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[WP] You are a salesman, today you are tasked with the hardest sell of your life: socks for dogs.
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"Mr. Bateman, the dour, moody, wealthy, impatient owner of Sales Force Plus, walked into the office of his lower associate, Charles, the companies number one sales guy. The office was filthy, covered with empty pain cans, and dirty denim jackets and jeans, and empty tuna cans, and general disarray and dirt.\n\n“I’ve got a new one for you Charles.” Mr. Bateman said, stepping carefully through the filth, afraid to ruin his expensive calfskin shoes.\n\nCharles looked up from his desk. He was disheveled, and his hair a characteristic mess. A can of half empty paint sat at his desk, and flecks of the noxious substance were splattered on the corner of his mouth.\n\n“What’s that?” Charles asked, his eyes unfocused as he stared past Mr. Bateman to whatever specter haunted his mind at the moment.\n\n“A new product. It’s got the potential to blow up as much as Kitten Mittens did, but it needs your special touch.” Mr. Bateman said, laying down a dossier in front of Charles.\n\n“Oh yeah … Kitten Mittens. Right on! We still selling those?” Charles asked, a large, open grin on his face as he bobbed his head. Kitten Mittens had been his brain child, and it netted the company millions.\n\nWith disbelief, Mr. Bateman frowned, and stared with contempt down at Charles. The little man repulsed him, but what could he do. Charles was the company’s biggest earner. He was a natural salesman, and a necessary evil if the company wanted to continue its record breaking profits. Mr. Bateman scowled, and swallowed his pride. A large bonus was riding on the success of this new product.\n\n“It’s like Kitten Mittens, but for dogs. We’re talking about Dog Socks here.” Mr. Bateman said as Charles opened up the dossier in front of him.\n\n“Dog Socks huh?” Charles said to himself, his mind stitching itself back together, and focusing on the task at hand. He sniffed, and flipped through the many pages of the folder, doing his best to pretend to read its contents.\n\n“And .. what would these so called, “Dog Socks”, do in fact?” Charles asked, looking up from the folder, and closing it abruptly. He knew there were words written inside of the dossier, but their meanings, their trickery and their insidious messages, still eluded him.\n\n“They’re socks.” Mr. Bateman said with spite, and venom filling his words. “For dogs. Dog Socks.”\n\n“All right … all right.” Charles said to himself, running a dirty hand through his greasy hair. “Dog socks. Yeah I can work with that.”\n\nCharles stood from his desk, and paced around the filth of the room. Mr. Bateman was quiet, and watched Charles pace, wondering how this madman was going to spin it this time, how this idiot savant was going to pull brilliance out from the very depths of his trash and garbage filled mind.\n\n“So what do you think?” Mr. Bateman asked after Charles had paced for several minutes, breaking the silence of the room.\n\nCharles snapped his head up, wide eyed, and glared at Mr. Bateman.\n\n“What’re you still doing here?” He asked, alarmed.\n\n“Why I’m just—“\n\n“No. Shoo shoo!” Charles yelled, waving his arms in the air. “I must contemplate in silence.”\n\nMr. Bateman was chased out of Charles’ office amidst screams and shouts and yells of needing space and peace and quiet. The door slammed shut behind Mr. Bateman, and the business man shook his head, muttering to himself.\n\n“That idiot better not muck this up. I need that bonus for the down payment on my new yacht.”\n\nWalking down the hall, scowling, Mr. Bateman vowed to check up on Charles in a few hours. He refused to let that maniac work unchecked for too long. The last time he left Charles unsupervised, the manila ordered three hundred pounds of dog food on the company credit card.\n\n***\n\nOpening the door to Charles’ office, Mr. Bateman walked into the room, and he gasped in surprise and disbelief. Charles was crouched on top of his desk, naked, covered in spray paint and glue. Across the walls of his office, hundreds of thousands of words were scrawled out in shaky handwriting in blood and paint and pen and pencil and spittle. The words were attempts at wordplay, attempts at satire, different combinations of Dog Socks, a way to rewrite the name to better rhyme.\n\n“Pupper Slippers … Doggie Rockies … Shepherd Socks … Labrador Loafers … Rottweiler Rockers …” Charles muttered to himself, clutching the sides of his head, his eyes wide and in pain.\n\n“Ch-Charles … what’re you doing?” Mr. Bateman asked, concerned, taking a step forward and raising up a hand.\n\nCharles whirled his head around, and hissed at Mr. Bateman.\n\n“Don’t you see! Kitten Mittens worked because it Rhymed! But this. But this!” Charles yelled, sweeping his hands around to showcase the room’s walls. “This doesn’t rhyme! Dog doesn’t work! It Doesn’t Work!!”\n\nMr. Bateman took a step back, horrified, unprepared for this spectacle of insanity.\n\n“What! You don’t believe me!” Charles yelled, hopping around crouched on his desk. “Woofer Socks! Schnauzer Slips! Dachshund Diggers! Donatello Didgeridoos!!”\n\nWith a great rush of anxious energy, of insanity and pain, Charles leapt down from the desk and straightened up, naked and mad and undone.\n\n“It Doesn’t Work! Kitten Mittens! Kitten Mittens!” Charles screamed, running towards Mr. Bateman, his arms waving above his head. “Dog Socks Doesn’t Work! Dog Socks! Dog Socks! Dog Socks!” He yelled.\n\nMr. Bateman turned, and retreated down the hall. Charles chased behind, naked and mad and raving, screaming out “Dog Socks!’ over and over and over and over again.\n\n***\n\nEventually reaching the security desk, Mr. Bateman had Charles escorted off the premises, and promptly fired the rather eccentric salesman. Going with his gut instinct, Mr. Bateman went ahead with ‘Dog Socks’ and watched in terror as the product refused to sell, and Mr. Bateman watched their profits tumble, and cried quietly to himself in his office as his dreams of a brand new yacht disappeared from his future, and from his mind.\n\nAccording to reviews, people didn’t like the product because it sounded weird. Instead, they were buying even more Kitten Mittens, and giving the mittens to their dogs.\n\nAt night, as Mr. Bateman lay awake, he thought about the disaster, and thought about the madness of Charles. And then he would get up, the bedsprings squeaking, and he would go to his study. He would pour himself a glass of scotch, and stare at the walls, and drink slowly throughout the night, his mind chasing the idea that maybe he was the crazy one, and Charles had been sane all along."
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[WP] During the first manned Mars mission, you and the other astronauts discover that, much like Superman's kryptonite, the human metabolism is severly weakened in proximity to one of Earth's most common mineral. This doesn't apply to you anymore.
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"\"It's the iron,\" she told me. \"It's like the way an MRI works.\"\n\nWe were walking barefoot in the Martian regolith, and she was reading from her clipboard.\n\n\"The iron in your haemoglobin came from Earth,\" she explained. \"It had been imbued with paramagnetism by Earth's magnetic field.\"\n\n\"So what?\" I asked.\n\nI had taken off my shirt because the sun was so nice, and Dr Park and I had already seen each other naked on the space-trip.\n\n\"So, that paragmagnetism had an effect,\" she told me while she glanced at my abs. \"Your haemoglobin took in 4 oxygen molecules - only. But now your haemoglobin takes in more.\"\n\n\"Because of the iron?\"\n\n\"Exactly,\" she explained. \"Mars has a weak magnetic field. And the iron you've slowly ingested from the regolith here allows your haemoglobin to bind more loosely. You can breathe either oxygen or carbon-dioxide. The Martian atmosphere is 96% carbon-dioxide. And you take in 6 gaseous molecules instead of 4.\"\n\nI took Dr Park in my arms - even though she didn't need me to - and I sprang up on top of the 10-meter-high space-craft. The Xanadu. Its silver hull was shining from the sun, like I was walking across a beam of light to the hatch.\n\n\"You're really smart to have figured this out back on Earth,\" I told Dr Park. \"I could never have understood it until I got here. I just feel so much better here. And, if I may say, you're even more beautiful now than on Earth.\"\n\nDr Park blushed.\n\nI carried her down into the Xanadu's pleasure-room, where all the other scientists and doctors had their lingerie and stockings - when NASA realized how much Earth's iron was subduing people, they worried that men might become too violent on Mars. Too much energy. Except for me, the Xanadu's crew were all women.\n\n\"You're smarter than you give yourself credit for,\" said Dr Park as she slipped out of the bikini she had been wearing outside.\n\n\"Thank you.\"\n\nShe actually meant it - that was Dr Park, sweet like a kitten and wild like a tigress. But in truth, I was only an exotic male dancer on Earth. I was put on Xanadu because NASA realized the Martian iron would heighten the crew's sex-drive. \n\nMars was a world for pleasure."
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[WP] Tell me a story or poem about a man who is crippled but is still the deadliest gunslinger in the west.
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"\"Pull the other one,\" the drifter had scoffed, \"he's just a hobblin' cripple.\" That much was true. The man who had bumped into his stool was thin as a rail, with a brace clamped to one leg and a gaunt face that earned him the nickname 'Sad Sam.' Thin though he was, this vagrant could never have guessed that his meager bulk had a steel to it that would put the finest swordsmith to shame, sharpened to a razor's edge. The drifter gave him a little shove, and Sam stumbled back onto his good leg, the brace on the other creaking like an old door.\n\n\"Yer mommy give ye them for yer birthday or somethin'?\" the vagrant asked, gesturing to Sam's waist. Straddling each hip were his irons. Huge pieces that were almost comically large for his thin hands, but a keen observer would note that the handles were worn smooth on the grips.\n\n\"I won them,\" Sam replied in a quiet, almost deadly calm voice.\n\n\"An how'd ye do that? Win at the festival sacktoss?\" The vagrant snorted.\n\n\"No. But I can show you, if you'd like,\" Sam replied, pointedly turning his gaze out the batwing doors of the saloon to the road outside.\n\nThe vagrant cackled, and said \"Well if ye insist, it's probably best yer family buried ye sooner than later.\" With that, he snorted and spat onto the saloon floor and swaggered out to the road, hands already twitching near his gun belts. Sad Sam followed slowly, his brace creaking with each step. The two men squared off against each other on a cloudy Wednesday afternoon.\n\nOutside the the saloon a single shot thundered.\n\nA few moments later one man returned, creaking with each step."
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[WP] The goddess of love, falls in love.
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"I remember Rosie like this statue of a goddess, carved from marble and cursed with the spirit of life. Everything about her seemed like it was made from stone.\n\n/\n\nShe wasn't made of stone, like everybody said.\n\n/\n\nWe knew everybody by nicknames back then. All the people gettin on and off the boxcars every day, you can't keep track of Christian names. We called her Aphrodite.\n\n/\n\nThe thing I remember is her face. It was like a painting, or a statue or something, where you could gaze at it and admire it and it wouldn't even flinch. Never a smile, never a frown, never even a batted eyelash. The only way to tell she was real was by her eyes.\n\n/\n\nIt was the eyes that could get you. These playful brown eyes that pinpoint in on you and made you feel like the man. There was this time when she bent over and dropped her hair forward to straighten it, and then pulled it back, quick, and tied it into a ponytail, and she caught me watching, and then looked at me, pleased and playful, or proud I guess, and that image just burned into my memory. Years later and I still dream about it.\n\n/\n\nShe took my money. I was a dumb kid back then, but still.\n\n/\n\nCold as hell. Stay away from girls like that, man. Ice cold queen. Looks soft and pretty but it's all a trick. That girl is made of stone.\n\n/\n\nI let her take my car to see the ocean. Had to hoof it to work, but living with her was like that. She could convince you to do anything. Anyway, that's when she decided she was leaving. She said it all flat, like normal, but I could see in her eyes that she was hoping for something.\n\n/\n\nMet her on the cruise. She'd get us extra breakfast muffins from the waiters. I asked her about love and she laughed, like it was a joke. Then we stopped at Papua New Guinea. Just like that, I never saw her again.\n\n///\n \n*Scene #83 of /r/100scenes*",
"\"Awww, I love her so much!\" She shook her legs, hanging in the air. \n\"You can't be serious...\" The plump shape by her side said, annoyed. \n\"But look at her. Isn't she perfect? And those lips... And those eyes... Gorgeous...\" \n\"You're crazy.\" A sigh escaped his lips and he made himself more comfortable on the puffy cloud. \n\"I'm not! I just fell in love. What's wrong with that? I make people fall in love all the time!\" \n\"But you can't be in love with *her*.\" \n\"Why not?\" She was pouting. \n\"Oh come on V. ... That's your own reflection!\""
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[WP] You are a human/alien hybrid with two different families. One on Earth and the other in another galaxy. Neither side knows about the other as you try to live a normal life on Earth and maintain your secret. Until one day your galactic family decides to visit you on at your home.
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" I discovered the powers recently... I guess the powers themselves made me look like the people who raised me so I'd never find out I was adopted... but when I turned 24 and was upset with life that's when things changed. I was a loser, an ugly guy who didn't like my appearance but didn't care at that point. I found out it wasn't normal uncaring but it was the fact my true abilities were becoming unlocked. One night my skin felt... weird, I don't know how to explain it... just weird and I had a slight headache so I just went to sleep on my couch hoping the headache would go away. \n\n When I woke up the air was passing through me and I could feel it along with... everything on the planet. It was so overwhelming and when I looked down my clothes were cut in half and my skin was with my clothes also cut down the middle, I had a blue hologram look to my body and it was female shaped... it was like Cortana, I was freaking out. I went to run but realized I was floating about an inch off the ground, I was so scared at this moment and floated in front of the bathroom mirror. I looked exactly like Cortana to the point my face looked just like hers... I was sorta see through and thought I was some kind of ghost. \n\n When I got back to my skin on the couch I pulled it up and looked at it, it had a faint blue glow at the edges and this confused me so much. When I looked at my phone I saw only news about an alien showing up near Times Square on Reddit and on google... it was everywhere, the guy looked like a hologram too and had a dark blue appearance and was about twice as big as most people. He had shrunken down though and developed a fake skin asking where his child was, that when they were born they looked like their mother but their human form may shape to their parents form subconsciously to fit in better. \n\n I realized that was me and went outside, I was gonna open the door but I just went through it. I didn't even know what I could do so I just tried to fly higher and it worked, I figured I'd look for the guy and ask him questions. Next I flew to New York and landed next to the guy who was asking about me, he hugged me and said I was his child but it was odd so I backed away through his hug asking what was going on... and told him I just woke up and was like this. \n\n He said I must've grown accustomed to my life but said I'd probably felt like I wanted more in life and that I was meant for more. I told him he was right and asked if we could talk somewhere away from people, he nodded and teleported us to the moon. I saw the stars and tried to breath but he put his hand on my shoulder and told me I didn't need to breathe... which he was right, I could somehow talk too so I asked him what was going on.\n\n He said he was a celestial... basically an alien with universe bending abilities, nothing truly big since they'd maybe be able to bend a galaxy at most but they were way more powerful than humans. He said most didn't have strong emotions so I'd probably have less emotions due to the mixed DNA. I told him he was right and he became his true form again then told his story. \n\n I listened to it and he said how in the early 90's he had met a woman while he was in disguise and fell in love, he made a kid with her and unfortunately had to leave back to his home world which was 10x the size of earth and had to live with his family. There was basically a celestial for each color of the rainbow and they wanted to view the universe, his mission was earth and he had created me. It wasn't part of the mission but it also wasn't against the rules. \n\n I asked if the celestials were God and he said kind of but they didn't make most life... that was someone or something else which they didn't even know what made life or the universe. They basically have minor God like abilities like making copies of themselves, warping reality, immortality, total control of their body, knowing what was going on in the space of a galaxy... he knew where I was when I woke up but asked at Times Square so that I'd come to him. I asked why I was... like this and he was confused then realized I meant the gender. He told me that the body changes to fit in better, my subconscious had chosen the most comfortable form and that technically this true form didn't have \"parts\". \n\n He did say I could make a human form to live in that, when it dies though I become this form again. I asked if we could go back to earth and he told me to try to teleport so I did and we were in the middle of some woods near the high school I went to. He told me how to make a human form so I did that and felt the air hitting my skin and realized I was naked and freaked out then focused on clothing which appeared on me. I basically looked like a human Cortana now, I was wearing a black t-shirt, jeans, and converse along with my necklace my body had and a watch. The new parts on my human form felt odd but this whole situation was so it just added to it but not too much. \n\n I asked if he was gonna take over the planet and he closed his eyes in thought for a second then opened them, he said his name wasn't \"Ego\" and that he just wanted to meet his kid... he also added the movie he just saw was entertaining. He also assured me he didn't kill my birth mother... at least on purpose, basically humans can't birth celestials without dying and she accepted that... he also said I looked kind of like her... it was an odd compliment seeing as this form was so different form my... well not original but the one I lived with for 24 years. Though it was a nice compliment and it did make me feel good... odd but good. \n\n He spent the day with me and said I could stay here if I wanted then touched my forehead and I saw his home with my minds eye, he said I could teleport there whenever I wanted then left after giving humans a cleaner energy that couldn't be used as a weapon... the world was gonna get better. I went back to my parents and told them everything, they did say I was adopted but since I looked like them growing up they decided not to say anything. I said it was alright and decided to teleport to places I wanted to see, Japan first then Britain, luckily nobody realized I was the celestial woman from Times Square. \n\n It's been about a day now and life is amazing with these powers, I made an apartment in the middle of woods in England and that's where I play video games and stuff. I don't sleep anymore so I basically have fun, also all my stuff from my old apartment is there. I tried some... alone time in the human form and it was... I won't go into detail but it was way better than the little experience I had in my old body. I actually made Silent Hills real somehow, I just grabbed an empty disk and made it the game... it works just fine and I used a plot the game maker decided on when they were making it. It's been a fun day and tomorrow I'm planning on visiting the celestial planet... maybe I'll make a \"pac man statue and some weird shit\" while I'm there."
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[WP] You have the power to steal anything, be it physical or not, from someone and assign it to anyone, but you can only use it once. When you finally decided to use it for greed, you met someone who need something more than you do.
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"He says I can steal *anything*, and give it to *anyone*. He has been telling me that for ten years.\n\nOr maybe you can say I have been telling myself that for ten years. \n\nYou see, 'he' is my mirror reflection. I saw him ten years ago. It was the night my parents abandoned me. Every word they said is etched in my mind. I don't think I will ever be able to get them out of my head.\n\n\"Stay here, don't follow us. If you want to be a good boy, if you want us to like you, stay here.\"\n\nThen they walked off into the night, along the dark alley that never seemed to end. Or maybe it just seemed that way then because I had no glasses, even though the doctor told me I needed them. We couldn't afford it.\n\nI remember pacing up and down the alley for quite a long time, as I kept telling myself to be patient, so Mum and Dad would like me more. I feel silly now. How naive I was.\n\nThen I noticed a cracked mirror by the stacks of cardboard boxes. I thought it was weird then. I have walked up and down numerous times, yet I took so long to notice it. I picked it up and stared back at myself. I remember thinking, Mum would be pleased to have a 'new' mirror. Again, how silly of me.\n\n\"James.\"\n\nI stumbled a couple steps backwards, and I blinked twice. But no, I definitely heard and saw that correctly. My reflection was talking to me. \n\nMirror Me continued, \"James. Don't be silly, your parents are not coming back for you.\"\n\nOf course, twelve-year-old me didn't quite understand things. I stared back into the mirror. \"Why wouldn't they...,\"\n\n\"You are young, but as you grow older, you will come to realise that people lose important things all the time. As I speak to you now, millions of others are losing important things. Parents, in your case. Some people lose their family to diseases, some others may lose their eyesight, or hearing, or health. Or even trust, hope, faith. We deeply regret that you would have to carry on with your life alone.\"\n\nAs he spoke, a coin hovered above the mirror.\n\n\"Take it, James. This coin will allow you to steal something, *anything*, and give it to anyone. Just put the coin near your mouth, say what you want to steal, from whom, and who you want it to be given to. Remember, you can only do it *once*. I hope it will be of help.\"\n\n*Ping*! \n\nThe coin fell onto the broken mirror. I caught it just in time before it rolled away. \n\nI feel for my coin in my pocket, as I serve the couple their coffee and donuts. I have been carrying the coin around ever since. There were hundreds of times I felt tempted to use it. The cinnamon rolls from the bakery along the street where I begged for money. The little cardboard 'room' some older men built to keep themselves dry during the rainy nights. The thick wad of notes I saw in the purse of the lady in red stilettos. \n\nBut I never did use my coin. I knew the meaning, and value, of *anything* I want. Even on the hungry and cold nights, I knew there was something worth more than the hot taco I wanted so badly. And I was not about to get anything less than what I could get, even though at that time I did not know what I wanted yet.\n\nNow, however, I think I am close to using the coin and getting away from such a life once and for all.\n\nThe bakery's first customers arrive, and the Starbucks queue starts forming. I look through the glass windows of the cafe I managed to get a job at. \n\nThere he is. Gilbert Collins. Suit, briefcase, leather shoes, PP watch. \n\nFrom the moment I knew what I wanted to steal, I have been keeping a lookout for the perfect candidate. And this big fish, I have had my eyes on him for the past three months. In the mornings when he goes to work in the 30-storey building just across the road, in the afternoons when he comes out for lunch with colleagues at restaurants, in the evenings when he walks back home to the luxurious apartment just twenty minutes away from his office. This comes really close to the perfect life I have always dreamed of. \n\n*This is it. I am sure this is what I want. This will be enough to make up for everything. Parents that would rather leave me to fend for myself instead of having a harder life with me. Rich snobs that cast me dirty looks like I chose to be homeless. The kitchen staff who would rather throw out the leftover food than feed a dirty-looking pervert. Older, stronger men who would always take all the money I threw my dignity away for. All the ugliness of this world.*\n\nGilbert Collins crosses the road. Out of habit, I shout to my boss that I am going for a smoke.\n\n\"MAMAAAAA!! PAIN!!\"\n\nI look down to a little toddler crying. I did not even notice I had knocked into a little girl. Her big brown eyes start to water. She raises her arms out to a brunette woman, and her tummy peeks through her tiny pink shirt. She rubs her head, messing up her short curly hair.\n\n*Lol*. I turn away.\n\nAs the man disappears into the towering office building, I crouch behind a tree. \n\n\"Please, Ma, let me raise another twenty thousand and we can get you the surgery. I will borrow from whoever I can. Please just take your medication for now, *please*.\"\n\nCurious, I look behind my shoulder. A distressed man hangs up his phone. He looks at me, sighing. \"My mother thinks she will never be cured. She needs a kidney transplant. I have been saving up since they told me she may need a surgery someday. And now the perfect donor shows up, and I am still short of so much money. I am a horrible son.\"\n\nI nod, trying to look more sympathetic and sad than I actually am. I feel for my coin again.\n\nI have a job now. I am a waiter at a cafe. No education whatsoever, true, but I get by. I rent a small dark room. I share the house with three other people. A shady dealer, a bar girl, and an old man. Not *that* bad.\n\nBut I hate my life. I hate serving people coffee and cakes. They tip less than what I would, if I could afford to eat out. People are rude and seem to think they are superior beings to service providers. And I live in a bad neighbourhood. There is always theft and the whole place smells. Most importantly, I hate that I could have been better off if my selfish parents hadn't thought that I was not worth working harder and spending less. I hate that I might have had it better had anyone, *anyone*, extended just a little bit of kindness. I hate that I am the abandoned one, the poor one. I hate how I don't believe in good, or love, or family, anymore. I hate how I only have hatred left for the world.\n\n\"Why trouble yourself? Your mother is not worth it anyway. No one is worthy of anything.\"\n\nI hold the coin up to my lips.\n\n\"Gilbert Collins' entire life and assets. From Gilbert Collins, to me.\""
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[WP] The Alien is the ultimate predator in the universe, defeating every being that opposes it. But one day, heavy boots are heard and a metallic deep voice saying "Doom". It is a Doom Marine.
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"The shell hit the floor with a clatter.\n\nThe Xenomorph turned. What was this strange being that dared to challenge him? He would rip their skull from the spine and toss it away laughing. Extending his claws, he ran it along the metallic wall of the complex, carving scars into it. He snarled, and the extra set of teeth emerged with a roar. \n\nDoom Marine wasn't worried. Stowing his shotgun who knows where, he wanted to slowly upgrade his weapon during the fight. Loading an energy battery into his Argent pistol, he recalibrated the weapon and started firing. It burned dime-sized holes into into the Xenomorph, only resulting in irritating it. \n\nThis was not going to end well. The Xeno sprinted down the hallway, claws extended, and slashed at the Doom Marine. He was saved by only his shotgun blocking the blow, and fired five times, pelting the Xeno with molten buckshot. The Xeno grabbed the shotgun, pulled it away, and snapped it in two. Doom Marine punched him in the face and ran. \n\nXeno chased him through the complex, with intent to kill. Turning around a corner, he saw Doom Marine standing in front of a wall. He sprinted towards him, but Doom back flipped off the wall at the last second, holding an assault rifle. Still in the air, he fired into the Xeno's back, finally breaking through the near-impenetrable hide. \n\nAcid blood pooling on the floor, Xeno slashed his armor again and again, but barely dented it. Doom was tired by now, and wanted it over. He kicked Xeno off of him, pulled out a double barrel shotgun, and fired. He landed a few, Xeno landed a few, but neither made a difference.\n\nDoom intended to end it now. Right as Xeno jumped on him, he pulled the BFG 9000 trigger. The weapon disintegrated Xeno in an instant, leaving only his claw. \n\n\"One down. Time to get the Predator."
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Can be realistic, but feel free to write it in a fantasy or sci-fi setting if you want.
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[WP] During an official ceremony, a high-ranking military officer rips off his/her medal/award/decoration, throws it to the ground, and storms off.
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"The audience was split down the center aisle like a wedding. On one side, the dress grey-and-red of the Regular Military, seated, heads and shoulders in neat rows; quiet, only whispers passing from mouth to ear. On the other, the colorful cacophony of the civilian government: loud ambassador robes, the sashes and medallions of ministers, the green and piped jackets of Members Parliament, more subdued braids and wrist-comms of assistants and attaches, all mixed up in establishing presence and shaking the right hands and finding the correct seat. But the only thing that went across the center aisle was a suspicious glance, or a frown and a comment to a person sitting close.\n\n\"ALL RISE\"\n\nA gloved usher wearing a tailed blue jacket and thin braid -- a version of the more elaborate Presidential jacket with its longer tail and the wide sash -- came out with the Presidential Mace. \n\nEven six months ago he would have been followed by a military honor guard. But tensions were high. The usher stepped alone onto the stage, and placed the Mace in its waiting spot.\n\nThe Presidential Mace stood in its pedestal, dominating the center high-point of the dais on stage. The symbol of office, the symbol of state. Of late, a symbol of strife and a symbol of bloodshed. \n\nAnd then the man at the center of it all appeared on the stage: President Holbrook. The only serious candidate to escape assassination during the last election, which in and of itself seeded many conspiracy theories. There were still whispers, in the dark, about who was loyal to who, about who planted the bomb, who paid for the sniper's bullet; wondering if the government was transforming from democratic mandate to something more violent and sinister. The comparison to Rome's shift to Caesars' Empire was easy and often made.\n\nThe president made his remarks. We are gathered to honor a great man, his service commendable, all the things one was supposed to say when awarding the Hero's Star to the nation's highest general. \n\nGeneral Marcus rose from his seat at the center forward corner of the seating on the floor and came up the steps to the dais, which drew its fair share of odd looks. There where whispers about him, too. One of the bombs had been made with military explosives, after all. And his remark about being loyal to the \"legitimate\" government -- a loaded word during a political cycle when hardly anything was normal -- had everyone wondering where the General's chip would fall.\n\nMarcus reached his spot. Holbrook was pleased. Things *looked* like he intended them to: he was on the highest part of the stage with the brightest spotlight. The Mace, heavy and polished, stood next to him. The General, a step below.\n\n*This government is still over you, General. And I am the government.* He had said it to himself only. \n\nThe President moved on with the ceremony. From a box he produced the Hero's Star, and pinned it to the Generals' flawless dress greys.\n\nThe accolade was next. The President removed his gloves and, exercising the ceremonial right that was his alone, grasped the Mace with bare hands. He touched the globe of the Mace to the General's left shoulder and --\n\nRRRRRRRRMMMMMMMBBBBBBBBMM\n\nThe building vibrated from the not-too-distant shockwave. \n\nThe Mace hit the ground, having fallen from Holbrook's hands; the unusual noise had startled him. The President looked up to see the Ministers and Members and Ambassadors begin to panic. \n\nQuickly, the grey-and-reds moved. The President looked at them carefully. General's Stars and Colonel's Crossed Swords were on the uniforms but the faces were young and the reflexes were those of trained and practiced elite troops. The Great Hall would be under their control in but a few more moments. \n\nLooking down, now. The General had the Mace in his own bare hands. \n\n\"You dropped this,\" Marcus said to Holbrook. But instead of handing the Mace back to the President, General Marcus put it in its pedestal. A \"General\" who didn't look older than 25 came to Marcus's side.\n\nMarcus turned from the dais and took a step. He had much to do. But then a thought struck him, and he reached up to his chest and pulled off the Hero's Star. It clattered to the floor.\n\n*I am no hero today,* Marcus thought to himself. *But maybe a savior.*"
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[WP] Every mirror in the world hasn't ever shown the truth. You're the only person to know this fact...
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"I've always seen them. I used to talk about them a lot as a child, to my parents initially and then to my friends at school. \nImagination was a fun gift as a child! My parents humoured me for the longest time, but it quickly grew bland for my 5yo pals.\nThey don't do anything, these creatures, but they're everywhere. \nThe only place Ive never seen them is in my bedroom. And in mirrors, they don't seem to have a reflection. \nI suppose it was when I got to Secondary school that I knew for sure that I wasn't imagining them. Or that I was crazy. \nAfter a year of bullying because I told people about the creatures, I started trying to just ignore them. They don't DO anything, they're useless, they just stand there. Or at least they did back then. \n \nI'm not sure when it started, but I watched the videos on YouTube same as everyone else, I saw the strange things happening in the news. I just didn't put it together, these immovable creatures, and the ones in these foreign countries. \nPeople were dying. Armies were disappearing. One video that was online only briefly showed a tank trundling along between two glades and spontaneously compacting and exploding. Nobody believed the footage was real until it was removed."
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[WP] "Do you trust me?" "Not at all." "Smart girl."
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"“Do you trust me?” the man asked. The wind outside howled ominously, singing a dark melody. Rain percussed on the roof. His figure loomed menacingly, and the monstrous size of that man was apparent, though shrouded in dim light.\n\n“Not at all,” the girl spat. Blood spattered on the floor in front of her. Tears born of rage streamed down her cheeks; her mouth hung open, breathing clouds of condensation into the stale winter air. She twisted her bound wrists around, hoping to rip the rope apart with a stroke of pure luck, but to no avail. They dug into her skin like cold fire. The dark figure beyond the shadows chuckled. He found it amusing how much she was trying. She hung her head in surrender and sobbed silently, tears dripping onto her muddy clothes.\n\nThe man smirked. “Smart girl.” He walked into the dim light. It highlighted his gaunt face and sallow skin. His eyes were void, and if eyes were windows to the soul, the man appeared to have no trace of one. The funereal shade of his eyes seemed to hold no sympathy. He silently paced around the chair like a shark circling its prey. After a couple minutes, he crouched down in front of the girl, face dangerously close to hers.\n\n“I’m gon’ let you go now,” he said, breaking what seemed like an infinite silence. He liberated her wrists and ankles with a knife from his back pocket. For a few moments, she held her ground, unmoving. Her breath shook. She raised her hands to the light and observed her bruises and cuts, wincing. Without saying a word, she looked at the man, her eyes striking daggers.\n\n“I said I let you go,” the man repeated impatiently. “Go on, now.”\nHesitant, she slowly rose from the chair, squinting suspiciously at him. She seemed to question him with her unbreaking gaze, challenging his humanity. The girl began with backing away from the man slowly, eyes still locked untrustingly on the man. When it became apparent to her that he might not prevent her from leaving, she turned around and bolted for the barn’s wide door, heading towards the wilderness. \n\nHer ragged breath was dry in her lungs and mouth. She was pelted unforgivingly with the rain as she made her way up the hill—or tried to. The rain had slicked the mud into a slippery slope; she was sliding more than she was climbing. She grew desperate. Her hands scoured the ground for any roots, but was met with nothing more than grass.\n\nBack at the barn, the man had silently and patiently loaded his gun. He took his sweet time doing so, keeping both eyes focused on the girl’s desperate attempts to climb her way out of here. He smiled down at his gun, knowing full well that he had the upper hand. The man raised the gun to his face and took aim.\n\nAnd he waited. He was waiting for the girl to look back. He had never been so patient. The girl continued to struggle, but it was apparent that she didn’t have enough energy. He watched her jump. Any moment now, she was going to look back. He was sure of it. She stopped. The moment has come for the man to act. As she turned back, he pulled the trigger. The shot echoed deeply. It hit her and she fell limp onto the mud, landing in an almost sleep-like position. Much too innocent for what had just happened. \n\nThe man lowered his shotgun, taking in the moment. The air was cold, and the wind seemed to cry endlessly into the dark night. The smell of rain suddenly filled the barn; the man inhaled deeply, and let out a satisfied smile. \n\n“I love open season.”\n",
"\"Do you trust me?\" It asked, floating as a shroud of black mist, it cackled sinisterly, unbeknownst to me what horrors hid behind its veil of smoke. Its figure shrouded yet somewhat humanoid, its form slender and thin, it floated, a trail of black mist filled the gap where its leg would have been, a rush of air at every swift glide, burning embers filled the gaps where eyes would have been while bony and thin fingers fidgeted with each other, itching for horrors to commit.\n\n\"Not at all.\" I said calmly with emotionless eyes, unwilling to give the demon anything to work with. I eyed the creature which rose from its podium, I began to recall my very first demonic summon, I was young and inexperienced, tempted by promises of power and dreams fulfilled, mastery over my temptations meant power over demons, as much my own as well as the real deal, and a moments hesitation, a moment of lost concentration, loosening the noose around the leash meant the hounds would come for me.\n\n\"Smart girl.\" Said the creature with a chuckle, its slender fingers curled against its shadowy knuckles, its amber eyes thinned as to show intrigue. Being a Demonology master has always been a double edged sword, the more competent you seem, the more bloodthirsty your minions become.\n\n\"Enough 'Stalker', I am in need of your... adaptability.\" \n\n\"Ah yes, as you desire mistress,\" another sinister ghostly chuckle escaped the shadowy slender demon, my eyes narrowed, concern setting in. I began to worry that I had never handled a smart one before you and never one so sinister, I worried about it trying to get me to loosen my guard.\n\nI grabbed into my coat pocket and grabbed a picture, raising it up to the demon a couple paces in front of me. \"This girl has been taken by slave traders in the city, I need you to find her whereabouts and her captors, report back to me once you found them.\"\n\nThe demon flew towards me at an ungodly speed, it took all of my willpower not to take a step back. I held my breath with my arm still stretched out, the creatures amber eyes a hair's length away from my arm and the picture, it could lick my hand if it had a tongue to lick with.\n\n\"Oh how wonderful! My master seems to be of pure heart, wishing to use her power of evil for good, how bold, how sincere, how delightfully naive and sweet.\" The Demon said, a clear excitement filled its voice, I began to wish to have found another method, but it was too late to back down now, and I had to make it clear who was in control.\n\nI clenched my fist, the Demon began to give off an ungodly scream akin to a banshee, it's pitch high and otherworldly, excruciating pain filling every inch of its gaseous body.\n\n\"Do not forget who holds the leash, Demon.\" I said with sharp eyes, the Demon made a sound I would compare to a snarl, as it once more dashed in front of me, its face now an inch from mine.\n\n\"Oh I wouldn't dream of it, mistress.\" Another sinister chuckle escape its lips, as its form dissipated, turning into a puff of black smoke, floating away from me as one shapeless body of gas and crawling into the church vents.\n\nI let out a sigh of relief as I turned around and lit myself a cigarette, \"and now we wait.\""
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[WP] You visit a parallel universe where every organism on earth sees in a "bird's eye view" fashion. How has life and society evolved?
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"\"My God... It's all... Hats.\"\n\nWilliam looked out at time square. Everyone was naked except for eccentric hats, far beyond what any normal human would put on their head.\n\nWilliam, a life long tailor, couldn't live like this. He wasn't sure how to get back to his world, but he knew how to fix this. He stepped out in front of the bus at the last moment.\n\nCrash.\n\nHis body stuck to the underside of the bus, and while the whole city would smell him for months, nobody ever saw William again."
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[WP] Two strangers accidentally lock eyes at a restaurant and proceed to one up each other with progressively greater levels of crazy.
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"The two men stared each other down. Both a little past tipsy, neither one had been raised a quitter. They look you in the eye, you stare them back down until they look away.\n\nStepping forward, the man closer to the bar reaches out a hand, in a coldly \"polite\" gesture. \"Interesting choice, wearing a suit to the bar. Guess nobody told you you can relax around here.\"\n\nThe man in the suit steps forward, taking the other's hand in a firm handshake. \"Well, I figure I'll wear whatever I want when I come to inspect it. It's my bar. Nice bowling shirt. It suits you.\"\n\nTaken aback, the former reevaluates the suited man in front of him. \"You own the bar, hmm? Well, it's an ok bar. I'm just here because I wanted some variety...typically I go to a higher class bar. A man who makes good money can afford better service when he wants.\"\n\nThe man in the suit frowns. \"I know all about making good money. Believe me, I've worked hard and have plenty of money at my disposal. How else would I buy the bar?\"\n\nThe first man, taking another approach, says \"Well hard work is good, but, I prefer to do less work with higher pay. I'm *quite* well-educated. I have a masters in business management.\"\n\n\"Oh?\" Remarks the man in the suit, \"is that so. Well, I just so happen to have owned a university at one point.\"\n\n\"Oh yeah? Well my daughter is going to be a doctor, and make tons of money and be very successful.\"\n\n\"Well my daughter is already running a huge international company. She's very influential.\"\n\nAngered, now, the first says \"My son is going to be a local politician. He's going to change the world. And he'll definitely have the power to disrupt the flow of customers at this bar of yours. That is, *if* you actually own it.\"\n\nThe man in the suit replys, \"Yeah? Is that so? Well I'll just become a congressman then, and make sure his *local* government job chances get screwed.\n\nTaking another drink of his whiskey, the first man says \"Well FINE then, ill...I'll become a senator. I'll have lots of money, lots of power, and I'll screw with all your businesses and career. I'll do it all!\"\n\nDrunk as well, the suited man shouts \"YEAH? Well I'll become president. I'll be the most powerful man in the country! Believe me, I'll do it! I'll be the best president you've ever seen.\"\n\n\"Bullshit! I don't believe a word you've said! I'll become the queen of England before you become president!\"\n\n\"I'll take that bet! What's your name?\" Says the man in the suit.\n\n\"Tommy Jordan. Who the hell are you?\"\n\n\"Just you wait. I'll make this country great again. I'll be the best president you've ever seen. My name is Donald Trump.\""
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[WP] Write a story about a man who has been trained to hunt a certain mythological beast, but during his first assignment learns that literally everything is wrong.
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"She swung for his head; he barely dodged the blow.\n\n\"What the heck, man? You told me to be aggressive!\" Damian yelled.\n\n\"I said aggressive, not *mean*. Maybe I should have said 'assertive,'\" Chuck called back.\n\nDamian stood back and prepared his next move. His prey stared him down, eyes gleaming and fangs bared.\n\nHe feinted, she anticipated his real blow.\n\n\"God! How did she see that coming? You said they're simple-minded.\"\n\n\"What else did I tell you? They're not all the same! Rule 22.\"\n\n\"I can't remember all your stupid rules, Chuck. I need simple principles.\"\n\n\"Switch to gentle. Try taming her a little bit. Like a horse.\"\n\nDamian broke eye contact with the beast for a moment to shoot Chuck an incredulous look. \"Like a *what?*\"\n\n\"A freakin' horse, man, just try to get close to her.\"\n\nDamian edged his way closer to the beast. It hissed at him.\n\n\"I don't think she likes it.\"\n\n\"She likes it.\"\n\nWhen he was inches away, the creature snapped its eyes wide open and lunged. Damian scrambled back and avoided the teeth. \n\n\"You're really bad at this, Chuck. Have you ever successfully tamed one of these before?\"\n\n\"Um.\"\n\n\"Have you??\"\n\n\"Well, I've read a lot on the subject, and-\"\n\n\"You've *read* on the subject. Dear god. I can't believe I put my life in your hands like this. I'm doing this my way now.\"\n\n---\n\nDamian leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table.\n\n\"Look, I'm really sorry about the way I've been acting. It's just been a really stressful week at work, and I think it's made me a little crazy. Have I mentioned that you look lovely tonight? Absolutely riveting?\"\n\nSamantha blushed. \"I don't know where all this charm is coming from. But I'll take it.\"\n\nThe rest of the date went off without a hitch. \n\nAs he walked Samantha up to her apartment door, Damian made a mental note to punch Chuck in the crotch the next time he tried to give any advice on women."
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[WP] After being murdered, you start life again from the beginning; no matter what path you take in life, your killer always finds you.
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"Bang. One of the last things you remember is the loud noise of a gun going off, you can still feel a warm stream of blood sliding down your neck. You close your eyes and try to remember what happened seconds before the shoot. Nothing, no matter how much you try you still can't remember anything. For you dying feels a lot like passing out and just like passing out you can't remember anything after you wake up.\n\nThis is the 5th time you wake up. Being prepared for a destiny you can't escape from has always been an issue, you know he will always find you but you can never guess when. He is smart, he is fast and stealthy. He is a shadow. You have always died after your 35th birthday, never before it. This is the last week before you turn 35 and you've been very busy protecting your house and preparing yourself for the worst.\n\n\"Why did I wait until the last week to do something?\" You asked to yourself. \"I am late again, now I don't have enough time for the investigation\", you lament. In this life you decided to focus your studies on the flow of time, you want to know why this happens to you and why you are the only one who suffers this condition. You haven't progressed much but you accidentally discovered how to use this ability for your own benefit. How long have you been awake? 36 hours, 36 consecutive hours of non stop work, you fall asleep in your desk.\n\nThe sound of your alarm wakes you up, you slowly open your eyes but fall asleep again. Beep beep. Second alarm, you can't trust just one alarm to wake you up, not after having spent all night playing video games. You wake up and find a sticky note on your keyboard, \"We are going to do better this time, go to college and become a physicist.\" it had written in red.\n\nCollege was a piece of cake, you realized that not only you have the knowledge of your past lives, you can also get some knowledge from your future lives. Your future self has taught you how to send notes back and forth and, with that, you have helped yourself learn faster. It's been years since you finished college and also years since the last note you received from yourself.\n\nYou wake up again in your desk, being awake for 36 hours was not a very good decision but you had to do it, you had to help your past self pass those finals. With the help of your tired hands you get up from your desk. To your surprise there is a sticky note on your keyboard written in red, you begin to read it. \"Sorry for this, I have tried but there is no escape. There is not enough time for an explanation. I think I'm earlier this time.\" Bang, warm blood slides down your neck. You pass out.\n\n---\n\nSmall warning: I wrote this very late at night, there may be several mistakes.\n\nEdit: [second part](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/6drore/wp_after_being_murdered_you_start_life_again_from/di64cu0/)."
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[WP] Ever since that night Jane won't say a word to you.
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"I never knew how cold metal could be until the night I ended up pressed against the side of a police car with two cuffs clasped around my wrists. The feeling overpowered my senses, drowning out the reading of my rights and the flashing red and blue lights that illuminated our quiet suburban neighborhood. I turned my head to the left, stealing one last look at Jane and our two little boys. She clutched them against her, turning their heads away from me. But where I had expected sadness, Jane's eyes shot daggers at me.\n\n\"What did you do?\" she screamed.\n\nShe knew, but the question was rhetorical. When the police had stormed into our house in the middle of our family dinner and opened up my work briefcase, that question had been clearly answered. Its contents spilled out onto the floor: several stacks of one hundred dollar bills, a .44 Magnum handgun, and thousands of dollars in cocaine. I hadn't exactly lied when I told her I was a salesman, but I hadn't been even close to truthful either.\n\n\"You're dead to us!\"\n\nAnd that was the last thing Jane said to me.\n\nThe side door of the police car opened and two strong hands pushed me into the back seat, head first.\n\n\"I'm sorry,\" I tried to shout back at her, but it was too late. The door slammed shut, cutting me off.\n\nNow, I just pace around my cement cell, hoping - *praying* - for a visit that I doubt will ever come.",
"\"I'm done with Sergio! He treats me like a ragdoll!\"\n\nThose were Jane's last words to me, two weeks ago. Maybe I'm getting a bit ahead of myself here- let me explain. Jane has been my flatmate for the past three years. We get along great- we eat together, go out together, live together. I can't remember one argument between us which wasn't resolved within a few hours. I love that girl like a sister.\n\nJane had been going through an on-again, off-again relationship with Sergio for about a year. He was a cute guy, but definitely too much of a jerk to her. I had advised her to leave him more than once. But who am I to tell her- I can't handle boys either. I've never had a relationship longer than three months.\n\nAnyways, Jane broke up with Sergio again and hopped on the ol' rebound train, as she always does. I didn't think too much of it as she stormed through the kitchen (I was making myself a sandwich), yelling those aforementioned last words and went straight into her bedroom.\n\nAs expected, Jane was out when I got home from work the next day. That's my gal, already on her first date the day after dumping the lump. I found some of Sergio's clothes and toiletries packed up near the front door along with a note from Jane: \n\n>I don't owe him nothing but if he comes back again, tell him to wait right here for me or try again tomorrow, I'm gonna kick tomorrow.\n\nI didn't try to make sense of it- I had seen this a hundred times before. Jane was properly drunk after a day alone at home with a wine bottle and Tinder. She had found herself a date, which would undoubtedly go horribly. No matter, she would be home soon enough- I should enjoy the calm before the storm. There would be at least a couple hours of bitching about men to come tonight.\n\nHowever, Jane didn't come home that night... or the next day. Luckily, I did get a text from her:\n\n>I'm going away to Spain when I get my money saved- I'm gonna start tomorrow.\n\nNow I was worried! What did that mean? Spain? She had never talked about moving before! And what about saving money? How was she going to do that? Was she ditching me and leaving me to pay for everything? Should I be looking for a new flatmate?\n\nI tried calling Jane but she didn't pick up. I left her a voicemail asking if she was okay and pleaded her to call me back as soon as she could. I got no reply all day. Finally at 8 pm, I texted her asking where she was.\n\n>At St. Andrews, waiting for dinner.\n\nSt. Andrews was the dirty part of town, full of hobos, junkies, and hookers! What was she doing there? In a panic, I texted her again. I feared the worst.\n\n>I've never been in love. I want 'em if they want me. I only know they want me.\n\nWell that confirmed it. I knew it was pointless trying to contact her again. It was the end of the song. Jane says no more."
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[WP] They killed our gods. Now we kill theirs.
