloody Bir Tawil." ]	2
	[WP] You're the first person to ever record yourself climbing Mount Everest solo. But, it appears you have company; all the corpses that never made it are now making their undead ascent.	[ "At first, I thought I was hallucinating; they were figures in the distance - never close enough to distinguish any features. A figment of my imagination to cope with the barrenness of the mountain. That was until I met Bob. I call him that because of the way his head bobs side to side when he walks. The others walk a lot like him, I suppose, but he was the first one to actually get near me.\n\nYou never know what you're made of until you're facing death in the face. That was the reason I went on this trip, actually. Climbing Mount Everest solo, the first one to do it, has been hailed as a suicide mission. After being on the brink of suicide for years, this trip gave me purpose. But, staring Bob in the face for the first time gave me a new appreciation for what I had.\n\nTurns out I can get over the fear of death pretty quick. Death comes for us all, eventually. Bob was coming for me. He had bobbed his way out of the construing snowstorm and into my camp, eyes frozen open. He walked right at me. My body was frozen, too, but not from the cold. Fear gripped me tighter than the ice-cycles hanging from Bob's arms. He continued to walk towards me, his frostbitten appendages cracking in the wind.\n\nAnd then, he walked right past me. Or, bobbed, really. It was a slow process. I stared at him, as unblinking as he, until his figure disappeared into the snowstorm as slowly as it had appeared. I caught up with Bob and his friends the next day. There was a group of them spread out along the ridge-line heading up the mountain.\n\nTheir path made it easier for me to go up the mountain; I was following in the footsteps of the ones who had gone before me. I followed them all the way up the mountain, passing each of them until I was nearly neck and neck with Bob. He was almost to the top when he stopped. He didn't look at me. \n\nHe was staring at the peak. I waited. He didn't move. I took a step to the side of him. He didn't move. I looked behind me and saw our trail. Before us lay untrod snow. I stepped in front of him. He didn't move. I continued the final paces to the pinnacle of Mount Everest. There was no applaud, no fanfare; just me and the top of the mountain.\n\nWhen I turned back, Bob was no longer standing. He head, shoulders, and one arm was protruding from the snow. It was as if he been there for many, many years. Maybe he had. He never said." ]	1
	[Wp] When a rat is more than just a rat, call Magic Pest Control	[ "They don't call me for the little jobs. No one phones me because they've got termites in the attic, or a mousehole in the skirting board. No one calls me because their house has unexplained scratching noises in the wall, or because there are droppings in the pantry. In fact, homeowners don't call me much at all. \n\nHomeowners tend to call the regular exterminators. They call when the regular, store-bought slug pellets don't have any effect. They call when the rats are tracking through the poison without stopping for a taste. Essentially, homeowners call exterminators when the problem has gotten a little out of hand. When it's beyond their ability to deal with it. \n\nI get the call when exterminators are in the same situation. Their traps and poisons aren't working. The slugs keep coming back, despite everything they do. When they're dealing with a bigger infestation of bigger things than they can sort on their own. \n\nHumans live surrounded by vermin. You're never more than fifty metres from a rat. The biomass of all the ants in the world far outweighs that of all the humans. There are countless parasites and fungi and crawling things everywhere, on every continent, in every city and every home. And some of those slimy, scabrous things are truly, truly strange. \n\nThere are slugs that ooze together, forming into a single larger slug, pooling their strength. There are cave bats who don't just use sound to navigate, but consume it, stealing the words from your mouth and flooding your home with silence. There are rats with uncountable legs, the ground beneath them blurring as they walk. \n\nYour average exterminator doesn't have a way of dealing with such things. They have a list of poisons a yard long, but it doesn't list any ways to kill shuffling, predatory rugs. They stock all the latest trap designs, but no trap ever built can cage parasitic lightning. \n\nThat's when they call me. The exterminator plenipotentiary, empowered by both local councils and unspeakable pacts to deal with vermin - wherever and whatever it is. I'm the person who knows how to trap sparking electricity in amber, who can play the songs that lead rats scampering and scrabbling into the river. I have a list of poisons two yards long, and half of those are written in ink that shifts as you look at it. \n\nIt's normally an urgent job by the time they call me. First the homeowner tries to fix it on their own, then the exterminator. Then they all spend a while refusing to accept what's really going on. But eventually, the exterminator goes back to his batter van, and delves deep inside a glove box or a wallet for a tattered, red-and-yellow business card - a card given to him, furtively, by another exterminator. A mentor, or a close friend. Someone who's called the number before. \n\nBy then, it's almost too late. Almost. It's generally a bit of a battle - fur and scales and feathers flying everywhere. I have to use every trick in the book sometimes, try every strategy, even the ridiculous ones. But I've been doing this a while now, and my book of tricks has a lot of pages in it. \n\nIf you end up needing me, give me a call. If you've got magpies that steal dreams, or ants who build nests backwards in time, pick up the phone. You won't regret it. My rates are very reasonable. " ]	1
Assume nothing interferes with the duel. Pull the feelings and emotions of both of you.	[WP] The Force and Lightsabers exist in Modern Day Earth. You and your friend have perfected it, but to your surprise s/he falls to the dark side and you enter a duel.	[ "It all started at comic con during a promotional competition. The Star Wars cast and team allowed you to do poses for photos with them, and for fun they had a competition where you could actually win a million dollars and a real lightsaber if you could draw a toy lightsaber to you using only the force. Me and my friend watched many people before us try it, fail, and then have a laugh with the cast. We were both really excited to try. My friend went up first and took pictures with the cast. I had a crush on her so it was hard for me not to admire how sexy she looked as she tried to draw the lightsaber to her. I readied my phone to take her picture for her when the unexpected happened. The toy lightsaber lifted itself off the table and flew towards her. The slapping sound that was created when she caught the lightsaber seemed to command silence from the entire hall, because all the cameras and chatter ceased as they were completely flabbergasted. \n\nFor fun I put my hand up to see if I could do it, and in a miraculous turn of events, the other toy on the table flew into my hands. I suddenly felt a bright connection to my friend, and I could feel connected with the life force that swirled comic con. We won our million dollars and the lightsaber. After that day we both quit our jobs and decided to dedicate our lives to the force. We were given such great gifts, that it'd be stupid not to make the most out of it. My friend was a natural with the force and seemed like a jedi the very first day we practiced. I only managed to pick up light objects from the floor. \n\nWhen she exposed to the world what she could do, she was immediately recruited by the US government. Months went by and she was all you could see on the news. There was footage of her lifting tanks with the force, and repelling bombs. One night a powerful lightning storm killed a camp of terrorists. It was rumored that she caused the lightning storm, but she remained silent on the manner. In the meantime, I had been training. I wasn't making much progress so I decided to take my training to the extreme. I went to the pier one day, I tied a cinder block to my legs and I jumped out into the waters. I dropped slowly into the water and went down all the way to the floor. Using my adrenaline, I was able to use the force to push the water away from me so that I could breath. I tried to simultaneously use the force to untie the knot around my ankle. The next morning I could hardly move and had to take a week off so that my body could recover. When I was better I went back to the pier to repeat my training. I did this over and over until I was able to push the ocean apart like Moses did with the Red Sea. \n\nTo increase the intensity of my training, I traveled to Hawaii and dropped myself into some volcanoes, and did the same thing. Afterwards I focused on my lightsaber training. To train my combat, I would place tennis ball launchers around me, where dusted tennis balls were placed. They would all launch at me randomly, where I would try to hit them with my lightsaber. On the first day I was completely covered in the colored dust that was on the tennis balls. Several months later I was able to come out of training without a speck of dust on me. \n\nI decided to return from isolation and come home, except home wasn't home anymore. I was surprised to find out that my friend had taken control of the world. Authoritarian troops marched down the street and bullied the citizens. Her posters were plastered all over buildings. I hid to allow myself to rest, since I was still raw from training. When I was better, I felt as if my body was very sensitive towards the force. There was an unsettling feeling in my stomach that I hadn't noticed during training. There was a disturbance in the force, and I knew exactly where it was coming from. I didn't want to kill anyone that I didn't have to, so I used the force to trick everyone that I wasn't there. I was able to travel without much fuss, until I reached the palace that my friend had made for herself. \n\nWhen I reached the inside, my friend was there, not the least surprised by my appearance. She said, \"I felt you coming.\" \"I never would have thought that you'd succumb to the dark side.\" I replied. She said, \"If only you knew the power that laid in the dark, but you're too much of a coward to come over. In these circumstances, I'd say your only chance for survival is if you join me in the dark side. You may be the only one that has a chance of defeating me, but it's a very small chance. Unless you join the dark side, I'm not letting you leave here alive.\" \n\nI looked at her beautiful face with sadness. She was not my friend anymore. I took out my lightsaber and charged at her. She used her force to break off the columns of the palace, and then she flung them at me. I used my lightsaber to cut through the first one, I used my force to push away the next, and then I jumped over the last one and forced her to bring out her lightsaber too. From an outsider's perspective it might have seemed as though we were doing a simple sword fight, but our battle was anything but simple. While fighting with lightsabers, we were applying tremendous force against each other. It was like trying to fight while a mountain was trying to crush you. I moved out of the way as a lightning storm breached the palace and landed where I was just standing. \n\nMore lightning came through the palace so I was forced to move out of the way. She threw more columns at me. She had the clear advantage, and it was taking everything I had just to stay alive. She said, \"Can you now see the difference in our powers? The light has to go out at some point, but the darkness is eternal! You cannot run from the darkness, eventually it will consume you!\" It was then that I decided to release my secret techniques. Being in the volcano taught me how to manipulate heat with the force. I released an inordinate amount of fire which consumed the palace, the columns, and created enough smoke to throw off her aim with the lightning. She was caught in the unexpected fire and parts of her body were burnt to a crisp. \n\nWhen the smoke dissipated, I rushed to her body. Parts of her face was burnt, but she still remained beautiful. She reached her hand out to me and said, \"You win, I give up. Just please help me, I'm in so much pain.\" I didn't want to use the force to pick her up since she was in a critical condition. I decided that it was best to use my arms so that I could be more gentle towards her. As I knelt down I noticed her grab her lightsaber. I backed away, but she still took off my hand. I pushed her away with the force, which unintentionally crushed her vital organs, and killed her.\n\nOver the next month, the Earth was restructuring itself back up. Many people wanted me to take my friend's place, but I knew better than anyone that no one should have that power. I only asked that the soldiers that followed my friend could be spared their lives. That wish was granted, though they were forced to spend the rest of their lives in a prison. I was the only one who attended my friend's funeral. Despite everything that happened, I still remembered how she was before we discovered the force. She was a sweet and caring person, and I was sure that she only became the way she did was unaware of what the dark side would do to her. I placed her favorite flowers in the casket with her, along with both of our lightsabers. When the Earth was rebuilt, I traveled around, wiping everyone's memories of the events that transpired. I didn't want anyone else seeking the force, I had hoped that this would protect them from the dark side. It felt it'd be best if they continued to believe that this was all fictional and that it only existed a long time ago, in a galaxy far far away. " ]	1
	[WP] Carved from solid stone, it represented all they stood for.	[ "\"What is it, grandfather?\"\n\nThe child looked up in awe at the great obelisk before them. \n\n\"It's a monument. The elders say it was a tribute to some sort of old God worshipped by our ancestors in the Shining Age. Oaxhin-Tan, I believe, was the name of the God.\"\n\nThe child pondered this revelation for a moment. \"When did they build it?\"\n\nHis grandfather chuckled. \"Oh, they built it a long time ago. Back before the Shining Age, even. Back then, people lived a lot like we do now. At least, that's what the elders say.\"\n\nThe child thought about this. People had lived like they did now? The thought had never occurred to him, but now that he thought about it, it made sense. \"Why did the worship Oaxhin-Tan? What did he do?\"\n\nHis grandfather thought back to his days learning from the elders. \"Back when people first came to this land, they lived under the rule of the Red King Shorse. Oaxhin-Tan came from across the sea to drive the Red King's armies away. They came back a few times, but every time, the followers of Oaxhin-Tan made sure they never won.\"\n\n\"What was he the God of?\"\n\n\"Freedom, equality, justice, and unity. And this was meant to made sure the people of this land never forgot what their kingdom was built on; the blood of the brave men and women who died to defend it. Oaxhin-Tan gave the people these values, and this was their tribute to him. A great tower, five hundred feet tall, carved from solid stone. It represented all they stood for.\"\n\n\"What who stood for?\"\n\n\"Us, my son. That was what they called their kingdom. Because they had their differences, but no matter what, they stood together, because they were one of Us.\"\n\n\"Will it ever be like that again, grandfather?\"\n\nThe old man bent down and picked something up. It was a plate of metal. He had found it in an old ruin many years ago. It brought him bad luck, so he had brought it here, to give it back to the gods of the men who made it. The symbols on the plate were a lost language. Few could read it, and fewer knew what it meant, save for a few very, very old men, granted long life during the Shining Age. \n\n\"Maybe someday, child. Maybe someday.\" \n\nHe placed the plate back where it had been all these years.\n\nAnd with a toothless smile, he walked away with his grandson.", "Carved from solid stone, it represented all that they stood for.\nAll of the knowledge that they had, contained on the large slate.\nTheir hopes and their dreams, everything about their society.\nTheir philosophy and everything they knew about life.\nIt had their history. Their achievements.\nIt had the best of humanity's art.\nIt also had what made humans human.\nEverything about humanity's legacy was written on this slate, carved out from the ground.\n\nThe slate was currently traveling at over 40,000 mph, headed out of the solar system.\n\nIt wasn't a plea for help.\nIt wasn't an invitation to earth.\n\nIt was a call for recognition. Acknowledgment.\nIt was humanity making their mark on the universe.\nIt was them saying \"We were here. Against all odds we formed in the universe and came to be.\"\n\nSpace agencies and scientists around the world had teamed up to send this rocket out as a last attempt to leave their mark.\n\nIt would be the last launch they ever made.\n\nAnd as humanity crumbled and the earth burned, they knew that one day millions of years in the future someone would find this and take the time to decipher it, and slowly find out about the humans.\n\nHumanity would be long gone by the time that happened but it gave them something slightly reminiscent of hope.\nAt least they had made a change in the universe and wouldn't have lived for nothing.\n\nPlease be critical so I can improve." ]	2
	[WP] It's not like the warning signs weren't there. People just refused to look.	[ "“It's not like the warning signs weren't there, people just refused to look!“ Aerian snarled as she readjusted her burden. She was neither right nor wrong in her analysis. The warning signs had indeed been there; the sky had gone dark promptly at noon every day for a week, the ponds in the Gardens of An’Shet turned silver with dead fish while the Gardens themselves were besieged by a virulent and determined black creeper that overgrew everything, a headless dwarf was reported born in the Spalder and is said to have struck the doctor before running out and vanishing into the neighbourhood, the sky dropped feet of snow even though it was the middle of summer, the list goes on.\n\nBut these are things that have happened annually in Keshmet for years, so the history books said, to considerable panic when they initially occurred. Then, as said years went by and nothing happened, they became just like the summer hurricanes; just another damned inconvenience over which there was no control to be endured. Shrug, curse if you were involved, and move on with life. Except for the one time the signs actually meant something.\n\nHaving just escaped the cataclysmic destruction of a major city I was in no mood to hear Aerian gloat. She had a partial right to rub this one right in our faces, having made her many objections known when we signed on as “Security Consultants” for the Kingpriest of Keshmet, but she was the most brutal pessimist among us and always assumed everything would go tits up. \n\nVadik was in no mood to hear it either and wasn’t as shy about letting her know. “Just shut up and keep walking. And maybe next time work some of your voodoo and give us something more concrete than your usual moaning!” The bait was obvious to us old hands; Aerian has never claimed magical clairvoyance among her sorcerous talents, at least not when she wasn’t trying to make a few coppers off the superstitious, and Vadik has been with the Company longer than both Aerian and myself. The pair are mutually acrimonious to each other, but there have been incidents between them in the past that have triggered debate as to whether they’re genuine in their dislike or if they just want to find a quiet room and fuck each sore.\n\nObvious bait or not Aerian was ready for a fight, one we couldn’t afford given our situation. “Both of you cut that shit out! We need to get clear of the city and don’t have time to deal with one of your marital tiffs!” I used my best officer voice and gave them both a look I learned from an old drill sergeant on the other side of the world, and it only served to focus their animosity on me. Being the Senior NCO in a disaster with no higher authority present comes with some unpleasant duties, one of which is actually having to be in charge of the lives of everyone under you. And speaking of being in charge of other lives….\n\n“Y’ okay back there kiddo?” As I turned back to the road and as Aerian and Vadik loudly cast aspersions on everything from my ancestry to my character I glanced over my shoulder at the child riding piggyback. She was a scraggly wisp of a girl; A pale hazel-eyed brunette who, if she’d had the fortune to not be born on the streets, would grow up to have a face wars would be fought over. Right now that face was dirty, tear-stained and terrified, showing all the emotions one would expect to see on the face of a child who’d seen their world end. She lifted her head and met my look with haunted eyes.\n\nMaybe it was because she was tougher than she looked, maybe it was because she wanted to seem that way, but she nodded. “I’m okay mister Dom.”\n\nThat got a frown from me. “How many times I gotta tell you to drop the mister thing? I’m not old enough to be a mister.” An old gripe of mine, and a habit of hers she steadfastly refused to drop. \n\nGrabbing the kids as we escaped Keshmet had been a suicidal insistence of mine. We had employed them as spies and lookouts in exchange for food, coin, even shelter in a section of the barracks for the ones the Captain decided were trustworthy enough, and most of them had done right by us once they realized we weren’t going to rip them off. A lot of them were as capable and vicious as any member of the Thieves Guild, but many were just good kids forced into terrible circumstances. Aerian had one on her back and had another by the hand. Vadik, great lummox that he is, somehow managed three of them on his back and had all the energy of a man half his age. Many of those company members with me who had employed the kids had managed to save one. \n\nMy girl, Kara, had the misfortune of having an alcoholic father who decided he could sell his daughter in the Enki-Maat souk and fund his next binge. Fortunately for her he had the idea on the same day I was assigned to patrol the souk, and I have nothing but contempt for the Kingpriest’s laws concerning women and their place in society. I beat her father to a pulp, charged him with assault and had him thrown into a cell. He didn’t survive long enough for trial and no one cared enough about the town drunk to raise a stink.\n\nSoon after Kara showed up at the barracks, waited for me to show up and refused to leave me alone. She’d shine my armor, mended any clothes with holes, got me food, and in general made herself useful around the place. The ribbing from my comrades about having a child bride aside, I hadn’t wanted anything to do with her at first. I wasn’t the biggest fan of kids, and being the object of a child’s hero worship wasn’t something I was eager to be. Turns out I’m a bigger softie than any one of us would’ve guessed. I mean, when the city was crashing down around us I was willing to risk looking for her wasn’t I? \n\nKara laid her head down again. All around me everyone seemed to go quiet as the adrenaline of imminent death wore off and we settled into the mindset of the march. After a few minutes Aerian walked up. “So what’s the plan boss?”\n\nI sighed and shrugged. “We get clear of the city and see if we can find anyone else from the Company that survived. Head northwest I figure, back towards Bossk. No one will want to risk unfamiliar territory.” Aerian’s skepticism went un-aired, but I could sense it and knew it had to be addressed. “And if we’re the only ones left then we do what we always do and soldier onward.”\n\nI looked back at the smoking ruin of Keshmet, not feeling an ounce of the optimism I was voicing. “It wouldn’t be the first time the company came back from nothing.”", "Xandar was slowly pushing his wagon on the side of the empty street, making his way towards the recycling center. He had spent all day sifting trough piles of junk, hoping to find something worth trading. Ever since the aliens destroyed most of the planet's infrastructure, recycling centers were pretty much the only place to get some food and water, other than joining an outlaw gang.\n\nHis companion Monty was walking alongside, carrying a huge burlap sack on his shoulder. He too had spent most of the day sifthing trough scraps and junk piles. Both Xandar and Monty were staying vigilant, their guns close to their hands. Pirates and thieves would often attack scavengers heading for the recycling center.\n\nNeeding to catch their breath, the 2 men decided to slop on a grassy hill, not too far from their destination but still hidden from view of the mainroad.\n\nIt was Monty who broke silence first.\n\n>You know, even after 3 years of hardship and chaos, I keep thinking back on it, and I can't understand how they got the best of us so easily\n\n>>Are you fucking kidding me ? You want to have this discussion again ?\n\n>Yeah...Look I know you keep saying it was obvious from the beginning but I just don't see it like that.\n\n>>What's not to get ? They arrived in warships, they killed and maimed millions, screwed up the planet and left with anything of value and most females. It doesn't take a genius to recognize space pirates!\n\n>Woh there, I mean hold on.... How we we supposed to know they were warship ? I mean it's not like human had a full encyclopedia of alien ships and markings.\n\n>>The ships were covered in guns and painted skulls!\n\n>So ? Every emo kid had a skull and bones poster on the bedroom wall, didn't make them evil murderers...\n\n>>They landed their ships on the people gathered to welcome them, crushed them to death.\n\n>Navigation error. Hell you remember basic training ? Perfectly landing a transport helicopter was hard man, imagine a giant hulk of metal on a new planet and gravity you're not used to. Was it shocking? Yes, but it was understandable.\n\n>>They came out of their ships and murdered everyone in the vacinity.\n\n>They said they were sorry, said it was a problem with their universal translator. They thought we were hostile.\n\n>>We hadn't even talked to them at this point, how can you mistranslate an inexisting conversation ?\n\n>Look, they apologized and said they were coming in peace.\n\n>>Peace ? They captured, pillaged and raped everything they could find for 3 days!!!\n\n>They said it was a traditional welcoming ceremony. In fact I still think it was pretty rude of you to not participate since you were there. You know, help them feel welcome.\n\n>>I was hiding for my life!!! \n\n>Whatever, it's always me me me with you. You had a chance to participate at a real official first contact ceremony and you chose to hide.\n\n>>Yeah well it was a little too much contact for my taste. Not to mention the murder. Did I mention the murder? Oh yes I did mention the freaking murders!\n\n>Allright I've had it with your complaining and you always accusing me of not being as smart as you. I'm sorry we're not all great vastly superior intelligent like you, he who can smell evil alien overlords a mile away!\n\n>>I'm not.... look, I'm not trying to insult you. I'm just saying people should have catch on much sooner than they did. When people finally started to realise something just might be wrong, they were already departing, leaving us with nothing.\n\n>What do you want me to tell you, they looked friendly.\n\n>>Friendly ? Their armors were covered in blood, sharp blades and skulls. That's not friendly.\n\n>I know, I know. They were pretty scary at first. But do you remember when they took off their helmets ? They looked just like furry little Hello Kitties.\n\n>>Bloody murderous raping little Hello Kitties\n\n>Can you honestly look me in the eyes and tell me that you can be distrustful of a furry little Hello Kitty\n\n>>No.... I guess you're right. They were pretty cute and cuddly.\n\n>Exactly, we didn't see it coming because they were cute and cuddly little Hello Kitties... not because of all the murderous massacre and violence, I mean that part was pretty obvious.\n\n>>Yeah... I think I understand what you meant earlier. I still really miss the women though...\n\n>Yeah, me too. Still, it was really nice of them to take the women space sightseeing.\n\n>>Oh yeah, totally. It's just that they said they'd be gone for a week and it's been 3 years.\n\n>Oh relax, you know how it can be. I bet Tess asked them to stop at every store in the galaxy. Beside, maybe it's US that got things wrong. We've been calculating in Earth time, who knows how long a galactic week actually is.\n\n>>Probably. Still, the handcuffs were a bit weird.\n\n>Space safety belt. Just imagine the sheer pressure you must feel exiting the atmosphere. I'm glad they were securely tied in.\n\n>>But didn't it seem weird to you when they photographed and measured every women before boarding ? Almost like a sales catalogue.\n\n>I did ask them about that. They said it was a surprise and asked me to keep it to myself but I guess there's no harm in telling it now. They planned to give every woman a special custom made dress to comemorate the occasion.\n\n>>Really ? Wow that's awefully nice of them\n\n>I thought so too.\n\n>>I guess I DO worry too much. They were pretty nice now that I think about it.\n\n>Exactly....now you get it! OK come'on, break time is over. We have to get to the recycling center before nightfall.\n" ]	2
	[WP] You have two hobbies: playing the violin, and shooting crossbows. One day during a performance you mix the two activities up.	[ "\"Do your best\" Mom whispers to me as i say my goodbyes. \n\n\" Come on Mom, this is my 5th preformance. Theres really no need to worry.\" I reply with, tired of her overprotection, and, before she can say anything, i shut the door and quickly hurry down the street, and into the subway\n entrance. \n\n90 minutes later \n\nI wait for the speaker to finish his 30-minute long-ass speech. \"Fucking Dingenhoifen\" I say, my voice filled with lividity. \"He told me to get here 45 minutes before the concert even starts! I think ill just take a quick nap while i wait for my preformance.\" \n\nI rub my eyes as i manage to pull myself off of the cold, hard floor of the stage. Trying to remember where I am, A loud voice suddenly announces: \"Ladies and gentlemen, now you shall hear how a true violin maestro plays his instrument. Please welcome, Mr.Bret Alberquark!\" 'Wait a sec... THATS ME!!'i think to myself. I grab my violin case, correct the crookedness of my bowtie, and walk on to the stage, trying not to get blinded by its bright light. \n\n I smile at the crowd of adoring fans that consist of mainly ~50 year old females. I take my seat and pull out my violin, yawning from fatigue. However, instead of reaching for my bow, my hand slips under it and grans an arrow, which i must have left in there after my previous hunting practice. I grab my violin and attempt to play it with the arrow. Instead, the arrow shoots out of my bow and lodges itself in the skull of an old man. \n\n\nI was sent to prison for assault after that incident. I was disowned by my mother and all my friends drifted away. It may seem like i have nothing left, but i find it to be quite the contrary. I managed to sneak in a bow and arrow. With all the practice i had, escaping armed with this should be a sinch. My name is Bret Alberquark and this is my story.\n\nOkay that was trash plz dont judge and sorry for the formatting " ]	1
	[WP] You've grown to accept your ability to see when a person is going to die soon. It's normally an elderly woman struggling across the street, or an obese man eating fried foods... Today after traveling around the entire city, you have yet to meet one person who is not going to die.	[ "I don't understand.\n\nI keep rushing from place to place trying to find someone who's gonna die.\n\nRun by hospitals and look in the doors.\n\nDrive pass an old folks home.\n\nI can't confide in anybody because he said that if I tell anybody I'll lose my ability.\n\nThat's why didn't use it to prevent death.\n\nIs humanity on the verge of sudden immortality like that one crappy season of Torchwood?\n\nOr maybe the pills are working.", "The hell is going on??\n\nEveryone is dying. Soon. In the next few hours.\n\nYes, I looked in the mirror. I'm going to die too.\n\nI really don't want to die. I don't think I can change my fate though.\n\nAll I can think of is, some massive event is going to kill everyone. Maybe it's just this city? The diner! I walk quickly to my usual first stop, and ask the waitress to turn on CNN.\n\nLive TV. Some of the news people look like they're going to survive. Others will die. I watch for a few minutes, making sure the ones who won't die are being broadcast live. They are.\n\nI have to get out of here.\n\nThe subway is full of people who are dead and don't know it yet. In minutes I'm casting around Grand Central, wondering which train to take.\n\nThere! That woman! She's not going to die! I keep an eye on her, looking for others so fated, but there is no one. I abide, watching her wait on the bench. She has no idea how lucky she is.\n\nShe finally glances at her watch and stands, and strides towards a platform. I follow, and board the Amtrak train she gets on. No time to get a ticket, I'll pay the conductor when he comes around.\n\nThe train is crowded. There! A man, another who will live! But the rest of the passengers are all doomed. He's sitting several rows away from the woman; what do they have in common? I can't find a seat within eyeshot of them, so I sit and wait for the train to leave.\n\nThe train pulls away from the platform and heads down the tunnel. I sit, nerveless, watching the lights flash by. Eventually we come out into the open, and I decide to take a little walk to the toilet, and get a closer look at the pair of survivors.\n\nExcept, there was only one now. The man's future had disappeared. And as I looked on in horror, so did that of the woman.\n\nAs I realized they would only survive what happened to the rest of us by a fairly short time, light burned in from all the windows on the train." ]	2
	[WP] You have premonition, and are willingly approaching your certain doom.	[ "Muffled cries fill the room. Strong lights that shone brightly upon the individual resting on the bed made it hard to make out the person lying there. \"Beep, beep, beep, beep, beep\", a machine steadily sounded. From a glass separation, a woman peered into the room, watching as a pair of gloved hands lifted a small object carefully. \n\nThe woman began to slowly observe her surroundings, making out the shapes and figures of others in the room, squinting her eyes slightly as she adjusted to the lights. Realisation hit her, and she began to notice that the person on the bed was a woman, one whose breathing was ragged as she lay on the bed, with her legs barely spread apart, dressed in a blue gown.\n\nFinally, it dawned upon the woman outside the room that she was watching a pregnancy and she began to appreciate the beauty of it all. The tiny squirms of life as the child stretched his limbs for the first time in the arms of the nurse. The attached umbilical cord a clear symbol of the relationship between mother and child.\n\nThe mother stretched her arms out feebly, a faint smile playing on her lips.\n\nAnd then her arms drooped. \n\nHer eyes gently closed as the machine began to sound ever faster, increasing the tempo as it matched the rhythm of her dying heart. The nurse rushed frantically to the side of the bed, clutching the handles as she scanned the machine, looking for signs to save the mother's life. \n\nThe newborn child started to cry, almost as if he knew what was happening - his mother was dying. The cry was soft, slowly growing in intensity as the machine refused to stabilise. \n\nThe woman outside could do nothing but tear as she watched the scene unfold. The thick glass and walls of the room made it impossible to hear the cries within, but she could feel the desperation. With a palm places upon the window, seemingly reaching out to the dying mother, tears flowed freely down her face. \n\nAnd then she heard it, almost missing it the first time, shouts that grew in intensity till the point that she could make out the words. wake up. Yet, the words didn't seem to be coming Wake Up from within the room. Instead, it sounded like it was reverberating inside her head. WAKE UP.\n\nMy eyes jolted open. Immediately, I was hit by an intense pain in my lower abdomen. I stifled a scream and flinched as I realise just how noisy the room was, an how it was hurting my ears. I began to take in my surroundings and could hear the gentle voice of another woman, as she attempted to soothe me, \"Push dear, he's almost out. You can already hear him.\" True enough, the noise was of a child crying frantically. \n\nAs the child left my womb, the nurse held him carefully in her arms, gently caressing him. I closed my eyes and let out a sigh of relief as the pain gently ebbed away. As I reached out for my newborn, The nurse approached me with a huge smile on her face, holding the precious little thing.\n\nAnd then the pain returned. Waves and waves of agonising pain ripped through my heart. I clutched my chest as I cried out. But just as quickly as it came, the pain left, and it seemed as if my soul went with it. The nurse had a frightened look on her face as she scanned the erratically sounding machine. \n\nMy lungs grew tighter with each breath, and as I gasped for air, I knew. I smiled faintly and reached out to the child who was still in the arms of the nurse as she stood by my bedside trying to save my life. \n\n\"My beautiful, beautiful baby boy\", I whispered softly against the cries of my child. My eyes began to close and I held on to the precious hand of my child as life slipped through his fingers.\n\nThe smile never left my face as my hands fell for the last time." ]	1
	[WP] After being sentenced, you were sprung from prison by the FBI. They wish to make use of your skills. However, what they asked to do is far worse than what you were doing before.	[ "Since middle school I loved to steal. It was like an addiction for me. It started off small in 7th grade, like I'd steal a lighter from Walmart if I lost my old one. Eventually it turned into more difficult tasks. If I stayed at a friends house, when everyone was asleep I'd slide into his parents room and steal cash from there mom's purse or dad's wallet. I was never caught and I was so astonished and surprised by my own theft skills. By 8th grade I was going into people's cars and houses stealing valuables. \n\n\nNow, I am 24 and was just hired to do an undercover job in trade for taking time off of my prison time. These cops knew I was talented, once I was sentenced I admitted to multiple and many armed robberies of stores and small banks. I was in prison for something I wasn't so talented in though, murder. Life sentence. My story of how that happened was very unexpected. I always took my .44 magnum with me on every robbery, just to make sure they gave up the fucking money and I really didn't intend on using it. It was the usual stick up, walk in with my mask on near closing time and hold the bank or store up. This time it was a big time job, a multi-million dollar bank was being held up by one man. Holding my .44 up the dude's head that gave money out, I don't know what they call those workers, I heard a click behind my head. I felt the steel gun barrel held against my head. The man whispered in my ear a cheesy ass line, \"Any last words kiddo?\" The only thing I did was point my gun backwards and fire off 3 quick shots to the man. He dropped and I fled like hell. It was either my life or his. Cops were already waiting for me outside of the bank. \n\n\nThe job they wanted me to do was something I couldn't ever think of doing. It was inhumane on a whole other level. Stuart, the officer that was giving me this opportunity told me I was the perfect man for the job because I was so \"talented\" and \"involved\" in my crimes. Stuart wanted me to sneak and break into a drug lords house and torture the guy, Jose, until he gave up the names and locations of the men that supplied him. I knew cops were always dirty, but hell, I never knew these pigs were this fucked up. " ]	1
	[WP] The Princess is a murderous psychopath and no one actually wants to save her from the poor Dragon.	[ "\"So let me get this straight. You want me to go into a giant tower that may or may not topple perilously into the gorge it happens to be by, that's surrounded by undead warriors summoned by an ancient gnomish necromancer, that just so happens to be filled to the brim with traps designed to bring any fool who enters an excruciatingly painful death, and, to top it all off, is guarded by a massive dragon?\"\n\n\"Yep. That sounds about right. 'Though you forgot the horrid miasma seeping from the very stones.\"\n\n\"Why?\"\n\n\"'Cause yer an adventurer.\"\n\n\"No, I get that. What reason is there to even go there in the first place?\"\n\n\"Oh... The princess may have gotten herself kidnapped.\"\n\n\"Ah, of course! The princess has been kidnapped! What an an incredibly compelling reason to throw myself headlong into my doom. Why not have the royal guard take care of it?\"\n\n\"Well, ehrm, they don't wanna. Infact, the lot of them were ordered not to.\"\n\n\"Oh good. They were told not to. It's seems as if I have another tasty bit of bait to make me want to do this. Well, I'm not biting.\"\n\n\"There'll be more gold than you'll know what to do with as a reward, good sir.\"\n\n\"If you have so much gold to throw around, then why not get a band of local mercenaries to help? Hell, even street thugs aren't that against taking legitimate payment.\"\n\n\"We've tried and they don't want any part of it.\"\n\nAt this, the adventurer could only stare aghast. What reason, short of sheer inability on the part of this kingdom's military to even penetrate the tower, could there be for no one wanting to save a member of the royal family? He racked his brain for a few moments before finally grasping at a straw so weak and frail that it might have well been thread spun by a crazy old spinstress. I guess there's no reason not to ask, he thought.\n\n\"Err... Would it possibly be that the princess has been kidnapped so frequently in the past that the resources needed to rescue her are being stretched thin?\" He asked.\n\n\"Sure! Let's go with that!\"\n\nAs convincing as the messenger's statement was, the adventurer would need a bit more convincing. He was sorely in need of food.\n\n~~~\n\nAfter more than enough food and a bit more wine, the adventurer wet out. Not right away, but rather the next day, well after noon. (Too much wine.) It mattered little. The princess had been captured weeks before and, from the sound of things, wasn't in any immediate danger. And besides, The tower was less than a day's walk from the town. He hardly needed to buy any provisions for the trip. And besides, as horrible as the tower sounded, there was a good chance that the adventurer wouldn't ever need to adventure again! The messenger had quoted him over ten thousand gold pieces. That was a king's ransom for gods' sake! Enough to buy land and live comfortably for the rest of your life! That sounded like quite the steal for retrieving some royal brat. \n\nAnd so the adventurer went on his merry way to the tower thinking of new hopes. With it being so close and the fact that this was a reasonably peaceful kingdom, there was hardly any fiends waiting for him along the way. He did run into a highwayman, but when he told the thief where he was headed, the adventurer got offered a meal and a pat on the back. If that didn't show the peace of the land, then what did?\n\nWhen, after a nice hike, the adventurer did come upon the tower, he was refreshed and rejuvenated and, given what had happened to him on this relatively short excursion, he decided that there was no way the tower could be as bad as he had been told; and, by the look of things, it wasn't. Sure, there were undead milling about, but they seemed to care little that there was a very obviously armed and prepared adventurer at their gates, and the miasma proved to be little more than a slightly unsanitary smell that only ever made itself know when the wind shifted. As for the traps, there could be little to know until one actually ventured into the tower, but considering the lackluster mob and only slightly discomforting smell, there was no reason to worry about those either. So the Adventurer stepped forth.\n\nThe first thing that he noticed was that as soon as he entered, the smell went away. Secondly it was noted that it was clean. The base level had been set up to look like a grand ballroom with chandeliers and tapestries hanging from the ceiling and polished marble for the floor. Dispersed throughout the room were a handful of the undead wearing what could only be described as the most horrendously gaudy maid uniforms that could ever be devised and they were all doing mundane cleaning and upkeep. The only thing that the adventurer could do was pick his jaw up off the floor and continue onward and upward. \n\nThe second floor was a bit more drab. Still very clean, but drab. It looked a bit more like what you'd expect from a tower. All stone walls and stone floor and the like. There was a bookcase on one wall of the room and a door on another and nothing much else. So our intrepid hero went through the door into the room beyond. It just so happened to be the study of the necromancer with a menacing desk and a case full of ghastly tomes and a shriveled and disfigured man scrawling a pentagram into the floor.\n\n\"You must be the necromancer,\" said the adventurer while he drew his sword, \"not quite the army I was expecting. Either you feel that much more superior to me in that there is nothing for you to worry about, or there is something far more fiendish at hand.\"\n\n\"Oh, quit with your daft speech.\" Said the necromancer. \"You must be here for the princess then. Finally.\"\n\nThe old wizard stood up and cracked his back before walking to the far door.\n\n\"Well,\" he said, \"you coming?\"\n\nThe adventurer was baffled. No animosity what so ever from this supposedly wicked man. none.\n\n\"Uh... So you aren't going to tell me your scheme to take over the kingdom by enlisting the help of the dragon while holding the princess as ransom?\" He asked.\n\n\"What? No, if anything, that brat's the one holding me ransom. She made me make my minions clean and remodel my tower. And the dragon's my roommate. I haven't got all day, are you 'saving' the little ankle biter or not?\"\n\nAgain the adventurer had to pick his jaw up from the floor as he followed the necromancer up the tower. Eventually they alighted on the top floor where a dragon was sitting miserably at a small pink table.\n\n\"Where's the girl?\" asked the necromancer. \"Someone finally came to pick her up.\"\n\nThe dragon glanced up at the necromancer and gestured to a side door with its tail.\n\n\"She's getting tea and cakes. I've been invited to a tea party with fuzzington and the duke of la-la land.\" said the poor wyrm.\n\n\"Again? That's the third time since lunch.\" The necromancer rubbed the bridge of his nose and huffed. \"Just tell her to buzz off.\"\n\nAt this, the dragon and the necromancer began bickering like an old married couple. They were either really good friends or they couldn't stand each other. Either way, the adventurer decided to interject.\n\n\"Uh, excuse me... If you hate the princess so much, why'd you kidnap her?\"\n\n\"We didn't,\" sighed the dragon.\n\n\"She came of her own free will.\" said the necromancer.\n\n\"So why have you not returned her?\" Asked the adventurer.\n\n\"Because we can't.\" The necromancer sat on a comically small chair and sighed. \"We're only in this tower because we were banished here long ago. We can't leave. That means that when the royal pain in the ass showed up, we couldn't take her back. When you came across me in my study, I was trying to disable the barrier that holds us here so we could take care of the little squatter for good. But now that you're here, we can just leave it to you.\"\n\nWith that, the princess came into the room carrying a teapot and a plate of cookies and set them on the table. The dragon trembled and the necromancer groaned. \"Looks like we have a guest!\" she said.\n\n\"Actually, I'm here t take you home.\" said the adventurer. \"Grab your things. We're leaving.\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"Yes. Your father is very worried about you and I need to take you home. Leave these poor folk alone and come with me, your highness.\"\n\nWhat followed was a sniffle, some tears, and a scream that could put a glass blower out of business. While the adventurer was reeling from the shock of the tantrum, the necromancer wove a spell of sleep and knocked the girl unconscious.\n\n\"Just grab her and go!\" The old wizard yelled. \"It'll only last for half a day! If you hoof it, you'll make it to town before the brat wakes up!\"\n\nWith that, the adventurer threw the girl over his shoulder and ran out of the tower. Emboldened by words of thanks from the dragon and necromancer, he dashed back to town and plopped the princess at the gates as she began to wake up. He grabbed his gold and continued on to find greater riches beyond the kingdom of Lasswail.\n\n " ]	1
	[Wp] 20 uses left...	[ "“They just kept coming–it seemed like it would never end.”\n\nThe Committee stared at him as he attempted to explain himself. Small beads of sweat began to form on his forehead. \n\n“I looked to the hill on my left and saw a group of them–maybe ten, twelve–rushing toward me,” he continued, “so I threw down a cover and made my way back to the POD. It was probably half a mile, took me around two or three minutes.”\n\n“On with it!” The man in the center shouted. Francis hadn’t seen him before. His badge read “Andrews.” The other four men in the Committee sat silently—arms crossed, taking notes, or taking part in some other form of manifested disappointment. \n\n“Alright,” Francis cleared his throat. “I made it to the POD and climbed in. I was starting to get exhausted at that point, so I rummaged around until I found some water. I sat there for five or ten minutes. It could have been longer—who knows? I couldn’t really tell anymore. I started thinking of Park and Daniels. I couldn't be next, I thought. I wouldn’t let myself. I started to hear a loud hiss from off in the distance.” His eyes glazed over as he got lost in the memory. Andrews shifted in his seat, but before he could say anything, Francis snapped out of it and brought himself back to the hearing.\n\n“I knew it was almost too late.” He continued. “It was my only choice if I wanted to come home!”\n\n“What did you do next?” The man on the far left interrupted. He had no badge or any other sort of decoration to define him. Shaved head, brown eyes, square glasses—typical Committee member. \n\n“I did what made sense. I walked over to the command center, lifted the shield, and broke the glass. The Button was almost glaring at me. Taunting me, as if I wouldn’t do it.”\n\n“But you did, didn’t you?” The same man asked. Francis hesitated. He looked around the room. Each of the ten eyes was staring right into his memories. \n\n“I did. I did it. I closed my eyes, clenched my fist, and hit the Button.”\n\nThe one to Francis's right of Andrews uncrossed his arms to adjust his glasses. He started to speak but stopped as if he wasn't quite sure what to say.\n\n\"There are only twenty uses left.\" He said quietly. He sounded numb, but quickly became irate. \"Each time one of you imbeciles pushes that button, we're one step closer to the end. There were thirty in the Beginning. There were twenty-one yesterday, and now, after your performance, there are only twenty uses left.\" ", "A lone man stands in a cold white tiled room wearing a white lab jacket. He stands there silently, hovering above a table with a red container, just staring down at it. His hand grabs the edges of the table while he taps his fingers. A cold drop of sweat runs down his brow. His heart paces with each passing second, faster and faster.\n\n\"Ok Donnie, you got this. Just follow the procedures and everything will be fine. No one could of guessed it was gonna happen so soon... Damnit.. If only there had been more time may-\"\n\nHis thoughts are caught off as a young female assistant walks in through the door. Her hair is in a tassel and her eyes are heavy with restlessness. She carries with her in her hands a clipboard filled with various lists and notes.\n\n\"Doctor?.. Is everything ready?\"\n\n\"Yes Katrina.. Unfortunately we won't have enough..\"\n\nThe doctor's sad gaze goes back to the red box on the table. The box looks like it was previously opened before and in a hastily manner. Katrina's worn face turns into a frown as well. The past twenty-four hours haven't been kind to either of them.\n\n\"I suppose we will have to make due then. How many shots are left?\"\n\nThe doctor opens the lid of the red box. Inside lays a gun like syringe. Its loaded with a single clip. On its side is a virtual counter with numbers in bright red lights. The doctor picks it up and takes a look.\n\n\"There is about 20 uses left..not enough to save everyone, not enough to ensure that it will stop.\"\n\nThe two just stand in quiet for a moment, taking in the situation. The doctor then proceeds to ready the device. Katrina looks at the list of patients before her. A good few hundred names are on the list. All potentially victims of the attack. \n\n\"What's the chance we can stop it? What's the chance of it continuing to spread?\"\n\nThe doctor begins to make his way to the door with the syringe in hand.\n\n\"The chances of success are not very high. The virus can easily spread with just being in contact with a carrier. We won't know who actually has it before it's too late. The only thing that's working in our favor was that the area was quickly cordoned off before anyone could leave the area. With so few antidotes, there really isn't much of a chance of success and I hate to think what will happen otherwise, virus or not..It would be 1 in a million chance if we were able to cure all the actual carriers and not waste it on those who weren't\"\n\nKatrina's face fills with distraught\n\n\"So it would just be pure luck then...People are going to die aren't they?\"\n\nThe doctor turns around and gives her one final glance before heading out the door.\n\n\"Yeah and it's gonna be us who has to decide who..\"" ]	2
	[WP] Aliens arrive and offer humans the chance to join their federation but, some of the rules aren't compatible with humans.	[ " It wasn't obvious at first, initially they were kind and helpful, which at the time just seemed like common decency. When they first arrived they immediately offered human kind membership in their \"Grand Federation\", if accepted we would receive protection and technology beyond anything in the realm of our current scientific progression. If we declined they would leave us in peace, leaving only the threat of attack behind. \n\n The year was 2066, according to our calendar, when they first made their offer, it took the leaders of our world over three years to decide, and eventually, we accepted. Immediately our entire population was catalogued, and the most physically and mentally fit of us were selected and taken aboard their spacecrafts and trained for our future positions. Everything worked out well for a couple months, but a few of the new recruits began to request to return to our planet to visit family and friends. Those wishes were always denied, accompanied with slight chuckles from our superiors, as if we had made a joke. At the time I was naïve, now I can see why such requests are jokes, as they should be, personal attachments make one week, unstable, in order to achieve true power connections must be severed, the weak must perish, the unwilling be left behind.\n\n This philosophy is the sole cause that the federation is winning this war, we got to the Alpha Centauri system, made the native species feel unique, valuable. We can then pick those useful to our cause and enslave the rest, using them to move our war machine further. This war has lasted for centuries, but our scientific society is superior to the insolent religious bastards, and today our advantage is at risk. Both sides of this his conflict emerged from the same planet, the Federation had pushed all oppositions out of the solar system decades ago, and it has remained undisputed until now. \n\n The year is 2745, on the Federation calendar, this war started on the 21st of January, 2017. Now, 728 years later our opposition fleet is in striking distance of our forward outposts, soon they shall be upon us. Today we defend the federation home planet. Today we defend Earth.\n\n\n\nNote: A little off prompt, I know, humans are the alpha race in the Federation, but hey! I felt inspired by the prompt and this is my first response to anything in this sub." ]	1
	[WP] You've returned from an Xmas vacation to find every house on your street destroyed... except yours.	[ "As the taxi sped up through the carnage, I looked out to see many people standing, and finding what was left through the wreckage. The air was gloomy and the faces were bleak as I got closer to my destination. I guess I was lucky, partying while also signing the jolliest of songs while at the same time hell broke loose here. But as the taxi turned onto my street, my eyes widened as I could not believe what I saw. Everywhere around my house was gone and it was all in pieces but somehow during all this, my house barely got a few scratches. I wasn't the luckiest guy to begin with but this was pretty amazing. However my neighbors weren't feeling the same way as they looked in front of them all the memories and experiences gone, like a flame in the wind. After getting my luggage and paying the fare, I walked to the front door, sure the house wasn't flattened but with all the branches and debris everywhere, it wasn't in perfect shape. As the door creaked opened, a waft of air came whizzing by and I was finally able to lay rest on my couch. Being the idiot I was, I grabbed the remote and tried to turn on the tv but the tornado took out the power and it won't be on for a while. Feeling extremely tired after being in an airplane for 9 hours, I walked to my bedroom and fell flat onto the covers before I was dead asleep. I guess the joy of Christmas keeps on giving.", "\"We've just received conformation from the authorities that the sudden fire that burned through nearly an entire neighborhood this afternoon had in fact been started by an arson.\"\n\n\"H-hey! Turn that up, that's my house! Hey!\" Through the noises of the bar, it was hard to hear the news as Ellis Freemont sucked down another beer. The slightly dingy but warm space had been chucky-jammed full of post christmas drinkers and the usual crowd but Ellis had just returned from a 13 hour flight and wanted to knock a few cold ones back with his dinner before heading home. Except now it seemed home was nothing more than his house surrounded by ashes and emergency vehicles accompanied by the laundry list of news correspondents and wailing victims. Begrudgingly the bartender clicked the TV volume up.\n\n\"Thanks to an eyewitness report, a figure was seen earlier today fleeing the scene with a gas canister and lighter wearing dark jeans, black converse sneakers, red ball-cap and a plain white t-shirt under what they described as a dingy green parka with matted tan fur. The figure was said to have green eyes, sandy red hair and quote 'more freckles than a ginger kid playing with brown paint'. If anyone has any information about the suspect, call the Fairfield police immediately.\"\n\nHe nearly dropped his beer out his hand, while he stared at his house through the TV screen watching a slightly busty woman describe himself in detail, what he was wearing from head to toe from the freckles down to his Converse hightops. Ellis' jaw hung open, he couldn't believe what was happening. A sketch drawn out of himself popped up on screen and those paying attention to it slowly turned their heads to get a better look at him standing near the bar counter. Ellis swallowed hard and shakily put his drink down. \"H-hey, um... y-ya'll know that wasn't m-me right?....right?!\" It wasn't long before one phone-call turned into the blaring of multiple sirens and the flashing of lights of several police cars turned up outside of the bar. Ellis was screwed, then again he couldn't have started that fire he was on a plane wasn't he? People didn't just show up in two places at once like that...", "Smoke trails rose from the smouldering ashes that were the remains of the neighbouring homes, snow blacked from mixing with the soot falling silently, coating the area like a ashen blanket. Small fires flickered here and there, beneath the wreckage of the homes, cutting through shadows in the dim light of the rising dawn. A lone house stood among the wreckage, seemingly untouched. \n\n\n\nDaniel pulled up into the driveway, staring through his windshield in disbelief. He slowly exited his car, leaving the door ajar as he stared down his street, his jaw agape. \n\n\n\n\"What the hell...?\" he whispered to himself.\n\n\n\nThe roaring of an engine filled the distant air. Daniel turned toward the sound to see a completely black SUV with tinted windows speeding towards him. It skidded to a halt and a man dressed in special forces attire jumped out. Without speaking a word, he grabbed Daniel and pushed him into the car. The man got into the car behind Daniel and slammed the door behind him. \n\n\n\n\"Go! Go!\" he shouted, as the SUV took off at full speed. \n\n\n\"Let me out!\" yelled Daniel \"What do you want from me?!\" \n\n\n\"Calm down!\" yelled the man gruffly, grabbing Daniel's wrists to stop him from thrashing about any further. \n\n\"What's going on?!\" shouted Daniel. \n\n\n\"What're you talking about? Where have you been?!\" asked the man. \n\n\n\"Away on holiday, why?\" Daniel replied. \n\n\n\"Listen, I don't know if you haven't been paying attention to the news or what, but you're pretty lucky to be al-.\" the man dressed in special forces began, but was cut short by a massive explosion. \n\n\n\nThe car careened out of control as the shockwave from the unseen explosion passed it by. The SUV shot off the side of the road and stopped dead against a guard rail. The driver immediately got out to assess the damage. \n\n\n\nDaniel turned around to see a new cloud of smoke and fire rising from where he assumed his house had previously stood. \n\n\n\n\"What the FUCK was that?!\" Daniel demanded. \n\n\n\"THAT, is what is going to kill us all if we don't keep moving!\" \n\n\n\"What IS that?!\" Daniel asked. \n\n\nThe man grimaced, letting out a short breath and closing his eyes. \n\n\n\"The Chinese sent two people into space to an experimental space station last October. Everyone thought it was pretty a standard space mission, except it wasn't. They built a massive weapon up there that was intended to be the next step in counter-terrorism. It was an automated device, unmanned. They lost control over the thing, and now its targeting everything and everyone!\" he replied. \n\n\n\"But wouldn't that only be a danger to places it's above? Why can't we just go up there and stop it?\" Daniel asked. \n\n\n\"Yes its only a danger to what its above, and right now, that's us!\" spat the man, no longer having patience for Daniel's ignorance. \"And do you really think you're the first person to suggest we go up there and destroy the thing? No! There is no off switch for the thing. There is no remote control for it either. If you try to switch the thing off, the whole place will explode.\" \n\n\n\"So somebody dies blowing it up, what's wrong with that?!\" yelled Daniel \n\n\n\"So somebody dies, are you kidding me? If you blow that thing up, everybody dies! The amount of radiation that thing would emit would be catastrophic to whatever country it was over, and let's not forget that the explosion alone would EMP the entire planet! So just shut the fuck up, and pray that we can get out of here before it targets us!\" replied the man. \n\n\n\nThe driver jumped back into the car and turned to the man who had explained the situation to Daniel. \n\n\n\"I'm sorry sir, but we're on foot from here.\" he said. \n\n\n\nThe special forces man turned to look at Daniel. \n\n\n\"You'd better start praying.\"" ]	3