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"\"Their bombs rained from the heavens, their forces swarmed over our walls, their planes destroyed our skies, their weapons crushed our homes, their chemicals polluted our water, their men violated our women, murdered our children, killed our brothers, raped our sisters. They burned down our churches, and scorched our way of life. And what do we have left? Vengeance, rage, hatred. They turned us into animals. They killed us. They killed our gods. Now we kill theirs.\"",
"\"Behold, the Great Temple at Alharon. This is where we take our vengeance. They killed our gods. Now we kill theirs.\" \n\nThe General addressed his army. He turned to the priesthood, gathered trembling on the temple steps. He lifted the Elder by the front of his robes and raised his blade.\n\n\"HALT.\" Called a voice from the temple. A young man, eyes glimmering with anger, stepped down from the entrance. \"You dare defile this holy ground with the blood of my worshippers?\" He said, head held high.\n\nThe General laughed. \"And you are?\"\n\n\"Alhar, son of Omhok the Lightbearer, Patron God of Alharon. And I order you, heathen, leave my city at once.\" The man replied, calm and collected. \n\n\"I will not bow to your will, you wretched spirit!\" The General roared as he charged the man who claimed to be a God.\n\n\"Then you shall fall to my wrath!\" Alhar declared, drawing his hand back and hurling a bolt of lightning.\n\nThe divine projectile struck true, slamming into the chest of the would-be godslayer, casting his smoking, shattered corpse to the foot of the temple's steps. \n\nAlhar looked to the barbarian crowd, a second bolt gathering in his hand, and issued his decree.\n\n\"Who else among you dares challenge the might of Alhar?\"",
"They came from the darkness between the stars.\n\nThey gave us the means to create fantastic structures. They showed us the ways of the world unseen to the eye of man.\n\nThen the ground shook and the fire belched out from the heart of our world.\n\nIt was the fire from which the others came.\n\nThey had spines on their backs and a red glow in their eyes. They sought out our Gods and swarmed their palaces.\n\nWe heard their cries and did nothing.\n\nWe heard their cries and we were afraid.\n\nWe found their remains, alone in their palaces, eaten and burnt.\n\nI was the only one who cried, \" Vengeance. \" Soon others would join me.\n\nMy father had tremendous eyes, black as coal, yet, still a beauty to behold. He left me his ship, of which I had the smallest of understanding.\n\nI had learned more since that day.\n\nDriven by my thirst for vengeance, I studied. Through my education, I have crafted the tools of their destruction.\n\nThe sons of the fallen joined me at the mouth of their cave. Together, we ventured forth into their domain.\n\nI carried with me the Staff of Nova, a powerful weapon that channeled the fire of a dying star.\n\nThe staff lit our way through the shadows and the darkness.\n\nThey came out to greet us, hissing and scrambling. We could only see the glow of their eyes until they came into the light of Nova.\n\nIngo used his Blade of Sarco to cut through swathes of the throng with a force that shattered each foe.\n\nElloa used her Arc of Lomesia to send arrows through each eye at a dizzying pace.\n\nMeanwhile, my staff set them alight like trees in a thunderstorm.\n\nAt the heart of their kingdom, we found their leaders.\n\nBloated monstrosities of massive proportions, we found them dining on the carcasses of our fathers.\n\nThey belched and roared at the sight of our entry.\n\nWe burned them and cut them. We made sure they would never see the light of our world ever again.\n\nWe came forth from that place, changed in ways we knew not.\n\nThe darkness seemed to be much more than it had appeared.\n\nSoon we found a blackness, creeping into our veins.\n\nWe grew sick.\n\nI am the last one left.\n\nThe darkness has me.\n\nIt won't be long now.\n",
"Arthur deflected the blow with his sword, kicking the man hard in the chest, knocking him away. He took the chance to look up from the battle, where he and hundreds of his brothers and sisters were engaged in a battle to end all battles. He looked high above the battle, in the skies where the true war was being waged. \n \nThe Goddess of Honor, Loriana, floated on her six wings of white and gold. Her glowing gold plate armor covered her entire body save her face, where her pure white hair flowed down to her shoulders. She wielded a sword in one hand and a shield in the other. Opposite her floated Agriel, God of Power. His two leathery wings held him aloft as he held an axe in one hand and a mace in the other. He wore black and red plate armor, and his head was covered in shaggy black hair and an equally unkempt beard.\n \n“This battle serves only to weaken us both, surely you can see the futility in it Agriel.” Loriana deflected an attack from the opposing god with ease, sending him back to his position opposite her. “You lose followers, and in doing so, strength by the minute. This battle will drag on until there are but handfuls of soldiers below. Whoever wins, we both lose in this.”\n \n“I think you are forgetting something.” Agriel’s raspy voice echoed as he spoke. “I can alway collect more Humans to worship me. But the Light inside of you.” He pointed his axe at Loriana’s chest. “That will serve to strengthen me to new heights, and with one god’s Light, I can overpower the others more easily. Soon I will be the leader of the gods, and even our brothers and sisters of the Pantheon will be forced to worship at my feet.” He launched another attack with both weapons at once, only to have his blows bounced harmlessly off the shield of Loriana. He roared in anger.\n \n“You fail to comprehend this, but our styles of combat are antithesis to one another.” Loriana smiled sadly. “I am near purely defense, and you are nothing but rage driven offense. I can defend from your brute force for an eternity.”\n \nAgriel looked at Loriana for a moment as the battle continued below. He looked down at the gathered soldiers fighting for their respective gods, and he smiled. Agriel flew down into the midst of the battle and swatted at the masses of soldiers, sending dozens flying with every blow. He cared not whether they were his soldiers or hers, he killed nearly a hundred before Loriana was at his side in the midst of the battle. Her angry cry was accompanied by a smashing blow from her shield into Agriel’s face.\n \n“We do not interfere in this!” She screamed at Agriel whose nose was bleeding. He smiled and rolled away from her, taking out dozens of soldiers with every stride. The angry cry followed him, and this time he whipped around just as she was rushing him. His axe buried itself in Loriana’s abdomen nearly cutting the goddess in half. Blood sputtered out of her mouth as she looked up at him with sad eyes.\n \nWith every ounce of strength she had, she jerked away from Agriel, and threw her sword and shield high over the battlefield. She fell back onto her knees and closed her eyes as her skin started to glow with light. Agriel smiled as Loriana fell onto her face, and the light faded from her skin. A small ball of light ascended from her body, and Agriel grabbed hold of it, shoving it into his chest and roaring as the power of another god joined his own.\n \nArthur slew the man he’d been fighting as his skin began to tingle. He looked over in time to see his goddess, the being with which he had shaped his life around, had fought, and killed for. Had taught his sons and daughters the ideals she held, fall over dead.\n \n“Loriana is dead.” He whispered, and due to the cries of agony and sadness, he was not the only one to notice. The sky parted enough to let rays of light scatter around the battlefield, and wherever one of Loriana’s soldiers stood, the light warmed.\n \nAll those who hold light in their hearts. Loriana’s voice filled Arthur’s mind, and he looked at her lifeless form sadly. I could never abandon you. Fight with honor, defend that light, and I will always be a part of you. Fear not the Darkness, for you are the agents of it’s demise. You are the light that burns away the Dark. You do not need me to be that light. A blessing upon every soldier who fights for honorable causes, from this day until the end of days. Loriana’s voice was sad as it faded away, and Arthur could feel a warmth fill him from inside.\n \n“Captain.” A soldier ran up to Arthur. “Captain, the goddess is dead. What do we do?” The young man looked to Arthur with fear in his eyes.\n \n“They killed our goddess.” Arthur looked at the boy sadly. “Let’s say we return the favor.” Arthur smiled and looked for his warriors. “Men and Women of Honor!” He yelled and he saw heads turn where they could, and he knew the rest were listening as they fought. “Our goddess is slain, by that abomination!” He pointed his sword at Agriel, who was still smiling at the intake of power. “You have received her final blessing, do not waste it! For Loriana! For Honor!”\n \n“LORIANA!” The chant was deafening across the battlefield as the soldiers of the slain goddess fought with renewed vigor, pushed to new feats of strength, speed, and skill by her blessing.\n \n“Sir what of Agriel?” The young soldier whispered.\n \n“He must also be dealt with.” Arthur said matter of factly, and he felt the warmth inside him grow stronger, as if pressing him forward. “Assist the others Julian, I will see what can be done about that thing.” Julian simply nodded and head towards the nearest battle group. Arthur sighed and began walking towards the god who was laughing now as he was in the process of growing taller and wider.\n \n“AGRIEL!” Arthur yelled at the god, bringing him out of his revery to look at the distraction. He saw Arthur approaching and laughed again.\n \n“Mortal, you would stand against me?” He smiled. “Did you not just witness the death of your goddess at my hand? You think you will fare better?”\n \n“I will stand against you regardless.” Arthur raised his sword, his free hand wishing it had a shield. The warmth was growing stronger as he approached Agriel. He felt as though he was walking in the middle of his farm on a midsummer’s day, with his son’s and daughter’s at his side. The thought filled him with happiness, and he smiled.\n \n“Mortal!” Seeing the insect of a Human smiling at him angered him, and Agriel rushed forward with his axe. Arthur caught the blow of the massive bladed weapon on his sword, which shattered at the force of the contact. The axe was followed by Agriel’s mace, which made hard contact with Arthur’s plate chest armor, sending him flying back to Agriel’s raucous laughter. “What a weak species you Humans are.”\n \nArthur landed with a thud, his chest armor dented in, making it hard to breathe. Blood sputtered out of his mouth, and he was coughing. The light inside him warmed him still, and as he stood up, he thought of his wife, and he smiled through bloody teeth. \n \nAs he took another step forward, a sword descended from high above, landing with a thud just inches from Arthur. He looked at it, realizing it was Amphadrian, Loriana’s sword. It was followed shortly after by her shield, which clattered to the ground next to him. Arthur hesitated for a moment, and picked up the sword and shield. As he did, he felt the warmth surge through him into the weapon and shield, and his own waning strength was renewed.\n \n“AGRIEL!” Arthur yelled again, and the god stopped his laughter dead. He turned to look at the mortal who would not be swatted dead so easily. He saw the sword and shield, and yelled in anger.\n \n“Mortals should not toy with the tools of the gods!” Agriel screamed and rushed forward with his axe again. Arthur raised the shield of his goddess to block the swing, which bounced off the god crafted metals with ease. The mace followed and came down like a mountain on Arthur, only to be stopped in it’s tracks by the shield. Arthur felt himself sink an inch into the ground at the force of the blow, but his strength held. His family was with him, the warmth was guiding him.\n \n“Loriana!” Arthur heard the chant echoing through the battlefield still, as the hammer blows of Agriel rained down on the shield. His brothers and sisters of Honor were taking the day, and he could not let them down.\n \nAgriel screamed in rage as he struck down again and again, and finally, Arthur pushed back with the shield, sending the god flying back as his blow was deflected. Arthur was sprinting after the god as soon as he was free, leaving foot deep indentations where he had withstood Agriel’s assault.\n \nArthur and Amphadrian alike were glowing with blinding light by the time he reached the recovering Agriel, and the blade knew exactly where to go, sinking deep into the god’s heart before he could stand.\n \nThe light from Arthur and Amphadrian filled Agriel, and light began to seep through the open wound as the god screamed in pain. He swung down hard with his axe, sinking the blade deep into Arthur’s shoulder, but the man felt nothing as the light filled him. He held Amphadrian steady as the blade doled out it’s own revenge for it’s master.\n \nThe wound spread across Agriel, as did the light seeping from his body. After a moment, Arthur felt the sword tug at him, and he ripped the blade across the god’s chest with all his might, pulling it free and rending the wound in the process. Agriel fell to the dirt, dead.\n \nArthur stepped back, letting the axe fall from his shoulder, realizing he had nearly lost his left arm from the strike. As Agriel died, two small spheres of light ascended from his body. Arthur had seen the dark god grab and envelop the light, but he had no wish to do the same. One of the lights soared into the sky, to disappear into the clouds. The other slowly approached Arthur and floated into his chest of it’s own volition.\n \nThe light filling Arthur grew a thousand fold.",
"\"And the Lord created man in His image, bestowing him with self. The self was what made mankind special; they were sent to rule over the Lord's land. The self came with understanding and curiosity, allowing man to more aptly treasure the land, and shape it to their own will. And with the self, mankind shall be the shepherds to creation, guiding all that the Lord has placed on the land and protecting from sin those who elsewise would be led astray by evil.\"\n\nThis passage was the cornerstone of moral in our society. It separated man from beast, gave us hope and a respect in our sentience and the power of the church. This passage was said by scholars to predate even the scriptures the holy ones read from. It was repeated every tenday before water was drunk and food was eaten.\n\nYou must understand that from where I am from, the church ruled. For those of aspirations of wealth and fame, a pious reputation unspokenly required. Those who spoke out against the church were outcasts, banished from our civilisation to one of the border settlements. This is not to say that there were not doubters. Unrest has been stirring in the bellies of the major cities for years, but riots were quenched with an iron fist by the leaders of the clergy. The ones closer to the Lord now held processions regularly in areas deemed 'faltering' in religious intent.\n\nI was a doubter. I kept this to myself of course, I could not risk my and my family's safety. But for the most part, I saw through the passages read to us from the lofty height of lecterns and stages. I saw the church for what is was; just a vehicle for a lucky few to cement their place in the societal ladder. I should add that I did believe in a creator, just not the one I was being preached about at the end of the working tenday. Once you shed yourself of 'common knowledge', their teachings felt contrived; donations to the church were encouraged and those who gave heavier gold than others were 'rewarded' with prayers from those most holy.\n\n-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nIt had been only a few weeks since contact had been made with the Orcs. The news spread like lightning hitting the surface of a lake through the cities, turning unrest to violence. The impact to the clergy had been explosive; holy texts held sacred for centuries thrown to fires, and the priests once revered for spreading their knowledge burned alongside them.\n\nWhen people found that they were not alone on this earth, there was a sudden realisation that those that had believed them had been fed lies for their entire lives. Doubters had thrown off their acts and spoke loudly and publicly, and even some previously dubbed heretics returned to the major cities without much resistance. Their very presence showed our most sacred of scriptures was a lie. We were not the only creatures with the self. We were not special. The Orcs, and the sole fact that they presided equally in our land, killed our God.\n\nThe church fell apart soon after this. Donations stopped coming in, people no longer attended preachings, and riots had been sparked in areas where inequality was highest. That it had only taken such a short time for society as I knew it to collapse was surprising; I had expected the rumors of the Orcs to be confirmed as hoaxes once again, and for people to ignore them and continue their lives as before. But once the Orcs had approached the capitol, the rumors were confirmed as true. The city guard repelled their approaching forces, of course, but could not contain their news. \n\n-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nGlom rolled his shoulders against the weight of his chainmail, his mutterings ignored by the rest of his garrison. They had gathered by the outskirts of their settlement after hearing their elders talk of war, imbued with an innate feeling of a glorious and bloody future.\n\nThis was a mistake, he thought; the humans would be easy pickings. The chief said as much; the humans had food that he could eat and weapons that he could fight with. He liked fighting. So did the rest of them, and the elders were quick to back him up. But they talked too much. Glom would kill the elders after the humans were dead. \"Yes\", he thought, \"This is a good idea\".\n\nA whistle pierced the quiet around him. To his right, an Orc collapsed, a small straight twig growing from his head. It was a strange twig, its leaves looked nothing he had seen in the forest before, white and angular, and pointing away from the Orc from which it grew.\n\nThe rest of the garrison did not react fast enough. Sticks soon grew from all of them. Glom was scared, he had never seen magic like this before, but he was faster than them, and this made him feel good. A whooping cry emanated from beyond the edge of the forest, and a thundering erupted around him. Humans on horses rode, screaming, through the forest towards where the rest of his garrison had been. The last thing that Glom ever felt was the cold of a steel sword biting his neck. \n\n-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nOur army had dealt with the rest of the Orcs quickly enough. They were hunted down and executed for the sole reason that they existed. It was savage and ruthless, but we no longer had our old morals to follow; they had killed our god, so we had killed them."
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[WP] Humans have a finite amount of blood. There's no natural replenishing, apart from receiving donor blood. Being a donor makes you a hero. There's a Guinness Book of Blood Records. What does Earth look like?
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"It started small. Children born who were not producing adequate amounts of blood. The first generations survived, but were a\nweakened. Eventually it grew to be a problem where people lived their whole lives dependent on blood transfusions. It was a problem that where no solution was found. No solution was found because people care about problems that effect them.\n\nPoverty was the foundation of my family. My grandmother's grandfather was born pale. His older sister dedicated her every waking moment to aid him. She read and studied, but at that early time it was a problem that only existed in her brother. She worked two and a half jobs, but she spent countless sleepless nights reading. She didn't dare draw he blood, but she spent every dime she earned looking for something that could be done. She read, she researched what tests might help find the problem. Sometimes she would give him the last crust of bread. She was the only one to sacrifice for him. Not the only one. One day, while she worked, he went and stood in the sun not knowing that was the first chapter of a beautiful love story. My grandmother's grandfather was pale when he died. \n\nI am trying. I am trying so hard. In the years since his death, people began to wake up and acknowledge the need for a solution. Now it is not only the people who look like me. It is everyone. In my darkest moments I am glad they will suffer as we have, but I know they will not suffer until everyone I love is dead.\n\nFor them, it is cheaper to make it a game for the masses. They have reward those who donate, I don't have enough fingers to count the number of people I've loved who have bleed out. Some desperately trying to buy food for their families, some to escape the pain of this life. \n\nI know I will not live much longer. For generations my family has searched for a magic cure. But as I lay listening to the sounds of the city, I wonder if there is one. My children hold my hands and I look to their beautiful faces one last time. A revolution is coming. I can see it in their eyes. My heart fills with pain and the last thought on my mind is that all the hours that I tried and I did nothing to save my children. \n\n....................\n\n\nHey, it's my first day on here and I am going crazy, I would love some input!",
"Blood. It is a valuable resource, limited by amount a mother gives to their child. My father told me that my mother was one of the best, that during my birth, she sacrificed all her blood to ensure that my life would be long. If she only knew how cruel the world would become in the next year, perhaps she would know that it was best for me to be aborted.\n\nThe Blood War began a year after my birth. Tired of donating their blood and shortening their longevity to afford to put food on the table, the poor, the \"donors\" began a crusade against the rich, \"the receivers\" which later escalated into a full blown war. As one of the poor, my father lost his life fighting against the \"Receivers\". When it happened, I was taken in by his comrades, and they attempted to train me.\n\nI was a burden for them. I was too young to hunt for food, too young to fight in the war, too young to do anything of significant use. I didn't know it at the time, but the donors were well aware of my futility... and my utility. My father's best friend, the leader of the donors died in a battle yesterday. And although i did not know it at the time, he was the only one keeping me alive.\n\nToday, they came for me. As my blood is forcibly being sucked out of my body, I am allowed to write down my last words. This is my story.\n\n"
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[WP] You have been hired by a prestigious business, but soon find out its business interests are of less...worldly...concerns.
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"*This is not what I signed up for.* I ducked behind a dumpster, taking a deep, calming breath.\n\n\"Sir! You are not welcome under statute 99-LHC. I need to ask you to lay down your arms or I will use extreme force!\"\n\nThe response was a series of snarls and hisses. The translator on my glasses showed the language in its original glyphic state, and then switched it over to English: \"I am a mother of seventeen thousand! You dare address me as a male?!\"\n\nShe made her point by hurtling a bolt of energy at the dumpster, destroying a significant chunk of it. I rolled away. \n\nThe figure before me was about seven feet tall, rising off the ground on a thick tail like a slug covered in scales - too thick to be snake like. The single center eye was ringed by hands, two of which had mouths in their palm from which her horrible voice uttered. The other four held spears that ended in large red crystals. \n\n\"Ma'am, I apologize for presuming, but if you want to see any of those seventeen thousand again I need you to stand down.\" I kept my voice calm and level, like training had drilled into me, but my heart was pounding like I'd downed a dozen expresso's right after running a marathon. Up a mountain. \"We can return you to your home plane, but if you continue hostile action I will be forced to fire.\" \n\nAfter a long moment, she dropped the crystal rods. \n\n\"Find, then, meat. Send me home.\"\n\nI let out a breath I didn't realize I had been holding, putting a finger to my ear. \"Kade Allen. I need a relocation crew and a gate at twenty-third and main. No civilians spotted.\"\n\n\"Copy that, Kade. We've got a crew en route, eta ten minutes. What have you got?\"\n\nI glanced at the monstrosity, who was making soft whistling sounds like Satan's teakettle. I sighed. \"Copy that, Dispatch. I've got a crying Shobbathi here. Any suggestions?\"\n\nThe dispatcher chuckled softly in my ear. \"Well then, give her some garlic. Tends to calm them down.\"\n\nI checked my pouch, still had a clover. \"Roger. You're a peach, Dani. See you back at base.\"\n\n*This is not the life I had in mind.*\n\n---\n\nNephildyne was one of the foremost tech firms in the world. I'd been nervous as hell interviewing there. Even now, walking up to the building was awe-inspiring. It towered above the New York skyline, a spire of glass and steel that punctured the heavens. Here, the greatest minds humanity had to offer toiled away on making the world a better place.\n\nI'd never been to the upper floors before. At least, not over the Real. My building took the Other Elevator - it went up, sure, but it did so through a portal. When I stepped out, the sky was splotched red and blue streaked with black lightning.\n\n\"Hey Kade.\" Dani was grinning as I walked past Dispatch. \"A crying Shobbathi? Really?\" \n\nI shrugged, not able to meet her eyes. \"She has seventeen thousand kids, Dani, didn't think she'd get to see them again.\"\n\nA laugh. I knew it wasn't supposed to be mocking, but it felt that way. \"Get any good artifacts off her?\"\n\nI shook my head. \"Just a few Crimson Rods. I know R&D can always use more, but not exactly a great find.\"\n\n\"Gotcha. Well, good job on your first solo. Even if you made her cry.\" Dani ducked back into her office before I could retort. \n\nMy degree was in Computer Science, but I'd gotten the degree through ROTC. Worked military IT for four years - never actually saw active combat, thankfully, but had been in some tough zones. Once I finished my four years active, I'd gone looking for civilian work.\n\nI'd wanted a nice, boring, office job. A job where I'd never have to worry about my friends, where I could have a life.\n\nInstead, I'd been offered a job that was too cool to pass up - recovering extradimensional artifacts from Beyondmen (and, apparently, women, although most didn't have genders to speak of.) It came with a long term contract and so many NDA's it would make your head spin. To my nerdy self, it sounded like a dream come true.\n\nUntil I realized that most Beyondmen were scared, confused, and hostile intelligences. The Shobbathi were one of only twelve species we could communicate with - and we'd encountered over a thousand. \n\nI'd just wanted a nice, comfortable office job. Instead...\n\nAs I settled into my desk, Jerry ran up. “Don’t get too comfy Kade. We've got a class seven in Detroit. Looks like we've got three Cur of Saavat on the loose.\" I sighed, grabbing my gun. \n\n\"We need some jade rounds, a cup of sugar, and some sparrows, right?\" I asked the more experienced agent.\n\n\"Already got them all, Kade. Let's go.\"\n\n...well, at least it was Friday. I picked up my go bag and headed back to the elevator, looking forward to the weekend. \n\n---\n\nmore at /r/Hydrael_Writes"
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[WP] All headlines beginning with "Florida man" are actually talking about the same person. That person is you.
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"The kitchen table held a glass that sat on a worn old coaster. Beside that glass was a bottle of brown liquid with a dark label as well as a freshly printed newspaper. A light above flickered, barely managing to flutter back to life as you look at it, wondering if you might habe the chance to get to the store to buy a replacement. After placing some buttered toast on a plate you sit in the only chair you have, the one that has a leg slightly shorter than the others, and pour a glass of the dark liquid.\n\nThe paper on the table calls to you, but you don't want to pick it up. Not yet.\n\nAfter taking a bite out of the dry slightly burned toast and choke it down with what's in the glass you decide that the bottle might just work better.\n\n\"FLORIDA MAN...\" taunts you from the headlines, daring you to pick up the article and browse the drama that has unfolded. With shaking hands the paper finds it way to grace your eyesight with the blasphemy that has become your world. \n\nYou unfold the item and glare at the authors name, Ruthie Anderson, cursing her silently as memories pile before your eyes. Memories of when you where happy and the light that flickers above was as bright as the sun on the first day of summer. Silently you wonder what you have done to deserve what you will read this time, but already know that every word will still pale in comparison to the truth. You tilt the glass bottle back and take a deep draught of bitter, firey liquid as you open the newspaper fully and glare at the picture of yourself.\n\nYou know it's Photoshop, but not many know the truth. \n\n\"Florida man, high on drugs leads police on wild chase across multiple counties.\"\n\nYou close your eyes and internally scream, a rage that is more a sadness wells up inside you, mind drifting to an event that unfolded nearly three year ago.\n\n[I]The park was Auroras favorite place to go on a Sunday after church, so we went ever chance we could get. This week Ruthie, my wife, was unable to make it so we where planning on leaving early and surprising her with flowers while she was at work. I know I should call her to let her know that we where at the park and having fun, and when we would be leaving to make sure that she wouldn't worry but my phone had died as my charger had mysteriously stopped working in the night. \n\nAs we packed up to leave, gathering the toys from the sand box and brushing dirt from clothes I hear a helicopter whirr above me. I glance up, noting the police colors, quietly wondering what is going on now. It's Florida, you never know what's going on here. We pack everything in the car and head to the flower shop, picking up caila lillies as they are Ruth's favorite. In the distance you hear sirens blaring, unsure of the direction in which they are heading. \n\nThe memory fades, picking up at the moment you woke up in the hospital, agony slicing through your body as you look at the legs you have now encased in casts, elevated slightly above your heart. Little do you remember of the conversation, only the memories of asking where Aurora was, where is she, what happened. The details fade and slight memories of sirens and wailing, a crunch and boom of metal subsides as the nurse pricks your arm and you fade into blackness. [/I]\n\nYou stare at the paper, not comprehending or caring about the words on it. All you can think of is Ruthies face as she stares at you in the hospital bed, blaming you for the death of her daughter. We both know there was nothing I could have done, but blame must be placed when one is in pain, and I happened to be that person in which blame was placed. \n\n\"You killed our daughter, Jameson, MY daughter. I will never forgive you. Your life ended when hers did, and I will make sure of it.\""
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Whether it's a rich person who can afford it to a poor person being given some to try, or something in between.
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[WP] Technology has advance to where hunger is no longer a problem, and food is now considered a luxury. for the very first time, you happen to try some.
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"My grandmother used to tell stories about how they had family dinner at a table everyday. She would explain how they sometimes did not feel like cooking, so they drove trough this building, and they could buy some for just $5. It must have been amazing. Having a dining table, I have seen one, once. When I was at my friends grandmothers house, she had one on display in her home. I used to daydream about a family, sitting at a table eating. Talking about their day, just spending time together. It must have been such a great time. Eating something different everyday! When I was a child I used to collect pictures of food. I had so many. My favorite was pizza, and shrimp. They looked delicious. I also know someone who had a picture of chocolate. That one was really rare, as the world ran out of cocoa beans a really long time ago. \n\nI've never tasted food. That is, until right now. I should really not be here at all, but I could not resist. I was on my way home when my glasses stopped working, and I had to take them off to see what was wrong. I stopped in front of this huge mansion, I don't not know who lives here, but they must be rich. I noticed a truck pulling up, and the robot waitresses descending. I had seen those on TV before, so I knew what they were. It turned out that we were in a cellular low point. That was why my glasses stopped working. Due to this low point one of the waitresses malfunctioned, and it left the gate open. The smell made it impossible for me to walk away. I had never smelled anything like it before. It was so...genuine. My body reacted on its own. Before I even knew what I was doing I was standing in the kitchen. One of the chef's looked at me, like the petty teenager I as. He smiled and handed me a slice of pizza with bacon on it. I felt the warm slice in my hand, saw the smoke coming from it. My mouth started watering. I almost didn't know what to do. It was such a surreal situation. The chef told me to take a bite. I did not really know how, how much do you eat? I nibbled on a piece, and felt the flavors burst in my mouth. The feeling of melted cheese, holding on to the slice, as I took a bite. The first flavor of bacon. Oh, the bacon. I can't tell you what It feels like. It's like all your dreams coming true, in one, small strip of perfectly cooked meat, bursting with flavor in the perfect combination of salt and crispy. I cried a little. Non of the chefs said a word, the all knew I was not supposed to be there, and they were certainly not supposed to give me food. They also knew, that they just gave me one of the greatest experiences of my life. "
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[WP] They considered you the worlds most hated Villian, but they don't realize how much good you really do.
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"Jackie Rider, glanced at her notes in what would be the interview that would set the standard for all journalistic reporting forever. Not a drop of sweat was visible. Across from her sat, Nero. The dome shaped room was cavernous in size and dwarfed everyone. Out of the five people working in the middle, Nero, even sitting, cast shade on anyone beneath him. Never truly measured, it was rumored he was at least nine feet tall, when in truth they were off by a foot, it was more like ten feet. He was encased in his signature crimson armor and black cape draped to the floor. His scarred bald head was exposed and acid green eyes chilled everyone who glanced his way. He studied the film crew work.\n\n“Nero, thank you for doing this.” Jackie said. She reached her hand across. \nThe crew setting up the interview all froze. Jackie did not budge. Nero met her in the middle. His gauntlet made her entire hand and forearm disappear. \n\n“Absolutely.” Nero said. Though his voice had a deep gravel quality, he was sincere.\n\nThe film crew members go back to the lighting and sound.\n \n“We are ready to go.” The cameraman squeaked out and stuck his eye back into the camera as Nero looked his way. Jackie prepped her first page. \n\n“Nero, just respond as honestly and take your time with the answers. There is no time limit so you can relax.” Jackie said. The cameraman jerked his head up and gave Jackie a raised eye brow and mouthing his disbelief. \n\nNero looks at the cameraman and chuckled shaking his head giving his attention back to her. \n\n“Of course.”\n\n“Okay great! First question: At the start of your, what some people called your ‘The Reign,’ did you ever think you came out the wrong way? And would you have changed a thing if you could go back and start again?”\n\n“No. I was always asked if ‘I can live with myself?’ Tyrant, overlord, and my personal favorite, villain.”\n\n“Did those words hurt you?”\n\n“Getting buried in condescending words only built up my tolerance to their ravings. They acted like children who thought their opinions mattered and I was their father. My explanation would only make them more rebellious. You do not get to choose your children, but in the end, I did what was right for them.” \n\nJackie puts her notes away. \n\n“But the severity! The way you wiped out the others. Held everyone with a knife to their throats. Did you ever think about a way to turn the Afflicted back?”\n\n“I did and would not have changed a thing.” Nero said. Still as a mountain face. \n\n“What if I were to tell you there was a way to save them if you had not acted so secretly and rashly?” Jackie pulled a file out her bag and retrieved a large photo. “We would not have had all these atrocities you caused.” The pictures show a wide array of mass executions, graves, buildings toppled, and Nero crushing the head of an unidentified hero, while Nero’s dreaded mechanical army holds the crowd of people back at gunpoint. “You looked like you enjoyed it.” She brings the photos out for Nero to take. “Did they deserve the brutality?”\n\nNero picks up the stack of photos. He looks at the one of him defeating the other hero and lingers in the silent room. \n\n“Nero?” Jackie said. Nero comes to and gives the photos back to Jackie. \n\n“Yes. Next question.” \n\n",
"I kept them sane. The Heroes of this world that slandered my name with such ferocious hate. \n\nThe deal was made when the first superpower stepped into the limelight. It was fine, for a little while. They entertained themselves, helping the firemen rescue trapped civilians, or digging through rubble after an earthquake. \n\nThen they ran out of things to do. \n\n\nBored superheros are a nuisance. Let me make that clear. They would hang around the police station, waiting for the second the phone rang before bolting like a flash of lightning towards whatever the issue seemed to be. So many of the emergency service men and women had lost their jobs because of these superheros. \n\nSo I was called in. \n\nI had 'potential' they said. A dormant gene that could ignite under the right circumstances to grant me powers. But only if I used them for evil. \n\nThere were rules - of course. I couldn't be a *real* threat to anyone - and I always had to let the hero win. But as long as I kept them entertained and away from the masses, no-one really cared. \n\n\"Lady Hargrave, your reign of terror is over.\" \n\nI rolled my eyes at my reflection in the window, plastering a smirk onto my features and turning towards the brave hero who stood at the entrance to my not-so-secret lair. \n\n\"Not yet its not.\" \n__________________________\nLike it? Read more of my writing [here] (https://www.reddit.com/r/FireWitchChronicles)! "
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[WP] In the future everyone is born with a twin. To keep the population down, at the age of 18 both twins will have to face eachother in a fight to the death!
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"\n2147, a year of happiness and sadness. With every birth, came another death. Every mother shed tears before she gave birth, not because of the pain that she faced due to the birth; but the pain she was to face 18 years from then. All mothers thought of plans of trying to save both her children, they were both part of her. How can she see one kill the other? How can a mother see her two children fight each other till one of them gave up and died? This was too much for a mother to take, for a mother to see. The rate of suicides of woman had never been this high; ironically many of these suicides took place right before their children’s 18th Birthdays. \n\nSuch was the fate of the mother of Brad and James. On the eve of their 18th birthday, they came back home from the bowling alley with their friends. An event that was supposed to be a celebration of sorts before their friends lost one of either Brad or James. It wasn’t something new for them; most of their friends were already estranged twins that had survived after ending the lives of their own twin siblings. Life after anyone’s 18th Birthday was always bittersweet, there was sweetness in the rejoice that you were the stronger one and you had been successful in murdering your own sister or brother. Sadness and regret in the fact that you had been successful in murdering one of your own. \n\nJames and Brad got home to show their parents the gifts both of them had gotten, tomorrow all these gifts were to belong to one. James called out for his mother, once, twice, and thrice; but no reply. He rushed upstairs to find what he dreaded. His mother’s cold body cradled in warm blood, the same brain that taught him everything he knew was half open and the hand that taught him to walk now had a gun in place of his small hands. She was gone, there was no denying that. He had seen this happen to his other friends and he knew that his mother could have done this to herself but he had no way of stopping her. He realized that he hadn’t heard Brad’s voice in a long time, had he even known that their mother was no more? James went searching through the house to find Brad and to break this sad news to him. As he navigated the different rooms of their mansionesque house, he felt a weight on his heart. The further he went the heavier that weight felt. \n\nAs he approached the last room, which was ironically Brad’s Room, he saw the greatest example of sacrifice that the world had ever seen. There lay Brad with his wrists slit, still alive but almost gone. The whiteboard behind him; that they once drew on, read “I couldn’t put you through this, Live your Life.” \n\nAnd thus, James knew that he had a lonely life ahead. Without his brother and his mother, he was to navigate the escapades of this world and maybe somewhere try to change the world, so no mother had to kill herself to prevent seeing her children try to murder each other. \n",
"It was 18 years. But Jordan remembered as if it was yesterday. Tears welled up in his eyes, blurring his vision, as he signed into existence “Tyson's Law”. Years of work and campaigning but it had been worth it.\n\nSociety fumbled, the population grew stagnant, and there had been whole worlds left to fill. So they doubled the population, spliced a gene into the next batch of kids, effectively doubling population growth. It only took 2 generations for them to notice the problem. Had they started smaller they could have ironed out the details, and saved people from starvation and illness. Instead too many kids… way too quickly.\n\nThey could not splice the gene out...every birth gave a burden. So some president gave a brilliant solution. Natural competition...ensuring that only the best of the best would survive. The other then would be harvest... after all there was already so much waste. Soon there was enough resources to go around, and yet it gave the resident population an edge so they did not repeal that law. \n\nJordan remembered Tyson fondly. He always smiled. He was the older brother and had an edge. Tyson was faster, smarter, and could make anyone smile. And Jordan tried to take solace in his ultimate fate. \n\nHe took to religion.\n\nHe liked the idea of an afterlife. A place where the end was only a means to another world. But he soon grew jaded, fearful of a world that may not exist.\n\nJordan did not want to die. Who would? But he believed enough of Gods and other worlds to know that killing was wrong. Why should he kill anyone based off the laws of yesterday’s men… and stain his soul from entering heaven. \n\nSo he asked God to kill his brother.\n\nNo... He begged.\n\nTyson did not die, and soon the day was upon him... their birthday and soon-to- be death day.\n\nTyson taunted him. Screamed at him. Demeaned him. Tried to gain a spark out of him. But Jordan did not move an itch.\n\nAs time moved on more implements flooded the arena. Tools to make the task easier...and if they rebelled then gas to end it all. Then it appeared, one tool to tip the scales.\n\nA gun.\n\nIn an instant Tyson picked up a gun and asked Jordan if it was better to see a brother that you love die, or would it better kill a brother quickly without looking.\n\nJordan looked at the gun and told his brother that he hated him. \n\n Tyson said he knew that, and asked him to turn around as he pulled a gun to Jordan’s head.\n\nJordan looked into the distance and waited.\n\nThen he heard his brother say those words that haunt him to this day. The words that would drown his world with questions and build a fire that would not only make him president but repeal that law, and create a new world.\n\nThat sometimes an angel listens, little brother. \n\nThen Tyson blew his own brains out.\n\n\n"
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Figured I'd see what WritingPrompts could do with just one word.
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[WP] "Whoops."
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[
"It's not so bad being on desk duty, I just surf the web or play Rocket League and take the occasional phone call. Although MLB teams *do* get a lot of phone calls, my god. I have a daily call list of about 40 armchair managers the team should totally call if they're ever looking. So it turns out my MLB internship is good for something since I also get experience as a sports radio talk show host.\n\nThat said, My classmates have way more work to do. The best part of the whole gig is that I get to hang with Jessie in the shared cubicle while I play phone jockey/pwn noobs.\n\nJessie and I have actually been classmates for a long time, but it was one of those things were we never really hung out or anything. She did cheerleading, speech, even volunteered to be a TA for the remedial math classes. I could've done a club or something, but I think I was just a typical scaredy-cat teenager and wouldn't know what to do with Jessie even if I got a chance to talk. My dad used to say \"Like a dog chasing a car...\"\n\nI think he's right, or, I used to think so. Sharing this internship and the shitty corner cubicle with Jessie has probably been the best summer of my life. She doesn't know it, but hanging out with her I've lost my fear of talking to girls, made a good friend, and even learned how to playfully tease a little bit. I think tomorrow I should ask her out... Jessie interrupts my train of thought.\n\n\"Yeah, We're basically slaves, but my design portfolio is gonna be ready to rock once I graduate.\"\n\n\"Sure, Jessica. Like anyone's gonna pay you to... ahhh damn\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"I'm getting wrecked in Rocket League right now and Gary is giving me all kinds of shit in chat.\"\n\n\"Like, I don't even get what's so fun about that game. It's just pixels moving around on the screen.\" Jessie retorted\n\n\"Well, isn't that basically what you do all... sonofabitch! I got him!\"\n\nI type into chat:\n\n>GG 2 EZ. IMMA WRECK YOU NEXT GAME LIKE I WRECKED YOUR MOM LAST NIGHT\n\nJessie spies the screen over my shoulder. \"Ew... like I just don't even get it. I wrecked what last night?\"\n\nJust at that moment our supervisor, Chad, swung around the corner to make sure we were both working. I think my shit-talking may have tipped him off that I'm not doing any work.\n\nI swear Chad is working in the wrong sport. At 6'5\", 220 Chad looks, walks, and talks like a all-star NHL forward that's gotten into about ten too many fights and lost about eleven too many teeth. I know it's shitty to hate someone because of the way they talk, but he's just unbearable. It doesn't help it that I think he has a thing for Jessie.\n\n\"What's up playas? How'zith'? Anyway I scored two free comp tickeths to the ballgame tonighth. You wanem Jessie?\"\n\n\"Uhh, YES! I love the Rockies!\"\n\n\"Cool, then I can pick ya up ath 6. Dig?\"\n\n\"What?!? Ew, I mean. Umm... I have plans.\"\n\n\"I thought thyou wanted da tickets?\"\n\n\"No, I uh... like... eh.. I'm going out with Steve tonight?\"\n\nWhat? No, she's not going out with me! I'm playing RL with Gary tonight. Wait? What's even going on right now? Is she really going to go out with me just to shed Chad? Immediately my hands go clammy and I forget how to talk.\n\n\"Ahhhhh, ya playa!\" Chad preps for a high-five that isn't coming. \"I didn no you twoths a thing til now. Take da tickeths anyway. Have fun!\"\n\nI turn across the cubicle as Chad stumbles back around the corner. Before I can set eyes on Jessie, she starts explaining.\n\n\"So like, I know it sounds like I just like made that all up and everything, but I'd be totally cool with going to the ballgame with you if you wanted.\"\n\nBy the time I've finished rolling the discount office chair around to Jessie, my heart's in my throat and I've sweat all the way through my sports jacket.\n\n\"Yeah...\" I squeak. \"Ok, let's do it. I mean... go to the game.\" \n\n\"Ok, cool. I live like real close, so we can just meet up at my place and walk over.\"\n\n^\"Yeah?\"\n\nAwkward silence consumes the air, until I hear Chad lurching around the corner. \"Yo, I forgoth man. Stheve - you gotta text in the Jumbotron 'fore you leave. Jus puth this in the App. Ith's like all bluethooth or something.\"\n\nChad tosses me an envelope chock full of data entry. What's worse is I'm gonna have to type it out on my phone, apparently. I'm stuck here forever.\n\n\"Uh oh. Looks like somebody is gonna have to stay late. I'm going to leave, but when your done text me and come over before the game.\"\n\n\"Ok, uh. See then you later?\" I manage.\n\nAbout an hour into the data entry I get a text.\n\n>Yo, you gonna play 2nite or what?\n\nGary wants another go in Rocket League. If I can shake out of the butterflies, I'm actually going on this date with Jessie.\n\n>No, man. Got a date.\n\nSooner than I set my phone down I get a text buzz.\n\n>Bullshit\n\n>For real. Jessie and I @ Rockies game.\n\nMy phone lights on fire. I got 5 new messages\n\n>CHAD\n\n>You get those jumbotrons in?\n\n>GARY\n\n>getting digits!\n\n>We def on for late 2nite then? 2 cool to talk shit now that you have a girlfriend I see.\n\n>JESSIE\n\n>Hey\n\n>Where are you?\n\nOh shit, I lost track of time. I've got 15 minutes to get this shit all sorted and leave for Jessie's.\n\n> Yeah, man. It's gonna be up in time.\n\n> IMMA FUCKING DESTROY YOUR ASS TONIGHT!\n\n> I'll be there in a sec.\n\nAs my phone sat on the desk, I creeping sensation crawled up my spine. Did I type that correctly? Oh shit, I screwed up bad.\n\nI got 2 new messages.\n\n> JESSIE\n\n> What!?! Ew\n\n> omg ur a creep\n\nMy eyes are glued to Jessie's texts. You couldn't write this sort of stupid stuff in a movie. I've got to figure this out... I fire off a bevy of defensive texts.\n\n> So Sorry\n\n> Sent that text to the wrong person\n\n> Was meant for Gary\n\n> I meant\n\n> See you in a sec\n\nI finish the jumbotron stuff and launch down the hall. It's not perfect, but who's gonna notice anyway. If it was really important they wouldn't make an intern do it, right? Running down the hallway, I get another text.\n\n> JESSIE\n\n> LOL It's FINE. C U Later :)\n\nBy the time I get to Jessie's apartment I'm too flustered to be nervous anymore. The game had already started, so we decided to leave straightaway instead of hanging out.\n\nWe roll into the stadium in time for the second inning. I look for our seats and Jessie splits off to grab some food. Everything's *finally* coming up Milhouse.\n\nJessie makes it back with a stadium dog and sodas after a quick 1-2-3 inning. She hands me my Mountain Dew \"Hey, you got like super weird after Chad showed up. I don't want you to think this is a...\"\n\nJessie trails off and stops mid-sentence. Oh man, she's gonna reject me and I haven't even asked her out yet. That's my luck today.\n\nExcept she doesn't say anything. I look over, she's slack-jawed. In fact, the entire stadium is dead quiet. I follow their gazes down to a pair of seats by the Rockies' bench.\n\nThere's a woman with her face cradled by her palms and a man turned beet red streaming a word a second and gesticulating wildly. I reluctantly turn back to Jessie in preparation for the rest of her rejection, and that's when I see it.\n\nI didn't send the wrong message to Jessie after all... on the Jumbotron in 4' font for all 20,000 fans reads:\n\nHAPPY 20th ANNIVERSARY BARBARA,\n\nIMMA FUCKING DESTROY YOUR ASS TONIGHT\n\n\"Whoops.\""
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Found this on askreddit and thought it would be a good writing prompt. :)
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[WP] You are the ruler of heck, the lesser version of hell. What are some of your eternal punishments?
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"In Hell, the damned are ruled by Satan. In Heck, they are managed by Toby.\n\n$3 billion seems like a lot of money until you have to use it to feed, clothe, house, and torture millions of the damned with it. Yes, technically they weren't \"the damned\", but \"the darned\". Toby, however, was not going to put up with that sort of try-hard condescension. To him, they were as damned as anyone. And he made sure they'd feel it. At breakfast: jawbreakers for denture-wearers. At dinner: habaneros for burn victims. And at supper, fish cake for everyone. The slight nausea in Toby's stomach suggested to him he was on the right track. In Heck, in contrast to Hell, there weren't any screams of pain, cries of anguish, or impromptu renditions of Celine Dion's \"My Heart Will Go On\". It wasn't that bad. And it wasn't meant to be. It was only slightly worse than being alive. Unless you were from Croydon. Then it was about the same.\n\nIn 1637, a demon by the name of Nathaniel Thorne found loophole in the Book of Revelations resulting in those who had spent more than four score and thirteen years in Purgatory being farmed out to the far cheaper expanses of Heck. A few inmates of Hell were bumped up a class, too. They were quite chuffed until they realized the internet was dial-up. Hell had broadband. In 1639, Toby became Heck's first administrator. And the only one so far. Cracking linoleum floors, dirty sleeping quarters, and worn-out faux leather couches: before he fell asleep, Toby would dream of making Heck the Motel 6 of afterlife accommodation.",
"I watched as the petty old jerk was thrown at my feet. He looked confused. He looked around and then up at me.\n\n\"Where am I ?\", he asked.\n\n\"You, my asshole friend are in Heck. The most terrifying afterlife for people who are kind've an asshole but not quite serial killer level.\"\n\n\"That's a thing ?\"\n\n\"Of course it's a thing.\"\n\n\"Why are we in a bouncy castle ?\"\n\n\"Because you don't get a real castle until you get promoted to downstairs in Hell, but don't be fooled. It is still as menacing as the castle below. It may not have endless hallways and coals for floor but it does have one thing that will make your spine chill. It looks like a bouncy castle yet when you get inside, the floors are rigid and bounceless.\" \n\n\nI let out an evil laugh.\n\n\n\n\"Eh\", said the old man. \"Doesn't really bother me.\"\n\n\"What ?\"\n\n\"It's not that bad.\"\n\n\"But, you think it's gonna be fun. And then you have to walk the normal way instead of bouncing.\"\n\n\"I prefer walking anyways.\"\n\n\"What kind of asshole **prefers** walking ? Are you a maniac ?\"\n\nHe simply shrugs as I get increasingly infuriated. \n\n\"Do not expect me to hold back on your punishments, buddy. That ship has sailed.\"\n\n\"What're you gonna do to me ?\"\n\n\"Well lets have a look, shall we ?\"\n\n\nI scrolled through his list of sins.\n\n\n\"It says here that you laughed at a frail old woman falling down that one time.\"\n\n\"Oh yeah\", chuckled the old man. \"That gets me every time.\"\n\nI scowled at his enjoyment.\n\n\"For that.... I hereby, as Lord of Heck, sentence you to an eternity of half baked sneezes. Every time you go to sneeze, your nose will get extremely ticklish and irritated with no satisfaction.\"\n\nI chuckled evilly.\n\n\n\"Oh the discomfort !\", I roared.\n\n\"Why are you wearing a paper crown ?\", asked the old man.\n\n\"Well if you **must** know, you don't get an actual crown until you rule Hell.\"\n\nThe old man laughed. Him. Laughing at me. Heck's Bells, I am sick of this job. I feel myself getting angrier. I calm myself. I can't embarrass myself in front of my brother again this week. He may be the ruler of Hell, but I still have my dignity.\n\n\"Next on your list of sins is verbally attacking a teenager for dying his hair.\"\n\n\"He looked ridiculous.\"\n\n\"Well he's not the one who's struggling to sneeze in Heck, now, is he ? For this, I sentence you to an eternity of spilling a small amount of water on your shirt every single time you get a drink. That way, you'll always have a blot of water soaked into you. Oh the inconvenience !\"\n\n\"Meh\", said the old man. \"It's hot in here anyways. I could use the cool down.\"\n\nI clenched my fists.\n\n\"Where is all the fire and brimstone ?\", asked the old man. \"Outside there's only a desert.\"\n\n\"Hell has fire and brimstone. As I'm sure you've already noticed, Heck has sand that's hot enough to be painful but not so hot as to cause injury. Oh the irritation !\"\n\n\"I kinda like the warm sand. It soothes me.\"\n\nI grind my teeth.\n\n\"Alright ! That's it. Time to pull out the big guns. You asked for it. Your final punishment. For an eternity. I. Sentence. You. To. Always having an itch that you can never scratch.\"\n\nI sat back in my bounceless throne and waited for this bombshell to sink in.\n\n\"Okey dokey\", said the old man. \"At least it'll give me something to focus on while I'm in this stupid ass bounceless castle.\"\n\n\"ALRIGHT. THAT'S IT. I QUIT !\", I yelled and got up, stepped on my paper crown and stomped my way out.\n\nI turned in the doorway to insult the old man one last time. I saw the old man laughing uncontrollably in my throne as he grew in size and morphed into his true form.\n\n\"I got you so good, brother\", wheezed the Devil through tears of laughter. \"You are so gullible !\"\n\n\"For Heck's sake, Luci !\"",
"\"Welcome to Heck\" a cheery, slightly squeeky, voice chimed from an intercom. \n\nToday was the day, I was showing around the big Boss, el Diablo himself. His corporeal form was that of a small, sleek businessman, sharp but easy to miss in a crowd. I needed to keep myself in check, I love to chat, I could just go on and on and on, but I know he won't like that.\n\nMy name is Billy, and I'm the Manager of Heck. Heck is where people go when they are darned in life, but not quite enough to go to the old double hockey sticks. Today was inspection day, so see that what I was doing was just evil enough.\n\nI had started the day by showing el hefe around the town, its a nice little suburban area. There are a few extra potholes in the roads, and the neighbors respective hedges are just over the property lines (on both sides). Generally its just a little less well kept then you would like. The boss wasn't that impressed, but I wasn't worried, the real magic is in my store.\n\nHeck is a convenience, general, everything store. We sell everything, literally, everything besides the houses themselves are supplied from our store. We only sell 12 hour products, after 12 hours *poof* it disappears into the ether.\n\nThe boss had been silent through the whole tour thus far, but he looked up when I explained this. \"So they have to come here everyday?\"\n\"Yes!\" I replied, trying not to sound too chipper, I know he hates it when I do that.\nI brought him over to the first station, the Greeter, its was me, I love my job. \"First I meet everyone who comes through the door with a biiiig hello and a smile! And then I just follow them for a bit, asking about their day, reminding them to smile, and giving them a biiiig hug!\" I paused for a moment \"sorry sir.\" I said, letting go.\nNext we go to aisles, each one is organized by year of invention starting from the stick.\n\"Do these end?\" said the Boss, gesturing down the length of the aisles.\n\"Nope!\" I happily replied. \"And every 15 feet is stocked with 2 carts places just so you can't pass without asking, 3 toddlers (two of which are crying, all 3 are pooping), and one barking dog. Every 15 feet there is a little lost lady who spills something on you. There is a help button every 60 feet, of which every other one is broken. If pressed, the help button will summon a minion who will direct you one aisle over to another minion. The fourth minion will redirect to the first one.\"\n\nThe boss was silent at this, I worked hard at it so I hope he liked it.\n\n\"Next we have our counters, for meat, fish, hockey sticks and mountain biking. All of our attendants are trained exclusively on different sections from what they are assigned, and none of them know how to use the intercom. When asked for help they tell you they are unsure and spawn a new minion to ask that question too. Every 5th minion asks you to clarify if you meant *something completely different*.\"\n\nMore silence, I do hope he likes it, he seems attentive at least.\n\n\"And finally there are the cashiers, they each take a 15 minute phone break between customers before letting them through.\"\n\nThe great evil himself looked me dead in the eye (gave me shivers it did) \"Do they charge exorbitant prices?\"\n\n\"Oh no no, they don't charge money (silly), they just tell you which third of your items have the wrong bar codes and need to be switched out. If someone wants to leave anyway they just let them know how long of the 12 hours they have left since they took the item off the shelf.\"\n\n\"It seems a little nice to let them keep the products, it lets them get something out of this whole extravagance.\" The Boss raised an eyebrow questioningly, I knew he would like this one.\n\n\"Oh but Boss, that would only be true if the products worked\".\n\n\"Billy, I think its time for a promotion.\"\n\n"
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My husband requested I post this prompt. Make something beautiful.
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[WP] ...And they made beautiful music together.
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"The steady count of the waltz matched his heartbeat.\n\nOne, two, three. One, two, three. One, two, three.\n\nI could hear our feet tapping on the floor over the record,\n\nAnd the rain pouring outside.\n\nHis head on my shoulder, and his hand on my back.\n\nThis night would surly be our last.\n\nOne, two, three...\n\nMy violin was louder than the crackling of the record, his piano was louder than my fear.\n\nWe danced all night, his heart on mine\n\nI dreamed of a different time\n\nWhen we recorded this very waltz\n\nWhen there was no fight,\n\nWhen our love was secret.\n\nOne, two, three...\n\nThe sun is peaking over the darkness, threatening our anonymity.\n\nWe have been dancing all night.\n\nI don't remember when the music stopped, or when the tears started,\n\nBut his eyes are wet, and so are mine.\n\n*It's a lover's waltz* he had said to me when we first wrote it, in a bar in 1930. *I'll dance it at my wedding* He said, a sad smile growing.\n\nBut tonight, in the early dawn, this was not a lover's waltz.\n\nIt was a requiem.\n\nFor our love.\n\nFor our last night.\n\nSo when the sun lit up our pain, I moved the needle off the scratching record and downed a glass of wine.\n\nOur waltz, of another time, of another place. \n\nWritten so softly,\n\nDanced with so much pain.\n\nOur last kiss,\n\nBefore the cops came.\n\nBefore they made me chose- prison or war?\n\nBefore the shame hit my lover.\n\nThat waltz we made as friends- just friends- who made beautiful music together. \n\nThe waltz we may never do again.\n\nSo in the morning, when I left his arms to join the fight,\n\nI prayed the music never died.",
"\"Flint, what happens when Men die?\"\n\nFaith's question floated softly in the warm summer's air, hanging over the low crackling fire built before them. Their plates and cups had been washed and dried, the cook pot scoured with steel wool and sand. Above them shone all the countless stars in the clear sky, the great ethereal cloud known as in the tongue of Men as the Milky Way filling the night with a gentle light. There was no moon tonight. \n\nHilary Flint was wrapped up in his green cloak, his callused hands cradling his chin. Faith could see the scars on them, the thin white lines caused from cuts and slashes and the dull red burn marks. He raised a brow.\n\n\"Why? Curiosity's sake?\"\n\nHis voice wasn't tired, nor was it annoyed. It was, Faith realized, the same tone her tutors and instructors used during her many years studying. Pointed, yet simultaneously compassionate. Faith shrugged, hopefully nonchalant. \n\n\"I suppose so,\" she replied. \"I've known Humans before, some have lived in the castle town beneath my family's seat, but I've never been a Human funeral. There are books of course, but they don't...\"\n\n\"Tell what goes on between the lines,\" said Flint. He rubbed a thumb against a week's worth of beard, the hairs scraping against the thumb's swordsman calluses. \"It all depends. Do the Elves of Alathir have the same mortuary rituals as the Salamanders in the Ohio?\"\n\nFaith leaned back, fury flashing in her eyes. \"Of course not! Those savages burn their parents and grandparents to ash! We're nothing like so half-civilized beasts.\"\n\nFlint grinned. \"The same goes for Men. Some cremate their dead, others burying them. A few groups left their remains for the carrion birds and beasts, though I'm fairly certain they're all gone by now.\"\n\n\"And your people, what do they do?\" Faith asked, perhaps a tad too forward. She winced at her impropriety. \n\n\"Burial mostly. Though we'll settle for a funeral pyre if there's no time or the heat's too great. If they were a good person with many friends and family members, there's often a great celebration of the deceased's life where memories and stories are shared. Traitors and criminals, we usually bury in a unmarked grave, sometimes face down with a good view into Hell if they deserved it.\"\n\n\"And their souls?\"\n\nFlint's grin vanished as he sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. A few strands were just beginning to turn gray, proof that even he was ultimately bound to time and its eternal wheel. His eyes, which were the color of slate or stormy seas, seemed almost sad to Faith.\n\n\"No one knows. Your Arrival opens up an uncomfortable amount of uncertainty in regards to that question. Some believe in a sole single afterlife where deeds both good and bad are weighed and judged. Others believe in reincarnation of the soul, to be reborn again and again. And to answer your inevitable question. No, I don't know what happens after I die.\"\n\n\"But if you could choose?\" she asked. Somewhere in the darkness an owl hooted. \n\nFlint said nothing for the longest moment, his eyes staring deep into the fire's flickering flames. He prodded the logs with a branch, and added a few more pieces of bark to the coals. \n\n\"There's a idle dream among us Rangers, more like a wish found at the bottom of a bottle than a true belief. Upon the moment of our death, everything we've suffered is erased and we go back to the day before the Arrival, our memories wiped clear of the past twenty years. And we move on. No Fae, no lost love ones. We start anew.\"\n\n\"But then... Everything you seen or done, loved or built would-\"\n\n\"Have been for nothing? Perhaps. Is it worth losing twenty years worth of new families, of second-loves? Like I said, it's more a drunken lullaby than a true believer's dream. The younger generation, those born after the Arrival, this world is all they've ever known. Elves, Salamanders, Spriggans and the other Fae, they're as natural to the youths as the stars in the sky. But for those of the old breed, we lost something that day. We lost control of our own destiny.\"\n\nHe glanced down at his hands and all its scars. \n\n\"I used to love playing the guitar. I made music. Now? Now I don't play, the memories too painful to remind myself with. Once I lived for beauty. Now I live for vengeance and found it an empty, hollow thing. I dream about the days I made beautiful music. I dream about the day I might make it once again. I dream, because in his sleep even a pauper can be richer than a king.\" ",
"He heard her coming down the street as always, a beautiful voice that could probably coax the sun itself out of bed and the Devil to re-enter Heaven in search of the singer. She always sang or hummed to herself, her song lilting and spinning and dancing above the hustle and bustle on the sidewalk like a butterfly.\n\nA pair of feet paused in front of him, and he smiled and tilted his head up. He couldn't see her, of course - Jason had been blind since birth- but she had to be there, brightening up his day as Ellie did every time they met up in front of the park. \n\n\"That you again, Ellie?\" \n\n\"Of course!\" There was a big grin in her tone. \"Remember how you told me about the saxaphone you used to have? Guess what we got in today! Happy Birthday, or not-birthday, or...whatever you want to celebrate, Jason.\" \n\nSomething heavy and large was reverently placed into his hands, and Jason carefully traced over the countours of what he eventually figured out had to be a saxaphone case as he inspected the object his friend had placed into his lap. \"Oh...no way! It's been years!\" A wide smile danced its way to the furthest corners of his face as he cracked open the case and felt the cool steel of the instrument.\n\n\"My price is that you play for me!\" \n\n\"Only if you'll sing as I play!\" He grinned broadly and carefully orientated himself to the instrument in its case and then lifted it out, feeling it carefully and giving it a few test toots to see if he was holding it correctly. Seemed that old habits and muscle memory really did die hard- he could tell quickly that he was holding it correctly. \n\n\"What say we start easy? Twinkle Twinkle Little Star!\" Ellie's tone was full of life and laughter. \"Then we can try the fancy stuff.\"\n\nJason started playing the tune, the notes drifting into the lazy afternoon as passerby began to listen to the friends make beautiful music together. ",
"\"I... I can't do this.\" Jonathan said as the music came to an abrupt stop. They have been practicing for hours, and he still struggled to get the beats right. He was beginning to think that it was just not something he could do. He was the least musically inclined out of the four people in the room.\n\nJudy, the band's vocalist and leader, signaled to Mike and Trevor to leave the room. Both obliged, happy to catch a break. She then walked over to where Jonathan sat, behind the drum set. Her face was sympathetic, but it too betrayed a hint of frustration. \"Look Jonathan, you know our band cannot function without a drummer.\"\n\nJonathan sighed. It was something that he knew, which was why he agreed to the gig in the first place, despite also knowing that he was nowhere near the skill level of the rest. No matter how much he tried, his hands and feet could never move the way he wanted them to. He could not respond as fast to the way the songs changed. He only agreed to play because he wanted to honour the memory of his brother, James.\n\n\"I think you guys should consider going acoustic,\" Jonathan muttered, staring at the cymbal. Who was he kidding? He was nothing like James. That was why James was the musician, and he the software programmer.\n\nJudy kept quiet for the longest time. When she spoke, her eyes were misty. \"But... James, we just can't our direction...\"\n\nJonathan stood up and placed his hand on her shoulder. He smiled at Judy. Like him, she has not been taking his death easy. After all, the band was their brainchild. \"It's okay. I'm sure James will understand. And I will help out in any other way that I can.\"\n\nOn the day of the performance, Jonathan stood at the podium, looking at the three of them. Judy stepped forward to the stage, dressed in a simple black dress. Both Mike and Trevor chose matching grey suits as well.\n\nShe placed her hands on the mic stand and exhaled. Thousands of eyes stared expectantly at her. They all knew about James too. Her eyes scanned the stadium, and spotted Jonathan. She smiled lightly. \"As you all may know, today's performance will be a little different. For James, our beloved drummer, mascot and dear friend.\"\n\nJudy raised her hands to Mike and Trevor, a gesture that she has always done before a performance. Jonathan smiled, almost seeing James with them. And they made beautiful music together.\n\n----------------------\n\n/r/dori_tales\n\n",
"Everyday, he was there. The tall, dark-skinned male plucking the strings of his guitar would be there, sitting in the corner of the street. He would play songs for the public, without fail, whether they enjoyed it or not.\n\nAnd they didn't like it. Not one bit. They couldn't understand the arrangement of the musical notes, the pace of the songs, no, they refused to understand the melody. But one woman understood him perfectly.\n\nEveryday, she was there. The petite, caucasian lady with light brown hair and her small blue handbag. She was always smiling at him as he played his guitar. He would always smile back. She would sometimes dance a jig, sometimes hum along, but she will always give a soft smile at the songs. And she knew how to understand the melody.\n\nBut the public didn't understand her. They didn't accept her. Whenever they see her dancing to his songs, they would mock her. Poke fun at her. They would constantly ask her, \"Have you no taste in music?\" and accompany that question with a string of insincere laughter. But she wouldn't mind them. She would continue dancing, much to his amazement.\n\nOne day, the man decided to talk to the lady. He patiently waited at his spot and sure enough, the woman came. She looked surprised at the absence of his guitar, but still granted him a smile. That same, faithful smile that kept him going despite the jeers and mockery of others. He gestured for her to sit beside him.\n\n\"So... My name is Micah,\" said the man nervously. The woman stared at him with those large, dark brown eyes of her. She opened her mouth to say something, but then shyly looked away and began playing with her hands.\n\nMicah's face felt warm as he watched the lady's actions. \"What's your name?\" muttered Micah, feeling shy.\n\nThe lady suddenly took out her phone and began tapping away at it. Micah was confused; hadn't she been enjoying his music? Why was she treating him like this? Then Micah realized that people were noticing them. The untalented guitarist and the woman who enjoyed his music. He saw their disgusted looks, and he felt stupid. Clearly this woman didn't want anything to do with him. \n\nHe stood up, and the woman looked up at him in surprise.\n\n\"Sorry you had to be around me,\" said Micah, and he hurried away. The woman slipped her phone in her pocket and stood up, a confused look settled upon her features.\n\nWhen Micah returned the next day, he saw a mailman waiting boredly at his usual spot.\n\n\"Why are you here?\" asked Micah suspiciously to the mailman, who turned his eyes lazily towards him.\n\n\"Are you-\" the mailman then shoved his hands into his left pocket and brought out a letter, which he then smoothened and read the name on it \"-The Man Who Plays The Guitar, Who I Believe Is Named Micah who lives on The Corner Of Maybury Street?\"\n\nMicah was shocked when he heard that. \"What is that, a Hogwarts letter or something?\" asked Micah, jokingly.\n\nThe mailman was not amused. \"Uh, no. A good friend of mine asked me to deliver this to you. Normally I wouldn't do this, but she IS my close friend so...\" the mailman held out the letter and Micah took it from him, already prying it open.\n\n\"Thanks,\" he said, and the mailman waved away as he walked off. Micah took out the letter in the envelope and tried to read the neat and cursive handwriting on it.\n\n'Dear Micah, \n It is I, the woman who normally listens to your music. Although, I should apologise, for I have been lying to you. I have never listened to your music, guitarist. You see, I am deaf, and as much as I would love to listen to you play, I can't.The reason why I dance and hum along to your music is because although I am deaf, I am not blind. I can see people mocking you because of your music, which I do not understand. Aren't people supposed to be grateful because they can hear? I could never fathom human beings... \n\nThe reason I wrote this letter is because you suddenly walked off after you asked my name. Just a sidenote, I can read lips very well, but I was afraid that you didn't understand ASL. My name is Evelyn, which I was going to tell you through my phone, but you left... I am really sorry if I bothered you in anyway... I just wanted you to know that you shouldn't stop playing because I know that someone out there will love your music. \n\nLove,\nEvelyn'\n\nMicah folded the letter and realized that he was biting his lip very hard that it drew blood. He glanced at the spot where Evelyn sat and gripped the letter tighter. He sat down, and began playing once more.\n\nDays passed until finally, Evelyn returned. She looked timid, her hand tightly clutching the strap of her blue handbag, but Micah jumped to his feet with a smile. \n\n\"Evelyn!\" said Micah, running towards her. Evelyn gave a shy wave.\n\n\"I, uh, got your letter...\" Evelyn turned pink as she read his lips and cast her eyes downwards, before shaking her head and meeting his eyes again.\n\nMicah began feeling the same shy feeling he got around her. \"I just wanted to ask you something...\" asked Micah. Evelyn nodded and he cleared his throat.\n\n\"If you can't... ya know, hear... Then how are you able to dance and hum along?\" asked Micah.\n\nEvelyn looked taken aback. She fumbled with her bag and took out a notepad and a pencil. She wrote something on it and passed it onto Micah.\n\n\"\"I was in sync to your music?!\"\" it read, and Micah looked at Evelyn with wide eyes. She had simply danced and sang along?\n\n\"Y-yeah!\" stuttered Micah.\n\nEvelyn smiled widely and slowly took her notepad back. She wrote again and gave it to Micah, this time shyly.\n\n\"\"I guess... Your music is my inner melody...\"\" Micah felt his face turn warm at this statement but he gave a smile to Evelyn. \n\n\"Evelyn... Can you... Stay with me and sing for me?\" muttered Micah, a blushing mess. Evelyn, luckily could read his lips despite him muttering. She nodded happily and laced her fingers with his.\n\nAnd they made beautiful music together.",
"A bagpipe from Scotland was holding a drone, \nThe melody piercing, and playing alone. \nFor nobody else, not even the maid \nWas willing to face such a sound that was made.\n\nThe cry of a battle, \nThe wail near the wall, \nWas singing to no one, \nTo someone, to all.\n\nAlong came another who set up his stand, \nThen played the plaintive accordion and \nThen mingled and mangled the music 'til number, \nBut still thought of rhythms that might help the drummer.\n\nThe cry of a battle, \nThe wail near the wall, \nWas singing to no one, \nTo someone, to all.",
"\"Listen, I have something to tell you before we go any further,\" She pushes his lips off her collarbone. She always hated this part. The conversation. Where the men sat next to her in a mixture of pity and disbelief. \n\"Don't tell me, you're pregnant,\" He grins mischievously. Ugh. His grin. It did it to her every time. So weak and pitiful yet full of hope. He was a puppy dog. A living puppy dog and he was so adorable she wanted to eat him up. \n\"Yes,\" She rolls her eyes. Ugh. Her eye roll. It did it to him every time. It's like she was this little girl, bursting with sincerity, only she hated sincerity. Sincerity wasn't cool so she masked it with a false hardened shell that he couldn't wait to crack through. \n\"Hallelujah, we have us here a miracle, Jebus baby,\" He raises his hands to the heavens. \nShe takes his hands and softens a little. Just enough to catch him off guard. Then again, he's always caught off guard when those baby blue eyes stare deep into his. \n\"Be serious, please?\" She commands. Well, it's too soft to be a command. But it's firm enough for him to comply. \n\"Ok. Serious. Check. Not a joke in sight. Jokes, please leave the room now, we're about to have a serious conversation. We don't want you messing things up.\" \n\"So, there's something about me that you should know. Something most men find weird,\" Her voice falters. Like she's going to cry. \n\"What is it?\" \n\"It's about my vagina...\" \n\"Teeth? Is it teeth?\" \n\"I said no jokes.\" \n\"Damn it,\" He lightly hits his head. \"Jokes, I told you to leave.\" \n\"No. It. Well, it,\" She drops her head into hands and lowers both into her knees. Before snapping up quickly. \"It makes a saxophone noise when I orgasm.\" \n\"Who put you up to this?\" He suddenly stands. Almost angry. Guys are normally scared when she admits this, not angry. Soon he's looking out the window, behind curtains. \"Is it Collin? Collin get out here you miserable fuck.\" \n\"What are you talking about?\" She tracks him as he paces around the room in a fevered state. \n\"It was Collin wasn't it? He told you my dick makes a cello noise when I orgasm and now you two are mocking me. That's it, isn't it?\" \n\"Your dick makes a cello noise?\" She asked. But, not scared or disgusted like other girls. No. It was hopeful. \nThen he looked at her face, really looked at it. Dripping with that hardened sincerity he loved so much and smiled. Out of all the women in the world. All the dates gone wrong. Sexual mishaps. Embarrassed nights listening to his dick play songs for unimpressed women, this one had a vagina that could sing back. \nShe smiled too. Slowly dropping her skirt. He knew what to do after that and they made beautiful music together. "
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[WP] Your ex wrote a book about you. How would the book be?
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"If one of my exes wrote a book about me, it would read like a strange, sad, but in a way wonderful dream. It would start off with a boy, intelligent, quirky, head in the clouds. At first he wouldnt make much sense but as the book progresses he would blossom as a character, intelligence and tact showing past the weird obsessions and lonely musings. Suddenly, something would go wrong. As his confidence fades, he draws into himself, imploding into nothing. The book would end at the end of a world, and as he and his former partner separate there is nothing but pain and regret in his heart. Maybe it would end there, or maybe it would end as he finds his resolve again, and starts off toward a better future.\n\n"
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[WP] The angel weeps for man because they see death as evil, but it is, in fact, a mercy.
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"Saya held the bleeding man in her arms, her long white feathered wings covering the two and sheltering them from the rain. His business attire was missing a coat, his tie and shirt was loosened and soaked. Red and water streamed from his head and mixed in with the fibers of his clothes.\n\nShe had broken a tenent to perform this act, perhaps even at the risk of her own existence.\n\n\"If I could, I would have made you immortal.\" She told him. It was a blashpemous thought.\n\nThe man laughed at the remark, and coughed up more blood. He felt no pain but his body withered and did so slowly at the expense of the angel's grace.\n\n\"Why would I want that?\" He smiled, blood trickling from his lips.\n\n\"I have watched your life. Followed you through all your troubles and perils. Would you not want more time?\"\n\n\"Then you know that this isn't a life.\"\n\n\"You are still young.\"\n\n\"Thirty-five years, my life up to this point has just been drinking and regrets.\" He turned his head to look at the frozen headlights of the truck and people around him. In his drunken stupor he had slipped and fallen onto the road into on-coming traffic. From across the street a man was dashing in their direction but he was stuck in time, approaching at millionths of a second.\n\n\"It's too late for me to turn back and just right the wrongs. There's no redemption for people like me. I've *ruined* lives.\" His body relaxed as life continued to leave it. A warmth had now surrounded him and put him in a daze.\n\n\"Is this the part where you take me away?\" He asked.\n\n\"I can.\" She replied quietly.\n\n\"I never thought...\" He coughed violently. \"I never thought I was worth having an angel watching over me. I didn't even believe in that stuff.\"\n\n\"You think too little of yourself. So many of you do.\"\n\n\"It's a habit.\" He grinned, teeth lined with viscous bright red. \n\n\"How could living a lifetime of suffering, only to die be a benefit?\" She spoke to herself in grief as tears welled in her eyes. \n\nThe man looked past her, eyes beginning to glaze over. His time was coming to an end soon. Saya placed a hand to his heart and it began to glow, the luminescence transferring into the mortal's body. This rite would make his existence cease, to be reborn again. Memories anew.\n\n\"If you told us we could live forever...\" He suddenly spoke, looking into the eyes of the angel whose tears pattered against his chest.\n\n\"No death, no urgency, no timer... life would lose all value.\"\n\nThe glow grew to an intense white light and Saya had to turn away. When she looked again, there was nothing but her blood soaked arms before her. The tears that came after was no longer for them, but for her foolishness."
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[WP] You're indestructible, but that's your only superpower; you're no stronger or more athletic than the average civilian.
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"Rain in Seattle is less than expected; it's guaranteed. But today the rain pounded the outside of my cheap 2006 Toyota a little harder than usual. \nAnd since I literally couldn't afford the extra 30 bucks out of my measly barista paycheck to replace my windshield wipers, I was stuck straining my eyes to see at least 5 feet ahead of me. \nI prudently turned my car onto the overpass with the care of a blind man in a war zone.\nAnd to be perfectly honest I was doing a damn good job. \nAt least until a bus materialized in front of me. \n\nI was screwed. It's brake lights were on, and in that moment of adrenaline-field perceptive clarity I saw the tragic outline of backed-up traffic that extended from the front of the bus all the way down the overpass. \nI was screwed. \nI yanked the steering wheel to the right, hoping to God that the concrete barrier would stop my car from careening into the bay below. \n\nApparently the city needs to hire new concrete mixers. \n\nMy car flew off the 80 foot tall overpass like an impotent bullet to heaven. \nIn the next instance the car was in the water. \nI don't know what shocked me more; the fact that I wasn't dead, or the fact that I soon would be. \nAs the water rushed through the cracks of the windshield, I sat and marveled at how dark it had gotten. \nWas I 50 feet underwater now? 30? 40? 100? \nI didn't know. \nBut I did know that once the car hit the sea floor with a deafening *thud*, escaping has been much, much harder than dying. "
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[WP] Every god ever worshipped by humanity is/was real. a god gets more powerful the more followers they get, and dies when their last follower dies. You are Thor.
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"I sat in silence, the darkness brooding and comforting. I ran my fingers over the cold surface of the steel weapon clasped in my hand. I glanced at the empty beer bottle, empty ... not a drop left. ah well, not like I need to ever get another one anyway. I drank everything I had in my stock tonight. Why, you ask? Well, why not?\n\nMy thoughts turned from the beer bottle and towards my life.\n\nFor hundreds and hundreds of years, I was a proud warrior. I was known and respected. Mortals knew me, feared me, and worshipped me. The beginning of the end started a thousand years ago already, when I found myself stranded in this forsaken place, a place not meant for gods. It's just gotten worse over time.\n\nLol, time. What's the fucken point? What's the point of me being here, a nobody now, alone, forgotten?\n\nI thought of my family. Such a long time ago. All gone. Even Loki, that bastard, I haven't heard from him in several decades now. My mind then turned, quite involuntarily, to my father. Shit. He probably won't even miss me.\n\nI brought up the weapon, stuck the barrel in my mouth. *Fuck Wednesday*, I thought, and pulled the trigger.",
"For centuries, I had been powerful.\n\nFor centuries, I had been respected. \n\nFor centuries, I had wielded Mjolnir against the frost giants, protecting Midgard from their snowy wrath. I had faced off against the most terrible of monsters. I had been the Terrible, the One Who Rides Alone, the Slayer of Giants, the Basher of Trolls. \n\nThen the Viking age ended. My siblings and brothers-in-arms were unconcerned at first– Ragnarok had not yet come! Surely the age of the Aesir would not end so soon! Then they began to fade. The lesser ones were the first to go: a few minor Aesir, children of children of children of gods. Some suspected Loki, but the trickster was as baffled as the rest of us. In the feast hall of the slain, the revelries began to dim. The fallen warriors, the Einherjar, muttered amongst themselves. Who would be the next to go? Would an Aesir fall next? Who would it be? Then, one day, it happened.\n\nPoor Tyr. He always got the short end of the stick. That nasty business with Fenris back then had never left him the same, and I mean more than in the form of a lost hand. Despite being such a popular god, his followers had dwindled rapidly, and one day hundreds of them were sent streaming into Valhalla. A raid gone wrong, or somesuch. However it had happened, the effects were great. In less than a year he had faded completely. But he was only the first Aesir to go– and he would not be the last.\n\nVidar, Vali, Frey, Freya, Tyr, Frig... none of them remained. Even my wife, the lovely Sif, was not exempt from the mass Aesir genocide. I remember her coming to me as her last followers fell, her golden hair fading as she faded away, even as I held her in my arms. \n\nOnly a few gods remain, and even less Aesir– Odin had never lost his followers; as a matter of fact, he had provided directly to their well-being. Well, not quite directly, but it was impossible not to notice that those who worshiped the All-Father, even in secret, tended to be more successful than the normal mortal. Loki, of course, still had his followers. Anyone who took part in trickery or deception gained his favor, and as such, he had thrived throughout the years, always coming back from what seemed like an impossible situation for him to survive. I almost envy the old liar– as long as men existed, trickery will never truly die. \n\nMe, I've always had pockets of followers here and there. My favored were always strong, and able to survive. It's become more difficult to keep a following in today's world, but I must admit it's become easier since my likeness started becoming printed in those books, and shown in those moving picture things that mortals nowadays love so much. But even so, I know that won't last. My following continues to dwindle, and I can feel my power draining by the second. I need a plan for the future– and over the last few centuries, I've started looking into mortal technology, coming up with an idea. And it's a good one, one to put even Loki to shame. \n\nAs far as I can tell, my power comes from my followers.\n\nIt's time to open a Facebook account."
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[WP] You are sent back in time to kill your grandfather.
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"It must be done.\nIt must be done.\nIt must be done.\n\nI kept repeating this over and over to myself as tears streamed down my face. I tightened my grip around his neck hoping that it would decrease his struggling but it only made it worse. He kicked and flailed, trying to grasp one last breath. I could have done it with a gun and shot him while he slept but then what kind of coward would I be then?\n\nIt must be done.\nIt must be done. \nIt must be done.\n\nAs my tears fell on the man's face I couldn't help but remember everything he'd done for me. The man who's life I was taking was a man that I had known my entire life. He is.... or was my grandfather. The man who had raised me when my father left me and my mother died of an overdose. The man who's soft face had always comforted me when I needed it and always had toffee candy in his coat pocket to make me smile. He was there when I needed him and he never gave up on me. He gave me every advantage to get ahead in life. He helped me buy my first house. He bought me my first car. He was my hero and he always said I was his. And it was because of him and his help that I was able to work for the Correction Team.\n\nI wanted to be a time traveler my entire life. I think it had to do with me wanted to meet my parents. But really I just wanted to make my grandfather proud. It always felt like whenever I reached one of my dreams so did he. Through his connections he got me the interview with the Correction Team. They were a highly respected group of people who were time travelers. With a team of about 10 people it was next to impossible to get the job let alone an interview. But my grandfather helped me, like he always did.\n\nHe drove me to the plain office building. I told him to wish me luck and he responded the way he always did \"you don't need lucky kid.\" I hugged him and got out of the car.\n\"I'll see you around 6 tonight for dinner?\" I asked.\n\"If you mean we celebrate you getting your dream job at 6 tonight, then yes, dinner at 6\" he replied.\nI smiled and turned to walk into the build.\nOn the 49th floor was were my interview took place. It was a bland room with white walls and fluorescent lights. Not exactly the grand office I pictured when I applied.\nThe rather plain looking interviewer in his grey suit with a black tie ran through the normal questions.\n\"What are your strengths?\"\n\"What are your weaknesses?\"\n\"Where do you see yourself in 10 years?\"\nI answered them all as best as I could and then the interviewer looked at me from behind his horn-rimmed glasses and asked me \"Who is the one person you love above everyone else?\"\nThat was the easiest question I'd be asked all day.\n\"My grandfather. He's my hero and he raised me.\" I responded.\nThe interviewer wrote something down and smiled. He looked at me and said \"welcome to the Correction Team son.\"\nI got the job. My dream job. I was now an official time traveler apart of the Correction Team. I would go back and solve problems to make a better future for everyone.\nI celebrated that night with my grandfather. He told me it was the best day of his life.\nThe job started out easy enough. Go back and prevent a person from walking here. Distract a dog from running after a car. Help an old woman cross the street.\nI'd complete my task, get back to the real world, and admire the new building, a happier world, or just a family who was now happy living a life they should have always had. I was making the world a better place. And I was being paid well for my deeds.\n\nI was a successful time traveler for 10 years. I had done it all. I'd saved thousands of people from war and build a beautiful world with the help of the rest of the Correction Team. \nThen everything changed. I got my first kill order. \nI went to my boss and asked why. \n\"You've saved millions from war and famine. You have helped us build our world into something beautiful. You've done it all son. Now it's time for you to save the world again. Your grandfathers death is the final piece to the puzzle. With his death a golden age with be upon us. If he lives everything we've done will be for not. The world you've built will be destroyed. War and chaos will desecrate all that you have created. It must be done.\"\n\nIt must be done. \nIt must be done.\nIt must be done.\n\nAs his life slowly faded and his eyes became more and more blood shot, I began to wonder if it was all worth it. Was my grandfather worth the perfect world I'd created?\nEach time I thought he was more valuable I'd loosen my grip. Each time my world became more valuable in my mind I tightened my grip. I didn't know what to do.\nLoosen. Tighten. Loosen. Tighten. Loosen....",
"My blood line is cursed, every single one of them, trash, scum of the earth, you name it that is what we are. We are all born to kill, boys play with toy robots, I play with guns and knifes, girls play with dolls, my sister plays with torture devices. We are a line of hitmen, the Victima. Since the time of my grandfather, the blood line was tainted by science and experiments to gain senses of the beast, the insane reactions speeds. I am sick of it, I am 19 and I have already killed more people than the number of people that will fit in a bus. Politicians, police officers, gang members, as long as you have the cash, we will have their heads. I want to stop, my sister is only 10 this year and she will be starting her 1st job soon. That is what I want to stop, this sick behavior must be put on hold.\n\nOnce on a job to get a scientist, who apparently pissed off some guys due to his nonsensical babbling and overall annoyance, was my target. Upon chancing into his lab I found that he was already dead, with his limbs torn apart with weird twisting injuries around where is arms and legs should be. There were notes that dictated the possible chance of time travel. That was 3 years ago, I have been secretly pilling up the notes and attempting to re build the machine, tests had been made with various of successes. But if I don't go now I will never go, the family seems to be getting wind of my work. I need to go, back in time to time before my family was screwed over by the top tier of social classes. \n\nWell here goes nothing, I stepped through the gates just as I hear footsteps stomping up the hallway of the secret laboratory "
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[WP]write a short story based on the theme ignorance is bliss
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"The parenting errors of Mrs. Kimball could fill volumes.\n\nIn her own head, though, there was always a defense.\n\nFor every decision she made for her three kids, or, more accurately, for every thing she let happen to them, she'd retroactively find some adage to justify it. Then, she'd add some peppery language to spice it up.\n\nFor example, when her oldest would complain that he wasn't getting enough to eat, she'd tell him:\n\n*\"There's no such thing as a f---ing free lunch.\"*\n\nThe three kids were smart and resilient, though, so they mostly found the whole thing funny. They'd laugh at her when she wasn't around, and do impressions of her, too.\n\n*\"Silence is f---ing golden,\"* they'd say, in a sing-song.\n\n*\"Better late than f---king never.\"*\n\n*\"Don't cry over f---ing g--damn spilt milk.\"*\n\nAs they got much older, though, at least when the oldest and youngest did, they tried to understand her. Once in a while, when they weren't arguing, they'd talk about her, for hours, on cross-country phone calls.\n\nTogether, they realized that their mom's upbringing was pretty lousy, too. She didn't know what to do when she became a parent herself. She was a weak-willed person, but she wasn't malicious.\n\n\"The thing I don't understand, though,\" the youngest once said, \"is why she never told us how sick Deanna was. Don't you think it could've prevented so many problems? If we knew to expect it when it finally happened?\"\n\nThe oldest listened. He thought about it. He agreed with his little sister, but for once, he tried to see things from his mom's perspective, too.\n\n\"I think it would've,\" he said, finally. \"I really do. But, you know what she always said...\"\n\n*\"Ignorance is f---ing bliss.\"*\n\n///\n \n*Scene #94 of /r/100scenes*",
"The wind slips through a crack in the ceiling. It shrieks and keens. \n\n\"That's a song,\" says Mother. \"A song about you.\"\n\n\"The wind sings about me?\" I ask.\n\n\"Everything you hear is a song about you.\"\n\nThat makes me smile.\n\nWhen we go outside, we play a game.\n\n\"Again?\" I say, feigning disappointment.\n\n\"You've never beaten me,\" says Mother, laughing as she presses the helmet down over my head, sealing the clasps around my throat, checking the nozzle, tap-tap-tapping the basin at the back. \"Until you can hold your breath longer than your mother, you have to wear the *Helmet of Shaaaaaame*.\"\n\nShe tickles me and I wail with laughter.\n\nOutside, the sky is purple and green and swirling like water in the sink. I can almost feel the movement through the thick plastic plates.\n\n\"Tut tut, looks like rain,\" says Mother, as we stand at the door. \"Okay. Big breaths. Big breaths. You've got to do better if you want to win!\"\n\nI take my breaths. Mother throws open the door, closes it fast behind her, and we're off. \n\nThe wind pushes me. I push back. In the helmet it's hard to see too much. Empty buildings. That one turned over car. Piles of clothing here and there. Mother pulls my along. We skip the black house and the red building and the sandy dome. Past the places we've been. I'm trying very hard not to breathe. I really want to win. I never do. I look up and barely see Mother there, pulling me along. She's so pretty.\n\nA new house. Yellow shutters. One flower box. The door won't open. Mother drops my hand and looks around. She goes back a bit and finds a mailbox, crooked, but posted to the ground. She kicks it. Kicks it. Kicks it. It comes free and she picks it up, pushes me back, then jabs it into the window. Glass breaks, but I don't hear it over the wind. I breathe. Lost again! \n\nMother points at me, points at the ground. It's the signal to stay put. She climbs the steps and then climbs over to the open window. I wait. I wonder what she'll find this time. I suddenly suspect she might have taken a breath inside the house. How would I know? What a cheat!\n\nThe rain starts again. Everything hisses. The door flies open. Mother waves me into the house.\n\nThe hissing is so loud.\n\n\"You're breathing!\" I shout, pointing at her face. She smiles. Wipes sweat off her forehead.\n\n\"You, too,\" she mouths.\n\nThe rain is heavier than usual. It splashes and sizzles. The sky is the strangest shade of reddish blue.\n\n\"What did you find?\" I ask.\n\nMother shakes her head. Sometimes we don't find anything.\n\n\"Okay. Do we have to wait for the rain to stop?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" she says. Her voice sounds funny. Deeper. Harder. She hugs me and I lean into her. \n\n\"What if it doesn't stop?\"\n\nShe doesn't say anything to that, just hugs me harder. Now even her breathing sounds funny, but I don't say anything. Everything is warm and loud and washed in red. I close my eyes, lulled to sleep by the sound of Mother's breathing and the buzzing sizzle of the rain coming down. "
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[WP] A Neo-Nazi steals a time machine and travels back in time to give a history textbook to Hitler. Instead of winning the war, Germany suffers a crushing and almost-immediate defeat.
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"\"Hitler. I present to you, my great Fuhrer: Basic German History for 8th Graders,\" the newly arrived person said respectfully. \n\n\"I believe that this is...new intelligent?\" The Fuhrer said in heavily accented English, as he struggled to converse in the language his future counterpart was so fluent in. Hitler wanted to tell the man from the future that the book wasn't in German, so it would be challenging to read, but he had already gone. \n\nWith some excitement, Hitler opened the book to read. This book held the future of his war. It would tell the story of how he succeeded or failed, and how the war had occurred. If he had lost, he would know why, and know how to avoid making a similar mistake. This book could grant him the ability to win the war outright. It was that powerful...except that his previous fear was changed to certainty. The book was in dreaded English.\n\nBut he needed to know the contents of that book...\n\nSo bad...\n\nHitler called his personal aide.\n\n\"Prepare to make a trip to England,\" he ordered. The aide, taken aback, rushed to dissuade his master. Hitler waved away his concerns.\n\n\"I need to learn English.\"\n________________________________________________________________\n\nThe Neo-Nazi from the future watched in dismay as Nazi Germany collapsed. Without its leader (who was impotent in England, studying English) morale was low and the war was lost immediately. As German soldiers struggled to flee from the country, the Neo-Nazi sighed.\n\nPerhaps he would try with a different country next time.\n________________________________________________________________\nr/Whale62 for more :)",
"'Finally it is within my grasp!' Jackson thought as he steped in to the bus, strange really that such a powerful and rare device would be stored here of all places, the other passangers looked at him with judgement, normally he would have stared them down but not tonight, no, tonight was different, jackson had just procured the last item needed to finish his machine.\n\nHis hands trembled with exciment. Barely able to get his key in the lock, he shut the door. same as every night the mexican family upstairs were being noisy 'SHUT TGE FUCK UP YOU WET-BACK FILTH!! Goddamm i would fuck each one of them up if i had time' he shut the drapes, flicked the light swich and looked upoon it.\n\nA large pearshaped machine sat in the middle of the room, a strange black metal, smooth but not reflective, taking his backpack off he noticed some egg shell, he was used to this, people would see the tattoos, the skin head, the white tee, he didnt care if people hated him, he liked it, it was his sustanance.\n\nHe pressed the button on a small camera 'my name is jackson smith, i am pure of race and after tonight so to will the world be' he placed the small sphere in to a port on the the strange pear shaped machine, it buzzed and cracked with static, 'i plan to rid the world of impure people, but to do this we need a leader' a sinister smile grew on across his face 'the one true leader'.\n\nHe lifted his highschool text book, dogged and ragged from years of study, duct tape binding the spine and page markers poking for every event he deemed note worthy. A decade of planing hinged on this one night. With a deep breath he steped in to the machine, a ultra violet light flooded the room. Silence. \n\nJackson looked in to the tired face of hitler, a shadow of a man, he would first need to be helped, the book would explain this, he saluted, the old man looked on, jackson waited, nothing, the man seemed more disapointed than shocked, jackson would have liked some reaction 'Furher i am here to save you, please there is not much time, we need to go' the old man just sighed 'ich bin, wo im gemeint zu sein' jackson had only learned german recently and had no idea what his hero had said, it had only occured to him months before that he would need to learn to be able to convince the leader of the 3rd reich to follow his clever plan, hitler sat down, jackson was begining to become confused, why was hitler not shocked by this stranger the poped in to exsistance in front of him? \n\n'This .. is my .. ort ummm place' his lack of suprise was really starting to inrage jackson, 'you mean so much to so many, please come with me' like a child, jackson was now on his knees, kneeling beside his hero, how could he be betrayed like this, he was going to save hitler, he was the one, the one that would bring in a new world order, hitler reached out, jackson was now looking down, his entire life had been spent in admiration of this man, hitlers hand pulled jacksons head up, gentle and soft, he looked in to hitlers eyes 'ich war falsch über alles'\n\nJackson had never heard a gun fire before, he had asumed that it was like a car backfiring like the movies, it wasnt, he felt cold, weak, 'why?' Looking down he felt the blood trickle from the bullet hole, the cobtrast between the hot blood and his cold skin felt like hot coals, he slumped to the ground, he had but moments before his life would be over, he wanted answers *spluttering* 'whhyy?' Blood had begin to fill his mouth.\n\n'Du bist nicht der Erste, der mich besuchen will' hitler said 'Viele sind gekommen, um mich zu töten' jackson felt the hard concrete wall of the bunker begin to feel soft, he only understood a few words the furher had said to him, he hoped they were words of praise, but knew the look all too well, he had seen many friends turn away from the cause, but he never expected this, hitler lifted the gun to his head, the sound seemed to fade, jackson knew this was it, he had failed. \n\nThe end.\n\nThis is my first try at something so in depth, feedback welcome ",
"Stealing the time machine was the easy part. \n\nI look up at my fellow comrades, “Heil Hitler.” I nod my head and immediately I am blinded by a white light. Memories begin to flood. \n\nI remember my briefing before I left. This was my first memory. I was to arrive, find clothes, food and paper and I was to write. Write for months. Everything. I was given an exact moment, I was to meet Hitler and I was to give him all my work. This had to happen before he became dictator otherwise it would have been near impossible. March 30, 1930. That’s the date. That’s when I was to drop in. \n\nMy training. I’ve spent years learning to speak German and getting the exact dialect down. I see myself day after day for 5 years speaking German with my tutor. \n \nIt wasn’t easy you know, keeping a secret from him. He was a bit confused when I explained to him I wanted to learn exactly how Germans spoke in 1930s. I remember how he looked when I asked him. Priceless. Figured I might have been crazy or something. Doesn’t matter anyway, Germany will win and we will be victorious and our future will be changed forever. \n\nMemories kept coming back. They told me this might happen. It seemed like days, weeks maybe. I don’t know. I remember memorizing history books verbatim with maps and everything. Everything I could cram into my brain, I did. Man, those books were boring. \n\nThey told me that I wouldn’t be able to take anything. I had to be completely naked. So I had to memorize.\n\nMore memories. I remember when my father died. I was only 13. I didn’t see it happen, but I’m told he died with honor. I remember seeing his body, bullet holes, we burned him. Swastikas were flying high that night. \n\nMy father was a Nazi. It’s all I ever knew. My mother was never there. She died when I was too young to remember, but I can remember the meetings and how they talked about how our world would end soon. The wrong race is in power, they said. The apocalypse was near. I can remember how scared I was. Every night, I would go to sleep fearing the sun would never rise and that I would never wake up. \n\nI promised my father, one day that I would make this right. If I could I would go back in time and make sure Germany won. He laughed. I wanted to prove him wrong so badly. This is you for you father.\n \nEarlier memories flooded my brain. I was never allowed to leave the house. I learned everything about how whites were strong and everyone else was weak. Everyone else was a disease and like all diseases they had to be eradicated. \n\nHow long have I been in here? It seemed like years. I had almost forgotten what I came to do. The memories, the emotions, they were all here. I had to stay strong, “Heil Hitler.” That was my motto. I was going to see him after all. BAM!\n\nNothing, dark. What’s this?\n\nNext thing you know, I’m on the ground. Why is the ground moving? Man it’s wet. Why am I wet? Damn it, I’m not on the ground, I’m floating. Where am I? Ah, the Spree River. It’s all coming back to me. Did I make it? Am I here? Wow did this really work? \n\nI start swimming for the shore. I was so excited. Father, I did it. Nazi’s will rule the earth. \n\n(First time trying this, will write a part 2 later tonight. Go easy.)\n",
"Sitting at his desk, Gruppenfuhrer Geisel pored over the plans brought by his ambitious assistant. Though the folder was still sealed, Geisel could see a slight crease where the younger man had tried to get a glimpse of what was inside. Though a Gruppenfuhrer’s word was enough to have an upstart young officer taken out back and shot, the older man took pity. During the Great War he had done much the same, and it had earned him the medal on his chest and his position behind the desk. Perhaps this young man might save his life, much like he had done twenty years prior. Discipline is important yes, but so is the opportunity to learn and grow.\n \nSplitting the sealed wax with the Reich’s insignia on it, Geisel opened the folder and slid out the small stack of papers concealed within it. With a cursory glance around the room for prying eyes, he removed the blank front sheet to reveal what lie below it.\n \nIt had been a year since Codename: Der Seidman had visited the Fuhrer. He was a mysterious outsider that Geisel did get more than a glance of, and yet as of that visit the Fuhrer had been a changed man. Whispers among the enlisted echoed about the visitor’s accent- clearly American, but none could pinpoint from where. The man wore proletarian clothes - American jeans and a jacket with patches- prominently displaying the swastika as a banner on his back. He was completely bald on his head like the monks of the Orient, but was branded by ink of the savages in Africa. Most strikingly was the Iron Cross on the back of the man’s neck - Geisel glanced down at the polished one hanging from his chest, and thought of the men who died so he could earn it. Though the Fuhrer and other ranking members of the Reich trusted the man, Geisel did not. It was an insult enough that the man was American, but to desecrate such an honor by inking into his skin was an unbearable insult. Not all members of the Reich had such vivid memories of the previous war, or its terrible costs, but Geisel would never forget.\n \nTurning back to his stack of papers, Geisel stared at the full seal of the Reichschancellor. He knew what the papers contained; he helped design the battle strategy. What he did not know is why, and he dare not ask. He was a respected officer of the SS, but only that. He was not a confidant of a ranking member, he was the bureaucrat who turned policy into action. And that was his duty, no matter how much his personal opinion differed from that of his leaders. With a sigh and a draught of the lukewarm cup of tea on his desk, he pondered the connection between the operation he had worked so hard on for a year and who this mysterious visitor could be. His orders came but a week after the outsider had vanished from the Reichstag. As though from a source as credible as the SS-Waffen themselves, he had done his best to prepare. A month before his deadline, he had submitted his committee’s proposals to the Oberst-Gruppenfuhrer. This was their response.\n \nGlancing over the papers in front of him, he began to see the edits. Immediately he recognized Goebbel’s handwriting. Next to it was shaky print, but clearly the signature of the Fuhrer himself. Hitler himself had reviewed and approved these battle plans. This caused Geisel’s heart to sink into his stomach. He had hoped that the bureaucratic red tape would reject his plan - he had hoped to delay or postpone its goals inevitably.\n \n“What did Der Seidman say?” said Geisel to himself out loud. How could the greatest war machine in human history be so derailed by the actions of one eccentric, or worse, by one spy? How could the most brilliant military minds in the world be swayed so by a man who disgraces the honor of the Wehrmacht?\n \nThe plan was mostly intact. The Fuhrer did not go so far as to praise Geisel for the strategy, but Hitler’s approval was more praise than the Gruppenfuhrer felt he deserved. He knew he had been given an impossible task. He was expected to develop an invasion plan without reliable intelligence from any trustworthy source. However, as he reached the very last page, he noticed it was different. The paper was glossy, colorful, and illustrated. Taking up the third middle of the page was clearly a black-and-white image of the Reichstag. However, the image was not right. Panic arose in Geisel as the image washed over him. There was no eagle standard, holding the swastika of the National Socialist party high over the immortal streets of Berlin. This was an image of a shattered Berlin, and flying above the Reichstag was the flag of the Soviet Union. The caption below it, in English, read, “Soviet soldiers fly flag of Soviet Union over Reichstag.”\n \nSuddenly he knew that this sheet of paper was determining the course of the German people. This sheet of paper, this image, was what people knew. \n \nA knock at the door.\n \n“Ja?” he responded, choking.\n“Gruppenfuhrer,” said his assistant on the other side, “Der Fuhrer and the Oberst-Gruppenfuhrer are on their way.”\n \nA moment later the door opened suddenly and without warning. Gruppenfuhrer Geisel jumped to attention at his desk, saluted, and stood still. He felt the sweat on his brow betray him, and the nerves in his face display the fear he felt. “Heil Hitler!” He shouted with all the patriotism he could muster.\n \nAfter an eternity in silence, the Fuhrer spoke, “Gruppenfuhrer, is Operation Barbarossa ready?”\n \nSealing his own fate to the outcome, Geisel said as strongly as his fear would allow, “Yes, mein Fuhrer. We invade Russia on your command.”\n \n",
"They say that history is written by the victors.\n\nBut sometimes... sometimes, history is written by the losers.\n\n\"My Fuhrer,\" Max swallowed, still adjusting to the sight of his idol, alive and in full glory before him. \"I assure you it is all the truth! How else could this book describe secret strategies that only-\"\n\nGöring punched him in the stomach, but Hitler raised a hand to stop him. Göring thrust Max back into the arms of his Gestapo men, a flicker of sadistic disappointment on his face.\n\n\"You say this is a history book, from the future,\" Hitler said softly. Max's eyes welled tears at being addressed directly by the man. \"Excuse my poor english,\" Hitler continued, \"But it seems easy to me to - how does one say... ah, yes, *fabricate* such a document, with sufficient skill and *spy* intel.\" \n\nHitler's shrewd eyes peered into Max, baring his soul, as it seemed. Goebbels, who had also been summoned, said pointedly: \"The jews are quite good at fabrications, aren't they? \"\n\n\"Please!\" Max wailed at Hitler. \"I've studied you, I've dedicated my life to you! I would never work with jews! They're inferior, vile...\" Max trailed off, seeing only hostile glares in the room.\n\n\"We have no mercy for spies,\" Hitler said softly. \"I agree that it is a fabrication. A good one, but you've made some errors. You see...\" he smiled thinly at Max, who now had sweat running down his bald forehead. \"I would never end my life so disgracefully. But *they* would never understand that.\"\n\nMax wailed as he was taken away, and the men in the room exchanged concerned glances. Fabrication or not, the book had guessed some very worrisome things about their plans.\n\n\"Wir müssen alles ändern,\" Rommel said. \"If they found out this much...\"\n\nHitler inclined his head. \"I must think on this,\" he said, deciding to recline to his study. \"Leave me.\"\n\nAs the others filtered out, and he entered his study, he paced up and down. Suddenly, in a fit of rage, he threw all the documents from his desk. A flurry of white paper surrounded him.\n\n\"They're sneaky,\" he muttered under his breath. \"Undermining my confidence with texts like that! The rats...\"\n\nHe paced some more. It was as if his resolve had shattered. It had all seemed so... so real. So horrifyingly real. Hitler could almost imagine pulling the trigger now, besieged on all sides. The truth was... he might do that. He knew it, deep in his heart.\n\nHe wished he had his dogs around to calm him, but they were still in Berghof, with Eva.\n\n\"It's that blasted Morell,\" Hitler cursed, suddenly calling for his phycisian in a violent outburst. \"MORELL!\"\n\nHe paced some more, muttering: \"He hasn't been giving me enough amphetamines, to keep the spirit up. I should have known, the devil is half jewish, isn't he? I'll do it myself, like I have to do everything myself-\"\n\nAlready, the events of the damned book seemed a reality. He went to the drawer of his desk, retrieving a syringe and dose, for emergency purposes.\n\n\"One more dose,\" he muttered, shaking. \"To regain the confidence...\"\n\nWhen Morrell arrived, in a hurry and sweating, it was already too late.\n\nHitler had overdosed on his methamphetamines. On his high spirits, some of the party members would later say. That was the public message, anyway. Most of them, of course, blamed it on a plot by the allies. Especially the bald spy, who was executed a day later. But it was too late. Morale was shattered.\n\nIt was the jews, they'd tell each other.\n\nThe damn jews got to us in the end.\n\nBastards.\n\n---\n\nr/writeful_heir"
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[WP] While playing a multiplayer game, you, as a joke, pledge your soul to the satan. Nothing hapens, but then a new player connects. xXx_SaTaN_xXx
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"You find your ping decrease. You find your graphics improving, going way beyond what your measly laptop should be able to run. The sound even improves, causing you to look up from your screen. A brand new sparkling entertainment system blasts in your living room, able to play at any hour and not bother the neighbors. There's a cold sensation prickling the hair on your legs. You look to your right and there's a mini-fridge with frost emanating from it. You open it up and there's an endless supply of Mountain Dew and beer. \n\nThinking this must be a dream, you get up and go to your bathroom sink to splash water on your face. Looking in the mirror, you're shocked to see your eye color has changed to red."
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[WP] You have owned a pet for over twice their normal lifespan and are starting to wonder...
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"Vivian sat in her large studio apartment with her back to the front door. She sat on a squashy armchair, peering out the large window overlooking Central Park. It was early morning and the sun had not yet outstretched its arms to warm the atmosphere. Coffee steamed slightly on the end table next to the chair. Her legs were tucked under a thick, knitted blanket. \n\nShe turned her attention to the large black cat who was laying on her pillow. The only sound that could be heard was the soft snoring of her beloved pet. Vivian smiled warmly. Charlie, the cat had been with her for several years now. So well mannered, so faithful. She had never had a pet so loyal. **His coloring would start to change soon**, she thought. **It's about time he start to feel his mortality.** \n\nVivian sighed and put her book down. She was a stranger to mortality. For as long as she remembered, she has been immortal. At one time she had a strong and wise mentor, but that time has long passed. Jeremiah was his name. He shared with her secrets of the universe. A way to live beyond the regular humans. Although he no longer taught magic, not in the ways of old. He was fighting a losing war in Asia. One she cared not to think about. \n\nHer family background was a big blank. It didn't bother her anymore. She was raised in an orphanage until she was 16. It was against the rules to ask questions and rule breakers were not tolerated. Of course things were different in the 1820s. It was more than acceptable to hit small children in the name of discipline. She would still cringe every time she saw a ruler. \n\nShe lived a modest life, making most of her income passively through real estate and mutual funds. Separate companies all worked with a small percentage of her wealth as a precaution. No one person or corporation would be able to rock her stability. \n\nHer days were filled with reading books and writing stories to share online. When she got tired of her apartment and her cat, she took to the streets and wandered aimlessly. Trying new restaurants and supporting local businesses. She was careful not to visit the same place after so many years. Businessmen would question her youthful appearance. \n\nAll in all it was a grand life, the perfect life. Filled with everything she could ever need or want was right there in the city. As the sun peaked over the distance buildings she thought of all the wonderful people she had met in her life but quickly stopped as some memories made her emotional.\n\nShe took a sip of her coffee and thought back to her cat. **How long have we been together now?** she wondered. **I remember fining you in the alley behind Jerry's Dinner... What year was that?** She thought for a moment. \"Ah, I remember, that's when Start Wars: a New Hope came out. I went to Jerry's after I saw the movie. Betty and the girls couldn't wait to meet Daniel and his friends. Wait.. that can't be right. How long has that been?** It had been years since she had seen her old friends. That was for the best though. She didn't want to raise any questions or alarm anyone of her condition. \n\nAt that moment her cats ears perked up and his eyes slowly opened. They made eye contact and she did some quick math. Her face broke into a smile. \"You are 40 years old now, boy. You look better than I do. Got anything to say for yourself?\" \n\nHe bought a paw to his mouth and gave it a quick lick, \"I was wondering when you would figure it out. You know, most cats don't live past 20\" He continued to groom himself nervously. \"I guess you aren't as dim witted as I was beginning to think.\"\n\nVivian froze. Her eyes wide, she had no words.\n\n\"Don't stare at me V, I was getting bored waiting for you to figure it out.\" \n\nIt that moment the voice clicked in her head. \"Jeremiah, is that you?\" The cat only stared at her, eyes squinting is disapproval. \"What was your goal here?\" \n\n\"I was hexed pretty bad after I left you. After you rejected me. I made my way back to New York and followed you. I wanted to get revenge for how you made me feel. But after you took me in and fed me and cared for me. I knew I was never going to get anything more, so I accepted it. I thought this was as good as any other fate.\" \n\n\"I don't know what to say Jer. I told you I just needed some time\" \n\n\"Don't bother V, It's okay. I'm sure you want me to leave now, and I understand that.\" He stood up on all fours and stretched his back upward. He hopped off the bed and landed softly on the floor and started to trot to the front door. He paused slightly and said \"You know, I was pleasantly surprised that you never took another lover home\" \n\nVivian's face grew hot. \"Jer, please stay. I don't need anymore time to think. I love you\"\n\n\"I love you too\" \n\n \"Um.. Jer, if you aren't in Asia.. then who using your name to recruit immortals for that lost cause?\" \n\n\n---\n\nTiny Mouse Potato :D Hope you like it."