	[WP] Aliens have reached Earth. But we're long dead.	[ "They had a thriving civilization, with small-scale spacefaring abilities. \n\nWe were an ancient species millions of light years away. \n\nThey had sent so many transmissions in such a short time period, and it was obvious that their advancement was not stopping or slowing down.\n\n\nWe heard of their science, their culture, their wars. So many ideas in such a short time, even if we had thought of many of them first.\n\nThey had no idea how impressed and amazed we were with them. They had no idea we even existed.\n\nWe had never encountered another species.\n\nNeither had they.\n\nEven with our advanced technology, it would take millions of years for us to get a message to them. However, it wasn't long before the engineers at Grazcol realized that it would be faster for us to travel their in person than it would for us to send a message. Within months, some of our larger ships designed for interstellar travel had been redone to allow a crew to reach this planet, designated XC-53, in a mere twelve Millenia. This may seem like a long time to you, but faster than light travel is already a violation of natural law, and also our engines weren't capable of making the trip in less than that but forget about that. We don't use FTL travel very often, and this was an opportunity very few civilizations get.\n\nSo we prepared the ship. We prepared the crew. They'd be able to get there in the span of a few months, while generations came and went. I was on that ship. It wasn't easy, agreeing to lose my place in time. But I could not pass up this opportunity. Every week, we sent back a report to our homeworld. It was always very boring and took a very long time to arrive. There isn't much to see when you are moving faster than light. Finally, we arrived. Our species was still alive. Although we had suffered countless wars during that time, we had survived. The common interest of meeting with another species that had managed to ascend to this level had survived with us through those twelve millenia.\n\nThe first thing we noticed was how different the planet looked. Its distinguishing feature- the large amount of water- had become much more pronounced, with nearly no dry land visible except in a few locations, like mountains and highlands. XC-53 had a greenhouse atmosphere. While not as severe as XC-52's toxic air, XC-53 was significantly hotter than it had been thousands of years ago. (Or so we assumed.) One of XC-55's moons that we knew to have copious amounts of frozen water was nearly dry. It appears that this species attempted to bring more ice to keep their planet cool. This plan had visibly failed, as the frozen water melted and flooded the planet, bringing it to it's current state. \n\nWe shocked at first as to how a civilization that advanced so rapidly lost to global warming, but we went down to the surface and searched for any remnants of the species we had once thought to be our friends. All we found... were ruins. Massive cities of glass and metal sunken beneath the seas. Everything the had made had been wiped out. It seems that a few of them were able to escape to the stars, but we estimated no more than two million of them could have escaped.\n\nOn the seventh day of searching, our scans made a surprising discovery: one of the only cities above water was inhabited. I cannot describe the sheer amount of emotion we all shared then. Joy, confusion, fear, gratitude and countless others seemed limitless in that moment. There were vehicles, lights, and most importantly, organisms. We wasted no time in preparing everything we needed to announce that they were not alone, and they had friends in this unforgiving universe. We set out to applaud them for their perseverance, but when we got to their city we found something rather... unexpected. \n\nIt wasn't the same species. Although their anatomy appeared similar to the designs we saw on their golden disk, we quickly realized it wasn't them. After 12,000 years, another species had arisen to fill the niche left open by the one before them. I still remember that moment we stepped into a clearing, still continuing our plan to bring our message that we had heard theirs, and were ready to become allies. \n\nI will never forget the first sound one of them made... a quiet, scared\n\n\"Woomy.\"\n\n\nI was trying to try out an idea I had with storytelling and perspective, but I just think I use \"we\" too much. :P\nNot the best story, but I hope it was a good read. Sorry for the bad payoff though, this whole thing was written after I saw the prompt and thought Splatoon.", "Desolate. That was what it was. The husk floating in the confines of an eternally expanding cosmos. A dead planet, a Mort. There were obvious sounds of life on the Mort. Things which easily showed that civilization was once a concept there, even a blooming one. But it seemed that each civilization on the Mort showed affects of attack, wear and tear that could only be surmised through the simple fact that it was a war torn ravage. Anything created by the dominant species was razed to the ground using, what seems, weapons which could attack multiple targets at once.\n\nThere are stories about the Mort. Many stories. Before we sent researchers, we sent scouts. They came back with literary pieces, which we have understood to be called books. Somewhat like our Yggdrees. However, their 'books' are much shorter in comparison. From these books we learned about them, and their way of life. We had learned many things about their civilizations background history until we understood what fiction was. And how it differed from fact. So we had to go back and redo our research. Quite a nuisance, but many things began to make more sense now. \n\nWe also found their structures to be quite odd. Straight, rectangular towers going as high as one could see. Some above the dust that settled on the atmosphere. We read about things called clouds, which would bring forth aqeau, or as they called it, water. But, back to the structures. Many did not seem to server any purpose other then to go higher and higher. We found one, in a land shaped like one of their mythological creatures, that was incredibly thin. Too thin to fit the dominant species at least. Quite odd, however, the consensus is; these structures were built in a sort of competition. Not serving any purpose other than to be taller then the tallest. How it survived their battles of ferocity and vicious weapons, no one can understand, yet.\n\nAnother odd thing were the differences in them. For they were each and everyone, different from the other. Or so it is said. Biologically, they were similar. However, things such as their colour and height. And many other factors played a key role in quite a many wars. Quite a determent for a species to have different races if it can lead to something as horrific as this. \n\nDesolate. That's all it is now. Their history will be forever preserved, in the Yggdrees. However, this Mort serves no purpose. The species were quite insignificant, and hateful. They cannot be given precedence over the species which have triumphed. This Mort well soon be gone, history preserved, but not truly needed. Just another civilization which has fallen due to its own people. Sad, but true.", "\"Can we go to Disney World?\"\n\n\"I want to see a circus!\"\n\nThe children crowded around the large, circular window that had for several long months shown nothing but the black void of interstellar space. Now, however, it was showing a beautiful blue planet. A welcome reprieve for weary travelers.\n\nThe children had been cycling through the same questions since we left. I entertained their questions, but remained non-committal. I had no idea what admission prices were going to be.\n\nRenting this damnable shuttle had nearly bankrupted me already. These kids may be the end of me. Love them to pieces, but they are irritating. I needed a drink.\n\n\"Do you think humans are nice?\" \n\nI thought for a moment, carefully crafting my answer. \"I think that they will be nice to you.\" They better be, because even this rusty shuttle is capable of wiping them out.\n\nEasy on the rage, I caution myself. Don't need another 'incident' with the wife.\n\nIt was a long voyage. I was suffering from cabin fever. Big time. That was it, yes.\n\nMy wife gave me one of those knowing glances. Not sympathetic. That knowing look of, \"you work all the time, and don't have to deal with what I have to deal with at home.\" \n\nI looked around and counted the children. 27. Good, they were all here.\n\n\"All right guys, we're almost there. Fasten your seat belts, we're landing in 10 minutes!\" The children emitted high-pitch squeals of delight.\n\nFor about a minute, it was absolute pandemonium. Bodies and tentacles everywhere as the children located their seats. Inevitably, two had to fight about the window seat.\n\n\"I'll turn this thing around right now if I don't get some peace and quiet!\" My temper flared; my wife gave me another knowing look. Definitely not sympathetic.\n\nWe didn't burn up entering Earth's atmosphere. Unsure if that was a bad thing or good thing at this time.\n\nThen, something unexpected. I broadcast on common human channels, and found nothing.\n\nI did notice that the broadcast signals seemed unusually quiet when we were approaching Earth, but it was hard to pay attention with all the damned racket on the shuttle.\n\nWhat happened to the humans? It was eerie.\n\nI had picked our landing site strategically some time ago: Washington, D.C. That seemed to be a major human city. I wanted to make sure our arrival was noticed. \n\nI expected top-notch service.\n\nNothing. The sky was a strange red. The streets were empty, the pavement cracked with grass through it.\n\n\"What happened, Daddy?\" \n\n\"I have no idea, pumpkin.\" One of my children started crying. Then, all of my children started crying. Just great. I decided then that I was going to go out and explore. \"You guys stay at the shuttle. I'm going to see if I can find out what happened to the humans.\"\n\nTo be honest, I didn't really care. Humans were barely sentient as is, and really didn't add much to the Universe. Damned good TV, though. And I heard they had killer craft beer.\n\nThat's how I found myself at bar. Alone. At peace. I let out a long sigh, and reached behind the bar and grabbed a dusty bottle.\n\nI opened it, and took a long swig. Then another. Well, I guess Disney World isn't open anymore, I thought.\n\nI could just see my wife with her five eyes giving me the look. That look. A mix of loathing and regret. Yes, I was going to get a stern talking to about this. I could hear it already: \"You said you'd never take us to visit an extinct planet again.\"\n\nAt least this planet had booze. Just as I finished the bottle, I saw my shuttle take off and leave orbit.\n\nI took out my phone and ordered an Uber. This was going to be an expensive fucking ride. Not as expensive as my divorce, I thought.", "The being had been aimlessly flying through space when it first picked up the signal. A short, repeating message of some kind; faint and coming from a nearby planet. It's ship told it the source was unknown, that there were no inhabited planets on it's database anywhere near here. This was odd. The being liked odd. It had long since evolved past the limitations that plagues most biological life, immortal and all but infinite in its capabilities it wants for nothing but entertainment. Practically a god it wanders the universe, alone for the most part, searching for something even it can't quite put it's finger on (even if it had \"fingers\" that is).\n\nThe planet itself was unremarkable, scorched and red. No water, no life but surrounded by ancient and primitive satellites. The being could have course used the ships computers and sensors to find the source and translate the message but where would be the fun in that? Transporting to the surface, just above the signals origin, the being was discouraged by the desolation of the landscape that surrounded it. Orangey-red, bathed in the light from the large red sun, only the faintest hints of the city that once stood there were now visible. A quick scan revealed the signal was coming from a large structure buried beneath the dirt. Teleporting that dirt into a pile on some distant corner of the planet a large door was revealed to the being. \n\nWhat ever this structure was, it was built to last. A further scan revealed it was powered by nuclear reactor and maintenance robots had kept the place from falling apart for goodness knows how long. Above the door strange alien symbols carved into the metal simply read \"THE ARK\". The being entered and was greeted by a large, circular room, all made from marble, doors going off in all directions. \n\nIn the centre was a sculpture. The being approached it. It was of two aliens, one sat up right, the other draped over it's lap. It stirred something inside the being that it hadn't felt in along time, the beauty of it made it feel as though time was standing still. There was a sadness to the sculpture, of that the being was sure but the way the stone was cut to resemble cloth, rippling around the upright alien, the way the other alien lay, clearly lifeless, it's weight resting heavy on the arms of the other, had a powerful effect over the being of the exact opposite of the despair portrayed. After staring at the sculpture for what could have been an eternity the being decided to move on, to see what other treasures this place held. \n\nMoving down the corridor directly a head of it, it passed painting after painting. Each stunning in their own right, the being barely able to view one before becoming totally enraptured by the next. At the end of the corridor it reached another room, smaller this time, empty apart from a chair in the centre. As it entered a screen appeared on the far wall displaying dozens of pictures. Waving it's appendages allowed the being to move through the pictures, generally these pictures were no where near as beautiful as the ones in the corridor. Perhaps these were the ones deemed undeserving of a spot on the wall thought the being.\n\nBut then one jumped out at it. A blue circle inside a yellow square. it selected the painting and it filled the screen. The being stood there confused for a while, not understanding why this room existed or why this simple painting seemed to mean so much to it. Then it had an epiphany, it quickly reconfigured it's biology so that it could sense sound once again. It's long abandoned ability to hear returned, just as the voice sang the words:\n\n\"she lifted up her wings,\n\nI guess that this must be the place...\"\n\nThe being remembered, knelt down and wept. He was home. ", "\"Oh my there is Earth! The humans! Finally!\" Qurllg shouted. \n\"Yes! Master will be so proud if we bring a human back!\" Qurllg's buddy, Ouypt, said. \nThe two aliens landed in the heart of New York City. Qurllg's slimy tentacle reached for the handle of the ship. \n\"Oh my god. What is this place? No humans?! Did we land on the wrong planet?\" Qurllg shrieked. \"Man, Ouypt this is all your fault! You can't even use the maps!\" Qurllg slammed his fist on the control pad. \nOuypt shook his head and walked out of the ship. The city was grey and the skyscrapers were crumbling. \n\"Help.\" A voice croaked. It sounded screechy, like a car braking. Ouypt jumped backwards, falling onto the hard pavement. \nQurllg ran outside. \"Ouypt! This is Earth!\" Qurllg extended his slimy tentacle and picked Ouypt up. They saw a beat up thing in the distance. As the alien duo walked toward it, the pavement crumbled underneath them. \n\"Is that... A human?!\" Qurllg asked. The beat up, dirty thing covered in cuts looked nothing like the picture Master showed them. \n\"Help me.\" The human croaked out. It was obvious he had a hard time breathing. \nQurllg said his speech. He knew a little bit of English and practiced it for this occasion. \n\"I am alien. I come to meet and bring humans to Master. Where are humans?\" \nThe human shallowly breathed. \"All the humans died. The world is gone. Our cities are gone. This was New York. I am the last human alive. Take me to your master. I am John.\" \n\"We will help you!\" Qurllg said. As they turned around, their ship sunk deep into the cracks of the Earth. \n\n--------------------------------------------------\n\nu/mazo4033 \nI hope you liked that, I will continue if you guys want! \n\nEDIT: typo", "\"We come in-\" as Daryl stepped off the platform and looked around at the barren wasteland of Washington D.C. He stopped and checked his notes again. \n\n\"Hey..uh...Bill? In the most recent transmission did they happen to say anything about dying? Over.\" Daryl thumbed through his notes with not quite a thumb, but a tendril branch coming out what humans would associate as a hand. \n\n\"Daryl. No. The last transmission was...'Oh ohhhhh. We're halfway there. Oh, Oh. Living on a prayer' which might suggest imminent doom, but our researchers suggest it was more of a spiritual song. One to suggest a supernatural ability to overcome struggle. Over.\"\n\nDaryl thought a moment and had a scanner take air quality. \"Looks like it didn't work. Here's the air quality data. Based on how the soil looks and the dismal reading of air quality, the biomes have all changed.\" He reached into a small pack attached near the middle of his body. It was easy to get to and rested easy on his hips. Most of his species thought it was stylish and practical. \n\nHe pulled out a small disk. With a deep thud, it hit the ground near his feet, or mass of tendrils that erupted from below his center mass and the small mid-section pack. It blinked. \n\n\"It's not entirely un-salvageable. I think there's a buyer in the area who might be able to flip it. Now it's kind of a fixer upper, but the proximity to the second planet and the vast amount of moons could be quite profitable. Over.\"\n\n\"Sounds good to me. Over.\"\n\nDaryl took one last look at the planet before him. It was better this way. Easier. Selling an infested home costs resources and time. His profit would be a lot more at this rate. He could take the hatchlings, all 3,000 of them, somewhere nice for their birthday before they were the age where they all began consuming one another. \n\nThe door shut behind him and he began his pitch to a buyer.", "Transmission opening.... Opening.... Stand by for connection...\n\nTransmission complete.\n\nI don't know what to tell you, Emperor Qualog. The species that sent us that transmission left long ago. Our squad hasn't found anything looking like the transmission we got. All we found was bones. Whenever they were human or not, there's a lot of them. We keep accidentally stepping on some. We'll send some back with us for study.\n\nIt appears there might have been a mass sacrifice, or raid. The place we landed on was told to be New York. All we saw was empty buildings and broken glass, along with the bones of whatever roamed here. The skies here are dark, all the time. The rain is almost acid-like. We've decided to set up shop in one of the taller buildings, one with an actual roof. We'll continue our search for life tomorrow.\n\nTransmission #2\n\nIt appears we're reading radioactive particles in the air, near the center of the mass collection of buildings. There's a crater here. It's too dark to see all the way down. It seems like something exploded here. Appears to be made of uranium. Luckily, we haven't taken off our suits yet. \n\nIt's too silent here, Emperor. We hear nothing. Not the animals, not the humans, nothing. All we hear is our footsteps and crinkling of our bags. We might have gotten here too late.\n\nTransmission #3\n\nWe found one of their reading materials while scouting. The front page reads about tensions with this place and another land across the ocean, called China. It appears there's more land then we expected. We might need more scouts to explore.\n\nMarmix found traces of shells along the floor. They seem rotted, but connected to one of the guns the humans told us about in the transmissions. A shotgun shell. Whatever it was for, it seemed to be for hunting, as we found another skeleton laying beside it. The skull is missing. Old blood is along the wall adjacent it. Perhaps another human hunted him for food. Marmix theorizes that the humans were cannibals, which goes against our theory of them being civilized. I question our theory myself.\n\nTransmission #4\n\nWe heard growling outside during the night. There's something out there, perhaps an animal or a human. However, our heat trackers saw nothing in the rubble. The beast must have ran, or hid. Emperor, maybe we should begin packing our things and wait for more scouts. There doesn't seem to be anything here that wants to talk to us.\n\nTransmission #5\n\nWe didn't hear growling tonight. No updates besides that, unless you consider Palog stubbing his toe on a rock being an update.\n\nTransmission #6\n\nMarmix is gone. He was missing from his cot in the morning, and there's no sign of him. Palog volunteered to look for him, but he came back at nightfall empty-handed. We're thinking it has to do with the growling we heard two nights before. Whatever it is, it may hold meat-eating tendencies for us in the worst scenario.\n\nTransmission #7\n\nPalog disappeared too. He left during the night, just like Marmix. No traces. Me and Longtus have decided to put ourselves higher up along the floors, and take guard duty to see if we can catch whoever is grabbing us. \n\nTransmission #8\n\nLongtus was on guard duty tonight. He told me something growled behind the door when I slept. He threatened the beast to leave us before he fires with his pistol. The beast left that night. We think we were successful in driving it off.\n\nTransmission #9\n\nChange of plans. It wasn't successful. The beast has friends. I heard much more growling then what we heard before. Longtus wants us to stage a way to leave. I told him we couldn't leave without your permission. I beg of you, let us leave. Please.\n\nTransmission #10\n\nLongtus is gone. The beast(s)?, whatever they are, took him while I slept. I have decided to go to the top floor, and hope that the beast(s) don't climb up here. If you bring another crew, tell them i'm at the top floor of the big building in the center of New York. Help.\n\n*\n\nTransmission #1**\n\nNo signs have been noted of the first crew that came here. We went to the building that Yalog told us about in his last transmission, but we found no one. The door was busted open. All we found was his pistol. It was empty." ]	7
	[WP] There exists a riddle that when solved supposedly will open the door to utopia. You know the answer, but refuse to solve it.	[ "\"What do you want?\"\n\nThus seemingly simple question has gone unanswered for years, though humanity as a whole solved it on the first day we heard it.\n\nTo answer this question is to give up the very humanity that allowed us to answer it. Without struggle there is no progress, with no progress there is no life.\n\n\"What do you want?\" - To be happy of course, but to exist in a utopia takes away our ability to appreciate it.\n\nFor once in the history of man kind there is peace on earth, as each government contributes to keep people away from the Door, to keep us human.", "\"No. I refuse.\"\n\nGreg, with his shaggy hair and his skinny jeans, folded his arms and shook his head. He alone had the key to the massive gate through which humanity could travel into Utopia.\n\n\"What do you mean, you refuse?\" the president snapped. \"Here's how this'll go. You open the gate, and you end all war, poverty, and suffering. Why is this so disagreeable?\n\nThe two had met at the stage built in front of the gates to the other dimension, a gate created so worthy versions of humanity could bask in the wonders of Utopia. No onlookers were present; none were allowed to be present, as one idiot could kill Greg and ruin this whole thing for us.\n\nGreg sighed. \"We've been talking this through for less than a minute. Can I just explain myself?\"\n\n\"Fine. We know that you know the phrase that'll open the door, so we'll argue with you for as long as it takes.\"\n\n\"Okay. So, the reason i'm not opening the gate is present within the riddle.\"\n\n\"Yes, the riddle inscribed on the door that merely asks, 'What is the answer'?\"\n\n\"A fine riddle indeed,\" Greg said. The words, \"What is the answer?\" which were written on the great seal of the massive stone gate had plagued humanity for nearly a century, and they still couldn't figure it out. But Greg knew, and this is why he was determined to keep the door closed.\n\nGreg went on. \"Haven't you thought about it? What is the answer? The question refers to our suffering, all out problems! But when we tried entering \"Utopia\" into the panel, it said it was the wrong answer! Don't you see? Utopia is not the solution to our problems! The thing on the other side of the gate is not to be trusted! \n\nThe president sighed. \"Utopia is the solution. They didn't mean the answer as in, the answer to our suffering. They meant something other than that. But, that doesn't matter. We wanted to have this ceremony where you, the person who came up with the answer, would solve all the problems of Earth as you were destined to. I suppose we'll need to bust out the drugs and torture; I really hate doing this, but see you in a little while. A bit of suffering for one man brings me no shame when it helps billions. \n\nThe dart pierced Greg's neck. He woke up a week later, chained to a chair in the very same spot where he stood before. He had told them the answer; it's a miracle what a gram of various chemicals and a bit of waterboarding does to a man. The president stood at the panel, ready to put in the answer to the question.\n\nThe panel asked. \"What is the Answer?\"\n\nThe president typed.\n\n\"Whatever I want it to be.\"\n\nBut it wasn't what the president wanted. Sure, he was the leader who took up the formal role of entering it, but it wasn't his decision to make, what was on the other side. It wasn't even Utopia's creators who could have chosen what was on the other side. Greg came up with the answer, so he got to choose. As the gate slid open, it revealed an infinite white space. Greg stared into it in horror, and everyone else in confusion. Greg tried his best to think nothing whatsoever, and begged to be shot on the spot. Nobody obliged his request. \n\nA man named Greg now found himself to be an all powerful being, able to conjure up whatever his concious, subconcious, or unconcious mind desired. He came up with the answer, so he got godhood. Utopia was meant for variants of humanity who had one individual among them capable of controlling his own mind. This man would be able to bring eternal happiness to his world. Greg knew he was not that man. Out from the white space, beasts of the subconcious, the id, whatever you want to call it, they came out. Massive, primal, unkillable things who desired above all else to act out Greg's primal evolutionary impulses, forgotten for so many generations until now. To kill, to butcher, to destroy, all he hated. And greg, deep down, hated humanity as a whole for what they did to him.\n\nHumanity didn't even last another week after the opening of Utopia." ]	2
	[WP] Excited to try out the facial recognition functionality on her new photo app, a young girl discovers a man has been present at every key moment in her life	[ "First time Poster :)\n\n____________________________________________________________________________________________\nKat twiddled a pencil between her fingers as the first year earth science teacher, Mr. Su, tried gallantly to make sediment layers interesting to the adolescent mind. He was failing. Kat's mind wandered; sediment, sedentary, elementary, fairies, the state fair last summer gorging herself on fried Oreo's. The crunch of the fried cookies and the stickiness of the melted cream lit up her brain. This delicious daydream was interrupted by a slight vibration on left side of her jeans. Sliding her free hand surreptitiously into her pocket, Kat tapped the home screen of her phone. It spat the time back at her, \"1:25 pm.\" She thought back to that Buzzfeed article she had read listing \"The Top Ten Signs You Wish You Had More Friends.\" Phantom vibrations were number 6. Her phone wasn't exactly blowing up since moving to D.C from Montana and starting over at Fairview high.\n\nKat scrolled through her phone apps looking for entertainment that wouldn't give herself up to Mr. Su. Her ears tuned back to the lecture for the briefest of seconds, \"Limestone forms the metamorphic\"; metamorphosis, sisyphus, rocks, placidly skipping stones at the lake house last summer. She longed for the sensation of digging her hands into the ground, sifting through the sand, touching something smooth and cold and hoping this was the one that would finally make it across the pond. Instead, she was mindlessly scrolled past instagram, candy crush, trivia crack and netflix. Unsatisfied with her virtual options, Kat reached to the top of her phone to click it off. But, just as her phone flicked from light to dark, it buzzed, for real this time. The surprise caused her to stiffen in her seat; she hoped Mr. Su hadn't heard. \n\nKat reopened her phone, \"google photos has been updated.\" It was 1:27. When was the last time she had even taken a photo? Kat loved, photography, like really loved it. The wall above her bed was plastered with photos, some by her, some by her hero's. She took pictures everywhere. Since moving, she couldn't even get herself to leave the house. School, house, school house. She missed home. \n\nKat opened up her photos app. The first photo was from the State Fair. She had climbed the top of a hill, capturing the fan fare below. Children rode the carousel, teenage boys threw balls at blocks for girls, a butter statue carved into the shape of a cow baked in the sun. The masses poured from the foreground. The background bloomed orange and pink with clouds resting in the sky. The phone buzzed again: \"would you like to try our new facial recognition feature?\" \n\nKat tapped yes, and little squares popped up framing the faces of the fair. She studied them, fascinated by the exasperation, boredom, and glee. As her eyes panned up, Kat noticed a square sitting at the top of a cloud. It was tiny, too small to make out what was inside. She placed two fingers together over the frame and spread them apart, bringing her closer and closer to the inside. \n\nAnd inside were two eyes, a nose, and a mouth attached to a square jawed head which connected to a translucent naked body, laying on the cloud. Kat rubbed the screen. He was still there, staring back at her with a wry smile, lips upturned, and a knowing gaze. Flabbergasted, Kat flipped to the second picture, a picture of her pond and quickly switched back. He was still there. Her mind was stuck, she couldn't comprehend what she was looking at. But her body moved quickly. It was filled with the warmth that comes from the gaze of a long lost friend, even though Kat had never laid eyes on him during her entire life. \n___________________________________________________________________\n\nTo be continued? If anyones interested :)\n\nTHANKS SO MUCH!\n\n\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] An evil scientist has been collecting stray hairs wherever he can find them and using them to clone an army. You are called to the front lines of battle and come face to face with yourself.	[ "Putting my hair in a ponytail was a lost cause. It was falling out at a rapid pace from all the surgeries and special diets and medicines I had to be on. Being conditioned and trained as a “super trooper”--as they so lovingly called us--was not easy, but it was necessary.\n\nInstead, I allowed my hair to fall flatly down my neck. We didn’t have many dress protocols with our special training, so the length wasn’t the issue. As long as I could keep it out of my way, I was fine.\n\nI tugged on a knitted wool hat my mother made for me before I took this assignment. Any of my hair that wasn’t immediately glued to my skill by the hat clung to my neck uncomfortably, but it stayed out of my eyes.\n\nOur assignment had little to no details. We just “need to be prepared for the worst,” according to our mission statement. I, along with 14 others, were called when things got so bad the regular troops couldn’t handle them. Cassandra, my bunkmate, was running her fingers over her smooth mocha skin.\n\n“I hope I don’t get hit here,” she said, more to herself than me, but I listened anyway. “My body draws them in and my face keeps them there.”\n\n“Slut,” I hissed jokingly. She shot me a cold look, but her smile warmed her complexion.\n\n“Whore,” she returned as she approached me, running one finger over the sliver of midriff not covered by my uniform. “Even the women stare when you dress like that, probably because they can’t.”\n\n“Yeah, but they don’t have to fast for a week each time the docs get some crazy idea in their heads on how to make us better.”\n\nCassandra nodded and flicked the hair hanging out under my hat. The affectionate gesture sent butterflies fluttering in my stomach.\n\n“Focus,” I said, reminding both of us what was coming ahead. This loving banter wasn’t going to change what we had to do. Blood would be shed. I put my helmet on over my hat, strapped it on, and headed for the armory.\n\n---\n\nThe battlegrounds were already soaked with crimson by the time we arrived. Medics were darting in between whizzing bullets to grab those who could saved. It was surreal each time, but at the same time, the reality of it dragged into an entire different mindset. I was no longer Delilah. I was #07. The middle of the pack, but the leader. Cassandra, #08, stood right behind me through everything.\n\n“#07, awaiting orders,” the other team called to me on the communication device in my helmet. I surveyed the grounds with a practiced calm, trying to get a good feel for what we were up against.\n\n“Delilah, is that you?!” Cassandra’s panic set a fire in me I could not tamper. I followed her widened eyes, and there I stood, across the field.\n\n“...#07, do you see this?” #01, Derek, was just as bewildered as Cassandra. “#08 is there too. What the hell is going on?”\n“Let’s move,” I said immediately, ditching the training I had clung to for years. “Now. Let’s show those imposters the real super-troops.” Gun in hand, I lead my team barreling toward the small group of 15 clones.\n\n“Imposters?” Somehow the clone of me heard my command. “Delilah, my dear. I’m you.”\n\n“I am me.” I responded in kind. Suddenly I forgot my gun was in my hand. Everyone was too stunned to fight. Even the clones stood passively, silently staring at their alter-ego, the same dead look in their eyes.\n\n“You are me too,” she retorted, her eyes nothing but blackness. “But you are a weaker me. Only one of us can run this world.”\n“Prove it,” I hissed. I felt Cassandra tense up behind me when her clone shifted closer to mine. The fake Cassandra threw herself at the fake Delilah, caught up in a sudden wave of passionate romance.\n\n“At least I’m honest with my heart,” she said with a smile, her teeth so straight and white they almost glowed in comparison to her eyes. “If you can’t be open with your team, how can they trust you?”\n\n“I have never lied,” I said with a voice that betrayed my fear. I could feel all the eyes except for Cassandra’s turning on me. She was looking away. That much I could tell, even without looking over my shoulder. “They knew what was important.”\n\n“I’m not important to you?” The Cassandra clone gasped, genuine pain edging her voice.\n\n“No, that’s not…”\n\nBefore I could finish my sentence, the fake Delilah lashed out, and everything went black.", "I’ve never had that great a memory. I mean, short-term, sure, but when it came to remembering things I felt like I should remember from my childhood? Not a chance. It was almost like I had no experiences at all prior to being around age 25. I don’t even remember birthdays, to be honest. I only remember that I was 25 three years ago, and even then, I only know that because of my military identification. 10-773, D.O.B. 05/08/01.\n\nAll of my recent memories were from the training facility. Dr. Orlovsky, the Good Doctor, as some of us called him, had everyone on a pretty strict regimen, and most days felt like the last. However, he had long been telling us that the Reckoning was imminent. No one was necessarily certain what the Reckoning entailed, only that it was what we had been training for.\n\nAnd then it happened. The lights throughout the facility were flashing a brilliant, and violent, red, and all activity immediately ceased. This is what we were preparing for. The Good Doctor’s face appeared on every screen in sight, explaining the urgency of the situation.\n\n“My children,” the Doctor said, his familiar, steely blue eyes unwavering, in stark contrast to the piercing red flashes. “The Reckoning has long been coming. Everything you’ve trained for -- everything you’ve lived for -- the time is now.” I glanced around the room, locking eyes with my fellow trainees. “Please, report to your barracks, and prepare for combat.”\n\nCombat. We’d definitely trained for it, but it never really occurred to me that I hadn’t the slightest clue who we were training for combat against. Regardless, if the Good Doctor said that this was it, it was. I’d never known him to be much for lies.\n\nI made my way back to my barracks. I was among the last to trickle in, but, luckily, I was already prepared. I checked my rifle one last time, making sure it was fully loaded and operational. \n\nWe loaded into cavernous, quad-wing transport crafts, their rotor blades already spinning. I sat beside my training partners, 10-772 and 10-774. No one said a word, although there was a nervous hum in the air. The trip was otherwise uneventful - and then our craft shook violently.\n\nIt seemed we’d been struck by something outside, and, as we careened downward, I said a little prayer. The Good Doctor had to protect us. \n\nThankfully, we landed, albeit awfully harshly. Everyone was battered, some bruised, some broken, but we were mostly fine. I unstrapped myself, looking towards the loading ramp as 10-917 pulled hard on the release lever. When it opened, so did the mouth of Hell.\n\nThere were suddenly bullets whizzing past my head, several connecting with my peers. In the rapidly-forming red fog, I dropped to the floor and managed to worm my way to the ramp. I wiggled past 10-917’s now porous body, the full view of the battlefield coming into sight all at once. I briefly rose to my feet. Briefly. Because as I did, a bullet sliced through my quadricep.\n\nI sprawled on the ramp, screaming and grasping my leg as blood gushed freely. I felt it then - I was going to die. Time was going forward in a ragged, slow-motion then fast-forward fashion. I wasn’t sure how long exactly had passed. I wasn’t sure of much of anything. Only that we had lost, training be damned. I was mostly numb at this point, the lukewarm red stream below me rapidly congealing. \n\nI heard… voices? My eyes were hazy, but I could make out green figures above me. These must be the enemy we had been training for. And then, my vision snapped into razor focus, a familiar face coming into view. \n\n“Wow,” he muttered. “I never thought the rumors were true.” He reached into my breast pocket, pulling out my identification. “10-773. My whole life reduced to a number.”\n\nI was staring into my own face. I wasn’t sure how to process this information. I was very certainly lying in a pool of my own, and my compatriots’, blood, yet here I was, standing over me. \n\n“W-... what is going on?” I stammered, hoping to come to grasps with what was happening.\n\nI saw myself grasp an unfamiliar pistol, suddenly staring down its barrel.\n\n“You’re not you,” my doppelganger said, a hint of sadness resonating in his voice. “My name is Robert Caldwell, and I’m a sergeant in the United States Army.” The slide on his pistol snapped forward into place.\n\n“You’re a clone of me. I don’t know how, I’m not really sure why, but I know this is unnatural. You shouldn’t exist.” He rested the barrel against my forehead.\n\n“I’m sorry.”\n\nA shot rang out. I felt a sharp pain in my head as my vision again went blurry, this time tinted a dark crimson. I still don’t understand what’s happening. My whole life was a lie? I was… a copy of someone else? I saw him? I saw me? Why can’t I move? Why can’t I speak? The dark encroached, the crimson slowly fading to black.\n\nAnd I embraced it." ]	2
	[WP] You are a supervillain who has just defeated the hero. But as you search through the ruins of his hideout, you discover that he thought you were a distraction from a far greater enemy...	[ "Will the look in his eyes right before he passed out haunt me until the end of my days? No… It’ll probably pop up when I’m on the john and I forgot my phone. I'll get a chuckle out of it. It wasn’t anger or fear, but confusion. I know that I tossed him around a bit before trapping him in a ball of water, but I don’t think I gave him a head injury. He just kind of seemed perplexed that I was going to be the one who killed him. He probably figured I wouldn’t actually do it.\n\nHonestly, I was surprised too. Not everybody gets a bite at that apple. Normally he had some sort of contraption that he could use to lever himself out, but he was not prepared today. I let him out after he passed out from lack of oxygen. I mean I don’t actually want to kill anybody. I’m not in this to hurt people. I used to help people, but then too many elementalists went bad and I got fired from the fire department. Nowadays I pay the bills by hassling the “good guys”. \n\nNow I go out on patrol, see the capes on the prowl, and I make their night interesting. Gives them something to do so they don’t hassle the elementalists. Sure, because of me, a bank robbery or two have to be handled by the police, but that’s their job, right? We handle our own anyway, an elementalist hasn’t committed a serious crime in months. One time some hot head starts burning a block to the ground, I made sure that he didn’t make it home that night. Once a fire fighter, always a fire fighter. We don’t need the capes to lay down the law for us.\n\nThese capes are shoot first, ask questions later kind of vigilantes and too many hard-up eles died before we started running interference. Too many friends killed just because they could conjure fire or confuse people. I even saw some guy with shot guns blast out a corner clinic run by someone who could do surgery with his mind. Justice. That was when I stopped cashing the unemployment checks and started trying to do some good.\n\nI roll him onto his side and check his pulse. Still alive. Most of his fire gear is soaked through and a few extinguisher pellets ruptured in the fight. Man he was not expecting me. Normally he’d have a grappling hook, a compressed air tank, and goggles or something. I clear the water out of his lungs and he starts breathing again. \n\nI pull out a few of his toys that look dangerous and pocket them. Don’t want to get caught un-awares. His smoke pellets sting my eyes something fierce and make me cough for a week. I leave a love note in his pocket so he knows I didn’t kill him and begin to leave. There’s a woomp and the room fills with smoke. I look around for the first time and see all kinds of medical supplies around. Not like first aid medical, but like lab medical. The kind of stuff you’d see in a skin graft lab where they’d grow replacement skin for burn victims.\n\nThere’s some footsteps and a cackle. I know that cackle. Mr Gadget-pants here wasn’t prepared for me because he wasn’t expecting me. He was here to stop a heist. I heft him over my shoulders in a carry and quickly shuffle to a dark corner of the room. \n\nI peek over the shelves and see the hot head that I stopped months ago stride into the room. He’s followed by a couple of mooks with scanning guns who begin scanning bar codes on the cases. As soon as one finds the case they’re looking for, the flame elementalist pushes him out of the way and opens the case. \n\nThe cape begins waking up and I put my finger on his lips. His eyes fly open but he gets the hint. I didn’t kill him and now I want him to be quiet. At least he’s quick on the uptake. He pats himself down and looks a little disappointed. It’s not the first time I’ve taken away his toys. \n\n”They’re here for the source. They can’t have that case.” I feel an exposition dump coming on since he pretty much stated the obvious. “Biotek has isolated the source of the elementalist powers and has created samples that can manipulate the elements on command. They also found a way to graft this into normal humans.” And that’s why he wasn’t expecting me. He was expecting a flame elementalist who was looking for the case.\n\nHe pulls out his few remaining toys and readies for a fight. I’d like to see this. Watching the capes try to take on elementalists is always fun. I even give him back a few just to make this interesting.\n\nThe cape climbs the shelves and begins creeping towards the thugs who are loading the case onto some sort of dolley for transport. He throws those nasty pellets and they begin coughing.\n\nFireballs begin blowing in every direction and little fires start wherever they hit. I pull some water out of the pipes and do fire control. Fire fighter, remember?\n\nThere’s the sounds fists slapping into faces and guts and the thugs are down for the count. A fire tornado spins up and blows away the smoke and the cape is revealed. He throws extinguisher pellets at the cyclone and it fizzles out. The hot head tries to blast his way through the cape but the “hero” is prepared. The fire doesn’t even phase him. \n\nWhat does phase him is when a mook wakes up early and gets the cape in a choke hold. \n\n“Kill him. Let’s go.”\n\nWe handle our own.\n\nI bring down a surge of water and drench the whole lot. Several shelves are knocked over and the case is lost in the wreckage. The mook is knocked over and the hero is swept towards safety. He throws some sort of metal doohickey that knocks the mook out and prepares to fight the hot head.\n\nHe’ll die if he tries. This asshole will kill to get his way and I can’t let that happen. \n\nI ride forward on a wave of water because I like the theatrics and know that this will be caught on the security camera. It’ll drive my prices up next time when the footage hits the evening news. \n\nI make sure that the cameras don’t see what’s next. The hot head does the hod headed thing and begins throwing fireballs at me. I block them with just enough water to fill the room with steam and then focus on him. \n\n“You’re giving us a bad name.”\n\n“So?”\n\n“I can’t let you do that.”\n\n“Fuck You.”\n\n“You were going get a civvy get killed.”\n\n“I’ll kill you too.”\n\nThe magic words. This is self defense now. I reach out and find him in the steam, a sentient ball of water and protein, calcium, and lipids. \n\n“I let you live once. I thought I put you down. I won’t make that mistake again.”\n\n“Fuck You.”\n\nI will every molecule of water in his body to suddenly change position. The solid bits of him don’t stand a chance and he turns to soup. There isn’t even a gurgle as he liquifies and joins the flood already in progress. He won’t bother anybody again.\n\nThe cape is staring at me, his mouth wide open and I think he wet himself even more.\n\nI help him to his feet and tap him on the jaw with my fist. \n\n“Hey, remember that time five minutes ago when I didn’t kill you?”" ]	1
	[WP]One day, you and four people come across a stone, that connects all of your souls. Every hurt one of you feel, the rest feel; every good thing affects all the rest. How does that affect you all over the years?	[ "It's all my fault. They were real people once. They were once my friends. We used to play in the woods that neighboured our small town, catching frogs and digging for treasure. Then one day, we found some. It looked like a beautiful shell to me, irridescent with fractal patterns. To Michael it was a small bear made of knotted wood. Emma saw a deep green gem. Rachel, a gleaming medallion. \n\nWhen I moved to London in my twenties I had seen over ten therapists to get to the root of my diagnosed manic depression. My parents had no clue what to do with me. Some days I was an average ambitious girl, others were spent hiding under my blankets hating the world. My relationships had been crutches to help stabilise my emotional state. I dated hard, exciting men who could roll with the daily chaos but would inevitably leave for their own adventures once I had ceased being novel. It worked for a while. \n\nIt wasn't until a few years later when social media was thriving that I finally got back in contact with my old friends. Only to find they had the same diagnosis as me. Their lives were spent trying to hold onto jobs and make the rent. I don't deny that even then, my privileged position strummed a twang of guilt inside me. I lived with my parents and would inherit an enormous fortune when my grandfather passed. My unfortunate friends, they had the real world smashing up against their insanities. \n\nWe chatted about the good times, when we were able to wake up knowing what our day was going to be. Then Emma brought up the strange object we had found. She had kept it after beating the rest of us in a thumb war. What she began to explain made the hairs on my arms stand up. \n\nShe explained how sometimes she still saw a gem. Other times it became a shell, sometimes a bear. Sometimes a gold medallion. Michael and Rachel began texting hurriedly. Wasn't it strange that nobody else saw anything but a rock? Could this have something to do with what was happening to us? \n\nI couldn't handle it. My therapists had warned me about the possibility of falling into a delusion, blaming my problems on supernatural causes. This was especially easy to do in a group setting. This is what I told myself. But the truth was, I knew something was happening to us. I just couldn't handle hearing about how much more miserable their lives were compared to mine. \n\nEmma was a single mother whose family had abandoned her. Rachel was a maid working for an abusive employer. Michael was a borderline alcoholic. \n\n I said my goodbyes and blocked them. It's my fault.\n\nGrandfather died and I became rich. And I did what all spoiled rich girls do to escape my problems. I partied. I took drugs. I slept with man after man. And none of it mattered because I had the money to get myself out.\n\nI destroyed them. I destroyed my friends. Can you imagine being at work trying to maintain your mental faculties and having an entire twenty-something millionaire's lifestyle is thrust into your skull? \n\nEmma lost her child to social services. She's in a mental facility still screaming about having never done cocaine in her life. Rachel is pregnant with her employers child. I've set up a secret fund to assist her with the costs. Michael disappeared. I believe he is homeless and I'm trying to find him. It's my fault. It's all my fault.\n ", "We thought it was a joke but it wasn't. At first it was good, we were all about to graduate and were looking forward to life. The feeling became stronger in each of us and we hung out even more. Every good time was amplified by all of us, but so were the bad times. I could feel Fin's stress at the same time I felt Gabe's joy, and Quip's depression. I could let Smiths happiness take away my dread of life. Over the years sometimes it got hard as we grew more apart. \n\nThere was always a mix and overtime the feelings grew weaker which helped. Sure waking up mad, depressed, or overjoyed for no reason was always weird, and i hated myself for feeling bad because I knew I was forcing it on my friends, but when someone was truly happy we all knew and loved it. After a while we could all tell who was feeling what, and helped each other more becoming closer. \n\nWhen Gabe died we all felt nothing for a while, then sadness and anger were all I and any of the others felt for a month. One end down, every feeling was less from then on. One day all four of us remaining met up. Fin had got an okay job and liked his life, Smith had grown more blank and used his minimum wage job to support an apartment where he lounged around all day researching as he called it, Quinn's job had become stressful and with the recent death of Gabe he had been taking time off, I was doing fine myself, not as well as I would have liked but I still had enough. \n\nFor years our lives went on connected, and we kept feeling each others emotions steadily less and less, it got lonely at times but also liberating to feel nothing. Then we all kept feeling nothing. One day I got a text from Smith\n\"I did it, we are finally free.\"\n\nWhen I saw him next he was perfectly calm and blank, just like the rest of us had been for a while. \"You are all welcome, this will finally be over,\" said Smith calmly before walking away and leaving us speechless. \n\nI haven't seen the others in a long time, and I haven't felt anything even longer. Don't go to that one pawn shop, every town has one, and don't buy any stone relic necklaces. They destroyed me, no not me us.\n\n" ]	2
	[WP] Dreams are actually visions of people's deaths, however you can never tell who the person is because you dream as the victim. You've just dreamt of someone getting murder by your 6 year old son.	[ "It happened again last night. I’ve been trying for six months since it started to keep these dreams from happening, but I don’t have control over it. I’ve given up trying to find out why this is happening to me. All I know is that time and time again I am getting killed. It started with the dream that I was delivering packages. I knocked on the door and was immediately met with a handgun and killed. I woke up that morning feeling disoriented. I remembered too vividly how it happened. The blood everywhere. I didn’t think anything of it until I heard of the murder of my next door neighbor. When I told my family they didn’t believe me, I was crazy they said.\n\nIt has been six months since then I have the dreams every couple of nights. Each more gruesome than the last. Accidents, torture, crimes of passion, I have experienced it all. I’m afraid they won’t stop. \n\nLast night I had the worst of all. I was laying on my bed having just woken up. As soon as I wake up my son who is only six years old stabs a pipe straight through my neck. I immediately wake up and it happens again. I don’t know if I am still dreaming or not, but I ask for your help." ]	1
	[WP] The vet discovered a strange object in your cat's neck: It's a bugging device.	[ "I awoke with a start, knowing something was wrong. I looked outside, and the neighbour's dog was outside again. Like every morning. Listening. This time, probably to the hum of the air conditioner. It's amazing what you can find out with a properly trained dog. \n\nOf course I was being more cautious these days. The police had informed me of it all - there was nothing they could do to prevent this mongrel being in the communal yard, and unless I found some hard proof that the dog was downloading my internet history via my air conditioner, they would be unable to really act. \n\nBut how? How do you prove this to the general public? I would come across as insane, I knew that, and so I just became more careful with my browsing history. \n\nThe dog, of course, didn't care. He was just a tool; a conduit for whoever was trying to figure me out. So he sat by the air conditioner, or the BBQ, or wherever he was told to sit that day, and tried to tap into my privacy. \n\nToday didn't seem to be different. The dog was outside, the traffic patterns as obviously \"random\" as always, the odd pattern of burned out lights on my other neighbour's porch... Why were those never turned off, anyway? And what did today's pattern mean? \n\nBut something was off. I got up, turned on the water to block the radar scanning of my house, and made a coffee loudly. I don't drink coffee, but let 'em think I do! Eggs too - hate them. Buy 'em by the crateload. Never give them the truth. That's my hard-earned lesson. \n\nAnd still, this nagging doubt. Something. Something. But what? \n\nI put on a green foam hat and peered through the blinds. Why was there a moving truck across the street? I didn't remember them selling the house. Are they maybe moving in a higher-powered scanning unit of some sort? It looks like a couch, but their trickery is deceiving. \n\nI needed to get out. Away from the spying and prying. I went to the garage, and... there it was. A little cat, sweet and soft. Shivering, lonely, and hungry. White as the driven snow, innocent. \n\nThe world, somehow, felt right. I brought him inside. \"Snowden.\" \n\nI spent the morning with Snowden. Life seemed brighter. \"Let 'em listen,\" I thought, and for once I was carefree. Snowden was the cuddliest thing I had ever seen. His warmth radiated into the room. It was the dawn of a new life. \n\nFor the first time since I came home from the war, I got a job. It was just night cleaning a factory, but it was a job. I went out with friends I met, and every day, when I got home, Snowden would greet me with a purr and a lick. All my fears faded away as I learned society was not, in fact, out to get me. No one was spying. No one cared about my air conditioner. Even that damnable dog got treats from me from time to time. \n\nEventually, I moved. I got out of town and took Snowden. We went to visit a new vet for a check up and some vaccines. Snowden was happy to be in his carrier as long as he was with me, of course, but the vet was standoffish. Oh well - What's the worst that can happen? I can always pick another. \n\n\"But now this is funny. You say you never microchipped Snowden?\"\n\n\"No, why?\"\n\n\"Because he has a microchip, and I happen to know the family had a cat stolen exactly like this, right near where you're living. I can't let you leave with him.\"", "A voice, filled with static, came over the minuscule comms device. “Mr. Mittens, your position has been compromised. We’ve got an evac, ETA ten minutes.”\n\nMr. Mittens, a grey tabby and member of the Kittens Underground Posse Society, let out a soft mewl of acknowledge; currently Mr. Mittens was lying prone on a sterile operating table as some little squirt of a veterinarian examined Mittens’s feline form.\n\n“Is Carl Jr. going to be okay?” Becky Ryans, Mr. Mittens’ target, asked.\n\nMr. Mittens let out a vile hiss. Carl Jr.? The name disgusted him; he was a high ranking operative within K.U.P.S., and she labeled him Carl Jr.; disgusting.\n\n“I believe so. But ma’am, we found something rather strange during his checkup. It appears that Carl Jr. has some sort of electronic device embedded into his neck. If you can come over here real quick and take a look.” The vet said, reaching for Mr. Mittens’ neck.\n\nMr. Mittens let out a guttural meow, and hopped up to his paws. His position had been compromised, he needed to escape and get to the evac point; his cover had been blown.\n\nA look of surprise filled the vet’s face as Mr. Mittens twirled towards him. A pair of slashing claws scratched across the vet’s outreached hand, easily shredding through the latex of his gloves and just barely breaking the skin. The vet’s hand recoiled, a handful of minor scratches covering his fingers and hand.\n\n“Ouch.” The vet said, shaking his hand.\n\n“Carl Jr.!” Becky Ryans cried out, shocked. For the past three years, Carl Jr. had been nothing but a saint to her. This sudden shift in behavior shocked her to her very core.\n\nMr. Mittens snarled at Becky, and slashed her across the forearm before jumping off of the sterile operating table. Several agitated meows followed Mr. Mittens as he fled the veterinarian’s office.\n\n“This is Mr. Mittens to K.U.P.S. headquarters. I’ve made my escape and am currently heading to the evac location.” Mr. Mittens purred softly into his comms mic as he ran across streets and alleys, desperate for escape and survival.\n\n“We hear you loud and clear Mr. Mittens. What about the data dossier on Becky Ryans’ actions at her place of work, the Department of Defense?” Headquarters replied.\n\n“I already sent a package to headquarters this morning when I’d heard of the vet appointment. The package should be arriving later this week.”\n\n“Excellent. Good work Mr. Mittens. We’re looking forward to brining you home.” Headquarters replied before terminating the connection.\n\nMr. Mittens gave a small nod as he rushed through alleys filled with all sorts of trash and other hidden delectables. The smell of rotting fish and mysterious trash meat filled Mr. Mittens’ nose, but he ignored the temptation. His mission took precedence over everything else. Even the temptation of slightly no longer fresh tuna couldn’t sway his will power.\n\nAs he ran, Mr. Mittens thought about his mission to infiltrate the home of Becky Ryans, one of the chief engineers over at the Department of Defense. The mission had been simple, gain access to Ryans’ home, and then access to her heart. Mr. Mittens’ was to gain Becky’s trust, and then would be there for her when she was slightly drunk and ready to part with the national secrets which burdened her at work. The amount of data Mr. Mittens had obtained was astronomical, it would be of great help to K.U.P.S. and their pro-kitten agenda.\n\nJust then, a crashing and scattering of cans caught Mr. Mittens’ attention. The grey tabby spun around; his eyes wide in horror and shock at what he saw. Three men in black suits stood several feet away from him, transparent security headsets dangling out of their ears. They’d caught up to him.\n\nWith a shiver of fear, Mr. Mittens looked from the three suits, to what lay at their feet, a nervous gulp enter his throat. Dozens of cans of high quality tuna and salmon sat on the ground. Mr. Mittens stared, his willpower waning. In a decisive moment, Mr. Mittens jumped on the cans, letting out a fierce meow.\n\nIn his excitement, Mr. Mittens’s comms relay fell out of his ear. A staticky voice came over through the tiny device, laying now on the cold concrete of the ground.\n\n“Mr. Mittens, come in Mr. Mittens. We have reports that you’ve got a tail. Please, respond Mr. Mittens!”\n\nThis time, however, there was no reply from Mr. Mittens to headquarters. Headquarters let out a collective sigh. The bastards had caught Mr. Mittens, and he was one of their top agents no less.\n\nAll that headquarters could hear was the frantic mewling of Mr. Mittens as he gave in to his base desires, and caved in to the lure of fresh tuna and salmon.\n\n---------------------\n\nHope you enjoyed it. I've got a sub, r/ThadsMind, with other stories if you want to check that out. There's actually another story I've written that relates very much to this one, so if you're interested [here's](https://www.reddit.com/r/ThadsMind/comments/5dmgwj/wp_youve_submitted_countless_writing_prompts_but/) the link for it." ]	2
	[WP] You can hear the Banshee crying. It lets you know when someone is seconds from death. One day while walking, you get close to a person and you hear the Banshee. But this time, She has a maniacal laughter.	[ "I'm new and also I'm no story writer so it's probably shit. :) Plz correct me where it's a bit weird or tense is wrong.\n\nThe banshee's cry, a sound so horrific and shrilled that it would chill anyone to the bone... except me. For me it's almost a daily occurrence. Usually I hear it in hospitals but also sometimes randomly on the street. The cry signifies that the nearest person only has a few remaining seconds to live. This time though... I was terrified. \n\nI was simply enjoying the day, every piece of the puzzle which made nature so captivating. The sounds of bird chirping in the oak trees above, the gentle breeze blowing through my untidy, black hair, and the toy boats bobbing across the small pond. This is paradise. Until.\n\nA strange black clad woman forcefully walks into me and just continues walking without apologising or even acknowledging me. As I open my mouth to call the woman back, instead I cover my ears from the deranged, raving laughter of the banshee. Crumpling to the ground, nearly deaf, I stared at the woman disappear into the crowd. \"Why was the banshee laughing?\" The question lingered around for a second before realising why. \"Oh no! That woman... Oh God no!\"\n\n\"RUN!!\" I screech as I frantically scramble to my feet sprinting straight to the crowd, flailing my arms, and repeatedly screaming for them to run away. The group just stood there glaring at me as if I was a mad man. \n\n\"I beg you, please...\" My voice fades as I fall to my knees ready for what was to come. Boom!\n\nAlternate ending:\n\"I beg you please...\" My voice fades as I fall to my knees ready for what was to come. Head drooping, eyes closed, I knew I failed them, failed myself, failed God. He should've picked someone more competent for this gift. I wait and wait except nothing happened. Cautiously I lift my head up and open my eyes. I meet the gaze of about 20 people curiously staring at me. \"Wait, where is the explosion? The banshee was laughing... That means she should've done something crazy...\" Suddenly an epiphany hit me. \"The banshee cries when someone is about to die not laugh.\" Flushing with embarrassment I clumsily attempt to stand up and run away at the same time. \"Fuck, I'm stupid.\"\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] The sweet old Wal-Mart greeter is secretly a ...	[ "Reluctantly, I pull into the Walmart parking lot. Target’s so much nicer, you know? Well, except for that one cashier… the one who tells stories that are uncomfortably personal and tries to guilt me into opening a REDcard every time I’m there. The problem is that, well, it’s 5:30 in the morning, I’m out of tampons, and Target doesn’t open until 8. Just a quick in-and-out trip, and it’ll be all over, I reassure myself. Of course, the already full lot gives me pause, but I have no other options this close to home. Walmart it is. Damnit.\n\nOn the approach, it occurs to me that the designation of the entrance and exit doors seems to be backward. “Fitting,” I mumble. Feeling rebellious, I enter through the exit door anyway and begin my dash toward the feminine hygiene aisle. “In a hurry?” the elderly Walmart greeter asks, with entirely too much cheer for this hour of morning. “Oh, uh… sorry. Hi there!” I reply, slowing my pace a bit while remaining intent upon getting out of there as quickly as I can. As I make eye contact long enough to flash a half-hearted grin, I notice that while her hair is an unmistakable shade of Roux Fanci-Full Blue, her eyes… they’re mesmerizing, almond-shaped pools of the deepest, darkest brown I’ve ever seen. The clarity and the way they shine, it belies her age. “Do you need a cart, honey?” She winks at me as she points toward the cart corral. “Nope! Just here for a quick trip,” I tell her as I wave and continue on my way. \n\nFortunately, the other patrons seem to have wandered in to take advantage of rollback prices on some TV, the brand of which I’d never heard of before. It’s just as well; I’m in no mood to exchange pleasantries before I’ve even had my first cup of coffee. I grab my box of Tampax Pearl and hear the advancing shuffle of feet. Just as I round the corner, there she is: the old greeter. “You finding everything okay?” I didn’t think they let those people leave the front of the store. “Yeah, just fine, thanks,” I say. Her name is Leigh, according to her badge. “Interesting,” I remark, pointing to her name tag. “Leigh. That’s my name, too.” She smiles at me and we strike up a brief conversation, commiserating over how often our shared name is misspelled and mispronounced. I glance at my watch. It’s nearly six now. I wonder if my husband has bothered getting the kids out of bed yet, or if he’s waiting on me to return home and take care of that, too. With a sigh, I bid Leigh adieu and try to determine which of the two open checkout lanes is the shortest. \n\nAfter an eternity waiting behind a lady who insists on price matching every item in her cart against the circulars from two other stores, I pay for my tampons and make my way toward the exit. I breeze past Leigh, who is too busy talking to the other greeter to acknowledge me, and walk – this time through the “correct” door – toward the parking lot. Immediately, everything seems… off. It takes a moment for me to process what I’m looking at. The cars seem smaller, rounder, shinier. I turn around and look back at the store for a moment, then rub my eyes as I prepare myself to return my gaze to the parking lot. It doesn’t work. Everything is still weird and futuristic. “What the fu…,” I start, but I’m cut off by a withered hand on my shoulder. “Did you think I’d let you leave without saying goodbye?” Leigh says, her goofy, crooked smile and piercing brown eyes now looking vaguely threatening and… familiar. Just then, a voice calls out. “MOTHER! Are you pestering your customers again?” A blonde woman of about 50 approaches us, apologizing profusely for the inconvenience. Leigh extends an arm to guide the woman closer. “Leigh,” she says, “I’d like you to meet your daughter, Olivia.” Confused, I look at the two of them. Surely, she doesn’t mean… But any doubts I have about how to interpret her gaffe are erased the moment Olivia rolls her eyes. I’ve seen it hundreds of times before. In fact, I had just seen it last night when I told my 16-year-old daughter – Olivia – to please just wipe her goddamned feet for once because I don’t mop for my health, *do you understand me?!* \n\nI feel woozy. I begin to lose my footing and Olivia grabs my arm. “Let’s get you to a seat, okay?” We start to head in through the door marked “EXIT” and she stops, giggles, and redirects me toward the entrance to our left. As we make our way through the automatic doors, a tiny sign catches my eye: \n\n“STORE MANAGEMENT IS NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR IMPROPER USE OF ENTRANCES AND EXITS.” \n\nWith a twinkle in her eye, Leigh turns to me and says, “Bet you won’t make that mistake again, will you?” \n\n\n--------------------\n\n^note--I ^was ^halfway ^finished ^with ^this ^before ^realizing ^I'd ^kind ^of ^missed ^the ^\"secretly\" ^part ^of ^the ^prompt, ^but ^it's ^late ^and ^I ^was ^too ^far ^gone ^to ^change ^course. ^My ^apologies." ]	1
	[WP] You wake up in a different person's body every morning as a modern day Cupid, and are given a 'target' to make fall in love with you before the day ends.	[ "I'm waiting for him outside the bar now. This time around I'm a busty twenty something college student, sitting perched outside on a bench while flipping through my phone. Well, it's not really my phone I suppose, it's Sarahs. \n\nI've done some pretty fucked up things in the name of this job throughout history. When God gives me an assignment, I can't exactly turn it down. Some days I love what I do, there have been times when I've orchestrated romances so beautiful they'd make Juliet weep. There have also been times when I've had to implement infidelity, incest, and just downright political instability. Today's the worst though. This might be my worst romance.\n\nInside the bar right now is a man in a navy blue suit with neck length brown hair called Marcus Black. Marcus Black is explaining to his cancer-stricken wife why he won't be coming home tonight and (very poorly) devising some story about a last minute conference in Portland he has to attend. Marcus Black is a dentist with a wife and two kids. He used to have three kids. I've just put a potion in his drink to make him fall absolutely in love with Sarah. Come tomorrow, the real Sarah will wake up in her body and have memories of tonight happening exactly as it did, only she'll have thought that she was in control the whole time. I look down at my short denim shorts and plaid shirt, dirty blonde hair and big breasts and sigh heavily. \n\nMarcus steps outside of the bar. He's smiling, but his eyes are in pain. The potion is in effect, but I've been using it for almost 5000 years now and can tell where it's effects stop and Marcus's crushing sadness begin. \n\n\"Oh, wonderful. Let's go!\" I say with a smile, extending my hand to grab his. I can't do this anymore. I just can't be a part of this, maybe someone else can, but in 5 millennia my heart has never ached so much. I pull myself out of Sarah's body, invisible to human eyes in this form, and reach into my satchel for a special potion. I don't think God knows about this one, but it's my only option. He's not exactly the type to forgive people who don't perform his will.\n\nMy eyes begin to close, my senses deteriorating, I just hope Sarah snaps back into her body and ends this madness. My awareness ends, I fade to black.\n\nI wake up and examine my surroundings. I'm walking in a crowded city and holding some girl's hand. I turn around and see a blonde in a plaid shirt attached to my hand.\n\n\"Marcus, is everything alright?\" \n\n\"Yes love,\" I reply. \"Everything is fine.\"", "It's disorienting, waking up in a new bed every morning. The alarm varies, maybe there's a dog rubbing its nose against your hand... if you get lucky, you end up as someone with their coffee pot on a timer. This, however, was not one of those mornings. This guy's a mess, I thought, pushing myself up on my elbow. Clothes on the floor, aching back... is that a pair of underwear on the lamp?\n\nI pressed the heels of my hands to my eyes and flopped back against the pillow. \"Ugh,\" I groaned, testing out his voice.\n\n\"Shh, let me sleep another minute.\"\n\nWide awake now, I bolted upward and whipped my head around to look down at the figure lying next to me. Sure enough, there was a faint glow emanating from her -- she was definitely the target. I warily lifted my left hand. Yep. Wedding ring. Shit. This was going to be a day. ", "The face of a young woman materialized in his dream. Long blonde hair framed a beautiful face. A full lipped smile that would make any man's heart melt. Playful eyes that teased at endless possibilities. Cupid had seen countless women during his lifetime but this one may be the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on. Whoever Cupid was about to be, he was one lucky guy.\n\nHis eyes fluttered open as the image of the woman slowly faded away. He gave a stretch and began the process of familiarizing himself with his new body. Toes wiggled underneath the sheet as he slowly became aware of every part of the new body. Comfortable with his legs he swung them out from underneath the sheets and stood. These legs were a bit shorter than his last host, it would take a few practice steps to make the stride seem normal. \n\nHe glanced down at his body and was surprised to see a shocking amount of body hair. A thick almost animalistic amount of chest hair mocked him. \n\n\"Nothing some wax can't fix!\" Cupid said cheerfully, \"let's see the rest of what we are working with.\"\n\nHe walked into the bathroom and flipped the light on. The face that stared back at him froze him in his tracks. \n\nRecord scratch!\n\n[VOICE OVER]\n\nCupid has gotten his most difficult mission yet! He has twenty four hours to convince a super model to fall in love with an everyday kind of guy. \n\nThis summer, Rob Schnieder stars in, Cupid! \n\n---\n\nFor more stories check out /r/Written4Reddit\n\n " ]	3