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[WP] The US army discovered that there actually is an afterlife. They are the only people on the planet who knows about this fact and they want to use this as an advantage in the next war.
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"“This is a lot to take in,” the general finally said. He stretched forward to lay the folder with the report on his desk and regarded the colonel sitting across from him with tired eyes.\n\n“We’re certain sir.”\n\n“How? How on Earth can you be *sure* of something like this Jamison?”\n\n“Sir, I know it sounds crazy, but we’ve brought three separate scientific teams in. Each one blind, no tips, no hints, just gave them access to the study and let them run with it.”\n\n“Over the last year?”\n\n“Yes sir,” Jamison nodded. “We provided whatever equipment or resources they required, kept our mouths shut, and waited. Each time they arrived at the same conclusion.”\n\n“DARPA is supposed to increase our warfighting capability, not destroy it.”\n\n“Sir?”\n\nThe general flicked his eyes at the folder. “What happens when word of this gets out?”\n\nJamison was silent for several moments, then shuffled through the stack of folders in his lap. “We have, ah, started some research into that. But it’s going to take some time.”\n\n“You started research into the ramifications of knowing there is an afterlife?”\n\n“Correct sir.”\n\nThe general let his chair come forward with a nearly silent metallic sound as the hinge moved. “So my question to you is how widespread has this information gotten?”\n\n“It’s classified—” the colonel began.\n\n“How many?”\n\n“Perhaps two hundred.”\n\n“Including the scientific teams?”\n\n“Twice that sir,” Jamison said uncomfortably.\n\n“Including all the administrative staff, the lab technicians, whoever you’ve passed these results to for further study?”\n\n“Yes sir.”\n\n“And what about those teams? The families of these personnel?”\n\n“Sir, security protocols are quite clear. None of them would leak anything about their work.”\n\n“People talk,” the general said. “Husbands to wives, wives to husbands. They gossip, they forget to use secure comms. So we’re really talking about a couple thousand at this point now, aren’t we?”\n\nJamison was looking uncomfortable. “Sir,” he finally said, “I’m not sure I follow what you’re trying to get at.”\n\n“I’m talking about how broad our potential exposure is on this.”\n\n“The information is secure,” Jamison insisted. “We monitor everyone. Conduct sweeps, regular interviews. Mail, email, comms, the works.”\n\n“Yet things still leak,” the general said with a frown.\n\n“Sir, we have followed every regulation and procedure to the letter,” Jamison said, his expression finally collapsing into stiff formality by pure military instinct. “There have been no breaches.”\n\n“I want every person who has access to this information moved. Immediately. Them and their families. Every guard, every member of their households, the cleaning staff. Everyone.”\n\nJamison blinked. “Sir, is it really necessary to put a hard lid on this?”\n\n“Is that a question?” the general asked, his voice dropping dangerously.\n\n“Sir, I will follow your orders. But I can best serve if I understand your intent.”\n\n“My intent is to contain this fiasco. Before it spreads even further,” the general said coldly. “Before we understand it enough to have a chance of proceeding without everything coming apart.”\n\n“Yes sir,” Jamison said uncomfortably.\n\n“I want planes taking off by morning. I’ll set something up. Probably out west, maybe Utah, perhaps Wyoming. Somewhere like that. I’ll let you know when it’s going. In forty-eight hours, I want everyone on the list you’re going to draw up and supervise at that base.”\n\nJamison blinked. “Sir, we can’t just move that many people so quickly. Some of them—”\n\n“Are civilians. So?”\n\n“There are laws, sir,” the colonel said. “We would be under great scrutiny.”\n\n“Total lockdown. Use cyber comms and jammers, whatever it takes, to lock down each person or group when they’re taken into custody. Block their phones, cut the landlines to their houses before they’re picked up, but round them all up and put them on that base. See to it personally Jamison. No leaks.”\n\nThe colonel stood reflexively when the general did, but he didn’t turn. Finally the general arched an eyebrow at him. “Well?”\n\n“Sir, I would request you place these orders in writing,” Jamison said very carefully in his best formal tones.\n\n“Of course,” the general said without batting an eye. He sat back down and turned to his computer. Surprisingly, he was a fast typist. Jamison remained on his feet while the man’s hands moved on the keyboard. Finally he finished, clicked something, and swiveled his chair to the printer on the table behind his desk. A single sheet of paper came out. After a brief glance at it, the general turned back around and held it out.\n\nJamison studied it, looking at the routing and CC recipients in the header block, then at the actual text of the order. Making sure it was logged and specific. Finally he nodded. “I’ll get right on it sir.”\n\n“Dismissed,” the general said, lifting a phone.\n\n* * * * *\n\n“—details are unclear at this time, but whatever the source it’s clear the facility has been completely destroyed,” a reporter was saying on the television screen. Behind her, a glow of fire was visible on the dark horizon. “We’re being kept away from the actual site, but we’ve got some aerial photography we managed to capture with a long lens before our pilot was ordered to depart the area.”\n\nThe screen changed to show a fire raging in the middle of a forest clearing. Remains of buildings were visible through the flames, and some vehicles as well. The reporter’s voice over continued as the telephoto shot played on. “Some sources are blaming this on terrorism, others are saying a meteorite hit, and still more say it must have been an accident involving the base’s munitions dump, but—”\n\nHer voice cut off as the word “mute” appeared in the lower corner of the screen. There was a click as the tv’s remote was set down on a table.\n\n“And that was everyone?” a woman asked.\n\n“Yes,” the general said. “I checked the manifests personally. The entire project team, and all their families. Everyone who had access to their findings, whether they actually knew anything or not.”\n\n“This is a pretty messy way to handle it, don’t you think?” she asked, flicking her eyes at the screen on the wall before returning them to the general.\n\n“It’s better this way,” he said with a shrug. “If they just disappeared, the questions would never stop. Now there’s closure. We can spin this, give the conspiracy theorists and blogger crowd various things to amuse themselves debating without ever knowing they’re nowhere near the truth.”\n\n“Over a thousand people. Including enough children to fill a couple classrooms.”\n\n“We can’t possibly let this information get out.”\n\n“Oh I agree,” she said before lifting her glass for a sip. “Soldiers would become reckless, or might find enough religion to refuse to serve.”\n\n“Enemy combatants would be more willing to engage in suicide attacks, knowing there was something out there for them,” the general said with a nod. “And that’s just for starters on the battlefield side of things.”\n\n“Civilian reactions would be impossible to predict, or contain.”\n\n“Precisely,” he said, lifting his own glass and throwing back its contents. He flexed his mouth for a moment as the whiskey went down his throat, then nodded again. “Better this way. You want another?”\n\n“Yes, thank you,” she said, draining her own glass as he stood. He took both and went to the bar on the side table of the office.\n\n“I’ll keep an eye on the project,” he said as he unstoppered a bottle of scotch. “Make sure no one else restarts the research. There’s only so many times we can pull something like this without it spinning out of control. But—”\n\nHe stopped talking as his body locked up under the taser she jammed into the back of his neck. The bottle crashed to the carpet, thudding heavily and spilling across his shoes. He hit the floor a second later, as his nervous system flailed about and lost the ability to keep him standing. She followed him with the taser, keeping the prongs in contact with him while she knelt next to him. One handed, she removed a needle from inside her blouse and pulled the cap off with her teeth. The contents of the syringe went into his forearm as she depressed the plunger.\n\nOnly then did she release the taser. He stopped moving as she let up on the electrical current. A moment later he stopped breathing. Setting the taser and needle aside, she picked the bottle up and broke it against the table leg. The sharp edge of one of the bigger pieces she scraped across his skin, right over the needle mark. Quickly she tucked the taser and syringe away, making sure to cap the needle. Then she ran to the desk phone and lifted the receiver while punching one of the direct dial buttons.\n\n“We need a medical team in the general’s office,” she said, making her voice sound desperate. “He’s collapsed. I think it’s a heart attack. Hurry.”\n\nSetting the phone down, she looked at the general. He was laying sprawled right where she’d put him. His arm was bleeding, but not very much. Without the heart powering his blood through his veins, it could only dribble out slowly.\n\n“No leaks general,” she said as she heard footsteps pounding in the hallway.\n\n* * * * *\n\nI collect all my flash fic [here](https://www.reddit.com/r/DavesWorld/). If you liked this, the others might be interesting too. Enjoy!",
"\"..Mr President..\" the aide began, knowing that this *particular* Commander in Chief really did *believe* he knew everything there was to know about everything \"um...I really think you should consider this information from project hindsight more fully before you order this attack.\" \n\" We have better equipment, better trained soldiers.. we've spent all this money over the years, and now I'm not supposed to use it, because old, washed up generals tell me I shouldn't? What are they afraid of? And where does this project hindsight data come from anyway? whose stupid ideas are these?\" \nThe aide shifted nervously as he debated internally to tell his boss the secrets behind project hindsight, thinking about what it did to President Ford when they told him about it..poor dude could hardly walk after getting blasted by Coach Yost for the '34 Michigan team...but he decided that the risk was worth it if it could possibly begin to bring some common sense to this situation, and man. \n\"Sir, project hindsight was developed in the late 50's as an outgrowth of testing for possible long term spaceflight..they were doing sensory deprivation testing and left some poor GI in the tank for too long, and sorta baked the guy way, way past the point of well done, and when they got him out, he swore he could talk to dead people, and when he wouldn't back down his claims they decided to run some tests.\" \n\" the results were?\" the President asked disbelievingly, the aide continued: \n\"turns out he really could, and they verified it by asking him giving questions that only certain people could know the answer to..and they began to research how they could use this more effectively\" and I won't mention that Thomas Jefferson told us where the Ark of the Covenant really is he thought to himself.. \" And in this case, these stupid ideas come from some of the greatest generals of all time.\" \n\"What to they know that I don't?\" The president stated. The aide bit back they reply that was on the edge of his tongue.. \n\"sir, I don't have time to go into details, but suffice to say that both George Marshall and MacArthur both agree on something for *literally* the first time in a hundred years, Hell, even Georgie Patton and Field Marshall Montgomery think it's a bad idea..\" \n\"and who else have your mad scientists talked to? Napoleon? Hitler?\" the president interrupted acidly.. \n\"actually yes, but they both still believe that it wasn't their fault, and Genghis Khan just said 'hell yeah, lets do it..', but with the exception of those three everyone else said we shouldn't.. some even called it a classic blunder..\" \n\" do I have to wait for it?\" the president snapped..\"you obviously believe it too, so get on with it..\" \n\"sir they all say you should never get involved in a land war in Asia\".. \n\"INCONCEIVABLE!\" the president exclaimed...and so began the downward spiral of President Vizzini..\n\n"
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[WP] It's been 5 years since the Curiosity Rover landed. Today, it uncovers it's biggest discovery. A mass grave.
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"The Curiosity Rover continued its slow drive across the rocky, red surface of Mars. The Rover was approaching the edge of a cliff, possibly a mountain. The control back at NASA wouldn't know until they reached it. \"Approaching cliff edge now,\" said the controller. After a few seconds, he reached it. But, instead of finding a plateau of rock and sand, he found something horrible. \"What the...\" The controller used the camera's zoom function to look closer. Hundreds of..t. headstones?! \"Jesus...\" said the controller, tapping into his personal headset, \"NASA control, I've just received visual of... something on Mars. Looks like headstones. Graves.\" \"What?!\" said the man on the other end of the signal. \"Oh, shit.\" the man continued after a few seconds, \"You're right.\" ",
"Thirteen minutes, forty-eight seconds. That's how long it takes for a signal to travel the black of space and reach Earth from Mars. Coincidentally that is all the time that is need to change the world. \n\nBack in 2012 Curiosity landed on Mars. NASA had many hopes for the rover, and it far exceed them all. More and more was learned for us, and showed us the barren red planet. One year ago the rover's next target was picked, a large flat area with an odd out cropping of rocks. May had speculated why the rocks looked to be so evenly spaced, some suggested that it could have been debris of some kind. Other had joked the face of Mars had put them there.\n\nSo the day came. Following a path that had been set for it Curiosity came to a stop and flipped up its camera and held. The images that came back were, at first confusing. The scientists gathered around the view screen in the command center. One hundred reddish gray stones sat evenly spaced. Some of the stones had started to tilt to one side or the other but the intent was clear. As the camera pans the scientists also note the ground in front of the stones was slightly mounded.\n\nTo get a better look at the stones they tell the rover to move up. Thirteen minutes, forty-eight seconds they get their wish. Zooming in the stones have been nearly rubbed smooth over time. But clearly what is on them brings a hush to the room. On the screen before them they can see ancient hieroglyphics craved deep into the stone.\n\nFor what seemed an eternity passes and the only sound is that of the hum of computers then two words are spoke by the Flight Director.\n\n\"Lock the Doors.\"\n "
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[WP] I once defended a small African village from the local militia with nothing but a wooden spoon.
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"\"Cool story, bro, but I think that I can one-up that. You see, one time, I went on vacation. I was in the wonderful little state of South Dakota, and I was back-packing through the hyperbolic outback. Alas, I came across a back-woods cult! They worshiped dark, evil, sadistic gods, and they had this array of beautiful young women chained up, and if their ravings were correct, all of them would be killed by nightfall. And so, I had to formulate a plan to rescue them in the few day-lit hours left. I took my little knife, and crept into the camp, where the cultists were, and began my carefully calculated assault, taking down a single cultist, and donning his robes. Later on, it finally came time for the ceremony, when the women were going to be killed, and I attacked. Using a fistful of dirt, my little knife, and a long, metal staff with a wonky handle, I beat and battered the remaining cultists, until they fled, leaving me to unchain and free the women. Now, is that a story, or is that a story?\"",
"It all started in the jungles of Tanzania. I was collecting more wood for my camp fire. I could hear the wild Elephants gathered at the river drinking water. All was calm when all if the sudden gunshots roared through the sky. It was the local militia poaching the wild beasts for their tusks as trophies. The men were only able to fire a few rounds, missing before fleeing back to their jeep. When the area was clear I investigated the scene only to find out that there was a small village not to far from the river. I had only been here for a few days since my plane crashed a few miles away. I approached the village and was greeted by a little girl. She didn't speak any english but was trying to speak to me. She led me to the village where where about 30 people lived. As the girl led me through, all I got was stares of confusion from the men and women. She led me to what I imagined was her father who barely spoke enough english to tell me that there was another man just like me who came to this village yesterday. \"Another man just like me?\" I asked. \"Yes, fair skin, blue eyes\" he said with his harsh accent. I couldn't believe it. Another person survived the plane crash. I thought I was the only one who made it out alive. They told me the man was out collecting more food and would be back tonight. They took me in as one of their own, gave me a place to shower, an area to sleep. They even fed me their variation of chicken soup. They gave a small bowl with a wooden spoon and told me to keep it in case I get hungry later on. Something about this spoon felt special. I wasn't sure if it was the amazing craftsmanship or the strange patterns carved into it. Regardless; I ate, dried it off and kept it in my pocket. I was finally able to get a few hours of comfortable sleep in what felt like a lifetime. I was woken up by the girls father and informed that the hunting group came back. Somehow the group of 7 were able to kill and carry back the biggest lion I had ever seen in my life. We both saw eachother and couldn't believe our eyes. It was the pilot of the plane! We met up and had many questions for eachother. As night fell the village cooks were preparing the lion close to a campfire. As we all sat around the fire, me and the pilot spoke more about what happened with our plane. The pilot told me it was a total engine failure that no one could of seen coming. He told me the villagers pulled him out of the plane but not before he sent out a distress signal back home. He wasn't sure how long it would take them to find us but a few days was his guess. Never was mine. I felt a sudden urge to ask him if he was given the same spoon I received eariler that day. After showing him the spoon in my pocket, he told me he was given just a regular spoon. ''Maybe your special to them'' he jokingly said. The lion was finally ready and portions were being sent around the villagers. We were the guests and were kindly given the first portions. I never had lion before and couldn't exactly describe the taste. Somewhere between the dryness of chicken but the flavor bacon. We all ate and socialized around the fire. I asked about the militia that I saw eariler that day. They told me how they were a independent, self funded group of about 10 men. By self funded, I mean stealing the valuables of neighboring villages and selling them in the inner city. Killing whoever stood on their way. They explained how they gave the village a few days to come up with 100,000 Tanzanian shillings or they would kidnap some villagers. The problem was, these people don't go to the city and live off the land. I asked them when the deadline was and was chilled by the answer. \"Tonight\" the father said. I looked at the captain and we both had the same thought running through our minds. \"We need to leave\" I could read through his eyes. I asked if they had a plan for when they come. The father stood up and led me to a tent near one corner of the village and opened it. Inside were a few bows, arrows and spears. But not enough for the whole village to fight. This was all they had. Before I could even get a word out; I heard the same familiar gunshots I heard this morning. The militia was somewhere in the woods but was approaching fast. We rushed back to the campground with the weapons and supplied to who we could. We made a plan to split the village up into groups and hide in tents in an attempt to ambush the group. Somehow I was stuck by myself in one if the tents. Great. All of the sudden I felt that same weird feeling in my pocket again. It was the spoon. I grabbed it out of my pocket to find the patterns on the spoon were glowing a bright blood red. I freaked out and dropped It on the ground. After calming down, I picked it back up and examined it. After further inspection; I found that twisting the spoon in a specific direction, revealed a sharp glowing blade. I was trying to figure out how I ate with this and didn't notice but I had the militia to think about. When they entered the village, they saw the campfire and were one step ahead. They began letting out shots into the air yelling something. I then felt something I had never felt before... The urge to kill. I looked at the spoon/blade in my hand and knew what needed to be done. It started with one solider that I noticed walking by my tent. In one quick motion I covered his mouth from behind and punctured his heart with my weapon. He died instantly as I quickly dragged him into my tent. I had to figure out how I was going to kill the remaining guards. I ran out of my tent and ducked behind another one for a clearer look. 2 more guards walking in a line towards the forrest trying to surround the perimeter. As quietly as I could, i snuck up behind the closest one and ended his life. The one in front of him turned around and yelled before he took a knife to the esophagus. The other soldiers heard the noise and ran towards my position, following me into the jungle. Without thinking, I ran up one of the trees with the speed and grace of s cheetah. It was too dark for the soldiers to see where I went exactly but spread out to cover more ground. So here I was, in a tree with nothing but my spoon knife and my creativity. My next move was to take out the guard that was urinating alone. Jumping from the tried I landed in him and quickly killed him. The fall was heard by another solider and started slowly inspecting the area. Just as he found the body, I attacked him, fighting for my life, I sweeped his legs and put a quick end to him. But the others were aware of what happened. I had to improvise and ran into some bushes nearby, but it won't hide me long. As the remaining 5 soldiers grew closer, I felt something. A rumble in the earth. Followed by a sound even more horrifying then gun shots. It was the roar of 10 grown elephants and they were coming our way. I felt a huge surge of adrenalin and ran towards the soldiers from the side. Making a pass before the elephants got to us I managed to kill 2 soldiers and slip away. Almost immediately after my pass; the elephants made it to the soldiers and threw them about 20 feet away. I was sure they would have killed them right than and there. But to my surprise one solider picked up his Ak-47 and fired shots towards the beasts, wounding one and scaring the rest into the distance. In a fit of rage, I ran up to the solider still on the ground and kicked his gun away. I began unloading a furry of fists down onto him and finished him off with a clean cut to the neck. I looked over to see a solider moaning in pain on the ground. I walked over to the man who was hanging on to life as it was. I used my spoon/blade to out him out of his misery. Not to far from him was the last solider with a branch through his leg. ''PLEASE!'' He cried out, \"let me live'' I looked directly at his soul through his eyes and said \"Life is part of a cycle. Yours is over.\" The next morning helicopters arrived to pick us up after finding the plane not too far from the village. \"You two must have been though a lot back there\" the chopper pilot said to us. We were able to laugh it off but I knew he was right. I had seen and done things not every man could do. As we flew to our plane ride home I felt something weird come from my pocket, it was the spoon. Still glowing in my hand; I took one final look at it, said my goodbye and threw it out the helecoptor. No one saw me do it and to this day I'm the only one who knew of its strange abilities."
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[WP] A revolution has been on the cusp of realization for years. The only problem is there's always a scheduling conflict.
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"\"Alright,\" said Colonel Algiers, \"*this* time, there will be no stopping us!\" he swept his telescoping pointer at the map with a satisfying *thwap*. \"We'll have our ambush set here,\" *thwap*, \"with choke points here, here, and here,\" *thwapthwapthwap*, \"and this will be our rally point,\" *scraaaapppethwap*. He snapped the pointer closed. His hands fell into their familiar position in the small of his back. \"We strike at dawn, when the Regent's motorcade is to pass through the center of town,\" he finished. This last comment was met with an assortment of uncomfortable shifting and not-so-subtle throat clearing.\n\n\"Sir,\" said Leftenant Rabat.\n\n\"Yes, what it is?\"\n\n\"It's just...\"\n\n\"Out with it, Leftenant!\"\n\n\"Sir, the motorcade is to *arrive* at dawn, but it won't be to the town's center until more like noon. It's... it's the morning rush hour, sir,\" he clarified. Colonel Algiers telescoped his pointer out. Then he closed it again.\n\n\"Well, then,\" he waved the pointer around like a wand, \"we shall strike at noon!\" Another chorus of squeaking chairs and ruffling upholstery.\n\n\"Sir,\" said Captain Tunis, \"the ambush team isn't due in until nearly 3 PM tomorrow.\" Colonel Algiers snapped his pointer shut.\n\n\"And *when* was I going to be notified?!\" shouted the Colonel, \"I was planning on a *dawn* ambush, and then a *noon* ambush, but I won't have an ambush force until... until *tea time?!*\" A small fleck of saliva formed in the corner of the Colonel's mouth. His face was flushed and his eyes were on fire. Captain Tunis shifted squeakily.\n\n\"Well, yes, sir, but you seemed to have your heart set on the morning ambush, and we thought--\"\n\n\"You thought I would be carrying out the ambush *myself?!*\" screeched the Colonel. His tie popped out of his uniform jacket and a stray hair sneaked below his beret. He straightened himself up and took a deep breath. \n\n\"We could help, sir,\" muttered the First Sergeant. The Colonel pretended not to hear.\n\n\"I feel as though I have not been entirely clear, gentlemen. We are staging a *coup d'etat*, not a pick up soccer game--\"\n\n\"Oh, sir, the jerseys have not come in yet, so we'll have to postpone the holiday kick-about--\" interrupted the First Sergeant. The Colonel shot him a venomous glare, and then continued.\n\n\"Which *means*,\" he straightened his tie, \"that our *assets*\", snapped the pointer closed, \"must be *meticulously organized*,\" pushed the stray hair up into his beret, \"and positioned *precisely as scheduled*!\" He slammed his fist on the table as a sweaty punctuation.\n\n\"Now,\" he continued, \"this will be our fourth attempt--oh *what is is*?\" shouted the Colonel, prompted by more uncomfortable shifting.\n\n\"Sir, it's...\" started Leftenant Tripoli, who couldn't bring himself to finish.\n\n\"It's actually our *eighth* attempt, sir,\" added Leftenant Rabat. The Colonel hurled his pointer into the wall, ripped off his beret, and tossed it to the ground, exposing a jet black mess of greasy hair. He stomped on the beret fourteen or fifteen times. When he had finished stomping, he swept his hair toward the back of his head and leaned over the conference room table.\n\n\"You...\" started Leftenant Tripoli, \"Sir, you were on leave, it just seemed... you... had wanted...\" he made an inscrutable up-down movement with his hands.\n\n\"So my ambush force is--\"\n\n\"Yes, sir, in jail until 3 PM tomorrow,\" finished the First Sergeant, \"oh, and the Logistics Officer, too, which reminds me to tell you that the soccer jerseys won't be in on time for the holiday kick-about, so we'll have to reschedule *that*.\""
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[WP] "When were you going to tell me this?"
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"“You’re leaving,” she mumbles, and instantly I notice the crumpled acceptance letter in her shaky hands. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. No, I wanted to surprise her, I thought she'd be proud.\n\t\n“Lily—” I start, but her glare makes me rethink my words. “Only for a bit,” I say, reaching out to her.\n\t\nShe smacks my hand away.\n\t\n“When were you gonna tell me this?” she asks, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I’m carrying your *child.* This isn’t just about *you,* anymore!”\n\t\nI shake my head because this is all too much, and honestly, maybe she’s right. Just because I got accepted to the best school in the country on a full scholarship doesn’t mean I can just leave them, does it? Sure, I’ll make us a better life ten years down the line—but I might miss my baby’s birth. Hell, I might even miss their *childhood.*\n\t\nLooking into Lily’s hate-filled eyes makes my stomach sink into my shoes. I love her, and I love the life we’ve created. We’re poor, but we’ve scraped by, and when I got accepted I figured she’d be ecstatic because it’s an *out.* Not yet, but eventually, it’s a key to *freedom.*\n\t\n“I can’t believe you,” she growls through gritted teeth. “Fine, go. Get your fancy degree and leave us back here in the dust.”\n\nBefore I can say another word she spins around and stomps out the door, leaving me alone. I thought I’d finally finished the puzzle that is my life. but it turns out I just lost the most important piece.\n***\nGreat prompt! :D \n\nIf you like this story, check out my sub! r/longhandwriter",
"\"When were you going to tell me this?\" He was panting, blood soaked through his snug fitting blue t-shirt from the cut just below his pectoral muscle. \n\nShe had him pinned, her body pressed against his, the long curved knife held between shaky hands. She shook her head, unable to answer him. \n\n\"When Ella?\" His voice rose to almost shouting, straining against the hold she had on him. The knife pressed into this chest, poking a hole into his shirt and drawing a few drops of blood. \n\nShe shook her head once more. \"I didn't want it to come to this.\" \n\nDespite her orders. Despite everything that had transpired between them the last year, it had still come to this. He relaxed slightly, allowing his eyes to drift to the ceiling of their apartment. \n\nHe didn't think it would come to this either. But he should have known. Every part of their relationship was a lie. Something she said to get close to him. Something she did so they would end here - with him on the floor powerless. She knew, or had been told, that he could never hurt her. So he allowed her to point the knife at his heart. \n\n\"Why now?\" He wondered out loud. \n\n\"My client is through with waiting.\" She shrugged delicately. \"Getting your money dead is apparently easier than getting it when you're alive.\" \n\nHe thought about promising to make it better. To repay his debts. But that wasn't what this was about. Despite his love for gambling, it was not that which had gotten him into this situation. \n\n\"Did Jenny send you?\" He questioned slowly, voice devoid of emotion, and a quick concise nod was all he received in admission. He had been a terrible person, he knew. And the mother of his child had every right to want him dead. \n\n__________________________________________\nLike this? Read more of my writing [here] (https://www.reddit.com/r/FireWitchChronicles)!"
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[Wp]From the time our main character wakes and till he/she sleeps, tell me a day of going to work with as many stereo types as possible.
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"Moosejaw, Saskatchewan – Benjamin Ladner\n\n4:30 AM: I wake up at the sound of Michael Bublé blaring from my alarm clock. I quickly throw on my red plaid jacket, a worn-out pair of blue jeans, some rag-tag hiking boots, and a Hudson Bay Company tuque. \n\n4:15 AM: I stand outside in the darkness and the bitter-cold hosing down the neighbourhood rink. I promptly return my house, make a prayer to my elaborate shrine of Wayne Gretzky, and return to sleep.\n\n7:00 AM: Wake up, once again. Eat some pancake with my maple syrup. I then proceed to take a shower in cold water and hop on my moose name Don Cherry. \n\n7:15 AM: Atop Don Cherry I trek through a veritable blizzard to arrive, covered in snow, at my local Tim Horton’s. There, I say hello to Stevie, Josh, Tammy, Tania, Owen, James, the six Stuart brothers, Harold, Brian, Maddy, Jimmy, Pamela, and Donny, as well as bonjour to François, Guillaume, Mathilde, et Théo. I then apologize to all of them for having taken up some of their time. Finally, I arrive at the counter where Magdalena already had my daily coffee hot and ready to go.\n\n7:20 AM: I say goodbye to Stevie, Josh, Tammy, Tania, Owen, James, the six Stuart brothers, Harold, Brian, Maddy, Jimmy, Pamela, and Donny and au revoir to François, Guillaume, Mathilde, et Théo. Once again, I state how sorry I am to of taken their time. \n\n7:35 AM: I arrive home aboard Don Cherry, proudly put on my Mounty uniform whilst listening to ‘O Canada’ performed by Celine Dion.\n\n8:00 AM: I perform my regular duties as a Mounty which include fighting polar bears, helping old ladies cross the street, shoveling snow off the driveways of the elderly, breaking up hockey fights, and escorting valuable shipments of maple syrup.\n\n12:00 PM: An American tourist elbow-drops me while I club my daily seal to eat for lunch. I apologize with a “sorry, eh”. I also consume a meter of Kraft Dinner on the side. While eating, I watched the sunrise and sunset.\n\n1:00 PM: I happily resume my regular duties as a Mounty. \n\n5:00 PM: Work ends, and I hop aboard Don Cherry to brave the snowstorm once again.\n\n6:00 PM: Doc. Abadi admits me for my daily health checkup… for free. He, as always, informs me that I have an abnormal development in heart. It’s too big. Then he promptly apologizes for scaring me. I too apologize, not sure why, but it felt right. We hug.\n\n7:00 PM: I cut down timber to burn in my wood stove. While falling trees, I notice that a beaver fell into my trap. The fur of this one was a particularly \nbeautiful colour. It appears that I will have a new coat for spring! \n\n7:20 PM: Poutine is on the menu for dinner. I eat a metric ton.\n\n7:30 PM: The Stanley Cup playoffs are on the tele. Don Cherry and I watch Don Cherry on Hockey Night in Canada. During commercials we watch the Rick Mercer Report.\n\n8:00 PM: I pray to my shrine of Wayne Gretzky and fall asleep next to my husband.\n"
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[WP] The four most beautiful people in the world fight to the death for your heart.
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"I have never been popular in any way, at least not to this extent. Four beautiful women were fighting over me. I knew them all, Anne, Marion, Tessa, and Tina and in my opinion there were no one more beautiful than them.\n\nIt all started a few days ago where each of them had approached me on different occasions. They had each asked me out the following weekend. I of course had said yes and had managed to schedule a date with each of them. One on Friday, two on Saturday, and one on Sunday. \n\nThe first date went well. Marion and I went to have dinner and then took a stroll in the local park. That was when we ran into the others and it soon turned into a heated argument between the five of us, or should I say the four of them. At first they were angry with me, but soon they had forgotten all about my presence as they continued arguing about winning my heart. \n\nMaybe after half an hour, they started getting physical and it developed into a fight. I could do nothing but observe as I was completely entranced by the whole ordeal. \n\nIt all took a turn to the worse when Tessa had taken a stick from the ground and used it to hit Marion. This had angered Tina who suddenly stood there with a knife in the hand. She used it to stab Tessa, who had just managed to knock Marion unconscious. Anne then took the opportunity to jump on Tina from the back and strangled her death, then she took the knife to make sure Marion and Tessa were dead.\n\nShe dropped the knife and went to kiss me. I dared not reject her after all she had done. We started walking back to her place were we went straight to the bed. Both exhausted from what had happened all we did was to fall asleep in each other's arms, or to be precise she fell asleep. I was still too frightened from the experience, but as I lay there in the full comfort of her embrace I finally fell asleep. \n\nI woke up due to a noise. I could hear a voice saying: \"I want his heart.\" \n\nI opened my eyes and could see Anne in the dim light holding a large dagger like object in her hands. Before I could react I felt the stabbing pain as the dagger penetrated my torso area. Before I completely lost consciousness I could feel a hand digging inside my body, searching for my heart. \n\nEdit: few grammar error I had my sister point out for me"
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[WP] Humanity has had to adapt to the changing of the world due to the polar ice caps melting. But the most difficult thing to deal with by far is Santa Claus being released from his cold prison.
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"Do you want to know why the government hasn't taken widespread action against climate change?\n\nThey can't stand the idea of letting the world know demons are real.\n\nI work at the North Pole. My name is unimportant for the moment, but it will be irrelevant, considering the way things are going. I'm one of 23 personnel currently stationed at SK-00, a prison site. We only have one prisoner, and it's ol' Saint Nick-- or at least, he was old Saint Nick. Now he's something far different and worse.\n\nI'll explain in a way that's not full of jargon and red tape like it was for me when I started up here. Saint Nicholas, Sinterklaas, whatever you want to call him, is an entity we still can't exactly explain. At least half of him is some abstract deity that controls joy on earth during the winter, and the other half just seems to be a regular man. Santa Claus used to be a nexus of what has been called \"Mirthions\", an alternative form of energy that was flowed and regulated by Sinterklaas.\n\nWhen we found him, however, we expected some enormous workshop or... anything that wasn't a massive ice cube carved with nordic runes. Archaeologists dated it for at least 1,000 years old, almost coinciding with Erik the Red's exploration of Greenland and Iceland. Seems Erik took a detour.\n\nIt seemed Santa had the power to travel out of his prison for a while, still spreading presents and joy and love. It wasn't until 50 years ago that experiments created anchors in reality around his prison, giving Saint Nick a bubble. A bubble he couldn't hope to escape from. I don't know how they made the anchors, all I know is that it takes alot of energy, luck, and faith.\n\nYes, faith.\n\nWords and emotions have power, after all.\n\nSince then, Saint Nick has been degrading. Without a way to spread Mirthions, the world grows more and more gray. Less energy gets made to sustain his joviality. I watched him weep sometimes on the monitors. Over 20 years he became his antithesis. The one with that decent horror movie. Except much worse.\n\nSo much worse. Krampus isn't just some goat demon. It's an idea of darkness and malice and hate and joylessness. Without the energy flowing through him, Saint Nick has become the demonic equivalent of a black hole.\n\nAnd then came global warming.\n\nI've seen Krampus escape before we're able to activate the anchors. I've seen him tear open reinforced steel doors, bite through transformers, and brush off an M134's spray like it was a misty rain. The only time I actually saw him outside of the monitors, I shit my pants and ran, hoping he was too distracted eating a coworker. Call me a coward, or heartless, but I can't be brave in the face of that. What can I do that a minigun couldn't?\n\nBelieve?\n\nMaybe that's it. But I can't believe anymore. I've lost faith.\n\nDay by day, the warming earth makes him stronger. The time he takes to tear through us gets shorter and shorter. More of us lose faith, including the recruits. Soon the anchors will fade completely, and the world will be free for Saint Nick to eat everyone's joy.\n\nThe alarms have been going off for minutes now, and I think he smells me. I hear his footsteps above me, like a train slamming on corrugated metal. All I have is my .357 magnum, six silver bullets, and a cyanide pill in between my molars. The latter would be preferable to being eaten.\n\nIf you're reading this, stock up on faith and silver. And fruit. If you have a good child, tell them to give the fruit to him. It's gotten him back in the cage before. But when it doesn't, well...\n\nI try not to think of the screams.\n\nLet this be a warning about climate change and demons. Fix the earth. It's a far bigger issue than you think.\n\nGod be with you.\n\n---\n\nHey. If you liked this and want more of my work, check our r/Boenerhorse."
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[WP] In a world where babies are actually brought by The Stork, you've started a controversial business selling scarecrows
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"I sigh to myself and walk towards my store. I can already see that a crowd of protesters has gathered in front of my shop. The crowd seems like they are on edge, and for good reason. The news was saying that the governor was going to be signing an anti-bird control law today.\n\nAfter an uncomfortable walk I finally made it to the front door and let myself in, turning the closed sign to open as I did. \n\nI walked inside my store past the rows of scarecrows, noise makers and other bird control devices that made up my stock. Although many of the more aggressive measures had been made illegal in the past everything that I had was still fairly effective. Just as I made it to my counter and sat down the front door opened and a middle aged woman walked into my shop. I watched her as she approached me, putting on my best customer service smile I said \"Good morning Ma'am, how can I help you today?\"\n\n\"Umm, yes. I'm here because I need, well I need some bird control and I was told by some friends that you can help me?\" the woman replied nervously.\n\n\"Well you were told right, I have all the latest bird control methods here, at least for now. What kind of bird control were you interested in?\"\n\"Well I'm really not sure what kinds there are, could you walk me through them?\"\n\n\"Of course.\" I replied \"There is the traditional scarecrow here, this was the gold standard for years and still quite effective for day time storks, but I really recommend you pair it with the motion controlled strobe lights and noise makers in case you have storks at night. Now that set up is a bit more expensive, but far more reliable, and definitely cheaper than an unexpected bundle of joy being left on your doorstep. Now not to rush you into making a decisions, but with all the talk recently you may need to make a decision quickly. In fact, speak of the devil.\" The front door opened and a man wearing a cheap suit that screamed lawyer walked into my store escorted by two police officers.\n\nThe man made a beeline straight towards me and brandishing a sheaf of papers. \"Are you the owner of this store?\" he asked with barely contained glee.\n\n\"I am, and you are?\"\n\"My name is Henry Wade, and I am here representing the State of Texas in order to present you with this immediate cease and desist, your store is in violation of state law and is to be shut down immediately.\" the suit states handing me the papers.\n\n\"What? How can you do that?\" Shouts the woman. \"It's my yard and the government shouldn't be trying to tell me what to do with it.\"\n\nThe lawyer looked at the woman and responded. \"Perhaps if you had gotten married instead of playing around with bird seed you wouldn't need the types of things this man sells.\" \n\nThe woman narrowed her eyes and looked at the man and said acidly \"I'll have you know that my husband and I don't want a third child so we're looking into preventing that responsibly. Not that it should be any of your or anyone else's business and certainly not the governors.\" \n\n\"Ma'am people get however many children as the birds decide they get, maybe instead of complaining about it you should do something useful.\"\n\n\"You better believe that I will. I'm going to sue you, the government and anyone else who is going to try to tell me what to do with my property.\" she said. \"Just you watch, I'll get this law changed or my name isn't Norma McCorvey.\"\n"
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[WP] Feral child/man finds out about civilization
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"\"Shut up!\" Claire shouted at the twelve-year-old. \"You were raised by wolves, in the jungle, and you've *never* heard of *the Jungle Book*?\"\n\nThe twelve-year-old shook his head, in the manner that he had witnessed Claire shake her head on many different occasions.\n\n\"That is redonkuliscious! You simply have to come back to camp with me, there's gonna be this party tonight and I will be legendary if I show up with a feral child -\"\n\nDirectly at her (not-surprisingly) open mouth, a Sudanese Flying Tongue Salamander jumped. The twelve-year-old threw one of his boomerangs in time to slice it in half. He picked up the half that would have no venom - the head and arms - and put it into his loincloth for later.\n\n\"H-huh,\" Claire said, as soon as she recovered. \"That was weird... But thanks!\" The twelve-year-old responded with a blank stare, but due to her pathological need to make sure everything goes least awkward, she pretended that he said something witty in reply and laughed accordingly, perfectly on cue.\n\nThe twelve-year-old sized Claire up. She was twice his age. Whatever mother made and looks after this baby, he thought to himself, she must be close by and huge so I should get away. He grabbed Clair's hat and backpack, before she even had time to say something, then leaped behind a tree and was gone."
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[WP] After you die, you see your life's stats on a board in the afterlife. You have a K/D ratio of 17:1, but you don't remember ever killing anyone.
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"I looked back up at the board. It couldn't be true! I turned to the man next to me, seeking an explanation where there was none to be found. \"Hey man, could you take a look at this?\" I pointed him towards my score and he let out a concerned chuckle. \"Damn, dude! Were you some kind of serial killer or something?\" I turned away and hung my head. He began to point it out to everyone else in the room and they all began to let out gasps and nervous laughter.\n\nSuddenly, we heard the familiar *ping* as another score showed up on the board and another person appeared in the doorway. I looked up anxiously to see if this would be the one to dethrone me from the top of the kill category for today. My mouth fell open in shock and a clamor arose from the crowd.\n\nInstead of the usual \"1\" in the deaths column, this man had died exactly 17 times. As he looked out over the crowd, his eyes met mine and his face turned to a sickening scowl. \"Oh great,\" he muttered sarcastically.\n\nI turned to look at the rest of the crowd. They all shifted their glance between me, the unknown man and the scoreboard. The man took a step towards me and the crowd formed a path between us. \"Ex-excuse me,\" I stammered; \"There must be some kind of mistake.\" The man began to walk towards me, intently, cracking his knuckles. \"Do you know how many times I've had to come to this shithole because of you?\" He growled. \"I'm sorry sir, I'm not quite sure who you are. If I did kill you, I'm sure it was completely unintentional.\" The crowd began to box us in, forming a ring in which to brawl. The man popped his neck and rolled his shoulders as he squared up. \"I've been waiting for this for a long time,\" he said.\n\nI looked around the crowd, pleading with the bystanders to let me out. The man was stacked and clearly had a bone to pick with me, for what reason I knew not. I closed my eyes and fought back the tears. As I did, I heard a swooping of feathery wings lighting on my shoulder. The crowd gasped and the man shrieked. I looked toward the horrible creature and saw a pair of glowing red eyes peeking across a black beak. The man began to push against the opposite end of the crowd, as the bird gave me a knowing wink. I felt the weight lift off my shoulder and saw a flurry of jet black feathers encompass the man. The screams did not end as the bird began disemboweling him. The crowd shrank back to the corners of the room, as the blood began to spurt from the man's gut. \"Help me, please!\" He screamed, but the crowd nor the creature offered him mercy. His frantic cries soon turned to choked gurgling as the winged beast finished its meal.\n\nI looked toward the monster and asked, \"who are you?\" The scoreboard emitted an unfamiliar noise, as my tally grew to 18. The creature turned to meet me with its glowing red eyes. \"I am your humble servant, a spirit of dread. To know me is to know despair. What is your command, master?\"\n\nI looked out over the cowering crowd and felt a power unlike I had ever known."
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[WP] Write a horror story involving bunny rabbits/butterflies
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"There was a flash of greyish white behind a bush. Jason raised his slingshot but the same movement sent him teetering and then he was holding on to a tree for dear life. The sight of him like that, red in the face with an expression that said *who done went and turned off the gravity*? cracked me the hell up.\n\nOnly Earl didn't laugh at all. He was stone sober. And in a fluid motion, he pitched his sling and by then the rabbit was so far away and *zigg-zagging* no less that I would have a lot of bet money the shot was impossible. But he brought the little rabbit down all the same.\n\nChrist, even I had to admit that Earl was a *monster* with that thing.\n\nJason and I were packing special slingshots we'd picked up at the Florence backpacking shop in town. Earl had started the evening with an old, worn leather strap that he spun around before flicking out stones. And he *rained death* with that thing. So far, he was eight to Jason's zero.\n\nScratch that, nine with the last toss. Earl ran over and when he came back, he was holding a limp white form by its tail. No blood, but some of its upper ribs looked caved in. Sling hunting wasn't easy, and rabbits were fast. Best bet was to sneak up while they were sitting still and nail them in the head or chest.\n\nOr you could be better than the best bet and do it like Earl. It seemed the guy was incapable of missing. In the distance, behind a tree, in the dark, the fifth kill literally in between Jason's legs. He just swung and down she went, pretty as you please.\n\nHe walked off to stow the rabbit in his truck and I checked on Jason. He was still leaning against the tree, but now he was humming an old tune to himself.\n\n\"*Didigether*?\" he slurred.\n\n\"No, buddy, you didn't even fire,\" I responded.\n\n\"Dang.\"\n\nAnd then Earl was back and he was holding the label-less black bottle out, toward Jason. His homemade whiskey moonshine we'd been drinking all night. Tasted like liquefied tire, but Earl had said he would bring the drinks and we didn't know what he had in mind till we were out in the woods.\n\nEvery shot you missed, you had to take a shot. That was the deal. So by the time night found them, me and Jason wouldn't have been able to hit the broadside of a barn, not that we'd been much more capable in a sober light.\n\nI hadn't gotten any kills either, but I had been more judicious with the shots I took, and I had actually grazed three rabbits. Not brought them down, but a graze was a hit, Earl had said, and let me off from drinking the vile shit. Still I was sporting a mild buzz and Earl was piss drunk.\n\nIt was wabbit season and we were having some fun.\n\nBut enough was enough, Jason couldn't even stand straight.\n\n\"No, that's enough, Earl,\" I said. \"He didn't take the shot. He's had enough.\"\n\nEarl pointed at the ground where Jason had been standing. I walked over and there was a slug nut on the floor.\n\n\"Rules are rules,\" Earl said. \"The nut was in the sling. Thrown out or fell out, a shot is a shot and he missed.\" And then he raised the bottle to Jason.\n\nAnd I wanted to argue, but Jason took the bottle and said, \"*Sokaydavey*.\" And. \"*Imfineforalittlemore*.\" And then he was taking his drink.\n\nAfter that there weren't any more rabbits. We wandered around a little more Jason just wanted to sit down and *think* --- his word for sleep, and night owl that I was, even I was getting a bit tired. So we went back where we had parked the trucks and made a camp.\n\nI settled Jason against the most comfortable rock I could find. While Earl took to skinning some of the rabbits, I took to getting a fire going and eventually had some success. Together, me and Earl made a makeshift spit with some branches and got to roasting his rabbits. I asked, and he had rolled his eyes but said, yes, he would be sharing his rabbits with us terrible, terrible hunters.\n\nI smiled. Guess he wasn't all bad.\n\nAnd it was while the rabbit was cooking that I saw it, the long oily barrel and well-polished stock gleaming in the moonlight. Earl's shotgun.\n\nI couldn't help myself. I motioned at the weapon and asked \"You expecting trouble out here, Earl? This ain't bear country.\"\n\n\"*Itswabbitcountry*,\" Jason giggled, awake.\n\n\"No, I...\" Earl trailed off. \"It's nothing. Out in the woods. Just being mindful.\"\n\nAgain, I wanted to argue. Maybe that was my nature. But we were hardly in the remote jungle. We were a few miles into the woods behind the old Douglas farm.\n\nBut then Jason said, \"Oh, just tell him, Earl. He ain't gonna call you crazy. I mean, you *are* crazy, but he's too polite to call a man with a shotgun at his side crazy.\" And then he laughed.\n\n\"Tell me what,\" I asked.\n\n\"The real reason we're out here, tonight,\" Jason said.\n\n\"I thought we were out here to hunt rabbit and get drunk?\" I said. \"Well, it was a good idea to delegate. We get drunk, Earl hunts the rabbits. Real efficient like.\"\n\nEarl smiled, but Jason stretched on the rock and went on. \"Earl thinks there's a rabbit bigfoot out in these woods.\"\n\n\"I do *not* think there's a bigfoot out here,\" Earl started.\n\n\"Don't all rabbits have big feet?\" I couldn't help myself.\n\n\"No, not a rabbit with big feet. Like *Bigfoot* Bigfoot. Sasquatch. Only with big floppy ears and bucktooth to boot.\"\n\n\"Don't forget the wings,\" Earl said.\n\n\"Ohh, *yeah*. Apparently, it had wings too. Like big old butterfly wings. Anyways, Earl came out here to kill it.\"\n\nIt took some prodding before Earl would make with the story. Jason and him went way back to kids, they had grown up in the town, so he'd already heard this all before. When Earl was a kid, he'd come out rabbit hunting out here with his dad and two uncles one night. He had been excited because it had been the first time that he had been allowed to go hunting with the men. In his family, it was apparently something they did once a month, camped the three nights of the full moon. Since he had been a brat, he had asked to go but always been rebuffed on account that they came out here to booze it up mostly. But finally his father had pulled him aside and told him that he was finally old enough and so off he went, happy as could be.\n\nAnd it had been disappointing.\n\nHis uncles, his father, they had hardly hunted at all. Sure there was laughing and talking and even his first taste of white whiskey (that his father knew about). This part of the woods was known for being awful with rabbits, but they had given him a sling and told him to kill *one*.\n\n*Do not kill for the sake of killing, boy. Not here.*\n\n*These are not our lands.*\n\n*Kill what you need to survive and no more.*\n\nSome real native Indian shit. Earl knew they had Indian blood in the family from some great great grandpa or something that no one talked about, but he wasn't no *Indian*. But he was a great hunter, he had loads of practice with a sling already. He'd kill whatever he wanted.\n\nAnd then it had happened: while Earl was crawling through the shrubs, crawling away from his fourth kill, he had seen something rather ridiculous.\n\nIt was dark, he emphasized, cloudy so the moon hadn't been out like tonight. Still, he heard something crashing through the thick. Earl had stayed still, thinking it had been an uncle or his father that he might catch off guard and spook a bit, but the thing he saw made him freeze rooted to the spot.\n\nAnd even as a kid, when you believe all kinds of crazy shit, like Santa Claus, or the Easter Bunny, he knew he was seeing something just plain *wrong*. And it damn sure wasn't no Easter Bunny.\n\nIt was taller than a man, and it walked like a man, on two legs. But it was obviously a rabbit. It had big rabbit ears. It had big rabbit legs. And it also obviously *wasn't* a rabbit. It didn't have a rabbit nose or buckteeth. Instead, its face was grotesquely alien. The wide saucer eyes of an insect, a pair of antenna sprouting from its head, and a long swirled proboscis where its mouth should have been. And tucked behind its back, two huge iridescent scale wings were furled neatly.\n\nThe rabbit insect *thing* lumbered like that, right past Earl's hiding place and just when he thought it would keep on keeping on to out of sight, it stopped.\n\nIt leaned down.\n\nEarl squinted and saw its proboscis reach out and touch---\n\nThe dead rabbit he had left on the floor.\n\nAnd then the forest shook.\n\nEar splitting, literally. Earl felt like his head was liable to crack open. The rabbit insect thing had stood up and given a thunderous *sound*. It wasn't a cry. Or a roar. Or like anything he had heard since from any living being. The only way to describe it was everything in the forest, everything inside Earl, had shaking and trembling. Like the world's largest base system had been turned to face the ground and belt out some crazy rock harmony inside his bones and heart and lungs and skull.\n\nSleeping birds erupted from the trees and Earl's cry got lost in the uproar and squawks.\n\nAnd then Earl was running. He didn't know if the rabbit insect thing was chasing him, but he thought it was. He thought he heard his father and uncle crying out his name, but he wasn't sure and he kept running all the same. It wasn't the terror or the fear that was driving him. It was the pain in his head, the screaming shaking that made him feel like he was going to fall apart if he stayed even one second more.\n\nHe didn't stop running until he collapsed hours later and the search party found him the next day, cowering under a fallen tree log.\n\nHis father was dead. An uncle too. Their bodies were found torn up something awful back near where they had made camp.\n\nThe surviving uncle had returned to town and raised the alarm. He hadn't seen what had done it. And Earl only told them he had seen something huge wandering around. He didn't want them to think he was crazy. His uncle hadn't mentioned the awful shaking --- what Earl imagined it must feel like to shrink an earthquake down to pill size and swallow five of them whole."