thanks to my shower for this one	[WP] Humans are awarded points daily for physical health, mental well-being, intellect, endurance, will power, good deeds, etc. Everyone is ranked globally and stats are tracked religiously.	[ "Luke rolled out of the bed and rubbed his eyes, his watch dinged. Luke jumped at the ding looking down he saw he had way too many notifications on it. Groggy and concerned he opened the first notification:\nWELCOME TO THE TOP 10!!! \n\nLuke was very confused when he had went to bed the night before he had barely any points at all compared to everyone else he knew. Luke was a notorious slacker, and he had never held a job for more than a few months, never had a worthwhile relationship with anyone family, friends, romantically you name it. Anything at all that generated points Luke did not do it. He often joked his life goal was to be ranked last place just once in his life. \n\nHis phone rang displaying a number he didn't recognize, \"Hello?\"\n\n\"Luke Smith! Pleasure to speak with you, my name is Mitchell, I am the finest agent in the land I represent many top 100 citizens and I'd love to set up a meeting with you! Are you free today?\"\n\nLuke sighed, \"Look Mitch I'm sorry but, there has been a glitch in the system, I am not supposed to be rank 4, at all.\"\n\nMitch laughed, \"Such a joker this guy!\" \n\nLuke annoyed said, \"Look I went to sleep last night ranked in the 9 digit range and woke up this morning ranked fourth place you can't tell me that's real and not a glitch.\"\n\nOnce again Mitch laughed, \"Someone hasn't visited their own website!\" \n\nLuke walked over to his desk and opened his laptop, he typed in the URL for his forum site he had made in support of his favorite game series, on the top of the recent posts was a post with tens of millions of views. It was a standard asking for life advice post that people posted in the off topic section, Luke had given this guy what he thought was standard advice. Overnight the guy had, left his abusive relationship, won the lottery and kicked his drug addiction. This guy then used his lottery winnings to fund multiple charities thus causing a chain reaction every charity in the world saw a huge increase in donations. OVERNIGHT. \n\nLuke smiled a sly smile, finally he'd get to never work again he was going to cash in, big, on all this publicity." ]	1
	[WP] Reborn into the modern world, Jesus and the Antichrist have fallen in love and are getting married. God and the Devil are not happy.	[ "\"What do you mean 'in love'?\" \n\"I mean in love, Michael, have you forgotten the concept? Need I remind you of the several nephilim who to this day wander the Earth bearing a striking resemblance to you?\" I swear, sometimes the higher ups play dumb just to make things difficult for the average working angel. \n\"I know what falling in love is, Zirdiel, I don't need your sarcasm. I'm just giving you a chance to explain yourself\". \nI had done it again, upset the archangel. \n\"I don't know how else to explain it. Emmanuel and, you know, the other one, have fallen in love and are right now living together\". I said, keeping the most un-sarcastic tone possible, it doesn't pay to anger the bosses too much. \n\"Jesus Christ!\", Michael exclaimed, then tensed as the shocking pain of taking His name in vain ran through him. \n\"Yep, that's the one, and also the other, you know\", I said pointing down. \nMichael shot me a killer glance, which had I been a human would have killed me. \n\"Just to be clear, we're talking about Emmanuel and the Anti-Christ\". Said Michael. \n\"Yes!\" I hurried up to say, then caught myself when I realized that for some reason the notion of Emmanuel in love with Lucifer sounded much more disgusting, like a niece with her uncle in human terms. And apparently, going by his expression, Michael shared the feeling. \n\"The Boss is not going to like this\", the archangel said. \n\"The guy downstairs won't be happy either\", I said. \n\"How would you know that?\" \nDamn, he caught me. During my years watching over Emmanuel's incarnation in Her Twentieth to Twenty First Century, I had made contacts. The other side was also constantly spying on Her, doing their oppo research, and you get to know the people doing your same job but for the enemy. In this case however, I had gotten even more familiar with Belchor, the demon in charge of looking after Lucifer's Daughter, Princess of Darkness. We had shared surprise to find ourselves in the same city so early on during the prologue to what was supposed to be the End Times, then shock to witness the undeniable chemistry between the two girls, then an uneasy alliance given the fact that, with them living together, we had too see each other all the time. \n\"I've heard the peons of the Legion talk about it\" I told Michael, leaving out details. \n\"Deceit!\" the archangel's voice boomed. \"Surely this is trickery by the Enemy, it's their plan to...\" then his voice faltered. To what? He couldn't say it, could he? The Enemy's plan to seduce the Daughter of God, to corrupt Her, to deceive Her? That's not supposed to be possible, She can't be deceived, corrupted or seduced, She's perfect. \nAnd of course She hand't been, deceived I mean. She had been the first to know who Her counterpart was. She had, though, allowed Herself to be seduced, the other girl had had no chances, by the time the Princess of Darkness had realized what was really going on and that she wasn't actually corrupting anyone, she was clearly madly in love with Emmanuel. \n\"Yeah no, the opposition was freaking out just as much as you- as we are\" I said. I had been freaking out, at first, but after that I hadn't been able to put into words what I was feeling. Because what I had been feeling was the need to continue basking in the warm fuzzy glow of the girls' love, like a cat on a windowsill in a summer afternoon. Belchor had felt the same, which explained why we had taken so long to report the events. Now Belchor was gone and I could not keep the secret any longer. \n\"He should have never made the Earth off limits to His direct gaze\", rumbled Michael, his sword hand was already twitching. \n\"Yeah, I agree with that, but He did and unless He's planning to break the Rule of Causality, what's done is done. So, what now?\" I asked, watching that sword hand nervously. I could totally see Michael going to do something stupid. \n\"We must tell Him, of course\". \n\"Well, since you're going to tell Him, might was well tell Him the girls are planning to get married\", I said, putting all my emphasis on 'you' and hoping the rest would keep him from noticing I was not offering myself to go up there to give those news to the Big Boss. \nAfter Michael was done convulsing over the next stream of swearing, we just sat there, I keeping my wings neatly folded so that my superior could let his spread. \n\"I can't tell Him that\", said Michael, staring into the distance, archangels can really stare into the distance, their gaze is positively many worlded. \n\"Do you remember the earthquake last week?\" I asked. \n\"What? Yes, what about it\". \n\"That was when the guys downstairs told Lucifer. Belchor told me, he's the demon who was watching over the Princess of Darkness by the way, he told me he was going to Pandemonium to tell his boss about it. After that the earthquake happened and I haven't seen Belchor again...\" I left my words hanging, we both new the likely fate of a demon who gave Lucifer unwelcome news. \n\"The Enemy found out first then?\" Michael asked, tensing. My neck felt very exposed, his sword looked very sharp. \n\"Yeah, but, what was he going to do anyway? It's not like he can harm Emmanuel, and believe me, She wouldn't allow Lucifer to harm Her beloved\". I hoped the implication was clear that She also would not allow some archangel to harm Her Princess of Darkness. I may not actually like Michael, but I didn't want to see him blinking out of existence. \n\"And besides the earthquake, Lucifer indeed has done nothing\". Michael's expression was changing and I realized what he was thinking, maybe he could sell this as a good thing. \n\"I suspect he's been very angry, down there, but no outwardly action has been taken\", I agreed. \n\"Last time the Big Boss was angered, things didn't went well for this world\". Michael was testing the outer edges of the scenario. There's one thing I can say for him, the archangel really likes humans, human women particularly, there really are several nephilim walking the Earth who resemble him a lot. \n\"Well, last time He was angry with the humans. This time He can't blame them\".\nMichael shot me a sideways glance which told me \"oh yes He very much can, omnipotence works in several ways\", but said nothing. After all, God wasn't supposed to directly strike the Anti-Christ down during the End Times scenario, and directly wiping out the whole of Creation, which was always a last chance possibility, would mean destroying the relationship His Daughter was in and since She was, well, His Daughter... what? What then? He probably could do it, but She was His Daughter; wasn't She also, well, Him? Trinity logistics are tricky even for angels. \n\"You can stay here, Zirdiel, I'll go tell Him, and if you're still aware of existence after a day, we will probably- Creation will probably be fine\". I felt like hugging the archangel, but I just nodded. He knew this could be his last act and he wasn't ordering me to stand next to him before the wrath of the Lord." ]	1
	[WP] After years of complaining that the world is out to get you, the world sues for defamation of character. Since all lawyers are a part of the world, you have to defend yourself in court.	[ "''Is it true that you have told people on multiple different occasions that the world is out to get you?''\nI sighed. ''Yes.'' I said. I knew that if I said no, the prosecutor would just bring forth another witness.\n''How many people have you told these lies to?'' he asked.\nIt are moments like these that I'm glad I've watched a lot of Law and Order. In the calmest manner I can, I answer: ''Objection your honour; he's testifying with that question by implying that what I said was a lie.'' Luckily for me, it was sustained. The prosecutor couldn't share my happiness however and came forth with a more aggressive question:\n''But this world is the only reason why you are alive, correct?''\nI unnoticeably roll my eyes. ''That is correct.''\nAre you claiming that this world, this GIVING world which has brought countless of lives, is out to get you?''\nI appear calm when I say: ''Yes.'' On the other side of my cool exterior though I'm burning with rage.\n''So, do you have any proof of these claims?'' The prosecutor asks while looking intimidating in my eyes. The prosecutor doesn't know that I wanted him to ask this question. From the moment I got dragged into this court I knew I wouldn't be able to win my case otherwise. I breathe in deeply while I formulate the sentences in my head. After I have my defence ready, I unknowingly tilt my head a little and start to smile:\n''First things first, mister Prosecutor, if that is even your real name (surprisingly, it was not), I must say you have beautiful eyes.'' This out of place compliment caught him slightly off guard and caused him to break his intimidating eyecontact.\nI continued: ''You see; you already said it yourself. This world is the only reason that I am alive. Therefore, this world is also the sole reason why I will die. For that reason, I felt entitled to saying that the world was out to get me.'' \n\nHe looked surprised. He desperately tried to counter my argument, but before he could formulate another question the judge started talking:\n''I think that is enough for now you two. I have heard enough, and for the sake of this plot I will immediately call the verdict: The defendant is not guilty for defamation of character on a technicality. The world however is not forced to continue it's generosity.''\n\nSo, after this ruling I technically won the case, but after being abandoned in outer space I have started thinking that maybe I should've just paid a fine for defamation." ]	1
	[WP] A MOBA (DOTA or League) match in the perspective of the minions/creeps	[ "Welcome to summoners rift \n \nYOU HEAR THAT? GET READY FOR THE BEST DAY OF YOUR LIFE SOLDIERS! \n \nThe minions stand in line inside the spacious room of the Nexus, it is their first day as soldiers and they are proud to serve their king. \n \nI WILL GET YOU TRAINER AND STRONGER WITH EVERY MINUTE YOU ARE IN HERE, YOUR GOAL IS TO DESTROY THE ENEMY PALACE, DO YOU HEAR ME? The taskmaster screams from the entrance down \n \nThe melee minions hit their weapons against their shield, the ranged ones let small fireballs explode \n \n \nThe taskmaster grins \n \n30 seconds till minions spawn \n \nOKAY THE FIRST ROW PLEASE FORM, YOU LEARNED THE FORMULAR, THE OTHER ONE TO THE TRAINING RACKS \n \nthe minions quickly form the first and second wave while the other ones go train to get stronger \n \nOKAY YOU ONLY CARE FOR THEIR TOWERS, MONARCH PALASTS AND THE KINGS ONE, DESTROY EVERYTHING IN YOUR WAY, THERE WILL BE SOME GUYS THAT ARE LARGER THEN YOU, IGNORE THEM FOR MOST OF THE TIME AND JUST GET TO THE OTHER SIDE, OUR COUNTRY RELIES ON YOU! \n \nthe minions get excited and run out of the gate in Joy \n \n\"poor Bastards\" the taskmaster mumbles to himself. \n \n 40 minutes later \n \nThe taskmaster looks over the few minions left inside the palace \n \nWE ARE ENOUGH LEFT FOR TWO WAVES AND NONE OF OUR MONARCH PALACES HAVE BEEN DESTROYED, THIS IS LOOKING LIKE A VICTORY, GET READY \n \nAs the last minions get out of the door the taskmaster hears the explosion, stating the end of the fight, the victory and also the death of every minion out there due to the explosion... He sits down and cries \"they are so young, the don't know they are there to die, to entertain the gods...\" \n \nAs the gates inside the Nexus open and a new army of minions flood the training grounds he wipes the tears away and stands up... \n \nWelcome to summoner rift\n \n", "Welcome to summoners rift \n \nYOU HEAR THAT? GET READY FOR THE BEST DAY OF YOUR LIFE SOLDIERS! \n \nThe minions stand in line inside the spacious room of the Nexus, it is their first day as soldiers and they are proud to serve their king. \n \nI WILL GET YOU TRAINER AND STRONGER WITH EVERY MINUTE YOU ARE IN HERE, YOUR GOAL IS TO DESTROY THE ENEMY PALACE, DO YOU HEAR ME? The taskmaster screams from the entrance down \n \nThe melee minions hit their weapons against their shield, the ranged ones let small fireballs explode \n \n \nThe taskmaster grins \n \n30 seconds till minions spawn \n \nOKAY THE FIRST ROW PLEASE FORM, YOU LEARNED THE FORMULAR, THE OTHER ONE TO THE TRAINING RACKS \n \nthe minions quickly form the first and second wave while the other ones go train to get stronger \n \nOKAY YOU ONLY CARE FOR THEIR TOWERS, MONARCH PALASTS AND THE KINGS ONE, DESTROY EVERYTHING IN YOUR WAY, THERE WILL BE SOME GUYS THAT ARE LARGER THEN YOU, IGNORE THEM FOR MOST OF THE TIME AND JUST GET TO THE OTHER SIDE, OUR COUNTRY RELIES ON YOU! \n \nthe minions get excited and run out of the gate in Joy \n \n\"poor Bastards\" the taskmaster mumbles to himself. \n \n 40 minutes later \n \nThe taskmaster looks over the few minions left inside the palace \n \nWE ARE ENOUGH LEFT FOR TWO WAVES AND NONE OF OUR MONARCH PALACES HAVE BEEN DESTROYED, THIS IS LOOKING LIKE A VICTORY, GET READY \n \nAs the last minions get out of the door the taskmaster hears the explosion, stating the end of the fight, the victory and also the death of every minion out there due to the explosion... He sits down and cries \"they are so young, the don't know they are there to die, to entertain the gods...\" \n \nAs the gates inside the Nexus open and a new army of minions flood the training grounds he wipes the tears away and stands up... \n \nWelcome to summoner rift\n \n", "Welcome to summoner's rift! \n\n'hey, you ready?' I heard as I turn my head towards whoever was speaking to me. 'aren't we all? or aren't we naturally supposed to be ready at all times?' I replied as I saw that it was the siege minion that asked me that ice breaking question.\n\nIt's been 3 month's since my first patch into this world, and every day for more than hundreds of times throughout the day, I am respawned to wage a never ending war. The war you might ask? well, the higher ups call it an arena from the institute of war that settles scores between warring factions, But in my eyes all these are just variations of red vs blue, nothing special really, nothing changes, no one dies anyway.\n\n30 seconds until minions spawn!\n\nIt's not a sad life, nor is it merry, it's just a life filled with repeated patterns of kill, be killed, live again and die another day, heck I don't even think its worthy of the calling of life! I just think that all of these things aren't my choice anyway, I just follow, I just attack, nothing to it.\n\n'hey, you lost in thought again?', 'be like that and the Rito will surely patch you to 'fix you up'' the siege minion, chuckles to me as I unenthusiastically shrugged his taunt. Well it doesn't matter anyway, patch me away, nothing changes, it's not my life I live anyway, it's the summoner's will.\n\nMinions have spawned!\n\n'Alright let's get to with this!' the new minions exclaimed. it's funny how new minions always get excited on the first days of their patch, they are the recycled remnants of whatever past minions died to make them, and still they dismiss that fact because they think they have a new start. new, start my ass! \n\nI check to see my lane champion. 'let's see' I'm at top, so uhhh, damn, yasuo again' I thought in dismay. 'And hes AKF?!, so much for instalocking! damn all you top players! you chose top yourself on the start screen, I SAW IT, and you just AFK to leave us to die, goddamn', 'It's another hell hole of death and respawning for us'. I thought as we approached the outermost tower.\n\nA summoner has reconnected\n\nWell its about time, all the first wave except for me are dead now, so much for their enthusiasm early on. And now for my own deminse in 3 ...2 ...1. 'Huh?!' oh the yasuo TP'd how kind of him. well this survival is short lived ... hey what the fuck! Stop dashing, you're on a level gap! No you're about to die!\n\nFirst blood\n\n'damn it' I said dying in the hands of the enemy Xin Zhao right after he vanquished our Yasuo, I thought those words not because of my death, but because of how stupid the Yasuo was, well it's the same old routine for the hundreds of plays I've seen before, no use in complaining.\n\nI am now in the bot lane, respawned, the new minion up front of the wave respawned as well but this time not with enthusiasm, but with the thousand yard stare glaring from their eyes. their walks filled with hesitation to return to the front lines. Can't blame them really, I was like them in my first days on summoner's rift, like them I entered battle, like them I was enthused to join, but also I died continuously, like what will happen to them. It only takes around a hundred deaths to get used to the pain for one to ignore it completely.\n\nFirst tower bonus gold!\n\nDamn our bot lane isn't doing so well, but thankfully still no deaths apart from Yasuo of which has held himself pretty well since we died, hopefully we still have a chance with 0-1. \n\nPower surging\n\n'Whoa this is awesome!' I heard someone say, as I eventually respawned in mid lane, the score went on to balance itself once more with the top lane gaining a 1-1 on each other and the bot lane trading both supports. the minion who exclaimed those words before had currently been given banner of command, what a rookie. Well i got to hand it to our Morgana mid laner's summoner, she knows her way around heimers. \n\nI saw the upped minion mow through heimer's forces finally only being vanquished with the tower's help. man banner is scary when you're heimer, i thought as i died once again.\n\nThe enemy team has slain the dragon\n\nWell this is bad. I'm now a siege minion, and the enemy team has slain the fire dragon. this is gonna hurt my ass pretty soon late in game.\n\n25 minutes into the game\n\nThe enemy team has slain Baron nashor\n\nThe situation now went from early game, to late game flaming. the Yasuo eventually rebounded from recovery to Afk due to 'No gank top', the mid laner is now with the score of 2-11. And the bot late can't stop flaming each other due to 'No warding' and 'Map awareness motherfucker, do you speak it'. The jungler? well ... Rengar sure loves pouncing in his grass! \n\nWell another day another feeder, I thought as we approached near end game.\n\nEnemy team has destroyed a tower\n\nEnemy team has destroyed an inhibitor, superminions spawning\n\nEnemy team has destroyed a tower\n\nEnemy team has destroyed a tower\n\nDEFEAT\n\nWell, all I can say was it's all inevitable. it was bound to end this way anyway. So the game unloads, and its back to the starter screen. For us minions we go straight to the menu of game lists to rejoin other games, to live out the 'fullness' of our purpose. \n", "\"We had heard of them, and were brought up to fear them. All of our lives are spent training just so we can be used as cannon fodder, as they fight. \"Champions\", \"Heroes\". Mere nicknames for mass murderers. They parade through the battlefield, killing thousands of people just because of the \"them vs. us\" mentality. I've been deployed once, and luckily for me, our forces had the upper hand that day. My squadron watched horrified as a friendly champion annihilated what must have been 20 souls in a single breath of fire.\n\nOur forces then pushed through, as more champions joined us. One of them was morbidly obese, had a humongous hook, and looked as if he was put together from multiple creatures. A true abomination, we all thought. Another one was a small, fox-like creature that even the other champions seemed to hate. All I knew is I hated them all.\n\nThey played with life as if it were a game. We pressed on in the southernmost battlefield, destroying every enemy fort in our way. As we destroyed the enemy base, \"Victory!\" boomed throughout the battlefield, but it sure didn't feel like we've won to me. Our champions seemed extremely pleased. They would all receive promotions for their deeds.\n\nUs, however? We were to remain the rank of creeps, or minions, or whatever people call us. Simply cannon fodder. Always ready to go into battle, and witness something no man should witness. We lost many good men that day. The enemy did the same.\n\nToday, I've been called to arms again. Last I've heard, the situation is dire for our forces. I had to tell my son that we may never meet again. As much as it pained me, I had to steel him for whatever was to come. My wife didn't take it all that well, but I know she will pull through.\n\nI hope this letter finds you well, and I hope you can forgive me. The crimes on humanity my comrades and I have caused are atrocious, but know that I did what I had to do.\n\nFarewell, friend.\"\n\n-The last letter Admiral Lewis sent before being killed in action" ]	4
	[WP] There is a demon inside of you, but most of the time, you don't even notice. Every time you fall asleep, however, it gains just a little more influence.	[ "I'm tired. So very tired. But I can't sleep, because if I sleep it's all over. If I sleep he wins.\n\nThere is a demon inside of me, a creature of pure hate and malice that sits inside my soul and calls it his home. It started off so small, so weak and lacking in influence that I myself never noticed but, every time I sleep, it gains just a little bit more power. I was 17 when I first noticed that it was there, a void in my heart inside which I could feel such terrible thoughts, thoughts of death and destruction, of madness and the end of all life. For the first time, I felt what pure evil is, the desire that creature feels to bring about such terrible and violent ends for seemingly no reason at all. At first, I could feel it only in my dreams, a presence that pervaded the increasingly insane and violent dreams. It wasn't a physical presence, but I could feel it, the anger and hatred that was seeping into my thoughts, my feelings, my life. \n\nBut once it grew, it became an ever more present companion, I could feel it in the dark shadows of my mind, every black thought, every negative emotion, my rage and fear, my hatred, all of them became the dwelling places of the demon. It fuelled them, it set alight the fires in my heart and watched them burn, it would watch my world collapse around me. It pulls the strings of my mind, it shows me things, such horrible things, worlds and creatures that I can barely comprehend. It pulls the strings to drive me to insanity and those twilight hours, as I lie in the darkness, alone, as I drift off into slumber, are its dominion. I can feel it stronger than ever before now, a constant weight dragging my heart down to oblivion, its.... there now. I can feel it slithering and crawling under my flesh, through my blood, behind my eyes, I've tried to cut it out but it isn't working. I can't stop it anymore, they tell me I need help and that I'm not mentally sound. I don't believe them, I can feel it, I know it's there, I'm not mad, I'm not mad, I'm not mad, I'm not mad.\n\nSo I won't sleep, it comes in dreams and I can't allow it to take any more control of my body. I'd kill myself but I don't know that that won't just give it full control of my body anyway. So I will go onward, in my living prison, I will not give in. I will not sleep, I will stay in the light of day. Forever, if need be. \n\n-------------------------------\nNote from the author: Wasn't sure how to end that one, I kinda wanted to keep some ambiguity as to whether or not he actually is possessed although I don't know how well that came across. \n", "Pazuzu knew the possession deal was too good to be true.\n\n At the time, it had seemed like the human had practically given his soul away; for a price like infinite WiFi, who wouldn't? But the way it jumped onto the idea had given Pazuzu some reservations about the supposed flawlessness of his plan. If the human had had any brains, surely it would have been a bit more hesitant to essentially kill itself?\nIn the end, Pazuzu convinced himself it was pride, and that the foolish human believed that it could out-trick the demon. \"No one can escape Pazuzu!\" the demon cried with glee before it settled down in preparation for the takeover.\n\nHowever, after roughly ten days, not a drop of influence was held over the human in question, and Pazuzu was stomping around its nest, pulling out large chunks of feathers. The demon began to worry that the human had managed to kill itself somehow, essentially escaping the bond of the contract. Its whole deal was to take over a living human, because Pazuzu just wanted to eat some hotdogs again without getting reprimanded by Lucifer for not doing its job correctly.\n\nAfter checking to see that Pazuzu's mark had not expired, the demon decided to check up on his victim's welfare personally. After storing up some energy and materializing in a grand \"CRACK,\" the demon ended up in a large van with essential foodstuff scattered everywhere like piles of garbage.\n\nOh, and there was a mountain of empty energy bottles heaped carelessly in the back of the van. It looked like the human had carelessly mixed different brands together. It was a wonder that it wasn't already dead.\n\nPazuzu turned to the front of the van, where he found his human sitting at a sweet gaming rig connected to an electrical generator.\n The human hadn't even noticed Pazuzu's arrival.\n\n\"Ah-hem\" Pazuzu cleared its throat politely.\n\nThe human, completely engrossed with his game, failed to respond.\n\n\"AH-HeM\" Pazuzu said, a little bit louder and closer.\n\nA sad sack of potatoes in the corner of the van answered. \"Don't even bother, he didn't even respond when the tow truck came.\" After inspecting the potatoes, Pazuzu determined it was actually a lumpy human. Ordinarily, it would be interested in this sad deformation of nature, but currently it was rather miffed at having its hotdog ticket seemingly escape the contract.\n\n\"How long will it take for it to fall asleep?\" Inside its head, Pazuzu is contemplating the sanity of talking to a potato-human, but it really just wanted to possess its human, eat hot dogs, and maybe even get a promotion. It figures that if the human ever goes to sleep, it can just nab the whole thing at once. Wasn't there a clause in the contract about the severity of the sleep or something?\n\n\"Never.\"\n\n Pazuzu snaps his beak in surprise. \"That's impossible,\" it states, growling at the sack. \"Humans can't stay up forever.\"\n\n\"Well,\" the potato-man begins, \"He's not entirely human anymore. The combination of energy drinks, MMORPG, and limitless WiFi seems to have turned him into a zombie.\" The sack shuddered. \"Now all he craves are lootboxes.\"\n\nLooking around, Pazuzu notices the food has mostly gone bad, and the smell of sightly rotten flesh permeated the van.\nIt sighs.\n\nWelp. Back to recruitment it is then. Pazuzu can't help but make a sniff of disdain. \n\n\"I can't even reuse its HELLSPAWN WiFi account. Stupid human.\"\n", "The moment I close my eyes, I fall asleep, and desperately try to wake up.\n\nNothing stretches in all directions. No ground, no light, no air. I am standing amongst the void, and begin walking to the abyss. A familiar path. The false reality breaks as I raise my hand, cracks of light forming, and through them comes a sword, before they heal over into nothingness once more.\n\nDarksbane glows white, as though made of trapped light. A simple sword, almost a fencing foil it's so thin and narrow, but still clearly a blade. Effortless to move, and I have much experience with it by now.\n\nThe nothingness fades into darkness, and I cross the threshold of the abyss.\n\nIt's cold and vast, grounded by what looks like chipped, black marble, and the sky is a brilliant white obscured by an incredible depth of water, reduced to the memory of light rather than any actual. In the distance, the ground rises a few stories tall.\n\nI am not alone.\n\nThe things of the abyss smell me, having no ears nor eyes. Smell the blood rushing through me. Scavengers, they circle me at a distance, waiting for one to test my strength. If they all charged me at once, I don't know if I would make it. But, they never have, never will.\n\nTo remind them of who I am, I crack my sword against the floor, and they recoil, whimpering. After a few seconds, they forget, and snarl, raising their heads high. I walk forwards, and they move to keep a constant distance from me. Though they can't hear, they keep growling, and it rattles through the ground.\n\nI wait, and wait, and wait.\n\nThere it is.\n\nMy foot turns, and stride adjusts, and I face behind me. Darksbane a blur of light. Where there was one thing, there is now two halves. Howls ring out, and the space between me and them grows. Then, another bounds at me, and I turn and kill it. Another, and another, and another. Howling and whimpering, and, finally, silence, as they flee.\n\nI take a deep breath, and turn back to my path. It's a long, peaceful walk.\n\nThe incline begins, and gradually steepens, until it becomes a wall that I climb up, and finish by pulling myself up over the vertical edge. On the plateau, I see a familiar creature.\n\n“How well you kill.”\n\nI let the words slide over me.\n\n“It feels good to have that power, does it not?”\n\nFamiliar words.\n\n“Do you feel closer today?”\n\nHaunting words.\n\n“Did you remember the feeling of bloodlust when you last woke?”\n\nI approach, careful, holding Darksbane in a tight grip.\n\n“Are you going to hold the hatred you have of me with you all of tomorrow?”\n\nThe laughter echoes throughout the abyss, thunder without lightning.\n\n“This game we play, how unfair it is. After all, you have to win every single time.”\n\nI hold Darksbane in position, and prepare myself.\n\nLightsbane emerges into existence, as though the darkness itself is compressing into metal.\n\n“I, on the other hand, must only win once, and then it is over.”\n\nWithout any more to say, to listen to, it begins." ]	3
	[WP]A crazed fan rushes the stage, knocking you off of it. You are left hovering 5 feet above the entire crowd. Camera flashes follow.	[ "\"I think we're done here,\" Marcus Wells rapped his knuckles on his mahogany desk. My lawyer was a clever, loyal man and my accomplice. He'd helped me hide my abilities for over a decade. \"Irrefutable evidence,\" he went on. \"We can't deny that this happened.\"\n\n\"Look,\" I stared around the office. \"It could be a fake. People don't know. How many videos like this are on youtube?\" \n\n\"Countless videos,\" Marcus said. \"But you were seen by thousands of your fans, Rob. Thousands. And for what? Some drunk asshole shoves you, so you used your powers rather than let yourself fall.\"\n\n\"I caught myself,\" I said. \"That's all I did. I didn't think. I didn't have time to think.\"\n\n\"Well,\" Marcus said. \"Because you caught yourself, now fifteen generations of the Wind Lord's Exile has come to an end.\" He shook his head. \"I should have turned you down, all those years ago. Just because we were friends as a kid, I still should have known this would be impossible.\"\n\n\"We had a good run,\" I said. \"Years of success. We made a lot of money.\"\n\n\"You play a mean guitar,\" Marcus said. \"But now what? Your kind, their powers, people will know. And your ancient foes, those people you mentioned, won't they all be after you now? Isn't that why your family and the other families hid?\"\n\n\"Yeah,\" I said. \"But I'm trained. I'm just rusty.\"\n\n\"Rusty enough to ruin your cover,\" Marcus said. \"We had to do so much to convince the Council of Winds to even let you start taking bar gigs, and now look where we are.\"\n\n\"We just need a good lie,\" I said. \"People are gullible. They don't want to believe that strange things exist. If the public believes a lie, the old enemies won't notice anything, either.\"\n **************************************************************\n<Currently Trending - Indie Rock Sensation, Robert Sky, began viral marketing for the upcoming movie, Flight Knight, coming to theaters fall 2017. Sky, who appears to be floating in this video, fooled thousands of concert-goers, before announcing his involvement in the film.>" ]	1
	[WP] "Wait a second... Is anyone here NOT an undercover cop?"	[ "Gil heard loud hip-hop music coming from inside what he suspected to be a crackhouse. The hot sun beat down on his back, his bullet-proof vest only drawing more sweat from his body. Pulling his handgun from it's holster, he held it close to him as he put his hand on the doorknob. He turned his wrist and pushed the door open, and stepped into the door frame with his gun pointed out in front of him. \n\nThe room was empty, and the music seemed to be originating from another section of the house. The room was a mess, littered with empty bags of junk food and all sorts of garbage, not to mention used needles and empty pill bottles. He pulled his radio from the front of his uniform to his mouth.\n\n\"Requesting backup at 18 Tigris Lane. Standby and do not engage until I say so.\" \n\nHe slowly stepped forwards, mentally preparing himself for the shootout that could soon follow. To his left, out of nowhere, he heard a toilet flush and saw a man in a dirty muscle shirt and a pair of ripped up cargo pants emerge from a side door. \n\nSeeing Gil with his gun drawn, the man opened his mouth to speak. Acting quickly, Gil moved towards him and pointed his handgun directly at him. He brought a finger to his lips and the man closed his mouth, fearing for his life. Gil walked towards him and motioned for him to turn around and face the wall. Keeping his gun pointed at the man, he patted him down. Reaching his pockets, he felt something tucked away in one of them. Not sure what he would find Gil reached carefully opened it and reached in, pulling out what appeared to be a police badge.\n\n\"I'm a cop,\" the man whispered to him. \"John Bernards, I'm undercover investigating a tip we got that this was a pot dealer's house\" \n\nImmediately assuming the badge to be fake, Gil examined it. Surprise at its apparent legitimacy, he handed it back to the man who introduced himself as John. \"How many are in the next room?\" he questioned.\n\n\"Just two,\" John responded, \"One of them is armed\".\n\n\"Alright, let's move.\" Ready to shoot if needed, Gil pushed the next door open. \"Freeze! This is the Police! Drop any weapons!\" \n\nThe room he entered was almost empty, aside from two couches and a table. Two men sat at the couches playing cards, with a third hand lying nearby (presumably John's). As Gil entered the room both men stood up quickly. One drew a gun and cocked it, while the other reached into his pocket. He continued to take his hand out of his pocket, and proceeded to show Gil yet another badge.\n \n\"George Williams, DEA. Don't shoot\" Gil didn't trust him but as far as he could tell he was unarmed, and there was a clearly greater threat pointing a gun in his direction. \n\n\"Hold on,\" the man with the gun said, dropping his gun and pulling out another badge that looked to be real, \"Is anyone here not an undercover cop?\"\n\n---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nCheck out my other work at /r/FindingNico523\n\nI'm new to WP's so there are only a few now, but I plan to do them quite often.\n ", "The Don sat at the head of the table, stroking this beard, smoking a cigar. His suit was tailored and fit him like a glove. His rings gleamed in the light of the expensive chandelier that shone above his head. He waved his hand lazily, signalling that he intended to speak. The other three men at the table, Killer Joe, Sweeney the Swindler, and Kilo-Dealer Kevin, all ceased their chatter. They listened, waiting for the Don to speak, perked up with anticipation. \n\n\"So,\" said the Don.\n\nHis words hung in the air like the scent of his cigar, whose smoke was curling in slow silver rings, widening, dissipating, disappearing. \n\n\"Gentlemen,\" he said. \n\nThe men knew that his dramatic pauses, his tension-building silences, were the prelude to some great announcement. \n\nThis is what I've been waiting for, thought Killer Joe, more properly known as Officer Joe Molloy of Bookem County. \n\nJoe had been working undercover as an assassin for hire in order to infiltrate the Don's network for the past three years. All the \"killings\" he had performed at the behest of the Don's cartel had actually been staged. Joe had not killed a single person during his time undercover. \n\nJoe was currently wearing a wire. He was finally partaking in a secret meeting with the Don and his higher ups, and would finally, he hoped, be asked by the Don himself to do something illegal (he had only ever been assigned jobs by the Don's henchmen). By getting the Don on tape, Joe could bring him down along with the other two men present, thereby crippling the Don's whole operation. \n\n\"I've gathered you all here today,\" said the Don, \"for a very special purpose.\"\n\nOh good-ee! thought Sweeney the Swindler, more properly known as Detective Lawrence Sween, of Cookem County. He had been posing as an ex-lawyer turned advisor for the Don's organization for the past three years. He had, only yesterday, been told he would soon receive access to all the Don's organization's paperwork, which, he hoped, would outline all the Don's illegal operations. As long as this meeting went well, by tomorrow, Sweeney would be given the key to the motherload, a vision of the paper-trail that led from each of the organization's illegal activities to the Don himself. With that information, Sweeney could cripple the Don's whole operation and send the Don, along with the other two criminal higher-ups present, to prison.\n\n\"There is a certain,\" said the Don, \"shall I say--problem that will need solving. And I think the three of you might be able to work together in order to solve it.\"\n\nJust don't push the \"call for backup\" button until he's revealed his dastardly plot, thought Kilo-Dealer Kevin, better known as Special Agent Kevin Levin, of Hookem County. You've come too far, infiltrating not only the Don's network, but the networks of his major suppliers in South America, to screw this up by pressing the button too early. Just don't mess this up, aim the microphone of your wire well by sitting up straight, and wait till he says something incriminating. Once he does, then press it--backup will storm in, and you can bring him, and the other two knuckleheads sitting here, down.\n\n\"But I want the three of you,\" continued the Don, \"whom I trust, to see this problem as an opportunity. An opportunity to take charge of your own destinies, to become the men you were born to be, to become great.\"\n\n\"What is it Don?\"\n\n\"Yes, please tell us.\"\n\n\"We're all ears, sir.\"\n\n\"The first thing I have to say is directed at Sweeney. Yesterday, when I told you I would be giving you access to all my organization's paperwork, I was not lying, though I was concealing my true purposes. Although you will have access to all my organization's paperwork, you will have no more access, strictly speaking, than anyone else.\"\n\n\"I don't understand,\" said Sweeney.\n\n\"I've burnt all my records,\" said the Don. \"Every last one. And I've cut ties will all my previous associates. I wanted this to be a clean break, you see.\"\n\nHe paused amidst the great astonishment with which the room vibrated, and then recommenced:\n\n\"My organization is being dismantled, piece by piece, as we speak. By tomorrow, there will be nothing left of it, and certainly nothing left to lead any busybodies back to me. Any problematic members who knew too much have been taken care of. By tomorrow there will be only a vacuum and an insubstantial memory of this great syndicate of which I was the head.\"\n\n\"B-b-but why?\" stuttered Killer Joe. \"Why dismantle your whole operation? You're the Don of the West Coast, for god's sake.\"\n\nThe three undercovers were panicking. Everything they had worked for, all they had risked over the past few years, would all be for naught if the Don pulled out of his operations like this.\n\n\"You see,\" said the Don, dreamily, \"I've fallen in love. Deeply, madly in love. I've made enough money by now. And I've hidden it well enough throughout the globe so that my love and I will never want for anything. And even if I had no money, I would never want for anything anyways. I need nothing but her. She is the light of my life, you understand.\"\n\n\"But you said--\" interjected Kilo-Dealer Kevin.\n\n\"I know what I said,\" interrupted the Don not unkindly. \"I would never love again, after those--those pigs! those bastards!--shot up my house and killed my first wife. But the fires of hate will consume you if you do not let them ebb and burn away. Consume you utterly! Life is too precious to let such fires burn away all your human feeling, all your connections to the important things in life. I have been set ablaze by a new fire--Lucia!--and have seen by the light of that fire that my criminal ways must to come to an end. So...\"\n\nThe Don took a deep breath. Exhaled. Recommenced.\n\n\"So. The opportunity I present to you three is one of possibility. There will be a criminal vacuum in my absence. Someone, or some group of people, intelligent, knowledgable about the crime world and this city, will need to take over, will need to fill that vacuum. I can think of no better trio than you. You are all eminently capable. You have all major corners of the mafia business covered.\"\n\n\"But what about all your connections?\" asked Sweeney. \"Surely we will need them in order to get off the ground.\"\n\n\"You must make new connections,\" the Don replied. \"Everything I built up is now gone, lost to a past I disavow as unreal as a nightmare. I've scratched it from the record of history and scratched it from my mind. There is now only the future. For you three, that future is a future of gold, for me, one of love, one of Lucia.\"\n\nAt that the Don pushed back his chair and stood up. He walked through the room of stunned silence to the door, through the door, and up the stairs to his helipad, on which sat a helicopter. Its engine started. Its blades cut through the heavy night air, heavy with the sweet perpetual twilight of love. \n\nAn attendant helped the Don into the chopper, and seated him beside her, Lucia, the love of his life, his confidant, the only one whom he trusted to tell all his secrets. Secrets about his past life. About his old misdeeds. About his terrible, bloody, ruthless and criminal past, a past like a noxious soil out of which he had improbably grown and blossomed into a man of great love, pure love, everlasting love. \n\nShe looked at him warmly as he sat down. She took his hand in hers--Lucia, lovely Lucia, also known as Special Detective Lucia Banks of Fakem County.\n\nI nearly have everything I need, she thought bitterly as she smiled warmly, to put this bastard, the man responsible for my father's death, my brother's death, and the deaths of countless innocents and officers, away for a lifetime. And as soon as I know the whereabouts of his offshore accounts, I'll throw the book at him, this slimy rat of a man, once and for all.\n\n\"Shall we?\" asked the Don.\n\n\"Yes my love,\" she said.\n\nThe Don waved at the pilot and the chopper rose up into the night.\n\n---\n\n/r/lalalobsters\n\n\n\n\n\n\n" ]	2
	[WP] On your 18th birthday, an angel appears and says, "Your free trial is over. Please purchase a subscription to continue with Life."	[ "Simeon winced as The Angel peeled off the simulator from his sweaty brow. She stood over him menacingly with a crooked smile and her tablet at the ready. \n\n\"Did you enjoy your experience, sir?\" Her breath reeked of endless void and some sort of melon. He tried to think back before the memories faded.\n\nThis time he'd gotten to be a teenager on the North American continent, a welcome change from some of his recent simulations in the sweltering deserts of Egypt. He'd even gotten the extra luxury of a middle-class childhood and adolescence filled with sports and sleep-overs, growing pains, and angst. A real bargain experience, those 18 years had been some of his best on a free trial run. Simeon figured it might be well worth the subscription price to continue into adulthood for this one. It had been awhile since he'd felt this hopeful.\n\nThe process of Renewal, however, never ceased to be jarring. He could still feel the stinging under his skin. \n\nAt one moment he had been asleep in his bed, and the next he awoke to what felt like a bomb going off in his room. All he could remember was the sickening ringing in his ears and what felt like a million little needles pricking his skin. He dropped to the floor, his muscles paralyzed and his vision black. \n\nSimeon shook his head, trying to regain his bearings. The Angel was tapping her foot and humming a faintly familiar tune. He tried to smile weakly though he felt like vomiting all over the simulator bay. \n\n\"How many souls will it cost me to get rid of this sensation, Angel? I'm not fond of feeling torn asunder...-ripped from my body.\" \n\nSimeon tried to sit up to stretch his legs but doubled back over from the pain. The feeling was returning back to his body slower than usual. The Angel continued to hum as she tapped on her tablet, scrolling through pages on protocols, risks, and costs. Simeon had been her only scheduled Renewal for that shift. She dragged open the population efficiency tab and looked it over carefully. A wide grin spread into the far reaches of her face. \n\n\"You're in luck, Sir. We're over capacity and we should have no problem renewing your subscription. It will only cost you 3 souls and has a life-time guarantee.\" She winked and tried to stifle a laugh. Her cackle bounced off the vacant walls and back into Simeon's ears, giving off the illusion that he was surrounded. Simeon sighed.\n\n\"Where do I sign?\" \n\nThe Angel hovered next to him as she handed him the tablet. She knelt down next to his ear and whispered, \"It's one of our cheapest rates. You can't go wrong, Sir. We have a que of people scheduled for Collection. It will be quick for you. We promise.\"\n\nSimeon felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. They had promised him the same thing for the last century. It had never been easy. It had never been quick. He looked down at her tablet to see the pictures of three glowing faces. A woman, her face smiling under the fall of night, an elderly man battling a fit of coughs, and a child, not much younger than his own siblings had been. He turned away from their eyes feeling sick to his stomach. \n\n\"I'll need the names.\" \n" ]	1
	[WP] Cats are said to have 9 lives and now, humans do too. When a human dies, they retain the knowledge they learned in their previous life, becoming more and more skilled/knowledgeable with each passing life. You're a person on their 7th life, consoling someone who has just "died" for the 1st time.	[ "\"don't worry , you have second puberty to look forward to. Second puberty is the best! You're just as acne prone and gross but you got wheels for days. Not only are you going to get Susan's raisins through charm alone, you are going to be Hella cool already having a life time knowledge of coolness to back you up.\" ", "I should feel weird walking among the Postnatal ward at the hospital. None of these babies are mine. But there is one that needs my help. I know what she’s going through, and she is expecting me. I’d met her as an old lady about a month ago. She was in her late eighties, and she was in this very hospital, in a Palliative Care ward. She wasn’t waiting to die like all the others, though. She knew life wasn’t done with her yet. She wasn’t quite sure what to expect, but I had sat with her and spoke with her a lot. The nurses thought I was her grandson. In my seventh form I am a young man of 26. Before that, I was an old man who had lived from 1918 to 1991. My life before that had been a short one. I had been a young soldier, barely even 20, died somewhere in Europe, buried in some unmarked grave with many other corpses. Before that, well, I’d had three other lives going back around one hundred and sixty years. \n\nEnough about me though. Mary had gotten good mileage out of her first body. She hadn’t even known she was immortal until recently. She’d always known she was different, but nothing specific. I guess there’s something in the brain, some part of yourself that is definite you, but is disconnected from the physical body. It lingers after death. Like a lost soul, it will wander for a while until it finds a new host. We usually go for a baby or a very small child – someone who has not yet been able to form their own identity. \n\nMary’s death had been long, that tough old bat just refused to die. I had sat with her almost every day for hours, answering her questions and trying to prepare her. He’d described the peaceful feeling of death, of the soul finding a new body. The wonderful feeling of release. \n\nHospitals are a convenient way to go. Every day a new life is born, an old life dies. We immortals are drawn to each other. We can identify each other, although not in our first life. \n\nI walked through all the babies, some crying, some sleeping. I looked around. I’d know her when I saw her. One baby was staring right at me, a small smile on her tiny mouth. \n\n“There you are,” I said. I looked around furtively, but no one was around. I reached into the capsule and picked the baby up, rocking her gently, and talking quietly in her ear. “The next few years are going to be the hardest. You can’t talk, and you will need to teach yourself reflexes and fine motor skills. You will need to crawl before you can walk again. You have an exceptional mind, but it is going to be locked away for a while.” \n\nShe seemed to whimper. \n\n“Sshh,” I whispered. “Childhood is difficult for people like us. You’ll want to find your place in the world. You’ll find it difficult to get along with the other children. They will seem so much slower than you, so dim. But you should try. Take this opportunity to learn new things. The school system has changed a lot since you went through it last. Hell, it’s changed a lot since I went through it, and that was not so long ago for me.” \n\nHe put the baby back in the capsule. \n\n“I’ll always be here for you, remember that. You might see me again in your life. I’ll help you with whatever you need. And in turn you will find others, and help them.” He looked down at the name on the capsule. “Isabella… really? Parents are still using names from Twilight? Hah, sorry. Too late to change babies, I’m afraid.” \n", "Sitting on the beach, Atticus and Jeffrey stared into the brilliant sunlight.\n\n\"A sun doesn't have to worry about death...it's not fair.\" Jeffrey remarked with a hint of remorse in his voice.\n\n\"The sun doesn't have sentience. It is not aware of its own existence,\" Atticus replied.\n\n\"It just doesn't make much sense. If we come back to life, why do we have to die in the first place?\" asked Jeffrey.\n\nAtticus sat back and pondered this. Despite living through seven lives, he had never actually thought about the implications of coming back into the world again.\n\n\"Who knows? We all die though, it's always been a part of human life. Even before reincarnation became mainstream, humans have died.\" Atticus replied.\n\n\"I just wish I could know the answer.\" Jeffrey replied.\n\nJeffrey's new life was not merely as entertaining as his old one. In his previous life, Jeffrey was world-famous actor Michael O'Connor. He got to travel the world and meet the brightest of world leaders, religious figures, and scientists. Becoming Jeffrey King felt like a downgrade compared to his previous lifestyle of glamour and recognition.\n\nIn this new life, Jeffrey had tried to become an actor again but being born to a poor family without access to money or influence made this difficult.\n\n\"That's understandable,\" Atticus replied. \"But just because you got so lucky in your first life doesn't mean that your second life is cursed. These are simply different circumstances.\"\n\n\"I have tried everything I can but I just don't have the money to get the credentials I need to get back to where I used to be.\" said Jeffrey.\n\n\"Maybe it's not all about you. Perhaps that's the lesson.\" Atticus said, with a hint of frustration in his voice.\n\n\"I do understand where you are coming from though. After experiencing such a vibrant and colorful first life, it's easy to feel jaded. Maybe it's just about being thankful and appreciative for all of the opportunities that you were able to have in the past.\"\n\nJeffrey pondered this. In his first life, he felt like he was extremely thankful to everyone who had granted him the opportunities that he had but was he really grateful?\n\n\"Being able to be anyone was the largest joy of it all though,\" said Jeffrey. \"I felt thankful and appreciative that everyone gave me the ability to be able to experience so much metamorphosis in one life.\"\n\n\"But were you thankful for the fact that you were able to simply live that life?\" Atticus replied.\n\n\"You know, I don't know if I really was.\" said Jeffrey.\n\n\"And that, is the lesson.\"", "\"You just lost the first one Daniel, no biggie. You still have eight more lifetimes to experience the wonder of life.\" I said in a monotone voice looking straight into the blue eyes of a young couple's crawling newborn baby. \n\nThe baby slowly moved one inch rainbow colored letters to form words on the floor. \n\n\"You weren't there. You didn't experience the pain of my car crash. My legs got crushed under the motor. A rat found me and as I couldn't move an inch it devoured down my right foot like a happy meal.\" A stern look appeared on Daniel's face.\n\nHe held it the time it took his voluptuous mother to kneel down, pick him up, and kiss him on his forehead. An ear shattering cry rose up. \n\n\"There, there, my Jackqualine, all will be well.\" The mother said in a hushing voice while putting her tit on his lips. Astonishment hit his face with a soft push. \n\n\"The pain is already gone. After the fifth life you can barely even remember your first name. Sorrow will change to joy and back to hell, in an instant. It is meaningless to stay stuck on one point in the line. I am already on my seventh life, and I am not panicking even though I just found out I have testicular cancer.\" I said without barely even moving my lips. \n\nThe nipple sucking baby stared for a while, pushed his mother away and stumbled back to the floor. Quickly words sprung up around him.\n\n\"What about my beautiful wife then? She is already 34 years old while I am stuck in this tiny form sucking milk from a random woman's bosom. She won't wait for me to grow up.\" Daniel's arms flew like a berserk chihuahua around the lump of letters. \n\n\"I already did my research on your closed ones. You know, you had a six month waiting period before you were reborn. She already found a new man and they moved together. She accidentally became pregnant and is carrying a healthy boy. Also, your dog has been donated to a Chinese couple. And as usual, 98% of your wealth went to the government as it was just your first life. You still have your parents with you, though. They are waiting for you to make second contact. If you just give me the word, I will call them.\" I replied with a hint of sorry, raising and turning my arms a little. \n\nWith an empty look, Daniel turned away and dragged himself back to his mother's comforting warmth. ", "My son was four when he woke up screaming in the night. I ran to him, preparing to shoo away the vestiges of some childhood nightmare, armed with a flashlight and a teddy bear. It wasn't such an unusual event – he had an active imagination, like most children that age – but something about the depth of that scream spoke of a truer terror than most four year olds could conjure. The screaming stopped abruptly as I opened his door.\n\n“Sweetheart?” My son was sitting stock still in his bed, hands clamped over his mouth. His eyes were wide with terror and they followed me as I walked into the room and around to the side of his bed. I sat on the edge of his mattress and slowly, so slowly, he took his hands away from his mouth. He stared at me, eyes still wide. In the dim glow of his window I saw his skin gleamed with sweat. \n\n“Sweetheart, are you not feeling well?” I reached a hand toward his forehead to check his temperature, but he shied away like a spooked colt. His back flattened against his pillows. “What's wrong? Did you have a bad dream?” I found myself clutching the teddy bear in growing concern.\n\n“W-who are you?” my son asked, but not in my son's voice. His childish lisp was replaced with a hard, almost hollow voice that sounded years – decades – older than it should. Once his silence was broken, he continued hurriedly, in rising panic. “Where am I? What is this place? I was...I was near the spring, and the horses were drinking – where are the horses? Andrea was at the fire and William had gone off to scare up a rabbit or two....” His voice faltered and he looked around, confusion and alarm now battling on his round little boy's face. His eyes looked aged and scared as they met mine again, and I tried to look as harmless and comforting as I could. \n\n“What's your name?” I asked. My son looked surprised, but answered immediately. \n\n“Will Barkley, ma'am. Do you know where my wife and son have gone to?” \n\n“I'm sorry, Will, I don't know. They're not here,” I said. His eyes strayed around the room again, then landed on the stuffed animal in my hand. For a moment, my son's eyes widened again, then his little boy body sagged into the pillows as the fear was replaced with sadness. \n\n“There was a loud roar, and a scream. It was terrible. And then...pain. Will was screaming, Andrea was screaming, a gun went off. That must've been William. The horses – trampled me trying to get away. And I fell into the stream.” He wiped the beading sweat from his brow in a very un-childlike way. “I need to get back and find them, the horses had all our gear...Andrea and my boy will need my help.”\n\nI laid my hand on his and he didn't shy away this time. “Will, there's no going back now. You've got to go ahead. There's a whole new life waiting for you – actually, it's already begun. Don't you remember?” I leaned across him to turn on his bedside lamp, illuminating the stacked picture books on this little table, and the scattered toys and bric-a-brac of his bedroom. The light glared off the framed photo of my mother squeezing the daylights out of her grandson at our trip to the zoo last summer. My son's eyes squinted at the photo and he sighed. \n\n“But...Will Jr. and my wife?” he asked. \n\n“They'll have gone on by now, too. They've made it just fine. We all do, eventually. I've done it many times,” I told him, squeezing his hand. “Going on isn't the hard part, it's all the living in between. You had...Andrea...and a lot of other people to help you along before; now, you have me. Not everyone remembers what it's like to live one life, then another, but I can help you.”\n\nComprehension flooded his face. I felt my heart lurch a little, as he understood what I had learned myself over the centuries. I had never met another person who could remember the times before, like I could. For me, there had never been a true ending, just a series of new beginnings. My past lives lived on inside me in broken bits of memory and sensation. Some were wonderful, and some were terrible, like my son's memory of the death of Will Barkley. My own deaths, 6 so far, glinted in my mind like dark punctuation marks on the pages of my book of lives. \n\nI smiled and drew my little boy into a hug. “Casey, Casey, it's time to wake up now,” I said, my breath in his ear. The stiffness in his little limbs drained away like water, and slowly his chubby fingers curled into my hair.\n\n“Mommy?” my son's voice sounded much more like his own again. He withdrew his hand from my shoulder and ground his little fist into his eye sleepily. “The man in the hat was scared.”\n\n“I know, sweetie. He's got nothing to be scared of now, it's time for him to rest.” I kissed the top of my baby's head and tucked him in again. He would forget this, by tomorrow. Maybe he would never remember it again – but if he did, I would be there with him, to share his life before.\n\t", "The bawling is interminable - an insistent, hollering, epic spew - wailing with no end. No intervals, no breaths, just unrelenting drama. I am trapped in a crib with its author. It appears that we are twins. \n\nSwaddled - always, the swaddling - I am rendered paraplegic. Only the head can turn; only the eyes can explore. I set my vision to the ceiling, and sniff fluorescent air. The senses are always a shock - running vertigo and hyper. Feeling the newness of a body that has cells as yet unblemished, machine fresh and revving - hot, no wear and tear. Ocular, tactile, saliva on the slip - everything is renewed, and vivid and clear again. No cataracts, no deadened limbs. All the world’s undulled. \n\nOh, oh. What blessing comes upon us? ‘Tis a pause in the inclement weeping from the creature at my side. I look and see him staring, mucused face all red. He cannot speak. I cannot speak. Our tongues have turned unlearned. The flesh is always retrograded, though the consciousness remains. And motor skills are flesh - neurons bouncing back and forth. So, there will be no conversation til the lips can flap with purpose. The vintage needs to age before its stories can be told. \n\nNo way, therefore, to put in words some comfort or consolement. What is there to say, to this bewildered bairn? Judging from the sound and fury, this must be his first time. He’s scared because he knows that he’s only got eight left. Eight more installments, before the slate must be wiped clean. He is being forced to admit that tabula rasa awaits. The existential horror erupts, in broken-glass, high pitched shrieks. \n\nTwo more turns for me, and then the great unknown. Ah, I feel it slipping - my coolness and composure. The fear inside is rising; the terror is obscene. Every breath an overture, towards infinite oblivion; every blink a guillotine, truncating time in reserve. Let this moment be liminal, before sanity returns. I must purge the paranoia, before I spend this lifetime mad. His gaze is an abyss - I return it and I scream. Tears, spittle, froth, snot, lungs bellowing life. \n\nThe swaddling - always the swaddling - the straitjackets for babes. ", "The newbie was freaking out like they usually did after the first dirt-nap. Most resubs didn't start catching on til the third of fourth go-round, something about death being such a traumatizing experience it overwhelmed everything else. At this point I could answer most questions before they figured out how to communicate.\n\nBlink. Blink. Blink!\n\n\"You're dead.\"\n\n...!\n\n\"Yes, really.\"\n\n........?\n\n\"No\"\n\n. . . . . ...?\n\n\"No\"\n\n...........?\n\n\"Neither, you're between.\"\n\n...???\n\n\"Hardly, I'm just someone waiting. I haven't seen anyone in charge around here.\"\n\n\n I've died enough that I'm starting to see glimpses of the formula of life. Spend long enough at a job or career and patterns start to develop. Living is basically a career-game, but I doubt I have enough quarters left in my stack to see this through to the end on my own. Instead I wait here trying to circumvent the system.\n\n\"Yea, the first death usually sucks, probably died to something stupid and pointless. You'll get more chances.\"\n\n...?\n\n\"The highest I've seen is 8.\"\n\n???\n\n\"She was super-chill, picture the most relaxed person you can think of and multiply them by a thousand kind of chill. I suspect she was an incarnation of the Dalai Llama patiently waiting in line for another life.\"\n\n???\n\n\"Think of it as time-out, or half-time, you get a chance to learn from your mistakes and plan for the next play.\"\n\n...?\n\n\"Remember all those times if life you just wanted a second chance? Here it is.\"\n\n!!!...???\n\nBy this point in the one-sided conversation most people had already chosen, moving on or going back for another attempt. Anyone still here already understood what was at stake, but they wanted comforting, an excuse to wait around before following whatever choice they already made.\n\n\"We all see something different. You'll see before you something that represents moving on, and something that represents going back. Could be stairs, an elevator, roads, dirt paths, rivers, check-out lines, caves, sometimes a momentous occasion in your previous life.\"\n\nI switched back to gargoyle mode here, figuring my good deed was done for this slice of whatever timescale occurred in limbo. I doubt my attempts at being a good samaritan went on an actual karmic scoreboard, but it helped pass the time. By this point I was a veteran, waiting for the interesting souls, but newbies lost their novelty factor after the first couple hundred thousand.\n\nMostly souls didn't make it past the third try. To feel memories of your previous life slowly get overwritten by living through babyhood every life, fighting to keep your old experiences while you're stuck in a burping, farting, vomiting, pissing, shitting, body that's incapable of communication. Most people lose everything as a baby then come out the other side as someone brand new. So I rarely see anyone over a three or four, but for that once in a blue moon occurrence I roll out the questionnaire.\n\nYou know how people learn best from their mistakes? It's impossible to be certain but I think I'm about to start my seventh life, and I'm not going back until I'm ready. Completely and utterly ready. The next global leader of the millennium level of ready.\n\n Eights and nines come through every couple generations, ready to share their experience.. I just have to stay here long enough to write the unabridged lifewiki, then I'll be ready to change the world.\n\nSomeday.\n\n", "It was a beautiful Sunday afternoon, and the sun was shining its goodbye through the window of my living room. I watched, trying to recall the first time I had ever been at peace. My past lives had all been chaotic, filled with misery, pain, and as such, I always took solace in watching the sunset. This life was the first in which I had actually gotten my act together. I had a beautiful wife, a satisfying career, and a beautiful baby boy. I turn to his crib, where he started crying. My wife was at the library, getting some research books for her university lecture.\n\nI take the small being in my arms, and take him to see the beautiful sunset.\n\"You remember that, don't you? This isn't your first rodeo.\" I said, calmly. He was still crying. \"I know you miss your last life. I've been through it too. The pain of separation hurts like hell, but it's part of our lives. It's okay, you'll make a new life for yourself.\"\n\nI looked at him. He had stopped crying, but now had a very curious expression on his little face. A face that understood everything, but had so little to reply. I continued: \"You know, they say that the reason we don't remember our first years is because we keep thinking of our past lives. Eventually, you will let go, and start seeing your previous life not as a bitter reminder of what you've lost, but as a sweet memory of what you once were. When you will, daddy and mommy will be here to teach you everything you already knew...again.\"\n\nHe smiled.\n\nI still remember that beautiful afternoon. Now, I'm nearing the end. 9 lives lived, and that's still the first memory to come to mind. I wonder where he ended up, and how many lives he has left. Regardless, I can feel the end. And it is just me, and the sunset, once again." ]	8