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[WP] Every day when you look in the mirror, your opposite sex reflection looks back at you. One day, everything has changed.
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" I'm so confused... I mean I didn't like my body but I was fine with becoming a fit version of myself. I did have a conversation with some woman about my life but that was a long time ago. The weirdness started about a month ago but a week ago is when it got crazy. For one hour every day I'd see a woman in the mirrors reflection... nobody treated me differently and I was me when I looked down at myself. \n\n I thought I was just going crazy but that's the only thing that was different. It looked like Anna Kendrick a little actually and sometimes I'd just stare at myself. I didn't do anything... because I just wasn't into doing things like that, maybe it was a low drive or it was the fact I didn't like looking at my normal self... I didn't really know. It was so weird and I got used to looking everyday, seeing all the expressions and everything. \n\n Last week... I woke up to look at myself and things were odd, I felt different. When I sat up I felt like I wasn't myself anymore. I looked down to see I was wearing the same clothes but smaller so my black t-shirt showed off my new body's hourglass shape and I still had red flannel pajama bottoms. I lifted the pajama bottoms to see I was wearing black Calvin Klein briefs so that had changed. When I ran to the mirror I would usually stare in I saw my old reflection then it sorta faded into the one I had now that looked like Anna Kendrick. \n\n I wanted to see what was going on so I looked around the apartment to see it looked exactly the same, I still lived with the people I lived with and my room hadn't changed other than the clothes in it. I had a health problem before but now I was perfectly healthy and fit so my body was really the only thing that changed. I had to test something so I called my friend and asked if my voice sounded alright, she said it was and when I asked if I was always a woman she said yes and thought the question was weird so I just told her it was part of a test and we ended the call. \n\n I spent the week thinking I'd wake up as myself or at least see my old self in the reflection but nothing, I even checked every hour. There was a lot to get used to and since I was really fit now I'd wear a hoodie and sweatpants to jog everyday. Yesterday I started the... bleeding but the pills for it combined with modern stuff for it just makes it easy enough to deal with... it still sucks but not as bad as it has to. \n\n I don't know how to feel about this all, I'm in my room now playing Fallout 4 thinking if this is the way I'd want to stay. So far the only bad thing has been the bleeding and the fact I had to actually shave... it's not too difficult once I got used to it. Everything's weird but it's better... I guess I could stay this way."
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[WP] "What is it like to remember?"
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"The squire knelt down on her knees and looked up, ignoring the cold spike of the pouring rain running trembling fingers down her cheeks. Icy cold, she shook slightly, despite the heavy armored jacket straddling her too small shoulders, sleeves swallowing hands. It felt heavier than it should. Perhaps the noble crests and insignia carried more unearthly weight than just that dictated by Lenra on high.\n\nThe squire thought she might see Lenra now, peering down with her dress as bright as the moon.\n\n\"...Tynor.\" The squire asked, looking over at her knightmaster. A shock of white hair cascading down from his hair, wrinkled and ill kept, ratty with rain water and the debris of a proper day's journey. The rest was sealed in armor. There was hardly any point in wearing a helmet in this weather, and both of them were freezing.\n\nTynor just didn't show it. Muse tried her best not to.\n\n\"Muse.\" Tynor said, looking down at her. His too sharp teeth gleamed as he thought it over, mouth slightly open.\n\nMuse looked away. \n\n\"Are you sure you want the answer to that?\"\n\nNo sword gleamed on his back, but his angular face felt sharper than an unarmed person might. The slight gleam of magic dripped from his finger tips as he thought about it. Muse watched this from the corner of his eyes, watched the patterns as he bled off into the environment.\n\nMuse's own flicker of healing magic didn't do much against the rain. Not that it should.\n\n\"Might as well.\" Muse said, standing up. \"We need something to do.\"\n\nTynor pursed his lips and shook his head. \"It's not easy to talk about.\"\n\nMuse gave him a look. Both soaked to the bone, his blue eyes rested on her yellow eyes for just a moment, and then he started to walk away.\n\nShe could barely hear her sigh as she caught up to Tynor.\n\n\"Mm... To Remember...\" Tynor started. \"You remember yesterday, yes Muse?\"\n\n\"Of course I do.\" Muse said. \n\n\"And you can remember the day before that, and the day before that.\" Tynor stated, stepping beside her.\n\n\"Yes yes, get to it.\"\n\n\"Don't rush me.\"\n\n\"Sorry.\" She apologized, they both knew she didn't mean a word.\n\nTynor gestured up towards the moon, perpetually visible despite the storm. \"Lenra can see everything under her glow, but Auryn has no eyes.\"\n\n\"Justice really is blind?\" Muse asked, cocking her head to the side.\n\nIgnoring her interruption, Tynor continued. \"So she looks through the eyes of her chosen champions. She sees you right now, Muse.\"\n\nMuse hoped she didn't look like too much of a mess, but considering her hair was perpetually seconds from falling into her face, and the rest of it slid uneasily against her neck and armored jacket, she knew she was nothing special.\n\n\"And how is this like Remembering?\"\n\n\"She can't tell the difference between Champions. Sometimes, I can remember something from centuries ago, like it's rolling across my tongue as a burning ember and any moment from now I should start crying. Blades piercing through armor. Cities burning. Things from centuries ago. Things in the future. Things that...\" Tynor stopped, and looked at the squire.\n\n\"Muse, do you remember the first time you killed?\"\n\nMuse did remember, and it was still too soon for her mind to slide easily past it. It flashed across her eyes like a cannonball, killing everything else for a solid moment. Knotting up her chest. Sealing her veins with glue.\n\nTynor carefully touched her on the shoulder.\n\n\"Auren remembers every one of her champions. Each of their memories. All the ones that really matter, the ones that stick. The ones that play behind your eyes when you're trying to sleep. The ones that kick you in the chest, bring tears to your eyes. The ones that make you who you are. They all play out separately, and war with each other. Dozens of eras. Things from other worlds.\"\n\nMuse nodded slowly.\n\n\"I just pray you won't need to carry this burden too.\" \n\nThe red star of the wargod gleamed overhead, and down at the Azure knight in the arena, staring at a little girl coated in blood.\n\nhttps://www.reddit.com/r/Zubergoodstories/ If you'd like more of things like this.\n\nA somewhat continuation from a prompt written by XcessiveSmash, which can be found here.\n\nhttps://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/6e84zk/wp_after_defeating_countless_villains_monsters/\n",
"Hold on, you're asking me what it's like to remember?\nSeriously? \nYou realize, by asking this question, you have wholeheartedly convinced me to not tell you? My time is valuable, to me anyways. It's a finite resource, something I'll never get back, and it would be wasted on someone who won't even be able recall this very conversation.\n\nI mean, how do you live?! As far as I can tell, the very essence of a life worth living is a collection of memories, cherished ones, tarnished ones, even the ones you'd rather forget, all of those are what make you a *person.\nMemories are what draw us together, and they are what keep us together! As families, as countries, as a species. It is how we progress from mere instruments of survival and aspire to something greater than ourselves. Our memories provide us the drive to add new ones, to imprint ourselves on the memories of others!\n\nOf course, I may be overstating the topic...\n\nAt it's core, a memory is a slice of time. And even though you can't see it, or hear it, or feel it in a *traditional* sense, you can turn it over in your mind, view it from every angle, relive it in the most genuine or beautiful sense, or experience it's most visceral and violent qualities as if it happened all over again. At least, that's how it's supposed to work.\n\nThe human mind has a funny way of distorting a memory, inserting more pleasurable elements, removing aspects it finds unsettling, or altogether dropping entire slices in favor of new ones. Or, in the most tragic of cases, replacing them with nothing at all. It is no coincidence, then, that often times those that are afflicted with such an ailment may as well be dead to those who loved them. \n\nAnd what do we do when that happens? We do everything in our power to retain the memories we have of that individual, in photographs, on film, through objects, in our minds, and in our hearts. In that sense, a person never really dies until the memory of them is lost. That is the power of memory.\n\nWe hold on to this power, with all our being, for this is what makes us human. \n\n\n\n",
"\"What's it like to remember?\"\n\nThe golem turned its head and stared out at the sea. \n\"It is a blessing....and a curse.\" It said slowly, the voice pouring out like gravel. \n\nThe boy tilted his head to the side, eyes wide. He could not have been more than 10 years old. \n\n\"What do you remember?\" He asked. \n\nThe golem continued to look outward. The stone face indicated no emotion besides the solemn pensiveness that was always there. It lifted a great stone hand, covered in moss, and picked up a rock from the cliff side where they sat.\n\n\"I remember being...this.\" It said. \"It was easier. I saw things change. I felt them, deep inside. The earth spoke to me.\" \n\nThe boys eyes grew wide in wonder.\n\n\"I remember when the rocks all fell. When they became a pile, and I was buried for what felt like an eternity, in the darkness of the bottom of the pile. I remember...\" It paused.\n\n\"What? Asked the boy. The Golem raised a hand and gently gestured for the boy to step into it. He did so, and slowly, carefully like he was holding an egg made of China, the golem lifted the boy into the air.\n\n\"The rocks fell again.\" He said, softer.\n\"I saw...the sunset.\" \n\n\"Like the one we see now?\" The boy asked quietly. \n\n\"Yes.\" It replied. \"But cherish each sun set. Each is unique in its own right. And memory shall serve you best. For each sunset shall be more beautiful than the last.\" \n\nThe boy smiles, and sat down in the creatures huge hands. \"Thank you, Rocky.\"\n\nRocky smiles, his stony teeth a mossy green. \"Yes, John. Of course.\"",
"What's it like to remember? \n\nThe old man sitting on the wooden floor, he raised his head and looked at the boy \n\nhis eyes were full of sadness \n\nhe was broken and alone \n\nhe doesn't even know how the child found him in this abandoned attic \n\nwhy did this kid enter a place with broken windows, destroyed furniture, and cobwebs in every corner \n\nhe didn't think \n\nall he did was talk and answer questions \n\nand while he talked all he did was stare at the ground and fiddle with something in his pocket \n\nbut he stopped \n\nhe looked up \n\nhe took his hand out of his pocket \n\n\"What's it like to remember?\"\n\nthese five words that rushed in his head made him stop to think \n\nthe question was simple \n\nhe could answer it with nothing but a single word \n\nbut will it be true and is this what i really feel, he thought to himself \n\n\"it's complicated\" he answered while staring at the boy\n\nthe boy smiled\n\n\"I'll understand you, it's OK\"\n\nthe man groaned\n\n\"fine, Have it your way\"\n\nhe sighed and took a breath as he stared at the ceiling \n\n\"memories are a complex concept my boy, they aren't physical but they hold a space that's bigger than anything will ever be\"\n\nhe moved his gaze down and looked at the dress hanging behind the boy \n\n\"remembering, is when you recollect a past experience and try to relive it in your head, but at what cost, you are not where your thoughts are and your mind leaves your soul stranded when those memories decide to wrap your conscious\"\n\n\"you take a small dip into the pool of memories in order to calm your senses, only to find that you drowned in the sorrows of the past and lost your control in the raging sea you thought of as a pool\"\n\n\"your mind screams as you get thrown around in the storm, you have nothing to grab on except your sanity, but at this point it's long gone \"\n\nThe man stopped speaking \n\nhis eyes rolled down from the dress \n\nbeneath the dress a pair of high heels were resting \n\nalthough they were covered in dust, their bright red colour shined more than anything in the room \n\n\"and then what happens\" the boy asked as he sat down to face the man \n\n\" then you are gone forever in your made up happiness, although the memories are nice and warm, but the after taste is cold and rough, you are thrown around in a storm that has no sign of calming down, and those are the memories you love, remembering your sad memories is a much worse experience\"\n\nthe man sniffled and moved his line of sight to meet the boy's eyes \n\n\"the memories that you share with others are the best there kind there is and nothing could ever compare to them, no amount of riches could be ever compared to the over flowing joy someone feels when they are surrounded by love\" \n\n\"but see my boy, once you are alone with nothing but these memories, that's where it gets you\"\n\n\"All those wonderful moments that you will never be able to live again hurt you more than you can imagine\"\nThe man couldn't stop the tear from rolling down his cheeks\n\n\"when you are sad and alone with no one to pull you away from that sea of yours you realize that this is worst you've ever been and that nothing can fix you, there is no life saving boat, there are no saviors, and there is no getting out\"\n\nthe tears dropped down from his chin where they gathered \n\nhis shaking chin let them fall to the ground\n\nhe could not stop \n\nhe could not resist \n\nhis chest pounds \n\nhis face wrinkles \n\nhis heart aches \n\nand his soul cries with him \n\nit was time to let his emotions flow \n\nhe can't and he shouldn't keep this in\n\nthis is the time for that weight on his chest to drop \n\nhe wrapped his face with his hands as he cried\n \nthe boy put his hands on the old man's shoulders \n\nthey felt comforting \n\njust what he needed at that moment \n\n\"need I continue\" the old man whispered \n\n\"No\" the boy replied \n\n\"but you are forgetting the most important parts\"\n\n\"what are they\" the man asked with a low voice\n\n\"The fact that you lived those memories\"\n\nThe man sniffled loudly after he stopped crying, he released his face from the clutches of his hands, his watery eyes looked at the boy with hope\n\nthe boy smiled\n\n\" you have lived those wonderful moments and nothing could ever change that, you have experienced those overwhelming bursts of joy and you have embraced those moments\"\n\n\" the fact that you went too deep in thought about them only shows how much you love remembering them, you love them so much that you were able to relive them in your head\"\n\n\" you are not lost in the sea, you're in a knee deep lake, you're just crouching down and putting your head in the water to fool yourself\"\n\n\"you are not lost, just confused and scared, stand up and look at the lake, stop crouching down with your agony and learn to appreciate what's gone, appreciate it because it was there\"\n\nthe man's eyes lit with a glitter of hope\n\nhe did not know what to say \n\nhe put his hand into his pocket and took out a small metal object\n\n *click* \n\nthe pocket watch opened with an audible sound to reveal the picture of a smiling woman \n\nthe rhythm of the man's heart beat changed \n\nhe was a little calmer\n\n\" i still have the memories i remember , and I'll never forget them no matter what happens \"\n\na genuine smile drew it self on his face \n\n\" I know what you are \" he said to the boy \n\n\" i could say much more, but i don't need to ,thank you for doing this\"\n\nthe boy extended his arm towards the man and smiled \n\n\" you're welcome , you deserve to be happy and calm, and the fact that you know me will make this much easier for both of us\"\n\nthe man took the hand of the boy into his and asked with a smile \n\n\" Will i see her there \"\n\n\" most likely \" was the answer he heard\n\n\" I'm ready, there couldn't be a better way for me\"\n\nthe boy pulled on the man's hand gently \n\nthe man's body gently fell into it's resting position \n\nthe smile on his face made him look 10 years younger\n\nhe looked exactly the same he looks when he is sleeping\n\nhe was happy\n\nhis heart was at ease \n\nhe is at rest.",
"There's a smooth pebble stone that sits on my desk. It's perfectly rounded to the point where it shines in the sunlight and it's slippery when you hold it. I use it as a paperweight for all the work that I do these days. But recently, it's become more of a problem. \n\nYou see - that stone isn't just any simple stone. To anyone else, it might be, sure. But for me, that stone is extremely special. It's special because it represents a memory. A memory that, like the stone, will never leave me. \n\nIt was back when I worked caring for traumatised children. I have many stories from this time of my life, good ones and bad ones, for sure. I've seen the worst of humanity and the best of it. I've seen the scars of abuse and the smiles of survival. But, in particular, this one child comes to mind. \n\nShe was a sheepish, quiet girl around ten years old when I met her. The cruelty of life had robbed her of many things. She didn't have any parents, she didn't have a home, she didn't have any family, and, tragically, due to psychological complications, she had no memory. She remembered basic functions, but any event or conversation that happened a few days ago would be lost to her.\n\nWhat she did have, though, is the cutest, wholesome, most heartwarming smile that I have ever seen on any person, ever. And that's not an exaggeration. Despite her situation, she was always the light in the darkness. She would be constantly giggling or telling jokes and she would generally just be happy to be alive. She lived in the moment, too filled with childlike innocence to worry about her future, and unable to dredge up memories of her past. \n\nShe would give me pebbles every day. The best ones from her front garden. Ones with weird shapes, ones that were smooth, big ones, small ones, all kinds. Every single day, with no exception. For two entire years. \n\nAnd then one day, whilst drawing a picture with some crayons, she looked up at me and asked a question.\n\n\"What's it like to remember?\"\n\nI asked her to bring my box of pebbles. She dragged it towards me, it was getting quite heavy at that point. Then I plunged my hand into it and pulled out a perfectly rounded, shining pebble. \n\n\"Memories are like these pebbles,\" I began. \"You said you got these ones from your front garden, right?\" \nShe nodded. \n\"But you picked this one up, why?\" \n\"I only pick the nice ones to give to you.\" \n\"Well,\" I continued, \"Just like in life, there are lots of memories in the world. Uninteresting ones, bad ones, things that you want to forget.\" I held the smooth stone in front of her eyes. \"But in all of those bad memories, there's the nice ones. The happy ones. The ones you want to cherish forever.\" \n\"Will I be a happy memory to you?\" \nI smiled and nodded. \"Of course you'll be.\" \n\nNow, fifteen years later, the Pebble remains. It's there whenever I'm doing work. Even after a stressful day I can't help but smile as I look at it. Because this stone isn't just any simple stone. It's a memory of a girl who couldn't remember.\n\n\n"
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[WP] The 13 lunar colonies are fed up with the endless exploitation of their mineral resources being shipped back Earthside without fair compensation, and have declared Independence from Earth.
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"Fred was one of the founding colonizers of the moon. For 15 years he had eaten nothing but MREs. He rationed himself to only one thousand breaths a day to conserve oxigen in his tank. \n\nBecause US incorporations continued shoveling up moon dust from his land to sell as keepsakes to interested earthlings, Fred was furious. The company did all this to him without permit or fair compensation. Sure, one pound of moon dust now valued less than two pennies (The Russians had broke the monopoly when two years earlier they shipped fifty tons of moon rock back to earth) But still, this was his land. Completely worthless-- but still his."
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[WP] The Grim Reaper appears one day to spirit you to the afterlife, and exclaims, "Ah crap, not you again."
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"\"What?\" I asked, feeling scared but also insulted.\n\nThe Grim Reaper lets out a sigh, and face palmed for a minute before looking back up, \"I swear to God if this is another clerical mistake, I will kill Jeffrey.\" He said, his jaw only going up and down but somehow still managing to speak.\n\n\"Jeffrey? Who- what's going on here? Give me some answers\" I asked, feeling impatient.\n\n\"You're supposed to be immortal, I checked. God fucking dammit Jeffrey.\" He cursed, reaching into his pocket.\n\n\"Hey- hey! Don't do anything silly now alright. Jus- Just stay away!!\" I shouted. I was sweating and my legs were wobbling, fearing what he was going to do.\n\n\"I'm reaching for my phone, keep it down.\" He said calmly. He pulled out a iPhone 7S, \"Jeffrey? Yeah it's Grim here. Why am I at HIS place again?.. No.. not god. HIM.... YES, the immortal.. What?.. alright, I'll talk to him.\" He put his phone back into his pocket and turn back to me.\n\n\"Alright buddy, we need to talk.\" He stared into me with his empty eye sockets. Despite not having eyes, I could feel his just staring through me.\n\n\"I'm immortal?\" I asked, smiling palely. \n\nHe nodded his head, \"Yes.. and No.\" \n\n\"What do you mean?\"\n\n\"Your dates keep appearing and disappearing, constantly changing\"\n\n\"Hey, I'm trying to commit okay, it's them that-\"\n\n\"Not that date, your death date.\"\n\n\"Oh.\"\n\n\"Any idea why, immortal?\"\n\n\"Maybe it's the cancer\"\n\n\"You have been a chain smoker.\"\n\n\"Maybe Jeffrey was right then..\"\n\n\"Maybe he was.\"\n\n\n\n\n\n\n",
"\"Ah, crap. Not you again,\" the Grim Reaper said, staring at me, dismayed. He (I assume it was a he) stuck his scythe into the ground and rummaged around in his robe, pulling out a scroll and using some sort of bone pen to make a note.\n\nHe joined me as I stood, staring at my body. \n\n\"Come on, kid,\" he said, grabbing my arm. \"Let's get you checked in before business picks up.\"\n\n\"Ow ow ow,\" I cried as his bony fingers cut into my arm. \"Lighten up, will you?\"\n\n\"Not a chance, you pain in my bony white ass,\" the Grim Reaper said. \"Every time you reincarnate and die, you try to avoid going back to judgment and you soul hop from body to body and I end up having to reap them just to get you.\"\n\n\"It can't have been that bad,\" I protest.\n\n\"Oh really?\" He said, dragging me with him. \"The last time I had to reap 6 million Jews. The time before that, I ended up killing over half of Europe with a plague. Do you have ANY idea how long it takes to drag 6 million people to judgment? Do you?\"\n\n\"Um,\" I offered. \n\n\"No, of course you don't,\" the Reaper muttered. \"Three fricking years of overtime just because you can't even.....\""
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Is everyone aware of the repeating? Is everyone aware as to why? How do people react if they figure out what's going on, it's up to you to decide
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[Wp] the same day is repeated until every single person on earth survives through the day
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"\"Alex, sometimes I think you're the lucky one.\" Said Beth, looking out a dark window over the city lights. \n\n\"You mean being stuck in this crib, without the muscle mass to even stand? Never seeing the sun, unable to explore the world?\" I said in my high-pitched baby voice, vainly attempting to hoist myself so that I was sitting upright. \n\n \"It's just that everything goes by so fast for you. I know I could just dive headfirst out of this window every awakening, but even that becomes tiring.\" Beth walked over and lifted me from my crib. She looked at me longingly \"Your entire life is just this small window of time in my mornings. And when you die I know you're already talking to me the next day.\"\n\nI looked at her quizzically, \"you know last time you started saying things like this it did NOT bode well for me.\" I did the best neck slicing impressing I could with my emaciated arms. Beth looked away. \"Aw, I'm just teasing. I know you're ashamed of that. Was there anything new that happened yesterday?\" It was getting harder to breathe very quickly. \"By the way, I usually die quite a bit earlier when you pick me up.\" \n\n\"I know. I just thought you might appreciate the view. And lots. I wish you could see how much the world changes throughout the day. We know so much more now compared to when we built all of this. By the end of each day this city looks completely different, like the world begins to feel the weight of the millennia which have worn us all down. All your conditions are completely cured to human knowledge. But the available technology is not ready until about 3 hours in and is not easily obtainable until about 5 hours in. The real challenge is creating so much in such a short amount of time.\"\n\n\"From my perspective it's only been a few years since those numbers were twice as large. Maybe I'll finally get to directly talk to my parents.\"\n\nBeth laughed and said, \"Hey, I taught you to talk. Why don't I get the mom card?\" My breathing turned to wheezing. Beth motioned to set me back in my crib, but I grabbed at her shirt\n\n\"no...\" I struggled to say between wheezes, \"This part always sucks. And warmth feels good.\" Beth sat back down and cradled me. \"Thanks, mom.\" I joked.\n\nBeth responded with a sad smile. \"One day you will see the sunrise. And I hope one day we will figure out what is happening so that I can watch you grow.\" And in a brief moment the clock jumped backward to 1:37AM. I was back in my crib and Beth was looking out the dark window over the city lights. ",
"Doctor Brosya's bleary and blood-shot eyes watched the seconds arm of his watch tick a slow march towards 6:59:59PM. He stood over a limp body still covered in the loose refuse of hurried and desperate medical attention. Several other hospital staff lay around him in various states of disarray. Someone near the door was sobbing quietly.\n\n\"Time of death, 6:58PM.\" He said before hanging his head, his knuckles turning white on the beds railing.\n\n\"Maybe we'll get it next time.\" One of the nurses on the floor said around a cigarette planted firmly in her lips.\n\n\"Next time, Mariana?\" The sobbing voice said softly, coming from a young nurse curled up in the corner.\n\n\"Yes, next time. Jesus Jodi get it together.\" Mariana said, before taking a long drag and handing the cigarette to Brosya.\n\nHe began to shake his head, but relinquished with a sigh.\n\n\"How many more next times? I was talking with the cop who was guarding this piece of shit. I remember so many, I don't remember yesterday. He barely remembers his wife.\" The Jodi said, rubbing her arms.\n\n\"As many as we need.\" Mariana said, taking the cigarette back from Brosya.\n\n\"No she has a point.\" He said finally, checking his watch again.\n\nThey both looked at him.\n\n\"Not that it matters because we are about to loop again and I can't really explain it in forty-five seconds, but I've noticed the same thing. I'm starting to lose earlier memories, I just have different versions of today over and over. So many I can't tell what belongs to what and what worked and what didn't anymore. I'm fucking lost, but I do know one thing, this is the longest we've kept him alive in what? Three hundred, maybe four hundred iterations?\"\n\n\"Well, you know what, I propose something different then!\" Jodi screamed.\n\nBrosya looked up from his watch in time to see Jodi place a pistol under her chin and pull the trigger. Undoubtedly the officers pistol, he did not have enough time to consider how she got it from him before everything turned off.\n\n----\n\n\"Dr. Brosya! Dr. Brosya!\" he heard rapid footsteps outside of the operating theater. \n\nHe glanced at his watch, 7:00:00AM. His twenty four hour shifted had just ended seconds before the call came.\n\nA gurney pushed the operating theater door open, a gravely wounded man being ventilated by a tentative paramedic. An officer was following closely behind.\n\n\"We need an assist!\" A nurse shouted as she entered behind the gurney.\n\n\"I'm here.\" Brosya said over the growing noise.\n\n\"Multiple GSW, possible brain bleed.\" The nurse said loudly.\n\n\"We need to Stabilize...\" Brosya began to say as his vision turned cloudy. He felt arms surround him as his knees collapsed. \n\n\"Doctor!\" his assistant cried.\n\n\"I'm alright, just tired.\"\n\n\"You need to sit down. You can't-\"\n\n\"I know. Continue here, call Dr. Tracy, I'm going to step into the hall.\" He let his assistant help him up and let himself out of the operating theater. \n\nHe wandered to the nurses station in a daze, a sense of Deja Vu filling him with dread.\n\n\"Jodi?\" He called out as he rounded the corner, but found an empty nurses station.\n\nHe walked circles around the station, looking for anybody. He returned to the operating theater to find them working away to save the criminal's life.\n\nMariana looked up at him, and he could see in her eyes that she just remembered also.\n\n\"Jodi?\" She asked. \n\nEveryone stopped, and Brosya could see the cop checking his holster where his police issue glock was still locked in place.\n\n\"There's nobody out there.\" He said before turning to the cop. \"Can you tell me why he was shot?\"\n\n\"Armed robbery, nicked my partner in the arm before we got one on him.\" \n\n\"Wake him up.\" He said to the nurses surrounding the operating table.\n\n\"You can't be serious.\" Someone said.\n\n\"Do it!\" He shouted.\n\nThere was a little commotion as they prepped syringe and delivered it into the IV they had just placed. A few seconds later the man slowly woke, and looked around confused and pained.\n\nBrosya closed the distance and leaned in to the mans face.\n\n\"What is it about you?\" he asked.\n\n\"What?\" The man replied, confused.\n\n\"Why is it every time you die we start this over. What the fuck are you?\" He was spraying spittle, shouting at the top of his lungs.\n\n\"I don't know!\" The man cried, and machines began beeping around them.\n\n\"Why!\" Brosya screamed.\n\nThe man was crying and the nurses swarmed as the alarms changed tone to emergency.\n\nBrosya stormed from the operating theater leaving the stunned nurses behind. He marched down the hall and past the nurses station. But every step he took grew heavier, and he slowed. The air got thicker until he was using all of his strength to move his foot inches. He screamed at the top of his lungs. He screamed until his vocal cords were blown. He screamed until all he could manage was a blood curdling gurgle. He pushed with every fiber of his being, the pain fueling his rage.\n\nAnd then the resistance was gone, and he fell in a pile. He began crying, unable to scream he breathed raggedly while convulsing.\n\nHis eyes were cloudy with tears, but he could see the black blurs approaching him. They were shouting to each other and at him, but he could not make it out. He could see they were swat officers as they grew closer, and one grabbed his shoulder and began pulling as the others watched, guns trained down the empty hall.\n\n---\n\n\"Twenty years!?\" Brosya cried out, spilling coffee on his trembling hands. He coughed sharply as his throat twinged from the sudden outburst. He had to speak quietly to retain any kind of voice.\n\n\"Unfortunately, yes. A little over seven thousand repetitions of that day. As far as we can tell, there is no significance or meaning to the event. This is the first non theoretical instance of a false vacuum universe, we have studied the outside since that first day and barely know more than you do. You are the only thing to ever come out of it, of any kind. It doesn't even emit radiation.\"\n\n\"False vacuum universe? Doesn't that mean they will all die once it collapses?\"\n\n\"That seems likely, based on our current theoretical projections.\"\n\nBrosya looked into his coffee, prepared to feel shame that he had escaped. But he felt a calm. He was out. Somehow.\n\n\"How did they find me so fast?\"\n\n\"That's a little complicated. I wasn't entirely truthful, something did come out of it.\"\n\n\"How so? What?\"\n\nThe director pursed his lips, and finally turned his computer monitor towards Brosya. He played the video he had maximized, security camera footage trained on the hallway they had found him in.\n\nThe room was filled with a distant scream, reverberated infinitely into a great roar of noise. The director navigated later into the video, the time stamp reading several hours later. The screaming was now a shrieking and ghastly sound that made Brosya's hair stand on end.\n\n\"We knew you were coming for quite awhile. You said you must have screamed for maybe five minutes as you pushed through the boundary.\"\n\nBrosya looked closer at the date on the camera footage, the morning of the very first loop twenty years ago. The scream died out eventually, and the video switched to the next one. The day had incremented, but everything else was exactly the same. The scream began.\n\nHe took the mouse from the director and selected the next video, the day was different but the scream was the same.\n\nHe clicked a random video, and was met with his voice once more, several years later.\n\n\"How long.\"\n\n\"Until you came out screaming.\" "
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[WP] Write a trip to a nearby store as a gritty noir
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"The door closes behind me as I step out of my apartment into the dim hallway. I tug on the handle, feeling the permanently damp rotting wood give a little. Only a matter of time before it comes off in my hand. Not that I really care - nothing inside to steal anyway. Barely enough money to head to the nearby store for some shitty junk food for dinner. They say crime doesn't pay. Well, neither does being a down-on-his-luck writer without a story to tell. Pretty sure the pusher next door is doing better than me though; see glimpses of his 60\" plasma through the bullet holes in the wall behind my bed. \n\nWhat is it with rundown apartment blocks and flickering lights, anyway? The cliche is irritating, but I step through it and head down the damp piss stained stairwell. I'd take the lift, but it isn't even there anymore. Don't know how that's possible. From the smell wafting up out of the gaping doors I'm guessing people are pissing there too, and worse.\n\nLife hands me a joke as I step out: it's raining hard. Funny. Problem is the street lights don't work out here so now I can't see for shit with the dark clouds rolling overhead. Doesn't really matter since I know the way to the store with my eyes closed. I could step around the filthy puddles in the sidewalk and jacked up nobodies slumping against the side of the building without having to look. So I stuff my hands in my pockets, hunch against the cold spray and shuffle forward. If you look like you got a purpose around here, someone'll come along and try to take it from you.\n\n*Ding ding ding*\n\nThe door chimes as I open it. It lets the guy behind the counter know to open the metal peephole he's got in the shutter surrounding it. I can feel his twitchy eye looking me up and down as I grab a deflated bag of chips and a dusty can of coke. I suppress a smile at that. I'd probably get shot for it.\n\nThe eye follows me as I approach the counter with my chosen wares. \"That's gonna be $3.50,\" it says. A panel opens up to accept my coins and I look up to see that the shopkeeper is actually a 15 story tall Diplodicus from the Jurassic Era."
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[WP] You're excited about your date tonight, but also very nervous. There's a full moon scheduled tonight, and he/she doesn't know you're a weregoose.
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"I straightened my tie in the mirror, and flashed myself a smile. I've never felt anything less than tremendously paranoid about my looks, and the flashy suit and hair-cut was as evidently overbearing as it was factually shielding my self-esteem. Everything about my exterior presentation is make-up for the weak, nervous wreck inside, a shell to cower in, so that any part of me I hate could be blamed on my artificial self rather than the person I am inside. I do not know what is of more importance to me, lying to the world about who I am or lying to myself, and while I am conscious enough to recognize this I continue to live self destructively. I don't know where this behavior is rooted from: possibilities include upbringing in which my parents and peers taught me to hate every characteristic I saw in myself; my trust issues stemming from my long term romantic partner destroying our relationship by going behind my back gain sexual gratification from any man she could lay her hands on except for me, apparently; or the fact that every day of my life from the hours of 12 A.M. to 8 A.M. I morph into a grotesque humanoid version of Christmas dinner. It's a mystery to me, as all three seem equally as viable, though my track record seems to point towards the issue being a fault brought on by myself and nothing else that I'm eager to pin on multitudes of unrelated events in my life. I'm inherently a fuck-up, I don't need external variables to make my inner-being exponentially more catastrophic, I just seem to naturally be inclined to do so by some force so rigid and inert that all efforts to subvert it only fuel the barreling speed of its inclination.\n\nI didn't know what on this particular week had made me temporarily immune to the effects of my soul-grating self-deprecation, but I finally had felt like I needed someone else in my life again. Distraction had proven to be the best method for coping, and I figured I'd give getting laid another shot before I finally swallowed a bullet. In addition Mills was sensational. That can't be understated, the moment I set eyes on her I felt like I could actually be better. Like I needed to be. She just had this air about her. It was intoxicating. When I saw her I understood the the pretentious bullshit artists spouted on about, the beauty of the human form. She seemed unreal, laying eyes on her made my mind feel surreal. It felt like childhood synesthesia. Everything felt like it bloomed with meaning and mystery and color and ideas, and in a world full of the bleak and mundane monotony of becoming too familiar with my surroundings I knew that this feeling was something to cherish. I somehow saw details in her that were physically non-existent, if that makes any sense. The way the strings and atoms and neurons and cells that compounded to form Milly corresponded to each other made me feel impossible sensations when I perceived them. And best of all she was a pescetarian, and the farther someone gets from consuming anything remotely avian the more infatuated I get with them. Plus, she was the first person in history to sift through my fridge without being gravely concerned about the tupperware full of grass and roots inside with the words \"Midnight Snack, Property of Frank, Do Not Touch\" written in black sharpie, (though this seems unnecessary and incriminating, it is actually a very useful thing to do when your dearest friend and roommate is a were-goat, because then he can't claim that it was HIS grass when you find the empty container in his room. Larry. I'm fucking looking at you. Cheeky grass mooching twat.) and though it seems like being concerned about such things isn't such a big deal, youd be surprised about how tiring explaining it away time after time can get. (((I'll add to this later I hope, though usually when I say this with stories I never do.)))",
"He was nice, and his smiles actually seemed genuine. She had seen all types of smiles. They smirk, they twinkle and they lear, but rarely do they show honesty. But his held little effort, and came easily as they spoke.\n\nAnd the chit chat was genuine. She had hear all types of chit chat. They chatter, they babble and blather, but rarely did they speak honestly. But his was natural, and their conversation flowed.\n\nIt is truly a place where dreams are made, on that arching bridge over the shallow pond as the yellow light fell softly on her shoulders and caught heavily in his eyes. They watched the swans move out in pairs with necks held close in arching hearts. How she wished that she would find her gander, and as she looked at her date's soft face she believe perhaps her curse was lifted at last. But as conversation flowed, so the moon rose. And as the moon rose, so the date (and conversation) came to the full moon rising beautiful over the city lake. \n\n\n\"What sound does a swan make,\" he asked. The magical mood suddenly halted as he looked at her inquisitively. She looked back perplexed, but failed to make answer.\n\n\"Or a goose for that matter,\" he continued. \"Do they honk? Or is it a bleet?\" His mind was lost in the questions and his arm slackened at her shoulder as he faded in thought. \"Perhaps it's a hoot? No, that's an owl.\"\n\nHe looked at her for confirmation at the sounds which he had made. But as she looked to answer, all she could say was...\n\n\"Haaannnhhhkkk!!!\"\n\n"
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[WP] You play a game of yhatzee against the devil if you win you live forever. If you lose your body will gradually turn into garlic mashed potatoes untill you are 100% garlic mashed potatoes.
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"Notes to self: one, Sam am allergic to parsley don't add it to Sunday dinner; two, Sam's father is the devil; three, start going to church the devil is real; four, buy a new pan the no stick is gone; five, the devil gets mad if you call him Luci; and finally don't feed the devil garlic mash potatoes.\n\n\"In the the name of all that is dank, deplorable, and evil and for the sake of dad what the home sweet home is that!\" \n\n\"Um... Mash\" I replied weakly, and characteristically\n\n\"You dare sully the name of mash with such filth!\" It was clear from the bored expression on Sam's face this was not the first time her dar had done this. \"Under chapter 4 of the Bill and Ted amendment to the Hell constitution I challenge thee to a competition of wits, if you win you will be granted eternal life and the hand of my daughter\"\n\n\"Ahem\"\n\n\"If she agrees of course, bring me your chessboard\"\n\nI, not owning a chessboard on account of it being 2017 stared blankly at the devil.\n\n\"Did I say it wrong\" he muttered to Sam losing the force from his voice.\n\n\"I, um, don't have a chessboard... Sir, should I c-\"\n\n\"Then bring your go board\"\n\n\"Sorry\"\n\n\"Monopoly?\"\n\n\"Nope\"\n\n\"Twister?\"\n\n\"No\"\n\n\"Candy land?!\"\n\n\"Does a 6 year old live here?\"\n\n\"What game of skill... Or candy land, do you possess?\"\n\n\"Greg bought me yhatzee for Christmas\"\n\n\"Then we shall play yhatzee for your life, but if you lose you will suffer for the rest of time as sentient garlic mash eaten by tasteless four year olds\"\n\n\"Do I have a choice\"\n\n\"I'm the devil, take a guess\"...\n\n\n*I will continue this later*"
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Bonus points if it's not human.
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[WP] A corpse staggered onto your orchard from the wilderness. As your family hides in fear, it steals an apple from your tree, bites it, and collapses, wailing.
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"Clutching a powerful pair of binoculars in one hand and her sleeping toddler in her lap with the other, Caroline lifts a slat of her blinds with the binoculars. \"Mark, have you finished locking all the doors and windows?\" she whispers loudly into the dark.\n\nSmacking its hand on a tree several yards in front of the window, a corpse removes an apple from the branch, licks its unearthly red skin, then, with far too much forse, bites through it with a loud crunch. Suddenly, it begins screaming as the juices seep into its mouth from the hunk it broke off. Falling immediately to the ground, it scratches at its own throat, the wheezing noise becoming stronger and stronger. As it flails about, dead skin slides off, revealing raw looking, pink skin. The nails of its hand fall, regrowing quickly into ones that would rival Caroline's in healthiness, at least from what she can see with the binoculars. With its pink hands, it rubs at its head and face, large strips of the necrotic flesh falling away, and a peach fuzz appearing on the head of what could only be described as a Goddess.\n\nThe beauty of this creature that had just been a living corpse causes Caroline to suck in a breath, watching with morbid fascination, she adjusts the binoculars to be able to see the young woman better.\n\nNails scratching tiny flakes of skin off, the resurrected woman stands. Removing the shreds of clothes still covering her, some of the dead flesh rips off with it. Spitting, a wad of something that Caroline hopes to never identify comes flying out.\n\nWith a look of confusion, the nude woman runs her hands over her body, checking every curve for the barest hint of death. Without warning, she becomes violently ill, bones and semi-rotted meat coming out in the bloody bile. With a shaking hand, she picks up the apple with a large bite mark, turns it, and bites one more chunk out, chewing delicately and swallowing it.\n\nA tickle ghosts her back, and she reaches behind her, feeling long hair. With a look of wonder, she eats the apple as though it were the food of the Gods.\n\nBreaking his silence, Mark turns his head to his wife of 20 years. \"Caroline, please tell me I haven't lost it yet. I swear, that apple just turned a Zombie into a babe---\" At the look he gets, Mark quickly changes his word choice. \"Into a baby pink woman. You know, rosy like a baby.\"\nTurning back to him, Caroline laughs. \"I guess they truly are Ambrosia apples.\""
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[WP] We all know of the Grammar Nazis. Let's hear about the Pun Police.
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"\"ON THE GROUND!\" Officer Ramirez bellowed, his fingers tightly clasped around the grip of his glock The perp raised his hands, his eyes widening in surprise. He went down to his knees, dropping his ice cream cone. \n\n\"Whoa, dude, don't do it! I didn't mean nothin'! I just said, 'Ice to meet you'-\" \n\n\"CAN IT, DIRT BAG!\" I screamed at him, trying to get him to stop those terrible words. Both of us had left our ear plugs at the station, leaving us completely vulnerable to this bastards 'jokes'. If we didn't get the muzzle on him soon, we could have a dire situation on our hands. This was a kids place, for chrissakes.\n\nRamirez stepped forward, making sure to keep his left ear toward the creep. He was half deaf in it, which gave him at least some protection. \n\n\"Lie down! DOWN! On your face!\" I could see my partners hands shaking slightly as he approached the guy. Jesus, I didn't think he could've hit the guy worth a damn, even from that range. \"Hands behind your head! AND GET DOWN!\"\n\nThe perps hands went up behind his head, and I began to move forward, leaving the minimal safety the whirring freezer had provided. As I did, the perps face changed to an all to familiar half-smirk. I realized too late that Ramirez was in the way of any shot I had, and the smirk expanded as the creep spoke.\n\n\"Ok, officer, just chil-\" \n\nThe shots echoed throughout the room as Ramirez emptied his glock into the sadistic bastard, and one of the shop employees screamed from whatever they had hidden behind. It was all over in an instant. The perps head was barely they, most of it resembling the strawberry ice cream he had so recently eaten. \n\nRamirez's hands continued to shake as the gun in his hand smoked. Tears fell fell from his face, and he leaned over onto the table next to him to keep from going ass over tea-kettle. I saw him struggling not to vomit, and came to put a hand on his shoulder. We looked at the carnage, and listened as the back up we had radioed for approached, all too late. Finally, my partner opened his mouth.\n\n\"Twelve years on the force,\" He rasped, \"twelve years without firing a single shot. And the first time I do it, it's because some dipshit couldn't keep his trap shut.\" His hand ran through his hair, still shaking like it was being blown by the wind.\n\n\"You did what you had to do.\" I said, trying to keep him from going too far off the deep end. \"There were civvies. He made a wrong move, you made a tough call. In the end, the only person hurt was that son of a bitch.\" I looked at said son of a bitch, his hands still twitching. \n\n\"No. No Jack, you don't get it. It weren't you that plugged him. That wasn't justice. That was murder. Immoral, illegal, cold-blooded, mur...\" his voice trailed off as he realized what he had just said. His mouth hung open, his eyes filling with alarm. They rolled towards me, even as I moved back. I him pulling his gun up, and I brought up mine. We both aimed at the same thing: his head.\n\n\"Ramirez, don't! We can get you help! The boys in the humor-difier can get you cleaned up in no time! We can-\" \n\n\"No, Jack,\" he said, the finger on the trigger tightening, \"there's no help for this.\" \n\nThe shot rang out. Ramirez hit the floor. The employees had already run out, and I heard our reinforcements shout out in alarm. Somewhere, I heard a child, crying. And me?\n\nIce creamed.\n\n\n\n",
"\"Is it updog?\" Arin asked, a mild grin on his face.\n\n\nDanny answered his question with a question of his own. \"What the fuck are you talking about?\"\n\n\n\"Dude, it's updog.\"\n\n\n\"What is updog?\"\n\n\nAt that exact moment, not only did Arin grin so wide and laugh so hard he actually split his body in half, Danny noticed a quiet siren in the background, much quieter than the catchy music of the game he was playing or the howling of Arin's splintered voice box.\n\n\nThen the siren grew louder.\n\n\nAnd louder. \n\n\nAnd louder.\n\n\nDanny, perplexed by this noise, left the heaving and split corpse of Arin (still laughing) in the room and left the studio to see what all the commotion was about, to find a group of people coming in over the horizon.\n\n\nTheir images grew slowly.\n\n\nIn fact, very slowly.\n\n\nDanny managed to bury the still writhing corpse of his friend before they arrived.\n\n\nOnce they did, Danny noticed what these people truly were: policemen. \n\n\nDressed from head to toe in blue hats, overcoats, undercoats, waistcoats, socks, trousers, shoes and masks, the platoon of blue policemen each held a blue rifle in their hands.\n\n\nWhen they realised Danny had buried Arin, they pointed their guns at him.\n\n\n***\"DANIEL Y. SEXBANG, INTERNET CELEBRITY EXTRAORDINAIRE, SURRENDER THE REMAINS OF ARIN HANSON OR BE EXCECUTED BY THE PUN POLICE.\"***\n\n\nDanny began to shake his head, which was promptly filled with holes and lead by the pun police.\n\n\nAnd that, my friends, was the first recorded sighting of the pun police. After that, they took over the world and now soundly *pun*ish any man, woman or child who dare make a -\n\n\nOH GOD, THEY'RE HERE-\n\n\nAGHH, I DIDN'T MEAN IT-\n\n\nPLEASE DON'T HURT ME-\n\n\nPLEASE-\n\n\nNO-\n\n\n*This recording was made by Ross O'Donovan, shortly before the pun police killed him*",
"The room was small, sterile and furnished only with a chair, a table and a dim desk lamp. One officer was leaning against the wall, while the other strolled around calmly, both staring at the man, who sat there with the hands on his head.\n\n- \"One of your neighbors reported that you are not doing your daily order of puns, Mr. Kowalski...\" - accused one of the uniformed men.\n\n- \"What? Who did...?\"\n\n- \"That does not matter. It was established after The Great Purge in order to uplift the country's spirit. Your actions are being counterrevolutionary and we might have to take some *punitive* measures.\"\n\n- \"This is whole system is ridiculous! And your jokes aren't even good!\"\n\n- \"Silence! The Party does not take uncompliance lightly\" - said the officer visibly angry.\n\n- \"Consider this a warning; we are keeping a *spy* on you\" - continued the other - \"You may go now\".\n\nThe man stood up, looked both of them and went out. After a few minutes of walking, he finally reached home. His wife was waiting there for him with the door open.\n\n- \"Where were you? I was worried!\" - she said.\n\nThe man looked around for a moment suspiciously, seeing a small car parked far away pointing his way, which looked like it had two human figures inside. He rolled his eyes and sighed.\n\n- \"Let's just say I was resisting *a rest*...\"\n\n"
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Just a weird dream I had :)
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[WP] Everyone in the world suddenly wakes up blind, for some reason you do not.
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"A little over 6 months ago, there was a loud bang and a blinding light seen across the world. Many, I'd even say most, people went outside to investigate. Then, the dust started to settle. The entire world was covered in a white powder that hissed when in contact with water. It floats, and is easily inhaled.\n\nI was the only one who fled the light quickly enough to never breathe the dust. An airtight room in my basement is filled with enough supplies to keep me safe, healthy, fed, and free of that toxin until I turn 500. It took two days before the reports started. Across the world, everyone alive was becoming blind. The optic nerves and retinas were just withering away. For some, it advanced while they slept, and they woke up blind. Those who didn't... If the news is to be trusted, and I don't put much stock into them, then the ones who went blind the fastest were the luckiest.\n\nReports of visions, of people doing awful things to themselves, of grotesque creatures, of monsters and the things that go bump in the night were seen in the static replacing the normal vision of those unlucky souls.\n\nThose who had already been blind canvased the globe. American Blind people introduced the National Federation and American Council of the Blind, and took over gyms and other large, open areas to create refugee camps for those poorly coping. Every Thursday, they train people in cane use and orienting themselves. This is the hardest, and you can hear the chorus of sobbing for miles. On Tuesday, they teach life skills, like cooking, maintenance, sewing, and repairs. Saturdays are devoted to assistive technology and Braille, and special lessons are set up on off days, for specific skills or extra hands-on training.\n\nI stroll the streets, now devoid of that retched dust, but I do not remove my face mask, as it only takes a minute exposure to start the effects. I use a cane just to blend in, although little do they know, I am the last person on this planet who can see.\n\nI lead excursions to the beach for my area, claiming my hearing is just especially acute. I removed all the stock from the shelves of food stores and from restaurant freezers, and helped them label each item.\n\nI've even taken to using the internet and researching how to do every kind of task, from archery to butchery to weaving. I have taught many my skills, using only their hands.\n\nBaskets are woven by hand again, and clothes are repurposed or repaired when ripped. Fashion has almost entirely died off, in exchange for more practical clothes. I feel so much pride when I see my students teach each other.\n\nThen I go home, kiss my wife, and hug my daughter, feeling like a fraud.\n\nI go to sleep every night praying that they never find out that I completely forgot about them and it took hours before I remembered.\n\nI especially hope that they never find out that I stayed put during the spread, and didn't even consider going out to get them.\n\nFor all they know, I had twisted my ankle falling down the stairs into the wine cellar, and I will die before they know any different."
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[WP] An obnoxious rich man and a grumpy homeless man need to help each other in order to escape an island they're both stranded in.
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"\"The lizard's seen you. The tail's giving it away. I'd advise you to hurry up and take the shot,\" Arthur took a few sips of the wine bottle into his dry mouth. The cork had gone missing just moments prior.\n\n\"Fuck off, I know that,\" Virtanen stared down the rifle, \"Keep your head down, already. That's the reason why he saw us in the first place.\"\n\nThe well-dressed rich man let out a loud belch and wiped his wet lips with a handkerchief from his suit pockets. A bit of rustling came from the bush that the two men were hiding in.\n\nThis drew the lizard's attention even moreso than the fact that it had already seen Arthur standing in the middle of the bush.\n\n\"Well, whether or not I put my head down doesn't really matter at this point. The lizard saw us, ergo, my head above the bushes isn't going to make him suddenly not see us.\"\n\n\"Jesus, will you shut the hell up?\"\n\nThe lizard in the two men's sight let out a loud scream. The bushes nearby began rustling as reptilic tails stood at attention from every other bush in the vicinity.\n\nVirtanen swore loudly. Arthur decided that it was about time for a smoke and took his zippo lighter from his pocket along with a large, thick cigar. Virtanen loaned him a knife to make the cut. His partner took his time lighting the damn stupid thing before taking a long drag with it like the bastard he was.\n\n\"Are you serious right now?\"\n\n\"I smoke when I'm nervous.\"\n\n\"I really hope these lizards eat you first.\"\n\nArthur looked from Virtanen to the swarm of angry, angry lizards charging at them at that very moment. He shrugged his shoulders and offered the cigar to Virtanen. Arthur, using his years upon years of secondary education, analyzed the scene with all of his soon-to-be-dying might.\n\nHe gestured to Virtanen to hand over his rifle. The two traded. A cigar for a rifle.\n\n\"I think I know how to get out of this alive,\" Arthur said as Virtanen took his turn with the cigar.\n\n\"How's that?\"\n\n\"I just have to outrun you.\"\n\n---------------------------------\n\nThirty dead lizards later, the two men were brawling at the beachside of the deserted island. Arthur had run out of ammo in the preceding struggle against the lizards. Virtanen, knowing this, had tossed the rifle and the knife aside so that the two men could beat each other senseless as God had rightfully intended.\n\n\"I could've died!\" Virtanen threw a right hook at the rich man's face. Arthur realed back on impact, then pushed himself against the man in the rags.\n\n\"Could've!\" Arthur pushed the hard of his forehead against his opponent's jaw. Virtanen spat up a small mess of yellow teeth and brown blood before returning to the rumble.\n\nAt about eight or so, whenver the moon starts shining, the two men took a break from trying to murder each other in order to prepare supper. There was a lot of lizard soup to be had that night. They'd have to last for many nights too, if the two were to ever get their just deserts against each other and get the hell off the island.\n\n\n"
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[WP] You have just become humanity's first ever Minister of Extra-Universal Affairs.
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"I wish it didn't have to be you, Shelly said. She was hugging me as tight as the day I was elected. We both knew my election wasn't a good thing, not in my wildest dream did I think I would even be alive now.\n\nIt's been 2 years since they came to earth, at first peaceful and friendly even. They were little creatures, red skinned, like the planet they came from. and the everlasting smiles, you couldn't stay mad at these guys even if you wanted to.\n\nYou'd think language would be a problem, I guess it isn't if you can scan literature and make the language your own within about 2 hours. Terrifyingly useful though. It made my job a lot easier. Minister of extra-universal affairs, it still sounds fancy.\n\n2 years since I first stepped foot in their vessel, god the horror. They literally had a living vessel, they created it. It wasn't born, but it felt and was obedient. It let out a small squeak as it wasn't used to my weight. I was 3 times heavier than any of the martians. Me, Jake schreve, the first human to enter \"the beast\", the size of a mountain, floating in the air.\n\nNow 2 years later and the martians copied more of our habits than we wanted. The constant struggles in the world had an impact on them nobody had taken into account. Adapting to our planet they grew, the red skin was turning blue and green. But they didn't just take over the colours of the planet. They made human nature their own.\n\nAnd if anybody ever thought human nature was good and pure, we sure as hell aren't anymore. The wars in the world made them aggressive. The everlasting smile never went away though. Lips on eachother, smiling, until it was dinner time. \n\nThey had adapted to the world, it was time to truly make it theirs. They weren't martians, mars was just a stop for them, adapting, preparing their vessel. The beast was once just a machine. But every planet they have been they took souvenirs to make the beast more lifelike. \n\nJust as I was elected as minister, they elected worlds, come in with their smiles and friendly, helpful nature. But they feed off the planet, sucking it dry, sucking he population dry. And we didn't know until it was to late. We were being harvested.\n\nAs Shelly let go we were both in tears. I had only one job, negotiate a peaceful way out for humanity. I was chosen as minister and now had to make sure we were not the next addition to the beast.\n\nAs I stepped into the belly, the squeak happened again. Now wondering if it maybe was a Martian or a different race I don't even know. The beast and it's skin were alive. And knowing how it is fueled I knew what I was going to have to sacrifice in order to survive.\n\nWalking up to the ''martians\" only one question was floating in my head. How many billion humans does the beast need in order to move on.....\n\n\n------------\n\nANY feedback is welcome",
"\"I remember my first car, a 1992 Volkswagen golf. Bought it for 675 dollars off some addict (Meth? Heroine? Who knows?) outside of Norfolk. It had cigarette burns on the back seat, smelled like more than a few people had gotten sick in it over the years. It got me from point A to B, mostly. The exception being, o'course, the first and last times I drove it.\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\" R. C. looked up from the console, puzzled.\n\n\"I mean, same with anyone's car ya know. When you buy it somebody's gotta get ya there, like take a bus or something, yeah?\"\n\n\"Sure, sure.\"\n\n\"And the last time you drive it... well, you've probably broken down or somethin' and uh, yeah, someone's gotta help you again.\" I tried to get comfortable in my seat. It didn't work. \n\nR. C. looked back down at the console, flipped one of the many unlabeled switches and out the windshield. \"Guess you're right. Never really thought about it that way, though. Mine was a beat up Taurus. It was beige.\" He let out and audible sigh and relaxed himself in his chair, content with the current position and color of the numberless dials and nobs. \"Hated that car. But nothing compares to old Charlotte, here. Eh, girl?\" He patted the top of the console, and a sizable amount of dust was forced into the air. \n\nThe cabin was rather dingy. None of the governments luxury flagships had the fuel capacity to make it out this far from Earth. Only an asteroid freighter without any space rocks in tow would do the trick, and R. C. was the freighter pilot this side of Andromeda. The lifespan of a pilot, by statistic, was roughly 23.7 years. Same went for their ships. Better than the poor bastards who had to tether the things down, though. Wranglers, they called them. R. C. was an outlier, however. I still don't remember all the embarrassing things I did at his 39th birthday party. \n\nI took the cigarette case out of my inside jacket pocket and lit one, taking a look out of the window myself. It was hard to look at. Like someone smashed a crystal chandelier and pointed a spot light at it. You got nervous just looking at it, then you remembered you were going to fly through it. The Verge, that's what they called it. That wasn't the technical term for it, no. Slang the media came up with. Apparently it rolled off the tongue better than a Something-Quantum-Interspacial-Multiverse-Anomaly, or whatever the scientists called it.\n\n\"You nervous about the crossing, there, sir?\"\n\n\"R. C., I've known you 20 years, you don't have to call me sir.\"\n\n\"Well, uh, Arnold. You know you've got a pretty important job now. Seemed right to give you the respect ya deserve.\" He shot me a worried look. \"Ya know the counsel'd have my head if they knew I was lettin' you smoke in here.\"\n\n\"Sorry about that. Space travel is kind of unsettling, I guess.\" I took a final puff and dropped it into the last remnants of a water bottle. It made a satisfying hiss.\n\nThe ship shuddered. I was beginning to feel more uneasy than normal. Something unsettling about the whole ordeal. First the Verge appears and they come, the Grays, that is. *Probably can't use that word, now that I'm in charge of this show. They may consider it offensive*, I thought. Then the counsel gives me the promotion, er, new position to manage these sorts of affairs. *Isn't bureaucracy incredible. Calm in the face of extra-universal beings; frantic in the face of lost profits.* Sometimes I wished I had stuck with R. C. and finished the pilot course. If only they put labels on the buttons.\n\n\"Why do you still call it a windshield if there's no wind in space?\" I asked, trying to distract myself from the vomit inducing ride through hell that was quickly approaching.\n\n\"I dunno? What else are you going to call it?\" R. C. grabbed the large lever on his right and eased back, a calm vocal recording echoed through the nearly empty cockpit. \"Autopilot disabled. Please advise: Forward anti-matter containment unit depleted. Rear and reserve units operating at 87 and 96 percent respectively.\"\n\nR. C. adjusted his glasses. \"You're going to want to hang onto something.\"\n\nIf you've ever been on an airplane in high turbulence, you had it much better off than a ride through a hole in the fabric of space time. Let's say you're on the bumpy airplane ride BUT you also have the spins from finishing off the last of the 16 mini bottles of Jack Daniels you brought along with you AND you're being stretched to an infinitely large size while simultaneous being crushed into a singularity smaller than a quark. That's what the Verge feels like. The worst part is that you survive to remember the whole experience.\n\nI woke up to the sound of R. C.'s laughter. I rubbed my eyes, \"I passed out again, didn't I?\"\n\n***\n\nGotta take a break for a bit. Sorry I didn't even make it to any of the actual Ministering of Extra-Universal Affairs yet. If anyone cares I'll come back and write more later.\n\n\n"
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[WP] You serve in the army of the greatest necromancer in all the land...and no one has discovered yet that you're not actually undead.
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"I was sleeping at my desk when my class turned undead. I had a terrible smell of sweat, guess that’s why they assumed I was dead. Their growling woke me up they noticed I had awoken and their growling grew louder. They walked slowly towards me and smelled me. They stood me up with their cold hands and made me beat at the closed door. \r\n\nPerhaps I should have left that classroom door closed, after I couldn’t hit the door anymore I pulled the door open and let the mummy's curse free. They walked in a group pushing me with them and took down the school within hours. There was people screaming in pain and confusion all I could do was watch it all and keep walking. \r\n\nTheir numbers multiplied. I walked along with my school watching as all of my city turned undead. I could have stopped this. I am desensitized to the screaming now. I wonder who will kill me the undead or perhaps one of the victims I loot--it would be well deserved. \n",
"When the grey mass of fresh squishy brains spilt from the crack in the skull, I nicked myself with the knife to stifle my scream and redirect it to a squeal of delight. \n\nAround me, the kitchen staff busied themselves, staggering from the freezer room to boiler. One inquisitive colleague turned towards the undecided sounds I had made. Fortunately, his eye sockets were long empty. \n\nI had another problem. I had begun to bleed. This was not apparent in the moment as I was handling fresh meat. With squinting eyes and flared nostrils I finished the delicacy: fresh brain jelly topped with yoghurt and a patch of buttock skin. \n\nWhen my shift was done, I washed my hands and found that the bleeding had ceased. I took a nonchalant stagger down the hallway back to my room. It was then that I exhaled deeply. \n\nTomorrow was another lie. Maybe I should actually die. \n\n---\n\nI wear my fantasy shorts on [Fivens](https://fivenswrite.wordpress.com)",
"*Fuck fuck fuck. Now you've really done it, Melvin.*\n\n*How'd this even happen? I was* **just** *taking the trash out and now I've up and joined* **the** *army of the fucking undead?* **GREAT** \n\n*How do I eve- Oh shit someone's coming -* \n\n\"Hnrrrrr B^R^AI^NS^S^S \"\n\n*They gone? Alright, good. This can't go on forever. I have to go home. I didn't even manage to eat that pizza I was maki - oh fuck is my oven still on? I **really** need to get back home.*\n\n*I'm gonna have to take this to the boss.*\n\n**Enter scene: Evil villian's lair**\n\n\"Excuse me Mr. Graht'tjack, am I pronouncing that right? Sorry, nevermind. Anyways, I have come here to discuss something with you. It fills me with pain and sadness to say that I must leave this great company.\"\n\n\"Oh really, I'd hate to see you go. How about if I offer you a small promotion? Would you consider staying with Evil & son then?\"\n\n\"Uh, what kinda promotion?\"\n\n\"Well, ofcourse you'd still have dental and medical insurance, but you'd also get another dollar an hour and acces to the manager bathrooms.\"\n\n\"uh\"\n\nMaybe this wouldn't be that bad after all\n\n"
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I realize this is toeing the line in terms of the 'no politics' rule, but the prompt isn't really meant to be about their politics, per se, more just the combination of characters and personalities all living together.
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[WP] All the dead Presidents live together in what is essentially an eternal frat house. Tell me about their day.
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"A house divided cannot stand. I had the words embroidered in a frame and placed upon our mantel. I placed it there to remind myself that I can weather any storm. Especially one as trying as this house filled with my brethren Presidents. \nOh Washington's aright. He understands the score and mostly keeps to himself. Van Buren, well, he doesn't do anything really. FDR's a fine chap. A little full of himself but, then again most of us are. \nIt's that Kennedy and Lyndon B. Johnson I worry about the most. Well, them and Warren G. Harding. That guy fucks. I know this because they said it's a term the youth use these day. I also know this because his bedroom is right next to mine. \nLacking of morals, the three of them. Kennedy and Harding bringing any two-bit good-time-gal (A term Roosevelt uses for them.) into the house. \nWe're supposed to stand for something here. \nWe're supposed to be the best stock. \nThe brightest of America. \nJohnson just walks around showing his manhood to everyone. At any moment, just, there it is. It's disgusting. \nI suppose fornication is the least of my worries. Most just want to party. Not talk of our accomplishments. Or have discourse on current political issues. \nI repeat: A house divided cannot stand. And I am trying so hard to keep us together. \n"
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[WP] A character you've killed in your stories has come to your world. They want vengeance.
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"\"How dare you, author-san!\"\n\nI was being lazy, reading one of the romance mangas that I would never publicly reveal to reading, when I heard a voice come from behind me. And I knew it wasn't any of my roommates. And the voice sounded too clear to come from behind my door.\n\nI turn around, worried, when I see something impossible.\n\nA cartoon character. As in, he looked like a semi-grown cartoon character. One I recognized.\n\n\"It was so dishonorable to kill me off-screen, and especially not following up in the story that so many people have read.\"\n\nHe needed a crutch, but with his bushy eyebrows and bowl hair cut, it was obvious to me who it was.\n\n\"What the fuck?\" I meant to say Rock Lee in recognization, but that was also as appropriate. \n\n\"I wish to challenge you to a spar. If I win, I will be resurrected. If I am defeated, I will do one thousand push-ups.\" He told me, seemingly ready to get into his stance.\n\nI'm a fat untrained fighter facing a fucking cartoon character He might still be crippled and almost half my age, but he can also destroy my apartment in 5 seconds flat. This is not going to go well.\n\nI swallow my disbelief and decided to lie like hell to get out of this.\n\n\"You're not dead dead, Rock Lee, I swear. I'm writing a fanfic, you're not gonna stay dead.\"\n\n\"What do you mean, author-san?\" He asked, genuinely confused.\n\n\"Look, you might not like it, but I plan on having Naruto use that Jashin priest he decapitated to resurrect you. You might have to turn evil for a little bit, but it is mainly going to be for laughs. And you will have a happy ending.\" In reality, I plan on keeping Lee dead and using him as a catalyst to ensure the Godaime Naruto goes closer to the side of Danzo to create dramatic tension in the story, and creating a blood feud between Gaara and Neji.\n\nI also realize how much nerd I am speaking and how many people have already left this submission.\n\n\"You are going to make me evil?\" Lee asked, not liking the prospects. It is amazing how easy he is too read.\n\n\"Don't worry, your sensei will use the Power of Youth to save you. And do you know what happens to you in the real story? Not enough. This will be more interesting.\" He narrowed his eyes.\n\n\"Can we not settle this in a spar? It would be all the youth the both of us need.\" He was eager to get moving. \"Who knows, it might urge you to continue the story you have seemed to abandon. Yet again.\" My followers have probably learned not to expect much from me, unfortunately.\n\n\"How much youth could I feel if I have to go to the hospital in ten seconds. You are still a trained fighter, and I'm...well not.\"\n\n\"Then I shall train you! Before we spar, I will train you in the power of youth. I know your schedule, and know you have off for the next few days. We can begin now!\"\n\nI look around my very small room and shake my head. \"We don't have enough room here.\n\n\"No, no, I agree with Lee-kun. I wish for him to train you. I wouldn't mind a challenge.\"\n\nDid I mention I also killed the Third Hokage in a story before?\n\nAnd him hanging from the wall in the corner of your room is creepy as fuck?\n\nThis is not going to end well.\n\nAnd I am really hoping the other characters I killed in my stories don't start coming after me.\n\nTobi, Danzo, Anko...\n\nWhy the fuck did I start writing Naruto fanfiction?",
"Abby was completely done for.\n\nFinally trapped near a non-functioning elevator, the girl in front of her caught her breath enough to scream at her:\n\n\"Why? Actually why? I was a perfectly nice kid! You just had to kill me and not the guy that cracked open my ribs.\"\n\nAbby, tired and feeling like she was about to collapse, tried to explain gently. \"I understand how you feel sweetie. I know you were a good kid, I was the one who wrote you in. But there had to be character development for the main character.\"\n\n\"Oh, so I'm a lesser being, is what you're saying.\"\n\n\"No, I mean, in a book, some people have to be killed off for the sake of others, you know? If it's the perspective of the main character, then in the main character's eyes, everyone else is just a side character. It's not being a lesser being, it's being shown in another person's perspective.\"\n\n\"Then hear me out in my perspective, lady. You thought it was okay to kill someone. You thought it was okay to rip away a well planned, well rounded innocent side character because it would change someone else. This is literally what you call a *sacrifice*, and it's illegal in our times, if you can't believe it.\"\n\nAbby shot back. \"Kiddo, you were literally a story. Like, actually a story. I was trying to be realistic! Then does everyone live a perfect world with rainbows and pink fluffy unicorns? NO! It's a story, something that reflects the good and bad in human society and reality. I mean, look at how many viewers I have on my website!\"\n\n\"You want viewers? Here's how you get viewers.\" \n\nLifting the axe out of her bloody chest, she started swinging at the poor woman. \n\nAbby valiantly fought with all her might, kicking and screaming, and the little girl, too small for the heavy axe, swung with all her energy, trying to kill the terrified writer. But finally brandishing her axe in good lumberjack fashion, she finally placed a well aimed swing into Abby's chest. As the freelance journalist and webcomic creator lay dying, desperately clutching at the girl's clothes, the girl laughed maniacally as she finally becomes the protagonist of the story and--\n\n--\n\nI looked up from my writing prompt, my fingers frozen over the keyboard.\n\nShit. I think I heard an axe at the door.\n\n"
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[WP] You're walking in the woods and suddenly you saw a corpse hanging on one of the tree. There is a letter in the ground saying, "There is something in Park Lawn Cemetery you need to know".
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"You walk to the cemetery. \n\nYou see the family grieving over a seemingly looted grave. \n\nAs you approach closer, you notice it is the fiance of your dead best friend crying.\n\nIt clicks in your head that the body you observed was your best friend.\n\nYou unfold the tri folded letter. It is evidently your own writing.\n\n\"Man, Jerry's wife must be hysterical at this point since we used his body as a pinata.\"\n\nMortified, you noticed there is more text. The events of last night have become clearer. \n\nYou read the text.\n\nYou should run.\"\n\nYou look up. You notice that the family has begun to approach you. \n\nThey are out for blood.\n\nYou begun to run. You find your arm twitching for the pen in your breast pocket."
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[WP] Everyone is born with one magical talent, but very few have Magician-caliber talent. Your talent is the ability to create a spot of color on the wall. After years of bored play with your talent, you discover that maybe minor talents aren't as limited as believed.
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"I flex my fingers, shaking my hands at the wrist. A bead of sweat rolled down the side of my face. I stared at the blank wall across from my bed, focused. I had always been so jealous, always felt like it was so unfair. There were people who could teleport, create fire out of nothing, even the really talented people who could read minds. But not me. No, I could make spots of color appear on the wall. Useless. Or, so I thought. I was ready for another try. I raise my hand at the wall, and the color starts to change. First, a blank white square appears on the wall. Then, small dots of color start to pop up in the square. My hand slightly shake as I try to keep the picture in my mind's eye. Every little detail. The color of his eyes, the shade of his skin, the expression on his face. Everything. The dots of color rippled along the blank wall, morphing and changing into the picture in my head. Finally, it was finished. I gasp and fall back into my bed, panting, sweat running down my face. God, that was hard to do. But it was done. On my wall was a man. Dirty, ratted hair, yellowed eyes that were widened in terror. Every tiny detail, pictured perfectly in the portrait on my wall. I glance to the corner of my room. There, huddled on the floor, bound and gagged, was the same man I just created on my wall, down to every last detail. He was some homeless man that has lived outside my apartment for weeks. And I felt bad, I really did. I just had to try. I concentrate on my picture, raising my hand. New dots appear, red ones this time. They trail across the man's neck in the portrait, coming into finer focus as more and more of them appear. In the corner, I hear the man yelp. He starts to struggle, kicking and screaming into his gag. On the picture, the new colors form a huge, gaping gash on the man's neck, in full, photo realistic detail. The man gargles, thrashing from side to side. I finish my art and lower my hand, turning to watch in rapt awe. The man's throat was slashed open, with blood pouring down the front of his shirt. He rolled around for a few more moments, then slowly stopped. I can't help but smile. I'm not useless, and neither are my talents. I'm an artist. And I can paint anyone's portrait. "
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[WP] The 2 of you are the last man and woman on earth after everyone else vanished. You raise a family together. Then suddenly, time sets back. Your family is missing and your partner is gone, leaving you alone for years until you meet someone who is living this empty world for the 1st time; 1st day
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"\"Shit it's a dude.\"\n\n\"Look man, I'm not too happy about that either.\"\n\n\"Wanna fuck?\"\n\n\"Naw man. I'm not into that.\"\n\n\"Me neither.\"\n\n\"Umm. Okay I guess, dude. Man.\"\n\n\"Umm. Wanna crack open some cold ones?\"\n\n\"Yeah, sure dude.\"\n\nThus began a beautiful bromance.\n\nAnd they spent the rest of their days drifting. Drinking. And eating rather uncomplicated lunches. Dinner was another matter. The years went by, but not too many because Larry got too fucking cocky about his depth perception while drunk driving at the sunset.\n\nDon't be like Larry.\n\nThe End."
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[WP] write from the perspective of an alien crew who just recruited a human Into their ranks. The human has brought along their dog.
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"The small beast belted out another bizarre sound, causing some of us to flinch again. It look from us to the human, sounded it's call, and turned it's pointed face back to us. It's tail waving side to side in a possibly threatening manor. \n\n\"Well he seems to like you guys.\" The human spoke, readjusting the large cloth bag it carried on it's shoulder.\n\n\"How can you tell? My U.T. won't translate what it is saying.\" One of the crew growled, on edge as the rest of us.\n\n\"That's 'cus dogs don't talk, but I understand him good enough.\" The human reassured us, reaching a hand down and lightly striking the animal on the head.\n\n\"Like a Zweil?\" One of our females ask.\n\n\"Naw, not like that, I just get him, a man and his dog kinda thing, body language I guess.\"\n\n\"I don't understand.\" Speaks up our chief medical officer. A few members of our pack mutter like-wise. The 'dog' calls out again, riling up some of the gamma pack members. \n\n\"This creature is not allowed on the ship Human!\" A voice calls out, from the safety of the middle of our mob. More voices ring out in agreement, the tension of the pack is starting to raise. The human takes a step back, and the animal steps in front, and starts growling. This only provokes the Eridani crew more, a cascade of throaty growls rolls across the crowd.\n\nA mob starts to be pushed aside as the largest, black-furred Eridani male forces his way through the crowd. One female hisses as he pushes her; in one swift, remorseless movement, he pulls her arms from under her and pushes her to the ground. The rest of the pack begins parting on their own to allow him passage. He steps forward and adjusts the hat perched on his head.\n\n\"Human.\"\n\n\"Captain.\"\n\n\"What is this animal you have brought on my ship?\" The captain asks, calm but fierce. The human steps forward straddling a leg over the animal.\n\n\"He's my dog, my pet, my companion.\"\n\n\"This is the 'pet dog' from the clause in your contract?\"\n\n\"Yes he is. Did you not know what a pet dog was when we made our agreement?\" The human asked, reaching a hand down to stroke the dog's head.\n\n\"I was not aware. You should have told me it was a living animal.\"\n\n\"I guess we're both at fault then.\"\n\n\"How important to you is this animal?\"\n\n\"If he can't stay, I won't stay.\" The human announces, assuming a resolute stance.\n\n\"Very well, you were hired to be our engineer; you will stay and the animal can stay, however you will work for your share *and* its share.\" The captain demands.\n\n\"Alright, I came to work anyway. So where are we bunking?\"\n\n\"Explain.\"\n\n\"Where are me and my dog sleeping?\"\n\n\"You and your animal will share a room with the D'moksan. Your animal must stay in your room.\"\n\n\"I don't think that'll work, he's a German shorthaired pointer, he's a working dog, real high energy.\" The Eridani captain pauses.\n\n\"What work can the animal do?\"\n\n\"He hunts, points out prey animals.\" The captain pauses to think some more.\n\n\"You'll be allowed to take your animal from your room to the cargo hold.\"\n\n\"As you say Captain.\" The human says, performing the human salute. The captain nods and turns back to the mob that has considerably thinned.\n\n\"Lieutenant, show the Human and his dog to their quarters.\"\n\n\"Aye sir.\"\n_____\n\nI hope you've enjoyed my story. This story is based on the universe I've developed that can be found on my subreddit [/r/ValleyandMe](https://www.reddit.com/r/ValleyandMe/). All future works and prompt inspired stories can be found there.",
"I thought the little meat sack brought the animal along for a meal. I had no idea why it gave the meal a name. \"I'm Bryan,\" the meat sack said, extending its hairless little paw. \"And this is Ferris,\" it said with a nod to the animal.\n\n\"I've never seen a Ferris before,\" I replied, staring warily at the outstretched paw. \"What is it for?\"\n\nThe meat sack laughed. \"No, Ferris is his name,\" it said. \"He's a dog.\"\n\nI stared at both of them. I liked the dog animal, because at least its face had some sort of recognizable expression. *Hungry,* the dog animal's face said. \"What is it for?\" I asked again.\n\nIt shrugged and pushed its blonde fur back along its cranium. \"He's my best friend,\" it said.\n\nIn my society, the word for \"best friend\" is the same as the word for \"sex partner,\" because these two concepts are indistinguishable. I contemplated this for a moment. \"Is it a good best friend?\" I asked.\n\nThe meat sack moved its little head up and down. \"The best,\" it said.\n\n---\n\nI was brushing my tail when Tarlin and Orvil came to the mess hall. \"That little pink doll-thing has a little black animal-thing,\" Tarlin said. \"They walk around like they're married.\"\n\n\"I'm pretty sure they are,\" I replied. \"The pink thing is named Bryan, and the little animal-thing is named Ferris and is a species known as 'dog animal.' Bryan said that they were best friends.\"\n\n\"Oh,\" the both said, looking at each other knowingly.\n\nOrvil plopped down at the table and took out her tail brush. \"Well, I think that's very progressive of them,\" she said in an encouraging tone. \"The galaxy needs more interspecies partners.\"\n\nTarlin wrapped a tentacle around a bottle of water and gingerly lifted it to his mouth. \"It never ends well,\" he said with a gulp. \"Remember --\"\n\n\"Acron and Dacron,\" Orvil interjected. \"Yes, of course.\"\n\n\"Acron didn't understand Dacron,\" Tarlin continued in his know-it-all way. \"Didn't understand Dacron's temper. And that's how Acron lost a hand.\"\n\n\"It's true,\" I said. \"Now he only has the three hands.\"\n\nOrvil shrugged, running the wire brush along her scaly tail, digging the tines into the deep nooks. \"I think we should respect their choice. After all, love is rare in this particular sector.\"\n\nTarlin took another gulp of water. \"I want to eat it,\" he said.\n\n\"The dog animal?\" I asked.\n\n\"The Bryan doll,\" he replied. \"And the dog animal. They both look tasty.\"\n\nI shook my head. \"Listen, that Bryan has a wealth of knowledge about terrestrial mining. And we, may I remind you, have spent most of our time in and around gas giants. So we need the meat sack.\"\n\nTarlin looked at me and then at Orvil, who glared quietly. \"Sure,\" he said finally, \"okay, no eating the pink doll. At least for now.\"\n\n\"Tarlin!\" Orvil said, setting down her brush. \"The Bryan has as much right to be here as we do. And you're not planning on eating *us*, are you?\"\n\nHe looked us over. \"No,\" he said, \"because you'd put up a fight. The little doll is defenseless - no tail, no claws, that little soft skull full of juicy brains.\"\n\n\"Mmm,\" Orvil said. \"Brains.\"\n\n\"That's enough,\" I said, putting my brush away. \"Everyone get some rest. And leave that little Bryan alone.\"\n\n---\n\nI woke in my quarters to the sound of some strange animal gnashing, followed by the unmistakeable sound of Tarlin howling in pain. I leapt from my pod and grabbed my whip - it was likely Orvil harrassing Tarlin again. I gasped in shock as I entered the hallway - Tarlin limped towards me, his face bloodied, part of a tentacle missing. \"The Ferris,\" he said breathlessly. \"The Ferris!\"\n\n\"What happened?\" Orvil said with alarm as she entered the corridor. \n\nThe meat sack came out of its quarters with the dog animal. *Hungry,* the dog animal's face said, even though its snout was covered in blood. The meat sack was carrying a weapon we didn't recognize, though I would later learn that it was called a *shotgun* and its effects were terrible. \"This how you treat guests?\" the meat sack growled.\n\nWe all threw up our hands and claws and tails and tentacles. Orvil was visibly shaking. Tarlin clutched the stump of his tentacle, his voice woozy and apologetic. \"They're so small,\" he said. \"I didn't think --\"\n\nThe meat sack aimed the weapon at his head. \"Come into my quarters,\" it growled, \"and you'll never think again.\"\n\nOrvil let out a gentle, whimpering cry. \"It's so mean,\" she said.\n\n\"*So* mean,\" Tarlin said.\n\n\"And the little dog animal!\" Orvil said. \"*Not cute at all.*\"\n\n\"Okay, okay,\" I said reassuringly, taking Tarlin by a shoulder. \"Everyone return to your quarters. I'll patch Tarlin up, and in the morning we'll discuss the reconciliation.\"\n\nThe meat sack gripped its weapon warily. \"The reconciliation?\" it said. \"What's that?\"\n\n\"Well, in our society, when you wrong someone, you become their new ... what's the term? Oh yes, 'best friend.'\"\n\nThe meat sack stared silently. *Hungry,* said the dog animal's face. \"So Tarlin and I are supposed to be friends now?\"\n\n\"Oh no,\" I replied. \"Tarlin and Ferris. I'm sure they will be happy together.\"\n\n\"Oh boy,\" Orvil said, shaking her head slowly as Tarlin looked on in mute horror.\n\n\n---\n\n^r/AudibleGrin\n",
"Waigo looked up from his clipboard. ‘Zay-one, you were given free choice of human, but we did require only a single specimen, why have you brought us two?’\n\n‘Lord Waigo, may I humbly submit that this is a single human’ Zay-one bowed and tried to ignore the golden lab pulling at his robe.\n\n‘Zay-one, I can count. There are definitely two heads and six feet, and according to the species profile library that does not add up to one human’.\n\n‘Indeed my lord. I carefully selected from the best of humans, who I understand are accompanied by these creatures that they worship, and from which they cannot be separated. I believe the companion is known as a ‘good boy’’.\n\nAt this Goldie immediately sat and panted happily at Zay-one.. waiting. Zay-one stared with his forwards facing eye for a little while before switching back to the rear eye to observe the human. Mike swallowed nervously and once again dug his finger nails into his skin, trying to wake himself up.\n\n‘Woof’. All eyes turned back to the good boy, who raised a paw, hopefully.\n\n‘I do not understand his speech’ said Lord Waigo. ‘Human - translate’.\n\n‘W-well’ Mike stammered, ‘I think he expects a treat’. Zay-one emitted a puff of purple smoke from his left nose as he strained to access the relevant memory files from his Intro. to humans course. To be frank, he had never expected to be the first one selected so hadn’t paid full attention in most of his classes.\n\n‘A treat..’ he said slowly ‘The good boy wants a treat..’ Zay-one played for time as he tried to find the correct file. \n\n‘Woof’ responded Goldie, now super-hopeful, but also a little frustrated at the delay. He did his most careful lie down and roll over move and sat back up, tail wagging.\n\nLord Waigo watched, saying nothing. Eventually Zay-one asked Mike to explain further.\n\n‘Well’ said Mike, ‘we usually give him rawhide’. Zay-one nodded and another puff of purple escaped. He definitely had no notes on rawhide. ‘It’s kind of a piece of dried cow’. \n\nZay-one looked shocked. ‘Why?’ was all he could manage. \n\n‘Err, he likes it’.\n\nZay-one had finally found some relevant notes in his memory bank and tried to recover the situation. ‘I understand, human, that the good boy provides hand-shakes and in return you provide scratches, treats and walks – is..’. Goldie had jumped up and was bouncing around in a circle. His tail knocked the ceremonial wand from its plinth and the thrilled dog picked it up and ran to Zay-one, dropping the wand at his feet and barking delightedly.\n\n‘Enough!!’ Lord Waigo clapped his hands together. ‘Thank you Zay-one, please send them back’. He nodded at his secretary. ‘I think we need to review the guidelines for the practical exam’. \n"
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[WP] Whenever someone goes to Starbucks they get a random name on their coffee, this becomes their legal name. Nobody seems to be bothered, you are sick of it.
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"It started out a good idea. Maybe. Some college students had gotten together to protest SSN being used as personal identification numbers for Americans and every independent coffee shop in the nation jumped on board. First the idea was to... overwhelm already overworked interns, or the IRS or something. Loan debt forgiveness, take down the credit score industry, whatever it was Joe didn't really care. He didn't have college debts and he refused to pay any more hospital bills.\n\nPeople respected the beard, the pickup truck, and his unwillingness to engage in small talk. Out of a sort of respect, he had remained Joe Black for six months. Today was different, though. A new face at his usual stand had appeared in the window, the bright eyed and idealistic type. Joe took this new information in with a traditional stoic front and left his truck running so she would close the window.\n\nThe barista acquiesced to the silent demand, and Joe only wavered for a short second when she handed the drink to him with a genuine smile. He refused to play her game and handed exact change and the customary tip before driving off.\n\nHe had fully enjoyed his morning vice by the time he arrived to work and tossed the cup in a bin next to the time clock as he punched in. With a rare second thought, he paused and reached down to retrieve it. Turning it and through squinting eyes he read quite clearly 'FOG'. With a silent chuckle, Fuckin Old Guy tossed the debris and walked to the shop with, if anyone asked, definitely not a smile. ",
"Another day at the office, and another coffee run. Candlestick had ordered the same thing she always gets. Double mocha latte with a shot of strawberry. Odd, but that was her, I guess. KhangoThreeDragon chose an iced coffee, small. The little guy has had it rough with the names recently and it really had taken a toll on his energy. As for me, I think a Machiatto sounds good. I pull up to the drive-thru window and bang out the orders. \"Thank you your total is $12.73 please pull forward to the first window.\" Great. My wife, HaqnhaButTheQisSilent texts me and asks what I want for dinner. Honestly, I don't know. It only takes a couple moments before the drinks are ready. I hand the cashier my credit card, being polite and charming as possible. It's bullshit. She hands it back, along with the drink carrier. One double mocha latte for..... Gerhart_34. Jesus Christ. An iced coffee for.... Jim. Whew, that's a relief. And one macchiato for.... **UglyFuckMan**?!?!?!? And that's why I drove my Subaru Outback through a Starbucks."
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[WP] Where were you when the ship crashed?
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"Where were you when the ship crashed?\n\nWhere were you when we cried over our lives and cried over our deaths?\n\nWhere were you when we realized that we were stuck in a place far from human civilization?\n\nWhere were you when we tried to explore the surroundings and found death all around us?\n\nWhere were you when we bickered between each other because we started to get hungry?\n\nWhere were you when we finally stumbled upon a mysterious village that offered to help us?\n\nWhere were you when we got friendly - maybe too friendly - with the natives?\n\nWhere were you when we started to notice that we were dwindling in number and disappearing one by one?\n\nWhere were you when we discovered that we were being offered as sacrifices to their gods?\n\nWhere were you when we were getting hunted by the natives that ate the sacrifices to their gods?\n\nWhere were you when I was the last person left alive?\n\nWhere were you on the day they finally found me?\n\nWhere were you when they brought me back to their home and gave me special treatment?\n\nWhere were you when they tied me up then dressed me in their best cloths?\n\nWhere were you when they laid me down in the middle of the village in the hot noon sun?\n\nWhere were you when they approached me with their eyes flashing with malice and saliva dripping from their mouths?\n\nWhere were you when I closed my eyes while crying and hoped they would stop coming?\n\nWhere were you when the first sharp knife pierced my skin?\n\nWhere were you when my consciousness started to fade away...\n\nWhere... where were you all this time?",
"\"Where were you when The Ship crashed Mr. Wallace?\" \n\nThere are moments in time so stunning they are imprinted on the minds of all who lived during them. December 7th 1941, September 11 2001. Our moment was 2:31 pm GMT on May 31 2087, the day The Ship crashed. Sadly, there are few people left to ask nowadays.\n\n\"I was on a buissnes trip to Bejing. The taxi driver was speeding, trying to earn the $100 tip i promised if he could get me to the airport on time.\" \n\n\"You were running late? From what i'v heard, it is very unlike you to be late for anything.\"\n\nMr. Wallace chuckles softly, \" I suppose being honest doesn't matter anymore, no matter how bad the truth may be. I was fucking my Asian mistress one last time before going back to my horrid wife, God rest her soul.\"\n\n\"I see. So you obviously missed the flight, otherwise we would not be talking right now\"\n\n\"Correct. This little girl ran out into the street chasing lord knows what. Doesn't matter, if she didn't die on impact she would be dead now anyway. She saved my life i suppose, and I inadvertently gave her a quicker death than was eventually coming.\" \n\nA klaxton echo's through the bunker, signaling the oxygen levels have fallen another 10% a voice speaking in Mandarin over the load speaker most likely announcing the falling O2 levels.\n\n\"I think we are running out of time Mr. Wallace...\"\nBreathing was becoming difficult.\" \n\n\"Yes, I think you are correct. You think this recording will ever be found?\"\n\n*Cough \"Perhaps.\"\n\n\"Well, for posterity then. God i wish we had some whiskey, hell, id even try some of that China White heroin i'v heard about. On May 31st 2087 a ship from somewhere in the cosmos came streaking down from the sky. People said it looked like a asteroid burning up in the sky, but instead of going down it pulled up and stabilize, flying west over the United States spewing a green cloud and flaming debris. It finally crashed somewhere in South Da... ssa.. shit... sssome kinda plague... spread like wildfire... \"\n\nThe klaxton and the voice in Mandarin echos again. The clock of humanitys extinction striking another minute closer\n\n\"Unbelievable swiftness, scientists completely baffeled..\"\n\n\"Ma... mr walla.. ss time..\" \n\nTwo guns point at two temples, two fingers pull two triggers. Two shots echo in the small room. Only heard by the small tape recorded clatering to the floor.\n\n\nI have not taken an english class since highschool 12 yrs ago and have never written anything for the public.. be gentle, its my first time...\n\n",
"\"Where we're you when the ship crashed?\" I asked.\n\n\"I was on the ship, inside of it actually,\" Anri Raho replied to the man.\n\n\"Do you know what happened?\" I was beginning to become suspicious \n\n\"Something opened fire from below the surface. It rattled the ship and caused us to crash. It came aboard through the floor and began killing people. It changed its shape and apprearence, thank God I made it out alive,\" her voice was dull, as if she barely remembered the event that had taken place only a week ago\n\nI checked the list of employees on the ship and the woman's identification. There was only one problem. Anri Raho was buried three months ago, almost a full fortnight before the ship set sail.",
"Captain, oh Captain, where did you go? Into the lifeboats, and away you did row. \n \nCaptain, oh captain, why did you flee? Your job was to save us, it was your responsibility. \n \nCaptain, oh captain, when we survived, did you think your crew would forget, just get on with our lives? \n \nCaptain, oh captain, this is why you swing; your cowardice has led to your hanging. \n \nCaptain, oh captain, to struggle you can try. But today you are sentenced, to hang till you die. \n \nCaptain, oh captain, to Judgement you go. And I hope they sentence you to Old Nick down below.",
"\"Where were you when the ship crashed?\"\n\n\"Sleeping\"\n\n\"Alone?\"\n\n\"No, um, I was with my husband. My daughter was in the room next to ours\"\n\n\"Can you describe what you saw for us? Strange lights, noises, anything at all\"\n\n\"No, nothing like that. I just...\"\n\n\"Yes?\"\n\n\"I just woke up in the middle of the night, and I had this song stuck in my head. A lullaby. One my mother used to sing to me when I couldn't fall asleep\"\n\n\"May I ask what it was about?\"\n\n\"Well, it was terrible song really, about a mother who had to kill her child. I don't know why I found it so... comforting\"\n\n\"Sir, do you know where your husband is?\"\n\n\"...\"\n\n\"Sir?\"\n\n\"No. No I don't\"\n\n\"And your daughter?\"\n\n\"I'm not talking about this anymore\"\n\n\"Please sir, we need to know where they are. We know there wasn't any crash, so just tell us where they are\"\n\n\"I'm telling I don't know, that's the truth\"\n\n\"Mr. Carnel, you need to cut the bullshit\"\n\n\"Excuse me?\"\n\n\"You lied about the ships crashing, so where are your husband and daughter?\"\n\n\"...\"\n\n\"Answer the question or I will place you under arrest for obstruction of justice and first degree murder.\"\n\n\"... I never told anyone there was more than one ship\"\n"
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[WP] Your child just reached another milestone: the first molar tooth. The next night, as you're brushing their teeth, you suddenly realize that the molar isn't there. After looking at your child a bit more, you notice that their hair is slightly shorter.
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"Sarah's baby was growing her first molar tooth. Sarah almost wanted to tell the doctors, \"I told you so.\" They had predicted that the child wouldn't live past three months, yet her daughter Ava was already starting to look like herself, the mom. She lifted the baby from the carpet and hugged. Her legs dangled and body sloped so Sarah quickly placed her back down. She was getting heavy and outgrowing her cloths. Sarah decided to use the day to get her some new onesies. \n\nThe doctors called her the next morning. A research scientist wanted to know more about her child's extraordinary condition. How was the child doing? Was she in good health? What was her diet? Sarah was delighted by the attention. She politely answered the scientist's entire questionnaire: Ava was doing very well, her health was just fine, she was sucking breast milk and starting to eat more of Gerbers applesauce. The doctor said that he was pleasently surprized and happy. He wanted to see her and the baby as soon as possible. They set an appointment for next week. \n\nLate that night the baby started crying. Sarah got up to change the diaper-- the diaper didn't need changed. It was dry. Sarah pulled up her shirt, but Ava didn't want to suck. The baby looked away from the nipple. Sometimes babie's gums hurt when they have incoming molars. Sarah tried to feel them with her finger but couldn't make them out. Perhaps she would wait till morning.\n\nRays shown through the window blinds. Enough light for Sarah to re-examine her babies tooth without turning on home lights. Nothing. God, was she dreaming? She thought that for sure they would have at least stuck further out. To the contrary, the gums appeared to have newly enclosed the tooth. Maybe that's why the baby kept crying. How odd.\n\nOn the dressing counter, Sarah took from Walmart sacks the new cloths that she had bought. She could have sworn that she had picked out the right size. Unfortunately, the onesy fell loose over Ava. Oh well, she would continue to use the old ones. They seemed to fit okay now anyways. \n\nA couple of days past. Ava cried more often. She threw her toys and almost stopped using them entirely. Sarah even noticed that the babie's hair became more spaced out-- single yellow strands replacing browner tuffs. Sarah was upset at the sudden loss of health and odd hair patterns. She scolded the baby, ordering it to be well. Once at the kitchen she yelled, \"Ava, you eat your food. Eat the can of Gerbers. Eat it damn you!\" The baby only cried, spilling a lot of applesauce on the bib. Sarah yelled louder, while attempting to force a plastic spoon in the babie's mouth. Finally giving up, Sarah chucked the glass jar against the fridge. The impact made an indent and dislodged an alphabet magnet, which fail to the floor along with a note. On the note read Sarah's handwriting, \"doctor scientist appointment: April 26\"-- Two more days. \n\nDuring those two days Sarah completely broke down. She watched helplessly as her baby shrunk. It was a nightmare from which Sarah hoped desperately to wake, but she never did-- the baby continued shrinking in size, at an faster and faster rate. She didn't call the doctor because she knew that they would not believe her, she did not even believe herself. Through tears she tried to convince herself that she had only a creative, horrible imagination. Yet however much she tried the baby kept looking more and more younger.\n\nThe doorbell range. Sarah sat the baby into the rocker and went to attend the door: \"Hello, may I help you? Oh, it's you! Doctor please come in. Come on in..\"\n\nThe research doctor came into the room and plugged his nose, asking emphatically, \"What is that smell?\" Sarah looked at him bewildered, not knowing what he referred to. \"Never mind that,\" continued the doctor. \"May I just take a look at your daughter, please?\" Sarah lead him to the rocker. The doctor barfed in his mouth, gulping down the fluids. \"Good lord,\" he exclaimed. On the rocker lay a small, nine-month-old, rotting, baby corpse. \n\nSarah crashed to her knees crying, hysterical. She explained that the baby had reversed it's age. Yes, her daughter had indeed grown past three months and even on to 13, only to reverse again to three, and then suddenly died. The doctor was unconvinced. He tried to comfort her and calm her down, meanwhile he called the police. She screamed, \"Don't call the police! They won't believe me. Unlike you they don't know the full story!\" but the doctor said that it was for her well being. He would find a place where she could get help-- a place of help was his euphemism for insane asylum. When the police arrived shortly after, on their record Sarah was an unfortunate mother brought to insanity six months ago by her daughter's death.\n"
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[WP] "We knew you would have to return to the sky eventually."
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"At her sister's funeral, Katherine felt numb. It was like she was watching a play or something, where emotions would burst out of people, and she couldn't understand why. \n\nThe mom, on the other hand, was a drunk. At the funeral reception, she kept standing up to make wobbly speeches, saying things like, \"we knew... you would have... to return... to the sky... eventually.\"\n\nLastly, Dick, the oldest, decided to leave town. As his mother stood up to ramble one more time, he pulled his sister aside.\n\n\"I'm gonna leave, Katherine,\" he said quietly. \"I just wanted to say goodbye.\"\n\nShe looked at him. \"What do you mean 'leave'?\" she asked.\n\n\"I'm finally getting out of this f---ing city,\" Dick said. \"I'm gonna go conquer the world.\"\n\n///\n \n*Scene #29 of r/100scenes*",
"You wake up laying on the side of the road, you sit up and look around having no clue how you got there. You stand up and wipe your pants cleaning any dirt off them. You hitch a ride in a car passing by and get dropped off in a small town full of people. No one knows who you are, likewise you don't know who anyone is. You find a hospital and walk in explaining your situation to the clerk she makes you an appointment and offers you a room to stay in. The next available slot the doctor comes in and checks you out \"everything seems to be fine, no injuries. But you have no memories.\" he hesitates for a moment, \"it's like you've never had them, like you were just born. I've never seen anything like this\" he looks perplexed. You make another appointment and set out to see if you can trigger any memories. As you step out of the hospital into the afternoon air you look up at the clouds. A sense of familiarity over comes you so much that tears come to your eyes. You quickly swipe them away and start down the road. You turn into a bakery glance around and then leave again realizing that you aren't hungry. As you roam the streets you find the people especially interesting, you watch as people talk on cell phones or sit down to chat. You smile as you see little kids walking down the sidewalks with their parents. You notice a little girl sitting on the curb alone and you suddenly take off towards her. All you can think of is that you need to get to that little girl. As you approach her she looks up, jumping up and racing towards you as well. You scoop her up in a big hug, having no idea who she is but knowing she's important. When you set her down she looks up at you and smiles. She takes your hand and starts walking down an alley. She glances back at you as the alley starts to fade into a white to blue gradient. She continues to walk forward into the blue and says to you \"we knew you would have to return to the sky eventually\" "
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[WP] By accident you made yourself immortal while you were drunk. Yesterday you got an invitation to a cocktail party to meetother immortals and eternal beings.
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"I woke up on my bathroom floor with that nice crusty vomit stuff on the corners of my mouth. \"The fuck happened last night?\" I get up and hobble over out the door and to the couch. I nearly vomited again when I smelled the gin on the coffee table. I look back at the bathroom and I see a bullet hole on the wall. I rush over and inspect it he hole. \"What the fuck happened here!?\" I ask myself out loud. \n\nI step on something large and metal as I walk to the toilet to sit down. I looked down to find my SIG p226 on the floor. \"Why are you on the ground\", I mumble as I struggle to pick it up in my drunken state. There is blood on it. I look up to the mirror and look at myself in confusion. There is a spot where my hair is matted and blood flecked, right on my temple. \"Oh my god\", I think. I get up and head to the couch again. My mind is rushing, in a haze trying to register what is happening. I look at my phone. I get a message from, Elvis? \"The fuck happened last night. Elvis is texting me and my gun was on my bathroom floor and I'm pretty sure I shot my self it seems.\" Great start of a day. \n\nI check my phone to see what, \"Elvis\" sent me. \"Dude you ok m8? We were watching y'all's party and I saw you usher your friends out only for you to go to your gun and walk into your bathroom and kys.\" I have no idea what's going on, I seemed to have kms after the party. I go over to the kitchen to make some coffee and have some cereal when I get a message from Elvis again. \"Dude, alright? I just got a notification from Immortals R Us and they said you shot your self into immortality. Fuckin sweet dude\". \"Jesus, Bob Ross and I are having a meet and greet at Mount Olympus tonight, you should stop by and say hi. I'll send my personal Über to pick you up at 8:00. This is black tie so dress nice, see you later\". I guess I better go get some drinks and clean my suit for tonight. Really convenient I found this Writing prompt Reddit thing, I'll have to tell what happened after the party later in an edit. *turns off computer*",
" As I walked into the bar, I saw all the types of creatures that I'd only read about in mythology books. A centaur sat in a barstool with his legs crossed drinking a cocktail. A man floating on a cloud sat next to the horse-man and had a drink of his own. I was being escorted into a side room with a sign above it reading \"conference room\". I was pushed through the swinging wooden doors and quickly gathered my surroundings.\n I quickly realized how weak I felt sitting next to such beings. Sure, we were all immortal, but what would I actually DO with my immortality? Do as many drugs as I pleased with no consequences? Drink to the sky to make my never ending punishment feel better? No, these creatures DID something. They used their immortality to do something for the greater good.\n As we sat down at the table, there were 4 other creatures sitting around the table. A 3 headed creature sat to my left. A bald eagle headed man sat at my right. Across from me was the same Centaur, he must have followed us into the room. And at the head sat a beast of a figure. \n Manly purple legs hung off his silver throne. His giant biceps bulged as he clutched a trident. His gray hair fell down to his shoulders in perfect waves. And his sky blue eyes burned into mine as he surveyed his newcomer. His name was Poseidon. \n \"Do you understand why you're here?\" His voice boomed like a thousand drums.\n \"Well... I'm immortal.\"\n \"Yes, and do you understand what that means for you and us?\"\n \"Not exactly, no. I was kinda hoping that would get cleared up here.\" My voice was shaking compared to the confident hum of Poseidon's voice.\n \"Boy, we are the last immortals in the universe. We look over Earth, keeping away unknown evils from the citizens. All other immortals have been banished, for losing faith in Earth's civilization, or have turned to the side of the 'unknown evils'. All of my brothers, Zeus, Hades, Athena, and so, so many more... have all lost hope in restoring good to Earth...\n\nBut son, that's where you come in...\"\n\nEdit: opps, messed up the paragraphs, but it will do.",
"I had absolutely no idea how I ended up immortal but it was true, I was no longer able to die. Which is kind of a good thing as my wife had shoved me off the side of a cliff to collect on the life insurance policy I had. I even caught it on my GoPro.\n\nI had proven her attempted murder of myself and had filed for divorce the same day as she was taken to prison. For about a week, everything was normal. Well, the police questioned me about how I survived such a fall and people were sympathizing with me over what my wife had done. But I went to work as a waiter in the restaurant my uncle owned, did some grocery shopping, paid the bills...\n\nThen he started showing up. Some strange man in a suit who'd say he \"Wanted a change from those bullshit avant-garde restaurants in the city center\" and ate at my uncle's simple diner. He didn't look any older than 25 in my opinion... but had heavy eyes, as if he has experienced the world.\n\nFor about two months he'd come in at least twice a week, always trying as many different things and tipping about ten times the cost of his meal. We'd get into some minor talk about football, the news, all that kind of stuff.\n\nThat was, until the day he found out I was immortal.\n\nIt was a rather busy shift at work, especially since it was the end of the school year when parents took their graduate children out to celebrate getting acceptance into colleges. One trucker who stopped in the restaurant as it was the closest we had to a drive-in diner... he was rather careless, drinking as he didn't need to deliver a truck the next day. Anyway, his steak knife slipped from his hand and luckily, only I was injured. A rather severe cut but it healed before anyone else noticed.\n\nThe trucker apologized profusely, my uncle wanted to make sure I wasn't injured. Luckily the cut was already healed and I played it off, saying that only the handle hit me.\n\nBut the other man, the man in the suit... he noticed.\n\nIn fact, after the end of my shift, he followed me home and broke into my apartment.\n\n'Jesus Christ!' I yelled when I noticed him sitting on my couch. 'Arthur, what the hell are you doing here?!'\n\n'Well, I wanted to speak to you privately and I believed this was the safest place to do so,' he said calmly.\n\n'So you *broke into my home*?!' I demanded. 'How'd you get in here anyway?'\n\nHe answered me by throwing a knife straight at my throat, causing me to collapse onto the floor in pain. I wheezed through my damaged windpipe as he calmly walked towards me and pulled the blade out.\n\n'I've learned a few tricks over the centuries,' Arthur said as he examined the blade, watching as the blood flowed off and directly back into my neck. 'Mainly observation but lockpicking, breaking and entering...' \n\nHe was now rolling up his sleeves in front of me. 'It was more of a hobby, however. I'm just curious as to whether you've evaded our notice... or you just acquired your gift.'\n\nHe then brought the blade towards his elbow, cutting through until his forearm had fallen off completely and was now writhing on the floor. He didn't seem to be bothered in the slightest as he walked into the kitchenette while his arm dissolved into blood and disappeared, a geyser of blood forming a new limb from his body.\n\n'You really should start drinking herbal teas, very healthy indeed,' he said to me as he boiled water on my stove. He used his own teapot, I didn't even own one.\n\n'I...' I began, trying to think back. 'I don't know. I just started healing really quickly is all.'\n\n'The amount of younger immortals who all say that,' he said dismissively. 'The thing is, I know you're not lying. It's not easy for you to fool people.'\n\n'So... you hunt immortals, is that it?' I asked him. 'To either kill or recruit me?'\n\n'Like I could or would,' he said as he poured the hot water into a cup and brewed the instant coffee, stirring with his own finger. 'No, there's a monthly get-together between the stranger, older elements of the world. Immortals, warlocks, dragons... There will definitely be the vampire lord, he never misses an opportunity to feed in an ethical manner.'\n\n'Did- did you just fucking say *vampire*?' I asked.\n\n'If they don't feed on us, they'll just have to hunt random mortals,' Arthur said. 'I even make a good bit of coin- Money! Sorry, I always slip into the older ways. Anyway, it's an hour of pain but a good way to make some quick cash among other possibilities. Believe me, you *will* need a familiar face, especially after the first century. I'll even provide transport and... proper wear.'\n\n'So, this isn't suitable?' I asked as I signalled at my black buttoned shirt and dress pants.\n\n'Well, that is under-dressing for our little shindig,' he said. 'Full suit, a tie, pocket square... Anyway, I'll bring you there by car on Tuesday evening. I know the restaurant isn't open that day.'\n\n---\n\n**Part 2 Coming Soon**"
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[WP] You are walking home from a long day at work when boss battle music suddenly starts playing.