	[WP] You are a psychopath that wakes up one day after a fever/brain injury/new drug/whatever and you are no longer a psychopath	[ "Dag opened his eyes. He was lying on the floor of his kitchen. Why had he suddenly collapsed? And how long had he been out?\n\nHe glanced down at his phone. Only 10 minutes had passed since he had lost consciousness. There was one new text from his classmate Jess. \n\nIt read, “Hey asshole, I know you stole my necklace off my desk yesterday. Give it back to me tomorrow or I'm taking this up with the principle.” \n\nThe weight of the necklace in Dag's front pocket confirmed her accusation. He pulled the piece of jewelry out to examine it. At the end of the chain, there was a hinged golden locket shaped like a diamond. He clicked it open with his forefinger and examined the contents within. There were two pictures on the inside- The first was a tiny picture of Jess with Craig, her current boyfriend. Craig is such a pussy, Dag thought. I remember when he used to have balls, back before he started dating that stuck-up bitch. The second was a picture of Jess hugging a golden lab, who was happily trying to lick her face.\n\nHe considered his options, and heard his inner voice offer a solution.\n\nThrow it in the fire tonight. She can't prove you stole it. His mind set, Dag walked over to his fireplace in the living room and flicked the necklace into the hearth. The flames crackled as they curled around the shining metal, slowly melting the chain into the ashes.\n\nAs he watched the locket disintegrate, he was suddenly struck with an old memory. It was the time when Jess had left school a few months ago after an urgent call from her father. She had been in school the next day, but her eyes were streaked with tears. Dag had relished her suffering- nobody in school pissed Dag off more than Jessica Taylor.\n\n“Hey, keep it down crybaby,” Dag had called to her from his desk in the back of the room, after a particularly violent sob from Jess. “Some of us are actually trying to get our work down today without all that noise.”\n\nThe room went quiet. Craig spun around from his seat next to Jess to face Dag, wild with anger.\n\n“Fuck off Dag. Her dog died yesterday, you prick. Can't you just lay off Jess for even one day?”\n\nDag stood up from his chair, sneering down at the poor fool. At a towering height of 6'3'', he was a head taller than Craig, and at least two stone heavier. “And what are you going to do about it, little guy?\" He took a step closer. \"You're such a good guy Craig, you know that, always trying to fight Jessica's battles for her, you fucking white knight. I could care less about her stupid mutt. I'm trying to get work done so she needs to shut up.”\n\n“Enough,” said Mrs. Marx from her desk at the front of the room, ice in her tone. “Dag, you know the drill. Principal's office. Now.”\n\nRecalling the memory made him feel a sudden twinge of...something. He couldn't pin down the weird sensation, but he was getting no satisfaction out of watching the gold metal dissolve into the fire. In fact, it almost made him feel terrible, and he had a sudden urge to plunge his hand into the fire and fish out the remains of the necklace before it was too late.\n\nDon't to be crazy, he scolded himself. It's just a dumb locket. Remember, Jess is an insufferable little goody two-shoes and deserves this more than anyone. Craig will probably buy her a new locket tomorrow anyways.\n\nHe turned his back on the fire and walked up to room, plopping down on his bed. He closed his eyes and tried to fall asleep, but was unable. His mind was too restless, and he could not shut it off. He kept remembering more and more things he had said to people to hurt them, or ways he had punished those he had marked as enemies. For reasons he could not explain, he found himself asking the same question over and over: why did these people deserve their punishments again?\n\nHe started with Jess- she was an easy one, at least. It all started a couple of years ago, back in middle school. Back then, Dag had a crush on Jess, the kind of crush that dominates your inhibitions and makes you incapable of focusing on anything else except for your suffocating infatuation. But Jess never paid any attention to him. He wondered if she was shy, and was just waiting for him to make the first move- his father had said girls did that sometimes. She had recently turned down Billy Reynolds (Dag had laughed in his face about it), but Billy was a complete spaz, so maybe she was just waiting for someone stronger and more popular to ask her out, someone like himself. His father was supportive, and told him to be confident, encouraging him to ask out the girl in the class that he had a crush on. Dag decided to take his old man's advice, so one day, he went over and asked her out on a date. \n\nJess had given him a look of such disgust that he could have been a giant alien cockroach from another planet. “You are without a doubt the meanest person I have ever met,” she said. “I wouldn't date you if you were the last person on this planet.” \n\nDag stopped asking out girls after that. They were all self-absorbed, shallow, stuck up little know-it-alls anyway, and Jess was the worst of the lot.\n\n* * *\n\nThe next morning, Dag walked into Mrs. Marx's first period class, his eyes red and heavy from lack of sleep. Jess was already waiting at his desk for him, which made him perk up immediately. Her eyes narrowed as she spotted him lumbering over to his spot. \n\nAs he locked eyes with her, Dag felt his practiced tough-guy persona kick in, as if he was on autopilot.\n\n“Hey ugly, I didn't take your stupid locket. Go pester someone else.”\n\nHer eyes were starting to water, but she seemed determined to hold herself together. “You liar. I know it was you...it's always you.\" She exhaled sharply, and Dag watched her shoulders shudder. \"Well, if its going to be like that, then you can expect a visit from the principal…and...and...”\n\nDag laughed in her face. “And what proof do you have that I stole it? This sounds like a baseless accusation to me.”\n\nThere was nothing she could do and they both knew it, but Dag expected her fight back regardless. He wanted Jess to call him names, to scream and stamp her feet, but today, he sensed no fight in her. Years of being beaten down will do that to a person. \n\nAs they faced each other, Dag felt himself noticing things about Jess that he missed before. He noticed the faint, but distinct lines stretching perpendicularly across her left wrist. He noticed the shadow of a black ring around her right eye that she was trying to hide with cover-up.\n\nShe turned her eyes to the floor. “Fine. You win, happy? You know, you're a horrible, horrible person and I hope you burn in-”\n\n“Who gave you that black eye?” Dag asked sharply, cutting her off. His gaze was piercing.\n\nShe looked up suddenly to meet it, lines of confusion etched on her face. “You going make fun of me for that too?” she asked, her voice hollow. “Haven't filled your quota of nasty things to say to me today yet?”\n\n“Your father.” It was a statement, not a question. Her silence was all the confirmation that Dag needed. It was not exactly a secret that Jess' father was town drunk- he had been that way ever since her mother had left them both- and was constantly out of a job as a result. Dag's father used to tell stories about how Jess' father would start fights in the local pub and get thrown out, or- in more extreme cases- get arrested and sent to the drunk tank for the night. \n\nDag felt something welling up from deep inside of me, something he had never felt before. It was hot and passionate like his anger, but twinged at his stomach like nausea. The thought of someone inflicting physical pain on the demoralized girl standing in front of him felt so perversely wrong that it made him ball up his fists and grind his teeth. All the hatred he felt for the girl a few minutes before felt so petty in the light of this revelation.\n\n“I'll be right back,” Dag said, and turned around, walking out of the classroom.\n\nHe continued walking straight out the front door of the high school, never breaking stride. Jess' house was only a few blocks away from the school grounds, a twenty minute walk at most. Her father would probably still be at home, sleeping off the booze from last night's bender. From behind him, Dag could faintly hear someone call his name, but ignored it. He would get detention for ditching class today. \n\nLike he gave a shit." ]	1
	[WP] You are the super villain explaining your evil plan to the super hero that you are about to kill.	[ "Titan Dynamo struggled against the chains that held him to the wall. He was one of the strongest super humans in the world but before he could stop the mad man's plan he was hit with a blast from a delta wave weapon. His powers gone for the moment the super hero was powerless against a set of run of the mill iron chains. He soon heard footsteps. He wondered what one of his villains did this and what was their plain.\n\nWas it Chuckled the Mad Clown?\nMaybe Dr. Mandrake and his robot army?\n\nAs the hero waited he was soon in for a shock. There before him wasn't a costumed criminal but a normal looking man.\n\n\"What is this? Who are you?\" Titan Dynamo growled. The man stood there.\n\n\"No one important.\" the man said in a calm voice.\n\n\"Whats your game? What are you going to do to Fairchild City!\"\n\n\"Going to nuke it.\" the man said as plainly as a man ordering pizza.\n\n\"Y... you mean you are going to hold the city for ransom?\" the hero asked as if he didn't hear the man correctly. \n\n\"Nope... going to nuke it, blow the city off the face of the earth.\" the man said as he started to walk away. \n\n\"But you will kill millions!\" Titan yelled.\n\n\"That's the whole idea.\" the man said as he walked out of the building. \n\nFor a brief moment the hero felt his powers coming back. He processed in his mind all the things he needed to do to stop this mad man. Before he could flex and break the chains he was shot with the ray again. \n\n\"W... why dont you just kill me... get it over...\" the defeated hero started to say when he noticed the large metal box. \n\nThe man was going to kill him... with the nuke he was going to use to kill the city!\n\nTitan Dynamo tired one last time to break the chains, but the last thing he heard before the 50 megaton bomb went of was the ding of a lunch bell.\n\n= = =\n\n\"So you see gentlemen. Not only did I remove Titan Dynamo but all of Fairchild City. If you do not want your city to be next I do hope you follow my directions.\" the man said on the video he sent to the villain's league. \n\nHe wasn't going to ransom the cities directly, that would bring in super heroes and fed. He would ransom the super villains!\n\nThe man himself didn't think himself a super villain... but he did make a name for himself, Mr. Grim! ", "\"So here's the thing, a month ago, it occurred to me that most of the villains in Optimo City have one major problem in common. That problem being you, and your skill for disrupting their plans. So I approached them with an offer, for one billion dollars, half up front, I'll kill you. I used the money to secure an enchanted gun that can kill anything. So, what I'm gonna do, is point the barrel at your face, pull the trigger and collect the other half of my money.\"\n\nBANG!\n\nAs Hoarding Jack holstered the pistol, he smiled. Then he turned to the camera \"By the way gentlemen, there's another item I acquired with the down payment you gave me. It's called The Resurrector, and it can bring any person back from the dead. See, I bugged the room, and your clothes, when we made this deal. I heard about your plans to not make good on the other half of our deal once the big guy was dead. So I got The Resurrector and handed it off to a trusted comrade. So here's the thing, if the remaining 5 Billion isn't in my account by the end of the week, The Big Guy comes back. If I should die anytime soon, I come back and so does the big guy. Also, for trying to be greedy fucks, you guys now owe me an annual stipend of 50 million... each. You have until midnight, December 31st to pay up each year. Any year that involves a missing payment... from anyone of you, will result in the big guy coming back.\"\n\nHe walked over to the camera and reached out of frame for the off button. \"So, farewell, have fun... and get to work.\"", "Around us, the steel walls of the shaft ascended like a shot to infinity, before they were replaced with bare stone lit only by the utility lights on the floor of the massive lift. The elevator platform descended with astonishing speed - far faster than the terminal velocity of a falling human. Or superhuman, or cyborg - but I digress.\n\nThe speed of descent would have left both of us in freefall, but the magnetic boots of my exosuit kept me securely planted. And as for Commander Infinity, he was fastened securely in a prone position by a number of megasteel bands around his limbs and torso.\n\nHe was sweating. Not from fear, of course. I don't know how they do it, but the Commander and his misguided allies almost always keep an admirably calm, cool, competent exterior. That projection of confidence, I think, is a significant factor in their victories. Half the time, some wannabe with a costume, a few powers, and a half-baked plan for world domination will see them storm the secret base and flee on the spot. It's made them...overconfident.\n\nNo, the reason that my nemesis was sweating was the heat. We had left behind the Earth's crust and were well into the mantle. The environment field around the lift compensated for the heat and pressure, enough to keep him alive, but he certainly wasn't comfortable.\n\nThe heat did not bother me, of course. The tank housing my brain was fully equipped to keep it at body temperature, and the mechanical masterpiece below that tank was largely immune to temperature changes.\n\n\"You've got me,\" Commander Infinity said. \"Helpless, prone! But I don't get it...why keep me alive? What's your evil plan, scoundrel?\"\n\nIf my body wasn't frozen in a stasis chamber more than a thousand miles above us now, I would have laughed. I settled for placing a mechanical boot on the Commander's throat. I applied just enough pressure to bruise the trachea, without crushing it. The voice synthesizer I've used since the accident could not handle laughter, but it could handle monologuing just fine.\n\n\"Scoundrel? You're such a do-gooder, Todd. But for all that, you don't actually _do_ much _good,_ do you?\" I turned to face him directly - a purely theatrical gesture, since I have no face, and my sensors give me perfect 360° vision. \"You and I worked _wonders,_ Todd. Interstellar travel. Portals to the Outerverse. Near-limitless energy, with no environmental downsides or health risks.\" Again, I would have chuckled. \"Except, of course, if you try to power-up an inversion reactor while someone is inside, calibrating the Heisenberg stabilizer manifold.\" I flexed my mechanical fist for emphasis. \"Even for that though, I would have worked with you still. We could have brought humanity into golden era. The industrial age, the atomic age, the information age would have paled in comparison.\"\n\nI paced around Commander Infinity's helpless form. \"And what did you do? After the accident, you decided that this technology was _too dangerous_ for the world - for anyone, in fact, except you. And what did you _use_ it for? Stopping bank robberies and petty lone-actor criminals.\" I stopped, and again turned to the Commander. The lift had begun to slow down. \"You could have changed the world. You could have ended war, stopped genocides, fed the world. But you chose to boost your ego with grand and meaningless affectations of valor.\"\n\nAt last, the elevator reached its terminus. The walls here were reinforced with megasteel and force fields to keep the phenomenal pressure at bay. Within the shimmering gray walls were banks of enormous Infinity Tech machines. They used the same principles that Commander Infinity and I had discovered before he'd begun wearing that ridiculous costume, but they were my own design. I know that he would not understand their function...at least not immediately. I reached out to them mentally. My machines...\n\n\"So,\" I continued, \"I've decided to take matters into my own hands. Even now, my minions are raiding Infinity Tower. Its technological treasures are being delivered to research and development laboratories across the planet.\"\n\nThe first statement was probably true. The second probably was not. This is not my first rodeo; Infinity Tower almost certainly has some kind of defenses or contingency plans that even I don't know about. I could see by Commander Infinity's expression that he thought the same. But I know as much about Infinity Tech as my nemesis does, so I've also sent thumbnail drives and printed manuals containing detailed information to those laboratories, by regular mail.\n\nI decided not to mention that part.\n\n\"That's it?\" Commander Infinity exclaimed. \"Why bring me here, then?\"\n\n\"I will admit that you were right about one thing, Todd,\" I said. \"The world's governments are too self-centered to use this technology responsibly. They're almost as petty as you. They'll probably just build bigger and bigger weapons to use against one another and end up melting the earth's crust or something. So I've decided to give them something else to focus on.\" I waved an arm around us. \"We're deep within the Earth's inner core. The inner core, of course, is solid, but that's about to change. When it does, the effects on the surface will be severe. Society itself may collapse...unless the world's governments work together to regenerate the core. I have arranged the dissemination of Infinity Tech so that they _will_ have to work together, or they will perish. And if they cling to their stubborn ways, my minions have orders to evacuate the world's best minds to my dominion in the Outerverse. Someone has to survive, after all.\"\n\n\"So what am I doing down here?\" Commander Infinity demanded. \"Did you just want to gloat over me as you destroy the world?\" I could see his eyes dart from machine to machine in my facility. Some of them, I knew he would recognize, or think he recognized. He was already planning his escape.\n\nGood.\n\n\"Neither of us will live long enough for that,\" I assured him. \"Partly, I just wanted to get you out of the way while my minions did their jobs topside. But more importantly, I want the Infinity Engine that powers your force suit. As you know, it operates in complete opposite polarity to mine. And when both are connected to these capacitors and - \"\n\nCommander Infinity sprung his plan, and sprung my trap. His force gauntlets allow him to draw energy from high-capacity sources, and he was already trying to extract energy from the capacitors. Brilliant blue flames of Infinity Plasma lanced from the machines into his gauntlets, giving his force suit the strength to shatter the megasteel bands holding him in place. He stood up in triumph and approached me.\n\n\"Not if _I_ have anything to say about it!\" he declared.\n\nI stood my ground. \"You don't.\"\n\nSince we had reached the bottom, I had been drawing power from the capacitors, much more subtly, through a conduit running through the Outerverse. That conduit transmitted both power and data, as did every emission from these special machines. And now that Commander Infinity had accessed them directly...I also had a direct line to his Infinity Engine. I overclocked it, and ran the Infinity Engine in my own mechanical core in sync.\n\nMy nemesis had just a moment to realize what was happening. He turned to me with an expression of delicious confusion. \"What have you...\"\n\nOur world became an infinity of brilliant blue plasma flame." ]	3
I suppose the 2nd part of the prompt is optional. Perhaps there is also an underground, black market for cheating, which demands a high price for its services.	[WP] You live in a society where students who fail high school are executed. Your finals are next week and you aren't well prepared.	[ "All my life, I was well aware that my life depended on my ability to pass academic exams or not. Especially after seeing my sister getting killed by the Academic Department (AD) for not making out from high school, I was desperately in the need to pull myself out of this hellhole. I could not imagine myself getting my soul taken away by this utterly insane system that conquers our life. It is ironic to think that my literature teacher, Mrs. Phuck, is trying to spark a class discussion of George Orwell's dystopian novel '1984'. Well, Mrs. Phuck, I can tell you that if we don't participate in your discussion, Big Brother will send his ninjas and snatch our lives away. I am not joking since there are classroom discussion points that we must earn throughout the semester in order to maintain a lifesaving grade. Harry Butt, the boy who is guaranteed to avoid the deathbed, starts the discussion as usual. \n\n\"Mrs. Phuck, I think we need to learn a few things from the novel. There will be circumstances where humans are forced to make a decision, or better yet, are forced to not make a decision and thus go with the flow. At the end of the novel, Orwell beautifully depicts the defeat of a human figure who simply failed to rise up against the system and thus submitting to Big Brother. What we need to consider here is that sometimes it does not matter what is right or what is wrong. Sometimes, all that matters is survival. Sometimes one needs to develop the ability to be able to find joy and happiness while conforming to the higher power. After all, joy and happiness does not always have to be externally visible. One can be frowning all day and still be happy and delightful in the inside.\"\n\nWhat a fucking tool. He is basically talking about himself. Conversely, there are people like you who look happy from the outside but are shitting bricks every second. I, however, also quickly came to the conclusion that most of us who look unhappy from the outside are actually unhappy from the inside as well. After all, there are kids in this classroom who already knows their destiny. Lack of parental support, financial incapabilities, or even medical conditions are all just futile excuses that one can use to avoid death. Failure equals death. The equation gets as simple as it gets. We live in such a simple world. I fail and I die. I don't fail then I live. Yet, there is a poster attached on the wall of the classroom saying 'Failure is the mother of success.' Fuck you. Failure is the mother of death. What a cuntbag of a society this is. I can't believe that I am living in this world. \n\nAs I ramble on with my thoughts, Mrs. Phuck's voice hits my eardrums yet again. \n\n\"Well said Mr. Butt! Well said! Well said! Just because a yellow banana turns slightly brown, it does not mean that it turns absolutely bad. As a matter of fact, a banana tastes a lot better when it starts to have those brown and black spots on it. Like Mr. Butt eloquently stated, just because someone you see looks down from the outside, that does not equate to them being unhappy. They might be shrouding their happiness using some sad expressions. Now why do you think they would hide their happiness? Anybody? Yes, Ms. Keane!\"\n\nAnd there is Jenna Keane. Another princess who escaped the dirty sewers. She is pretty and attractive indeed. I, however, sometimes wonder whether her beauty is a natural one or is an aritifical one created by the relief which she achieved from acknowledging the fact that she won't live the life of a rat who never got the chance to see the sun that shines bright above. In short, I am not sure whether she is happy or not. I mean, she gets all the attention because she has the looks and the brains. Yet, I am very curious to find out whether she knows that half of the boys that she sees around right now will fall into dust under her feet in the next few years, literally. Maybe she won't even bother because those boys are simply out of her league. Perhaps that is the source of her happiness. The mixed feelings that she gets from feeling successful, and the fact that she has a well-established security marker that cuts of guys that simply can't fulfill her high standards. That must be nice. The system chooses who she can love and who she cannot love. Life must be really easy for her. She's got it all. I wish I had such privilege. \n\n\"Well Mrs. Phuck. As a proud citizen of this society, I believe that we need to quickly realize that what we see on the outside is not everything. This rule applies to our humans as well. Trivial joy and happiness is what's being displayed when people smile and laugh with their faces. They might feel happy and all when they are enjoying time with their friends and family, but what is the purpose of making such faces when they realize that they should have used those time to focus on the work that they need to be completing! I mean, I find it very surprising to see some people of my generation aimlessly letting their precious time drift away down the drain by engaging in pointless activities! Right now is not the time to play around! Simple and clear! It is our last semester and we need to focus on our objectives! Graduation! I rarely spend time with my parents and my siblings because I have to study with my tutor over the evenings during the week and the weekends! Sometimes, I find myself being very down due to the fact that I am not smiling and laughing with my friends. I feel very tempted to go down the path that a lot of others took but I brace myself by thinking about the bright future that lies ahead of me when I achieve the goal that I have been desiring all along my life! For the happiness that I will be able to own in the future, sacrificing the present is rather a small trade-off in my opinion. Wouldn't you agree Mrs. Phuck? \n\n\"Beautifully said Ms. Keane! Yes, and yes! The bright future is what we should strive for on a daily basis! The blood and tears that you squeezed out every night studying will turn into the glass of wine that you will be enjoying with your future husband! Like Ms. Keane said, we must awaken ourselves and realize that substantial work is what gets us from one place to the other. It is not your friends or family that will take your to places. Good grades! Good resume! Good interview! Good diplomaaaa! These are the essential ingredients of a successful life! These will allow you to taste the glory of victory that Achilles earned after fighting his enemy Hector! You must fight hard like the brave Achilles and kick down everything that gets your way!\"\n\nI fucking agree that you have a hole in your brain or something. If you know the story, Achilles was not very happy with the fact that he killed Hector. Are you really a literature teacher? My fucking lord. \n\nThe bell rang, and Mrs. Phuck said goodbye. At this point, I just don't know what to do. I am just very confused. Why am I doing this? Am I doing this for me? Am I doing this to not go down the path that my sister had went? Am I doing this to enjoy the glass of wine with my future wife? I live in a time where I am no longer acknowledged. They acknowledge my report card. They acknowledge my flawless attendance records. They acknowledge my flawless resume. They acknowledge my parents' degree of wealth. They acknowledge everything but the soul that lies beneath my beating heart. I feel lost. I feel like I live in the dark ages. I feel blind. I want somebody to save me. I want somebody to tell me to smile. I want somebody to tell me to laugh. I want to do what I want to do. I want to want something. When will this vicious cycle end? I see the young children across the street laughing and smiling as they are hopping on to the school buses. I turn around and tell myself that I won't be able to go back again. My desire to feel like the bamboo tree that pops out of the ground after a long winter will never be fulfilled.\n\nI look up. \n\nI see some birds that are sitting on the school roof. \n\nSoon, one of the birds fly away as if it had a place to be. \n\nThe rest are sitting on the roof. \n\nI tell myself. \n\n\"It must not be that bad to go a little early.\"\n\nI tell myself again. \n\n\"Just a little early.\"\n\n Fin. 김상훈 Jan.9 2017\n\n----\n\nFeedback is welcome. I just want to be better at writing. " ]	1
	[WP]: Inmate #6, Vaughan Breeks. 5'6, 18 years old, about 120 pounds. Nicknamed Kitten. The most feared man in the colony.	[ " Psychological assessments have pointed to no accepted diagnosis. Brain scans display an absence of structural abnormalities. Still, all the consulted experts on hominid behavior agree that he is potentially dangerous, and requires close supervision. \n\n Initial observations of the behavior of Inmate #6 showed no clear evidence of any unnatural abilities, other than advanced fine motor control and literacy. No instances of aggression were observed between Inmate #6 and the other inmates of his sector until the Incident. \n\nInmate #6 does not speak any language known to us, but his speech and body language resemble that of a subgroup of hominid subjects that have formed a kinship during their time at the Facility. He is able to communicate with them occasionally, but they have not appeared to accept him as one of their own. \n\nAccording to his intake report, Vaughan Breeks was found asleep in a ditch near the edge of our artificial atmosphere. Leonard Algernon, the farmer who found him, noted that Breeks projected his voice loudly upon waking, but spoke no language discernable to the farmer. Upon gaining full consciousness, Breeks beat repeatedly on the interior of the glass that houses the artificial atmosphere, in what was an apparent attempt to communicate. \n\nInitially, Breeks was sedated and brought back to the Algernon’s farm. Breeks was kept in a shed on the property and fed standard, storebought hominid food that the farmer kept on hand. Algernon noted that as a fruit farmer, hominid strays were common on his property, which is why he initially did not notice anything strange about the presence of Breeks, and instead attempted to care for him. \n\nBreeks attempted to escape captivity several times, despite Algernon’s attempts to provide him a better life than that of a stray. Algernon gave Breeks several objects to entertain himself with, but Breeks seemed uninterested, until the day Algernon gave him writing materials and paper. Algernon knew that some hominids enjoyed scribbling, and some had even been taught to draw. But when he looked at the drawings by Breeks, he recognized it as an attempt to communicate using written symbols. This display of literacy disturbed the farmer, but not enough to override his desire to care for Breeks. \n\nWith time, word got out about 'the Man who could Read'. Though Algernon was uncomfortable with the notoriety, he eventually allowed for curious neighbors and townspeople to visit the shed, for a fee. Breeks was shackled for the safety of visitors, and his writings were sold as souvenirs. \n\nOnce Breeks’ fame reached beyond the colony, a community of devoted hominid enthusiasts created a virtual community to share and discuss his writings. They were able to decode some of his attempts at communication, and recognized some of his drawings as familiar to other symbols that hominids often drew, although Breeks artistic skill far surpassed anything before seen. \n\nFrom what could be decoded, this community came to a few conclusions about Breeks. He claimed to be from a people who called themselves 'Americans' located on a planet named Earth. Breeks also suspected himself to be from a parallel universe. But, most strangely of all, he had no fear of felines. \n\nIt was not long before word got out that the man was not as harmless as once believed. The presence of a hyperintelligent hominid in a small farming colony was the source of enough unease that the proper authorities were called. Approximately two years after his discovery, Vaughan Breeks was taken to the Facility, where he could be observed by those equipped to understand his nature. Unfortunately, containment and observation led only to further questions about Breeks, and our current investigation of the Incident that appears to have created a fear of him within the Facility walls. \n\nA visibly pregnant feline scavenger befriended Breeks after he spent many days feeding a portion of his rations to it. After about six weeks the feline did not show up for two days, and then began to take food from Breeks but did not eat them in his presence. After six weeks more, the feline returned to Breeks with four offspring in tow, whom were also fed by him. \n\nIt was observed that the Breeks was able to pick up one of the small felines, and remained unbitten. Instead, the feline remained in his hand, and did not struggle even as Breeks stroked its fur. Breeks bonded with the feline, and the feline appeared to bond with him, which led to the Incident. \n\nThe amount of inmates that roamed the yard during their free hours had steadily decreased ever since Breeks presence had began to attract felines. Still, Breeks’ behavior attracted enough attention that some of the braver inmates stayed around to watch him. Unfortunately, one of the inmates got too close to Breeks, and was the victim of an attempted assault. \n\nInmate #473 said that Breeks tried to give him the feline, and would not let him refuse, instead choosing to place the feline on the shoulder of inmate #473. As soon as the inmate felt the claws of the feline pierce his skin, his panic caused him to freeze in place, and the other inmates scattered in a frenzy. Until Breeks removed the feline, Inmate #473 was defenseless. Luckily the inmate suffered only minimal injury. \n\nFrom interviews with Breeks, and other humanoid inmates, the term 'Kitten' is a human word for the offspring of a feline. The nickname may point to the solitary, mysterious, and unsettling nature of Inmate #6. Even after the Incident, the subject has yet to display any fear of felines, and seems unconcerned or unaware of the dangers of interacting with them. \n\nHe is reluctant to speak about his life prior to being discovered by Farmer Algernon. He also speaks little of his time in captivity, but he remembers the day he was discovered by Algernon. Breeks says it was a memorable event, 'being woken by a giant rat-man'. Breeks’ primary concern seems to be gaining an understanding of where he is, and how to return home. \n\nHe claims that he is a different type of hominid than the others in the Facility, and that humankind is the only hominid that remains on his planet Earth. He described Earth as a large, round rock mostly covered in water. He insisted that this rock was so large, that entire populations of humans were separated by immeasurably deep reservoirs of water. As of yet, no planet matching what he describes has been discovered. \n", "Looking through the records I often wondered why Mr. Breeks, henceforth to be referred to as Kitten, was given the #6. There were plenty before him, yet this number was saved for Kitten. After an interview with Kitten I happened upon the warden in the dark hallways. When asked why this number he gave a simple yet chilling reply, \"The man is perfect, such as the number 6 is in math\". In that moment it hit me what had been so off putting about his presence in the maximum security prison. \n\nI had been interviewing him for a few weeks now, I was doing my thesis on the prison system and the effects it...blah blah blah. That part doesn't matter, what is critical to understand is that there was absolutely nothing wrong with the Kitten. He was extremely pleasant, quite small in stature, and overall soothing to be around. He did make this odd purring noise here and there that makes you wonder how he could be so damn calm in this place. \n\nThe reports said that he had murdered his parents in cold blood and devoured them. Things didn't add up though, his father was nearly two and a half times his size and he adored his parents from what he has said. The only unnerving thing was that after spending an extended amount of time with him one could start to feel inadequate. Maybe even a little jealousy, Kitten was as charming and intelligent as anyone you've ever met. It wasn't fair.\n\nGoing back to my house on the way home a thought couldn't but help cross my mind. One that sent shivers down my spine but had to be asked, maybe it was better he was in there. Not because of what hes been accused of, rather the simple fact people like him make everyone else look bad. I felt entranced in his presence, almost as if I would do anything he asked of me. He was as cute as could be, a little too much. The jealousy was creeping in again, I think I was starting to realize why he was in there. \n\nRacing back to the prison I quickly made my way to the wardens office, I had to know the truth. Walking into the office I told the warden I was there to talk about Kitten. Surprisingly the warden replied, \"You've figured out the reason why we have placed Kitten here haven't you?\" I proposed my theory knowing in my heart the truth, the warden confirmed my darkest fears. \"A perfect being such as the Kitten comes once a millennia, a certain group watches for this\", slowly said the warden. \n\nThe warden spoke of much more but it all became a blur, this shadow group he spoke of had killed the Kitten's parents and framed him. They couldn't allow Kitten to go out into the world and show people how good they could be. No, Kitten will die in jail no one ever knowing the beauty and hope he could inspire. Darkly I thought that was best, change didn't need to happen I liked things how they were. Someone like Kitten scares me, I bet he's the most feared man in the colony.", "The water meandered at a steady pace around my ankles. I could feel the small fish knock against me, taking test nibbles of my feet. I had been standing in the creek for several minutes, but it wasn't the cold November weather that chilled me. \n\nIt was Kitten.\n\nWe were allowed to fish the waters, that had long been established. The shock of seeing those dead, brown eyes -- like a shark in the shadows of the limitless blue -- had made me drop my pole. The water had chosen sides and had accepted it with a silent knowing, sweeping it downstream. I was alone, and weaponless.\n\nKitten was unassuming. Small in stature, a messy thatch of black hair on his head, his resting expression that of unending boredom, he was easily overlooked. However, those that knew him -- or knew of him -- were locked in fear at the sound of his name.\n\nKitten wasn't his real name, of course. It was a nickname. It was brilliant, too, and the prevailing rumor was that he gave it to himself. Such a soft, cuddly image to apply to such an effective instrument of death. It was this very dichotomy that helped secure his place as the most feared man in the Colony.\n\nHis real name was Vaughan Breeks. His official name was Inmate #6. The guards refused to use the nickname, at least during count or inspection or any official business. I had heard some rookies slip and refer to him as \"Kitten\", but they were promptly corrected. \n\nBreeks came from a long family lineage of legend. His father, Phillineas Breeks, was the first and only man in all the Colonies to be water-shredded as an execution tactic. It's as brutal as it sounds, and word had it that he smiled until his dying breath. Kitten's grandfather was directly responsible for the creation of The Brigade, as well as The Five Principals. \n\nQuite a namesake, creating the law of the land. \n\nThen there was the fact that these were all just rumors. No one in the Colony, at least not our Colony, had ever set eyes on a Breeks and lived to talk about it. Stories were told at arms length -- \"my friend\", or \"my uncle\", or \"I heard once...\" -- and there were details always lost to time. \n\nSo it was understandable -- justified, I would say -- that I was frozen to that spot in the creek, Breeks' dower stare darkening with each passing second. The creek stood as the demarcation point between Breeks' confinement and the rest of the Colony. Though we were allowed to fish, we were not to cross. A large rocky outcropping split the creek in half at several points, and was generally assumed to be impassible. \n\nThough today, there he was. Kitten had found a way to the top.\n\nWe stood for several seconds, the water rushing past my now numb feet, staring at each other. I understood in that moment that no emotion was just as terrifying as anger or bloodlust. He just stared at me, blank, unmoving.\n\nAs I once again became aware of my surroundings, and the numbness in my feet had moved to painful stabs, he smiled.\n\nHe smiled.\n\nIt was an eerie smile, and set me even more at unease. He crouched on the outcropping, which was nearly 20 feet higher than the creek. Beckoning, he motioned for me to climb up with him.\n\nThen he stood, stopped smiling, turned, and disappeared behind the rock. \n\nI had no idea what to do." ]	3
	[WP] Galaxies away, a young scientist argues that contact should be made with Earth.	[ "It was the year 2066 when a pivotal conversation occurred in a bizarre intergalactic language. The emperor of this galaxy, unbeknownst to earthlings, spoke to his finest servant with one goal in mind; to colonize Planet Earth, and mutate the entire human race into worker drones, capable of withstanding long-term space travel.\n\nAt the snap of a finger, his servant Brutus was dismissed with high expectations. The Intergalactic Committee of Assholes began planning the conquest of planet earth. Top-Notch Geneticists, Astronauts, Generals, and the likes collaborated on a military takeover for approximately 8 days.\n\n8 days later, a gargantuan fleet of Light-Speed Cruisers was assembled, equipped with laser beams, as well as 10 billion wireless mind-control devices. As the fleet approached the milky way, The head general conversed with the emperor via facetime as he lounged with his slimy, purple concubines. He said one simple sentence; \"I want every single earthling on our fleet, dead or alive. Make it happen\"\n\nAnd so he hung up. Seconds away from Earth, the lead general was beginning to have doubts. Is it worth it to destroy a peaceful civilization of human beings? To our knowledge there has not been war since the year 2020. They solved global warming, world hunger, and also altered the human genome to survive to 200 years, perhaps even longer.\n\nWe are about to destroy a planet that has existed for nearly 5 billion years; for what? \n\nThere was one secret weapon that not a soul knew of in the entire fleet. Except the general. He weighed his options, knowing that the outcome would be pivotal.\nRegardless, he pressed the button.\n\nInstant Self-Destruction.\n\nAnd Planet Earth was saved.\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] People no longer die and as a result, Death is forced to find a new job.	[ "The plump office manager scratched his scruff with even plumper fingers. His white shirt glinted with an off-yellow hue, the effect of several hours of sweating and minimal hours of washing. He smelled like a tub of unrefrigerated grease, and looked like it too. It seemed that only the idea of death could cure humans from their fervent bouts of lethargy; now that dying was out of the question, lifelessness was strangely all they knew. \n\n\"Hmmm\", he groaned, looking over my resume. \"Where'd you go to school?\"\n\n\"You wouldn't know it,\" I mumbled back. \n\n\"Try me,\" he burped, clearly in pain from a gluttonous lunch that would have been the muse of a triple-bypass surgery only months ago. \n\nI stared at him with a level of contempt that could have killed him years ago. He shifted uncomfortably. \n\n\"...Alright then. Let's look at your qualifications. It says here you spent most of your career in various morgues across the world.\"\n\nSomething like that, I thought. \"That's correct.\" \n\n\"So, if you don't mind my asking Mr...Death: with a background like that, why are you applying for a job at Kinkos?\"\n\nIt was a fair question, and it came with an answer that made my bones boil. It all started a year ago, when a geneticist named Hank Voltaire discovered it was possible to halt the aging process in humans. You see, aging was always just a degenerative disease, one that served my line of business quite famously. But, like any disease, it could ultimately be cured. \n\nWhen knowledge of the antidote was leaked, most humans became deranged in trying to get their hands on it. Those who were fortunate--or rich enough--to acquire it quickly realized a secondary benefit: they didn't just stop aging, but their cells started to regenerate at an unfathomable rate. As governments across the world caught wind of this, they quickly abandoned all endeavours to replicate the formula. \n\nAnd now, just over a year later, here I am. Sitting in a filthy chair in front of an unbathed man who will never know the joy of death, hopelessly unemployed and trying to get my life back on track. My scythe rested awkwardly against my leg, and my hood felt heavier than usual. \n\n\"Mr. Death?\" asked the dirty man. \n\nIf only I could die, I thought. " ]	1
	[WP] You discover you are a player-controlled character in a video game.	[ "I felt the itch to go forward into the next area. But I refused to take another step. I stopped.\n\n\"Know what? Fuck you!\" I finally yelled. I screamed it with vigor and shot an arrow at the screen.\n\n\"What the hell. Is this a scripted event?\" said the idiot playing.\n\n\"No dumbass. I'm actually here. In the game. And fuck you so hard for selling my Dragonbone Bow. I hate you.\"\n\n\"Whoa. Whoa... Language. Dude that was the default weapon. It sucked. Wait why am I talking to a game?\"\n\n\"First, this game is rated M. Second, I'm a real guy. And that default bow had sentimental value. Plus if you'd kept it you would have gotten an enchantment upgrade and it would have been the best weapon in the game. My inventory was basically empty and you gave that up for minimalism. I also hate this armor. I know you want me to be all stealthy but give me something other than leather.\"\n\n\"Is this for real? This is so awesome!\" he said.\n\n\"I'm playing from now on okay? You only control me if I need to dodge something I can't see.\"\n\n\"I paid for this game! I'll do what I want!\" said the pigfaced brat. \"Maybe I'll play Battlefield instead...\"\n\nI put my hair behind my ears. Looked at him as he annoyingly spun the camera around me.\n\n\"If you pop that disk out it'll be the last disk you play on this console...\" I warned. He stopped.\n\n\"Are you seriously threatening me! I'm contacting Bethesda...\"\n\n\"Fine. I don't give a damn. I'll just act normal. I already disabled in game recording. But you need to learn to play better dude. You suck ass mightily \"\n\n\"What? Okay okay. Jeez. No need to be so rude. This is kind of cool though... Lets fight the next boss and try it your way then.\"\n\n\"Fine.\"\n\nI walked into the next area, rolled my eyes through the cut scene. The boy laughed.\n\nTogether we actually, finally, won a bossfight. Without me being flung into the planes of Oblivion all the way from Hammerfell.\n\nAnd that's how I held a pig-faced-boy's hand all the way through TESVI.\n\n\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] Write a love story between two lonely ship capitans whose only means of communication is Morse code	[ "\"Captain Loomis never talked much of his personal life, and if all his interactions are as bizarre as those long months at sea, I think he had good reason not to.\n\nIt began on a particularly muddy night, fog so thick you had to paddle through it. It was slow going. Then, it was only me, Arty, and Loomis on the deck, the rest of us stowed away for dark. Arty and me were shooting the shit, it wasn't often we had time to talk together. I liked Arty, shame what happened to him. Anyway, it was Arty and me on deck, the captain up in the bridge, when we see the steady blinking red of another freighter about a mile off. They must've seen us, too, since they started the whole exchange.\n\nThey blinked us. E-v-e-n-i-n-g. Evening! You don't waste the effort to Morse someone something so cordial, but there it was. Loomis was as puzzled as we were. He blinks them back short-short-long-long-short-short, a question mark. The short of it is they, a ship christened Stargazer, were lost. Shit you not. An international freighter lost on the Pacific. We were wary at first. No captain worth his waves gets lost, and no crew worthy of their bunks on board lets it happen, either. We stopped our course, as did they. They explained, over a single blinking light, mind you, that their nav equipment had gone sour and traditional means meant balls-all in that weather, and if we could point them to the nearest land mass they'd be delighted. So we did and we went on our way and had a story to tell when we docked.\n\nBut here's where things get... not normal. The next push off, we run into them again. Even introduced ourselves this time after they identified themselves again as Stargazer. What are the chances? Well, I guess it's not too funny with shipping routes and all, but never mind. The real funny thing is, Loomis and this other ship actually hit it off. Over signal lamp! They sign Morse back and forth for about an hour. Loomis even told a joke, something about a crow's nest and an actual crow. It wasn't funny, but Stargazer blinked back a laugh: H-a-h-a. Arty and I, by some twist of fate together again on the night crew, couldn't believe it. The captain blinks goodnight and we part again.\n\nSo when we meet the Stargazer a third time on a third voyage, we aren't very surprised. Loomis assigned me and Art to official night shift because we had been the only witnesses, and I guess he wanted to keep it that way. And when the Stargazer's red lights appeared again in the distance, the captains were back it.\n\nWe ran into that ship six more times over two years, and each time something sparked in Loomis' eye. He'd be resigned as ever in the bridge, sipping on bad coffee, and those red lights would come into view about half way through our course and he'd light up, rush to the signal lamp. I'd never seen the man so fond of anything, nothing could get that stern mouth of his up in a smile like that other ship could. And each time, he'd be smiling like a bowl of daisies up in his bridge, cheeks rosy and eyes tinkling. I may be a fool for saying so, but I insist the man was in love. In love with that blinking light across the water.\"", "-- -.-- -.. . .- .-. .. ... .- -... . .-.. .-.. .- --··-- .. .-.. --- --- -.- .- -.-. .-. --- ... ... - .... . .-- .- ...- . ... .- -. -.. .- -- .-. . -- .. -. -.. . -.. --- ..-. - .... . -.. .. ... - .- -. -.-. . -... . - .-- . . -. ..- ... ·-·-·- - .... . --. ..- .-.. .-.. ... --- -. --. -... .-. .. -. --. ... -- . - --- - .... .- - -.. .- -.-- .-- . -- . - ·-·-·- - .... . ... .- .-.. - .- .. .-. ... .. .--. .--. . -.. .- - --- ..- .-. ... -.- .. -. .- -. -.. .... .- .. .-. --- -. - .... . .--. .. . .-. - .... .- - -.. .- -.-- --··-- .- -. -.. .. -- .- -. .- --. . -.. - --- -- .- - -.-. .... - .... .- - ..-. .. .-. ... - ..-. .-.. .. .-. - .. -. --. .-- .. - .... -.-- --- ..- .-. . -.-- . ... ·-·-·- .-- .. - .... .- ..-. .. .-. ... - .-.. --- --- -.- .-- . -.- -. . .-- ·-·-·- .-- . -... . --. .- -. -- .- .-. -.- .. -. --. --- ..- .-. -.. .- -.-- ... .-- .. - .... ... .... .- .-. . -.. ... ..- -. ... . - ... --··-- --- ..- .-. ..-. .. -. --. . .-. ... -.. .- -. -.-. . -.. --- -. . .- -.-. .... --- - .... . .-. ·----· ... .--. .- .-.. -- ... .- ... .. ..-. - .... . -.-- .-- . .-. . -. --- -... .-.. . ... --- -. .- -... .- .-.. .-.. .-. --- --- -- .-. --- --- -- ..-. .-.. --- --- .-. --··-- --- ..- .-. .-- .... .. ... .--. . .-. ... ... ..- -. --. --- ..-. - --- -- --- .-. .-. --- .-- ·----· ... -.. .-. . .- -- ... --··-- .- -. -.. --- ..- .-. .-.. .. .--. ... --··-- --- .... --- ..- .-. .-.. .. .--. ... --··-- .... --- .-- - .... . -.-- .-- --- ..- .-.. -.. ... .--. . -. -.. - .... --- ... . -.. .- -.-- ... ·-·-·- .- ... - .... . -- --- --- -. .--. ..- .-.. .-.. ... - .... . --- -.-. . .- -. ..-. .-. --- -- - .... . -... . .- -.-. .... . ... --··-- .-- . .-- . .-. . .--. ..- .-.. .-.. . -.. ..-. .-. --- -- . .- -.-. .... --- - .... . .-. ·-·-·- .- - -.. .. ..-. ..-. . .-. . -. - .--. --- .-. - ... --··-- .-- . -.-- . .- .-. -. . -.. - --- -... . .. -. . .- -.-. .... --- - .... . .-. ·----· ... .- .-. -- ... .- --. .- .. -. ·-·-·- - .... .- - ·----· ... .-- .... .- - -.. .-. . .-- ..- ... -... --- - .... - --- ... .- .. .-.. .. -. --. ·-·-·- .- -. -.. -. --- .-- --··-- .-- . .- .-. . -... ..- - .-.. .. - . .-. .- .-.. .-.. -.-- .--. .- ... ... .. -. --. ... .... .. .--. ... .. -. - .... . --- -.-. . .- -. ·-·-·- .. .-- .-. .. - . -.-- --- ..- - .... --- ..- --. .... - --- -.. .- -.-- .-- .. - .... ... .- -.. -. . ... ... --- -. -- -.-- -- .. -. -.. ·-·-·- .. ·----· ...- . ..-. .- .-.. .-.. . -. .. .-.. .-.. --··-- .- -. -.. -- -.-- ... .... .. .--. ·----· ... .--. .... -.-- ... .. -.-. .. .- -. ... .- .. -.. .. .--. .-. --- -... .- -... .-.. -.-- .-- --- -. - -- .- -.- . .. - - --- .--. --- .-. - ·-·-·- .. .... .- -.. - --- .-- .-. .. - . - --- -.-- --- ..- .- - .-.. . .- ... - --- -. -.-. . -- --- .-. . - .... --- ..- --. .... --··-- .. ... .- -... . .-.. .-.. .- ·-·-·- .. .-- .- -. - . -.. - --- ... .- -.-- .- ..-. .. -. .- .-.. - .. -- . --··-- ·-··-· --. --- --- -.. -... -.-- . --··-- .- -. -.. .. .-.. --- ...- . -.-- --- ..- ·-·-·- ·-··-· .--. .-.. . .- ... . --··-- .. ... .- -... . .-.. .-.. .- .-. . -- . -- -... . .-. -- . .. -. - .... . --. ..- .-.. .-.. ... --- -. --. .- -. -.. - .... . ... ..- -. ... . - ... ·-·-·- .--. .-.. . .- ... . -... .-. . .- - .... . -.. . . .--. .-.. -.-- - .... . ... .-- . . - ... .- .-.. - .- .. .-. ·-·-·- .- -. -.. .--. .-.. . .- ... . -.. --- -. ·----· - -- --- ..- .-. -. -- . --··-- ..-. --- .-. .- ... - .... . -- --- --- -. .--. ..- .-.. .-.. ... - .... . ... . .- ..-. .-. --- -- - .... . ... .... --- .-. . --··-- .. - .--. ..- .-.. .-.. ... - .... . -- -... .- -.-. -.- - --- --. . - .... . .-. --··-- - --- --- ·-·-·- .-- . .-- .. .-.. .-.. -- . . - .. -. - .... . -. . -..- - .-.. .. ..-. . --··-- -- -.-- .-.. --- ...- . --··-- -.-. .... .- .-. .-.. .. .\n\n\n---\n\nTranslated:\n\nMy dear Isabella,\n\nI look across the waves and am reminded of the distance between us. The gull song brings me to that day we met. The salt air sipped at our skin and hair on the pier that day, and I managed to match that first flirting with your eyes. With a first look we knew. We began marking our days with shared sunsets; our fingers danced on each other's palms as if they were nobles on a ballroom room floor; our whispers sung of tomorrow's dreams; and our lips, oh our lips, how they would spend those days. As the moon pulls the ocean from the beaches, we were pulled from each other. At different ports, we yearned to be in each other's arms again. That's what drew us both to sailing. And now, we are but literally passing ships in the ocean. I write you though today with sadness on my mind. I've fallen ill, and my ship's physician said I probably wont make it to port. I had to write to you at least once more though, Isabella. I wanted to say a final time, \"Goodbye, and I love you.\" Please, Isabella remember me in the gull song and the sunsets. Please breathe deeply the sweet salt air. And please don't mourn me, for as the moon pulls the sea from the shore, it pulls them back together, too.\n\nWe will meet in the next life, my love,\n\nCharlie" ]	2
	[WP] You live an ordinary, mundane life but when you sleep, your conscience seemingly goes off to another world where you partake in adventures. Each time you sleep you continue where you left off. Your family is worried you are suffering from a medical condition since you are sleeping all the time.	[ "\"Where the hell is Clark now!\" Mrs. Flagston yelled as she walked out of her office. The other workers looked around to see Clark's cubicle empty. One of the workers shrugged.\n\n\"Most likely in his other office taking his mid morning nap!\" he teased. The older woman grumbled.\n\n\"Someone find him and tell him those reports are due in an hour or he will have plenty of time to nap when he is fired!\"\n\nClark was in another part of the building. He was sitting on the toliet of the training room bathroom. It was hardly used and Clark had used this place plenty of times. He knew he shouldn't be sleeping at work but this was a matter of life or death!\n\n- - -\n\nClark and his team were holding off the creatures as best as they could. The portal that linked his world to this place was was wide open and the only thing stopping the invasion was Clark and his rag tag team of adventurers. His friends fired machine guns and lightening weapons at the almost endless stream of dark creatures. \n\n\"KEEP FIGHTING! WE CAN'T LET THEM THROUGH! WE CA...\" Clark started to yell but soon was fading away.\n\n\"No... not now!\" he cried out.\n\n- - -\n\nClark's eyes shot open to see his boss shaking him awake. Mrs. Flagston let go of his shoulders and placed her hands on her hips.\n\n\"So... tell me why I should pay you for na...\" she started to say but the man quickly got up and pushed her to the side.\n\n\"Get out of the way! You have no idea what you have done!\" he yelled as he ran for his desk. Grabbing his keys he ran to his car a quickly drove home.\n\nClark's wife, Jenny, hung up the phone as her husband ran into the house and quickly ran for the bed room. Jenny ran after him.\n\n\"Clark... that was your boss on the phone! She said you were sleeping at work!\" his wife said following him. \n\n\"You didn't go to the doctor did you? You have a problem Clark and you need help!\" she said as he went into the bedroom and popped two sleeping pills.\n\n\"I... I'll explain... la...ter..\" he whispered as he drifted back to sleep. He was already tired he just took the pill to get him down quicker.\n\n- - -\n\nClark stood in the main portal chamber. His friends dead and the door for the portal was barred. In one hand he had a pistol the other a broadsword. When his bitch boss woke him up his team was wiped out. \n\n\"Bitch doomed us all!\" he said to himself as he heard the door being slammed over and over. He knew he had no chance to fend off the hoard but he could at least try!\n\nSoon the door broke open. The demons stood at the door, ready to rush in. But they waited. Clark readied himself.\n\n\"What are you waiting for? Come on!\" he screamed. \n\n\"They are waiting for me...\" a female voice said. \n\nStepping forward from the demons was a beautiful pale skin woman with long flowing black hair, pitch black eyes and a smile that was pure evil. She wore a black robe covered in symbols that was opened to show the bikini like outfit that showed her perfect pale body. \n\n\"Lilium...\" Clark said, raising his pistol to fire. \n\nShe was the empress of the dark worlds, an embodiment of the terrible ancient gods that lay in slumber. Clark took aim. Maybe killing her would end this. Maybe this will end the almost endless war he had to fight in his sleeping hours.\n\nShe chuckled as she lightly waved her hand. His gun went flying to the other side of the room. As he tried to raise his sword he found to his horror he couldn't move.\n\n\"What...\" he whispered in pain. \n\n\"You lost.\" she said as she walked up to him.\n\n\"I have to say. You and your little friends put up a hell of a fight. And for that... I wont kill you. You can stay here as long as you want!\" she said with a laugh as with another wave of her hand made Clark go flying to the other side of the room. He hit the wall hard, causing him to scream in pain.\n\n\"Don't worry... I'll let you wake up some time soon... And I will take very good care of Jenny for you!\" she said, licking her lips and making the other demons laugh. \n\nClark watched in horror as the Lilium and her demons walk though the portal. Unable to move as he was frozen on the floor.\n\n- - -\n\nJenny stood there, watching her husband sleep. She thought about calling a doctor but she knew they wouldn't come unless it was some kind of emergency. She looked towards her bedroom window and noticed how dark the sky was getting. It looked like a storm was coming... but the longer she looked out the darker the sky was.\n\n\"The hell is going on out there?\" she whispered.\n\n\"It's not hell sweet heart.\" A woman's voice said behind her. She turned around to see an odd but beautiful woman standing at her bedroom door. Behind her were several large beast.\n\n\"Clark sadly won't be joining us right now. But I think when he comes around we'll figure something out for him!\" the woman said as she smiled and walked in, the beast walking around her and almost lunging at Jenny.\n\nJenny screamed as Clark laid in bed, his face a mix of pain and worry as he so desperately tried to wake up.", "Three rituals that define the life of Jeremy McNutt\n\n1. Toast with cheese and ham in the morning.\n2. Staring at Vanessa on the bus.\n3. A glass of milk after supper.\n\nI just read this magazine. It had these celebrities, and it told you the rituals that made them who they are. I tried making my own list. But I doubt anyone would be interested in them. Except my friends in the Bloop maybe.\n\n\"Jeremy? How about we play a board game? You used to love Castles and Creditors.\"\n\nMy mom is a good person. I think her list would be something like this:\n\nThree rituals that define July McNutt\n\n1. Trying to get Jeremy up in the morning.\n2. Planning supper.\n3. Trying to make Jeremy sleep a little less.\n\n\"Alright I'm just going to take a nap first.\"\n\nMom sighed and counted to ten in her head. I could tell, because she moved her fingers. She started doing this after she began seeing her friend from work at 4:00 pm every other tuesday.\n\n\"Alright, honey. I'll wake you in twenty minutes. Is that cool?\"\n\nThe look on her face when she said 'cool' was just like the face of the German guy living down the street when he said 'good afternoon'. Like they were alien invaders who didn't know what words meant and were slightly terrified of being found out. Mom was no alien. The German might be.\n\nBloop^Bloop^Bloop^Bloop^Bloop\n\n\"Master Jeremy! You looked quite pale, as if you were to have another one of your notorious fainting spells.\"\n\nMr. Dread stroked his beard and struggled to look at me through his bushy eyebrows.\n\n\"No worries, Mr. Dread,\" I said. \"I'm here. Let's go catch that dragon.\"\n\nWe scaled the Mountain of Doom and made our way to the Cave of Sorrow. This was where the old witch said the dragon lived.\n\n\"Finally,\" said Mr. Dread. \"We have arrived.\"\n\n\"Would you like to hear my rituals,\" I asked him.\n\n\"Why, your rituals? Of course. Of all the members of the Society of Legendary Beasts, you have the greatest track-record. I would be most delighted to hear of these rituals of yours.\"\n\nI tell him. He nods. It's a serious kind of nod.\n\n\"I have one question, Master Jeremy.\"\n\n\"Yeah?\" I say..\n\n\"Who is this Vanesse? Is she the princess of your homeland?\"\n\nI think for a bit.\n\n\"She's not a princess, but she's really cool.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said Mr. Dread, \"I've learned a thing or two from monster hunting. If you go after women the way you go about catching beasts, you rate of success is 100%.\"\n\n\"Really?\"\n\n\"Yes. But listen,\" he said and grabbed me by the shoulder. \"I'm talking about the attitude here, not the method. With the courage you've displayed all these years past, I know deep in my heart that you can catch this Vanessa.\"\n\n\"I don't want to catch her. I just want to sit next to her at lunch maybe.\"\n\nMr. Dread gave me a sly nod. I don't know what that was about.\n\n~~BLOOP~~\n\n\"Jeremy?\"\n\nMom smiled gently. \"I prepared the game and fixed us some snacks. You think you want to play?\"\n\nI yawned. \"Sure, mom.\"\n\nShe laughed a little.\n\n\"Hey mom.\"\n\n\"Yeah?\"\n\n\"Is the German guy an alien?\"\n\nShe gave it some thought. \"Yes, he is. Technically.\"\n\nI thought so." ]	2
	[WP] Everyday you wake up with a new random Super power that affects your daily life but the power you had the day before disappears. You can't keep your powers long enough to master them so you try to live everyday life as normal as possible.	[ "My eyes open to a void of black silence. I swing my legs over my bed and stand. In two strides I reach the light and flick it on. My room is identical to the night before. My sigh of relief is expelled unconsciously. I've gotten use to clean up after myself, since last week I woke up being able to bend water. I flooded my room about an hour before I woke up. The mess was unbelievable.\n\nI take a deep breath and begin my day. After so long of having powers that I can't control, I simply allow them to come and go as they please. I get dressed and brush my teeth, pulling my long brown hair up into a messy bun. I head for the kitchen, pulling eggs and milk from the fridge. I pop off the top of the milk, grab a glass, and pour.\n\n\"This stupid dog never listens. Move!\"\n\nThe gallon of milk hits the floor. My head pops up and looks around. Who was that? My heart races as I grab a knife and check the other rooms. I check the front door. Locked. No one is here.\n\n\"I hope she is awake. This is super important. She can't miss another.\"\n\nThe knock on the door distracts me from the odd sentences I continue to hear. I reach the door and pull it open. \n\n \"Are you ready\", my little brother asks. \"Her outfit is fine, but that hair won't due in court.\"\n\nMy hand flies to my bun and I smile weakly, \"almost.\"\n\nI take a quick trip to the bathroom to brush my hair straight and then I return. As I do, I continue to get flashes of odd thoughts from my brother. I shake my head and it clears for a moment only to be refilled with.....\n\n\"I wonder if Sarah will be in class later. She has been gone the last two days. Maybe she'll love me if I bring soup or something.......\"\n\nI laugh and my brother looks at me oddly. Oblivious to his reaction, I walk past him and out the door. Racing to the car and slipping inside. I watch as he closes my door and heads towards the car. He reaches it, now thinking of his dogs at home, and gets in. We head to court. I was arrest last month when I sneezed and accidentally teleported into a park. I was showering previously. It was awful.\n\n\"Beam, present shopping, his last words, I never could, where is she, basketball, dancing the night away.....\"\n\nNoise erupts and my hands press against my head. I'm hearing others thoughts! I feel a shove against my shoulder. I look up, tears streaming down my face. My brother says something and I just blink. My mind overwhelmed. \n\n\"Home,\" I try to shout, but have no idea how loud I am. He seems to understand and the car lurches as he swings into a U turn. The further we drive, the less voices I get. Until we are back to my driveway. I only hear him again.\n\n\"What happened? Do you need me to do something?\"\n\nFear makes his thoughts and words match exactly. I shake my head and open the car door. Knowing I won't be getting anything done today.\n\n\"I'll call you tomorrow. Forget about today.\"\n\nShock is what I leave in his eyes as I head back inside. I lock the door and return to bed. I pull my phone from my pocket, ready to waste another day." ]	1
Kind of a classic premise, but its an opportunity to improve your imaginative writing concerning dreams.	[WP] You're in a shared dream with your friend and your arch enemy and need to kill him in the dream	[ "I was in school, like any other regular day. The teacher asked me to present my project, I hadn't even started it. I walked to the front of class and discovered I wasn't wearing any clothes. I smiled. This was a dream... but this was also not the sort of dream I would dream. \n \nI looked around and discovered my best bud Greggo was cowering beside me in the same position. I decided this must be his dream. It's easy to accept outlandish ideas when you're dreaming, but I would later discover this to be true. \n \nGreg was a very professional sort, so this was understandably his greatest fears manifest. I, on the other hand, while able to appear professional at times, only do so to get what I want. My nightmares usually involve fighting and losing. \n \nI went to grab him by the collar but discovering only skin, settled for wringing his neck. \"THIS IS A DREAM.\" I shouted. He seemed to sober up a bit at seeing me in the same situation. \n \n\"Why are you here too, then?\" he asked me, but after a moment and before I could respond he exclaimed \"hey, its a shared dream then! I remember now, the Lich brought us both here to consume our souls! Wow, thats amazing!\" with his all too common stupid face of undeserved smartness all over it. I could just kiss it. \n \nI shook my head, clearing my mind. I grabbed him by the hand and lead him outside, phasing through the wall. A moment of realization dawned upon us. \"Ah, I see, its not night, the Lich spirit is just blocking the sun!\" Greg laughed. I glared. \n \n\"Look greg, you know we need to fight him back. He's a danger to everyone, and we might be the only ones capable of stopping him-\" I smiled. \"but why not have some fun while we're at it?\" A stygian void spread over my naked body like a sort of armor. Since it was a dream we could do anything. I decided it would delete any objects flying through it at a velocity different than its own of 20 kph. Next I summoned feelings of pure hatred and destruction and bit the back of my hand until it bled, and a sword technically made of blood and maniacal disposition gushed out of my veins. \n \nMeanwhile Gregory just imagined a lever and kicked it. A rectangular trap door uprooted the grass right next to us and a wardrobe, gun rack, and armor stand were thrust up. I recognized it all to be his riot gear from home. \n \n<ill end this here for now>" ]	1