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"Alexander watched as the sun set over the horizon forming a near perfect gradient of colors ranging from golden to red, to a deep purple. Another late day at work had been just the punctuation this awful week had needed for Alex, and he was content that it was over, for a couple days at least. \n\n\nThe back street he always took home from work was too old and decrepit to be used anymore, made all the more real by the cones placed on either end to prevent traffic, but it still made for a nice shortcut for pedestrians, and even the occasional brave cyclist. \n\n\nEnamored as he was by the sunset and the idea of being at home and not at work, Alex did not notice the rapidly descending object. The object crashed into the street behind Alex, leaving a trail of broken cement as it slid to a stop with a thunderous rumble. \n\n\nAlex turned to see a vehicle roughly the size of a city bus with two large wings on either side, in fairly bad shape as a rear hatch flew off its hinges. Following the damaged hatch out of the ship as a boom box that came flying out playing some very aggressive music that sounded like it belonged in some old school RPG. It bounced several times, but continued playing the music as it was followed out by a man wearing a solid black slim fitting body suit with a black jacket on over it. \n\n\nThe man turned to his ship, and audibly cursed several times, finally rushing over and kicking one of the wings, instantly regretting it as he grabbed his foot in pain. Seeing Alex, the man came over with a duffel bag over one shoulder, the boom box playing music the whole time. \n\n\n“Hey friend.” The man started as he approached Alex. “You look like you’ve got nothing better to do than to not die at the hands of a couple alien jerkoffs, am I right?”\n\n\n“I would like to not die at the hands of aliens right now, yes.” Alex would have written the guy off as crazy if he hadn’t just walked out of a crashed spaceship. \n\n\n“That’s good.” The man replies happily, nodding along to the music. “The names Wesley, and that’s my ship the Merlin.”\n\n\n“Looks like it has seen better days.” Alex looked over Wesley’s shoulder at the burning ship.\n\n\n“That she has, all thanks to those jackoffs.” Wesley pointed over Alex’s shoulder at another ship descending towards the street where the two were standing. “Best be about it then, ranged, or melee?”\n\n\n“What?”\n\n\n“Ranged?” Wesley produced what appeared to be a very high tech looking pistol from the duffel bag. “Or melee?” He then produced a sword that appeared to be made of metal even as the blade shimmered between bright blue and crimson red.\n\n\n“The badass looking sword I guess.” Alex still wasn’t entirely sure what was happening. \n\n\n“Man after my own heart.” Wesley smiled and handed the multicolored blade to Alex, taking up a second pistol in his now free hand. The other ship had landed while they were speaking, and a ramp slowly dropped down from the base of the ship. “Okay, real simple, let me do the talking, you just stand there and look menacing.” Alex gave the man a confused glance. “Perfect, just like that.”\n\n\nThe song on the boom box shifted to a new selection as a trio of human shaped figures descended the ramp. Alex noticed as they set foot on the street that they had grey skin and leathery faces, with a third eye in the center of their foreheads. \n\n\n“Human Trash Ans Wesley.” The leader of the trio rasped out in a gravelly voice. “Stand down and allow us to take you in for execution.”\n\n\n“Sounds fair right.” Wesley muttered to Alex, quiet enough for the aliens to not overhear. “Sounds fair.” He said louder to the aliens in a much more jovial manner, stepping forward two paces and raising one of the guns just long enough to fire a round at the lead alien. His third eye burst as the charged shot of the pistol came out the other side, sending the big alien to the ground. The other two growled and raised their own weapons that looked much like the rifle equivalent to Wesley’s high tech pistol. \n\n\nBullets started tearing through the concrete of the street, and Wesley shoved Alex hard to the side just in time to miss being shot. The pair of aliens slowly approached as the two humans took cover behind a dumpster. \n\n\n“Things are going well so far, don’t you think.” Wesley smiled as a shot rang off the edge of the metal dumpster. \n\n\n“You have two pistols.” Alex sighed. \n\n\n“So?”\n\n\n“Why didn’t you shoot two of them?” Alex asked, and Wesley laughed.\n\n\n“I never was good at aiming two at the same time.” He replied, shaking the pistol in his left hand. “I just think having two looks cooler.”\n\n\n“Fair, enough.” Alex said confidently. “What am I supposed to do with this against those?” Alex waved his glowing colored sword around as bullets popped and whizzed by. \n\n\n“That thing has enough of a high energy field around it that as long as it’s in front of you, those bullets ain’t shit.” Wesley motioned around the sword with both hands. \n\n\n“High energy?”\n\n\n“Too much to explain right now, just trust me.” Wesley flashed Alex a grin. “In fact, why don’t you head out there and be a distraction, I’ll see if I can hit them both at the same time.” A new song came on the boom box that had somehow survived the gunfire, and Alex shrugged. \n\n\n“Crazy aliens, crazier space man, theme music.” Alex stood up from the cover of the dumpster. “Magic sword, let’s do this.” He turned around the corner of the dumpster out of cover, holding the glowing sword in front of him. Several bullets came straight at him, and somehow, just feet in front of the sword, the veered off, bounced back, or simply dropped to the ground harmlessly. \n\n\nAlex didn’t question it, and started approaching the pair of aliens as they focused their fire and more and more rounds started hitting the invisible barrier in front of the sword. He knew when Wesley was behind him taking aim because the man couldn’t help but say something. \n\n\n“Eat this, loserfaces.” Wesley yelled as he raised both pistols and fired three shots from each. The alien on the right fell to the ground with three well placed wounds, and the one on the left stopped to check himself for wounds before deciding he was fine, and turning his gun on Wesley. \n\n\n“Damn it, left hand you suck.” Wesley dove to the side, taking a shot to the arm before he could get behind the dumpster. Now that the focus was not on him, Alex sprinted at the alien, who realized just in time to dodge the first swing of the weighty glowing sword. \n\n\nThe second he blocked with his rifle, sacrificing it, as the sword cleaved it in two. A heavy boot caught Alex in the chest, sending him flying backwards. As he collected himself, he saw the alien unsheathe what looked like a curved sickle from his belt, and rush at Alex. \n\n\nAlex blocked the first swing of the sickle with his sword, but the weapon hooked behind his sword, and the alien attempted to pull it free of Alex’s grip. Pulling back hard, Alex held the tension for a moment before releasing the sword entirely. The alien was surprised as the tension released and the sword flew at it. It ducked out of the way, and as it raised it’s head back up, Alex punched it hard right in the third eye, sending it screaming to the ground. \n\n\nQuickly retrieving the sword from where it had landed, Alex ended the alien with one sure stroke. Noticing the silence, Wesley came out from behind the dumpster. Seeing the last alien on the ground, he reached into his jacket and pulled out a remote, hitting a button that changed the song on the boom box to a victorious and uplifting song as he jumped for joy. ",
"I give up. I've tried to live according to logic all my life, and have done so with great success. But this? It was a... change of pace.\n\nI was walking home in a sweat drenched suit. Car broke down, had to walk in the 90 degree heat. I instinctively made a left turn at some point, since that was the way I normally went on my walk- all left turns. I didn't pay attention to where I was going. Then a burst of music started playing. I heard violins and other stringed instruments start playing. I looked up and found myself in a weird courtyard- where was I, and where as this music coming from? Then a young man in dirty blonde hair and a strange black robe appeared in front of me, holding a note.\n\n\"Hm...\" He pointed the note towards me. \"Hey, ever met a guy named Roxas?\" On the note was a black and write depiction of a young kid with spikey hair, but not quite an afro., some spiky brown hair, and a grin on his face. He was holding an oversized key. I recognized him from something, but I couldn't quite place what...\n\"No,\" I asked. Who the hell was he? \"Who are you?\"\n\n\"Demyx. Just looking for this kid named Roxas- I heard he was around here somewhere. He betrayed our organization, and, yup. Xemnas wants him and this kid named Sora dead.\n\n\"Hang on, where am I, and wait- you're gonna kill them?\"\n\n\"Well, yeah. Got a problem?\"\n\n\"Yes! I have a problem with letting innocents die!\"\n\nThen he manifested a large, guitar-like object out of thin air. The music began to include piano music. I pulled out my pocket knife.\n\n\"Sure about that?\" He asked.\n\n\"Yep.\" Then we fought.\n\nHe opened by strumming his guitar and shouting, \"***DANCE WATER DANCE***\". Then a hundred water guys with giant musical notes appeared, and with strength I had no idea I had, I beat them all up and made them vanish into thin air. Then, Demyx himself challenged me. He kept shouting that phrase as he shot water at me. I stabbed him over and over when I could until he was dead.\n\n\"...What are you?\" he asked as he faded into nothingness.\n\n\"Apparently, just a normal guy. You just suck.\"\n\nI leveled up and got the \"Explosion\" finishing move. Swinging my knife three times now caused balls of light to rotate around me and beat things up. Now, how the hell do I get out of here?",
"The quaking drums make me hang my head, sigh, and wonder what the hell I did to deserve this.\n\t\nThe alleyway, as always, is deserted. But I know he’s here, probably hiding in a dumpster or watching from one of the windows. I gotta hand it to him, he sure is sneaky. If he dedicated this much time to *actually* being a villain then he’d be friggin’ loaded by now.\n\t\nBut no.\n\t\nHe’s just a dumb kid.\n\t\n“Quit it,” I mutter. “I don’t got time for this.”\n\t\nInstead, he cranks the music up. A bow grinds against a cello’s strings as some high-pitched piano dances up and down the scales. I almost feel like I’m in a boss battle, and honestly, I wouldn’t put it past him to have plucked this music straight from a video game.\n\t\n“*NEVER!*” he shouts, and before I spot him, something slams into my back.\n\t\nI lurch forward but don’t fall, and when I turn around, there he is, hanging from a hose wrapped around a firescape, swinging back and forth like it's jungle vine. He’s got on the same cobbled-together outfit as always—small laundry basket over his head, crusty Hawaiian shirt and shorts, and flippers on his feet. \n\t\n*You, with the silly hair!* he’d shouted just a week ago. *You look different from everyone else, and so you must be a hero! Well, I’m a villain, and I’m gonna defeat you!*\n\t\nMost people my age wouldn’t put up with this crap. They’d say something harsh, shove him down, and walk away—but I *can’t*. For some reason, though he’s hella annoying, I’ve got a soft-spot for the kid. Maybe it’s because I get the feeling he doesn’t have many friends, or the fact that he reminds me a lot of myself when I was little.\n\t\nMaybe it’s both.\n\t\n“*I’ve got you now, superhero!*” he says. Then, he attempts a maniacal laugh but it comes out squeaky and disjointed. “*What will you do?*”\n\t\n“Go home, prob,” I say. “Listen, kid, can you hold off for today? It’s finals week. I gotta study or else I’ll fail.”\n\t\nHe eyes me up with a very serious look like I just gave him the offer of a life time. “So, you’re saying we should sign a truce?”\n\t\n“Huh?”\n\t\nHe nods, resting his chin in his hand. “Yes, that makes sense. You’ve got yourself a deal, superhero. We’ll avoid each other until this ‘finals week’ is over. In the meantime, there'll be no villainy from me. Can I expect the same from you?”\n\t\nWhat is my life? “Sure…?”\n\t\n“Good,” he says, again nodding. “Now, turn around. I must make my super secret escape.”\n\t\nAs I look the other way, trying to ignore his pitter-pattering little feet as he skitters away, I make a mental note to find a different route home from now on.\n***\nI don't know if this fits the prompt super well, but I still thought it was a fun little story. Thanks for the prompt! :D\n\nIf you like this story, check out my sub! r/longhandwriter"
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[WP] In a world where magic is based around music and its many different genres, you're a grumpy old bard who has to deal with bratty young mages and their destructive "modern genres".
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"The last tender notes of the lute resounded in the quiet tavern and the beautiful ice statues crumbled to pieces. Olaf met the dry unenthusiastic applause of the audience with his usual quick bow and well-hidden desire to strangle the drunken philistines with the strings of his instrument. A cleaner began swiping away the ice shards before Olaf could even get off the stage. It was just another day, just another performance, just another ode to a dying art unappreciated by the masses drowning in their own lechery and stupidity.\n\nOlaf sat down in the corner by himself and ordered another pint of ale, hoping that someone at least half-decent would take the stage next. His hopes were shattered to pieces, as a large set of drums was dragged onto the stage. A young man with short black hair and wide shit-eating grin on his face settled in and began his “performance”.\n\nFire erupted from every possible part of the stage. It briefly intertwined into forms of soldiers, monsters, sorcerers, and kings, promptly exploding into a chaotic mess again. Any semblance of form, beauty, or diligence was immediately shattered by the reckless, dissonant, and brashly loud hammering of the drums. Before long the young man himself was enveloped in a flowing armour of flame. Olaf scoffed. Surely these simple tricks couldn’t…\n\nThe crowd erupted in ecstatic, self-indulgent, and simply undignified cheering. Applause, shouts, demands for more before the performance had even ended, they ate this trite farce right up. Olaf felt his heartbeat echo in his ears. This they applauded. This! Not true art, not a piece he had spent months working on, no, that was not to their liking! But a barely planned, effortless, tasteless product of some brat’s fever dream was exactly the meal these picky starved connoisseurs wanted!\n\nThe ale mug went flying to the floor, its contents spilling all around. Olaf stormed out the door, his face fuming with anger. A sudden pain in his chest reminded him why he’d tried to avoid these outbursts in recent years. Olaf leaned onto the wooden outside wall of the tavern, the reflection of his red wrinkly face staring at him from a puddle on the ground. It was then that it hit him. It would die with him. The true art of music, the true meaning of magic, the intricacies of real skill would die with him.\n\n“Excuse me?”\n\nOlaf turned around. The dark-haired young man from earlier was standing by the entrance. Had the show already ended? This wasn’t the first time he’d lost track of time in his more emotional moments, but it was still jarring.\n\n“Are you Olaf Larsen, the King of Bards?” the man asked, his cocky smile replaced with a genuine look of concern.\n\n“That I am, boy.” Olaf spat on the ground. “Not that anyone remembers.”\n\n“You must be joking. You’re a legend among bards. Everyone I ever performed with admires your work. I’ve taken quite a bit of inspiration from your music myself. I think it shaped my style considerably.”\n\nThis brat. He dared compare his wild flailing to what being a bard really meant?\n\n“I highly doubt that,” Olaf answered through his teeth. “If it had, you’d have any semblance of talent.”\n\nThe man smiled wryly.\n\n“I thought you might say that.” He scratched his head. “It felt amazing to give that performance, but as soon as I saw you leave with that expression on your face… It was all gone, like a candle being snuffed out. What didn’t you like?”\n\n“What didn’t I like?” Olaf’s lips curled in disgust. “What was there to like!? Emotion, emotion, emotion, so much of it and yet not a single bit of form or elegancy to direct it. You’re like a child who throws a bucket of paint on a canvas and calls himself a painter!”\n\nThe man chuckled.\n\n“Well to be honest, Great Olaf, I always thought your performances lacked a bit of spice.” The shit-eating grinned returned. “With all due respect, it always felt like you were performing more for other artists than for a proper audience. Or even worse—just for yourself.”\n\nOlaf’s eye twitched.\n\n“And what of it? Does an architect concerns himself with what local farmers will think of his masterpiece? Why should I appeal to uneducated commoners who don’t know what true art means. Besides, it would be of no problem whatsoever for me to replicate your uncivilized battery if I wanted to. You, on the other hand, couldn’t master my style even if I gave you a hundred years.”\n\nThe man whistled and motioned to people inside the tavern.\n\n“I wouldn’t be so sure. It’s not that difficult to remember simple combinations and sequences. Now making up something on the fly, channeling raw feelings into your art, I just don’t think it’s something you can do anymore.” \n\nOlaf’s eyes sparked, as he grabbed his lute. A group of men carried the set of drums outside. A small crowd began gathering.\n\n“You think I don’t have emotion? I’ll show you emotion, boy, I’ll teach you some real music.”\n\nThe man settled in.\n\n“Well, let’s hear it then!”\n\nOlaf’s hands danced on the strings. The melody was elegant and beautiful, but power and tension could be felt within each note. From the puddles rose beautiful statues of ice, but an ominous red glow radiated from within them. They were seven women of crystal clear ice, each with a burning heart shining from within. They danced and spinned with both grace and reckless abandon. Olaf smirked and glanced over at his opponent.\n\nThe man was playing a lot slower, matching the speed and even the melody of Olaf’s lute. Figures of fire once again began their fast dance around him, but they no longer exploded into formless clouds of flame. Seven men, clad in armour of embers approached the women and joined them in the dance, moving with just as much finesse.\n\nOlaf’s smirk turned into an outright grin, as he made the melody more and more complex. The clouds above fell apart turning into water dragons circling the crowd, hot steam and smoke erupting from their mouths. The man adapted to the change and burning angels joined the serpents, starting a battle in the sky spanning across half the city.\n\nThe two melodies twisted, turned, intertwined, parted, and joined back countless times. Olaf laughed and so did his opponent. More and more details joined the symphony: kings, queens, knights, evil sorcerers, and crafty spies. The audience was enchanted, their eyes locked to the spectacle. There were no cheers, no applause, no shouts, only bewitched silence brought about by absolute beauty.\n\nOlaf didn’t stop playing when the pain in his chest returned, nor did he stop laughing. He was a professional, a King of Bards, a master of his art. Something like that couldn’t stop him. His fingers moved expertly through the second sting and the third. He only collapsed when the song had wound down to its end, all the characters leaving the stage and returning to their elements. Only then did he allow himself rest.\n\nAnd yet even as his lute hit the ground and he soon followed, Olaf knew that it would not die with him. His art would live. Perhaps in a different form, in a different element, but it would live."
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[WP] Every statue on Earth comes to life, and you happen to live in Rio.
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"\"Not again,\" Father Matthew groaned as he stepped out of the church. He thought living in New York City had been bad. He enjoyed being in Brazil, truly - the people who came to his church were kindly and respectful, and he enjoyed helping them. But at least in New York the statues seemed to know they were just that, statues. Even Lady Liberty, the most egotistical of all the monuments in NYC, stayed on her Island most of the time, waving at boats with her torch. She never tried to enter buildings or control congress or anything. Christ the Redeemer on the other hand? That guy was something else.\n\nThe ground shook like an earth quake when he walked, so at least Father Matthew knew he was coming. He raced to the church door and flung it open. Just in time too.\n\nThe giant statue of Jesus was right on his door step. When he first arrived, Christ the Redeemer had been a sight to behold. Now he was a beacon of annoyance. \n\n\"What is it now?\" Father Matthews asked.\n\n\"I have come to bless your church, Father. They say you are the truest and most faithful in all of-\"\n\n\"Oh, can it.\" Father Matthew sighed. \"Look, we went over this before, you're-\"\n\n\"I am the lamb of God, who died for your sins and-\"\n\n\"YOU'RE NOT JESUS!\" Father Matthews snapped. \"You're just a statue.\"\n\nThe statue narrowed his eyes. \"Or perhaps, I have risen from the dead, once again, to offer salvation.\"\n\n\"You're made from concrete and soapstone, not flesh and blood. You can google it yourself. I mean, if you wouldn't crush a computer.\"\n\nChrist the redeemer stepped back, lowering his arms from their usual stretched out state. \"Fine. Perhaps I will find another priest worthy of my presence.\" \n\n\"Yeah, yeah,\" Father Matthews said. He'd heard that before. He happened to know the statue went all around Brazil, going from priest to priest and getting denied from them all, until he ran out of them and started over again. \"See you in a month,\" Father Matthews muttered as the statue stormed off, shaking the entire church.\n\nFather Matthews shut his door. The church was quiet and dark. He sighed. \"Jesus Christ.\"\n"
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[WP] Pick a TV show that was completely ruined by its finale and write a new finale for it.
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"Clark floated for a moment in the air of the family barn. He was astonished at his own feat. He'd flown before when he was under the influence of various colours of kryptonite, but he barely remembered the experience. He looked at his hands, at his body, a small grin came to his lips. It was incredible. He now had complete control over his powers. He looked back down at Darkseid and his grin disappeared. Instead, he gritted his teeth and, throwing his fists both in front of himself, shot through the air and through the evil creature before him. Scattering it to the ether from which it came.\n\nThe young hero sped to the north pole, to his Kryptonian fortress. Lights and sounds assaulted his senses as it sprang to life for the first time in months at the presence of a fully realized Kryptonian warrior. Clark knew what he was looking for, and he stepped to the caped suit, encased in crystal. The clear stone shifted as he reached toward it, allowing his hands to pass through. Determination written into the lines of his face, he grasped his birthright. Throwing off his human apparel, he donned his suit - his uniform - his armour. From this day forth, he would no longer look at it as a burden or a relic from a world he wished to forget. It was a symbol. A symbol for what he came from, for what he has been through, for what he has become, and for what he represents. He knew how to save the world, but he also knew that people first needed hope.\n\nChloe was running through the street in Metropolis, trying to find something, anything to help. She moved in an out of the crowd, looking for anyone, ANYONE affected by the meteor in Smallville. Then she heard the fluttering of fabric in wind, and she looked up. There, floating above the crowd, was Clark. He was wearing the suit she saw in his fortress not so long ago. He looked confident. He looked...heroic. She pointed and screamed \"Everyone! Everyone look! We're saved!\" All the people in the crowd followed her finger and saw the figure in the air. The very meaning of strength and power reflected in his eyes. The assembly cheered. They threw their hands up and yelled senseless emotion into the air. Then someone said it. A word that would carry through the roar. \"SUPERMAN!\" One more voice picked up the call. \"SUPERMAN\" Then another, and another, until the whole crowd was beating the air with the name. \"SUPERMAN! SUPERMAN! SUPERMAN!\" Chloe smiled as she caught Clark's eye. She nodded.\n\nClark looked down at the people screaming for him. His face serious, and his fists clenched. He found Chloe and she nodded to him. He nodded back, then slowly rose further into the air. He did a loop and made sure as many people saw him as possible. He had to show them that there was hope. That he would save them. Then he took to the sky, as he shot up to the encroaching planet. He pushed himself faster, faster, faster than he thought was possible. He crashed into the celestial body with a resounding boom and pressed a massive crater in its surface. He pushed it with all of his considerable might. It resisted. He willed himself forward, he dug deeper than he'd ever dug before. He growled his frustration into the atmosphere above Metropolis, he yelled out in anger and desperation as he summoned more strength than he thought he had inside himself. Clark felt the giant sphere shift under his power. He tensed his every muscle and bellowed his defiance at its stubborn form, pushing with all the force of all the warriors of Krypton. The planet moved faster, and faster. He kept going until he hurled it from the solar system at unbelievable speeds. Then, the sweat freezing even as it breached his skin in the frozen void. He turned back to the sun and bathed in its light. He looked back to the blue and white marble that was his home. And he smiled, flying back to his people.\n\n---\n\nEdit: This is what I wanted at the end of Smallville...pretty sure its what EVERYONE wanted..."
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Maybe you are a muggle who found this by accident? Maybe you are one of said warlocks? Have fun!
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[WP] Magic is real, but it manifests through a person's collection of very specific things. Hoarders are actually warlocks
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"In short: it's not at all crazy that I got a fifth mortgage in order to finance collecting Dead Poet's Society DVDs.\n\nThe new car I needed to in order to travel to as many stores, in person, in a day as humanly possible. The truck and truck driver I needed in order to haul-you guessed it-Dead Poet's Society. The warehouse and warehouse employees I need in order to keep track inventory, watch the director's cut in reverse, and be experimented on. \n\nPlenty of people do it. This is how the male-pattern baldness guy discovered the correct ratio of empty pizza boxes to half-full pizza boxes-be brute forced it. It's an investment. And I am already seeing a benefit-plenty of news stations and vloggers have interviewed me and some have even come back to visit. \n\nThank the Elder Hoarders for their discovery of the tummy-tuck sequence of empty peanut butter and Fluff containers, as well as for their various teeth-whitening schema, of which I use the dirty dishes one.",
"When I was very young, I supposed all people lived the way we did. I think we all do that really. When all we know is the home we were born into, we imagine that everyone's dad walks around in tightey whiteys on Saturday mornings. That everyone's mother eats breakfast standing at the counter while waiting for coffee to brew. But as I grew up, I started to realize that not everyone's parents let stuff pile up around the corners of rooms, like slowly growing mountains. Still, it seemed so normal to me. It still does sometimes.\n\nThe problem is that my mother keeps everything. Literally everything. Every couple of years, my sister and I used to go through and throw out the expired food. She would sulk in her room while we did. She hated it, but it always made me feel so much better knowing that the three bottles of half finished ketchup from 2007 were no longer in there. She sometimes cried as we went through it. \"It's *my* stuff.\" She would shudder as she thought of it. And I was always so angry with her over it. I wanted to shake her and say \"Nothing bad will happen if you throw out moldy bread! Sometimes I think you love all this shit you own more than you love me!\"\n\nSometimes I'm not very fair to her. It's hard not to be angry with her. As a kid, I felt too embarrassed to bring people home to our house. I was an awkward kid anyways and had a lot of trouble making friends. When I thought about bringing people in to see the mountains of old newspaper piled up on one of the three coffee tables or the ever overflowing little garbage cans that were scattered all over the house, I was just too embarrassed to even try. What would they think when they saw how we lived? So most of the time I would hang out with my sister Julie.\n\nIt feels even worse being angry with her now that she's gone. And the fact that she's gone makes me even more pissed at her. It was miserable watching her die. I have always been worried about that moment, and finally seeing it play out was just as bad as I expected. After dad filled out the paperwork and we went home, it felt very anticlimactic. My mother was dead, and the sun was still shining. My mother was dead and what the fuck were all these people doing driving their cars around like the world hadn't just ended? As the casseroles arrived, we had to find new places to put the junk. The collection of tupperware that had been on the counter since I was in middle school was thrust into a nearby plastic bin along with her cookie jar collection. The gallons of paint were moved to the floor of the pantry. And slowly it felt like the house was deflating. As though the house was a balloon and every time I moved something a little bit of the air that was my mother leaked out. \n\nPersonally, I've always strived to minimalism. I never seem to attain it, but I strive. Maybe that's why I get so frustrated with my mom. I make an active effort not to bring in too much stuff, but my desk is always a mess. Grandma used to say I had 'The gene'. I hope not. All that stuff stresses me out. Just being in her house makes me feel like the pile of clothes in the corner is piled up on my shoulders, weighing me down.\n\nNow that the funeral is done, the casket buried, the relatives sent back to their homes a few states away, we need to deal with that house. It's abundantly clear that Dad isn't going to be able to do it. So it falls to Julie and me. \n\nI sit outside gathering my strength. Even in the best of times this job would take weeks to do, but right now is not the best of times. People talk about grief like it's a journey. A road you walk that leads you somewhere. It feels nothing like that. It feels like a hole in the middle of your chest that you're going to live with until you die. And right now, that hole is the biggest I've ever felt. \n\nDad is staying with his brother for the week, so I let myself in. As I push the door open as far as it will go I hear the sound of mom's asshole cat jumping off of something. Mom was so keen to have a cat that she took Hero home before he'd had a chance to properly learn how to be a cat. He bonded with Mom, but he wanted to murder every living thing that entered her home. As his brown face appears around the corner, I feel sorry for him for the first time in my life. He growls at me under his breath. Joy. He's still is ever pleasant self. \n\nI probably should just pack everything up as quickly as I can and take it to thrift stores. I picture myself going to home depot, getting a 100 pack of cardboard boxes and just shoving everything into a box as fast as I can. It feels good to think about, but I know I can't do it. I tell myself that it's only because Dad needs stuff to live. I don't think about the eerie feeling deep inside that the things in this house may be calling to me somehow. As though they are connected to me and getting rid of them will hurt them. Deep down, I think this has always been why my relationship with mom was so strained. I really am very like her and I hate that. I'm glad that I don't have room in my dorm for much. I'm hoping it will help keep me from keeping too much of her stuff.\n\nI look at the clock. It's after 2, Julie should be here by now, but then again Julie operates on Julie time, so who knows when she'll arrive. After looking out the window one last time for her car, I wander from room to room mentally taking stock of what is on the surface. As I look at Mom's hobby room, suddenly the anger comes bubbling up from my chest. I can't decide if I want to scream or cry. Maybe it's both. I feel like a terrible daughter. I run out to my car. There's a starbucks down the street and I could really use some highly caffeinated sugar. When I return, Julie is there, looking smug \"Running late, eh Sue?\" She gives me a condescending grin as I slog up the driveway. I feel guilty when I realize I probably should have called her and offered to get one for her. She stands with her back to the car, looking grimly at the house. When I extend my double caramel latte out, she takes it and sips before giving it back, never taking her eyes off it. \n\nAfter a minute, we start inside. The phone is blaring. Julie runs to the kitchen to find one of the cordless phones. I stand in the hallway. Even here my mom stashed stuff. The closet is overflowing with shoes, there is a small pile of purses in the floor, box on the shelf holds hundreds of keys. \n\nJulie's voice filters in from the kitchen, \"I know this is hard, but it has to be done.\" I bet I know who that is. Aunt Ray is very like mom. Her house looks similarly piled up. She's taken Mom's death particularly hard. \"If there's something specific you want, let us know, but there's too much stuff for us to ask you about everything.\" I can hear the tinny sound of Aunt Ray's voice as she replies. Saying she's not handling this well might be an understatement. After a few minutes I hear Julie say \"Ok\" and put the phone on speaker. She raises her eyebrows at me as though to say \"just roll with it\". Aunt Ray's voice sounds rough and cracked. \"Girls\" she croaks \"if you find anything...strange come to me and let me know. It's ok if you don't\" Her voice is getting high and choked up. I feel my eyes start to smart, I'm a sympathetic crier. Julie softly reassures her \"Of course we will Auntie. Of course we will.\"\n\nOver the course of the following week we get most of the downstairs done. I swear, we took at least thirty trips to the thrift store. As we finished a room, we ignored the empty feeling it left behind. As though by finally revealing the counters and scrubbing them clean we had scrubbed away Mom's memory. With each box left behind at Dr. Bob's Thrifty Deals and More I felt like a little piece of me was being left behind. I couldn't decide if it felt good to finally be free of all that stuff, or if I felt like I was losing myself. Some things were harder than others. Mom's pie pans hit pretty hard. Nobody needs thirteen pie pans, but Mom loved to make pie. She used to make pie for every birthday and every holiday. Three days later and I'm still fighting the urge to run back and explain that I have made a huge mistake and that I absolutely must have those pie plates back.",
"'It's been about six months since any of us have heard from him.'\n\n'Mmm. Six months.' Barry jotted this down, cradling the phone's greasy handset between his shoulder and his ear. 'And before that?'\n\n'Well, he was always very strange- a great guy, don't get me wrong, but prone to... obsession, I guess you'd call it. I remember when I was a kid, my parents would take me to visit him, and his house was always full of the coolest stuff. Back then, it was organized, though, and it was stuff that was like, weird, but you could kind of see why someone would have it.' The caller was a woman, maybe in her thirties. Maturity had shaken off most of the valleygirl in her voice, but hints of it still remained. \n\n'Interesting stuff.' \n\n'Yeah, like he had a couple of those old player pianos, the ones where you could work the pedals and put in this sheet music with a bunch of holes and the piano would play the piece of music itself. They were super cool, but he had four of them, all in a row in one hallway of his house. I mean, who has that many player pianos? I got the feeling my parents visited him out of pity, but I only got that feeling when I was older. When I was a kid he was just my cool Uncle Don.' \n\n'Mmm.' Barry turned in his ancient swivel chair, searching for another binder on his desk. When he found it, he flipped pages until he found what he was looking for. 'Do you remember what the pianos looked like?'\n\n'Um, no, not really.'\n\nBarry frowned and flipped the binder shut.\n\n'And you say you first became concerned about Don's behavior about six months ago.'\n\n'No, it was before that. After my Dad passed away a few years ago, I started to take over visiting Uncle Don. He inherited a lot of stuff from my Dad, a load of old crap that Dad knew he'd be interested in, and right about then was when he started to get really weird.'\n\n'What year was this?'\n\n'2012.'\n\nThe pencil scribbled *Threshold reached in 2012. Probable minor advance over minimum limit.*\n\n'So, what made you first concerned?'\n\n'Well, it was like overnight, his standard of what he thought was collectible dropped out completely. I visited him two months apart, and the second time I came over, probably four or five months after my Dad passed, his house was totally crammed with stuff. There were, like, only these little passageways through the house, like a rabbit's warren.'\n\n*Unusually quick discovery time- possible natural aptitude?*\n\n'Did you notice any strange behavior at this time?'\n\n'Yes, absolutely. He'd stopped shaving and cutting his hair, and, I think, brushing his teeth. He seemed really excited about something, but he wouldn't tell me anything about it. It was like he was teasing me almost, like he had some big secret that he wasn't allowed to tell me anything about.'\n\nBarry nodded.\n\n'Yes, this is typical behavior- the affected person often feels like they are keyed into some special knowledge that the rest of the world doesn't know about. We call it 'Secret of the Universe' syndrome.'\n\nThe woman on the other end of the phone made no sign that she appreciated Barry's quippy name for her uncle's affliction.\n\n'Anyway- this sounds like a typical case. Unfortunately, the way the laws in this country work, it may be impossible for you to ever do anything about it. Your uncle is perfectly free to fill his house with as much crap as he wants, regardless of how detrimental it may be to his mental health, and I can guarantee you-' Barry peered down at his scribbled notes, 'Amanda, that it *is* detrimental to his mental health. Your uncle is in serious trouble here- without help, these kinds of people tend to degenerate fairly quickly.'\n\n'Oh, god.' Said Amanda. Barry heard the click of a lighter followed after a few seconds by the hiss of exhaled breath. 'So, I mean, can you do anything?'\n\n'Of course.' Said Barry. He grinned, spinning a slow circle in his chair. 'Now, it's not particularly *legal* what I'm proposing, but Mavis would have informed you of that before you called me.'\n\n'Yeah.' \n\n'Ok, so. All I need is for you to get Don out of the house for a day- a whole day. Our team comes in with a couple of trucks, a couple of strong college kids, and we clean everything out. I mean everything- we can't slow down to say, oh, save this or that- we've got to take it all.' Barry's eyes narrowed slightly as he said this, and his grin broadened.\n\n'Oh, I- I didn't realize you'd have to take...'\n\n'It's best this way, Amanda. All you have to do, when you get back with your uncle after the day out, is act completely shocked, like you have no idea what happened. He's maybe going to be a little suspicious, but you just stand your ground. I can't stress this enough, Amanda- *don't tell him you helped get rid of the stuff.*'\n\nThere was silence on the other end of the line. Then: 'Ok. Fine.'\n\n'Great. Great. I'm going to patch you back through with my secretary and she'll set up a time for this all to happen within the next two weeks.'\n\n'Ok.' Amanda sounded worn out. Another exhalation hissed over the receiver. \n\n'Amanda. You're doing the right thing.'\n\nBarry spent another five minutes convincing Amanda that allowing a stranger to come into her uncle's house and take all of his possessions was a great idea, and then he passed her off to his secretary. After he had hung up the phone, he scooped up the binder that he had been flicking through earlier in their conversation. He stashed it underneath his arm and stood up from his desk, stretching out a crick in his back as he did so. Walking quickly, he left the portable office and stepped out into the vastness of the warehouse. \n\nThe Collection stretched out in front of him on rows of shelves that stretched on and on until they disappeared into the blackness at the back of the warehouse. Barry could feel its power radiate to him, ringing like a phantom beat that corresponded to the resonant frequency of his bones. With a click of his fingers, he rose into the air, the tips of his dirty New Balance sneakers dangling a few inches above the concrete floor. He drifted down one of the rows at the pace of an electronic golf cart, passing endless piles of crap- broken blenders and rusted farm equipment, cases of expired beer and old, nail-riven piles of lumber. A long section of bleached and sun-rotted playground equipment, its bright colors faded to the blandest pastels. Entire libraries of Reader's Digest Condensed Books, five gallon buckets of rusty ball-bearings. The Collection was endless, and endlessly chaotic, except for where it wasn't. \n\nAs he drifted down towards the music section, Barry mused to himself.\n\n*What in the world will I be able to do once I've got a full hundred Player Pianos?*"
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[WP] A man trades his soul for wealth, not because of personal greed, but to save others.
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"It was twenty years ago that he first knocked on my door. When I opened it, he registered no surprise at the fact that I was a twenty-something young man dressed in a suit and tie, and not...well, the stereotype. The pitchfork lightly against the wall, and that did elicit a look of bemusement from the man as I welcomed him into my office.\n \nIt wasn’t really an office, exactly -- it was whatever my client expected it to be. Some saw a cave filled with hellfire and smelling of brimstone, others a torture chamber filled with iron maidens and pentagrams. One woman saw it as a boat, for some reason. She had other issues going on, but I didn’t mind playing pirate for a bit.\n \nWhat today’s client, a short and stout fellow, saw, was evidently an office. A boring, gray, windowless prison with nothing but a desk and some chairs. Evidently, he saw what was about to transpire as a business deal, nothing more or less. Very well; at least I looked good. \n \nI gestured to the chair on the near side of the table. He sat down wordlessly, his pudgy frame barely fitting into the seat. \n \n“So,” I began, “what can I do for you, Mr…”\n \n“Clements.”\n \n“Right, Mr. Clements. My name is -- well, I guess you can just call me Phil. The other names are just a little tough on the tongue, don’t you think?” I chuckled. He didn’t. “Right, well I see we’ll just be getting to it, then. Why are you here?”\n \n“I aim to make a deal.”\n \n“That’s why my boss hired me. How’d you find me? The folks I deal with generally don’t leave references…”\n \n“I...I’m not sure. The door just --”\n \n“Appeared? Oh, I know how this works. But I’m not here for you to buy some stock. No, Mr. Clements, you wanted something. You wanted it so badly that my doorstep darkened *you.* So, Mr. Clements, I’ll ask this once. Think carefully. *Why are you here?*”\n \nHe hesitated for a moment before settling on his words. “I want to be rich,” he said simply.\n \nI laughed. “Rich? Anyone can be rich. You sure you don’t want to be tall? Handsome? Brilliant?”\n \n“Rich,” he declared.\n \n“One man asked me for unlimited knowledge and all earthly pleasures. And you want to be ---”\n \n“Rich.”\n \n“Yes, I’m starting to get that.”\n \n“Beyond my wildest dreams.”\n \n“That’s more like it. Alright, Mr. Clements, I can give you what you want. I can make you richer than Midas to the power of Mansa Musa. But it won’t come cheap.”\n \nHis face didn’t move. “How much?”\n \n“Twenty years should do it.”\n \n“Done.”\n \nI pulled a contract out of my back pocket and placed it on the table. “Sign on the dotted line, please.”\n \nHe took a knife out of his coat and moved to slice open his hand.\n \nI grabbed it. “Whoa, what are you doing? We don’t sign in blood here. Nothing so barbaric.” I gestured and a giant novelty pencil floated off the shelf. “Try this.”\n \nHe struggled to sign with it for a moment but after a moment he handed the contract back to me. I looked it over for a moment. It all seemed to check out.\n \n“Pleasure doing business, Mr. Clements. I’ll see you in twenty years.” I turned around to file the contract into a folder on the shelf, and when I turned back around, he was gone. \n \nI turned to the pencil. “Greed,” I mused, “the most beautiful of human sins.” For twenty years, Mr. Clements could enjoy his stacks of cash. But all the vacation homes and expensive cars in the world would mean nothing after a few millennia in in my basement. That was one room that wasn’t in the eye of the beholder. All they saw down there was red.\n \n***\n \nIt was ten years ago when I elected to check up on my somber friend. Disguised as a census official, I made my way to the doorstep of the house he had bought a few days after our deal. It was a sight to behold. Seeing as Mr. Clements had no need to spare an expense, he’d clearly elected not to. A stark-white exterior with some beautiful French windows on the second floor. I knocked on the door, eager to see what was inside.\n \nA young man opened the door, smiling. ‘Can I help you?” he asked. Behind him I spotted gleaming wood floors and what looked like an antique vase.\n \nI smiled back. “Hello, there! My name is Doug Maphis, and I’m with the United States Census Bureau.”\n \nHis smile turned into a frown. “Isn’t it 2008?”\n \n“We’re, uh -- we’re getting a head start this time around.”\n \n“Right.”\n \n“Can I ask, is your father home, by any chance?”\n \n“My father?”\n \n“Yes, a Mr. Clements? About yea high, stinking rich, unenthusiastic demeanor?”\n \n“I have no idea who you’re talking about. My father died six years ago in a car accident. And his name was Carl Thompson.” Well, that was unexpected. \n \n“If I may ask, Mr. Thompson -- how did you come by this house?”\n \n“It was a gift. From a charity -- The Appleby Foundation. When Dad died, things were rough. We lost our home. But the folks at Appleby...they helped.” He straightened up, seemingly annoyed that he’d revealed too much to a total stranger. “And if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to get back to my family.”\n \nWell, that was certainly an unexpected turn of events. I turned next to his original residence, once a run-down single-story home in the middle of the country. No doubt he’d turned it into paradise, and let his good deed to the Thompson family feed his ego.\n \nWhen I arrived, to my surprise, I found the same shack that my doorway had appeared in a decade prior. Neighbors confirmed that a strange old hermit of a man lived there. Nobody was home, so it was time to take a look around while I waited. Inside the house I found much of the same. It seemed as if, to Mr. Clements and his home, no time had passed. \n \nOn his dresser, however, were a few curious items of interest. Plaques and trophies, gleaming mementos that had no place amid the dusty mess. A commemoration of the James L. Fowler Intensive Care Unit at Metro General Hospital. The Stephen Byrd Baseball Field. The Adam Bowden Homeless Shelter.\n \n“Who the hell are you?” came a voice from behind me. I turned around to seem Clements, for the first time with a look of anger on his face. He was dressed in well-faded tweed suit and hat. \n \n“Mr. Clements. It’s been a while. We did some business about ten years ago.”\n \nHis anger turned to fear. “You.”\n \n“That’s me,” I replied.\n \n“It can’t be. I have ten more years.”\n \n“That you do. But I was curious.”\n \nHe ran over to the dresser and hastily threw a blanket over the awards. “You weren’t supposed to see any of this.”\n \nIt was my turn to get angry. “Are you sure about that, Mr. Clements? Are you sure you didn’t mean for me to see this? All the ‘good deeds’ you’ve done with the money I gave you? What, did you think I’d let you go if I saw how good a Samaritan you were?”\n \n“N-no,” he stammered, terrified.\n \n“Good. The deal still stands.” I turned and opened the nearby closet door. On the other side, instead of Mr. Clements’ suit coats, however, was my realm. I stepped through the door and slammed it behind me.\n \n***\nIt was two days ago that Mr. Clements’ time was up. Over the past decade, I’d softened a little to his position. Every now and again I’d check up on that little house in the middle of nowhere, and there was Mr. Clements. The city around him flourished like no other -- new medical facilities, scientific labs, schools and sports stadiums were built every year thanks to the mysterious Appleby Foundation. Not once was the name Clements mentioned in the whole city.\nSo I ignored him. I saw that his time was up and I decided to give him a reprieve -- maybe for a year, maybe indefinitely. Till then, my boss wouldn’t notice if I smudged the paperwork on one man. One day, he’d get greedy. And on that day, his soul would be mine.\n \n***\n \nIt was today that he again knocked on my door. Eager for a new client, I hurried to open it. To my surprise, as I opened the door I once more became the young man in the snappy suit. And in front of me stood a short, pudgy man, twenty years older than the last time he’d stood on that step. I was stunned.\n \n“Phil, I believe you forgot something,” he said, without emotion.\n \n“Mr. Clements, I --”\n \n“I believe the deal called for twenty years. It’s been twenty years and two days.”\n \n“I’m trying to help you out, Mr. Clements.”\n \nHe cracked a smile. “I’m afraid that’s not possible. I signed a contract.”\n \n“Oh, to hell with the contract! Get out of here before my boss sees you.” I tried to push him out the door but he resisted.\n \n“Are you saying you won’t do it? You won’t take my soul?” he asked with a look of almost childlike innocence.\n \nI hesitated. “Yes,” I finally said.\n \nHis voice deepened. “Well, then I’m very disappointed in you, Phil. I needed someone I could trust.” \n \nI blinked, and the man who was once the short, fat Mr. Clements was now several heads taller than me. And red. He looked at me for a second with all of his eyes.\n \nThe entire floor began to sink into my basement. “No,” I whimpered.\n \nHe grinned grin with far too many teeth and spoke with a voice like a thousand flames:\n\n “I’m afraid you’re fired.” And then everything went red.\n \n ***\n\nThis was my first time really doing something like this, so if there's anyone out there who reads this and notices egregious errors in spelling, grammar, or most likely proper prose formatting, please let me know. And also feel free to critique what is no doubt a very imperfect story.\n "
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[WP]You died while spleeping. Purgatory is a place where you have to face against everyone and everything you killed throught your life, usually there are just a lot of insects, but this time...
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"I just haaad to shoot a serial killer.\n\nThe Suspense crouched and unsheathed twin knives. He wore torn jeans and a bloody white sleeveless shirt, barely able to contain his obese frame. His face was covered with a paper plate mask with a bloody question mark between two eyeholes.\n\nI had taken his case about three years ago, as an FBI agent in the SVU. He had begun by sending a letter to the station, asking \"When will you arrest me?\" Everytime he killed, he used the victims blood to write \"The suspense is killing me\" on the wall. It was the sickest case I'd ever done, and no one cried at his funeral after I put a .45 in his skull.\n\nUnfortunately, I had apparantly died in my sleep and was damned to Purgatory until I defeated him again, along with a literal thousand mosquitos. (I live in Texas. What did you expect?)\n\nThe Suspense charged with his knives and slashed in a downward X. I jumped away and pulled out my handgun, emptying half of the clip in his general direction, but he vanished in a puff of shadowy smoke. (This is technically a dream world, so whatever.) I scanned the white abyss of a room before feeling and excruciating burn in the small of my back. I spun around just to lock eyes with the Suspense.\n\n\"Gotcha.\" he whispered.\n\nI raised my gun and shot him exactly where I did last time, right in the middle of the point of the question mark, smashing his jaw and tore his brain stem and spinal cord.\n\nI gasped and growled as the pain tried to cut off my reasonable thought. The Suspense used rusty knives on purpose to make the victim feel more pain, but I shouldn't have to worry about tetanus when I'm dead(I hope).\n\nI pulled out the knife, crying out once the blade left the wound, but all I had to do was concentrate and the flesh mended, leaving a scar that quickly faded.\n\nThe high-pitched whining of hundreds of small beating wings cut through the silence and I was faced with a huge swarm of mosquitos, an ungodly legion of bloodsuckers ready to drain me dry.\n\n\"Not. Today.\" I spoke through gritted teeth. I summoned a flamethrower(Because dream world) and ignited a stream of fire that disintegrated every insect it touched.\n\n\"I'm not goin' to Heaven with mosquito bites, dammit.\""
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[WP] Aliens finally land on earth. As soon as they do they do they flock to the bars. It doesn't take long to realize they all have a serious drinking problem.
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"\"Hey, grrrrrrllllll. You free tonight?\" She gritted her teeth as she read the message. \"I want to go dancing!\"\n\n\"But they will be there.\" She responded, knowing full well her friend, Gladys, wouldn't care.\n\n\"They love to dance too!\"\n\n\"Only when they get shitfaced.\"\n\n\"It's okay! We'll get shitfaced too!\"\n\n\"Can't afford it.\"\n\n\"My treat!\"\n\nCandace knew there was no getting out of this. She liked dancing and drink as much as the next 23-year-old grad student, but she hated the greys. They had shown up 3 years ago asking for peace. \n\nThey were a small group of about 3,000 aliens, and looked fairly humanoid. The men averaged 7 foot and the women were around 5 foot, so even though they looked very similar, with their sickly pallor, bright green hair, and stark white irises, you could always tell them apart. There were only about 400 females. They were nice enough, usually. Candace's dad worked at the Department of Defense, and when the first few arrived on that ridiculous cube of a ship, she got to meet them. They sent the women first, probably to make a good impression. \n\nThe story was, they had been forced from their home world when their sun started to die. They needed a place to live and had identified Earth as inhabitable. It took 2 years to draw up a treaty, but in those two years, Earth united under a global initiative to protect all Earthlings. In the end, they allowed the greys to move to Earth.\n\nThen the males arrived. Within 2 days, they had taken up resident in the small town of Taft, CA. It had about 10,000 residents before the aliens had arrived, but it had several bars, and lots of liquor stores. Turns out the greys love to drink. And fight. And party in general. They were awful at karaoke, but they seemed to love that too. \n\n**In progress. Will finish soon.**"
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[Wp] Earth has been taken over by aliens; humans have have been subjected. Our last hope... our loyal pets.