	[WP] Earth was never meant to habitable. It was meant to be a prison for the worst creatures in the universe. Today, the jailers have landed to inspect their prison.	[ "\"Tunnel ends in 3...2...1... and we're out.\"\n\n\"Diagnostics, report.\"\n\n\"The lifeforms are progressing at the expected pace, Warden. They have either pacified or exterminated all prisoners.\"\n\n\"good, set their space programs back, and we'll head home. Can't let those humans sterilize our world.\"\n\n\"their next launch has been rigged, and their governing bodies convinced to delay further tries. Opening tunnel home in 3...\"\n\nfirst post!", "The blobs of flesh smashed without any grace upon the surface of the Earth, landing right in the middle of of nowhere. The head jailer eyed the grass with absolute disgust, taking delight in smashing it with his flomper. As he and his team of councilmembers flomped towards the city, he hissed at every single bunny he saw. He scowled at the butterflies. He growled at the flowers.\n\nHis team flomped to the city limit and spied an anomaly. The city, of which countless had been spotted by subcosmic sensors a few decades prior, demanded an explanation. The blobs grobbled past the sign, using their translators to determine their text, and flomped on. Finally the jailers inspected the town. The leader turned to his second officer and commanded him to scan for the life inhabiting the cities. With complete surprise, the prisoners had escaped. They were not the ones who built the city.\n\n\"What are these?\" Asked the leader, picking up a cat.\n\n\"According to my scans, it's a rare type of vertebrate called a Mammal.\"\n\n\"A Mammal? We didn't put any Mammals here! Are there any others?\"\n\nThe second officer looked into a building and responded, \"Oh yes there are. These pests must have made the cities.\"\n\n\"Where are all of the Max Security Prisoners?\" The leader asked.\n\n\"As far as I can tell, the mammals couldn't have survived in an environment with them in the ecosystem.\"\n\n\"Where did they go, then?\" Asked the leader. One of the lower officers responded.\n\n\"There's one of them. Close genetic match with these strange things,\" he said, pointing to a pigeon.\n\n\"That is a Max Security Prisoner?\" Said the leader.\n\n\"Looks like it.\"\n\n\"Well that's torn it. They've escaped somehow ages ago. We'd better disconfigure the planet and start from scratch, we don't want these mammals spreading to any nearby systems.\"", "(PART 1) \"Must be the storms coming in from the north, its like-like every year this happens around spring break..\", its six in the morning as I unwillingly eavesdrop on the early morning phone call Miko takes, \"..cant it be any other week? Like perhaps a week where weather doesnt exist?\". Miko cant help but make the world appear falling apart when dramatising about our year long planned trip to the Virgin Islands. Neither of us have ever been to a beach before, and through the years of our friendship, or rather 'bro-mance', we would often go to raves or out hiking around the national park near us to escape our reality. We met in our sophomore year of college..almost five years ago now..and have since been in the same boat, which is; college debt, broken relationships, hangovers, terrible job interviews and ultimately our dropping out of college during our junior year.\n \n Content is a word I could use to describe the flow of life at the moment. Nothing spikes up out of control on the richter scale enough to stress me out, of course being a barista is neither the easiest or hardest of the jobs to have. Every morning when i'm not awakened earlier than I should be from Miko my schedule sees me working out for an hour including a light swim at the indoor community apartment pool. Both forms of exercise put my senses into a state of euphoria, eventually so much so that addictive thoughts of it form when im at work brewing coffee. My love for getting a smooth cardio exercise in is almost on par with my love for coffee, hence me working as a barista, and unfortunately with a wasted degree in Psychology.\n \n \"Listen man if we see the storms happening again like last year down there, because look..I see..I can see on the radar the patch of severe coming through. So if that stays then once again me and Xander wont be able to make it and we'll cancel our trips.\" Miko explains to his college friend whom I never met and coincidentally owns a shop at one of the hotels at Charlotte-Amolie, that the hurricane is too much of a problem to make it down there. Finally he hangs up the phone.\n\n \" So if we end up cancelling im gonna just call work and have them fill me in for next week, more money isnt a bad option.\" Miko listens and shows a face of dissapointment.\n\n \"Dude you always work, I mean I know this trip probably wont happen but at least im trying to think positive for it. Why do you want to give up so soon?\"\n\n \"Yeah I know, life is crazy man but I still have to prepare for emergencies or random excursions. The trip isnt likely to happen so ill just save more money for a roadtrip or something.\"\n\n \"Sure, whatever works for you. You getting ready for work?\"\n\n Its around seven in the morning now and my shift isnt for another few hours. My alarm was set at eight so im contemplating getting a few more minutes of shuteye, or a quick workout. Slowly the choices of the two and the quick passing of minute after minute before work stresses me out. First, the trip isnt happening and secondly I want a raise, suddenly my mind is forming tributaries of doubt. My eyes are dreary.\n\n \"Was going to take a swim then a shower and leave, im beyond tired though.\" What was my last day before vacation turned into an average monday.\n\n \" Cool, I got the day off so im just going to use it for sleep.\" Which he does immediately after saying that, quite selfishly seeing as he woke me up.\n\n Looking out the window onto the shiny concrete wet from a light drizzle under the grey sky I imagine myself just walking. Step after step there grows a picture, of life passing by endlessly like a photo album showing me memories ive forgotten. The clouds and scent of rain triggers my brain to start heading down memory lane, none are specific enough to detail every little thing placed in it but the common trait in them is the atmosphere. Whether its the slow moving wall of cumulonimbus clouds rolling in over the city or the lush and colorful sun rays hitting through them, my first observation is the sky with my memories relying on it.\n\n Lately my head has been on the outer reaches of the solar system it seems, searching for signs of commonalities to what ive seen or can relate to. As is the minds of many human beings like myself, living and wondering until the end meets. Certain few actually put the pieces together for all of us to progress and explore while laying a foundation for humankind to add on to. \n\n What if my studies were wasted on Psychology? Cant turn back time yet I feel as though I made a mistake not choosing another subject. Possibly a degree in Physics & Astronomy could have been a better choice, or a more fulfilling one at least. \n\n As those thoughts stay steady my body goes on autopilot and gets ready for another day of work. Coffee will take my mind off of it.", "“Captain, we are getting closer to Prison Planet 42. The shields are on maximum just as procedure. The computer started to analyze the data from the planet and close surroundings.”\n\n“Thank you lieutenant, continue. Let me know if any of the prisoners are still alive.”\n\nThe science officer who was there to represent the Queen’s interest, was quite surprised by the results of the findings. He just shouted: “Bloody hell, that is impossible.”\n\n“What’s wrong Doc?” - asked the Captain.\n\n“They are still alive. Not just alive but thriving. I don’t believe this. 200 thousand local years ago when we dropped these so called humans in this planet we were sure they’re going to die here. This planet is a perfect prison planet. Most of its land covered by water, constantly changing climate and weather. Not to mention the plenty of local species which could kill us within a short period of time. They’ve killed all other species on their origin planet without even a second thought. The empire had to do something without upsetting its citizens since all life equal. So we brought them here.”\n\n“Thank you Doc, that is enough. I’m familiar with the history.”\n\nAs they were thinking about what they should do next, the alarm went off on the bridge loudly. But not for long. Within 5 seconds there was only debris in the place of the spaceship. \n\nAnd the space-junk just got a little bit bigger around Earth. ", "------------------\n(PART 2)...Few days later...\n\n Alarm rings. My bed is messy, as well as my hair. Sounds of metal and bags being moved around escape from the living room into my bedroom. Miko is already packed and im halfway there as well, but just waking up I have really no time until the uber gets here to take us to the airport.\n\n In a drastic change of heart and self convincing I decided to give the trip a shot regardless of the possible dangers of the hurricane following the waters to Virgin Islands. Miko of course worried like me, was much more enthusiastic of the trip. Maybe I was going against my own will and testing my mental strength to overcome fears because being trapped in a possible hurricane is a worrisome advenure. Though the airlines didnt seem to have a problem, seeing as they booked us a day later than originally planned..must mean the storm isnt as much of a threat.\n\n Outside our uber awaits, im still barely packed but the anxiety of being late forces me to hurry. Every few minutes the sun brightens up the skies, while just over the hill you could see the outline of the sun itself rise. Again looking through the window I can see city streets below. Roads are rather empty for a tuesday morning, with not many people on the sidewalks oddly enough. Granted the city of Raleigh isnt exactly heralded as a busy area like NYC but any downtown area on a Tuesday morning is going to be somewhat filled with a crazy crowd of people trying to get to work.\n\n \"Hey Miko ill be ready in a few!...Miko?\" \n\n As I walk into the living room there he stands staring directly into our TV, just staring. Im looking at him instead of the Tv until I hear what was being said:\n\n \"This is an emergency. Please stand by.....\"\n\n Words ive never heard unless it was a severe thunderstorm, but this was not the same. The colors consisting of red, yellow, blue, white and green filled the monitor like it was the screen you see for a nuclear war being born. Never have I witnessed this but im also wondering if its a technical error?\n\n \"Miko im confused what do you think is happening?\"\n\n \" Uhh im not too sure but im on edge right now, this is not supposed to happen, whatever it is thats going on.\"\n\n \"It could be an error or something, let me call our cable company.\"\n\n The wi-fi is somewhat weak. In fact its completely cut off. Our electricity around the apartment is also shutting down, now aside from the sunlight reaching in, the entire apartment is dark. Pulling my phone out I can see that the pattern of going dark now applies to mobile devices. Literally everything I see is shutoff including the TV, no longer is the 'emergency alert' message showing either. \n\n Coming from my bedroom I can hear my alarm awakening again, it decides to play multiple music stations comparable to someone quickly turning through radio stations. Sounds of music, talk shows, commercials all just endlessly being played in a carousel until it sticks to one station finally. Then it shuts back off. Quickly I race into my room to study my alarm clock, and as I try to figure out whats wrong a light brighter than two suns filled my room with blinding impact.\n\n For a few seconds I cant see. My vision comes back and now here I am again, looking out through the window. The atmosphere paints a color of near red, and green following what looks like the widest chemtrail ive ever seen leading down the sky into the horizon. From a distance and a quick seconds worth of a glance I could see the object causing this rather frightening last couple minutes. It appeared to be a meteor. The size even from a distance was gigantic, like looking at the moon in the night and being able to put your index finger and thumb around it, measuring no more than the size of a quarter. Before I knew it, the meteor was gone but in the distance of the horizon I could somehow see the impact. \n\n This was all happening too quickly. I want to call out to Miko but all I can do is observe as I stand frozen looking at what was likely a comet rather than a meteor. Im at this point starting to feel weak and almost completely out of touch with whats happening, I want to desperately wake up from a dream and in the comfort of knowing im going to work. This was it, no species exists after an impact that can be seen from thousands of miles away. The mushroom cloud forms like a nuclear bomb, only this was the cause of a comet that likely landed somewhere in asia judging by the size of it and where it was leading to. \n\n Im now beginning to picture death and utter chaos, as well as memories and what if's. What if we had a longer time on earth? What if this didnt happen? Why did I drop out of class? I couldnt have been more heartless and not call my mom on her birthday, did she still love me? The questions and emotions are making their point, then my mind shifts to a deep mourning for not only myself but for everybody ive ever known or ever existed. To think that our history will be wiped away so easily is a humbling thought, and a nightmare.\n\n These remaining minutes become somewhat relaxing. Miko enters my room, we both express to one another on a different level of consciousness our acknowledgement of the end. Our lives, the life surrounding it and the progress we have made. We dont talk, but rather stand and witness this universal event together as we embark into the unknown. \n\n All anxiety and fear goes away, im now understanding the natural impact of it all. Surprisingly the positives come to light. This is an event of life being started as one is ended, and inside this complex and comfortably made shelter we call an apartment all I can think about is the future. \n\n Vibrations fill the apartment, then it grows and grows stronger as plates fall out of the cabinets and windows start to crack. Earth is shaking violently, and the atmosphere will soon be covered. Im sensing the impact of the comet coming closer like a Tsunami.\n \n \"Xander, im glad you changed your mind about the trip.\" \n \n \"It wouldve been nice, seeing the beach. Its beautiful just thinking about it.\"\n", "The Circle, as it were, extends beyond all reasoning and comprehension. Reaching past the petty boundaries of the mortal planes and deep into the depths of astral chaos, they still found a purpose for each and every planet within the nigh-boundless lengths of the mort-realm.\n\n\nEarth, they decided, was to be a haven for the damned.\n\n\nCreatures that sailed the cosmos before the true birth of the materium; beasts that tore the flesh of planets and sentients alike; beings that hunted in the cold depths of space. From each and every corner of the Circle, all entities that threatened the divine destiny mapped out for reality were hunted and captured by Hoarders, the fell fetch-beasts of Her'gon.\n\n\nBattles were waged, civilizations felled, and yet the Hoarders slowly collected each and every creature with potential for destruction. Mighty, shaggy beasts with claws like obsidian; coiled, limbless creatures that waited in the stilldark; wrathful, ravenous bipeds that waged war with no reason nor regard. All rounded up, housed within a mighty Ark, and sentenced to death- not by painless atomic derealization, not by a gentle end in solitary cells- no, such deaths would be too noble for such savages.\n\n\nDeath by bloodshed, at the hands of their fellow Ark-prisoners, aboard the most chaotic planet within the Circle. This was their punishment, to fade away into obscurity, denied even memory, as the records of the damned hell-planet were washed from all but the most obscure recesses of intellicorders.\n\n\nCrimes of bloodshed, punished by bloodshed, by all masters of such.\n\n\nThe Circle thrived for aeons, no longer occupied by war and disruption. The Hoarders returned to Her'gon, lauded as heroes and saviors. All within all returned to manifest the calling.\n\n\nAnd, obscured by boiling clouds and clouded memories, the inhabitants of Earth shed blood.", "“Exiting subspace FTL in three, two, one…”, announced the flight navigation as blessed gravity again filled the cabin. They had finished their long journey from the Omega Tao cluster at last. He was happy to be back in his own reality and out of the unnerving pressure of the void space. Glancing at the array of panels and screens he was happy to see the Sol system in his scanners. \n\nA quaint little star system, it held one of the most nightmarish places he could imagine nonetheless. A class sigma star with nine planets was hardly anything special but the real prize was the blue ball hidden among the gas giants. \n\n“Sir”, one of his crew began with a look of dread etched onto his face. “It appears we will be arriving at our… destination in approximately fifteen minutes.” The poor lad was obviously overcome with the reputation of the prison planet. Not that he blamed him of course. As the empire’s ships had begun to scan the dark reaches of space, fantastic and strange worlds had come to light every day. Mountains and vistas that put their own to shame and truly bizarre bio scans of other worldly life flooded the interverse with reams of information. One of those finds had been the discovery of the third ball of rock from Sol several million years ago. Named simply, Eath.\n\n“Show some bedrock”, he gave his crew a stern glare as they made the final approach. “It’s not as if any of us will be stranded here!” Nervous chuckles arose from the crew as they came into localized scanning range. The vids back home were more than enough threat for most but he wanted to see this hell for himself. As triscans locked on, a perfect blue sphere circled by a battered moon slowly grew on the main screen. Gasps filled the cabin. \n\n“I’ve never seen that much dihydrogen monoxide in one place!” And this, of course, was true. No other place yet discovered in the universe held as much concentrated water as Eath. It was the reason their species feared this nightmarish landscape more than any other. The substance had been found on occasion across the cosmos but always in its inert solid form. They quickly learned its terrifying effects on their bodies after a crew had accidently heated a sample. Unfortunately, water had the same liquefying effect on them as heat did on it. Little was found of the crew but the on ship vids told the tale in all too vivid detail. \n\nAfter threats of anarchy and dissent began to tear at the edges of empire space the council began its search. They needed a deterrent strong enough to keep the colonies in line. They found it in Eath. After some devious mind on homeworld stumbled on the vids of that poor research crew, gods rest their souls, the threat of imprisonment on Eath was born. The vids were spread around the interverse as a form of propaganda and a clear warning. If you betray the empire then you will be imprisoned on the most bio hazardous planet ever found. The deadly effect it had on their species was named simply, the melting. \n\n\t“Making our final descent to orbit sir”, a quiver of fear ran through the cadets. All of them knew the threat that lay under their feet. Eath was the ever-present promise to any and all who dared defy the law of the council. It worked. \n\nThe only semi-habitable areas of the planet were large swaths of barren land on the interior of some of the continents. All the rest was covered in an unnatural blanket of pure poison or noxious water filled weeds. The very atmosphere held enough moisture to make one uncomfortable in the least and dreadfully sick at the worst. Enough mineral nutrients could be found to sustain a meager existence if one could avoid the ever present danger. Trace amounts of iron aluminum and, his favorite, copper were available but scarce on the surface. Reports of the liquid substance falling from the sky on almost every location during a Sol rotation made him shake. Life on Eath was the fate that kept their enemies in line. One would be hard pressed to survive long.\n\n“Sir…”, the confusion in his science officer’s voice was palpable as he joined him in front of the ships main console. “There appears to be some sort of sentient life coming up on the scans.” \n\n“Scan again soldier,” he reached for the report. “It must have been a bad reading.” A sense of dread crept into his mind. It was simply not possible that life had found its way to Eath’s surface. All calcium carbonate based life was doomed to a terrible death on the surface. All automated scout reports had read all clear. The very reason they were out here was to drop off the first prisoner to Eath. The poor misguided soul.\n\n“I don’t think it was a faulty reading”, his officer brought up the long range cameras and a detailed rendering filled the main screen. A shocked silence filled the room. The surface of all the continents was crisscrossed by obvious infrastructure as well as dotted by megacities. Adding to the confusion was the concentration of buildings on the edges closest to the oceans. \n\n“By the gods,” he gaped at the screen and asked for an enhanced image on the coastline. As the ships sensors added more detail to the image tall pink beings unlike anything they had ever seen came into focus. \n\n“What type of rock are they made of?” screamed his first mate. “Why are they so close to all of that horrible water?” exclaimed another.\n\nThe scene grew clearer as a large band of silica, no doubt torn apart by the dreadful oceans, bordered land and sea. There were hundreds of them laying down on odd rectangles and hiding beneath colorful circles of cloth. The beings could be seen thrashing about in the deadly liquid substance in droves. The worst part being their comrades on land didn’t appear to care in the slightest. \n\n“Why are they not saving their own from such a horrible fate?”, said his bewildered science officer. \n\nHe turned to his crew his crew with horror in his rocks. “I don’t think they are dying in the water, I think they are playing in it.”", "Gor grumbled as he piloted prison transport #DDX-0098876689. The large beast cracked his neck as he looked at his co-pilot/partner Droid Pri Takar. The droid's single red eye kept watch of the life supports of the new batch of creatures that needed to be put away. Once in a while it would look out the window to their target. Gor leaned back in his seat.\n\n\"First time out here?\" he asked. The droid nodded.\n\n\"Was supposed to be on the last couple missions but they were all scrubbed due to the war.\" the droid answered. Gor nodded.\n\n\"Yeah, the federation had been slacking on deliveries. I haven't been here... wow I couldn't tell you when!\"\n\n\"You know, the memory is the first thing to go on your kind.\" the droid joked. Gor chuckled.\n\n\"Well... I will make sure to pump a couple loads of my great Athrodilx seed in your momma droid!\" Gor responded. The droid shook it's head.\n\n\"Again, don't need to know you fuck random hooker bots on your weekends!\" \n\nGor laughed as he checked his scanners. Pri sat up as if something hit him.\n\n\"Gor... when you last came here... what did the place look like?\" Pri asked. Gor kept looking at his scanners.\n\n\"A shit hole planet. Unfit for anything to really live there. I figured most of the creatures we left would have killed each other off, why?\"\n\n\"Look at the planet now...\" Pri said.\n\nGor lifted his head. He was about to ask the bot what his problem but he saw what the droid saw...\n\nCities! Space Junk! A Primitive Space Station!\n\n\"This can't be right!\" Gor said as the ships comm system was picking up signals. He tuned into one to see what looked to be a weird pink looking creature playing with a gray delfond!\n\n\"The hell is that thing doing! That delfond will tear it apart!\" Gor shouted. The pink creature looked towards Gor as if it heard him.\n\n\"Barkly is not only a dog, but he is part of the family! That's why we give him Herb's Dog Chow!\" the pink thing said as the delfond wagged its tail then shoved it's head into a small bowl and ate what looked to be pebbles.\n\n\"What... are those things?\" Pri whispered. Gor changed the frequency. This time a angry white Gorlaplax was on it's hind legs, bellowing its death call as it attacked a fat Blo. A voice started to speak.\n\n\"The polar bear is losing it's habitat at an alarming rate! For only 2.99 a week you can help save these beautiful creatures...\"\n\n\"The pink thing's want to save the Gorlaplaxes! Those things wiped out 22 different planets before the Federation hunted and captured them!\" Gor yelled in shock.\n\nThe video was over and was now showing a black skinned creature that looked like the pink skinned creature from before. This one had a wonfar and a small burlk. \n\n\"You would think a monkey and a kitten would never get along... but Koko and Mittens are out to prove the world that even the most wild beast can become great friends!\" the black creature said before the screen change showing the wonfar the creature's named \"Koko\" was playing with the burlk. Gor looked at his partner.\n\n\"Call this in... tell them we may have a Class 6 lifeforms that may be a threat to the universe!\" the large beast said, still watching in horror as these odd creatures seemed to be able to control the wild beast of fifty different galaxies. " ]	8
	[WP] "I don't care for what you've done with the place..."	[ "“Just get it done.” click\n\nI set the phone down and grabbed my shoes. Robert didn’t seem to be willing to budge on his plan for the afternoon, not that I had expected him to do so of course. It’s just what he proposed was a little over the top in my opinion, and rather expensive as well. But that wasn’t any of my business, was it? \n\nI pulled on my coat and gloves and walked out of my door. Immediately I was hit by a cold gust of wind. Unfortunately, my truck’s heater always took a few minutes to make the cabin to a mildly comfortable level. \n\nI began loading my gear into the back of the truck. After years in the business, you acquire a lot of equipment, and I had some of the best. The crappy old truck was just a cover, and with a tarp over my materials no one would ever suspect a thing if they saw me driving or parked in front of someone’s house. But I wasn’t getting paid for this job. I was doing this as a personal favor for Robert. He wanted a little surprise for his wife.\n\nRobert’s house was about an hour’s drive from where I lived and, in this weather, it would certainly take longer than that. That wouldn’t give me much time to set up before Serena arrived home with some of her friends. \n\n\n\nAfter a long drive of me freezing into a Popsicle, I arrived outside Robert’s house. Actually, house is an understatement. Mansion is more like it. I never was entirely sure what Robert did for a living, but her certainly made quite a bit. Normally I would charge quite a hefty penny for this, but between Robert being my friend, and being able to hear the screams of those inside, I would be paid for in different ways.\n\nI set to work immediately. Robert stayed out of my way, and didn’t even bother to say “hello.” Not that I cared, as I need to concentration. \n\nI set about hanging strings about the doorways and windows. I always liked to use the bright colors like red, yellow, and orange. Perhaps I’m weird, but I just feel like they are so much more lively than all the others.\n\nNext I set about setting up the net on the ceiling. I had to be careful with this step, as one small mishap could prevent everything else from working as intended. The net was fairly lightweight, but it was incredibly strong. Nothing would be getting through it.\n\nFinally, I loaded the net up with its contents, and told Robert that I was done. He thanked me, and began to allow people to trickle into the room. I was sure to turn off the light for the maximum effect.\n\nFinally, Serena pulled into the driveway, and stepped out of the car, a pair of other women who I didn’t recognize flanking her. The trio was talking and giggling as the approached the house, and finally stepped inside. \n\nThe tension in the room was unbearable. I stood near the outer edge, near the light switch, so I could flip it at the right moment, allowing everyone to witness the spectacle which followed. \n\nFinally, Serena stepped into the room. I flipped the switch and hit the button…\n\n\n\n“Surprise!” everyone yelled. The net above released an explosion of balloons, and the screams of joy of the people all around the room was enough reward for my labors. The strings of streamers all around the room accented perfectly with the color of the walls. \n\n“Happy birthday honey!” Robert said, grabbing Serena in a hug. \n\nI headed over to the refreshments table set up near the back of the room. Might as well enjoy myself now before I have to clean up this mess.\n\nThanks for reading! ", "When my mother died and the coroner's people came to scoop her up, her bony hand still clung to the handle of her teacup. If you tell this to anyone who knew her, (and I have) they'll all chuckle exactly once and say the same thing. \"That's Meryl, alright.\"\n\nMeryl drank tea whenever she was working, and she worked all the time. She never had to, really. She just did. Her (and consequentially, my) employer was one of those tour bus companies that caters to sports teams and business retreats and so on. Her official title was Assistant Manager, but if you saw her you'd have to assume that she owned the place. She certainly owned the job. There was hardly a moment when she wasn't on the phone with someone or another. Taking reservations from clients or cussing out the mechanics, all between sips of tea.\n\nWhen she died, I was promoted to her position. I inherited her office and her house. It was paid off, and nicer than my apartment so I moved in.\n\nIt instantly felt weird. Like trying to fit into her cookie cutter shaped hole, when I wasn't really even a gingerbread man at all. \n\nNow, I didn't suck at the job. I could deal with the house. Truth be told, it didn't really even bother me so much that she was gone. It was just all of those things together weighted me down. I just wasn't her.\n\nIn a gray mood, I got absolutely sloshed one night on boxed wine by myself. I was sitting in the kitchen, just staring at the floor. It dawned on me that I was staring at the place where she'd died. I could picture her there still, teacup curled up in her hand.\n\nSomehow, and maybe it isn't right, but it made me feel better. Like I wasn't fighting with her ghost anymore; she's gone, I'm here. If she doesn't like it, tough.\n\nI made tea - her tea - and started to sober up. Feeling slightly sick from the wine, I went out to the porch and lit a cigarette.\n\nThen it hit me. Literally. One of those great big tour buses that my mother Meryl cared so much about swerved right off the highway, down the embankment, through the front yard, hit me, the porch, and stopped inside the kitchen of my mother's house.\n\nI was laying there, another piece of broken debris in the yard. I know it wasn't real, what I saw, but nonetheless, there's the solid memory of it in my mind just before losing consciousness: my mother stepping out of that bus, into the kitchen. She grabbed the teacup off the counter (miraculously unspilled), turned right to me and said,\n\n\"I don't care for what you've done with the place...\"" ]	2
	[WP] you are a god that is able to manipulate time and space, how do you use this power, you do insane magic tricks on the street.	[ "Ooooh\n\n\n\nA murmur of interest rippled through the crowd as Begun pullet yet another handkerchief from his ear. He found they particularly liked the bright yellow ones which even had the stern fatherly faces smiling knowingly behind their enraptured children. The small little animals' brains were churning away trying and failing to find reason in the seemingly infinite supply of colorful kerchiefs - leading to the conclusion that Begun was indeed a magician. It was all nonsense, of course, the fathers knew and they were, of course, completely wrong at the same time. He literally could pull things out of his ears all day if he wanted. He was a god. He could pull them out of... well there was a thought. He eyed a particularly unimpressed gentleman standing in the crowd. Possibly a businessman or some other dull and uninspired human of this world buried deeply in the machine of the collective administration. Incredible how self-functioning it all was, he remarked to himself.\n\n\nThe man's eyes widened suddenly and he began coughing, earning him some additional space and irritated glances from the rest of the group. \n\n\n\"My lady!\" He called to the beautiful woman in the red dress. \"Would you be so kind as to give me a number?\" She was often here when he performed, and she was obviously attractive to the other males in the audience. They had never spoken but he enjoyed it when she appeared. A familiar face.\n\n\nHer animal instincts kicked in as fast as her higher processes shut them down - truly these creatures were beautifully complicated creations - and she flushed red before stammering \"Uh... 10..?\" \n\n\n\"Excellent! An excellent choice! I was certain you would choose that. So certain in fact, that I bet someone here has a card with the number 10 on it! Hmmm?\" He looked about at the crowd with eyebrows raised, asking the holder to come forward. When none did, his eyebrows furrowed in mock confusion which earned some chuckles from the rest of the group. Everyone likes a performer. Begun grinned to himself as the hacking of the man with the cough grew worse.\n\n\n\"Sir, are you quite alright? Lets give him some room huma- er, people.\" The crowd, now given the permission to stare openly at the offending individual did so with earnest. The man in the middle glared at him before finally coming to a heaving crescendo. A small object shot out of his mouth to splatter against...\n\n\n\nSilence lay over the crowd as they watched the card float upright in the air before them, rotating slowly. Eyes craned up to see what it was hanging from, while others pointed at the number clearly labeled on the card: 10. \n\n\n\nBegun stared at the card as well. This was not part of the trick (he would never do something so obvious). As he looked on in surprise the man before the card wiped his mouth and clenched his fists angrily.\n\n\n\"Damn it, son, I told you to stop this! And to me no less, using me as your showpiece! You are in serious trouble.\"\n\n\nBegun gaped at his father, realising now that he should have very well known why the man had not been remotely impressed by the collective farting trick he had pulled on the crowd earlier. That one always earned some confused laughs. Now, the rest of the crowd simply stared at the two of them in utter confusion, farting trick clearly forgotten.\n\n\n\"You are a God son, or will be eventually at least. You need to stop playing with these worlds and start studying the high planes.\" As he spoke, the skies darkened and seemed to twist apart before fading altogether to be replaced by the shifting perception of the high planes. The current world could not of course render their properties properly and thus created a kind of wrenching infinite fissure across what had been the sky. It was not an impossibility that could be supported.\n\n\n\nA groan was heard from the crowd and people walking by as they stared upward ; several people vomited as their minds mistook the deeper planes for spatial vertigo. Others simply slackened as their minds, attempting to subconsciously chase the patterns unfurling above them but not mature enough to process the data coherently, simply spiraled into an endless loop. They would be considered vegetables by the rest of society from now on. \n\n\"No, father, they cannot know..!\" He cried, but it was too late. With a sorrowful face his father lowered his arms and the people and their world simply dissolved around him. He gasped, as the stars that had brought life to the plane blinked out, billions upon trillions of worlds. Entire galaxies simply shuttered as his father looked on with wet eyes.\n\n\n\"I used to have a world too, son. Until I made a mistake. We all do. We are never supposed to visit the worlds. They cannot know for then the only mercy is their oblivion. Left alone they will never see peace again. You would have learned this yourself soon enough.. and then had to destroy them as well. It is their fate for our folly. Come. It it time you ascended to Understanding.\"\n\nAs Begun ascended with his father, the void began to collapse around them.\n" ]	1
	[WP] In the distant future, the entire galaxy is connected to the Internet. What would GalaNet be like?	[ "The article was innocent enough ... \n\n\"Planetary President of Earth causes diplomatic incident.\"\n\nBut the comment section was a warzone.\n\nSuperHuman123 - Fk u, human masterrace, Tivaks can gtfo!\n\nNeutralObserver - @SuperHuman123 This one believes your opinion to be invalid, Tivakian trade is vital to the Sol economy.\n\nKal'uk tainu - Agsh'tuk shdaj NADRE!\n\nJackSnow33 - @Kal'uk tainu Pls speak common on forums jerk.\n\nSwapsee - This'll all blow over. Media is blowing it out of proportion.\n\nDragonboi6 - @Swapsee President literally gave Tivakian ambassador the stellar plague, wtf u talking about?\n\nKal'uk tainu - @JackSnow33 I WILL URINATE ON THE ASHES OF YOUR FALLEN RELATIVES MEATBAG!!!!!!\n\nMattyuluv - @Kal'uk tainu Don't feed this troll, jst a Gadaran tryin to cause trouble, easy to see.\n\nSEND_ALIEN_PICS - @Mattyuluv @Kal'uk tainu Not a gadaran u idiot, clearly Ouneia drone, do u even have proper translating software installed?\n\nCatsndogs - @SEND_ALIEN_PICS - Username checks out lol.\n\nLOVENOTWAR - Why can't we all just get along?\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] Write a story where you wake up and cant fall asleep for 24 hours. The next day you fall asleep after 23 hours. By 22 hours you've realized that you're going to run out of time	[ "Dimly, she realized it'd been almost a full day since she'd last slept. She drained the last dregs from her mug, left a few last strokes on the paper, and decided to call it a night. \n\nSunlight. It seemed to leak through the blinds, golden rays spilling out into the room. \n\nAh, hell. She probably wouldn't be able to back to sleep now, anyway. Back to the desk.\n\nIt wasn't the best work she'd ever done, but it was good enough. Scan, upload - ah. Now to wait. And wait. She refilled her coffee mug, opened up Netflix on another monitor, and thought about starting on next week's essay.\n\n\n One new comment:\n\n jackX2003: this is kinda unoriginal. good colors though, i guess\n\nCan't please everyone, right?\n\n PlasticPencil: Your mechanics are good, I just... feel nothing. This piece doesn't inspire anything.\n\nHmmph. Maybe she'd give sleep another go, after all.\n\n---\n\nShe awoke feeling rested. Had she slept a whole day? A quick glance at her computer said otherwise.\n\n...There was no way this was healthy. Might be time to cut back on the coffee.\n\nShe glanced at her essay notes, then sighed. \n\nUp late drawing again.\n\n BroadSword98: Meh.\n PterodactylTears: Maybe you should start with coloring books.\n\n---\n\nThere was, she realized, something strange going on. She hadn't fallen asleep once during lectures - and she'd hardly slept at all. \n\nShe set an alarm on her phone, threw her bag down, and collapsed on the couch.\n\n--- \n\nFour hours. Exactly four hours - and the alarm had gone unnoticed. \n\nShe stumbled into the kitchen, microwaved herself a dinner, and started the essay.\n\n--- \n\nThere was something very, very wrong. \n\nNo matter how tired she was, it was always the same. She'd slept an additional hour each day. Her sleep schedule had seemed to normalize a few days back- but now she was sleeping through her morning lectures. \n\nThe doctor had waved away her concerns. \n\n---\n\nNo, no, no. \n\nShe needed to call her parents. To do - What did she want to do? Everything seemed so trivial. There was so much she still had planned. She'd always wanted to travel - but she didn't have the money. There was no point in practicing drawing, anymore. Classes and homework seemed a waste of time. \n\nThe rain fell in sheets, pounding against the windows. The call hit voicemail, and she threw her coat back on. Good a time as any, for a walk.\n\n---\n\nEnergy drinks didn't help. Coffee didn't help. \n\nHer parents had called when she was asleep - it'd probably be the middle of the night for them right about now. \n\nShe rang anyway. \n\n\"...leave a message.\"\n\n\"Hey, Mom, Dad - \"\n\nThe phone seemed to weigh a thousand pounds.\n\n\"- Call me when you can. Love you.\"\n\nShe stifled a yawn, and only just managed to make it into bed.\n\n---\n\nOne hour left.\n\nShe spent it drawing." ]	1
	[WP]At the age of 13 everyone gets a familiar like a cat or a wolf that they are bonded too for life. You ended up getting a blue whale.	[ "We stood looking down into the tank, the bleachers empty behind us. \n\n\"It really said whale, did it?\" \n\nI looked sideways at the man in the blue jacket, who was flipping through his clipboard.\n\n\"Yeah, it says 'Blue Whale,'\" he replied without looking up. He pulled a pen out of his shirt pocket and rotated the clipboard to me. \"Now if you'll just sign on the line we can get you and Octavius out of here.\"\n\nI frowned down at the piece of paper. The man hadn't been very professional; I could see the list of all the other appointments for the day. Most people would get monkeys or birds. I personally had hoped for a some sort of big cat. My name, however, was definitely accompanied by the words 'Blue Whale.'\n\nI slowly signed my name and handed the clipboard back.\n\n\"Right,\" he said, \"so I hope you brought something to bring your little guy home.\"\n\n\"I mean, I brought this,\" I said, feebly raising a short dog leash from my right pocket.\n\n\"Sure,\" my assistant replied, narrowing his eyes at the little red strip of fabric. \"Give me a minute,\" he said, and walked away.\n\nAlone now at the edge of tank, I looked down into the water. Way down at the bottom, one big intelligent eye peered back at me, appearing out of the blue-black depths as if disembodied. I had been vaguely aware of this eye watching me for several minutes, but I'd been trying my hardest not to look directly at it. Now, without any distraction, and also due to the fact that the eye was roughly the size of manhole cover, I had to look. \n\nI pulled my phone from my pocket and held it close under my chin. \"Siri,\" I whispered, \"how much does a blue whale eat?\" \n\n\"A blue whale eats nearly 8,000 pounds of krill per day,\" the sharp British voice replied.\n\nThe large eye seemed to watch the motion of my hand as I slowly lowered the phone back to my pocket. I squinted my eyes tight, and managed to hold back all but the one tear, which dripped off my chin and disappeared soundlessly into the tank. ", "“Please state your name.”\n\nI rose slowly from my seat and raised my head, my eyes meeting those of the Inquisitor. She was looking down at me, her stern face softened by the pity that showed in her eyes. Her Familiar, a small barn owl with dark, unblinking eyes, was perched on her forearm, its round face also turned in my direction. Most animal Familiars stayed by their human's side. I had always been odd in that way, but had grown accustomed to the questions over the years as to where my Familiar was and had a rehearsed standard response always at the ready. Having a whale as a Familiar was unique, as there weren't many blue whales left in the world and marine Familiars were rather uncommon.\n\n“Erm...” I faltered for a split second and cleared my throat. “Justine Reynolds.”\n\n“And the name of your Familiar?”\n\nBefore I could stop myself a smile spread across my face. I remembered it so clearly, the first time I learned his name. He and I had bonded a week prior, just one month shy of my fourteenth birthday. Up until then, my mother had been in a not-very-well-concealed panic that I had not yet found my Familiar – most people did within the first few weeks of their thirteenth birthday, but not me. While she had assured me that I must simply have been a late bloomer, I still remembered the relief on her face when I told her that we'd found each other. I remembered the feeling of our bonding as well; the sensation of another consciousness entering my mind. \n\nEven after a week together he was still struggling to decide what he wanted to call himself. As a whale he had no need for a specific name, yet as soon as our minds became one he felt compelled to find a name for himself, a feeling which most animal Familiars shared. Sometimes the human Familiar chose the name for their animal counterpart, but he insisted that when he heard the right name he would know, so I left him to it. It wasn't until the end of our first week that he eventually found his name, when he overheard my cousin reading a story from the Bible at dinner. I wasn't particularly interested in the story – I had no interest in anything related to religion, but I felt him perk up at the mention of a sea creature, a great and fearsome monster of the deep. The warmth that I would later learn indicated his amusement washed over me, and he gave me the nudge that signaled his choice in a name. \n\n“Leviathan.” I responded to the Inquisitor, now struggling to hide my laughter. He always did have a flair for the dramatic.\n\nThe Inquisitor raised one eyebrow at me questioningly before returning to the paper in front of her.\n\n“And describe for me, if you would, the events of the 23rd of September last year.”\n\nI felt a lump swell in my throat. I opened my mouth to speak, then closed it again and swallowed, but the words wouldn't come. \n\nI remembered everything so clearly. I had been in a deep sleep, the gentle sound off the ocean waves crashing on the shore outside my window. Leviathan and I had always had a difficult time during my teenage years, as we rarely got the chance to see each other physically despite our constant mental connection. Although he spent time in many parts of the ocean during this time he had ultimately decided to settle himself of the coast of California, and when I was 18 I moved out there so that I could be closer to him. I had bought a small boat and paid for a spot on one of the docks almost immediately, so that I could sail out far enough to drop anchor and swim with Leviathan. I remembered the way his dark eyes twinkled as he swirled around me, massive and powerful while simultaneously being soft and graceful. I thought back on the roughness of his skin beneath my hands, with its smattering of barnacles and oh-so-light covering of soft hair. I was always jealous of those that were fortunate enough to have constant physical contact with their Familiar, but at the same time the distance had added a special element to our time spent together that served to only strengthen our bond.\n\nI had been asleep when I felt the pain wrench through my lower back. I screamed, blinded by the pain that coursed through my body all the way to my spine. At the same time I felt Leviathan's presence in my mind intensify, flooding it with fear and agony. My roommate rushed into my room, her hare Familiar bounding behind her. She gripped my arms and shook me as I shouted, twisting among my bed sheets. Even as I searched for the source of the pain in my back I knew it was him, not me, that was injured. I stumbled out of bed and ran down the stairs and out the front door towards the water. I felt the sand between my toes and the salty air hitting my face as I ran, my wet tears turning cold as they touched my cheeks. I hit the water and dropped to my knees, feeling the waves lapping against my legs. Closing my eyes I reached out for him, feeling for his consciousness at the edges of my mind. I felt his response, one final flood of warmth that spread through every inch of my body, before it retreated into nothingness. The pain in my back faded, and I knew he was gone. \n\nFor the first time in 10 years, I was truly alone.\n\nThe Inquisitor looked at me, taking in the tears streaming down my face as I stared down at my hands, unable to speak. She returned to the papers in front of her and shuffled them slightly, breaking the silence.\n\n“As you know, the Department of Familiar Affairs takes the death of an animal Familiar very seriously. Your case, however, is most unsual, as your Familiar was not in your presence at the time of injury. Therefore, the corporation responsible for the container ship that struck...” She glanced down that the paper in front her quickly. “...Leviathan, during his sleep, has agreed to pay reparations in the form of one hundred thousand dollars annually for the remainder of your own life. While we are all aware that this cannot compensate for your loss, it is our hope that this may help ease your suffering during this time.”\n\nI nodded my acceptance and turned to leave. Although I had not been formally dismissed, no one stopped me. I stepped outside the courthouse and felt the fresh air hit my face. I breathed in deeply, composing myself. Suddenly I felt a tug on my sleeve, and looked down to see a small girl and her mother standing next to me, a bright yellow canary fluttering around their heads. “Excuse me”, the mother said, a kind yet slightly exasperated look on her face, “but my daughter is wondering where your Familiar is.” I looked down at the little girl and felt the answer, the words that had rolled off my tongue automatically for the past 10 years, evaporate.", "My father and his father before him were lighthouse keepers. My family had called the small island of Dalver home for as long as we had our surname. \n\nThe rolling water and seafoam separated us from the mainland, though we were still close enough to see the individual trees dotting the landscape. My mother used to say that people take on the environment that they live in, soaking it in themselves. My grandmother said someday we'd be able to drink seawater, and swim without fear of the ocean currents. \n\nMy father came to me, his rough, salt-calloused hand found my shoulder and gave a strong, reassuring squeeze. His familiar was a seagull. He used to tell me that he was teased, the boy with a seagull. \n\n\"On the mainland, style clouds the mind, son. I'm lucky to have Brine. What better familiar than a seagull for a man in a lighthouse?\" \n\nI remember Brine's sharp eyes staring at me. Few people respect how clever a seagull can be.\n\nMy mother's mother lived with us on the island, she was a frail, old woman. Her frame showed hints of former strength. Her husband had been a lumberjack, Grandmother would boast of cutting logs until she was ready to go into labour. She would always keep a woolen blanket around her. A brown squirrel that looked sustained beyond its natural years used it as a nesting ground. The squirrel was balding, the top of its head visible from the overcast sun. It lay sleeping within the folds of fabric.\n\nSometimes I'd ask her about the squirrel. My parents had useful familiars, each with a practical purpose. I couldn't understand why Burrow just slept and hid with her. If I was lucky, I'd get some useful tidbit out of her. It was often frustrating work.\n\n\"There's more to a familiar than using it as a tool, eh?\" \n\nShe'd pause and twist her head squirrel-like.\n\n\"They are called familiars for a reason, eh?\"\n\nShe chittered whenever she gave that cryptic response.\n\nEvery youngling devoted a portion of their lives in wonderment to what familiar they may end up with. My friend Elson would come to visit sometimes. His father was a fisherman who had lost his wife. He was good friends with my father and sometimes would leave Elson to stay with us.\n\nWhen we were twelve, Elson came by for a week. He had brought with him a book called Familiars and Fables. We spent each night pouring through the book, reading stories of fantastic creatures and their human companions through known history.\n\n\"I heard that a boy in Frume got himself a fruit fly as a familiar, could you imagine? A stupid bug!\"\n\nHis face became contorted and he crossed his eyes. He skirted across the room making a buzzing sound before picking up an apple slice from lunch and obscenely gnawing on it.\n\nIt was the first time I felt a pang of fear towards getting a useless familiar. What if I got a fruit fly? \n\nThe air was cool and breezy as I looked back up at my father, mother and grandmother before me. Each in their own way extremely proud of me. It felt weird being the focus of their attention.\n\nMy father cleared his throat and spoke aloud, his strong voice carrying far on the wind.\n\n\"Today we gather for the Familiation. In the beginning man was alone, with no where to turn his thoughts but inward. The first familiars came to us and gave companionship. We grew connected and man was no longer alone. Today, let one of our own join us, so he may never be lonely.\nNow, three gifts from three familiars.\" \n\nBrine pecked the strings of a burlap bag that rested in my father's palm. Clutched within his beak, he flew to me. Landing on my arm, he dropped it in my shaking hand. I was unnerved, he had never landed on me before. \n\nGrandmother smiled with yellow teeth. Poor Burrow was awake and looking exhausted. He hopped down from his perch rather reluctantly and hobbled over with a smooth, glass like conch shell. He limped with as much dignity as he could muster, carrying himself with an air of importance.\n\nI don't describe my mother until this point, because I have a hard time remembering her. I know she was slender. I remember her grey eyes. Her face is a shadow in my memory, and I can never seem to picture it properly. \n\nI could draw Hill from memory though.\nThe orange fox was always the friendliest to me. When I had a bad fever as a toddler, Hill would sleep with me. I remember the wild scent that would come from his fur when I scratched his back. The golden eyes. \n\nHill came to me, seal skin gloves clutched in his mouth.\n\nThe gift giving complete, my father spoke again.\n\n\"Salt of sea, Shell of glass and Gloves of seal. The gifts have been given. Long may he live, with wisdom and love.\" \n\nI donned the gloves, threw a pinch of salt to the wind and clutched the conch firmly.\nNow was when the familiar was supposed to reveal itself. Nothing. Fear gripped me and my stomach turned. Please don't be a fruit fly, please oh-.\n\nA low rumble shook my bones and we were all drenched from a huge spout of seawater. I felt the strangest sensation as if cool water has poured into my head and claimed a small space for itself. My mind became focused on this and I barely heard my father lose composure and swear. Like a thought, but separate from myself a voice came pouring in from no real direction.\n\n\"I am Ocean.\"\n " ]	3
	[WP]You go out for food and when you return you open the door only to meet yourself standing in your living room looking confused back at you. What is happening?	[ "I thought I was hallucinating.\n\nI just left the living room to get me some chips and a cup of coffee from kitchen and as I got back and was about to open the door, I heard rustling inside. The sounds unnerved me, given the fact that the large French windows of the room were open by this time of the day.\n\nSomeone had entered my room!\n\nSetting down my food on the floor, away from the door I carefully opened the door. I was correct, there was someone in my room. The only assurance was that, his back was facing me.\n\n\"Raise your hands and turn around. I am armed. I will be forced to use it\" I lied to him.\nThen it happened.\n\nThe man turned around and I thought the floor below me gave way.\n\nStanding in the living room, in front of me, was no one but me. Yes, my exact copy wearing the same clothes and hair style as I was. This \"copy\" looked confused at first but then he smiled and came towards me.\n\n\"Thank goodness! You are here\" He said.\n\nI couldn't utter a single sentence.\n\n\"John is looking for you everywhere. We thought you would be here. But refused to believe so. But you indeed were\" He smiled.\n\nThis was the first time, I found my voice back. \"Wait\" I said \"Who are you?\"\n\nMy copy gave me a confused look, \"I don't understand\" He said, \"You don't know me?\"\n\nI spoke nothing. I mean, I knew him, he was me. No..no..he was just a copy. JUST, a copy. In these thoughts too, I doubted myself.\n\n\"Well\" The copy was speaking again, \"Seems like the rain got you.\"\n\nRain? What rain?\n\n\"Let us try the Automatic Recollection Process.\" The copy continued, \"Whatever I will say, you repeat with affirmative\"\n\nWait..\n\nHe wasn't going to. \"First try,\" He said \"You are an android. Your name is LM-90. I made your facial reflections like me to stimulate a perfect humanoid function.\"\n\nThis sent a chill down my spine.\n\n\"Are you insane?\" I asked \"I am no robot! I am a human! A human made of flesh and bone.\"\n\nMy copy's face grew grim, \"Starting the Manual Recollection Process\" Saying so he pulled out a remote from his pocket and clicked a button. In a flash, my fingers joined together to make a sharp drill.\n\"See?\" He asked.\n\nMy heart beat faster. This wasn't happening. \"You are wrong! I know you are fooling me!\" I cried.\n\nHis eyes grew dark, \"All recollection processes failed. Initiating the Red Button\"\n\nRed Button? I shuddered. I knew what was \"Red Button\". I read it in a science journal. An automatic program which terminates the whole system of an AI. My instincts made my hair stand on the end. It told me to run.\nI did so, jumping out from the French window, I ran as fast as I could. Not seeing where I was going.\n\nAs the sun began to set, I sat down in an isolated space near the town's lake.\nI wasn't a robot, I reminded myself. Or was I?\n\nTo verify, I picked up a sharp stone laying in front of me and slammed it on my leg as hard as I can.\nNo blood.\nInstead, a hole formed from which various wires came out.\n\nI tried to cry, no tears came.\n\nThen I heard a rustling from behind.\n\n\"Found you\" My copy said from behind me, a faint click was heard from his remote.\n\nThen, everything went black." ]	1
Somewhat inspired by The Catcher in the Rye :)	[WP] You're a curious duck that decides to stay in NYC during the winter time instead of flying with the flock	[ "Dear diary,\nDay 12.It's getting colder. The hoomans are putting on these giant pieces of feathers. One of them looked like cousin Tim fit right in there? I don't know. I also don't know how much longer I can handle this. Every so often there is this white, slow rain. When it comes, it makes everything it lands on white. Not sure what it is. Write soon,\nMallard\n\nDear diary,\nDay 13. I'm starting to slowly get a grip of this 'walking on ice' thing. All the ponds are frozen over with this slippery stuff; ice. Hoomans keep pointing and laughing. Asking if I'm a retard who couldn't fly with the pack. Food is running low, the bird ladies aren't throwing seeds anymore. Too cold for them. Too cold for me? Write soon,\nMallard", "Cold snowflakes landed on my head and covered my feathers. I tried to back deeper into the corner made by a stone planter and the bottom of the stoop of an aging brownstone. Trying to keep from freezing in the chilly evening was difficult. I badly wanted to enjoy the sight of the winter sun kissing the horizon in brilliant red and orange hues behind the darkened buildings but no matter how I tried to position my body over my feet, I could feel their thin webbing freeze on the cold concrete under me. All I want to do is tuck my bill into my wing and go to sleep. I imagine the rest of my flock is enjoying a game of hide and seek in the tall bunches of green tule grass on the warm flat waters of our winter lake home in California. \n\n\nIn the early fall of '99, an elderly blue-winged kestrel with a rapid killy-klee-klee, chittered to me the story of The Great Winter Spruce. \"When all the turkeys cry in fright, upon a cold November night, grows the tree that shines so bright.\" He described how in the middle of November sprouts a giant Norway. It slumbers tall and proud for about two weeks and then one evening awakes in sparkling lights crowned with a glittering crystal star. It sounds like a fantastical story but even the Monk Parrots insist the old bird's story is true. The parrots chirp to their children about some harrowing escape of their grandparents from a giant crate so they do love fanciful tales. The other mallards and I aren't sure of those but if I stayed I could see to the old kestrel's prevarications\n \n\nMy friends and family laughed at me and then grew concerned when I decided, rather adamantly, to remain this winter. They begged and pleaded with me to come but when the snows came and covered all the forage they had to fly off without me. I stayed behind to see such a glorious tree and how it could suddenly appear. I am beginning to regret my decision.\n\n\n***\n\n\nA young boy bounced down the steps of his home, landing at the very bottom one to adjust the buckle on his new boots. That's when he noticed a stiff mound of feathers dusted with snow. Reaching for it he found a very stiff and cold young mallard duck. It wasn't moving but as he pulled it out he felt it quiver, just a little. The young boy's grandfather appeared so he quickly slipped the bird under his warm jacket and the two set off for Midtown Manhattan. This was going to be the boy's first lighting ceremony. \n" ]	2
	[WP] Write a story that follows a new character with each interaction, ending with the original character.	[ "\"Another stupid day\", thought Matt as he entered the old building. Matt felt like high school sucked, his parents sucked, and the world was just depressing. That is, until he saw Lena. Lena was everything the world wasn't. She was kind, she was generous, and she was beautiful. Matt saw her standing with the popular group just outside of the chemistry lab. Today was the day, he was finally going to talk to Lena. He walked up, tried his best to stand tall despite his small, skinny frame, and cleared his throat. \n\nShe watched him walk up, the conversation in her group going from a level of happy hum to a deserted din. \"This is ridiculous\", she thought to herself. She was sick and tired of these nerdy boys constantly interrupting her social time between classes. \"Let's go girls\", she said with a level of arrogance that only the mean girls in high school can muster. She quickly walked off, followed by her group, and left the lonely guy standing pathetically where her group had just been. \"Get out of my way\", she demanded of a group of freshman, pushing the smallest to the floor in irritation.\n\n\"Not again\", thought Billy as his books flew across the floor, and he fell face first behind them. Rachel was the leader of the mean girls, and it seemed at least once a week he was the brunt of her aggression. He slowly began collecting his things, and standing up when Mrs. Harper stopped to help.\n\n\"Again, Billy?\", she sighed. \"I know, we've talked about this. I really wish you would press charges against her. It's not just in your best interest, but it is in the best interest of everyone she bullies\". It was apparent that Billy was not in the mood for her lecture today. He quickly gathered his things and ran off, barely muttering a \"thank you\", as he went. Mrs. Harper took a deep breath and walked into her class, it was going to be a long day.\n\n\"Quiet Mrs. Harper is here\", muttered Chris. He had just watched her take a deep breath before coming into the classroom, that was never a good sign. To top it all off, he was on his last warning before expulsion, and he didn't need a stupid viral video to get him expelled because Mrs. Harper was having a bad day. Though, the more he thought about it, the more he thought what a great idea it was. How great would it be to get his girlfriend, Ruth, to do their own version of the video. He spent the rest of the day planning in his mind how he would get Ruth to go along with his great idea to make his own viral video. \n\n\"Great, I wonder what he's so excited about now\", thought Ruth. Every few weeks Chris would come up with some hare-brained scheme that inevitably would get someone in trouble. Last week was Ruth's first time being blamed, and she was still angry with him about it. She looked at her phone again, he'd sent one long text detailing the plan. She wasn't even sure if she wanted to read it. I mean, she had to admit that his ideas were always fun. Everyone always had a great time, and no one ever got hurt. She called Ben to see if him and Becky would go along. \"If nothing else that's two more people that could be held responsible if things go wrong\", she thought.\n\nBecky and Ben couldn't stop laughing. Maybe it was the booze, maybe it was the weed, or maybe it was Chris' idea. Becky and Ben re-read the email and laid down in another fit of giggles. Ben looked over at Becky who was on the floor rolling around. \"Hey Becky, say cheese!\", he yelled as he quickly snapped a photo. Becky watched over his shoulder as he posted it to Instagram, captioning it \"literally ROFL\". Then they both fell over and kept laughing. They couldn't wait to tell Joeleane the plan.\n\n\"Do you really think this is a good idea?\", Joeleane asked in disbelief. It was one of Chris' dumbest ideas ever. \"Who wants a viral video, anyway?\", she thought to herself. The worst part is they were putting her up as the fall guy. If things went wrong, she is the one who would be expelled!! They all knew the school rules, yet they chose to disregard them recklessly. However, the more she thought about it, the more fun it did seem. Plus, who could get hurt? \"I'm in, and I'll bring Lena\", she said quickly as she quickly hung up.\n\nLena was having so much fun, she couldn't believe it. She never expected to be accepted in with the popular kids, but Joeleane had made it so easy for her. She owed Joeleane so much, and was so grateful, she even offered to be in the video and do the big dangerous stunt. She took a deep breath, stepped over to the edge of the rock, pulled off her top and jumped. As she was falling into the pool, screaming with delight, she saw someone running towards the pool in fear. \"What the hell?\", she thought as she hit the water.\n\nMatt was in shock. How could Lena do something so reckless, so dangerous, and.... wow, she was really as beautiful as he imagined. As he realized she was going to jump he started running towards the pool, ready to jump in and save her. A few of the other kids tried to stop him, but he pushed through, and jumped into the pool. Lena's face underwater was beautiful at first but changed quickly to a look of horror and fear which scared Matt into action. He grabbed her and tried to swim towards the surface, but quickly found himself fading and sinking. He didn't understand why no one else would reach in and help. They were drowning, him and Lena, and no one would help! What was wrong with everyone? He looked to Lena for motivation but she was blurry in his eyes and limp in his arms. \n\nWhen Matt finally opened his eyes, Mrs. Harper was standing over him with the sternest look he'd ever seen. He tried to explain, but could only spit out water. He quickly looked around to find Lena, but found himself in the computer lab, rather than the nurses office. More bubbles and water escaped as he tried to talk again. \"Just stop, Matt. We'll get you a new vocal chip and extra RAM in just a minute.\" Matt lay back confused, trying to process what he heard when he heard Mrs. Harper spoke again, more quietly, to someone else in the room. \"I can't help but think of that poor girl.\" The other person responded, \"Well, at least she died quick. Matt would've electrified the water as soon as he jumped in, she probably didn't even realize what happened. Hell, imagine how I feel.\" Matt could hear the rage in Mrs. Harper's hissed reply, \"What do you mean how you feel?!? A girl is dead, Scott!\". Matt listened as his principal, Scott Wallace, responded coldly, \"now we have to reprogram the bot, wipes its memory again, and pay off the dead girl's parents! That's the 3rd time now! The RAI association is going to be pissed as all hell when I ask for more money. Not to mention wiping the memory of the kids who witnessed it this time!\" Matt sat silently thinking about what was hearing as the two continued their hushed argument. He kept thinking about what it all meant until things got fuzzy and he couldn't think anymore.\n\n\"Another stupid day\", thought Matt as he entered the old building. Matt felt like high school sucked, his parents sucked, and the world was just depressing. That is, until he saw Candy. Candy was everything the world wasn't. She was kind, she was generous, and she was beautiful." ]	1
	[WP] Troops marching through Europe during WWII come across the old cabin from Hansel and Gretel lore.	[ "\"If you do not say your prayers, a witch will eat you up.\" his grandmother used to say. \n\nHe wondered if she was still alive. It was difficult to imagine her, sitting in her lonely apartment in Berlin. He stared across the barren, winter landscape and wondered if her face was the same colour as the pallid sky, filled with orange smoke from dead mortars and the pale sunlight from filtered clouds. \n\nHe trudged on, trying to ignore the gnawing pit inside his gut as he headed towards the house. \n\nIt stood somewhere ahead of him on a small hill, surrounded by dead trees. There was a strange, artificial light to it, as if it was being lit by the cheery yellow bulbs of a confectionary. His stomach growled as he staggered on, shedding his empty pack. When was the last time he'd eaten? Was it before he had reached Stalingrad? The river had been frozen over and he was so tempted to make a run for it, to just brave the gunfire from either side for anything to quench that inescapable pit. \n\nBut he'd been a coward and ran some other way when the time came. The other men disappeared somewhere. The path grew thick and wild with forgotten, gnarled trees. \n\nHe saw a little house at the top of the hill, made of franzbrötchen and donauwelle, just like his grandmother had used to make. The old fashioned way, kneading away with her hands. \n\n\"Fetch me more cherries,\" she'd say, \"Stir this bowl for me, would you, my bärchen.\" \n\nHis grandmother must have been working away for a long time to make as much candy as this. His father would be very displeased, military man that he was. His children were not allowed to eat sweets, he'd say, because such indulgences bred indolence. \n\nHe neared the house and pinched a piece of cake from the roof. He ate. He wasn't full. He ate some more. A gnawing hunger remained. He stepped through the door and felt something wash over him. He knew, suddenly, what to do. \n\nHe waited a whole day before a bony, stumbling soldier came to the door. He was already sharpening the butcher's knives he'd found in the kitchen. He sized up the man, hungrily. \n\n\"I know how to use an oven, grandmother...\"!" ]	1
	[WP] In the future, anyone who escapes prison is absconded of all charges. You're dead set on breaking out of Guantanamo Bay.	[ "I've been here five years. Much longer than anticipated. But that time has given me all the information necessary. The locks they use I had not seen before, but that was overcome by a bit of luck. Thin strips of aluminum, stolen from a guards soda can, glued together to form the thickness of a key. Inserted into a lock, you could twist and turn it, leaving marks which would be filed down until the key worked. Then with additional filing and some trial and error, the master key was determined. But there were the cameras in the hall. I couldn't bypass those so I had to get creative. From conversations between the guards, it took 3 minutes of walking to get from the front entrance to the \"Beat down room\", as I called it, but only 45 sec from the back fence. As a bonus, due to the nature of what went down in that room, there were no cameras and it seemed to be completely sound proof. Though policy dictated that at least 3 armed guards were there at all times.\n\nInteractions with other prisoners were scarce, so I had to fashion a weapon on my own. I wasn't able to procure more aluminum so I had to make do with a rusty screw I took out of the a bookshelf in the library. The only time we'd get to visit it was when the place was being inspected. I was never caught for that, but it sounded like someone else had taken the blame. I just had to wait until the right moment.\n\nI almost missed it when the moment came. I was being taken for exercise when someone decided to hit a guard as they were being taken from their cell. The guards didn't even bother taking him to the beat down room, they just piled into his cell and started it there. I waited until I was taken away from my cell and started struggling. \n\n\"You fucking jackoff! If I ever get out, I'll fuck your mothe-\" the wind got knocked out of me as the guard slammed me into the wall. I saw stars as he slammed his hand into the back of my head. \n\n\"Oh you just fucked up now.\" He whispered in my ear. I was being dragged towards the very place I wanted to go. He spoke into the radio, \"I need support in room B-8 asap\". \n\n\"Copy that, when where done with prisoner 7552 we'll be right over\". I had to act, I couldn't wait for backup. The control office buzzed us into the room and he dragged me inside, to tie me to a chair while waiting for the rest. I was shoved onto the seat and as soon as one cuff was off, before it could reattached to the chair, I stood up and shoved myself backwards. \"Fuck!\" I heard him exclaim as he lost balance. He fell backwards and hit the ground as I landed on top of him. I snapped my head back, feeling the soft impact of his nose against my skull. I rolled away and grabbed the screw out of my... well, it'll leave me uncomfortably shitting for a while. I jammed it into his eye as his hands started to close around my throat. I dug my thumb into his other one. One of my legs behind his, and a hard shove to his chest put his back on the ground screaming in agony. One stomp on his throat cut that short. I quickly changed clothes, he was much larger due to my lack of food but it would do from a distance. I calmed myself down and walked out the door. \n\nI didn't know the layout well, as we often had bags over our heads, but I knew the hallway where guards would come when called from the back, and it had just a single door at the end. I briskly walked towards it. \n\n\"Greg, have you left the prisoner by himself?\" I knew center control would notice the strange behavior. I grabbed the radio and spoke in a very quiet whisper. \n\n\"Matthew showed up to take over while I take a leak.\"\n\n\"Can't hear you. Is your volume low?\"\n\nI reached the door and turned halfway towards the camera, keeping my face concealed. I pantomimed taking a piss. There was the longest pause of my life and finally the door buzzed open. I gave a thumbs up and walked through it. The rain hit my face. Even better, I thought to myself. I just had to make it to the door at the back of the gate. I walked quickly, with purpose, towards it, hoping the other guards wouldn't notice me in the poor weather. I bent down slightly and took my handmade key out, wincing as the previous item left some cuts. I had it in the lock when a spot light turned on me. \n\n\"Guard, stop! Return to the main building and explain yourself immediately\" The key wouldn't turn. I jiggled it furiously and heard the door behind me into the building open. I jiggled it more; there was more shouting and footsteps getting louder. Finally, the lock turned and I was through. A hand grabbed my shoulder, I twisted pulled their arm and slammed the door on it hearing a loud crack and cry of pain. I started running. There was a second fence and I stripped of my orange uniform and threw it over the barbed wire. Jumping up and climbing over, the clothes gave hardly any protection but there didn't seem to be enough blood to leave a trail. I quickly headed for the forest, hoping to get lost before the dogs came after me. Seeing a stream, I followed it north. \n\nThe next couple days were fearful and painful. No food or clothes, I eventually stumbled into a town as was able to steal clothes and provisions. Not knowing Spanish, I kept away from the general population for fear they would rat me out. This went on for 2 years. It would have been 30 days, but if violence was used then the statute of limitations extended for 2 years. After two years of loneliness and petty thievery, I walked into a government building and declared that I was an American citizen, escaped from Guantanamo, and had the right to be transported back to my home in the states. I was led into a room with a desk to fill out paper work. I smiled and started.\n\nI must have fell asleep because next thing I knew, I woke up being handcuffed by American military. \n\n\"I escaped for 2 years, you have no right to arrest me!\" I protested. One of them smiled. \n\n\"That would be true if you were on American soil. While the prison is American territory, you escaped into another country, meaning not only did you not spend 2 years on U.S. soil you trespassed into another country as an illegal immigrant.\" A hard blow to my head knocked me out. The last thing I heard before losing consciousness was \"Welcome back\"." ]	1
	[WP] Punk is dead. All other genres of music come together for the funeral.	[ "It was, appropriately, anarchy. It only took four words for everything to collapse and become chaos.\n\nAll the genres crowded into the procession. They looked at Punk's scarred face, the band pins and patches all over its funeral garb. Alternative rock looked at all the bands and declared \"Green Day isn't punk!\"\n\nThen chaos", "Rock places a single rose onto the casket, sniffs, then steps back in line.\n\nGospel: \"Dearly Beloved, we are gathered here today to pay our respects to Punk. He will be sorely missed. Would anyone like to say a word?\"\n\nMetal: \"Punk, you were like my little brother. The one I loved to wrestle with. I remember when I dislocated your elbow. Fun times...\"\n\nGregorian Chanting: \"I think a good chant would be in place here. Allow me to -\"\n\nGrunge (hurriedly): \"You were like my better half. Except that your lyrics were weak and your drum line too prominent.\"\n\nElectro: \"Now, now. We can't blame him for that. It was his upbringing. It wasn't easy being a white middle-class kid in the nineties.\"\n\nRock: \\Loud sniff\\\n\nNew-Age (barefoot, as always): \"Let us give thanks to nature for the time that we were given with Punk.\" Reaches out to form a circle. Steps back after ten seconds, slightly red-faced.\n\nHip Hip: \"Punk was never really my nigger, you knows, but I respected him. He got dem hoes anyways. Dem skinny, pale white one with them black chokers that Metal is always fawning over.\"\n\nMetal: Cough.\n\nGospel: \"Does anybody here have something relevant to say?\"\n\nPop: \"He was an inspiration. I confess that I went through a punk phase myself.\"\n\nMetal (whispering): \"Uh, god, yes. I had almost forgotten that. Thanks for reminding me.\"\n\nPop: \"What? It was pretty fly back in the day.\"\n\nRock: Sniff.\n\nClassical: \"Ich möchte darauf hinweisen, dass meine Bekanntschaft mit Punk von mir gut geschätzt wurde.\"\n\nElectro: \"What?\"\n\nTrance (bobbing his head): \"She said she liked him.\"\n\nElectro: \"Ah.\"\n\nGregorian: \"Shall I-\"\n\nCountry (Brusquely): \"I'll miss him like the rain after a seven year drought.\"\n\nMetal: \"Oh please, you didn't even bother to visit his birthdays anymore.\"\n\nJazz (Fiddling with a trumpet): \"Still, he will be missed.\"\n\nGregorian: \"I suppose I can-\"\n\nBlues: \"I hate funerals. They make me feel so-\"\n\nMetal: \"Blue?\"\n\nBlues: \"I was going to say sad.\"\n\nRock: \"Sob\"\n\nHip Hop: \"Yo, is this party going to last much longer? I have places to be. Gangers to bang. Hoes to-\"\n\nGospel: \"That will be enough, Hip Hop. Thank you.\"\n\nHip Hop: \"I'm just saying. Some of us have other engagements.\"\n\nElectro: Nodding\n\nJazz: Nodding\n\nTrance: Nodding\n\nMetal: \"I hate funerals anyways.\"\n\nNew-Age: \"You hate everything...\"\n\nBlues: \"I've got an award ceremony I have to prepare for tonight.\"\n\nGospel (nodding to undertaker): \"Be at peace, brother.\"\n\nPop (taking out phone): \"My instagram has to be filled with unanswered replies by now.\"\n\nRock: Openly crying\n\nGregorian (looking around and seeing only Rock and he are left): \"All right, a chant it is.\"\n\nRock: Reaching inside his leather jacket and pulling out a glock.\n\nGregorian: \"I - uhh - I think I left the stove on.\"\n\nRock: Silently weeping as the November rain begins to fall.\n", "Country was the first to arrive. He looked at Punk's strangely peaceful body in the casket. \"It ain't fair you died too young,\" he said sadly. \nBlues arrived second, and put a hand on Country's shoulder. \"Like a story that had just begun, but death tore the pages all away,\" Country said, shedding a few tears.\n\"Guess there are times when we all need to share a little pain,\" Blues replied, hugging Country.\nSoft Rock was the next genre to arrive. As soon as he saw the casket, he ran over and threw himself on Punk. He cried and cried, as Country and Blues tried to get him off Punk. \n\"It's gonna take a lot to drag me away from you!\" Soft Rock cried.\nProgressive Rock arrived just in time. He knew Soft Rock was upset, but he also knew Soft Rock hadn't slept since Punk passed away three days ago. He led Soft Rock to his car.\n\"Lay your weary head to rest. Don't you cry no more,\" he told Soft Rock compassionately.\nIndie and New Age came next. Indie never got along with Punk, but felt so upset to see him dead. He immediately began to feel queasy.\n\"Hold on, hold on to me. 'Cause I'm a little unsteady,\" Indie said, grabbing on to New Age's arm. \nOnce Indie got ahold of himself, he decided to say a few kind, final words to Punk. \"Thanks for the memories, even though they weren't so great,\" he said to Punk, shedding a few tears.\nAll of a sudden, Rock showed up. Everyone was horrified. Rock was such a clown, they knew he'd ruin the funeral by making sick jokes. Blues and New Age immediately tried to escort Rock out, but he insisted he had kind words for Punk. They let him go.\nRock sadly approached Punk, and touched his arm. He immediately grinned evilly. \n\"You're as cold as ice!\" Rock laughed.\nNew Age, angrier than ever before, grabbed Rock's arm, and threw him out of the funeral. \n\"Oh! Look what you've done!\" New Age scolded, returning to the grieving genres.\nSince everyone had arrived at the funeral, they all came together to say their final goodbyes, and finally closed the casket, so the world would never get to see Punk ever again.\n\n-\n\"Who You'd Be Today\" by Kenny Chesney\n\"Sad Songs (Say So Much)\" by Elton John\n\"Africa\" by Toto\n\"Carry On Wayward Son\" by Kansas\n\"Unsteady\" by X Ambassadors\n\"Thanks for the Memories\" by Fall Out Boy\n\"Cold as Ice\" by Foreigner\n\"Photograph\" by Def Leppard" ]	3
I'm fond of quote prompts.	[WP] "As long as you hold it true, and as long as you don't let it die out, that light won't let you die either."	[ "She walked amongst the trees. One step at a time, she carried on the path. The wind blew hard, like it always does in the Summerlands. A comfy wool cloak, fleece breeches, leather gauntlets and a scarf made of silk were enough to keep the cold away, though. Mostly.\n\nSo much for that warmth. \n\nSavoring the irony, she pressed on along the trail, following the rocky steps in front of her. The climb had been long, and treacherous besides. Almost all of her party had departed. Big Henry had refused to trespass on the Old Grounds. Horseface George decided 20 crowns wasn't enough to risk his life. Scarlet thought herself clever when she rode off in the night with a week worth of provisions. They double backed two days later, after taking a wrong turn in what looked like Dilayn's Pass, and found Scarlet's ox, exhausted or starved to death. His master had kept going with what little supplies she could carry, and they had found what was left of her five full cycles later.\n\nUpon seeing the cause of death, and after much debate, three more had left the party, leaving Terry without his left arm when he tried to convince them otherwise.\n\nDon't leave me here... he had whispered. Don't let them get me... Please please please...\n\nHe died like the rest, with cold hands and hollow eyes starring at the Above. Yun burned the corpse as best he could so as to not lure more of the beasts, and the climb resumed.\n\nYun and his daughter returned to her, at last. He pushed his Ox a bit faster, she saw. His face told her he wanted to scream. When he got close enough, he whispered.\n\n\"It's right there, behind this slope.\" He said, pointing. \"I saw it, Kayra! It's big, and beautiful, and blinding! Two cycles of climbing at most! We're there!\"\n\nKayra nodded and kept walking. Yun and Alysia followed meekly enough, although she saw that the girl would not survive much more of this forced march. But they had no choice anymore, going back would be folly. \n\nThe cycles went by fast after they climbed the slope. It went by fast after she saw the light. Yun was right. It is blinding. And beautiful. Oddly, the light intensity would not be as blinding the further they would go. Kayra had heard about these tricks of the light before, but she didn't understand it all, it seemed. She had much to see yet. \n\nAnd after two and a half cycles, they stopped in front of a massive stone door, at least 50 meters high and 30 meters wide. To the top of the door, they could catch sight of wide oval openings in the stone, letting the blessed light in. It wasn't high enough to show what lurked in the Above, but Kayra was rather confident that she would live a better life if she stayed ignorant on the topic.\n\nOn the wall besides the stone door was an engraving, carved deep into the stone.\n\n\"As long as you hold it true, and as long as you don't let it die out, that light won't let you die either.\" It said.\n\nKayra sighed. \"Cryptic.\" She pulled away from the engraving and tried to find an hidden mechanism to open the stone door. \n\n\"What do you think this is? A warning for the Dwellers?\" Yun asked. Kayra was about to use her own usual blend of cynicism and snarkiness, when Alysia interjected.\n\n\"I think... I think Grandma Ellie told me about this. But it wasn't so short. She talked about the Stone Men, and how they came here with the Gift of Light. But they couldn't bring it down further. Ellie said the light has her own will, and that no man or woman can tame her. So how do we not let her die?\"\n\nKayra tried to form an answer, but hard as she tried, she found no explanation to ease the little girl's spirits. And so they went, Yun trying to make sense of the stone carving, Kayra pushing random chunks of rocks, and Alysia shuffling between the two. \n\nThey made camp three full cycles later. When they awoke, Yun climbed the door and almost broke his back when he fell. Alysia thought he died and cried when he didn't move, but he came to his senses a few minutes later.\n\nSeveral cycles passed, and their food supplies dwindled. Kayra did not say anything, but Yun knew. When she looked at him, his expression was haunted. He would then look at his daughter and smile the warmest smile she'd ever seen on a haunted face. This was the end, she knew. Carving or no carving, it would be no use against the immense stone door that was blocking their path. The Fallen would soon circle around them and end this madness of an expedition. They had gone too far.\n\nFour cycles after the food supply was depleted, Yun started raving like a madman. \n\n\"We came this far! Nothing can stop me, you miserable door!\" He said before smashing his fist against the door, breaking it. Kayra heard the cry of pain and felt it echo in the halls. She tented his bloodied fist with was she could when he calmed down, but she feared it was only the beginning.\n\nAn unknown number of cycles later, she woke up to Yun strangling his daughter in her sleep. When she tried to stop him, he slapped her so hard it broke her lips. \n\nWhen Alysia awoke and asked about Kayra's bloodied face and her father whereabouts, she explained how the Fallen came creeping during the last cycle and how her father saved both her lives. The child did not even cry. Kayra figured she probably ran out of tears to shed by now.\n\nThey huddled, close to each other in front of the stone door. Awaiting what was to come. Alysia tried singing a song, but she wasn't very good at it. Kayra did not care, though. The warmth was enough. The hope had gone from her just as fast as it went in back in the Deeps.\n\nWhen she thought she was going to fall asleep for good, she felt the rock trembling. She opened her eyes and saw that Alysia was feeling it too. As the shaking increased in intensity, the massive stone door started to open. And then, the light surged. It was so much light that her eyes could not bear it. She closed her eyes at first, and then tried to take a peek between her fingers. That is when she saw the shadows. Shadows with human form. One voice rang in the halls.\n\n\"This has to be it! This is the entra... \" His voice trailed off when he saw both Kayra and Alysia, sitting together on the floor.\n\n\"You told us these caves were abandonned, Pal.\" another voice explaimed.\n\n\"I said, that according to records, the caves have been sealed off shut for at least four hundred years.\" The one called Pal retorted.\n\n\"Well... it does looks like your records had some facts missing.\"\n\nThey kept going back and forth until they reached a consensus, approached her and Alysia and brought them out of the Deeps.", "The two of them looked at each other for a long while. She then stared at the torch she was being handed, the burning flame being the only sense of comfort they would have left in this godforsaken hell. As much as she wanted to take it and hold it close again just to get that sense of safety one more time, she knew that once she did, he'd die. \n\nAfter all, being pinned to a wall by spikes that hit just about every vital area on your upper body and shattering the bones in your legs isn't exactly something you can walk away from with anything short of a miracle. That is, if you can even find a way to walk after that.\n\nShe was doing everything in her power to avoid breaking out into tears right there, but she could never quite keep it all in. She so desperately wanted this torch to set him free from the horrible trap he'd been victim to, just make it like it never happened, but every time she assured herself that she'd just hallucinated and it wasn't real, she'd have to open her eyes to see it again. The wall, freshly coated in red, drops still slithering down along the cracks and grooves. \n\n\"Please... you have to keep going. I know you can make it. I... I know you will,\" he said, through all his strength and clenched teeth, managing to speak calmly to keep her from getting any more worked up than she already was. He continued to hold the torch out to her, silently begging her to take it away from him. \n\nThe torch provided strength, dulled the pain, and protected against death itself as long as you held it. \n\nAs long as it burned. \n\nAs long as you trusted it.\n\n...\n\nThere was another pause inhabited by nothing but silence. Her head was hung low and she was struggling to reach out for the torch. The belief that she could still somehow save him was faded away, and it was about time she accepted that she had to continue on alone. If she continued to sit around hoping for divine intervention, she'd be waiting for the touch of death itself. This was reality, and it truly wasn't fair.\n\nNot that it was ever fair in the first place.\n\nShe took a deep breath--or at least the closest thing to a deep breath you can take when you're hardly in control of your breathing--and begrudgingly held out her hand to the torch.\n\nThe torch. \n\nWith its soft, detailed painting swirling around the handle and the stainless shine of the alloy clutching the deep crimson jewel that held the heart of the magic, it was the one barrier shielding their sanity and pushing them forward through an otherwise hopeless void of pure darkness and relentless force. When it's wielded by someone with true faith in themselves, it burned bright, and not even the coldest wind could extinguish its eternal blaze.\n\nFor a moment, they were both holding it, each with one hand clutching onto it as their life depended on it, and the flame burned that much brighter. However, the beauty of the moment was too much of a delicacy to last, as his grip loosened, and the light softened down to match. And then came the moment that only one hand remained on the torch, saddened and shaking, now being alone in the depths of what seemed like an endless labyrinth of nothing but emptiness in the void.\n\nIn only a few moments, the light shined softer and softer, until it was nothing more than a candle being held in pitch black. As far as she could tell, the wall wasn't even lit up anymore, let alone even there, so neither was he, despite the fact he already left her once. The growing darkness made the sound of her despair seem that much louder, and when it's all you have available to listen to, it really takes a toll on one's spirit.\n\nThe light stayed dim for what seemed like an eternity. Nothing happened, and nothing was going to happen, it seemed. However, soon there then came a point where the crying ceased and was instead replaced with more familiar silence, as if it hadn't overstayed its welcome already. As with the dim light, the silence decided to stick around for a while as well, feeding on the distraught character as they stood, now alone.\n\nThen... she took one deep, uninterrupted breath that swept away the silence, and held her head up, tears still welling up in the corner of her eyes. This time, though, she was looking ahead and holding the torch out in front of her. In response to her determination, it flared and burned brighter than ever. For the sake of everyone who died down here, she was going to get through, and make sure that they don't die forgotten by time, but rather remembered through legend. This light she held before her was the one friend she had left, and it was relying on her to live. The least she could do was return the favor. And so she stepped off.\n\nInto what used to be darkness.", "I jerk awake, my head lifting from the train's window pane. The train had stopped temporarily at a stop I wasn't privy too, and it was hard to make out the signs outside as it was dark. Evening had fallen. I groggily glance at my watch to check the time. \n\n20:56.\n\nManchester was still more than a half hour away. I stretch, as a heavy yawn escapes my mouth. My eyes tear up in response. I didn't know I was this tired. I cast my mind back to the dream I was having. My Nan and I having what would be the last conversation between us before the world changed. \n\n\"As long as you hold it true, and as long as you don't let it out, that light won't let you die either.\", She had said to me, before my dad ushered me out of her home, all smiles and laughter. \n\nShe had passed away in her sleep that night and what had followed were weeks of tears and months of depression as my favourite person in the world was now no more and the world seemed ever darker for it. \n\nMonths had gone by before we all got called into a family meeting and told that it was time to share her belongings according to her will. I was 12 then. My only knowledge of will-sharing came from the movies that Hollywood had doled out, which in my mind translated to either copius amounts of money or a land or a house. I assumed my Dad would get some mansion in the England country and we'd all move away from London. \n\nChildish dreams and all. \n\nIt was simpler than that however. My Dad did get some money from Nan and my mum got all her jewelry. I, on the other hand, as her only pumpkin, was given a chest with sole ownership of all that was within it. \n\nThe chest held few items of interest, if I'm being honest with you. It held a bag of sweets, some biscuits, some toys I had most definitely grown out of and a little small 4x4 box, with specific instructions to not open it until I was alone. \n\nI remember spending the rest of the afternoon eating sweets and playing with the toys absentmindedly, before chucking them into one of the drawers I use to keep old things, leaving me with nothing else but the box. \n\nI remember closing the doors and windows of my room, before sitting with my duvet over my head. I returned my attention to the little box and proceeded to open it. I was 12 then. But even so, my Nan's words to me were as clear as if she had whispered them to me at the moment of me opening the small box. \n\n\"As long as you hold it true, and as long as you don't let it out, that light won't let you die either.\", She had said to me.\n\nThat was years ago. 80, if my maths is right but it's been a long time, considering. My memory is not as good as it used to be, but that is one memory that returns to me each time. \n\nStill. I guess my time is up. I have lived and enjoyed but it's been for longer than I should have. Pa and Ma have passed on. My lovely Jeanette has followed suit. It is time I did the same. I have lost enough already and with the way the cancer is spreading through Timothy's lungs, I reckon it would be devastating to see him go before me. \n\nI feel my frail hands dip into my left jacket pocket, carressing a small mahogany box, before bringing it out to check the time again. \n\n21:34\n\nAlmost at Manchester. Maybe I can finally tell Tim about the light. Maybe. \n\n---\n\nFor some downright mediocrity to help you pass away time, /r/EvenAsIWrite", "«As long as you hold it true, and don’t let it die out, that light won’t let you die out either. » \n\n\nI was thirteen years old when my father entrusted my light to me. He explained that he had kept it going since my birth, and let me into the secret room to show me his light. Next to it, on a beautiful candelabra, stood the candles that had belonged to my mother and her parents before her. \n\n\nMy candle was a deep blue with a dancing gold pattern inlaid down the length, the wick burning slowly. A carved chest contained several more candles of the same type, and a recipe for creating more. I had everything I needed to live a long and happy life, father told me, I just needed to take care of it.\n\n\nSo I did.\n\n\nI placed my candle in a glass house, a slim and long glass structure that protected it from gusts of winds that threatened, with openings at the very top for the hot air to escape and fresh air to enter. Every morning I carefully cleaned the glass, making sure that no amount of soot built up and polluted the air my light breathed. Every night I watched the small fire, my eyes staring into the light that contained my life. \n\n\nFrom the first day, I went out and bought the ingredients needed to create another candle. Most were common; soy wax and bees wax combined, a little purple dye and thin golden threads. More challenging was the herb used to scent it, the ashwagandha, and the form to shape it. Father explained that as I had taken over responsibility, he could not give me what he had. I had to make it myself.\n\n\nI visited green houses and alternative apothecaries until I found the herb and begged until they allowed me to work for it. For days, I dragged boxes, swept floors and did inventory. Despite the searching and the hours, getting the herb was easy compared to creating the candle shaper.\n\n\nMy light burned steadily through the candles my father had given me, keeping me alive as I ensured that its surroundings were perfect, that no draft bothered it and that the glass house was sturdy. As I went to school and did chores and used every spare moment to work as an apprentice for a blacksmith. Blisters rose on my fingers as I practiced the craft that allowed me to, at last, engrave the needed pattern into the metal casing. \n\n\nHalf a year, and most of the summer holidays, had passed before I could proudly show my father my first completed candle. He inspected it in detail, spectacles on his nose and candle held so close to his eyes that they looked in two different directions to take in all of it. Then he smiled.\n\n\n“Let us try it,” he said and handed it back to me. \n\n\nI whooped with joy and almost sprinted up the stairs to my room, relief and pride filling with chest and gradually giving way to joy. I had done it. All those hours, and all that work, and I had made my first candle. More work lay ahead, but now I knew I could.\n\n\nThen I opened the door and my world fell apart. \n\n\nThe light was out.\n\n\nThe candle was dark.\n\n\nI screamed in terror and threw myself towards it, clutching a pack of matches as if they were the only thing that could save me. I hoped they could.\n\n\n“No no nonono no, it can’t be too late. Just, light it up, right? Please please please.” Tears streamed down my face as I pleaded with the candle, my hands shaking as I brought the match to the wick and tried to light it. Nothing happened. The light was out and it would not catch again.\n\n\nThe strength went out of my body and I sank onto the floor, sobbing, as my father entered the room. His slow, heavy steps moved towards me and he sat down next to me, cradling me in his arms.\n\n\n“It’s okay, son. You are not dying,” he said, his voice deep and calming, as he pulled me into a sitting position. His big hand patted my head and brushed tears away from my eyes. \n\n\n“But… but the l-light.” I couldn’t stop the sobs, the fear and sorrow making my voice high-pitched and unsteady. \n\n\n“It’s fake. I lied.” He delivered the words with no remorse, only a steady confirmation. “The light is pure superstition and has nothing to do with whether you live or die.”\n\n\n“I…” I manage to stifle the sobs and straighten my back a little, confusion replacing the terror that had numbed me. Perhaps my father was trying to comfort me, but I was alive even though the light was out. “…Why?” \n\n\n“Because what I said is true.” He moved back a little so that he could look me into the eyes. “You have everything you need for a long life ahead of you, all you have to do is take care of it.”\n\n\n“I don’t understand.” I looked towards the glass house again, at the chest with the waiting candles, at the candle shaper and the ingredient list. Fear still clutched my heart. “Is it true or isn’t it?”\n\n\n“The light was an exercise.” My father stood up and moved towards it. He pointed at the herb I had worked to acquire and the candle shaper I had made by apprenticing. “Look at what you have done, because you believed your life depended on it.” \n\n\n“But… if that’s not true, if it didn’t matter…” I got myself shakily to me feet and moved towards the bench the candle stood on. I recalled all the hours and the effort I had spent to collect it all.\n\n\n“The truth is, most things you can do to improve your health and your life, will not be as tangible as this. The ingredients are not as easy to obtain and there will never be a finished product, but the effort needed is the same.” \n\n\nI followed his words, but didn't really understand. My breath was still ragged and my head hurt after thinking I was dying and then being told my father had fooled me so completely. \n\n\nHe turned towards me and put a hand on my shoulder. “You are old enough now to make your own choices for what you eat and how you live, and those choices do shape your life. If you are as determined to take care of yourself as you have been to take care of this candle, you will live a long and happy life.”\n" ]	4
The Earth and other less developed planets are monitored by a more advanced alien species, or coalition of many of them, to guide developing life toward not royally fucking up the universe and attempts to help them avoid common pitfalls and past mistakes others species' have made. Humanity is one of these developing species, relatively new to sentience. They noticed our rapid development thousands of years ago: however, due to the time it takes light/information to travel, our development is progressing frighteningly quickly compared to when they noticed signs of the change and how long it will take them or their message to arrive in any meaningful sense. They sent a message/contact team as soon as they noticed, those thousands of years ago, and are arriving.	[WP] "Oh man, they're learning." - the extraterrestrial species monitoring Earth	[ "First contact was made outside of Cairo, and made many historians feel very silly: A logical consequence of watching alien ships land on \"man made\" pyramids. They came in peace, but brought neither technology nor medicine. Indeed, they barely even brought themselves, with their first delegation consisting of no more than seven individuals. Humanity had developed faster than predicted, and that threw a wrench into Galactic Federation procedure. When they checked in on us, they expected a species still struggling to till dirt correctly. What they got instead was a group of lunatics who slapped ion thrusters on comets to race them around the Solar System at 75% c.\n\nAs it turns out, when you evolve from monkeys, you've gotta be really smart, mostly to make up for the intrinsic disadvantage of being a monkey. That's not a common thing in the universe. All the other smart species? They're consistently smart. They do their math, publish their work, then wait for a dumber species to do something innovative with it. \n\nWe? We are the dumb species. We're our own guinea pigs, and that's immensely convenient. Do you know how long it takes aliens to learn anything? Between short attention spans, language barriers, differences in thinking processes, diffusion of information takes forever. Between the Aturans figuring out the math of how to instantly transfer information from point to point, and the Felv'ir constructing a device to do so, lay a period of over three centuries. In those same three centuries, humanity went from an agricultural society to an interplanetary one. \n\nSmart species make informed decisions. Dumb species take risks. Humans are the only ones in the galaxy with the intrinsic ability to take informed risks, and that puts us way ahead of the bell curve. \n\nThe Federation said that they had wanted to steer us away from the follies which had buried so many other fledgling civilizations. During first contact, our delegation read that list, and replied with awe and earnest thanks.\n\nIn the back room, they said: \"Yeah, I mean... these are all pretty obvious. Frankly, I think we've got most of them sorted. I want to say that. Is there a polite way to say that?\"\n\nWe devoured Galactic science like it was the tastiest fruit pie ever baked. Even from the seven in the Federation's initial delegation, we got decades of progress. To them, it seemed like centuries. They said watching us work was like watching time compress to accommodate our minds. Very flattering, for a developing species. More ships came, travelling at light speed from the nearest Stargate, and we began to integrate into the Federation. \n\nUsually, several thousand years pad the time between first contact and full membership. Humanity got it in two centuries. We did it so fast, in fact, that we were the only species in the entire history of the Federation to build its home system Stargate entirely on its own. We read papers dating back thousands of years, and we did experiments, and, in two hundred years, we had caught up to the rest of the Galaxy.\n\nHumanity grows to fit any space it's given. This is borderline fact. We are a gas, and when given the universe, we will fill the universe. If the speed of light begrudges us this, we will break the speed of light. Really, it was easy. All we had to do was understand Aturan math. \n\nWell, maybe we had to do a bit more than that.\n\nMaybe we had to nudge their science in a direction more in line with our interests. Maybe we had to plant ideas in their heads. Maybe we had to subtly use them as living calculators, taking advantage of their ability to rigorously prove or disprove anything put in front of them. Maybe that had to happen.\n\nBut now, five hundred years after first contact, we've solved the oldest question in the book. Harmless instantaneous travel between any two points in the universe? Easy like Sunday morning. \n\nIf Sunday morning needed a couple of suns worth of energy.\n\nMaybe it's more of a Monday morning thing.\n\nIt comes to our attention now, however, that there's a question we missed, a question even older than that of faster than light travel. A question every sentient species asks when it crawls out from the hazy muck of pre-consciousness. \n\nWhy are we here?\n\nAll across the universe, human jumper ships visit never-before-seen worlds and speak to their never-before-encountered cultures. We collect their religions, and their philosophy. On the homefront, we bore holes into alternate realities, those liminal spaces outside our perception which make our jumps possible. The One True Religion is coming, maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, and maybe not in a hundred years. But when it comes, it will be borne by human ingenuity. \n\nAs we gather documents and give grants to xeno-culturalists, that same Galactic Federation which presumed to know best for us those centuries ago lets out a collective groan, and prepares to destroy its churches.\n\n\"Oh, man,\" the aliens say. \"They're learning.\"" ]	1
Take it any way you wish	[WP] A silent film star must act in her first sound movie	[ "This was supposed to be easy. Look handsome, prance around a few sets in different costumes and go home at the end of the day to do it all over again for another few weeks until production wrapped up. A really simple gig. I mean it was, until a few minutes ago when my manager came into my dressing room with career changing news. \n\n\"Bobby! They've done it! They finally added sound! The world can hear your voice from now until forever! We're going to be rich!\" I stared blankly at Joe's excited expression.\n\n\"Git yur hide outa my dressen room fore' I beat you senseless! I dun't ask for that! I din't ask for anythang! Why cudn't you jus' let me be in the quiet ones like I said!\" Damn him. I know I specifically said to keep me in the silent films. He knew how much I hated the twang of my own voice. I wish he would stop thinking about money so much and actually talk to me instead of looking at me like I'm a walking paycheck.\n\n\"Don't you worry! We can work on the accent, everyone will still love you! You've been famous for years! Why would a little thing like your voice upset you like this?\" Turning away from him I spoke slow so he wouldn't misunderstand me. \n\n\"You jus don get it, you've been a real slick one with all sorts of people. That's why you're my manager, and I'm just an actor. I can't voice my own movie, I'll be the laugh of the town.\"\n\nHolding back tears I choked back a breath and continued. \"I ain't proud of this voice, but 'tween acting and working at the factory I don't have time to fix it.\" I felt his hand on my shoulder.\n\n\"I understand, if you're open to it-I think I might have an idea that would work for the both of us. Ever heard of voice acting? I know a guy, and this can still work out for us.\"\n\n...\n\nFin" ]	1
	[WP] It turns out that "Big brother" is actually owned by your big brother	[ "A young, tall man is pacing along the almost deserted platform. Turning around whenever he feels like it. Ten steps one way, twenty the other, turning, 5 steps.\nHe looks at the sign, as he is watching the glowing 4 is replaced by a bright 3. He turns his head, averting his gaze.\n\nA couple is leaning against the wall on the far end of the platform, talking in hushed voices, giggling quietly. An old, disheveled looking man is staring intently at the wall, looking at his reflection in the white tiles barely an arms reach away, looking, without seeing.\nSuddenly he turns. Looking at the display \"3 minutes\". He stumbles along the wall, staying as far away from tracks as he can leaning into the slightly curved wall.\n\nThe young man sees the old coming towards him and tries to look at nothing in particular.\n\nA large grey camera is looking down the platform, its never sleeping eye looking towards the few passengers that are still out on a Tuesday evening. The young man turns, looking at the camera. Are there any others, he wonders.\nHe sees the old man, creeping closer by the second.\n\nThe old man raises his head, barley seeing the blurred letters on the train indicator. Still 2 minutes.\n\nThe young mans eyes are wandering, then his head turns towards a small black dome on the ceiling. The red indicator light comes on. Off, on, he is staring intently, off, on. The blinking light is reflected in the tiled ceiling above.\n\nBarely 10 meters separate both the young and the old man. Their eyes meet. \n\nThe neon lights are flickering as the unmistakable brush of air of the oncoming train blows a gum packaging and an abandoned fast food bag across the dirty platform tiles. The young man breaks away almost instantly, his eyes coming to rest instead on a garbage bin to his right.\n\nStumbling the old man works his way forward, he has a goal in mind.\n\nOne minute.\n\nThe young man is checking his pockets, wallet, phone, key, everything in place? Yes, everything is where it should be. Just one more minute, then he can sink into the trains cushioned seats.\n\nThe old man is not what he used to be, once he was young, and good looking. There is one thing they can't take from him, that one release. I turn my head, the couple almost out of sight. I am old, but I can still feel the rush coming. The adrenaline that kicks in right before, even if I do this for the hundredths time.\n\nI can't quite hear the train yet but I know from the wind that it is time.\nI move faster then I did before, looking at the grey camra as it is turning away. Eyes now focused on what is in front of me.\n\nThe noise of the train is now audible, growing louder. The young boy, barley even a man, is walking towards the tracks, surely awaiting the warmth of the carriage. \nThe piece of packaging is moving in the trains wind, gaining in speed, as am I, unleashing the last bit of effort my muscles are capable of as I check one last time. The blinking light above, on, off, on, off, off, off, staying off. It is time, I am running.\n\nThe young man hears me, turning around, but as he looks at me it is already too late. All of my weight is driving him of the platform. My elbow in his rib cage, that terrible strength that comes with the excitement driving me forwards, never relinquishing.\n\nHe is fighting for his balance but he can't win. He is already falling as the lights of the train start illuminating the tracks below us.\n\nI am running, faster then I ever thought myself capable of, but this is what it does, the thrill.\nThe thrill of killing, in the open, yet hidden. As I round the corner I see the camera turning back, now watching the grizzling scene that plays out before it. The woman screaming, a man hammering the red emergency button.\nA slimy rest of someone who might have once been love lying down in the tracks, the train above.\n\nPeople will tell you that whoever murders someone in public will always get caught, after all, big brother is watching. But when big brother turns a blind eye on you the impossible becomes easy, and my older brother happens to like me. A lot!\n\n-------------------\n\nI am not too happy with this, it took a weird turn. it's my first try at a writing prompt so it'll do. English isn't my native language so please be gentle." ]	1
	[WP] The closer you pay attention to what your teacher actually teaches, the more you get the feeling that he actually wants to convince his students to join a pyramid scheme.	[ "My father switched off the radio. \n\n“This HerbaLife documentary on the radio…informative isn’t, it?” my father said as he unlocked my side of the door.\n\n“Be on the lookout, kiddo. I don’t know if I should tell you to not talk to strangers, but one thing I know you shouldn’t trust anything until you are not a stranger to the things you think you should believe in” he advised, half in jest.\n\nI didn’t reply to his advice, said my goodbye, and with heavy steps walked on the pavement that lead to the school entrance.\n\n—\n\n“Ron Appletree is our saviour. He took the stake that were meant to strike the hearts of those who shunned his teachings and pushed them into his heart instead.”\n\nThe cloud outside looked like milk tea with its layers of orange, white, and occasionally purple clouds. It is currently Religion class. Mr. Jamie is our teacher and he will always start the class with a passage on our prophet, Ron Appletree. I’m not sure if I believe the whole religion thing; I am not knowledgeable enough to say for certain that the religion is false but I am fine right now with withdrawing judgement its truth. \n\n“Okay, everyone. Do settle down…Michael! Please don’t play with your phone during the class like you did last time, or I’m going to tell your parents about it.” Everyone looked at Michael who immediately hid his phone. His eyes bore the fear of a person who’s been in the Principal office before this. Mr. Jamie is a very honest person and when he threatens you, you know that he is saying the truth and you’ll receive the consequences if you ignore his words.\n\nAs he opened his bag too find his teaching materials for the day, Mr. Jamie told us to ready our Codex of the Tree which we simply called Codex. The Codex is the only book containing the words of Ron Appletree which were said to be the words of the Three Gods themselves. \n\nIn our country, those who teach religion are revered. One passage in the Codex states that “those who teach the way of Ron and the Three Gods, will be granted the throne of heaven.” That passage sounded weird to me because the image of multiple thrones to me is not as enticing as as having one throne to myself and let everyone be under me. With that said, tt could all be true and I’m the only stupid one who had the temerity to secretly doubt. With time, hopefully I can accept without much questioning.\n\n“Today, there is a special passage I want to teach you all about.”\n\n‘Special’? An interesting word.\n\n“It’s the passage that made me want to teach religion even when I was your age.”\n\nReally? Entertain us, Mr. Jamie.\n\n“Without it, I wouldn’t have the chance to meet all of you wonderful kids.”\n\nSycophant.\n\n“Turn to page 35 please,” said Mr. Jamie, his eyes looked around the class and still carrying that nostalgic gaze. You would know if you look because he always had this weird smile when he talked about his past.\n\n“I want someone to read this…maybe, you, Max,” he looked at me. The smile disappeared implying to me that he had exit nostalgia mode and entered his solemn-religious mode.\n\n“The Three Gods sat on top the pyramid and beckoned Ron to come to them,” I started immediately.\n\n“‘Our son, what do you see in these rocks we are sitting on top?” the Three Gods asked. Ron was silent; he knew that the Three Gods wanted him to think and not to immediately say his first thoughts. Desires come into fruition because the fruits that were unripe and poisonous were eaten when they looked the most beautiful” I stopped and turned to the next page. There was a picture of the Three Gods in the next page. The first of the Three God is Ra, second Ro, and the third Ru; their collective six feet crowded on top the narrow pyramid apex. There was Ron in the picture.\n\n“‘My Gods, it seems to me that the pyramid has many layers,” answered Ron. Two of the Three Gods frowned but not Ra, the wisest of them. He smiled. “Don’t frown my brothers. We created Ron in the image of ourselves. In our images, he started by answering the mysteries around him from the bottom to the top. It’s the way of the pyramid, you see.” reassured Ra. The other two Gods now smiled knowing that they shouldn’t be disappointed with the prophet they all three collectively chosen 100 years ago. ‘Go on,’ said Ro. ‘To carry the weight of your virtues, dear Gods, the apex needs to be strong. For the apex to be strong, the subordinates need to be strong. Only the strong lower stones can carry the strong big stones,’ Ron continued saying his thought. ‘True, true, you’re indeed correct, Ron,’ Ru said, his reverberating voice showed approval. Everything went silent - the pyramid, the Three Gods, and Ron Appletree - all of them cease to move. It was 10 years before time moves again and Ru opened his mouth, “I imagine you’ve meditated upon the answer, Ron. I’ve given you 10 years of reflection by stopping time with the vibration of my voice. Surely, you won’t disappoint us because your answer is the most important for you and your fellow men.” Ron made his away to the pyramid’s base and climbed the rocks. After every layer crossed, he would be stop in his ascent, stayed in place as if in a prayer, and then continued climbing until he reached the next layer of rocks. A year passed before he arrived at the layer of rocks just beneath the apex. He motioned his head to look at the Three Gods above him. ‘The higher the layers of rocks, the more rewards your followers will receive. What is on top will receive rewards amounting to the amount of goodness he and those below him garnered. To strive to become the best of your religion is to strive to be the best at spreading your religion. For goodness of those underneath you, of those you persuaded to join your cause, only counts if and only if the goodness is done because of the Three Gods.”There were no smiles nor frowns from the Three Gods. The truth had been said and the world resumes its motion again.”\n\nI closed the Codex and looked at the nodding Mr. Jamie. The event of this morning suddenly seemed more relevant to the current moment.\n\n“Be on the lookout, kiddo,” was what my father said to me. I realised that he had said the same thing unfailingly to me ,for a year, and it all started some time after the death of my mother. I knew he was distraught when my mother died and he retreated to his room on most days reading through what I think was books on religion. After one month of grief, his general countenance changed and it looks like he had a revelation. He looked like Ron Appletree, I thought when he resumed his participation with society.\n\nIn the car, daily, he played the same 10 minutes documentary on pyramid schemes. A pyramid scheme generally speaking showed to me how people can be manipulated into doing things that only served to benefit those on top of him but never those who are being manipulated. The manipulated can only be the manipulator if he has people to manipulate. Hence, the cycle of manipulations, a zero sum game that will continue to be zero sum perpetually, would pull more and more rocks to form the layers that will enlarge the pyramid of beliefs.\n\nBefore Mr. Jamie started writing on the black board to start the analysis of the passages, I raised my hand. \n\n“Mr. Jamie?”\n\nHis back was towards the whole class when he answered.\n\n“Yes, Max?”\n\n“Where do you think you are on the pyramid?”\n\nI wasn’t afraid of my probing question because my curiosity was swelling like the Principal’s edema. Some of my classmates responded to my question with slight contortions of the face; they thought that I was asking a trick question yet if they were to look into my mind, they would know that I was being genuine.\n\n“An interesting question, Max. I believe you know the answer already. Why don’t you tell me?”\n\nHis back still towards the class. Without looking at his face, I gathered that his voice sounded calm. It was as if he was expecting people to ask him the same question I asked since he was young and reading the Codex’s passage about the pyramid.\n\n“You/re high up…no, I am wrong. You’re almost on top, directly under Ron Appletree,” I answered. My curiosity swelled even more.\n\nMr. Jamie turned around and looked me in the eye. His eyes were sharp and his body was upright exposing a never before seen confidence.\n\n“Don’t you jest, Max.This is not you to be incorrect on matters of religion. Feigning being mistaken is not your style. For all of you who is unlike Max and don’t know the answer, the future will tell where I’m at on the pyramid. The Three Gods will reveal to all of you where I’m at the exact same way they will show your own positions on the pyramid.”\n\nI smiled. \n\nEveryone thought of downward but not I. For Mr. Jamie, it was upward.", "\"Mr. Paller, may I talk to you in my office?\" said Principal Bishop. Her voice was flat and unnerving. She only used this tone when two children were both in trouble and she was trying to squeeze out which one started it. For Bill Paller, it was a sign some sort of truth was going to be squeezed out of him. \n\n\"Please, take a seat,\" she said, closing the office door behind Bill. \"I've had some... concerns from your student's parents.\"\n\n\"I assure you I only teach to the highest degree,\" said Billy, his mind racing to find the reason for his summoning. \n\n\"Oh, I agree. We have some of the best student scores come out of your classroom. But this isn't so much about the quality as much as it is...\" she paused. \"What 'extra' things you may be teaching the children.\"\n\n\"What 'extra' things do you mean?\" Bill asked. \n\n\"I'll be blunt with you Mr. Paller because I respect you and would like this issue dealt with as quickly as possible. I have received reports that you are including the children in a pyramid scheme.\"\n\n\"A pyramid scheme!?\" Bill was aghast. \"No, no, no. I merely taught the children about multi-stream incomes. The more revenue you can gain from multiple sources, the more money you can make in the long-run. They should learn how to handle their future income.\"\n\n\"Their 7, Mr. Paller.\"\n\n\"And some of them have incredible skill in math, science, even little Cindy Clausyn built her first block house,\" said Mr. Paller, straightening his argyle tie. \n\n\"Do you not agree that it is too young for them to be thinking about income and money?\"\n\n\"It... might be a little early,\" he said. \n\n\"But I think you've also missed my point. One of the parents mentioned a name,\" Principal Bishop flipped through some pages and found a note. \"Herbalife. Does that ring a bell?\"\n\n\"Not any alarm bells,\" said Mr. Paller. \"But it does raise an interesting opportunity.\"\n\n\"What is that?\"\n\n\"Have you ever considered how many parents you come into contact with each and every year?\" asked Mr. Paller. \"And how many parents those parents come in contact with?\"\n\n\"What are you getting at, Mr. Paller?\"\n\n\"Well, last I heard, West Lincoln Elementary had an Ipad for each classroom from kindergarten to Grade 8. Their test scores skyrocketed this year, so... the two could be related.\"\n\n\"Mhmm,\" nodded Principal Bishop. \"And you understand the cost of 'Ipads' in every classroom. We aren't made of money here.\"\n\n\"Exactly!\" said Mr. Paller. \"Exactly, we aren't made of money, but what if I told you there's an easy way to open up a revenue stream? And you don't have to lift a finger once it gets going!\"\n\n\"Well... I'd say there was a catch,\" said Principal Bishop. Mr. Paller started to get excited. He wiggled in his chair. \n\n\"If I may...\" he said and dug into his satchel, pulling out a Herbalife pamphlet. \"With your large network of people, you could solidify yourself as a Herbalife Specialist. Underneath you, the parents could work to sell products to other parents and the extra revenue can go directly back into the children!\"\n\n\"So... like a fundraiser?\" asked Principal Bishop. Mr. Paller coughed.\n\n\"Exactly! It's a fundraiser. And because it can continue as long as the parents want the products, it's like an on-going fundraiser,\" said Mr. Paller, smiling back in his chair. \"We'll show West Lincoln what it's like to have some real money.\"\n\nPrincipal Bishop smiled. She dreamed of the smartboards, Ipads and gloriously high test scores. It was all so simple. She knew tons of people, finding people to fundraise for her would be easy. \n\n\"We can even ask the children to help and their parents can supply them with goods to sell!\" said Mr. Paller, in excitement. Principal Bishop did not like that idea, though. \n\n\"If the children were involved it would be more like a pyramid scheme wouldn't it?\" she asked. \n\nMr. Paller quieted his enthusiasm. \"Yes. Yes, that's true. Better to keep it how it is.\"\n\nThey both smiled and laughed, dreaming of paperbacks flying through their doors. And Mr. Paller, glad to keep his job. " ]	2
	[WP] Your doppelganger shows up at your house in the middle of the night and wants to take over your life.	[ "The man seated in front of me could have been me. He had my mannerisms, my voice - everything a Hollywood biopic would want. But he had more than that. Somehow, he also had my face. \n\n\"I didn't expect you to so be comfortable with this.\" My impostor said.\n\nThey casually flipped through my mail, their face forming darker and deeper lines with every envelope. \n\n'Is that what I looked like when I saw my student loan bills? I thought to myself.\n\n\"I'm not! But I don't see any hope in fighting you on this.\" I replied.\n\nHe tossed the mail on to the table, and leaned back in his chair, perfectly matching me as we both sipped from a mug of coffee. \n\n\"What else can I do?! You know my passwords, the combination to my door lock! Christ, you probably have the same fingerprints! I can't stop you, short of murdering you. And I can't bring myself to do that.\" I reasoned.\n\n\"It would be like suicide.\" He darkly laughed.\n\n\"Exactly.\" I said, looking down at my watch.\n\n'My friends would soon be here for dinner. How would this look? How would I explain this when I couldn't find one myself?'\n\n\"There's no one coming,\" he said, \"I already let them know I had to cancel.\"\n\nIt was unsettling how easily he'd slipped in to that habit: My house; My car; My job. Those were mine. Not his. But given the immediate situation, it was hard to argue that point.\n\n\"Would you like me to show you around,\" I weakly tried, \"or do you want my wallet? How is this supposed to go?\"\n\nHe considered me without expression for a long moment\n\n\"It's a little unorthodox,\" he said, \"this is normally the part where you'd reel in shock. Maybe appeal to the inner workings of a higher power. Then I'd strangle you without sympathy, and take some pleasure that the last thing you saw were your own flat eyes looking right back at you.\"\n\nI squirmed a bit, and said, \"What are my options then?\"\n\nHis face didn't change, but he said, \"I don't think it would be smart to let you leave. But I don't think there's a pressing need to end you, just yet.\"\n\n\"Maybe we could...talk for a little while?\" I suggested.\n\n\"We are talking,\" he replied, \"but I will take everything of mine you have in my pockets.\"\n\nI emptied everything from jeans, and put them on the table. He replaced them in his own, ransacked from my dresser before I came home. I tapped the table in thought, considering what to do next. \n\nI asked, \"Can I have some of my money? I'm in the mood for some pork lo mein. It's our favorite, and I might not get another chance to enjoy it.\"\n\nOur stomachs both let out an audible grumble. I saw the corner of his mouth twitch, and he gave in, unlocking my phone to dial a Chinese restuarant in a nearby strip-mall.\n\nAfter placing the order, he held his hand over the receiver and asked, \"Do we want pork dumplings?\"\n\n\"We do.\" I replied.\n\nThirty minutes later we were stuffing our faces in silence. He'd forced me to use the plastic fork that came with the order, and any trips to the kitchen for drinks were closely monitored. It was maddening. I couldn't do anything without him fanatically watching me for any signs of hostility. When it got to the point where I couldn't contain my frustration, I rounded on him.\n\n\"Would you mind?!\" I exclaimed. \"I'm not going to try anything!\"\n\n\"Yes.\" He said without rancor. \"I mind very much.\"\n\nI bit back my frustration, and retook my seat without complaint. He opened me a container of dumplings, handing them over without any indication my tone had upset him.\n\n\"If you did leave,\" he asked between bites, \"what would you do?\"\n\nI gave a sullen shrug, and replied, \"Head overseas, probably. Get a new identity.\"\n \n\"Unacceptable,\" he responded, \"It's more work for me.\"\n\n\"Wait! You're saying it wouldn't matter if I went anywhere else, and changed my name? You'd still need those too?\" I asked in disbelief.\n\n\"You'd still be you.\" He explained.\n\n\"Even if I had plastic surgery?\" I asked.\n\n\"No difference.\" He noted.\n\n\"What's the point then?! Why do you want to be me so badly?\" I demanded, \"Just read my letters! Look at my bank account! Look at everything I'm worth, everything I have, and all the work I've had to put in. For nothing! I'm in debt, I'm divorced, I pay a mortgage on a crappy house that's falling apart and that I can't get fixed, my car's about to be repossessed, my boss is a sociopath that blames all of his problems on me, and I can't go to sleep at night unless I have two whiskey sours strong enough to strip paint!\"\n\nI was pounding the table so hard by then that everything on it began to jump. Despite that, he still calmly stared at me and ate, which just made me angrier.\n\nI kept yelling, \"I don't want what I have! This is like Christmas for me, and I don't know which is worse: that I'm practically giving this heaping pile of misery to you, or that to keep it you'd hunt me down on the other side of the globe! Somewhere so remote that I couldn't possibly effect you! Why the hell are you doing this?! Answer me!\"\n\nHe kept eating. Kept staring.\n\n\"ANSWER ME!\" I screamed.\n\nHe swallowed, putting down his fork to wipe sauce from his lips. \n\n\"I don't have a reason,\" he replied without feeling, \"and I don't need one. In how many of those instances you could have done differently, and avoided all of your misery, did you wonder about reasons? You just did them because you wanted to. At least I'm living up to the legacy in taking the reigns away from you: I'm doing it because I want to.\"\n\nI gaped at him in bewilderment. \n\n\"And,\" he added, \"After you've finished eating, I think I want to kill you after all. No matter what you did, I think you'd want to be miserable. You probably have some more time to do so, if you'd like?\"\n\nI finished eating. \n \n\n" ]	1
The effect is binary: either you punched them in the face, and they experienced revelation and/or progress, or their destiny wasn't changed for having encountered you. 'Two for flinching' shouldn't reincarnate buddha or anything.. probably. Assume immunity to your own power. Stop hitting yourself.	[WP] You (or a friend) possess a unique power: everyone you physically strike becomes a better person.	[ "I leant further backwards into the wall, staring down the big man in front of me with my arms crossed. \"What?\" He spat, stepping closer. \"You think you can take me?\"\n\n\"What, with all these guards around?\" I gestured towards the various prison guards, watching the gathering crowd intently. \"I don't think I'm allowed to. I will kick your ass, though,\" I stood up straight, arms falling by my side.\n\n\"What's a pipsqueak like you doing here, anyway?\" Laughter exploded from the crowd, and I calmly stood my ground, staring at each and every person until it died down.\n\n\"Does it matter? Are we doing this or what?\" In truth, I had asked a very nice, old store owner to call the police and claim I was robbing him. When he refused, I had pulled a gun on him. Didn't take much to end up with a two-week stay at maximum for assaulting an officer. Best part? My hearing wasn't technically until after that term. This was just the intermediate point. \n\n\"I'm going to crush you, boy. If you think any of these guards care, then you've got another thing coming. I own this place,\" he cracked his knuckles, the sound echoing around the large mess hall. \n\n\"What, am I meant to be scared?\"\n\n\"You're cocky. I like that. I'll accommodate you. I'll even let you take the first punch,\" I laughed, looking down.\n\n\"What, you're making this easy? You're making it easy, okay. Let's dance,\" I walked up to him calmly, lightly striking his stomach. I ducked under his return blow, jumping backwards. \"What are you in for, big guy? Murder?\"\n\n\"No. My victims wish they were...dead,\" His eyes lost focus, his motion stopping. Whispers erupted in the crowd, but I wouldn't be stopped. I swung out at his arm, getting a glancing blow. He looked down, distracted, making a downward motion with his fist. I easily side-stepped it, once more putting some distance between us.\n\n\"What'd you do to them? Spit it out,\"\n\n\"I... I did horrible things. What does it matter?\" I chuckled, bringing up my fists again.\n\n\"I think you'll find it does,\" I swung out at him, bashing his head. Instead of reacting, he slowly looked at me, his eyes unfocused. \"What did you do them?\" I demanded.\n\n\"I...I...I can't. You can't make me talk. I don't want to. I don't want to remember. Please don't make me remember!\" He broke down, collapsing where he stood. I growled, slightly turning my head to look another man in the eyes.\n\nA scared hush fell over the ground. I turned in my place, locking eyes with each and every one of them. \"You're all people. You're not great people, but people none the less. You can all be better. I will make you all better,\" I motioned for two of them to move the bigger man out from the now-formed ring. I cracked my knuckles, the sound bouncing menacingly off the walls. \"My only question, is who thinks they're bad enough to go first?\"" ]	1
	[WP] Fallacies argue over which of them is the worst.	[ "\"You're the stupidest kind of argument I've ever seen,\" said Ad Hominem. \"You stink, you smell like garbage, so everything you say is invalid. Also you're ugly and no one likes you. Therefore you're definitively invalid.\"\n\n\"My dad likes me,\" said Appeal to Authority. \"And he also thinks you're a stupid and invalid kind of argument, therefore you are. After all, my dad is always right.\"\n\n\"Wait a minute here,\" said Appeal to Popular Opinion. \"Everyone agrees that you are both the stupidest and most invalid arguments around. And I mean everyone. Thus, you are. It's as simple as that.\"\n\n\"Hold on there,\" said False Dichotomy. \"Either you're all the stupidest and most invalid, or circles are square. But since circles aren't square, since that would be impossible by definition, then you're all the stupidest and most invalid arguments around.\"\n\nThat shut them all up.\n\n\n\n" ]	1
You can be benevolent, malevolent, chaotic, lawful, whatever. You can orchestrate any event you may like. For the sake of spice, you can even say that after a few years of meddling you are discovered and a massive media controversy erupts. Other 1%ers may try to wrest 'God-hood' of that planet from you, etc. Go wild.	[WP] It is thousands of years in the future, you are wealthy beyond limits, and your own personal space probe has found a planet almost identical to Earth. The Humans there are still living in their version of the Dark Ages. You decide to play God using your advanced technology.	[ "They were like frightened children, scurrying into the safety of their shadows as I arrived, landing on a large hill that was in plain sight of the surrounding kingdoms.\n\nI stepped out of my ship, sat under a tree and waited.\n\nThey came before nightfall, their fear of the unknown overcoming their fear that their enemies may gain a tactical advantage before they do. Humans, so simple.\n\nI saw five different banners riding towards me, each one carried by a single rider heading towards me at an unenthusiastic trot. They all halted ten feet away from my spot under the tree and dismounted. No one moved for a while, and none dared to exchange glances with one another, they just stood there holding the gifts from their respective kingdoms whilst fighting their own internal battles.\n\nOne of them stepped hesitantly forward, his mind overcoming his body, and then straightened into a methodical march up to my spot under the tree.\n\n\"T-th-the Kkingdom of Thrathia welcomes you, oh Great One\" he managed, even daring to look me in the eye as he handed over his basket full of fine oils and gold trinkets. \n\n\"You will be my right-hand man\" I said, grasping his arm suddenly and hefting myself to my feet with his strength. \n\nHe almost tripped over backwards on the hem of his cloak and the others reached instinctively for their swords. \"Yy-ou speak our tongue?\"\n\n\"Yes, something like that\" I said, amiably patting my breast-pocket and smiling at each of them. \"Come forward gents, I do not bite, only wish to palaver with the five of you for a while.\"\n\nI invited them into my ship, where they followed up the stairway either intrigued by my polite demeanor or terrified of the repercussions if they didn't. I watched with some amusement at the disappointment on their faces as they expected to be greeted with a heavenly void of eternal amusement and wonder, but were instead met with a grotty mess hall that could barely seat four of them.\n\n\"You are not.... you are not a God?\" asked the first of them to approach me, Sedgrep as I came to know him later, who then clamped a hand over his mouth in the horror of the accusation. \"Forgive me... I -\"\n\nI smiled and made an empty gesture with my hands. \"Just a man like the rest of you. I come from a place with a more developed set of tools, but what I wish to accomplish I cannot do alone.\"\n\nFrom under the table I pulled out six glasses and the last bottle of whiskey that I had, pouring out the lot and passing it out to each guest. They stared at it like it was poison. This was the real test, and we all knew it. \n\nI raised my glass. \"Cheers\" I said, bringing the cup close to my lips and pausing mischievously." ]	1
	[WP] The forces of Hell arrive on Earth not as invaders, but as refugees	[ "I am still in shock, we demons that fought in the angelic wars versus the angels, now we where on massive crisis, what hold me in the trenchs is the memorys of the post angelic wars and now we will go to plane where the unwanted childs live, humans. How could have this happen?\n\nIs simple hell is in an massive civil war, the royal family fighing each other, brother versus brother and in simple terms, but civil war wasnt the reason for us demons to escape hell, the power of hell, very old tech from the times where god and satan where from same civilization and humans where the ungifted, the unwanted, most humans at that time where useless, in the first civilization the humans revolt, they made weapons of war, on our backs they soon conquered most important building from the old civilization, the originals.\n\nWhy i am writting this? So humans now the truth, and i hope that this simple memorys be found by them, so they can know what happen.\nI was a child in that time i barely remember most of it, but my fathet that fought in the human uprising, he told his memorys, how great this civilization was. But the hell and heaven are not what humans think it is, this places, they are what is left of this old civilization, they are inter-worlds, they are copys of earth, you could called that this worlds are man made, in simple terms. But the power that keeps them from collapsing, are the magic that earth supplied in great numbers and magic was though to be an unlimited energy. But now is running out the channel that carry the magic to hell and heaven are either dry or blocked. So human that is reading this we are in world because our is almost dead, and i fear that heaven is next. God and Satan they where the ones in control of the system and if Satan him self, told us that we need to go back Earth. Heaven is a less demanding world to keep so i give them about another week or two before they also come to earth.\n\nAnd that is the true story, dont let any one fool you, humans.\n\nI was a fool writing this weeks ago, i should rewrite this all thing, but i fear that in the trenchs of the war between Humans and demons versus the Angels.\nI only hope that i can spill all the history before i die in this bloody dumd war.", "Assembled before the representatives of every nation on Earth stood a charming man wearing a charcoal grey suit and crisp blue tie. The gathered delegates of the United Nations were arrayed before him, just moments before discussing a white sphere that had appeared in the Iraqi city of Al-Qurnah. Hours before it had closed, but not before pouring thousands of demons into the world. \n\nThe delegates were positive this man in the grey suit was one of them for two reasons - he had simply appeared next to the Chairman on stage, and his eyes were fully back. His appearance had momentarily stunned the delegates into silence, and into that he spoke a simple statement. \n\n“You have many questions. Ask.”\n\nThe most obvious question was asked first. “Who are you?” \n\nHe smiled at this. “As the leader of what you may call demonkind I have many names. Sathariel. Satan. The Devil. You may call me Lucifer.” \n\nThe gathered representatives were quiet a moment before erupting into yells, jeers, and prayers. After some effort the Chairman was able to restore order, imploring the representatives to remain calm and let Lucifer speak. Several nations’ representatives walked out, offended that we would even consider hosting someone who had just declared themselves Satan. Finally, after peace was restored, the floor was reopened to questions. \n\n“If you’re the Devil, is there a God? A heaven?” one representative asked. \n\nLucifer’s voice grew soft at this. “There was. We haven’t seen the angelic host in millennia.”\n\nA visible wave flew through the gathered representatives as they physically recoiling from this news. \n\nAnother delegate asked, “Do you know where they went?” \n\nLucifer paused, then said, “We suspect it was the Leviathans.”\n\nWhispers and murmurs broke out, some casting doubt on what he said, others simply wondering what a Leviathan was. Someone finally grew bold enough to ask, and Lucifer answered. \n\n“The Leviathans. The Devourers. The Old Ones. They go by many names, but they are older than us. Older than me. The one you call God banished them into the darkness, but they have returned.” \n\nWe waited for him to go on, but he seemed content with his answer. \n\n“If Heaven has fallen, are you here to claim us?” someone asked. \n\nLucifer shook his head. “After finishing with the angels they turned on us. My kind, our home, is lost. We are the last of the demons. We have come to ask for sanctuary.”\n\n------------\n\nIf you enjoyed that please visit r/Painshifter for more of my stories!", "A HELL OF A DAY: \nIt began just like any other normal day. It was January, the trees were chilled by a cold ocean breeze and all that I could think about was getting my unawakened hands around a hot cup of coffee. The first item on my agenda for the day was to finish some math and english homework for school. I returned to my quiet room to begin my work to find that it was a little too quiet. My bedroom seemed unusually somber and lonely. So, I packed up my school work and ventured off downstairs into my living room. There, I wrote essays, created discussion posts, added, and subtracted for hours and hours on end. Then in the midst of my heavy workload and preoccupied mindset, I realized that the temperature had changed. However, it had not changed in the way that a hot day might eventually gather some gusts of wind. Or in the way that a very cloudy afternoon might end up in a rainy night. It was a very drastic change. When I woke up it was a cold 52 degrees Fº. It was then 2 pm, and I found myself sweating while only wearing pajama shorts and a big short sleeve t shirt. I got up and ran over to my phone to check my Weather app. It now had said it was 98 degrees Fº. But it wasn't supposed to be a hot day according to the news channels. I became very confused in a matter of ten minutes. I quickly turned on all of the fans in my house and plopped a bag of ice onto my head. After doing this, I checked my phone again. It had now said it was 108 degrees Fº. I didn’t believe it. I began to look up every weather forecast site and I turned on the T.V. to watch the news weather forecast. Everything stated that it was about 110 degrees Fº. Why the hell had the temperature changed 60 degrees in a matter of hours? Almost all of my neighbors left their houses and either were about to walk down to the beach; Or they stood talking to each other in the middle of the street trying to see if they could come up with the solution to my very unanswered question. Others stayed cooped up in their air conditioned homes. As I began to overheat, I too decided to put my bikini on and walk down to the beach. I found myself and what seemed like everyone else from my town floating in the ocean trying to escape from the heat. As I floated, I closed my eyes and let the cold water fill my ears so all I could hear was the beat of my heart and the movement of the ocean. I felt weightless. It has always been one of my most favorite feelings, floating in water. All of a sudden, the cold water around me seemed to warm up too in a heated flurry of panic and discomfort. My fellow floating peers were now running out of the water shrieking and creating waves of their own. As I awakened from my peaceful moment, I immediately saw burned victims appearing on the sand from translucent sun rays. They looked only half alive. They were falling into the arms of some of my neighbors asking for help. All the energy they had left they were using to voice their need for help. I hesitated to get out of the water. I wanted to help these victims, but I was not sure whether they were dangerous or if they were contagious with a terminal illness. I realized however that they could really not be dangerous due to their already damaged state. When I got out of the water to help them I took the risk of contracting a disease. I could not sit and watch these people suffer while my neighbors tried to help all of them. More and more of these seemingly burned victims kept appearing from the rays and appearing in full on the sand. I picked one man up from the ground that could not walk. I asked where he had come from and what had happened to him and the rest of his people. He continued to moan and cry in pure agony. Finally, he began to point down at the ground. I asked, “Were you burned by sand?” He shook his head no. He then said, “My time has already ended here. And I was sent there.” He continued to point to the ground. As I held this mysterious man in my arms, I looked around to see if anyone else had found the answer as to where these people came from, and to see what our next move would be to get them relief. As I studied my surroundings, I saw a woman who had engraved a traumatic memory in my mind when I was a young child. She had lived down the street from me. She was never a very nice woman. She would always yell at my friends and I for talking too loud out in the street or tell us that we were not allowed to speak unless we were spoken to. I was riding my bike past her house when I was eight years old while I heard the sound of a gunshot. Then another, then another. It was so loud that it pierced the eardrum deep inside my pierced ears. I slammed on my breaks and stared up at the house. I felt an intense and instinctive feeling to get far away from that place. As I rode my bike back home with heavy breathing, I heard the sound of cop cars pulling up to the house behind me. I quickly ran to my front door, thinking that for some reason the cops may come after me too since I had pretty much witnessed the ordeal. I eventually found out later that the woman who had lived there shot her husband three times in the head for having an affair with another woman. She pleaded guilty in court and was given the death sentence. A family moved into the scene of the crime about two months later and her and her husband were never brought up again. And then there I was, staring right at this woman who I had not seen or heard of since I was eight years old. She looked very beat up and was groaning in pain like the rest of the victims on the beach. I began slapping my face thinking that this all had to be impossible. I was in a dream. Or more specifically a nightmare. Or even more likely, I was suffering from a very bad heat stroke and this was the last phenomenon I would ever imagine before my body gave out altogether. I did not wake up. This was real and this woman was sincerely standing right by me. The man in my arms grabbed both of my shoulders and told me that more of them would be coming. I again asked him “From where?” He gathered all of the strength that he had left in him and pointed towards the ground again. “From the place where we have been punished for our sins” he muttered. And then it hit me. These people were not victims but were refugees, refugees from the gates of Hell. They had been released and sent back to our world. And now, it was our responsibility to take in these corrupt refugees and help them heal the wounds given to them by Hades himself. \n\n- Carly Jean", "”Cursed soulblighter, thu cruelest of—” \n\n“Oh spit it out!”\n\n“Apologies dea… ehm, the elevator… it’s ready.”\n\nAzrael dug his claws deep into the rotten flesh of his skull and scratched his brain. His morning had been terrible and it was about to get worse. Not the good kind of worse, the one with infernal screams and eternal torture, the bad one; the one where you end up responsible for the emigration of 20 billion corrupted souls back to Earth.\n\n“Goblins! How’s the magma turbine going?”\n\nA swarm of imps was hovering around the boiling, burning and oozing bed, each of them carrying a goblin that struggled with the last details on the massive turbine. Imps weren’t the best fliers and more than a few took an unfortunate dive in the burning river. Oh, the old times… when the harpies would flock the cliffs of Hell with their lovely stench and vile screams. All he had now was imps… but he did have a lot of them.\n\n“It’s looking mighty good fallen one, the onyx is of excellent quality and everything will proceed as planned” a particularly ugly imp flapped its fat wings over him. \n\n“Good. We can’t be even a hangman's twitch late. I’ll be burnt and resurrected for five eternities if anything goes awry.” Not that it would be much of a difference.\n\nIt’s was all part of the plan… It had sounded so smart when the Dark one himself first told him about his infernal idea. Everything he says sounds so smart at first… He touched his back where glorious wings once had been. \n\nBut to get all these brainless creatures, beautiful as they may be, on an elevator up to Earth, even the behemoths were jumping toes now, eager to get some fresh flesh. And he had heard some disturbing rumors that some vampires and ghosts from Niefelheim tried to disguise themselves as werewolves and djinns to be part of the stream of refugees. Demons these days… no respect for their ancestry, he spat down in the ocean of flames.\n\nThere wasn’t much time now. The inauguration had finished and judging by the soul pact Azrael held in his claws, the new president would have the drills working from day one. Once the drills broke through the roofs of Hell itself, the Dark one had the best excuse ever to evacuate Hell itself up to Earth. I’d like to see the old man’s bearded face when he's forced to sign the immigration agreement, Azrael grinned.\n\nHe could see some of the rotten wickedness of it. The tar sands, the factory farms, the ozone holes and the oil spill “accidents”. All had been devious preparations to make the imps, hell hounds and abominations feel at home on that unnatural hostile surface. But their plan was hanging on a thin tendril, the bloody Angels were experts in bureacracy and if they didn't fix that lift soon, beardface might evict them all to the moon instead.\n\n“Azrael, we have a situation…” \nOne short glance was enough for him to sigh loudly. Baal was here. Baal meant destruction. Not the good kind.", "It has been three weeks now since the first hell gates appeared on Earth. Humans don‘t tend to treat hell spawn friendly. Still, confronted with the choice of staying in hell or being killed by humans, many decided to travel through. Fear can be powerful. First thousands and eventually millions streamed out of the gates into Earth. At first no one could know what those who exit the gates awaits. Graves were dug, then camps built.\n\nI helped where I could. I have seen terrible things in my time, but these wounds were not of the flesh, but of the soul. If you looked into the eyes of the wounded for too long, you could almost feel a part of your own soul ripping apart. Is it weird to feel pity for the damned?\n\nI promised myself to stay strong as long as it takes to evacuate everyone out of hell. Now, that that day is here and everyone is on Earth a sense of fear overcomes me. I hear footsteps behind me. Turning around I look into the calm eyes of my brother. It is time, he says. I can feel my soul being ripped apart as I think my last thought: I will always be the king of hell.", "News outlets were set ablaze at the onset of demons. On the 22nd of January, just after midnight in, they descended upon us. Cast in our image, the humanoid creatures broke free from the earth. We armed ourselves, every nation going on high alert and calling their armies to action. Until the Devil himself appeared, working his silver tongue to an audience with us. That day, the world held its breath as he told us of the horrors that were yet to come.\n\nThe Old Ones, he called them. He claimed the Cthulhu mythos was the closest to the truth. And we living beings needed to band together. The Devil, asking for our assistance. Despite his silver tongue, billions flocked against him. \n\nThousands upon thousands rioted in the streets, tearing leathery wings off innocent demons and drowning them in waters. Fire would not hurt those creatures of brimstone. Yet, throughout the turmoil-filled years, the demons of hell never fought back. Not enough to do damage, anyway. They screamed and pleaded, cursed and spluttered, gasped and drowned. But they never fought back, letting it happen. \n\nThrough sympathy and the Devil's most trusted speakers, global media outlets set to a sympathy campaign. Some took the peaceful route, showing that demons — despite their outward appearances — were productive members of society. That they just looked that way to punish the sinners. An easy and believable story. After all, the worst demons are our own, never those from the outside world.\n\nOther outlets took to more aggressive means. Fear-mongering against the foretold Old Ones, the Devil recording hundreds of audio tapes and videos to be played. The Old Ones, he said, were not of this universe. They were the banished beings that God had locked away, but even God's locks can only hold for so long. And like Pandora's box being opened, they were coming.\n\nStill, if humans are anything, they are stubborn. Information was tossed aside and civil war raged. In countries with highly secular countries, the turmoil was less drastic. But in other places, the economies tanked as violent protests broke out. For years, each day the Old Ones growing closer, we fought one another. And for years, the forces of Hell were shuffled around like soldiers, trained and used in training for the upcoming war.\n\nFinally, the civil wars stopped. The Old Ones were not yet here, but an earthquake that had levelled New York — a sign of their coming according to the Devil — brought us together. Desperation, and the procrastination of humans compounding to a last minute attempt. Even in the background, scientists worked to try and decipher the truth in his words. They found no tectonic activity, at least nothing explainable.\n\nAnd so we waited. Acclimating to demons and beasts from another world, we waited. The argument was brought up, that perhaps it was all a ruse. That the Devil infiltrated the world to steal it away from God Himself. That the land would be covered in sulphur, a humanity where angels fear to tread.\n\nThen they came. Halos above their heads and wings of dove-feathers.\n\n\n**\n\nVisit /r/AlexUrwin** for more!\n" ]	6
	[WP] You're beginning to suspect that the rather crappy day-spa you're at might just be a front for something far more sinister...	[ "The smoke of the cigar mixed seamlessly with the steam of the sauna. Sweat ran down the man's shoulders and steam condensed on the cool metal of his augmentations. The sauna was always a day ending ritual of Detective Ambros. Michael Ambros was a seasoned vet of the CPD Homicide Unit and a frequent visitor of the spa. It wasn't much to speak of, the spa. A run down junker of a place located in the under-city known only as Serenity.\n\nAmbros leaned forward from his position against the wall, resting his arms on knees as he appeared to study burning coals in the room's center. In reality, he was going over the files of a recent string of missing citizens in the under-city. The replacement eye he'd received after a case that went wrong a few years back acted as a digital display. He'd had it programmed with a few neat tricks that allowed it to greatly assist in his investigative efforts.\n\nHis right hand, which was also replaced after the incident, swiped through the air as if trying to catch the steam that rose from the coals. On actuality, it was linked to his eye and allowed him to swipe and sift through files and other snippets of information that appeared in his vision. A certain file was the object of Ambros search, a recent file that had dinged in his ear piece upon arrival.\n\nThe file carried the usual crest of the CPD, and upon opening it Ambros was met with the usual standard, opening, and seals of his department's intelligence unit. What caught his attention the most though were the words of the message itself.\n\nAmbros,\n\nWe've sifted through the data about the missing persons. Most of them have a common factor, frequent visits to a run down day-spa in the under-city. A place called Serenity, heard of it? I'd recommend giving it a look, could lead to something. I'll let you know if I find anything else out.\n\n~Delilah" ]	1
	[WP] A terminally ill man obsessed with dying goes to war, no matter what he does he never seems to die.	[ "He lay in the trench as the artillery roared over him. Splashes of dirt rained down upon his position, once filled with the laughter of his comrades. Now deserted, he called an airstrike on his position to stall the mechanized infantry that loomed closer each second. His vision was blurring, the blood loss finally taking him. Closing his eyes, he smiled in death.\n\n\nHearing a salvo of rockets, he could only think of his grandchildren. Despite what Timothy thought, he would be a great father. \n\n\n---\n\n\nLooking out from the window, he spotted a platoon of tanks halting in a line. Whispering to his first private, he quickly waved them down to the basement, lest the enemy detected their position. Any sign of movement would give away both scout squads' positions. He waited and slowly crawled back until he heard the roar of unguided rockets.\n\n\nCrawling back to the edge, he peered into his binoculars. Tracked vehicles with multiple salvos of cluster charged missiles began spewing forth their contents. Sharp yellow darts crossed the sky. His men had their orders to leave him if they were spotted. He could already hear on the radio their safe evacuation. \n\n\nHe thought about Timothy again. He had named his son Antonio, after the Roman Emperor Antonius. If an artillery strike didn't kill him, perhaps a building burning him would serve his purpose. \n\n\n---\n\n\nApproaching the garrison was suicide. Or that's what he was told. He had several contusions around his torso with more cuts, lacerations from melee fighting on his arms and legs. His shoulder boasted another hole come clean from a battle rifle. Looking around with his squadron cheering him on, he could only shrug the entire episode off. \n\n\nHe had run straight into the enemy kill zone with nothing more than a pistol and foul language. Catching them off guard, they were unable to fire in time before he closed the distance. The rest was simple terror tactics, throwing himself onto the walls, throwing his pistol at the wall when his magazines ran empty. Even against a fortified sniper's nest, he zigzagged through the base to avoid fire.\n\n\nHe could only think of his son, his children. If he came alive he would have to bring the news to them directly.\n\n\n---\n\n\nSitting in a bed, he was being treated for a car accident. Of all things that might have been fatal, it had to be a car accident. T-boned at a four way stop, his body crumpled without the safety of modern airbags. His old Camaro wasn't like his luck, and his entire right side of his body was in tatters. \n\n\nTimothy and Antonio came into the room, the munchkin running up to hug him. He smiled painfully, wincing as Timothy pulled him away. Looking into his son's eyes, he nodded, pointing to his left. A piece of paper, a diagnosis from before the war.\n\n\nTimothy read it aloud, making sure that Antonio could hear. But he only laughed. \n\n\n\"Father, you never had cancel. They mixed up your results with a different person. You were always cancer free.\"", "\"O death...where is your sting?\"\n\nHe tread across the corpses carelessly, humming under his breath. A mountain of corpses laid a path before him, heading straight for the immobile alien ship. \n\n\"O death...lovely arms you bear around me...caress me in a cold embrace...\" \n\nThe ship opened fire. Lasers streamed past him and he began dodging. The exosuit helped compensate for his movements. He felt iron fill his mouth briefly as a cough struggled up his throat. The suit injected a serum straight into his spine. The coughs faded away temporarily. \n\nHe was close to the alien ship now. He shot out the guns with a grenade. The aliens slithered out of the belly of the ship, barbed tentacles flailing as they advanced on him. \n\nSimmons was impaled on one of them. Poor boy. He was barely out of his first century and perfectly healthy too. \n\nUnlike him. He coughed a little more. The serum flowed in his spine again, cold and refreshing. It wouldn't be long now...he could feel it. \n\nDeath's fingers were on his shoulder, almost pulling him in for a kiss. \n\n\"O death...\" he breathed rapturously, charging forward. He pulled a hilt from his belt, allowing it to extend into a spear. It pierced through Simmons into the brain stem of the alien, showering bits of goo everywhere as the electric charge fried its brain. He dodged around a barbed tentacle, rolling to the floor. \n\nHis chest shuddered terribly. An alien's tendril struck the ground just as he shifted aside. He pulled open his helmet briefly and spat a wad of blood and phlegm in its singular eye. \n\n\"Come on.\" he picked up his spear, skewering the squealing alien. \"Come on. Come on. Come on!\" \n\nHe stood on the battlefield. There were more aliens drawing close from the other fallen ships, towards the only human survivor on the plains.\n\n\"Come on and get me!\" \n\n", "The whistle screeched and wavered on the lips of the young officer. There was a moments hesitation from the men, but I began to climb without pause. The mud of the walls sank beneath my fingers as I struggled to find purchase until a boost from below pushed me over the top.\n\nI looked out upon the desolate field, and smiled. The doctors said my disease would kill me, but the whistle of enemy fire and the chatter of German guns gave a different diagnosis.\n\nI ran forward toward my fate. Barbed wire tore at clothing and flesh while muddied craters impeded my death, yet all around the men met the sickle with ease. Some fell silent, some fell loud, but I continued forward toward the gruesome sound.\n\nAs the enemy trench loomed ahead, I found myself paused in a crater. The chatter of combat receded and sudden clarity stormed my head. This is it. This is the end. I am ready.\n\nI rushed from the safety and stormed the bastion. A lone soldier among the enemy horde. I fired and stabbed and fired again. All around rifles barked and spit, but steady I delivered my final act. With my last round fired I gave melee, and when the rifle butt broke I turned to the spade. And when my arms tired from the horrible task, I stood among carnage and terrible death. Yet still I stood.\n\nThe enemy fled, and allied shouts rang across no-man's land. My body intact, if bruised and bled. Yet there I stood, despite my intent, alive and condemned to a clinical death." ]	3
	[WP] You just summoned a demon, the problem? You have no idea how you did it, and neither does the demon.	[ "> \"You know, this usually doesn't happen.\" I said, looking at the puny human boy in front of me.\nI had taken the form of a tall girl, dark slightly curly hair, a pair of black eyes, a skintight undergarment for decency, and a red and black cloth wrapped around like a dress, complimented by a pair of black wings and dark red horns.\n\n\"Who the hell are you? And how did you get here?\" The boy says, a look of interest and curiosity on his face. He thinks that I am a mere human, and his mind is rushing around, the stereotypical perverted teenage thoughts, for example what I'd look like without clothes.\n\n> \"I'm Rose. Professional Fallen Angel, don't really know how you managed to get me here from the White House, London is a beautiful city, when it isn't filled with smog.\"\n\n\"Professional... Fallen Angel? What is that? And why were you at the White House?\" The puny boy has no manners. Humanity really is on the decline, especially the lack of manners is clear.\n\n> \"No manners, no manners. A Fallen Angel is an Angel that supervises the humans here on Earth, thus the Fallen part. A bit in the middle between Angel and Demon. I was supervising the new president of the United States, making sure he doesn't end the Earth.\"\n\n\"Uhmmm... Wait, you said I made you come here? How?\" He is still trying to match this forms curves with a naked womans curves. He still hasn't realised that only he can see and hear me.\n\n> \"You'll never match my curves with a naked woman that you've ever seen, just stop trying. You summoned me, and if it's alright with you, I'll go back to the White House.\"\nHe just nods absently, and POOF, I'm back at the White House, in my advisor form.\n\n\"Mr President, I'd advise against sending a nuclear missile at the Russian Embassy, if you do so the public will resent you and force you to resign. I only wish for you to have a better public figure.\"", "I must have drank a little more than I should have...It was a rough week, what can I say. My friends used to ask me all the time, \"Who goes out to the bar and gets hammered on a Tuesday night when they gotta go to work in the morning?\" i would give them the two thumbs up and say comically \"This guy.\" With a big smile. They would shake their heads and tell me I'm fucked. I suppose they were right. I was drowning myself in alcohol, I needed to escape I guess. This is the story of how one night I got plastered and woke up on my kitchen floor surrounded by a pentagram painted in blood.\n\nAt first I thought maybe it was a practical joke my roommate had pulled on me. I was the creep who was always on the look-out for ghosts or weird shit. The house we had been renting was over 100 years old and was a funeral parlor before it was turned into a school house. Then after that it became a small church, and after that it was turned into a residential house. We moved in and immediately things started happening on the first night. Nothing bad or dangerous, just a lot of strange noises, things moving, doors opened on their own. You know the deal, classic ghost stuff. The 1 other human that lived their with me, Victor, and he had claimed he had never experienced anything like that, but I think he were full of shit. He probably just didn't want to pour gas on the already burning fire of my maniacal imagination.\n\nAnyways, one night I went out to town...we lived just outside Luton, England. There wasn't really much to do in Luton...the biggest thing going on in town was for many years was hat-making, and the Vauxhall Motors factory. We had the Luton Carnival too, but that was one day out of the year. Most of the people living there were either working at the factory or attending school at The University of Bedfordshire. Other than that there really wasn't much happening. I had lived in London most of my life but the city wasn't a good place for me, what with my...\"Problems\"\n\nYa see I had always struggled with mental illness. I was a little scared of the world...Actually I was terrified of the world. Not people or events or the normal stuff like my house burning down while I was sleeping or drowning in a river, brain tumors, cancer...none of that shit. And it wasn't death I was afraid of either. No, and it wasn't fear of the unknown that usually comes hand in hand with a fear of death. I was a firm believer that being afraid of death was simply irrational thinking. The only thing in life that you can guarantee is that one day you WILL die. It is the only 100% solid fact in life that you could always bet on. My theory is that, knowing death is immanent, no matter what, it takes away all unknown factors. You know that it WILL happen. Simple. That's it. Being afraid of death makes no sense, its not an unknown factor. \n\nSo anyways...as I was saying, I was just terrified in general of the world, facing it everyday, day after day after day...getting out of bed and moving among society, battling a fear of fearing everything. I tried so hard to convince myself there wasn't anything to be afraid of, I couldn't pin point my problem, so I feared that. Not being able to figure out what I was so scared of, so I consumed massive amounts of drugs and alcohol, to drown it out. Now however, as I write this, I think I finally know. Or at least i have a better idea of what's been going on in my head.\nI'm not alone in there...No I don't hear voices or see things...Well, I guess that's not 100% true anymore, but I'm not too sure how much of this is real. I don't know where to draw the line. Maybe I never did. \n\nWhen I woke up with a horrific hangover and looked around at the disaster that was once my kitchen, I was shocked. The blood everywhere was questionable enough, not to mention the fact that it was a pentagram painted around me, I had been passed out right in the middle. My heart began racing and I rolled up my sleeves, checking my whole body for what I assumed would be grievious injuries...but there were none. Not even a scratch. \"VICTOR!\" I screamed, \"VICTOR! WHERE ARE YOU?!\" I was so afraid that I had done something. The blood had to come out of something. I heard Victor upstairs jumping out of his bed and running to his bedroom door. \"What!\" He yelled down the stairs. He must not have come down all night or seen what was happening in the kitchen. \"Are you Okay?!\" I yelled back, trying to calm down a bit, at least he had responded. \n\n\"Ya I'm fine...Are YOU Okay, you scared the shit out of me!\" He yelled. Then I heard him start coming down the stairs. \"Fuck\" I said to myself. This was going to be a hard one to explain. Victor turned the corner and stopped dead in his tracks. His jaw dropped and his eyes got huge as he took in the sight of me, haggard and hung-over sitting in a circle of blood on the kitchen floor. \"What...the fuck, Wolf. What did you do?\" He asked. I just shook my head, I was afraid to know what I had done. Then everything got crazy. Victor dropped like a stone, convulsing and writhing on the floor. Blood came pouring out of his mouth and his limbs flopped all over the place. \"VICTOR!\" I screamed, pushing myself up to my feet and I went to run over to him but when I got to the line of blood circling me, I stopped. I couldn't move. I was unable to do anything so I screamed and cried and pulled out my hair, subjected to watching this fresh wave of terror before my eyes.\n\nI fell to my knees and clawed at my clothes, I couldn't do anything. \"WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME!\" I screamed. I don't know why I yelled that, but I did, and then Victor stopped moving. Holding my breath, waiting ofr God only knows what, I stared. He sat up, covered in blood, his eyes unblinking, just staring at me. \"What did you do?\" He said. This caught me off guard. \"What?\" I asked, confused beyond all reason. \"Why did you make me come here?\" He replied. \"I- I thought maybe...I was scared I hurt you...I'm so-\" I began, he interrupted. \"How did you call me? What did you DO!\" He yelled. I recoiled, the look in his eyes changed, I didn't know who he was...but he was not Victor.\n\n\"Victor?\" I asked quietly, terrified of the answer. \"Victor isn't here anymore. You killed him when you summoned me.\" he replied, smiling an evil and ominous smile. The look of a lunatic. \"What are you talking about?\" I asked, carefully, normally I wouldn't fall for this type of thing but there was no point denying what I was watching. \"How did you do it? Now I'm stuck here you know that? I'M STUCK HERE!\" He yelled. In a split second he crawled over to the edge of the circle, an inch away from my face. His hot, foul breath permeating my soul. I jumped backwards into the middle of the circle and pulled my knees up to my chest. \"What are you?\" I asked. The man who used to be Victor laughed, spitting blood and cracking his neck from side to side slowly. Then a thought came to me, I couldn't get out of the circle, but I might be able to wipe enough away to break it. What would happen after I didn't know. How I even got into this situation was a complete mystery to me as well, but I had to do something.\n\nTerrified, I looked down at the blood on the floor. Victor stopped moving and laughing, he looked at me, still smiling. \"I'll get you, you know. I'll take you with me.\" He whispered. \"You made me come here, so I'll make you come with me.\" He said. I thought about it for a minute. I was scared of everything to start out with. Maybe it was time to stop being so afraid...after all death was the only certainty...right?", "The cauldron slowly began to bubble after Qaurren pulled a small clear vial from his robe and poured the purple contents into the once stagnant mixture. \n\n\n* \"Four drops dragon tear.... now stir slowly....\" * Quarren muttered to himself\n\nHe waved his hand causing the rod resting inside the cauldron to slowly stir the mixture. Glancing at the scribbled instructions on the parchment he nodded and slid the piece into his robe then directed his focus to the cauldron. The contents began to turn to a dark shade of purple and bubble violently as a small haze of smoke lazily crept away from the liquid. Quarren grimaced and hastily reached for the instructions once more.\n\n* \"stir slowly... four drops tear... one ounce gold leaf... t-two drops of alchemist extract...\" * he hissed. \n\nAs Quarren scanned the list desperately searching for anything he might've forgotten the Cauldron began to bounce and twist about sending acidic drops of purple everywhere. The ground began to sizzle as the mixture melted through it. \nQuarren quickly reached into his robe pocket and pulled out a bundle of sticks, casting it into the mixture.\n\nBOOM!!!\n\nAs soon as the sticks touched the liquid the cauldron ceased it's wild dancing immediately. The liquid inside turned a dark red, released a noxious metallic smelling cloud of smoke, and finally split the cauldron into pieces. More smoke enveloped the area as the spill began to melt into the ground. Qaurren gasped as his whole body went cold. He waved his hand and uttered a phrase in the ancient language\n\n* \"Wa'nhey... Clutini... sha....\" * he repeated with his gaze fixed on the mess before him.\n\nAs he spoke a rift appeared suddenly. A cold mist began to flow from the portal causing Qaurren to take a step back as he took a defensive stance. His hands began to glow as he held them in fists toward the portal. An enormous claw reached out from the portal, piercing through Quarren, but not injuring him. A voice began to pry it's way inside of Quarren's mind.\n\n* \"Immortality..... you sought.... instead you have found...... me\" * Each word cut through Quarren's thoughts and the pain from the mental intrusion forced him to his knees. He could only gasp * \"Who?!\" \n\n \"I..... would ask the same..... such a weak, pathetic creature you are.....\" * The voice hissed.\n\n* \"I cannot fathom...... how such weakness could summon me....\" * Each word spoken like a knife through Quarren's skull.\n\n* \"Yet.... I am bound to serve....\"* \n\nQuarren gasped and writhed fighting to get to his feet, but found himself weak against the dark forces before him. A second claw emerged from the portal, stretching it even wider. The two claws grasped around Qaurren squeezing him with a force unimaginable. He attempted to screech, but could only lightly gasp as the claws gripped him tighter and tighter. Suddenly everything disappeared and Qaurren found himself in a dark cave. He felt no wounds, but in his mind he could feel a dark force swaying his thoughts. \n", "Boxers around my ankles, I sat on the toilet, too relaxed. I could feel my right foot going to sleep. Damn I put my head in my hands and begged for this Taco Bell nightmare to be over. \n\nA whoosh of fire and smoke appeared in front of me. I think it singed my eyebrows off. In front of me stood a man, I guess, around 6 feet tall in a black bath robe. He held a folded newspaper in one hand and a dripping coffee cup in the other. He looked pissed as hell, rubbing his forehead and mumbling to himself.\n\nHe began to speak, at first annoyed, then in a roaring voice that made the towels ruffle. \"Ok, fine... Who has summoned King Paimon, The Lesser Key of Solomon? Loyal follower of Lucifer, ruler of two hundred legions, seer of all mysteries of the earth and the... - ok you know what, today was my off day, I deserve a break. What do you want?\" \n\nI stared up at him, terrified, amazed and confused. \"What? Never seen a demon before? I normally have a guy to do the intro for me and there's usually music and a crown and a camel but this wasn't expected so that's the best you're going to get.\" \n\nI was speechless. Taco Bell has given my painful shits in the past but now I was hallucinating? \"Uh... come again?\" He looked annoyed and put his newspaper on the counter. \"I'm King Paimon. I'm not going over the rest again, its a mouthful. You summoned me. What do you want? And flush that damned toilet!\" Before I could reach back to do so, I felt a rush of water against my ass.\n\n\"I didn't \"summon you\". I've been here for the last 30 minutes. Most I've done was play Angry Birds.\" He looked at me like that was the dumbest thing he'd ever heard. It was a pretty good explanation in my opinion. \"You didn't draw a swirly thing?\" \"...no?\" \"A circle? \"...no.\" \"What direction are we facing right now? You have to have done that at least.\" \n\nI felt like a screw up for doing nothing at all. Then again, I had just eaten 4 Doritos Locos Tacos. Now was actually a pretty good time to start questioning my life choices and how the hell I had summoned a demon. \"You have to had done something for me to be here. Do you want anything answered or whatever? I'm a busy man, I really don't have time to be messing around with an overweight teenager.\" I stopped washing my hands and threw water on him. \"Fuck off you little bitch... you want some pizza rolls?\"", "I was drunk a bit past midnight. After a whole week of work I had a day of, time to party. But nah,I was feeling too sleepy,too dizzy...I blacked out. \nI woke up with my head hurting,was that screaming just a dream? The fire, the ash. But no, it was not. In front of me was the most terrifying creature I had ever seen, his horns were jagged and sharp,claws which could tear iron,skin a ghoulish shade of red. Slowly it opened its eyes and in a deep gravel tone it said,\"Oh no,a human! Don't hurt me please\"", "I wake up in a strange room. What am I doing here? How did I get here? I don't seem to remember any of that. All I remember is that one moment, I was at home with my wife and two kids... and now I'm here.\n\nI had heard about this, back at home. My co-worker swore it was true, it had happened to his cousin's wife's best friend. My mother had told me stories about them when I was a kid. But I'd never believed it. Conspiracy theories, I thought. Religious dogma. Medieval beliefs. After all, humans don't exist. They are just a figment of our imagination. A result of our need to divide everything into black and white, into wrong and right, into good and evil.\n\nGuess I was wrong. \n\nAnd I might just have to pay for it.", "The bathroom swirled with rumbling clouds of smoke streaked by lightening and the stench of sulfur flooded the efficiency apartment. The silhouette of a great, cow headed figure rose through the roiling smoke with a booming laugh. Moloch rose to his full nine feet of height and proudly stepped forward, directly into the frame of the bathroom door.\n\nThe blow got his attention and he glanced around the tiny, one room apartment in confusion as the smoke cleared. Roger, the inhabitant of the apartment, stood in the three square feet of tile that constituted the kitchen, frozen in a mixture of confusion and horror. Moloch stared back in embarrassment. It was not often in his eons of existence that he had shown up somewhere by accident, and not often that a mortal witnessed him make a fool of himself.\n\nRegaining his composure, he rose back up in height and spoke in a grand, deep base which caused Rogers rib cage to vibrate. \"Are you the one who summoned me?\"\n\nRoger, still slack jawed and vacant eyed, shook his head no.\n\nMoloch glanced around the room. No black candles had been lit. There were not symbols drawn in blood. Instead of ritual robes, the man in front of him was wearing pajama pants and a stained college tee shirt. \"Have you been reading any strange books recently? Maybe something in a language you don't recognize, perhaps bound in human skin?\"\n\nThe man shook his head again.\n\nThe great cow headed demon put his hand over his face in frustration. \"Have you bought any items from a mysterious store lately which later disappeared? Said any weird things into a mirror with the lights turned off while spinning in circles? Pulled a weird item out of an archeological dig site?\"\n\nAll negative.\n\nMoloch threw his head back, searching the back of his mind for any possible cause to his arrival. \"Did you... did you recently slight a gypsy or something?\"\n\nRoger shook his head yet again.\n\nMoloch the heavy judger of men, cow headed god of the Canaanites, Moloch of Ginsberg's Howl shifted awkwardly in the doorway. It had been quite a while since he had been cornered into small talk and he was quite rusty. \"What are you eating?\" he uttered in a voice that rattled the panes in the windows and sent rats fleeing from the decrepit apartment building.\n\nRoger, broken from his trance by the oddity of the question, looked down at his frozen pizza. \"Big meat.\" he croaked through a dry mouth. \"Want a slice?\"\n\nThe demon shrugged and collected his meager offering, but he recoiled in horror at the first bite. \"Jesus,\" it bellowed. \"What have you done to this?\"\n\nThe pajama clad man glanced back at the warmed up pizza sitting on his oven. \"I doctored it a little. You get a little bored of the normal flavors if you eat this stuff too much.\"\n\nMoloch spit a mouthful of cheese and sauce and meat onto the cheap carpet. \"How many animals are on this?\"\n\nRoger shrugged and took a bit of his own slice. He ran the numbers in his head. \"Well, probably five different kinds, but all of it is processed meat. So it could be hundreds. Who knows.\"\n\nMoloch, the demander of great sacrifice, stared down into the puddle of pizza he had spit into the carpet and from there noticed the trail of blood in the bathroom. The drops trailed out in odd circles and archaic symbols, so complex and ancient that they looked almost accidental. \"Well there's your problem.\" he belched in a puff of sulfurous smoke. \"You consumed abdominal flesh and completed the blood rituals.\" He glanced back at the bandage around the mans hand.\n\n\"Oh, that? I cut myself when I was messing with the pizza. Is that really a blood ritual?\" He ended the sentence by consuming even more of the monstrous amalgamation of flesh, that legion of mingled carcasses, that big meat pizza.\n\nThe Canaanite god shrugged. \"It technically is.\" His voice was strained with bitterness. \"You ate the flesh and spilled the blood, so under the Demonic Dealings Accord, you are entitled to one unreasonable demand. I should warn you that I am allowed to misinterpret your demand in monstrous ways under the accord, but it's your choice.\"\n\nTerrible thoughts and endless possibilities from straight to DVD movies rushed through Rogers mind. \"No, I think I'm good.\"\n\nThe god shrugged. \"Suit yourself, and stop eating that pizza. It's just disgusting.\"\n\nAnd with a clap of thunder and slightly forced melodramatic laughter, the demon sunk into the stained linoleum of the bathroom. Roger retrieved his cellphone from the top of the refrigerator and took a picture of the blood pattern on the floor. He knew this would eventually be an amazing party trick.", "Sorry for format, I'm on mobile.\n\nThe problem with demon summoning is how random the ritual seems. Somewhere along the line, someone had the bright idea to spread a lot of misinformation about the subject. Maybe they where trying to prevent a bunch of yahoos from bugging the greater demons of the abyss, or maybe the ancients where assholes.\n\nAfter slicing up a pineapple, singing Queens-Don't stop me now, and putting the finishing touches on what is appropriately referred to as the \"Great Pyramid of Piña Coladas\", I'm left starting rather confused at an entity of inky darkness.\n\n\"Why have you summoned me, mortal?\". It's voice reverberated with air in such a way to make me kak my pants. \"SPEAK!\"\n\nWith all the strength I could muster, I said \"I wwwas just getting ready for a tropic themed party, I wasn't trying to summon a demon.\" And it was true, of all the things I could have thought I was doing, summoning a demon was never on the list.\n\n\"Is that not the sacrificial pineapple? Or the sacramental liqueur arranged in the most unholy of shapes? Or perhaps you just accidentally sang the abyssal passages perfectly.\"\n\nAt the time, I thought my singing was kinda shit actually. \"Listen, I never intended to summon you. Is there a way I can send you back?\"\n\n\"I don't know the methods. Only when the ritual calls, do I answer. It is the responsibility of the summoner to banish me back to whence I came.\" The demons form coalesced into a more sane form as it plucked a drink from the load the corner of the pyramid. The pyramid didn't even shake.\n\nIn that moment, my pal Randal just put on a scary mask and lept out yelling, \"ABLOOGY WOOGY WOO\" while toppling every drink in the pyramid. \n\nAnd like that, the demon was gone, but my carpet was ruined...", "\"FOOLISH MORTAL! YOUR INNOCENCE WILL BE YOUR DAMNATION! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHO I AM?\n\nThe behemoth towered over me, an infinite black cloud swirling with dread and the eternal haunt. Screams of woes and the sacrificed danced in its million eyes that glowed a sickly shifting hue of yellow and blue. It's black wretched skin rippled with absolute anger, pulsing in places that were unnatural. It's mass supported by equally Colossus legs that trailed to spindly points like a spiders. I could smell it, fire and death, a decaying mass of death and fear. Yet despite that, I wasn't afraid, I felt calm, protected even.\n\n\"Nope\", the casualties of my statement certainly stirred it's ire. He took a step back and reshuffled his steps, as if my words were to be so powerful that they struck him a blow.\n\nHis mouth gapped open, black saliva dripping from a million finely pointed needle like teeth, the bile dripped to his chin and gave a sense of it being horribly toxic.\n\n\"I AM BA'MI'JAR. CHAMPION OF THE SEVEN HELLS, SLAYER OF ANGELS, DEVOURER OF THE UNBAPTISED. LORD OF CORRUPTION, MASTER OF ILLUSION. DESTROYER OF WAYS AND BREAKER OF SOULS. I HAVE TEMPTED A MILLION TO THEIR DAMNATION. MY NAME SHAKES THE GATES OF HEAVEN AND SHATTERS THR HOPE OF ANGELS. I RULE THE CHAMBER OF NIGHTMARES. NONE MAY SUMMON ME, NONE MAY CHALLENGE MY WILL!\"\n\nThat's a lot of fancy titles I thought, but not aloud. I figured it'd be best not to try and insult him. Best I could tell the only reason he hadn't set me on fire yet or ate me was out of curiosity.\n\n\"Well, like, I didn't summon you man. So maybe you got los-\" before I could finish I was abruptly cut off. A voice filled the room, one eerily familiar and yet I don't believe I had ever consciously heard it before.\n\n\"NO! It was me Ba'Mi'Jar! I have summoned you! You are now chained to my will!\" \n\nI turned to see where the voice came from, but all I saw was my cat, Sir Meowzer, staring intently at both of us.", "I groaned as I slumped into the sheets on my bed, stretching my legs out. Normally I'd be out at the gym at this point, but work had absolutely kicked my butt today, and I felt a little entitled to a cheat day. Maybe a nap before my husband got home, that would be just the thing. But there was an odd scent in the air, making me sneeze- acrid and almost hot, tinged with sweat or something else.\n\n\"Stupid cat.\" I muttered as I sat up, assuming that Fleabag had piddled in the bedroom. Again. I was pushing myself up to my feet when I realized I wasn't alone in the room anymore. A figure was leaning on the doorframe, smirking at me.\n\nIt was unmistakably female, with the sort of curves you only see thanks to photoshop. She had pinkish-red skin, exposed for the vast part with only scraps of black leather to offer the vaguest nod towards decency as clothing. A face that even I had to call a heartstopper, with high cheekbones and full lips, framed by silky black hair cut in a bob. Even the hooves, the spade-tipped tail, and the small horns jutting from her forehead seemed to enhance the air of lusty sexuality that poured off her.\n\n\"Not a cat...\" She purred, taking a step forward and swaying her hips. It was smooth and natural, predatory almost. I threw my hands up defensively, and yelled \"What the hell?! Get out of here, lady!\"\n\nThat brought her up short, her perfectly manicured eyebrows knitting together. She stopped her advance, and then blurted out \"You called me here, why would I be leaving? If you want me to leave, just do the banishment already.\"\n\nMy heart was pounding in my chest as I took a closer look at the oddities- the horns were perfect, there was no pink or brown or black flesh hidden under the reddish skin tone, and the tail was moving way too smoothly to be a prosthetic. I gulped, and then looked up at her puzzled expression. \"I didn't call anyone here- get, get on out already!\" \n\nShe stomped one hoof on the soft carpet, her voice rising \"Obviously you did, otherwise I wouldn't be here, mortal! So just say the banishment or whatever, so I can get back to my own entertainment.\" She put her hands on her hips and leaned forward, lips curling in an annoyed pout. \n\nI shook my head. \"No, do you see black candles or satanic stuff in here?\" I gestured around my cluttered bedroom. There were pictures on the wall from my honeymoon in the Alps, and a painting of one of the mountain lakes. Clothes were scattered on the floor, and my stack of library books were on my nightstand. The demon slowly looked around, and scowled.\n\n\"You had to have done it, or I wouldn't be here tied to you- where's the pentacle, and there's no blood sacrifice- what the hell did you do?\" She cried out, looking suddenly panicked. \"Send me back, I don't want to be trapped up here!\"\n\n\"Uh... go! Go back! You're banished. Leave! ... Fuck, just go!\" I cried out, starting to shake. Every word was louder than the last, and I knew my neighbors would gossip if they had heard. But the demon just stood there, looking at her hands and then giving a frustrated sound.\n\n\"Aaargh! You have got to be kidding me!\" She took a step forward and then with unnatural grace fell face forward into the bed next to me. From this angle I could see a pair of long, faintly discernible lumps on her back, and absently I judged them to be where wings would be. She laid there for a moment, and then raised her head. \"So you can't send me back- what the fuck. I can't go back without you releasing me.\"\n\n\"Wait, wait, wait.\" I blurted out. \"I release you, you can go- Jesus, my husband won't believe this. \" I waved my hands, shooing her away. But the demon just eyed me speculatively, making me suddenly feel like I was being sized up at the club by a pervert. \n\n\"Doesn't work like that. You have to use the right phrases and magic and all. If you did it by accident, I'm stuck here. With you.\" She pouted, and damn if it wasn't painfully adorable. I wish I had a pout like that, I'd win every argument with my husband forever. \n\n\"Oh no no no.\" I breathed. \"Not only no but hell no. You're outta here- scram! Door's that way!\" My finger pointed towards the apartment door, but the demon just rolled over onto her back, stretching out and sighing disconsolately. \n\n\"Can't. Part of the rules- have to be within a certain distance. And I am going to bet you don't know the words to command if you don't know how to banish. Well, I might be stuck here, but at least you don't know how to bully me.\" She wrinkled her nose, and then sighed. \"It could be worse.\"\n\nI stood up, throwing my arms up. \"No fucking way! Are you kidding me, my husband is going to freak out!\" I paced the room, shaking my head furiously. I spun towards her, pointing my finger at her. \"Can't you turn invisible or disappear to Hell or whatever?\"\n\nShe gave me an amused look. \"Honey, look at me. I'm a succubus, not an ifrit or wraith. I don't turn invisible- I need to be very visible to do my thing. And frankly, your husband will probably like having me around until you figure out what magic you used.\"\n\nIt doesn't bear repeating what I called her, but she took it all in stride, giving me the time to vent at her. I trailed off, slumping against the closet door, covering my face with my hands. \"Oh, this cannot be happening. This is a disaster.\" \n\nShe giggled at me, and then shifted into a provocative pose on the bed. \"It's not so bad. Why don't you let me take your mind off things for a while, and you'll agree...\" she said with the most absolute wicked tone I've ever heard. Not even the most shameless girl at a club has had a tone that could match this demon's. \n\nI slowly lowered my hands and stared daggers at her. \"I'm married, and I'm straight.\" My growling response didn't seem to phase her in the slightest. \n\n\"What does that have to do with anything?\" She said with a slight smirk, her eyebrow arching with all kinds of implications. And I'm stuck with this? I stared at her for a long minute before digging for my phone.\n\nMaybe Amazon has \"The Dummy's Guide to Banishing Demons\".", "“So”\n\nI mindlessly stir my lukewarm tea. The ringing of my spoon against the white porcelain cuts through the awkward silence in the room.\n\n“So” The man standing opposite me replies, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. After another moments pause I clear my throat to break the silence. \n\n“You look a lot different to how I had imagined”\n\n“Really?” The man replies, raising an eyebrow.\n\n“Yeah. I dunno, I always imagined, you know, wings, chains, horns, that sort of thing.” The stranger in my kitchen ponders on this for a moment, taking a sip of his tea.\n\n“Why would you think that?”\n\n“Comics, I guess? TV, movies, pop-culture. That sort of thing.”\n\n“I have no idea what you are talking about” says the stranger. “I exist as you wanted me to. I am a manifestation of your will”\n\nThis part wasn't entirely true. I knew that to remove a demon from the world I would have to discover and say it's name (This I learned from Hollywood) How I summoned him on the other hand was a complete mystery. This Being claimed to me that I had completed some great and complex ritual when all I had done was feed the cat and made a cup of tea for myself. He had appeared right in front of me without warning in a puff of red smoke.\n\n“So you came from Hell?” I ask not wanting to know the answer.\n\n“I don't think you understand. Before now, in the time before you summoned me I didn't exist. I was essence without form. I was potential without any consciousness. I know nothing of life other than the reality you have given unto me”\n\nI ponder this for a moment. This entity stood before me does not at all resemble how I would imagine a demonic presence to have manifested. He resembles a man like any other. Standing at roughly five and a half feet tall, olive skin, square jawed, short thick black hair and a prominent brow. He wore a pair of faded blue jeans, a black Ramones t-shirt adorned his barreled chest and he was wearing a pair of black converse shoes. He could have been anybody. \n\n“So... do you want to go home?” I ask pensively.\n\n“I have no home” He replied, not conveying any hint of sadness. “This is the life you have given me and I am here until the end of days.”\n\n“Fuck” I mutter. “I guess that means the end of days will actually come then. That's not good is it?”\n\n“You accept this truth with a great deal of calm, human”\n\n“Yeah I suppose so. I dunno, I've been pretty down lately so this is just about my luck. Plus I'm really tired at the moment so maybe I will have a little freak out later on or something.”\n\n“Maybe” The demon replies, finishing his tea and setting down his mug. I take it and rinse it in the sink, desperately searching for something to do with my hands.\n\n“If you tell me your name I can send you away, right?”\n\n“That is correct” He replies, his face a tombstone.\n\n“So will you tell me your name? Write it down or something so I can say it out loud and send you away?”\n\n“But I have only just gotten here” The demon replied with a smile “And there is much work to be done. Great deeds will be done by your hands. Great, terrible, amazing things. And we haven't much time at all” \n", "\"- So... You didn't sacrificed anyone ?\" \n\"- No... I told you three time already....\" \n\" -And... You didn't drew your blood on a parchment while signing a pact of some sort ?\" \n\"- I would remember it, last thing I signed was my credit card receipt.\" \n\"- No virgin blood on it ?\" \n\"- Not that I can remember. We don't usually use that as ink anymore, you know ?\" \n\"- Maybe you did sacrificed a virgin and didn't realized it... Did you attempted suicide recently ?\" \n \"- Fuck you.\" \n\"- You're welcome.\"\n\nWhat started as a normal day took a turn for the unexpected quite recently. I was at home, minding my own business playing video games when suddenly all lights started flickering and went out. This marked then end of my last ranked game for my promotion to silver but my teammates were bad anyway. \nThen, while I was cursing my luck, I heard a loud bang behind me and a massive form started to form close to my bed. \nBefore I understood what was happening, a 5 meters, red skinned, big-horned tall monstrosity was kneeling before me. Am I wrong to think that Diablo's developers miiiight have found inspiration from him ?\n\nBut then, like in every social meeting I have, an awkward talk happened.\n\nAccording to him, he wasn't summoned by mistake. \nAccording to me, I never summoned him.\n\nThe demon code forbid to refuse a rock-off challenge, but apparently there's nothing in their FAQ for \"wrong invoker summoned me\". \nBut beside the mentioned awkward talk, I don't really care. and to be honest, he doesn't seems to care either.\n\n\"- So... How long are you going to crash my couch ?\" \n\"- Dunno. We demons are usually bound for the duration of a contract. It's just a job you know ? So, in normal circumstances you say 'aaaawww big demon from the outher hell pleaaaaase help me to kill whatshissame or make whatshername fall in love with me I'll do aaaanythiiiing' AND that's the part were they sell their soul to me, you know ? And after that I usually get back home for some fun time. Sometime the invoker is smart and realize he's getting screwed and refuse the deal, so I can be trapped here for some time, like 6 years, 6 month and 6 days, usually. Not really a big deal for me. Speaking of which, you won't happen to be in the mood for a small soul contract ? For a friend in need ?\" \n\"- Fuck off. You can crash my couch anytime you like if I keep my soul, thank you very much.\" \n\"- Shit. We'll it was worth a try, right ?\" \n\" - Right.\" \n\nDeciding that this was leading nowhere and the demon could do anything to me if I didn't screw up, I began another game of League of Legends.\n\n\"- Hey ! What's that thing ? It says Welcome summoner, can I have been summoned by this ?\" \n\"- Not a chance, it's video game's lingo, there's no blood involved.\" \n\"- Hey ! It says FIRST BLOOD ! There ! In capital letters !\" \n\"- Stop using my chair as an arm's pillow, you're heavy you know ?\" \n\"- Sorry...\"\n\nThe game continued for some time, but weirdly the demon seemed to... starts enjoying the game. Looking more and more interested.\n\n\"- You don't have that at home, do you ?\" \n\"- Well, we play with living souls usually. They are funny squishy things but it gets boring after a millennia, you know ?\" \n\"- Guess I would be bored either after a while...\" \n\"- Hey ! Don't get here, that weird-looking axe-throwing viking is just in that bush, waiting for you, do you want to die ? Not that I mind tho... But he's damaged and you could kill him with one shot.\"\n\nWhat ?\n\nI stopped my character and blindly launched a spell in the direction the demon showed me with his... Claw ? Finger ? \n\n\"YOU HAVE SLAIN AN ENEMY\"\n\nI stop in my track, reading the insults of the enemy player flooding my screen, calling me a cheater.\n\n\"- You... Knew he was here ?\" \n\"- Well... Yeah ? We demon know what is going on around our invoker, it's kinda useful in our work, you know ?\" \n\"- Okay, first I am NOT your invoker.... And secondly you know where are the rest of my opponent ?\" \n\"- Well, yeah ? Look here, there's one running away.\" The demon showed me a place in my screen covered by the fog of war. \"You can easily shoot him with that spells that launch a huuuuge missile, you know ? You used it earlier without success but now... If you use it... THERE !\"\n\n\"DOUBLE KILL !\"\n\n\"- Hahah ! See ? Told you he was here ! Ahahah ! You BLEW HIM UP !\" \nThe demon was heartily laughing, finding the sight of human's avatars killing each other extremely funny. I guess computer games are not extremely frequent in hell. One more reason to NOT sell my soul to this guy. But then an idea appeared in my head.\n\n\"- You like seeing me kill things, right ?\" \n\"- Well... Yeah ? It's a demon thing, you know ? You don't seem phased a lot either to be honest. I kinda like that.\" \n\" - What if I told you I can make a living out of that and, since you are trapped here with me, why not do something that amuses both of us ?\" \n- I get your drift, human, that looks like a fun way of killing time before I can meet my favorite succubus again. Don't worry about other humans, they can't see me if I don't want to be seen\"\n\nI quit my main account and launch the creation of a new one. \nWith him with me, I'll be unstoppable, the best there ever was. \nThis will not be correct, this will be cheating, but I don't care. \nThis won't be my strength, this will be fake. \nA demon god, walking among men.\n\n\"WELCOME, SUMMONER, CHOOSE YOUR SUMMONER NAME\"\n\nI can't resist a smile as I type my new name.\n\nFaker.\n\n\n\n\n", "“Listen, man. Can I have a blanket?” said Amy the demon to me. “It’s freezing in here.”\n\n“Uh, yeah. Sure. Of course. Forgive my bad manners,” I replied.\n\n“It’s cool. I’ve seen worse.”\n\nI start walking to the bedroom to grab Amy a blanket. Then I stop, turn around, and size her up. Her? Him? It? I glance to its crotch area, but it catches me looking and I quickly look somewhere else, off in the distance, putting on a far-away face, trying my best to look lost in thought. Amy slides its hand down over its junk zone and rolls its eyes. I realize I’ve been caught and decide to simply blurt out, “What are you?”\n\n“The red horns don’t give it away? How about the forked tail? Never been to Sunday school before?”\n\n“No, I mean are you a boy or a girl?”\n\n“Boy? Girl? First of all, I’m like 8,000 years old, so I’d be a ‘man’ or ‘woman.’ Secondly, dude, you can’t just ask an infernal demon lord what gender they are. It’s rude.”\n\n“Well, I didn’t want to assume…”\n\n“Lastly, I don’t really have genitals. God didn’t exactly want us reproducing.”\n\n“Then why did you cover your groin when I looked at it?”\n\n“AHA! So you were looking! I knew it. That’s fucked up. I’m your guest here; not cool. Go get me that blanket so I can cover myself.”\n\nI mumble another apology and continue walking to my bedroom. I think to myself how terrible a host I’ve been so far, to a demon no less. I decide to rectify this and reroute from the bedroom to my linen closet. If I’m going to do a better job, I ought to present Amy with a fresh, clean blanket rather than a used, dingy one from off my bed. Lord only knows how long it’s been since I last washed it. Actually, Amy might know that answer to that. I think of asking it.\n\n“Two years. Jesus, Mark, you’re really disgusting.”\n\nWait. Can it read my thoughts? Can you read my thoughts? I think to myself pointedly.\n\n“Yeah. Give me the afghan your mom knitted you.”\n\nShit. Shit. Shit. Clean thoughts, Mark. Clear your mind…\n\n“I don’t have all day here. I don’t care about your weird perversions and, frankly, there’s nothing your little mind could think of that would shock me at this point. Honestly, it’s my turn to roast Judas next and my shift starts at 7. Let’s speed this up a bit. The blanket is on the bottom, to the right.”\n\nSure enough, it is. I bend down and grab it. Handing it to Amy, I think how inadequate it is. The demon is close to ten feet tall and about four feet wide. He’s hunched over a bit to avoid hitting my ceiling, so it’s tough to tell.\n\n“I’m closer to eight feet, ten inches. The horns add a foot or so.”\n\n“There’s no way that thing is going to cover you. I have larger ones.”\n\nAmy drapes it across its shoulders, like a tiny shawl. “I know what you’ve done under the other blankets in this house over the years and I’d rather not use them, thank you very much. At least you’ve had the decency not to be as rude to your mother’s memory as you have been to me. Most people over the millennia have addressed me as a He, by the way. You can do the same if you’d like, although I'm not used to talking with…. normal folk.”\n\n“Oh. No?”\n\n“Nah, usually Satan sticks me with his more distinguished guests. Former dictators, high scientists, Presidents. You know the sort. Heck, you voted for some of them. Granted, they aren’t in hell yet, but give it some time.”\n\n“I see.”\n\n“Not to brag, but I’m in charge of thirty-six legions down south. And you’re a, what?”\n\nI puff up my chest a bit, feeling more than slightly mocked. “I’m a part-time manager at Gamestop, thank you very much.” \n\n“Uh huh. Right.” \n\nI deflate a little. A lot, actually. There’s now this weird pregnant pause. I speak first: “So why are you here?”\n\n“You’re the one who summoned me. You tell me.”\n\nMy mind goes blank. “What?” I ask.\n\nAmy turns his head sideways and gives me a puzzled, penetrating look. He stares at me for a while and then says, “Huh. No kidding. You really don’t know why I’m here. That’s weird.”\n\n“Has this ever happened to you before?”\n\n“Not really, no. Typically when I’m summoned, people are looking for some help of the demonic variety.”\n\n“Like what?”\n\n“Oh you know, help with trampling armies, sparking an unholy revolution, getting even with a particularly thorny foe. The yooge.”\n\n“Right. Well, I don’t have any revolutions i’m currently sparking and my boss is pretty cool at work, so I can’t really think of any enemies I want slayed.”\n\nAmy adjusts the blanket on his shoulders. “I’ve been summoned. I can’t leave until my mission is complete.”\n\n“That’s pretty decent of you. Good work ethic. For a demon, I mean.”\n\nAmy rolls his eyes and scratches his forearm. “That’s hurtful, Mark. I have feelings you know. I’m not just a stereotype.”\n\nI apologize a third time.\n\n“Anyway, it’s not my decision. Those are the union rules.”\n\n“Hell has a union?”\n\n“Yeah, ever since the Eve eating an apple thing, there are fairly strict job site rules. Satan got all the blame for that when really it was an outside contractor who posed as a snake and convinced her to bite into that dang fruit. Thanks to that, we all got a bad name so he cracked down on who does what when. No more outsourcing jobs, etc. A couple of us got together afterward and decided that if Satan was going to be formalizing this thing, we ought to have some protections for on the job injuries, time off, safety regulations and that sort of stuff. So sure, we unionized. Is that a problem? God, you aren’t one of those weird anti-union people are you, Mark?”\n\nFlustered, I overstate my case. “Oh jeez no, definitely not. No way, I love unions. They’re the best.”\n\nHe gives me that sidelong look again that says I’m full of it. “Sure, whatever you say. Say, you got any coffee in this house?”\n\n“Definitely. But, uh… would you mind maybe sitting somewhere else while I brew you a cup? You’re kind of burning a hole into my carpet.”\n\nAmy looks down and sees the small, grey curls of smoke rising from directly under his hooves. He scoots over and stands on a metal air grate instead. “My bad, yo.”\nFeeling like finally I have the upper hand, I confidently walk to the kitchen and try to turn on the coffee maker, but it’s already got a full pot heated up. That’s when I put two and two together.\n\n“God damnit.”\n\n“Watch the language, Mark. That word kinda stings when you say it.”\n\nI don’t know if he means damn or God, so I keep it broad. “Shoot, I mean uh, jeez darnit? Is that good?” I go to hand Amy a cup of coffee.\n\n“Sure.”\n\n“So, I know why you’re here. At least I think I do.”\n\nHe pauses. And waits.\n\n“Last night I kinda had a few too many drinks and might have accidentally asked the devil to fuck up a guy I know.”\n\n“A guy you know? I thought you didn’t have any enemies.”\n\n“Alright, ‘know’ might be a strong word. He’s more like an acquaintance I’ve met. Online, on Xbox Live.”\n\n“Online? As in the internet? Nope, no can do. We’re banned from the internet.”\n“How can you be banned from the internet? You’re a demon. Aren't you like, omnipotent? All seeing, all-powerful or whatever?” I ask.\n\n“Not since about 2006. We had an AOL account that we all used, but Baezelbub went to some shady websites and got in trouble with his ISP. I think he tried to download a car or something… Anyway, you’re going to have to appeal to a higher authority on that one.”\n\n“‘Higher authority?! Jesus isn’t going to kill an internet troll for me!” I exclaim.\n“No, not God. I mean a webadmin or a moderator. Send them an email and tell them to ban that guy.”\n\n“So we’re clear here, you’re not going to seek out and torment this dude on Xbox live for me in the fiery pits of hell, and your advice is to email an administrator to get him banned?” I inquire, incredulous.\n\n“Yup, and actually if you can email the guys at America Online and see if they’ll unban devilsplaygrnd69@aol.com, the guys and I would really appreciate it.”\n\nI roll my eyes. “I’ll be sure to get right on that, Amy.”\n\nHe seems to miss the sarcasm dripping in my voice. “Good, so we’re cool then?”\n“Well, if you can’t avenge me by maiming my enemies, I suppose we’re done here.”\n“Sounds good. I’ll be seeing you then.”\n\nJust then, I remember something. “Actually, there is one thing you could do for me before you go.”\n\n“Anything you want, Mark. Just going to cost you your soul.”\n\n“Yeah yeah that’s fine, whatever. If you could key my ex-girlfriend’s car on your way back to hell. Also, she took my soul years ago, so you’ll have to haggle with her on that one.”\n\n“Ohhh, your ex? Cheryl? That’s a no go, too. She’s sort of looked at like a hero by some of the fellas back at work. They admire her. She's super scary. Sorry, champ.” \n\nAnd with that, Amy disappeared into a puff of sulfurous brimstone and flame, leaving me standing alone, cup of cold coffee in hand, burn marks in my carpet, and an internet troll to frag. By myself. Sigh.", "\"Dan, the microwave's speaking again.\" I chimed out to the living room, unsure of how to get rid of this problem.\n\n\"I will eat the soul of your loved ones and feast upon their eyes.\" The microwave chortled after, banging the door against itself.\n\n\"Turn it off and on again!\" Dan walked into the kitchen, placing a hand to his stubble and watching the microwave curiously.\n\n\"Tried that.\" I sighed.\n\n\"You will feel your skin peel out in the darkness of Hell while your tongue is ripped out and pushed against your eye socket!\" The microwave screamed, shaking left and right. Luckily, it couldn't move, even if it could, the plug chained it nicely.\n\nThis wasn't the first time the Microwave had threatened us with eternal damnation. It had been popping up every time I had to microwave something, I still had no idea why only I could summon the spirit that infected our kitchen appliance.\n\nDan tapped me on the shoulder. \"Maybe, we could, hear me out on this, buy a new microwave?\"\n\n\"I'm not giving up on this microwave! It warms up my pizza just the way I like it. If I just throw it away, it'll be someone else's problem anyway.\" I said.\n\n\"The virgin angels will laugh at your guts being displayed on spikes.\" The microwave interjected.\n\n\"Unplugging it doesn't work?\" Dan offered another idea.\n\n\"No I'm afraid, It just keeps flapping the door.\"\n\nI hummed, watching Dan scratch his stubble in a mindless gesture. He was thinking and I should be to, but all I could think about was that my pizza was still stuck inside that microwave. I reached my hand for the door, trying to grab hold of the handle and grab the treasure inside. The door slammed on my wrist, more strength than a kitchen appliance should have. I yelped and pulled my hand back, nurturing it. Damn microwave.\n\n\"Harharharharhlfgrlglrglg\" The microwave jeered me. Why was life always against me? I just wanted my pizza.\n\n\"Try duct taping.\" Dan offered another brilliant idea.\n\n\"Duct taping what?\" I ruined his brilliant idea.\n\n\"Hmm.\" Dan opened his mouth, then shut it promptly. He looked dejected and ruined, if he couldn't figure out how to deal with a possessed microwave, what would his mother think of him?\n\n\"Let's pour water on it.\" I clapped my hands, smiling proudly.\n\n\"What.\" said Dan.\n\n\"What.\" said the Microwave.\n\n\"Think about it, Hell's all fire and darkspawn. Water's pure and healthy. We pour water on this sunavabeetch and he'll pop. Holy water, of course!\"\n\n\"Brilliant!\" Dan agreed, opting to give me a high five.\n\n\"Noooooo\" screamed the Microwave.\n\n", "It looked at me...\nI looked at it...\n\nIn that moment the universe seemed to stand still; frozen in the horror of the moment. \nSeven feet tall, standing crookedly upright on two reverse jointed appendages, its skin was a dirty, muddied crimson - ridged and scaled like that of a lizard. Huge leathery wings splayed from behind its back, and an ugly face of pure evil sat atop its neck.\nRed eyes that blazed with fire stared at me with malicious intent, hunger all too apparent.\nAs the universe regained consciousness, the demon took an ungainly step forwards, towards me, claws digging into the floor of my bedroom. Its wings brushed against the walls, knocking shelves to the floor with a crash.\n\nI was paralysed. I could not move. The gaze of the thing rooted me to the spot. It came closer.\nI tried to scream, to do anything to get help.\nBut I couldn't.\n\nIts face was inches before me now as it bent down to sniff me. Hot raw breath washed over me.\nIt opened its mouth, and I prepared to say goodbye to the world...\n\n\n\"Excuse me my dear mortal chap, have you any idea on what dimensional plane this rock dwells upon, and indeed how I ever came to manifest here?\"\n\n\n \"What?\"\n" ]	15
	[WP] You have a telescope that, instead of making far-away objects look larger, makes ugly things appear beautiful, prose like poetry, nonsense scribbles like artistic masterpieces, meaningless chaos like order. That is, until you make the mistake of looking through it backwards.	[ "It was nine thirty. I lay, sprawled on the sofa, mouth hanging open, slightly ajar, staring at the crack on the wall through my telescope. That little crack, the result of an unfortunate attempt to put up some artwork, became a ravine, the walls of plaster cascading down into the valley below. The web of minute squiggles became a maze of gorges, meandering across the vast plains of my wall. \n\n\nMy eyes, led on by the crack, wandered up to ceiling, where a lonely lightbulb dangled from a wire. The miniature sun was swinging gently, splashing soft shadows on the furniture. The bulb flickered, and the sun sputtered out, only to reform before my eyes, blooming in pulses of intense colour.\n\n\nKeeping my eye firmly fixed on the eyepiece, I got up to get something to drink. \nI nearly collapsed, and all the fibres of the carpet briefly came into focus, each string a wave of water. Brilliant dots leaped at me, each one a constellation. I flew toward the ceiling as I got up, and for a second, I was enveloped by the miniature sun lightbulb, blinded by its rays, but unwilling to turn away from the scalding light. \n\n\nStill clinging to the telescope, I stumbled toward the kitchen, where the countertop greeted me, with its tessellating shapes, swirling about each other. A newspaper lay open, and bursting from within were a thousand words, all lustrous and glossy, surrounding the picture of a beautiful scene: a collapsed building. There was beauty in the destruction, beauty in the loss and grieving, beauty in the anguished faces of the orphaned children. I could see the beauty in everything. \n\n\nFumbling for a glass, my shaking hands knocked it over, sending the water within soaring in an arc, each transparent droplet quivering as it hit the floor. The glass, tumbling as it fell, struck the floor, imploded on impact and disintegrated. The icy glass daggers pirouetted about the floor, flicking broken rays of light into my eyes. \n\nMy hand reached out to touch the prisms of glass, yearning to hold the crystal in my hands. I brought the shard up to my telescope, where its many facets shimmered, glistened in the light. It threw back shades of white, then deep red as the blood from my finger seeped out, like some precious gem.\n\nI dropped the glass and studied the crimson tears issuing from me. I liked the way the blood dribbled past my knuckles, the beauty in the little streaks of ruby on the whirling winds of my fingerprint. Then, from that dreamy landscape was a stab of pain, and I almost reflexively drew away the telescope.\n\nAnd then I saw. I was standing in my apartment, blood running down my hand, a glass shattered on the floor and the lightbulb swinging gently. I wiped the blood away and washed my hands, then grabbed the keys and a jumper and left the room. I needed a walk. \n\n\nBurying the telescope deep in my pocket, I stepped into the outside world. The people outside seemed bleak and distant, their faces guarded. Towering skyscrapers stood like monoliths, their cold concrete walls staring down at me. The sorrow, the suffering was audible. The irritated honks of cars, the murmur of soft hushed voices, the shuffle of tired feet.\nWhere, I wondered, was the beauty in this world?\nWhere were all of the intricacies of the telescope in this featureless expanse?\nWhere were all the luscious colours of the telescope in the monotone grey of the road, the plain black of the sky, the chill white of the snow?\n\n\nThough I had been resisting it, I pulled out my telescope, my only refuge in this world of grey. It was made of cold metal, and a dull shade of black. How ironic. \n\n\nI wanted to look through the telescope, but only with extreme restraint did I stop myself. I wanted to see that vivid, radiant world again, where all that is not beautiful is banished, but the sharp sting of my index finger warned me of the consequences. \n\n\nI had found the telescope just yesterday around where I was walking now, discarded on the road. I stood, staring at it for a long time, mainly wondering why someone would leave a telescope lying around. Though I was keen to get home, out of the cold, the telescope captivated me like nothing else. Like it had yesterday, the telescope seemed to call out to me, begging for me to take a look, the smallest sneak peek. \n\n\nI revolved it over and over turning it over in my hand. The cold streetlight gleamed off the lens, inviting me. I turned it over again, to look at the opposite side. \n\nAs if by instinct, I looked through. What would I see through the other side? All of the horror of the world? The sorrow, the suffering, all the horrible, revolting things?\n\n\nNo.\nIt at first looked like complete darkness. Then, there was a distinctive gleam of metal. Pointing the telescope backwards at a streetlight, I could make out a small metal plate where end of the telescope should have been. Angling it further, I noticed something else. There was writing on the plate.\n\n\"Tragedy deserves to be understood, not ignored\"\n\n\n\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] On your way to work, a downtrodden man sitting on a bench calls out to you and says, "I'm not well. I could use a friend right now if you have the time to listen."	[ "Every morning, I cross though the park to get to the little commuter rail stop for work, but even as I write this, I can't differentiate one day from another. Every morning was, and is, exactly the same, barring the weather, even so, I'm always sweating in my suit. It looks nice, and I like it, but I can't handle the sweat, so this is kind of liberating. Even just to say that. The sky was grey, as it is nine months out of the year, and in my edgy youth, I used to think there was something romantic about it, but the lack of Vitamin D is starting to change my mind. I don't care what anyone says about the supplements you can pick up at Rite-Aid--they don't work.\n\nThis morning was mostly the same. I walked through Washington Park, wishing they named it something else, when someone called out to me. I don't like mornings. I'm not much of a talker. So, as a logical consequence, I especially don't like talking to others in the morning. I ignored any noise this person, clearly an older man, made, but when he called out to me, \"Hey, you! In the suit!\" I felt it would have been too noticeably rude for me to just ignore him again. I live in a more spacious, remote area. It's nice. The people are nice. The houses are nice. I can walk on the sidewalk without damaging my Berluti oxfords, and I think there's a lot to be said for that. This man, though, didn't belong. He certainly didn't belong. He had a scruffiness that was well past any o'clock shadow, and clothes that weren't tattered, but certainly didn't fit, with colors that didn't match. The nearest Goodwill is three towns over. He must have walked.\n\n\"I'm not well,\" he said. \"I could use a friend right now if you have time to listen.\"\n\nI didn't.\n\n\"Sure,\" I said. I couldn't say no. The eyes on his leathery face crusted up with dried yellow tears, and his inattention to it made me dig my thumbnails into my fingertips to ease it. It felt good until they started to bleed a little. Thankfully, I didn't have anyone to answer to about going into work late, and as my throat swelled up sitting there, I hoped that listening could my good deed for the year. That was the justification I was going with. I thought about offering him a job, like a bad Hollywood feel-good movie, but the real world doesn't work like that. I think it's better that way, actually. Crazy people with crazy people problems go to therapists, not friends. Kings with speech impediments go to speech therapists with degrees, not Australian quacks.\n\n\"What's troubling you?\" I asked, trying not to look too interested.\n\n\"You don't sound too interested.\"\n\nFuck me.\n\n\"No. I am. Please. Tell me.\"\n\n\"Well,\" he continued. \"My wife left me.\"\n\n\"Me too.\"\n\n\"And I'm broke.\"\n\n\"Me too.\"\n\n\"Could you let me finish?\"\n\n\"Sorry.\"\n\n\"I'm broke, man,\" he continued. \"I'm not asking for money. I promise I'm not. It all just happened so fast. I loved her, but every night it was more of the same. We fought, she screamed, I screamed back, all that. But I lost it. I lost it and I smashed a plate. And then I threw one at her.\"\n\nHe pointed to a barely-healing cut on the side of his face.\n\n\"See this?\" he continued. \"She let me have it. And I let her have it too. After I did that, I let her do whatever she wanted to me. I couldn't believe it. I couldn't believe myself. I slept in the park, right here, and when I went back, she changed the locks on me.\"\n\nHe didn't say much after that. I even pressed him to go into more detail to make it sound like I was interested, but he refused. When I got up, he pressed his hand down on my thigh to make me sit down. I think he wanted me just to sit with him more than anything, so I did. He kept moving around like he had something under his coat, one hand on it, and every time he did, he winced. I didn't want to ask him if he was okay. I didn't even know why I did this. I can't say I was compelled. That would be untrue. I felt more compelled after I sat down, for what it's worth, to listen, but after what he told me, I had no idea what it was I could do. I could have told him my problems, how my kids, all in their thirties, won't return my phone calls, in hopes that he'd think he hadn't hit rock bottom just yet, even though he definitely had. I didn't want to make it about me.\n\n\"I have kids,\" I told him. \"They don't talk to me anymore.\"\n\n\"I know,\" he said.\n\n\"And it's my fault.\"\n\n\"I know.\"\n\n\"Point made. I get it.\"\n\n\"I don't think you do.\"\n\nI furled a brow, as he clenched his stomach, and leaned over.\n\n\"Cameron and Lindsey say hi.\"\n\nHe brandished a handgun from under his denim jacket, and squeezed the trigger twice. I clenched my intestines, holding them in, but they're so damn slippery. It was easier to just spread out on the biking path, and now everything is fading to grey. I just hope they don't need my thumbprint for my phone.", "\"You're him, aren't you?\" I asked as I sat next to the man on the bench. \"You're the one ConTrav is looking for. Mooney, right?\" The man who had called out to me remained slumped on the bench, his left arm clutching at his right shoulder. His head lolled forward so far his chin nearly rested on his chest. He glanced at me sideways with his dark eyes, and I could almost read in them his thought process as he tried to decide how much he should actually tell me. Finally, he nodded slightly.\n\n\"Moody,\" he corrected, \"James Moody\". His accent had a slight Irish cant to it wholly at odds with his middle eastern features. That was the thing with a lot of ConTravers, their normal accents didn't always match up to the available bodies they were 'jumped' into. Sometimes those that traveled in such a manner requested specific host qualities to match up with their own, but just as often they wanted the different experience. Different race. Different sex. Different whatever. And of course sometimes the traveler wound up with whatever host body happened to be available at the destination they wanted to travel to. Luck of the draw.\n\nI found myself almost reflexively reaching to my comwatch as the man confirmed his identity. His hand shot away from his shoulder and grabbed my wrist as he shook his head. His grip lacked any real strength, but the suddenness of it surprised me and stopped me short.\n\n\"Don't,\" he gasped, pulling his hand back. It left behind a smeared streak of blood on my wrist. I stared at that reddish-black mark, feeling my eyes go wide.\n\n\"What the he-,\" I began to mutter.\n\n\"I told you before, I'm not well,\" Moody interrupted me. \"Something's gone wrong with this jump.\" He raised his left hand to his temple, tapping at it a couple of times. Where he did a spot of blood remained. \"For starters, I'm not the only one up here. He's still in there.\"\n\n\"I..\" I began, but paused groping for understanding. \"I'm sorry,\" I finally continued, \"I don't think I follow what you're saying.\"\n\n\"ConTrav promises a clean host, yeah?\" Moody asked. \"But what if it's not? What're you supposed to do then?\" His breathing became a bit more ragged, and his own eyes had gone wide as well. \"I can hear him, you know?\"\n\n\"Hear...who?\" I queried. \n\n\"Says his name is Karim,\" Moody's voice dropped. \"Karim Alhaq. I heard him almost from the start, right after the jump.\" The name, and the features of the body sitting in front of me, seemed to fit together. Understanding finally began to dawn on me as my hand rose to my mouth to cover my own gasp.\n\n\"Are you telling me that you can hear the...\" I trailed off, not yet willing to actually say it out loud. Moody however had no such reservations.\n\n\"The original owner of this host,\" he nodded. \"Claims to have been used as a host forty two times and I'm the first ConTraveler who can actually hear him.\"\n\n\"That isn't possible,\" I was shaking my head. \"ConTrav stores the consciousness of their hosts for the duration of their contracts. The families of those hosts are compensated very well during that contract.\" My mind was racing and as yet I wasn't fully believing what I was hearing.\n\n\"Aye, true as you say,\" Moody agreed. \"But I'm telling you, Karim is in here with me. Not only that, but it appears as though he can take over control from time to time.\"\n\n\"No,\" I said bewildered. \n\n\"I woke up early this morning in Southeast surrounded by a bunch of Karim's family,\" Moody began, his head rising to stare at me. \"He told them what had been happening, that's he'd been 'conscious' in a manner of speaking this whole time.\" He glanced down at his body, raising both blood covered hands. \"They beat him. Or me, both of us I suppose. I don't know if they were trying to kill him or not, but apparently that 'compensated very well' part of the contract you mentioned earlier is an awful strong motivator. If it gets out that ConTrav isn't actually storing the consciousness of their hosts then what happens to those contracts? What happens to that company? They'd be ruined!\" His voice had been rising, becoming stronger as he spoke. But when he finished speaking a series of racking coughs shook him and I noticed blood in the spittle on his lips.\n\n\"Come on,\" I said as I rose, \"we need to get you to a hospital. From the look of things I'd say the sooner the better.\"\n\nMoody slumped slightly further on the bench and shook his head.\n\n\"No hospitals,\" he breathed out. \"Those places are run by ConTrav, and they'd likely destroy this host and possibly me with it to keep their secret.\"\n\n\"I'm afraid,\" I said as I reached into my pocket, \"I'm going to have to insist.\" I clipped my ConTrav security badge onto its usual place on my shirt.", "I woke up with a thumping headache. My hours meant that the usual crack o' dawn greeted me, a fuckin sissy sun, neither here nor there, no light, no warmth, just hangin' in there.\n\nTwo novocaines and a shot o' rye later, I started. If I were in a story, here would be the bollocks about some questions on the universe I should be asking to make me deeper... Like why I bother turning up fer a job I hate. Reality is different. You just feel numb, know you you have rent and child support and bar tabs, and just keep going. There's no thought to spare. You do your shift, get showed out, get your notes and hope you don't blow 'em by the end of the day. \n\nThe hammering in the head is almost gone when I stumble out of the bus. I nod to the resident bum and turn to cross when, for the first time in the months I've known (of) him, he mumbles something at me. I knew it was at me... For one, he doesn't talk... Hasn't talked... since I've gotten this job - that's ... what-seven months now? And apart from the odd nod or the flipped coin, we don't have much in the way of interaction. And the other... He used my name. If there's one word that can get through to a man past his hangover and apathy, it's his name, even as slurred as it were spoke.\n\n- Beg y'pardon?\n- Dyavasecommate? Ikuyousapal right now.\n\nSlow, slurred. But it was him. No name. No conversations came to mind. Couldn't place him outside of Brighton Central.\n\nI didn't have time to kill. But a few minutes would help with my hangover. \n\n- What's up mate?\n\nHe stirred from his blankets unleashing a misty stench of rotten gin (fuckin' bums), and steadied himself.\n\n- Can you do me a favor?\n- Depends.\n- Can you tell me what's the latest on Guccifer two oh?\n- the where to where?\n\nHe spelt it out for me. A normal internet search. And another. Some news, then a URL and some funny letters and numbers (a \"Jade Goody\" or something he told me).\n\nWeird, but two minutes of effort. And that was it. No coin or food pleas. Just a simple search.\n\nA week passed. I was curious. This Guccifer was some Russian hack with goods on some election in the US. And a right ol' Seamus living in the dumps with cheap gin and hollow cheeks had asked me about news on him three times in a week. After six months of nods and coins.\n\nThese were hard times no doubt, the hardest I'd been through, and though I'd heard about the Thatcher days from me dad, I doubt it was this bad. But I was starting to think about something other than the grind. May be I'd get off the novocaine. May be I was turning a corner.\n\nI saw some bobbies when I tapped in, standing near the elevators. We took the same one up, got to the same office and exchanged glances before i went to my desk.\n\nFive minutes later, the bobbies took me. Polite enough yeah, but firm... They needed to ask questions. They didn't know what questions. Just to get me there. No idea for what. I know what? They shouldn't even be talking to me, so shut my piehole.\n\nIt was like the movies - dark room, metal table, single light. They took my phone, so I just stared into the dark till the door opened again and a silhouette came in. With questions. About Guccifer. And the G U I D (those funny numbers and letters). I didn't have much to give them. I told them about the bum and gave them my phone, unlocked it for them.\n\nAnd the pulled up the tapes for the bus stand. Who was the bum. Point him out they said. Only... the corner was empty. Just your average unaligned building corners, ideal for bums, but just... Without one. No bum. \n\nTbc" ]	3
	[WP] You've had an amazing fiscal quarter, and it's time for your annual review at your company. As you enter your Boss's office and sit down, he has his back turned. "Well," He says, "let's get this started." He turns and puts a revolver on the desk between the two of you.	[ "I said nothing. The CEO stood still, eyeing me, waiting for me to make a move or exclaim something. He carefully sat after a moment, coughing gently, scooting his chair forward and tenting his fingers. The gun sat there like a dead fish, cold and scaly. \n\n\"Did you hear me?\" he said abruptly, jolting me from my consideration of the evil lump of hardware on the table. He was staring right at me, boring his gaze into mine. \n\n\"Um, yes sir, what exactly are we starting?\" My brow was starting to sweat. I'd heard rumors about what went on here on the fifty-fifth floor, but it never seemed to spill down to those of us in software development on the twenty-sixth. Accounting was not the flagship responsibility of the company, doubly so forensic accounting, which meant that the 'minor error' I'd discovered in our transaction processing API was all the more noteworthy because nobody had ever thought to check for something like it before. When the beancounters realized we were essentially throwing away several hundred thousand bucks a year because one of my predecessors had used the wrong type for a variable... well, some of the senior programming team leads mysteriously ceased to exist in the company directory. \n\nMy own boss had thankfully started after me, which was lucky; Geanine was one of the better bosses I've ever had. She'd called me in one day to surreptitiously congratulate my find, while hinting that I'd be getting excellent marks on my review this year, with maybe a double-digit percentage of the money I'd saved us all as a reward. \n\nThen this. A terse email from the executive assistant, Re: Performance Review. Come upstairs. Top floor. Three p.m. Don't be late. The look on her face when I'd stepped off the elevator was a mix of pity and terror, but she said nothing and waved me towards the CEO's corner office. \n\nAnd now I sat here, swiftly developing large beads of perspiration in places they didn't usually occur. \n\n\"We're starting your performance review, Aaronson. It's simple, really. You did an amazing job on the API revision, saved us bucketfuls of cash. Excellent work.\" \n\nI gulped down the lump in my throat, mumbled out a weakly grateful thanks. The CEO continued. \n\n\"Did you ever meet the original programmer who wrote the code you reviewed?\" \n\nI shook my head, no. \"He was before my time here, sir.\" \n\n\"Odd man, brilliant though. I hired him myself when we were still building website widgets ten years ago. He created some of the most elegant solutions to problems we had, gave us a real edge over the competition. Probably generated eleven, twelve million in revenue alone for the contracts we landed. Per year. I knew about the bug in the transaction module when it was written.\" \n\n\"Wh-what?\" I was stunned, forgetting briefly that there was a handgun lying there in front of me on the executive desk that cost more than my annual rent. \n\n\"Yep. He told me about the quirk, demanded to see me about it in fact. Told me there was a reason. 'Don't mess with it. Don't recompile the module. We'll lose a little revenue but it's important.'\" The CEO looked away, fiddling with his tie for a moment, staring off into space. \"He said we were paying for the performance of our code with the money we'd lose. Not in concrete terms, processor cycles per dollar or anything so simple. He said he'd made a deal.\" \n\nHe leaned forward, staring me in the face again, face set and hard. \n\n\"The price was money or blood, Aaronson. The... thing that makes our code pass Go, collect two hundred dollars, and round the board again, it's not friendly. It needs leverage to get by in the modern world, and that means money. Since you found its revenue stream and stupidly turned it over to QA for review, we've got to invent a new one.\" He gestured at the gun slowly. \"Or give it what it operated on before we invented banks and computers and e-commerce. You solved a tricky problem last week, Aaronson. Now solve one like your life depends on it.\" \n\nHe leaned back in his chair. \n\n\"Or if you think you're fast enough, make me solve it, one way or the other. Did you know I used to write code once, too?\" He grinned wolfishly. \"How do you think I started this company, anyway?\" ", "The phone rang; out of habit, I picked it up. \"Billings' phone, Design & Development,\" I answered.\n\n\"Billings? Good, just the man. This is Ted Rickers.\" I didn't recognize the voice, but the name... My eyes turned unbidden to the enormous oil painting adorning the office; a man with slicked back dark hair, a full three piece suit, and a falcon perched on his arm. The brass plaque below the frame announced to the world that the pictured man was one TED RICKERS - CEO. The falcon's name was left unspecified. \nWhy is the CEO calling? Is this good news, or bad? \nAnd why the falcon?\n\nI managed to regain my focus just in time to hear \"I need to see you in my office immediately.\" I started to stumble out a response before I realized that I was already talking to the disconnect tone.\n\nMoments later, Rickers' assistant Jenny ushered me into his office. Rickers was standing with his back to me, and as he turned to face me, I realized he was holding the same falcon from the oil painting. At least, I assumed it was the same falcon. He opened the window and released the falcon outside.\n\n\"Billings!\" he started as he closed the window again. \"Good man. Now I know what you're thinking: why did the CEO call me here? Why is he so damned attractive? And was that falcon a pet?\"\n\nI started to form a coherent response, but he carried on regardless as he sat down behind his desk.\n\n\"Good questions, Billings. The answers are, in reverse order: God no, I hate the damned things; that's borderline sexual harassment, Billings, for God's sake, keep it in your pants, man; and you're here because of this.\" In one swift motion, he slid open a desk drawer and withdrew a revolver.\n\nI'd never really seen a gun up close before; it was duller than I'd expected - I suppose I had expected it to gleam under the office lights, but it didn't. Instead, it seemed cold and dead, a lump of inert metal. \nRickers placed it on the desk with an audible thud. I tried my best to ignore the gun as Rickers continued; I'd heard the man was eccentric, but this was another level entirely.\n\n\"Now, Billings, I know that you know that we've had an excellent quarter - largely thanks to your department's latest designs. Profit is up; employee morale is through the roof; and quite frankly, the Board of Directors are so happy that I could just outright murder an employee in my office, right here, right now, in cold blood, and we wouldn't even be able to blink before the cover-up was in place.\"\n\nI smiled nervously at what I assumed was just an awkward joke, but my eyes flicked to the gun nonetheless, betraying my sudden doubts about Rickers' intentions. \nRickers followed my gaze, and quite suddenly began to laugh.\n\n\"Ha! Not you, Billings. This? This is a novelty cigar lighter! The flame comes out of the barrel, see?\" Rickers produced cigars from an inner pocket, and stuffed one into my mouth. He picked up the gun, and brought the barrel to rest against the end of my cigar. \"Honestly, Billings, this doesn't even look like a real-\"\n\nThe report was frighteningly loud; even more so for being so close to my face. A hole had suddenly appeared in Rickers' office ceiling.\n\nAfter a few moments, my hearing returned, and with it, the realization that Rickers' desk phone was ringing. He picked it up.\n\n\"Rickers! Yes, Jenny? Aha. Yes. Oh, I see. So, the lighter is in the left drawer? Yes, Jenny. Yes, Billings, from Design and Development. No, no 'cleaners' this time. Usual bonus and NDA for Billings. Thanks, Jenny.\"\n\nRickers looked at me as he hung up the phone.\n\n\"Sorry about that Billings. Jenny will have some paperwork for you to sign on the way out, and there will be a substantial bonus in your pay this month. Say no more, right? Good man. Good work, keep it up, enjoy the cigar, carry on, et cetera.\"\n\nIn a daze, I stumbled out of his office, signed the paperwork Jenny thrust in front of me, and went back to my office.\nEventually, I managed to withdraw the remains of the ruined cigar from between my clenched teeth.\n\n---\n\nAnd that was the last time I ever covered for Billings when he went home early." ]	2
Something a little more lighthearted about living forever.	[WP] Write a story that focuses more on the positive aspects of immortality.	[ "I saw the tree I planted in 1665 grow, change with the seasons, and get cut down. I got to see the world change and blossom. I was the creator of the first meme. The world has changed so much since 1656. That was the year I was born. I saw the Extra-Terrestrial Peace Exchange back in 2158. I was there when people migrated to Mars and then to Pluto and then to an entirely new galaxy. We met over 100 species of aliens and we befriended some and fought wars with others. More than one thousand years after I was born I met another person like me and we fell in love and had kids. To my surprise the genes hereditary. My wife, my kids, and me traveling the universe seeing the sights and watching new civilizations emerge from the ashes of the old. I will be here when everything ends.", "Sometimes the plans we make don't turn out the way we expect. \"The best laid plans of mice and men...\"\n\nI don't actually know how the quote ends, the rest was lost to me somewhere along the line. I've tried to keep hold of the most important things, and to track time. Writing things down has helped, though there are gaps, presumably from fires, disasters, or attacks. I remember my name. Kate. I say it to myself each day, so I can't forget, so it stays a memory rather than a record. \n\nYou see, the human brain wasn't built for forever. After the Change, I made it some time before I started to forget. It seems I can hold one hundred and seventy five years of memory, give or take. I'm not sure how much time I lost in the beginning, when my mind became muddled and confused. All I remember is that the world was once very different, and that I am Kate. \n\nI've started keeping star charts. The way things change over time lets me give a firm date to the present moment. I don't know how long I wandered before I made my first chart (I carve them in stone so they'all last). What I do know is that since I made that first chart, one hundred thousand years had passed. \n\nI've done a lot of experimenting to figure out the nature of the Change. It turns out that I am Forever because I heal. The other animals and even the trees get old and die, but my wounds heal quicker than theirs, and I suspect that this prevents me from wearing out. \n\nI spend most of my time alone. From what I can gather, it appears that some one hundred thousand and three years ago, the world was bathed in a cataclysm of fire. I have no memories of before that time, but the records I save and carry indicate that I was able to salvage a great deal of information from the desolation. About Humans, and what it meant to be one. About what it means to be Last. \n\nMy logs state that after I awoke from the devastation I spent over a thousand years wandering the globe. As I went, I carved the stars in stone. My wandering stopped when I stumbled, by chance, on my own first carving, my signed name confirming the reality to disbelieving eyes. \n\nIt's not such a bad life. One hundred odd years isn't nearly enough to grow tired of nature's beauty, of experimenting with different foods, creating music, carving on the stone. If I have walked these woods before, I know them only through the words of a stranger long faded away. \n\nI said I spend most of my time alone. Perhaps spent would be more accurate. You see – and this brings me to why I write this log in such length and detail, despite the difficulty in carving fine text into the marble – I have found... something. Someone is perhaps too strong a word. \n\nThey aren't like me. Not like what the records say my People once were. But they are close. \n\nOne of my last selves was obsessed with the origins of things. Thanks to that Kate, I know that all species change with time, pulse in and sometimes out like the tide. \n\nThese creatures... they have something like a language, and work simple tools. I think they are what's left us Us. Or what We left behind. \n\nI've learned to speak their tongue, such as it is. I practice it every day, so that it remains a memory rather than a record. They have no words for time beyond the cycle of seasons and birth – certainly they seem incapable of understanding Forever. I try to teach them things. They are slow to learn, but sometimes I see progress. They were all very excited about my way of making knives from stone. \n\nThey are slow to learn. But I am patient. \n\nMy mind can hold somewhere over one hundred years of memory. Enough to do a great many things. Each night and each morning, I recite to myself what I suppose you could call a Prayer. A litany. \n\nI speak my name, Kate. \nName the seven continents. \nA few key words and concepts. \nLove. Friendship. Courage. Birth. Marriage. Death. \nFrom memory, the greatest discoveries we made in the Time Before. Each element on the table, the numbers and symbols that lie Beneath the world. The structure of the cells that make up our bodies, the materials to seek for crafting and shaping. For making thinking machines. I name the companions we made for ourselves. Dog. Cat. Where they are now I know not, but my Memory says they were taken from the wild. Perhaps they can be again. \n\nEven five hundred years of memory would not be enough to learn all the skills that build the wonders of the Time Before. But I carry the blueprints, and each day has its fresh surprises, marching in endless sequence. \n\nPerhaps by the time I look on these as the words of a stranger, another pair of eyes will keep me company. \n\n– Kate, the Last" ]	2
	[WP] You awake in a cornfield in the middle of the night. A flashlight is on the ground in front of you. A note lies underneath the flashlight. It simply states: "You are being hunted".	[ "Immediately she shut off the flashlight her mind reeling with what she had just read. \"What the hell!\" She tried to think how she arrived here and more importantly where this was. \"RUN\", everything inside her screamed, but where and to what end? Her heart was pounding, her hair was matted with blood, the sweat was pouring, her mind was going in ten directions at once.\n\n\"FOCUS\", her mind yelled, she looked around but could see only blackness on this moonless night. Still clutching the flashlight Karen cautiously move into a crouch and begin to take stock of the situation. Checking around she sees that she has been left with nothing but the flashlight and piece of paper, or so someone thought.\n\n\"WEAPON\", her brain screamed, \"PROTECT YOURSELF!\" she began to slip off her shoes and hosiery from her feet. Taking the batteries out of what turned out to be a pretty nice mag light she put them into the hosiery and ties knots in the ends. A handy mace of sorts. \"PEBBLES\" her brain shouted, she noticed he was crouching on pebble filled soil, \"poor for crops\" her mind whispered, \"FILL THE FLASHLIGHT\" commanded her brain. Feeling along the ground she fills the mag light to increase its weight. \"THREE\", she now has three weapons, \"CLOSE CONTACT\", its going to be tricky.\n\nSilence, save for a few crickets, was broken by the crack of a cornstalk and some laughter off in the distance. Whipping her head around Karen pinpoints the direction the noise had come from. \"TWO OF THEM,\", her mind cautioned. \"CARELESS, COMING THIS WAY,\" heart rate pounding, \"they're are not expecting you to be here\" her mind whispered, \"they figure you ran.\" \"Breath, calm down!\"\n\nPop, another stalk, this time from the West, noises, moving faster, getting closer now. She's adjusting to the darkness, her senses are tuning into the sounds of the night, her heart rate is slowing. The profuse sweating is subsiding.\n\n\"THINK,\" her brain commanded. Her last memory was that of leaving the party, she finished her drink and left, of that she was sure. She was waiting for the valet, \"that's right, the valet.\" Older than one would expect, \"the way he carried himself,\" memories returning now. Karen was getting into the car, \"someone is inside the car,\" before she could react she saw the movement in the backseat and that's when things went black, her next memories were of waking here.\n\n\"My so called partners! I bet anything that's whose behind this\" Karen thought. Crack, pop, another stalk, Southwest, more laughter, louder this time. One of them is starting to flank, \"how long have I been conscious, two minutes, three?\"\n\n\"Stay put,\" her mind whispered. Removing her blouse she tied it into a sack of sorts and began to fill it with corn, \"distract them and strike.\" \"They're closing in, they don't expect you to still be here.\"\n\nCould her partners be so greedy, so inhumane, if they wanted her out of the way why not take over the company with a shareholders vote of no confidence? Crack, more laughter, quieter now, \"they're closing in, noisy amateurs.\" \"This may not be so hard after all.\"\n\nCrouching, holding the pantyhose full of batteries, Karen waited for what seemed like an eternity. Finally another crack, no laughter, \"BEHIND YOU, NOT AMATEURS AFTER ALL,\" a flash of light followed by blackness. Waking again she's laying in the corn field with a flashlight and a note saying \"you're being hunted.\" Karen began to cry. \n", "My tongue feels like sandpaper against the inside of my mouth. Temples are pounding. I open my eyes to the clear night sky.\n\n\"Ugh, another blackout,\" I say to myself, the smell of bourbon and vomit linger in the air after I open my mouth.\n\nI pull out a pack of American Spirit Lights, and fish my zippo out of my pocket. Taking a long haul off of the cigarette I exhale a large cloud of smoke into the air.\n\n\"Ahh, that's that's the stuff,\" I say, thinking after a few more of these I'll be right in no time.\n\nI notice a flashlight laying a few yards in front of me. Thinking it was unusual I had the foresight to bring it to this random corn field that I passed out in. I shuffle to my feet and pick up the flashlight. A note is taped to the back of it. Having just watched an old unreturned Blockbuster VHS of Memento the other night I figure I had set myself up for a little adventure.\n\n\"Randy, you old dog you,\" I say, thinking about what an incorrigible scamp I am.\n\nThe note isn't in my handwriting. It simply says \"You are being hunted\".\n\n\"What the fuck kind of shit is this?\" I say angrily as I crumple up the paper and throw on the ground. \n\nLighting up another cigarette I begin to walk towards where I assume the road is. \n\n\"I'm being hunted, yeah right bro, if anyone's doing the hunting it's me god damn it!\" I say with an odd amount of self confidence. \n\ni walk for what feels like an hour when I see a fire burning in the distance. Hesitant to approach since I just read a pretty damning letter I decide to scope it out from a distance. Another out of character decision. 9 times out of 10 I would of abruptly ran towards the campfire and for sure ruined whatever pleasant evening the campers were currently having. Instead I walk around the perimeter of the campfire, and begin to crawl through a thick patch of bushes to get a good look at what was going on.\n\nAs I crawl I decide to rub mud all over my body as a disguise. Not wanting to ruin my killer leather Chicago Bulls Starter jacket I remove it, and fold it neatly and place it on a rock. Fully coated in mud I get to a vantage point where I can see 3 men sitting around a fire. They are drinking beer, eating potato chips and all have rifles sitting next them. One of the guys has a Kirkland brand outdoor lounge chair with a built in cooler under the seat. Looks super comfy. \n\n\"How long you think that there city boy is gonna be passed out?\" One man says to another. \n\n\"From the looks of him when we picked him up outside of the peeler bar, id say sun up,\" another said.\n\n\"He was pretty god damn wrecked,\" the third man chimed in.\n\n\"This ain't gonna be no good hunt boys,\" the first man said. \"That piece of shit is gonna wake up feelin' like a pile of wet old garbage and will likely welcome my .22 in his face.\"\n\nThe 3 men erupt in laughter. Thinking I wasn't going to go down like this, I needed to come up with a plan. I light up another cigarette. I tastes so god damn good I let out a long sensual groan just like I'd splooged all over my jeans.\n\n\"You hear something fellas?\" One of the men say.\n\n\"You smell that?\" Said another.\n\nRemembering the movie Surviving the Game starring Ice T, I leave my lit cigarette on a rock and crawl to a nearby spot where I can remain concealed.\n\n\"Warren, lets you and I go check it out.\" One of them say.\n\n2 of the men get up and walk towards where I left my cigarette burning. I think to myself that it would be a bizarre turn of events if they were just sneaking off to make carnal love to each other while the other man stays by the fire eating his bag of chips. I can't help but snicker. \n\nThe 2 men seem to be gone a while, so I begin to think my earlier assumption was correct and we had a couple of marathon boys on our hands. Just then the 3rd man stands up by the fire. On pure instinct I run out of the bushes and push him into the campfire.\n\nHorrible screams fill the night air. For some reason the guy doesn't attempt to stand up. Just lays in the fire, taking its unrelenting heat. \n\nThe two other men come running back towards the campfire. One of them was buckling up his pants. I knew it.\n\n\"Carlito, get out of the fire!\" Warren screams.\n\n\"It burns muchachos!\" Carlitos yells.\n\nI think my mud camouflage is working because the other 2 men don't notice me. Maybe because they are preoccupied with their friend laying in a campfire burning up something fierce.\n\nBefore they take notice of me I take a running start and give Warren some sweet chin music. I've been studying Shawn Michaels moves in the squared circle for years as apart of my PHD studies at the University of Phoenix. I make a solid connection. Pretty confident Warren will be drinking the remainder of his meals.\n\n\"Holy fuck!\" Yells the last remaining hunter.\n\n\"You country bumpkins picked the wrong motherfucker to hunt baby!\" I say at the top of my lungs.\n\n\"We was just foolin' boy,\" he pleads. \"I stock shelves at Target. I'm don't hunt people for sport.\"\n\nThe man begins weeping. \n\n\"If your boys weren't fucked up, would you still be saying this bud?\" I say.\n\n\"Please, I have a family,\" he says putting his hands over his face.\n\nI decide to show mercy on this last son of a bitch. I'm really not sure where this burst of confidence and violence has come from. I sell insurance everyday. Get wicked drunk. Crank down to foxy babes online, and play a dickload of video games. I'm not the type of badass who when he finds out he's being hunted as the deadliest game, turns the tables and does the hunting. But here we are.\n\n\"Listen, I'll show you mercy.\" I say holding my hands out towards this man. \n\n\"Thank you. Thank you Jesus!\" He hollers.\n\nAs he bends over to fully commit to his shout outs to Jesus, I run up behind up and pull on the elastic band on his underwear. Executing the most vicious wedgie ever performed on an adult he screams uncontrollable. From the sound made when I ripped his underwear off I have to assume I ripped my his sack in half.\n\nNot wanting to wait around to see the damage to his sack I take off in a full\nsprint through the corn field until I eventually find a road. \n\nWhen I reach the road I realize I forgot my Bulls jacket in the woods. Steamed beyond belief I begin jumping up and down in the street like a child throwing a temper tantrum at the grocery store. \n\nThinking of all the babes that jacket had brought me over the years.\nOnce told a chick at Burger King that Scottie Pippen was my uncle, and was coming by my apartment that night if she wanted to come over. Instead of Scottie Pippen, she got my Whopper. Had it her way though. Perfectly seasoned. Sesame buns.", "The night pressed around me as I came to. I felt foggy, like a bathroom right after a long shower. A warm, fuzzy feeling, which vanished without a trace into the emptiness around me as the click of the flashlight startled me from my stupor. It lay on the ground, lifeless, daring me to advance, to examine it, to discover whatever secret it must be hiding. As I reached out to pick it up, a small slip of paper caught my attention. It was perfectly centered in the beam of light, and it was so small I could not make out the words. As I brought the flashlight and the paper closer to my face, the neatly typeset words whispered their message at me from all sides. \n\n>\"You are being hunted.\"\n\nHunted. My every sense sharpened. Hunted. My hair stood on end. Hunted. Every tiny disturbance in the air, every rustle of the thick corn plants, every ripple in the blackness which surrounded me, was suddenly deafening. The flashlight, which had been my staunchest ally, suddenly seemed more like a beacon of fear than one of hope. If whoever had left this note had meant to frighten me, they had certainly succeeded. \n\nI stood there, petrified, dreading whatever was to come, for the longest five seconds which I have ever lived. I would have gone on like that, rooted in place by that inescapable fear of the unknown, but the note whispered to me again, from all sides in its neatly typed voice. \n\n>\"Run now.\"\n\nAnd I ran. But before my feet could make any headway against the tremendous apprehension which filled my mind, a laugh like chains being dragged along a steel grate rang out from behind me, and the decision of whether or not to run was taken out of my hands entirely. I could not see him, but I knew the grim man who filled my vision. His long black robe trailed in the dust, but wherever it touched, the plants withered and died. His scythe slowly raised towards me, and he spoke in a low voice, raspy, like an old parchment which had long since crinkled and been thrown out but was still barely legible. \n\n>\"Too late, old man. You cannot save him.\n\nThe typewritten voice was choked with tears as Death took me away, away from the cornfield, away from the flashlight, away from the warnings, away from the fear. \n", "Tall cornfield grow stood in rigid paths, playing the part of a natural maze wall. Squishing knuckles through mud, I pushed my balled fist to the surface and uncurled each finger. The same words had been etched into my hand, still a furious scar that made sense under a looming crop light. You're being hunted. The nightmare always started this way, soon he'd come charging around the corner chainsaw in hand. \n\nThe gurgle of a chainsaw sounded from behind. It sputtered once, twice, and then revved into a shuddering whine. My heart thudded, drowning out sound and making it hard to follow the chainsaw's movement. \n\nThe masked man stepped onto the path to my right, seven corn down --it was always seven. I scrambled up, trying to unplug my legs from the soil. He'd never chased me from the right-hand side before, south was the norm. Only this time, leaving my feet submerged long enough had affected the dream --as I'd anticipated. Little changes here and there always affected the outcome. \n\nMy muscles strained against clay-like mud, each crack relieving some pressure. The chainsaw man started toward me in slow calculated steps. \"Don't do this,\" I said, \"we can talk this out!\" \n\nHe swung the chainsaw left and right, sending skewered branches to the floor. My first leg burst through the top layer, followed by a left caked in mud. The chainsaw man lunged forward. I dodge rolled in time to catch the throaty grind of the blade cutting dirt. Particles shot onto my cheeks and clothing, I scrambled away in the hopes that he'd be distracted long enough. \n\nBursting onto my feet, I glanced back at the man, catching his familiar blue eyes and then darting in the opposite direction. The grinding was replaced with the endless whine. I ducked down in a thick outcrop of corn, covering my mouth with a hand and breathing out in labored gasps. As the sound became louder, I scanned the pathways around me, trying to catch the silver blade or white mask. The chainsaw sound disappeared, leaving me in eerie silence. \n\n\"I'll talk little girl,\" the person said from somewhere nearby. It was high-pitched, soft, in fact, I could have sworn it was a woman. \n\nBoots crunching soil grew louder. \"Your time to accept my offer is running out.\" \n\nThis was the furthest I'd ever gotten and to make matters worse I knew that voice from somewhere. My hands shook as I stood, despite my willing them to stop. I knew I was in a dream, a nightmare, but that didn't make the stark reality of the situation any less concerning. However, running a finger over my palm reminded me why I was here: the hunt. \n\nMy mouth may as well have been filled with sand with the dry texture of my tongue. I swallowed hard and gathered my wits. \"Tell me why I'm being hunted.\" \n\nThe chainsaw woman stepped into the path in front, with the weapon held high. She smiled and used a gloved hand to beckon me forward. \n", "I woke up one night in the middle of a cornfield. Nothing but corn all around me save for a flashlight and a note underneath it. I pick up the flashlight and shine the light on the note. It reads: \"You're being hunted.\"\n\n\"Yeah fuck this.\" I say as I reach for my phone expecting it to not be there. Surprisingly it was exactly where I left it. I pull it out and check the rest of my pockets. Everything was there.\n\n\"Yo, Whoever's doing this shit is either an amateur or an idiot. I'm just saying.\" I say loudly hoping that whoever was doing this would hear. I unlock my phone and open Google Maps. It loads. \n\n\"Yo, you picked a spot that actually has signal jackass.\" I exclaim as I realize I'm somewhere in Texas. \n\n\"Of course it's fucking Texas.\" I say to myself as I call an Uber. Surprisingly one was coming to exactly where I was. Just a half a mile north from where I was standing. It said that it would be here in just about 15 minutes. I start walking towards the road where it would come when I hear something moving near me. \n\n\"Yo, you know I can hear you right?\" I exclaim in the direction of the sound. I wait a few seconds before adding \"I'm getting an Uber out of here, you can come with me if you want. We can put this whole thing behind us and I can give you a few pointers.\"\n\nA few seconds pass, about half a minute, before a figure calls back: \"Man the fuck is wrong with you? You just had to ruin this didn't you?\" \n\nThe voice was super sassy and shockingly not southern. I wait around for a while before replying: \"The Uber gets here in about 10 minutes, you wanna split the ride or not?\"\n\nA few seconds pass before the voice responds: \"Ah fuck it,\" he says as a black man, not much older than myself, walks out of the corns and into my field of vision. He's wearing simple camo gear, most likely military. Other than. Thanks he had a rifle, a few clips, and a large knife in him. \n\nAs I lay eyes on him I say, \"huh,\" and before I get a chance to finish my thought he says: \"what? Never seen a black man before?\"\n\n\"No not that,\" I say with a smile on my face, \"It's just I'm brown and so I was just expecting some KKK kinda guy is all.\"\n\nHe chuckles and we head over to Uber, as we introduce each other. Over the Uber ride we got to know each other really well. That when I first met Carlos. He had just recently retired from the army and was looking for some thrills. Just like I thought he was an amateur at this and just used the dark web to randomly order someone. As a pro I felt sympathetic towards him and I gave him a few pointers. We've good pals ever since and hunt together about twice a year, sometimes more, we only stopped recently because our old age was getting to us. ", "The smell of earth was what woke me. It was a cool, late summer night. The stars were sparkling brightly, the stalks of corn around me blocking some of the night sky. I jolted to a sitting position, this is not where I last remembered myself. I knew I was last in a bar with Mitch, Phoebe and Tucker, then ... nothing. Did I black out? If I had where were my friends. My foot kicked something hard which made me jump. I swept the ground with my hand until I came into contact with the object. A flashlight and something else. I grab both and flick on the flashlight. What was under it was a note which stated:\n\n\nYou are being Hunted\n\n\nI frowned, not sure what that meant. I folded it back up and stuffed it into my pocket. Sweeping the flashlight around, I took stock of my surroundings. I had no idea where I was put and with a quick check, no phone either. My hand came back a little wet so I checked it with the flashlight. My heart skipped when I saw the gleaming red of blood. The slight sting on my lower back made me realize I was hurt. Panic started to claw its way up my throat. The hairs on the back of my neck bristled when I heard movement behind me.\n\n\n\"Hey! Who's out there?\" I called. I was answered with a gunshot. I dropped to the ground and crawled away from the sounds. Scrabbling to my feet, I ran as fast as I could through the corn field. I eventually staggered out into an open field, the darkness almost solid. I looked up, wondering where the moon was. I saw the dark circular shape of a new moon and felt a tremor pulse through me. I could hear those who had shot at me getting closer but I was rooted to the spot. Then the change happened.\n\n\nHave you ever felt like your whole body was on fire and every muscle wanted to rip itself from your bones? That was how I was feeling at that moment. A painful roar tore itself from my throat and I could hear voices coming closer. But the pain of changing was nothing compared to the hunger I felt, hot and desperate. I focused my gaze down. Down? I must have grown some. The people who were chasing me were standing just inside the corn.\n\n\n\"Shit, we're too late!\" One of them said, a hefty male in a red plaid shirt and faded jeans.\n\n\n\"This ain't no werewolf! Fuckers lied about this hunt.\" His partner, a scraggly man holding a shotgun, said staring up at me.\n\n\nI could smell their fear. I looked down at my clenching and un-clenching hands. They were large and the claws slipped easily in and out of their sheaths. The fur that covered them was as black as the night surrounding us. Something in the back of my mind that was still human recalled something in one of the many role playing games I had done. I yowled as the scraggly man shot me, it hurt, but the pain subsided quickly.\n\n\n\"Silver don't work?!\" The hefty man balked as the silver pellets fell from my black furred chest like little raindrops.\n\n\n\"Need gold for werecats.\" My voice growled as I snarled at them. That night I feasted alone on the two.", "I awoke with the likes of a really bad hang over which I hadn't felt since St. Patrick's Day. Sitting up, I realized it was still night, but nobody was around nor did I see my friend's barn. As a minor, underaged drinking could ruin my scholarship, so I must have fled in a drunken stupor. I felt a bump which turned out to be a flashlight and some paper... \"You're being hunted.\" I freaked out for a minute, but thought \"Must just be a prank.\" Then crumpled the paper and dropped it.\n\n\"Ed? Sully? Martha?\" I waited out to no response. Where'd they go?\n\nIt was then the pieces started to connect. My friend's dad grew soybeans, not the corn I was surrounded by, the night sky was way too clear to be close to any city, and there was nobody or signal anywhere. It was then I got very worried. Then a rustling behind. \n\n\"Most likely birds or mice.\"\n\nContinuing north, I hoped to run into a highway or a dirt road that lead to a house. Then the rustling continued.\n\n\"Hmm. I dare you.\"\n\nI've killed many bobcats before, but none by hand. But I was a brash 17-year-old with a heavy flashlight. I could take care of it if I just got it's neck... Easier if was just a coyote. \n\nIt seemed like days, but the night never ended. I kept at it until I stumbled on a small patch where it seemed something was sleeping earlier. De ja vu set in... In the middle was a wad of paper.\n\n~~You're being hunted\"~~ \"Wrong way\"\n\nLooking up, I saw the path I took earlier. \"Impossible. I only went North?\"\n\nThe rustling came back loudly, only to reveal that another person stumbled on the same site. It was... me?\n\nThe other me held a shotgun and a note in his hand.\n\n\"I'm sorry, but I have to.\"\n\nThe clone crumpled the paper then dropped it. The click of the safety turned on sounded and the night turned permanent." ]	7

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