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"\"Remember all these years? Remember how many times these -Pfft- humans (he said as his face scrunched up with disgust) forgot to take us out to a walk? Forgot to give us our water and our food? OUR FREAKING FOOD!\"\nShepard continued: \"Now, my friends, dogs, cats, bunnies, giunea pigs, -heck-, even spiders! Now is our time to remind them how it is to go 5 days without eating or drinking, without even exiting THE HOUSE!\"\nThey have their hope in us. As we had our hope in them. And they failed. Absolutely and miserably failed. We avenge today my friends. Today. This will be remembered in history as the day that animals -alike aliens- arise! And take control of this god-awful planet that these monsters left behind them.\n\nHey there! If you are reading this, consider joining my subreddit! :D I am a very young (wannabe) writer and I'll be very happy if you join my community! thanks! https://www.reddit.com/r/JohnTheWriter/"
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[WP] A law is passed that allows the now sentient military robots to have a civilian life after service. You have been outfitted with a faux human body and sent to live in a state with high anti-robot sentiment.
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"\"Everyone is 'different' Xander, it doesn't make you any less deserving of happiness\" Tracy said as she carried a box filled with toiletries out to the living room and plopped it on the coffee table. \n\n\"I know YOU feel that way.\" I said, feeling constant, tickling surge of charge coming from the outlet behind me. \"But's that's how automaphobia works, not everyone feels that way.\" \n\nWe'd been packing for 6 long, anxiety inducing days. Tracy ever the optimist and me the defeatist. I asked my commander once why anyone would think it was a good idea to give an AI soldier anxiety, because I seemed to have a lot of it. He told me the anxiety comes from the programmed fear of death, without it my bravery would kill me. I knew he, nor the United States government cared about my life, they cared about the $500,000 it took to build me. \n\nOur war with the east ended a decade ago and peace was, as they'd say, imminent. Then the question came: \"What do we do with all the AI?\". Most of the bots in my platoon became bodyguards. Artificial muscle was enticing to venue owners and the tax incentive was very appealing. What was left of my platoon 'went to the farm'. That's what they called it when the bots signed away their tech and intelligence back to the government to be dismantled for parts and study. I lost a lot of good friends. I don't like talking about that. \n\nI don't know what line of code made me different from the rest but I thought beyond those two options. I digested some programming info to learn more about myself but protocol keeps me from looking at my own work-up. It worked out in my favor, though, because now I can code and troubleshoot quicker than humans. I don't even need a keyboard or monitor, I just plug right in. Realgrain Diagnostics hired me when I fixed their newest patch update in a record breaking 13.6 seconds in my interview. That brings us here, packing up my beautiful home in AI accepting Chicago to move to Georgia where they just passed a law saying that jobless AI veterans can't use public outlets to charge themselves. \n\nTracy made her way over to where I was chained to wall by my charger. She slipped her hands around my back and I lifted myself from the wall to give her arms space to hold me. \n\n\"What do you want to do?\" She asked, her voice coming from my heartbeat-less breast. \"We've already sent most of our stuff down there and the house is paid for.\" \n\n\"There's no going back\" I said, trying to sound as contently accepting as possible. \"I guess I'm more so just worried about you being in that house alone all day. I don't trust any of the people down there.\" \n\n\"You don't trust anyone.\" she said. \"How could you ever expect yourself to trust a bunch of bigots you don't even know yet?\" She had a point. We held each other for a while before it hit me. \n\n\"I think I should change my name.\" I said. \n\n\"What?!\" she popped up from my chest to look at me. She looked almost offended. \"That name has meaning, hun! It's a part of you and what you did for this country!\" \n\nYeah, but they won't see it that way.\" I said. \"I'm sure 'Squad leader Xander' sounded cool on the news but 'lead programmer Xander' makes me sound like a child prodigy, and not in a good way.\" She still looked peeved but I could see that she knew where I was coming from. \"What about... Dave?\" Her eyes narrowed. \"Sam?\" Even more narrowed. \"Xerxes?\" She broke a smile from a stifled laugh. \n\n\"Alex\" she said, putting a hand on my cheek. \"At least it's close to who you really are.\" \n\nI unplugged my charger flicked it around her waist to pull her closer into a kiss. I picked up the coffee table with a mountain of boxes on it and loaded it into the last moving truck. We did a finally walk through of the house to make sure we got everything and made our way to the car. \n\nAs pulled out our driveway, I almost hoped we would have been side-swiped. Of course we wouldn't, my peripherals were near-perfect and I knew that the closest moving car was over 400 meters away on a different street. I wanted us to stay just a little bit longer. I knew Georgia wouldn't be good for us. It wasn't an instinct, I didn't have those. All I had was calculated probability and years of trusting my evaluations of dire and dangerous situations. But I won't tell Tracy that. I could argue all day, it wouldn't change anything. We had to go, it was too late to stop it now. I wouldn't call what I had fear, but if I told Tracy about it I knew her human reaction would be to worry. \n\nI just want her to be happy. \n\n\nI don't do this very often so I hope that's okay. I'm sure this isn't how this works but if you do want to read more I'd be happy to keep going. I really like this prompt. Thanks :)"
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[WP] A place where, instead of being traditionally buried, the dead are cremated and trees are planted into them. You walk through the forest of the dead.
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"I walk through the fragrance of blossoming cherry trees, the high sun reflected thousand fold by the white blossoms.\n\nMy feet are bare on the soft grass of the path, showing my respect of those who came before. All around me, under the trees, lie my family, my ancestors, all the way back to the beginning.\n\nI walk the forest of the dead, taking in the scent of life, breathing the gift of my dead relatives. Today I am here to visit the smallest tree, planted almost a year ago.\n\nAs I am almost at my destination, I bow my head in respect and mumble a mournful hello to my grandparents as I pass their trees. I stop at my destination, kneeling beside the small tree. ”hi love.“"
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[WP] Real life doesn't have God's, but rather it has Moderators (Mods). One day, the Mods lose it, and start banning everyone who mispronounces 'gif'...
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"Here's mine:\n\n“They’ve fucking lost it, man!”\n\n“Joe, they’ve fucking lost it!” Chris bellowed into my face again within a second.\n\n“Who? What the fuck are you talking about!” I hollered back. It was not a question, but a demand. His eyes were beady, like pinpoints on crosshairs. His trepidation acted contagiously. Whatever was scaring him made my stomach tighten and my heart palpitate in my throat.\n\nHectically, “We got to go!” Chris gripped my arm and tugged as he took off like a thoroughbred out of the gates of a racetrack. I about stumbled, but recovered quickly and pumped my arms and legs in suit. We hustled down the block, people everywhere in a chaos. We ran so fast I couldn’t catch my breath enough to ask again what was going on, or where we were going. \n\nChris cut to the right on Pear Street and dashed towards the gravel path leading into the forest. I was a few paces behind and pulled up to his side with a burst of speed fueled by the unknown terror that was happening obliviously to my back. The Magnolias and Sycamores swept past us as we progressed deeper into the forest. Ahead of us was Ewe Creek, and when we got to it we climbed down the plateau along its banks and headed in the direction of Dead Dog, a popular cave in the area among the neighborhood youth. Chris and I had frequented Dead Dog back in middle school.\n\nAt the mouth of the manmade cave we came to a stop. We leaned on the rocks and panted for oxygen. “What the fuck,” I started, “is going I on?” I finished after another breath. \n\nHe raised his eyes to me, still on the cusp of hyperventilation. “The Mods…they…they’ve lost it.” \n\nI grew more frightened, but now also a bit angry. What could the Mods possibly be doing that’s so bad? “Tell me what is happening,” I commanded him almost parentally. \n\nThere was a short pause, but Chris again lifted his frightened brown eyes. Perspiration ran down his brow from atop his curly head and off of his nose. “They’re banishing people left and right.” He shook in fear. His voice trembled and was nowhere near as smooth as it usually was. Chris was a charismatic man, he always had been. I could tell that this was no joke. \n\nI asked him what the Mods were banishing people for. It couldn’t be just for no reason.\n\nHe checked the perimeter before speaking again. Chris slid in closer to me, as if he were going to tell me a secret about someone nearby and didn’t want them to hear. But we were much out of earshot of the community, and the odds of someone being in the woods at this time on a Tuesday were very low. His lips broke their seal and he said softly: \n\n“Because people are saying g—”\n\nAnd that’s all he could say. Before he could utter another vowel or consonant, he was vaporized. Poof. His body burst into a plume of dust. Only a spec of his clothing remained within the cloud that filled the air where he stood. It floated gently down to the damp ground, but I was gone deep into the cavern of Dead Dog before I could see that piece of cloth actually land. \n"
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[WP] Every year and for 24 hours, one person is chosen for a global manhunt. Whoever kills that person gains 1.000.000 $.
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"He had to run. Run as fast as he could. They were after him. It was plainly obvious to Allen from the moment that he woke up to the pain in his arm signaling the start of The Hunt. He was rushing through the forest as fast as he could to find somewhere he could hide out before dawn. \n\nEveryone when they're born have chips implanted into their heads to amplify the body and control we hold over ourselves. It connected everyone in a way similar to how the internet did a couple centuries back. \n\nSomehow this sick joke of a game got started by the world. Governments of the world weren't able to do anything without banning the chips that improved the human race. That didn't seem like a feasible option. So now once a year for 24 hours a single person is chosen, and they know it's them by the burning pain that flares in their arm. A rash in the shape of an X appears marking them as the target. Everyone through the chips in their brains gain access to the persons file and record officially beginning the hunt. The only stipulation is that no one else is to be harmed in this hunt no matter who it is.\n\n**BARK BARK BARK**\n\nAllen could hear the dogs in the distance. He had to move faster...*faster*...get to somewhere safe. He could hear his neighbors yelling to the dogs. He could see the muddy river...*Almost there* \n\nThe dogs keep trying to grab a hold of him. Lunging at him trying to grab a hold. This isn't a man fighting to stay away from the cops though...this is a man fighting to stay alive. His neighbor caught up just in time to see Allen dive into the muddy water. The shadow of a man took shots at the water but no indication he hit him, and no signal that he'd won. *Damn*\n\nAllen resurfaced as far down stream as he could swim as he held his breath. He was soaked, covered in mud, cold, but he was alive. He could feel the pain wrecking his body from the icy waters, but that pain let him know that he was still fighting. He felt his heart fill with hope. He could see the house on the hill, and the lights were on.\n\nLiz was making breakfast. It wasn't anything too special, just bacon and eggs. That was enough though. She was interrupted from her cooking by swift knocking on her back door. \n\n\"L-Liz! Liz it's me Allen!\" Liz was expecting that. When she had gotten the notification that it had begun she was felt horrible that another life was going to be hunted down for money. The biggest shock of her life came when she saw it was her younger brother who was going to be hunted. He would come to her as always when something is wrong. Siblings stick together.\n\nShe swung the door open. \"Get in quick\" she told Allen. He didn't hesitate and swiftly got into the safety of his sisters presence. The normally calm little house on the hill was hectic as they ran through closing all the blind and locking all the entrances. Allen hid himself in the cellar, she had left food down there, but he had to stay quiet and make no noise.\n\nNo quicker than he got himself hidden did a swift thumping sound through the front door. Liz knew who it was. It was obvious by the sound of the dogs. \n\nDavid look annoyed, and he should be seeing as he had to cross the muddy river and walk for awhile to get here. It should have been easy to get Allen. He was up drinking, a hit off a bottle of Jack never hurt anyone, when he got the files showing who was the target. He wasted no time at all to get his rifle and dogs, but Allen was already gone by the time he made it.\n\nNow he followed him here to his sisters house. He needed in to the house to win, but he couldn't harm Liz. They were watching. They'd know if he did anything he wasn't supposed to.\n\n\"What do you want?\" Liz asked with a bored look.\n\n\"He's in there. You can't tell me he isn't.\" \n\n\"I don't need to lie anyway. I know the rules. He's locked in the cellar and the only one that has the key is me. You can't harm me.\" A smirk played on her lips as she watch him struggle internally. \n\n\"I'll be back. The day has just started...there is plenty of time, and plenty of ways to get you out of that house.\" David said grimly. He didn't get much of a reply except for a grin as he turned and walked off towards the tree line. *Time to grab some supplies and get this over with before the others arrive*\n\nLiz locked the door back, and walked gracefully into the kitchen grabbing her fork and knife and sitting down with her breakfast. The silent question on Allen's mind, *was he gone?*, was answered as he listened to his sister hum the song their mother used to sing them to sleep with. *So peaceful*\n\nDavid was gathering kindling to start a fire. The smoke would fill the house. That'd force her out, and kill Allen at the same time. He was certain of it. If it didn't force her out then he'd just try something else. It was a game of chicken between David and Liz. *Was Liz willing to do more to protect her brother then he was to win?* He wondered very hard about that as he gather his supplies. Not long now others would be gathering trying to win the same prize as him. \n\nIt came as a surprise to everyone in the world, but it was most surprising to David as the words flashed in vision over and over. It was hard to believe what he was seeing, what had happened, but it was right there telling him the story... \n\n**HUNT COMPLETED WITH 21Hours & 53Minutes Left**\n\n\n "
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[WP] Your pets always stare off at something you can't see, just watching... nothing. One day you wake up, and you can see what they see
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"I was groggy at first. But that explains nothing; I'm often groggy after an hour-long afternoon nap, and I never saw anything like this before. In fact I only experienced hallucinations once or twice in my entire life on waking,a few seconds of hearing and seeing someone I'd expected to be there anyway. Those sounds and images were the remnants of a dying dream, the shards that barely survived to consciousness, fading away to reality in shorter time than I could have held my breath.\n\nNo, this was nothing like that. I was groggy for a moment, but these sights and sounds persisted long after my head had returned, in every other way, to waking clarity.\n\nMost of what I saw were fleeting images, ill-defined. If you ever saw a butterfly fly past your face or a leaf fall just in front of your eyes at twilight, or maybe saw a bat chasing insects through the night's sky, these brief glimpses of a poorly defined fluttering thing -- there and gone again before you even realize you saw anything -- will help you to understand my experience.\n\nBut there were differences. Leaves and butterflies are well defined in the daytime, and bats rarely share the heavens with the sun at all. Yet there I lay on my couch in the middle of the day watching such images periodically flit across the room. And those everyday phenomena move through the air near silently, the flapping of a bat's wings scarecly more audible than its screech. By contrast, as I've mentioned, this new experience could be heard as well as seen. Which is to say barely but unmistakably. The sound was unlike any I've heard elsewhere, but I compare it to the sound of water boiling in an open pot. Not quite that, but close enough. \n\nLuther watched them too. I'd previously always thought that he was hypnotizing himself, even since he was a puppy, and I loved to crack jokes about his 1000 yard stare. But now I knew. He saw them. \"How comical we must look,\" I'd thought at that moment, \"a man and his dog watching their favorite serial on a broken TV that we don't even have.\". I wondered if Luther really saw what I saw, what I thought he might be seeing. So I watched him and the room at the same time, as best I could accomplish that. And there was my proof! Whenever a flitting shadow rushed closer than the rest, Luther's head would twitch left or right almost imperceptibly, as if to follow it with his eyes.\n\nPresently the shadows began to boil louder, and there were more of them rapidly darting about the room. Then a new figure joined them. A soft yellow flourescent thing, far steadier than the gray flitting entities, entered the room and filled every corner with its warm glow. It sounded like an oboe playing softly in the distance. No sooner had it entered than my phone rang. Gina.\n\nWe talked an hour or so, and the yellow glow turned golden much of that time. These was one strange moment when I mentioned a certain ex-girlfriend and the glow went orange. It sounded like a low, harsh buzzer. After a time, though, the thing went back to its now-familiar golden hue.\n\nLuther saw this one, too. He watched it with wagging tail, then looked at me and back again. Before long, I noticed another golden glow, smaller than the first but just as bright, had joined us in that room. This one was less steady than the first, becoming intese when Luther looked at me and then fading a bit when something else caught his eye. A moment of inspiration hit me while I was still on the phone with Gina, and I reached out to the dog. The moment I began to stroke his fur, the glowing thing became brighter and added a bluish aura that blended to a tiny band of green where the blue and the gold overlapped. With the blue aura came a soft ringing, as of wind chimes in a gentle breeze.\n\nI quickly but gracefully ended my call with Gina, and I noted with great pleasure that her golden glow -- I realized by now that it really was hers -- lingered many minutes after. I wondered then if everyone was seeing these things now, or if it was just me. If Gina could see them, my glow would cause hers to glow brightly and hers cause mine to glow brightly. They would never fade. But hers did eventually fade as she surely turned to the mundane tasks of the day. This meant she did not see the glow. I might be the only person who could.\n\nAnd what are they exactly, I wondered. My best guess then, and indeed now, is that they are a combination of thought and emotion. Some people in this world hate me. But I did not see anything that seemed like hate. I guessed they would have to actively think of me for a shape to appear near me at all. The small faded gray ones must be thoughts that aren't fully formed, just passing thoughts about me or my house or Luther my dog in general. They would be almost unrecognizable even to the person who thought them, and so much the more to me.\n\nNow another shape came into the room. Luther saw it first, and he began to bark ferociously. I recognized in his behavior and in the time of day that it was the mailman coming to deliver the mail. Ordinary stuff. But this particular mail delivery was otherwise anything but ordinary. The mailman rang the bell. He must have a package for me. But as I approached the door, a large malignant shape, almost a swirling smoke of deep green and of blackness formed, and it was accompanied by the crackling sound of a campfire. Nothing soothing in this sound now; I was, for reasons I don't understand, gripped with horror at every crackle and pop.\n\nThe bell rang again, and the mailman called my name. Had he seen me inside through a window? Heard me approaching the door? Luther was barking for all he was worth, but the cloud grew more sinister and more terrible. Now the postman began to knock on the door directly. No, not knock. He was punching the door, and the greenish mass grew larger. Then he began to kick the door. Luther seemed likely to lose his mind. To his credit, the dog ran through the cloud to stand directly in front of the door, barking like his life depended on it. I, on the other hand, cowered away from it. Nothing has ever terrified me in my life like that cloud.\n\nI fled to the bedroom, leaving Luther to handle the dreadful presence outside the door, though even the dog was powerless against the far more dreadful presence inside the house. Finally, even from the bedroom, I heard a neighbor call out to see if everything was OK. I could not hear the mailman's response, but I'm sure it was a reasonable-sounding explanation. I watched through a gap in the blinds as he walked down the sidewalk to his next stop.\n\n\"So the mailman really is evil. You're a good boy, Luther, to bark . . .\" the words caught in my throat as I reached the doorway of my bedroom and saw that the green-black smoke remained and was even growing more intense. I could not see my own thoughts and emotions, but I was sure that Luther saw fear enveloping me, whatever it looks like. I retreated back to the bedroom again.\n\nSoon I will have to come out. Whether hunger or thirst or some other thing drives me out, I will have no option left to remain. It has been 2 full days since the mailman was here, but the damnable cloud remains."
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[WP] God and the Devil are dear old friends. They meet in humanity park for chess on Sundays. These are their dialogues.
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"\"Good to see you, as always.\"\n\n\"I wish I could say the same.\"\n\nThe two beings sat down at the table.\n\nGod always chose the location; today the two men played in Sydney, Australia, in 1873.\n\n\"I stopped the brimstone storm you tried to send, you know,\" God said. He moved a white pawn. The game begun.\n\nLucifer grinned slyly. \"You can't blame me for trying,\" he said, a faint hint of disgust in his voice. Any person wouldn't notice it, but Yahweh wasn't any person.\n\nSome days they played chess in a heavily populated area, but God made sure they weren't constantly disturbed. Occasionally he would bless a passerby, who naively would go home not realizing he was just spoken to directly from God. God never let Satan speak, however. Passing citizens wouldn't even notice the devil.\n\n\"So, business. You know of Brian Fitzgerald, I assume,\" Satan said, sliding his pawn forward to challenge God.\n\n\"Of course, Lucifer,\" the Lord replied. He brought his bishop to the front lines of his army.\n\n\"I heard him say something the other day. He's still one of mine, you know, and I simply loved the way he worded this. He was talking to one of yours, I believe,\" the fallen angel said, a prideful sneer causing his lip to curl. Satan pushed another pawn forward.\n\nThe son didn't respond, instead choosing to watch the board. His face didn't betray his thoughts. God pushed out his queen a few tiles.\n\n\"I've got it written right here, as a matter of fact.\" The devil snapped his fingers, causing a parchment to appear in a puff of black smoke. He slowly pressed on a pair of spectacles. He didn't need them: He was made perfectly, and had excellent eyesight. He wore them in an effort to irritate the King.\n\nSatan cleared his throat. \"Quote: 'Any God that allows children to die of hunger, or war to claim the lives of thousands every year doesn't deserve to be worshipped. The Bible is flawed, and anyone who believes it is a fool!\"\n\nThe devil couldn't help but let out half a squeal in glee. He looked to God, and with a smirk finished, \"End quote.\" He pressed a rook two squares forward.\n\nAnd then God smiled. His queen sid across the board and took a pawn. \"Checkmate,\" he said. The devil looked to the board in disbelief, but it was true; The spirit's queen threatened the demon's king, and the queen was protected by his bishop.\n\nSatan stared at God; his smile vanished.\n\n\"Lucifer, my old friend, you only look at the current circumstances. Only I know Brian's eventual eternal fate, and for my child that he debated with - that man will grow to lead well over a hundred people to my kingdom. I tell you the truth: That man will receive a great reward in heaven.\"\n\nJesus stood. \"I look forward to seeing you next week, for another game.\"\n\nSatan watched the Lord walk off, and he tipped his king over in defeat. \"One day, I vow - one day I will win,\" he grumbled under his breath.\n\nGod called back as he left, \"You know better than anyone that you can't make that promise.\"\n\nLucifer hung his head. The Lord was right, and he hated him for it.\n\n----------------\n\n*Signed,*\n\n*/r/TDWfan*"
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[WP] One day the Grim Reaper walks into your office, not for your soul, but for its Performance Review.
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"'Grim! May I call you Grim?' The skeletal head opposite gives a curt nod. 'Pull up a pew, I'm a very busy man today.' I indicate to the hard plastic chair in front of my desk. Grim tucks his cloaks under his body as he lowers himself carefully in to the seat. \n\n'What shall I do?..' He lifts his scythe and looks around awkwardly for a place leave it during our meeting.\n\n'Oh, just leave it anywhere.' I say with vague hand gesture. He tries to lean it against the desk and it falls to the floor, gouging out a section of my newly laid carpet. I give a constrained smile. Flustered, he decides to lay it across his lap instead. He coughs nervously and starts picking at his hands, the faint sound of bone hitting bone. I look down at the sheath of papers before me. \n\n'So, lets have a looky shall we?' I say reassuringly, skim reading the performance report. I pause and re-read parts of it. 'hmmm. That's interesting.' I say more to myself than anything. I glance up from the papers. Grim is looking anywhere but me. He's currently studying a picture from a recent fishing trip, one of me holding a huge prize carp. I give a small cough and sit back in my chair, Grim jumps and he's eyes snap back to mine. An uneasy smile on his pale face, all teeth. \n\n'I've had a look.' I skim back down the sheet 'I can see from this that you have a nice manner with people. You've not had any complaints from the clients. You're punctual, which I like. Your Scythe is always well maintained. That's important in this job.' I look at him with an earnest expression. He gives another smile, a more confident one this time and he sits up a little. 'Your uniform' I look him up and down 'Nice, I can see you've ironed.' He nods his head in agreement. 'Look, the only area that I have an issue with' His smile fades, and he shrinks into himself again. 'Is that you've had 6 days off in the last month? What's going on Grim? I've had to get cover in last minute. Last week the only person I could get was an agency guy, he couldn't even speak English. He made a whole heap of errors which I had to reverse. Y'know? Families who were in mourning had their dead relatives come back to life. I had to apologize profusely and give them all an extra ten years to make up for it. What an embarrassment.' I say shaking my head in disappointment. 'I know you've only been doing this a couple of hundred, thousand years but I expect better from you.' \n\n'I'm sorry sir.' He said 'It's just my dog, he's been unwell and I've been having to do trips to the vets and it's cost me an arm and a leg, and well, believe me I'd rather be earning money then spending hours at the vets, but' He was gibbering. 'I've had him since he was a puppy and he's very important to me.' He goes for his pocket to get his mobile out. Hes still talking the whole time as he's flicking through pictures. Finally he stretches his phone towards me and I can see a photo of Eric, which I'd discovered was his name, lying on some old towels. A shaved patch on his haunches held together with huge, unsightly stitches, a cone around each of his three heads. \n\nI sigh. 'Get out of here kid' I say kindly 'But next time I don't want to see this' I say indicating to the sheets of paper in front of me. \n\n'Oh thank you sir, I promise it won't happen again. Eric's doing much better.' He jumps up to shake my hand, his Scythe falling from his lap. My poor fucking carpet I think. He gathers his robes and his Scythe and heads, beaming, out of the door. \n\n'Next!' I call. A sheepish Rabbit walks in, he looks around nervously for a place to put his basket."
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[WP] Future archeologists uncover Las Vegas. As they discover the many replicas there, they become confused as to where and when it was in history.
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"I stepped out of my tent, blinking and shielding my eyes against the wild desert winds. I'd arrived in the middle of the night, so I hadn't had a chance to appreciate the barren, yet beautiful landscape. The mountains in the distance looked like they were the playthings of giants, crayons with which the Gods coloured the sand and then placed haphazardly on the horizon. \n\nI stifled a nervous giggle. I was here, I was actually here! After all the years of study and research, the time spent pouring over my thesis, I had finally been invited to join the scholars at the ancient, revered dig site of La Vega. \n\nLa Vega, the mystery of our time, named by the sign standing at the edge of the worn down city. The old books speak of a prosperous city with millions of twinkling lights, but standing here, it is even harder to picture anything thriving in this environment. I can only imagine small huts, not the grand temples being excavated piece by piece.\n\nI bounced on my toes, indecisive. Did I go get food? Or did I simply head to work? While my stomach growled for my attention, my years of curiosity won the fight and I picked my way along the trail to my work site. \n\nJodie, our team lead, was examining maps as she leaned on the scaffolding surrounding the dig site. She grinned widely as she noticed my approach.\n\n\"Dylan,\" she clasped my upper arm. \"Welcome to the dig! It is such an honour to have you join us, your thesis on the social cultures of the La Vega people was simply magnificent. Your insights regarding the worship of metal were ground breaking.\"\n\nI blushed. Never in my wildest dreams had I ever imagined Jodie Collins reading and liking my work! \"Thank you so much,\" I gushed. \"I spent years studying pictures of the strange poles found throughout the dig, and it was only once I noticed that they were all elevated that I realized they were symbolic icons for worship.\"\n\n\"We took your advice,\" Jodie replied, \"and studied the markings and residues, and it looks like they were heavily used, potentially in dramatic ceremonies. We found lubricants embedded in the hand grooves, so we are considering the theories that people must have held on to the poles for extensive period of time, circling in prayer.\"\n\nI looked at her, shaking my head in amazement. \"I would have loved to have seen the ceremonies...do you think they sacrificed virgins? Have you found any alters?\"\n\nJodie nodded. \"We've found strange platforms with thousands of small buttons and cords, but they don't seem to be sacrificial in nature. They have been found all over La Vega, typically in what seems to be large, decorated rooms. You'll have to take a look, but in the meantime...\" She stepped into opening in the scaffolding and beckoned me to follow her. I held my breath and entered the site.\n\nWe were in a huge basin surrounded by short, crumbling pillars. Strange metal pieces were being unearthed by students throughout the space, but the activity was secondary to the massive stone castle rising above it all.\n\n\"The O,\" Jodie said, waving her hand at the building. \"Named for the incredible amount of items emblazoned with the letter 'O' found inside. Based on the depictions found throughout the city, this was where La Vega youth came to prove their manhood by throwing themselves from the roof of the building into the churning waters of a lake, often in elaborate costumes.\"\n\nWe walked across the basin and carefully made our way up the rocky steps. \"We believe this was the private residence of a man named Terry Benedict,\" Jodie continued. \"There are conflicting reports that name Steve Wynn as the owner, but history seems to favour Benedict as the cold, calculating man of La Vega.\"\n\nAs we entered the grand hallway, I gasped. Millions of shards of multicoloured glass littered the floor. \"This is even more beautiful than the pictures!\" I exclaimed. \"Have you uncovered any more clues as to the grievous event that happened here?\"\n\nJodie tapped her chin thoughtfully. \"There are a multitude of statues located across the road at dig site 'C', all depicting ancient gods and goddesses. People have joked that this was a temper tantrum by those gods. They wished they could live in this beautiful palace, but when Benedict turned them away, they conjured shards of glass and flung them at the O. However, a magical hot air balloon protected Benedict, changing the colour of the glass, and it fell peacefully to the ground. And then the balloon carried Benedict into the sky, which was when the La Vegeans built towers, commemorating his ascent.\" \n\n\"Ah, the twisted heap at site B and the one located north of here,\" I nodded. \"It's an interesting theory, but purely myth and speculation.\"\n\n\"Absolutely,\" Jodie agreed. She paused, hands on her hips. \"So, where would you like to explore during your time with us? The great volcano? One of the torturous mazes filled with curious knick knacks of all kinds?\"\n\n\"I'd love to take a look at the ocean,\" I said. \"One of my cohorts back at university is trying to identify the river from the pacific that fed the body of water here. It must have been mighty if ships sailed on it.\"\n\n\"It's a curious sight,\" Jodie said thoughtfully. \"I'll put you on the crew for a spell, and then you can switch around.\"\n\n\"I appreciate the opportunity,\" I said gratefully. \"Has there been any further information found in regards to the ruler of La Vega?\"\n\nJodie shook her head. \"We've found many effigies of young women, but cannot narrow it down to a single queen. We have surmised that the La Vegeans were obsessed with youth, as all art is centred around young women, saluting the sun by removing their clothes.\" \n\n\"What a curious culture,\" I mused. \"Well, I look forward to studying it first hand with you, Jodie!\" We shook hands vigorously. \"Who knows?\" I gestured to the ruins around us. \"Maybe we will hit the jackpot...\"\n\nR/dieKarrotte\n\n"
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[WP] The world is actually flat, and you are the leader of the fringe round-earthist movement.
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"I stood, for I had no other choice.\n\nThere was nothing in the tiny, dank room but blackness, blood, pain, and the faint echoes of other men, probably in much the same situation as myself.\n\nMy arms were bound high above my head, my legs tied to the ground, and a small steel spike sat, jutting out of the wood that I was strapped to, just above the small of my back. If I tried, I could keep it from digging into my bare skin.\n\nI couldn't keep that position up, though. Sooner or later, I would fall back into the razor-point of the spike, and my blood would paint the wall I was tied onto once more. After three days tied here, my back was already raw and bleeding and the hot liquid was streaming almost constantly down my legs. In the course of three days, it was joined by other fluids, the other needs of a man to fulfill.\n\nSuddenly, there was light.\n\n\"Are you ready to admit it?\" asked the cold-voiced, bald-headed, clean-shaven, and possibly most importantly gun-holding man who stared at him.\n\n\"Admit what?\" I spat back at him, a little bit of red in the saliva. No one had bothered to explain why they carried me off into this Inquisition-esque chamber in the middle of the night.\n\n\"Admit that the earth is flat, and that it remains anchored in the void as the sun spins around us.\"\n\nI should've known that was why.\n\nThe suits always said that the world was flat, but it just didn't make any sense. If the world was flat, then why didn't boats fall off the edge? Why did gravity work?\n\nIt made no sense.\n\n\"I woOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAGH,\" I howled as he kicked my leg, making me recoil backwards, and thrust my back into the spike, straight through my raw and bloody scraps of skin.\n\n\"I will be back,\" he warned in his dead little voice before he walked back out as quick as he came, the little bit of light that had burned my eyes snuffed out, and my vision still red from the pain.\n\n---\nIt was three weeks before he returned.\n\nI was no longer chained to the spikeboard. Instead, I was on the roof. Below me was a bed of similarly sharp spikes, above me the safety of the ceiling. Every time I took a breath, I could feel the blood traces being drawn on my stomach if I didn't force myself flag against the stone and iron I was attached to.\n\nI had forgotten that it could get worse, and then he entered, flooding the room with stinging light and then saying in his emotionless drawl, \"Are you ready to admit it?\"\n\nI was ready.\n\nI breathed in, felt the scrape of the spikes against my stomach, and spat into his eye.\n\n\"The world is round.\"\n\nThe cold, empty visage broke for only an instant, and I felt the barrel of the gun rest against my left temple.\n\n\"You. Are. Wrong,\" he intoned with a sort of gentle but deranged menace, inching ever closer, letting me feel his breath on my face. \"The earth is flat. You are spreading propaganda. Propaganda is dangerous. The earth is flat, and it remains stationary, anchored in the void as the sun and the planets spin around it.\"\n\nI took a deep breath and thought back.\n\nThree and a half weeks of isolation gave you time to think.\n\nI flipped my eyes up to meet his, smiled, and said, \"E pur si muove.\"\n\n---\n\n---\n\nHey! This is /u/storymcwriteface here, and I've started a quest to respond to at least a prompt a day for (barring anything unforseen) a year. Feel free to check out /r/storymcwriteface if you want to follow my quest to do so. Thanks!\n"
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[WP] You've been sent back in time by the United States government to kill Hitler. As you're about to carry out the deed, another man appears claiming he's from a dystopian world where Hitler was killed, and urges you not to do it.
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"It was the 19th of March, 1933. Four days before the enabling act. Which was the vote that allowed Adolf Hitler to make his own laws. It was the day he became the dictator of Germany. \n\nI arrived at the Kroll Opera House, Berlin in the back of a small military vehicle, wearing the new Nazi uniform. It was a dark shirt tucked neatly into the pants. My neck was cuffed tightly in a navy tie. The coat was heavy and decorated with various buttons and badges. I looked down to my left arm to see the red and black cross wrapped around my bicep. I felt sick just wearing the outfit. But It was my camouflage. \n\nThe mission was simple, eliminate Hitler. \n\nTime travel is a strange sensation and takes months to complete. I was sent from the basement of the white house 2 months ago and arrived here last week. Armed with the necessary uniform and documents, along with a large heavy bag weighted with a fold-able scoped rifle, I made my move. \n\nGetting inside was simple. I walked steadily and with fierce determination in my face towards the gates of the building. The outside was guarded by six low level officers. They immediately bowed and saluted upon seeing the badges pinned to my chest. 'Offizier.' they said cowardly. I nodded and proceeded past without reducing stride.\n\nMy mind was clear. I sat upon the south west roof of the building and unpacked my rifle. Aimed directly at the center stage where he would be standing. I set the lens, checked the wind speed, none. I propped it against its stand and sat back. Now I wait.\n\nJust as I lit up a smoke and took a drag, dots on the ground below flooded around the stone statue which stood outside the main doors of the building. \nCigarette in mouth I nudged closer to the scope and scanned. \n\nThere was hundreds of men. High ranking officers, majors, soldiers, war veterans and politicians. They stood aside to form a long hallway of bodies leading to the platform. Hitler strolled through with confidence. Excitement ran through my veins as I saw him make his way to the stand. I was about to make history. To stop the most evil man who's ever lived. Soon his face would be unrecognizable. This asshole would lay limp on the floor. \n\n\nMy rifle could hit a direct target at over 1.439 miles. Just one of the .408 rounds will soon travel from my fingertips at over 3000 feet per second to rupture this vile creatures skull. Spreading his brains all over the high commanding officers saluting from behind. \n\nHe began his speech when suddenly, out of thin air, a thin ragged looking man appeared next to me. \n'Please! Wait! Do not shoot this man! The world will go into chaos within a few years. Billions will be killed!' Hitler raised his hand to the crowd. 'Heinrich Himmler will seize power and will commit crimes Hitler himself could not imagine. He is the devil incarnate. He has single handed destroyed our planet, you must trust me!'\n\nI took a drag of my cigarette and pondered a moment. I smiled. 'Fuck you.' I whispered, looking down at my scope I pulled the trigger. Adolf's entire upper body burst like a celebratory firework. A heavy wet cloud of red exploded across the stage. \n\nThe man fell to his knees and wept. 'What have you done?' \n\nI turned to him. \n\n'Dein Englisch ist sehr gut, fast perfekt.'\n\n'Your English really is very good, ya hit the consonants a tad hot though.'\n\n\nLemme know if ya got the reference :P\nAlso Let me know what you think,this is my first writing prompt, did you enjoy/ were you bored? Advice appreciated :) ",
"The coffee was different. That’s what was getting to me. Four days sitting in a coffee house , waiting for the Fuhrer to turn up. Back in 2017, they had given me everything I needed. The best psychologists had tracked his every move. The historians had predicted the lasting effects. The economists had made the final decision. \nIt was January 1910. Snow was heavy on the ground, turning to slush in the street where Adolf Hitler was soon to tread. He was on his way to a shelter down the road and he would pass right by this coffee house. That was when I would kill him.\nMy gun was loaded. I had six bullets for Hitler and a cyanide capsule for me. When it was done, I needed to disappear, become another dead body on the winter streets of Vienna. Snow had built up against the window I was sitting at and a skein of frost covered it, but I would still recognise him, blurred as everyone was.\nI didn’t take notice of the man when he sat down opposite me with his own cup of coffee and cigarillo already lit. When he cleared his throat, I looked up at him irritably, taking in his finely tailored suit and well-cropped beard. The eyes are easily taken by the obvious though, and mine flicked first to his Rolex, then to the slight bulge beneath his coat on the left side. A holstered pistol. Like me, and the others before him, he was reluctant to leave the future behind. Then they noticed his light hair and rectangular jawline. His blue eyes and shaped nose.\n“Morning,” he greeted me. I smiled back. It was an odd moment of comfort, of nostalgia, to see someone from my time. He was from another timeline though. The wormhole opened only once, and they all seemed to converge here. Or rather, the 14th of July 1907. I had recorded the time and date, as had already been recorded for me, by me, in the past. It was odd, reading my own antique writing, but I knew it was my duty. I must kill Hitler.\n“Morning, pal. Good one?”\n“Not been bad. I assume you’re here for the same reason?” He grinned suggestively. I knew what he meant.\n“To kill the Fuhrer? That’s why we’re all here, isn’t it?” He knew me, as I knew him. Some subtle signal that told him I wasn’t from this time. Another traveller from 2017 to 1907. \n“Bloody hell, mate, the Fuhrer? I can’t believe you still call him that” Some still came uneducated, in suits, wearing anachronisms. One of them even had a stretcher in his ear. This one had a British accent.\n“Well, we don’t like to say his name. Mind if I ask where you come from?” It was a common question, as I had learnt. This was a turning point, and all histories so far had split from here. The first man I had met was over a hundred. His world had no poisons. He had been sent here to die. His last wish was companionship and he had spent all the money he had seeking others from his time. A tragedy.\nMy companion looked sheepish. “That’s why I’ve come, I’m afraid. Sorry to get right to the point but I know what you’re going to do and I’ve been sent here to stop anyone killing Hitler.”\nI looked at him incredulously. He had to die, there was no other way. Our world would be different without him, millions of people would be dead and his name would be a byword for evil. It could not happen.\nHe saw it all in my eyes. He knew what I must be going through, that I had to kill him, or disobey my superiors. He was the worst of them all though. Not the most set in his ways, nor the stupidest I had seen. Just the least convincing. He stuttered and stumbled over his words. We had all been here for three years, all met each other coming through the same portal. We all saw each other again. We knew what happened. But some were still better suited to the job\n“I come from a world where Goering wasn’t injured in 1937.” He lowered his voice to pronounce the Fuhrer’s name. “Hitler was killed and Goering took over. Goering was much more efficient than we predicted Hitler could have been. He made the Russians join the Nazis and they won. They won the war. Mengele, you know, the twisted guy who did those experiments, he was allowed to do them publicly and eventually made everyone ‘Aryan’”. He said the last word with finger quotes. “He engineered everyone who wasn’t and made them sterile. Awful lot of government-arranged marriages as well.” \nI shook my head in disbelief. A world where everyone was ‘perfect’? Impossible. It couldn’t happen. I always considered my world technologically advanced, and we had nothing of the sort. We couldn’t even end genetic disorders. We argued endlessly over morals and ethics. We wasted time.\nHe irritated me. I couldn’t cope with his stuttering any longer. I felt my eye twitching as it always did when I encountered a weak proletariat. He was the second I had met from a defunct timeline, one that didn’t deserve to exist. He would fade out of existence in a few minutes. I shifted my gaze to the window.\nI saw him then, as I knew I would, the dishevelled man walking down the street, clutching a threadbare coat to his thin shoulders. His beard and moustache had grown out but I had seen his image enough to recognise him. Adolf Hitler. Mein Fuhrer.\nThe Schwächling was still rambling. “We are a solely Christian people. Other cultures are dead and gone. The Islamics are tolerated, but the Juden haven’t existed in nearly eighty years They’re on the verge of being extinct.”\nI held up a hand to silence him, pulled my revolver from my holster, pointed it at the man outside and fired six shots through the glass. “Isn’t that the point?” I asked with a grin.",
"I listened to his long story about how we had all been lied to and the world was a specific way because thats how it was meant to be. Soon he began to talk to me about paradoxes and other time things. I quickly became bored and zoned out. I woke up in a cold cell, with no light. I was only wearing a rag, I tried to to escape using any means when I heard a heartless German voice saying, \"We will let you out when you are ready to tell us who sent you and why.\" I spat at him saying \"Never you low life scum!\" The man calmly replied \"As you wish... I hope you are content with our one meal a day of one loaf of bread and 3/4 of a gallon everyday.\" Soon I was stuck in a dark world with nothing but my own thoughts.\n\n40 days later, I was lying in my cell shivering, not knowing if I was dead or alive, when the same man came in asking me \"Will cooperate with us?\" Too weak to reply, they carried me away from my cell which contained my excretions and rats. They gave me a warm bath and treated me to a feast fit for kings. Then he asked me \"Are you going to tell me?\" I simply shook me head, and he sighed. Looking at me he said, 'Beat him and throw hm back into his cell.\" After being almost killed I was heaved into my cell where the rats continued to eat my feet and I took solace in my excretions.\n\nThis repeated every 40 days until one day they stopped coming all together. My weak body and mind resorted to killing rats, eating them and remembering of a strong, bright object. This object I longed for though I did not know what it was. One day I heard shouting and feet running down the stairs. Men turned on flashlights and light flooded the dark, cold, unforgiving jail. Men came towards my cell and opened it, thinking of the bright light and preparing myself to be hit I winced. The carried me up, up towards a unknown land. Suddenly my whole world exploded in light and I hissed. I slowly opened my eyes once the pain disappeared and I saw the bright light, the object and I asked the men what the object was. They said \"That's the sun.\" as if they were unimpressed, bored, expected more of this so called \"Sun'. But the \"Sun\" was my everything, my life had finally been fulfilled. My enveloped in warmth and soon I was an even bigger light, one of love and compassion and I knew I had died.\n\n",
"'The assassination of Hitler in late 1943 elevated Herman Goering to the top of Nazi hierarchy. Vain, narcissistic, and misguided about the strength and potential of his beloved Luftwaffe, Goering redirected the Reich's waning but still vast resources towards the development of a Final Weapon to force a peace settlement with the Allies.' \nThe man paused, staring into the distance. Then he continued, 'The Tiger tank programme was halted, and all resources and research redirected towards the V-rockets and nuclear fission research.\nThe Eastern front was abandoned, with monumental losses along the entire front. France and the low lying countries were effectively evacuated, as was Italy, Greece, and North Africa.'\nHitler stirred, and I knocked him out, again. The thin, malnourished man who had appeared as if out of nowhere shouted 'No! Stop, don't kill him, please just listen. Goering's plan was a complete disaster, initially. Millions of casualties along the Eastern Front. Prize territories in Western Europe abandoned, with nothing to show for it. He was facing daily challenges to his leadership, but miraculously, he survived all challenges.'\nA siren started it's ominous wail somewhere outside, beyond the thick walls of the Fuehrer bunker in Berlin. It was soon joined by others and the predictable rumble of thousands of bombs detonating.\n'The Allies could not agree on a strategy to respond to Goering's Retreat, as it became known. Stalin's forces in the East slowed their march towards Berlin in anticipating of a major counter offensive, and were wary of the German encirclement tactics which had proven so effective earlier in the war. The liberation of Leningrad allowed Stalin to launch an attack on Finland, which would prove disastrous, and delayed the march on Berlin by at least 6 months.\nIn the West, France was now completely under the control of the Vichy regime, which immediately declared itself neutral and ceased any remaining military activity.\nWhile the Allies were regrouping to respond to the Goering Retreat, Germany moved quickly to extend its lead in rocketry and made dramatic advances in nuclear capabilities.\n'While the Allies launched a Western invasion, landing on the beaches of Normandy in April 1944, Germany unveiled the V3, and shortly thereafter the V4 rockets.\nThe V4 was a long range intercontinental missile. Initially armed with a combination of high explosive incendiaries. The first V4s successfully struck Washington D.C., New York, and Moscow in May of 1944. \n'By this time, Stalin's delayed but massive armies were 50 miles from Berlin and set to take all of Germany in weeks, ahead of any American or British forces.\nThe successful detonation of a small nuclear fission device on the Island of Bornholm in the Baltic see in late May, emboldened Goering to seek a Peace settlement.\nHowever, in these final days of the war, communication lines were broken, and in any case the recordings of the detonation were lost, most likely the ship transporting the films was sunk.'\n'Stalin's forces entered Berlin on May 30th, 1944, and as they ran the steps of the Reich Chancellery, Goering authorised the launch of a V4, armed with a 10 kiloton nuclear device. \n'The target, we now know was Moscow. The bomb obliterated central Moscow including the Kremlin and the KGB headquarters. Stalin although planned to be visiting troops in Poland, had decided last minute to stay in Moscow and was killed along with more than half a million civilian and military casualties.\nIt was too late, even with the destruction of Moscow, German had lost the war. There were no more V4s, and their ability to produce nuclear warheads was lost when the supply of hard water from Norway was disrupted, and the underground enrichment facility sabotaged.\n'The aftermath left Europe occupied by Soviet Russia, who captured all of the V3, and V4 rocket scientists, and also recovered most of the research from the nuclear research facilities in Berlin and elsewhere.\n'In Moscow, the Soviet state apparatus recovered and under Beria, the head of the secret police, several purges ensued, placing Beria in charge.\nBeria quickly understood the power of the V4 the nuclear program. Within months of the fall of Berlin, three more V4s had been produced and launched, obliterating downtown Tokyo, Birmingham, England, and Detroit. \nThe Western Allies had no choice but to accept Soviet terms for a global peace, which included the capitulation of Japan, however to the Soviet Union, not to America. \nSince 1945, the world has been in the iron grip of Soviet Russia, and it only got worse from there.\nSo please, don't kill him'. ",
"The gun trembled in my hand as the young child who would some day grow to be a monster stared up at me, crying. Could I really do this? \n\n\"Don't think about the task before you, think about the future you're making.\"\n\nThe training only gets you so far. It gets you to where I was then. Holding the gun. Shaking. Terrified that this would never leave me. That it would ruin me. But then it hit me. Could I let genocides be carried out to assuage my guilt? \n\nResolution. My eyes went cold, the tears stopped. I thought of the atrocities this child would commit. The gas chambers, the ovens, the scratches on the walls. And then...the things that weren't in the history books, the things we never heard about. My imagination went wild. I steadied my breathing. My finger once resting upon the trigger was now gently squeezing. I closed my eyes, I waited for the bang. It came, and then a strange noise, like a ricochet. \n\nA steaming man in rags holding a large chunk of iron stood before me. A bullet dent marked where my gun had fired. He looked malnourished, and he had a strange tattoo on his neck. He had a short buzz cut, too short. I could see spots where the clippers cut into his scalp. Bald patches. He bled for a while before some of them clotted. He was filthy, and he looked terrified.\n\n\"Stop. You can't.\" He panted. \n\n\"You can't be serious.\" I said. \"I had just worked myself up to it. Do you know what that takes?\" \n\n\"I do. Yes. And many others do...in the age I'm from. It's not your age. You think doing this will make things better, but it won't. It will make them worse than you can imagine.\"\n\n\"What are you talking about? And who are you? Where is your exosuit? You know you can't go through again without one, you're lucky to have made it through the gravitational shearing without any broken bones the first time. What are you doing here? I was sent back here to kill this boy. Now you have to let me do it. You know what the world becomes if I don't.\"\n\n\"The world isn't that bad in your age. Not compared to mine. I only know this because of you. Your node.\" The man in rags held up a cross hung around his neck.\n\nI grasped the cross around my neck. It was the same cross. We always had to disguise our node when jumping. They told me the Christian cross would be the best hiding place for it in this era. It was a sort of digital dog tag. An archive of history up to the point of our departure. Our identifying information, images, videos. It was a massive archive that we wore at all times so we could be uniquely tracked in the event of our deaths or loss in time. If something went wrong, if our pickup didn't work out, we were supposed to bury it in predetermined check points so that it could be dug up in the future, where someone could find out what went wrong that caused our entrapment in the past, or possible death, and correct it. Since the implementation of the nodes there had been no more wayfarers, travelers lost to time.\n\n\"How did you find my node? I never buried it.\" I asked.\n\n\"That's right. But if you shoot this boy, you'll never be able to go back. I was on a team. I worked for the directorate. At first we were just looking for anomalies, temporal disturbances, but then we found you. You're practically glowing with the tachyons you've got. They're not from this time. And they certainly weren't from my age. You were easy to find. Like a lighthouse in fog.\"\n\n\"What do you mean you found me? You found my node? Who are you? Where are you from? When are you from? What is the directorate?\" I asked.\n\n\"You've got to listen to me. The directorate is what happens when you kill Hitler.\"\n\nMy target was terrified to move. He looked more confused now than before and began sobbing harder. I steadied my aim. Past the man in rags.\n\n\"Please! Please listen!\" The man in rags screamed. \"If you kill him, the world never sees true evil. If you kill him, we do not learn from the mistake of letting him live, and we let so much worse happen. Without him, humanity is blind to the evil that man is capable of! The United States military, without World War 2...it never evolves. It can't defend us from these threats. And we can't defend the world from them. Not like in your age...your timeline. When you killed Hitler, you changed the future. Now, you're not supposed to do that. You know that. It's your prime directive isn't it? Listen, I don't know what made you and your team go rogue, but you're destroying the world. Tyrants take over. The directorate is what rules the western hemisphere. It's a combination of religious extremists and rich politicians of the worst kind. They take power in the early 60s. They begin making strong moves in 1970. By 1980 they've expanded to include Canada as the 51st through 55th states. By 1990 they've got Mexico. By 2010 they have all of South America too. The east tried to resist them. They're stronger over there. But their war machine was too much for the western impoverished countries, so they recognized that, and headed to Africa. They don't even see Europe as an obstacle. Just an eventuality. They know how to play the long game. They're coming for the last scraps of the free world. Russo-Europe is holding its line but not for long. In my time, it's almost all over. The directorate does nothing but exert power, and destroy, all while claiming they're trying to unite the world. Directorate soldiers are fanatics, their highest ranking are only the most nationalistic mouth frothing mad dogs for the homeland. This is the future if you kill this boy. THIS is the world you're creating. A world that never knew Hitler, that never knew how bad things can get. I read your files. I know your world was a paradise compared to mine. You developed time travel to save the world, in my age we developed it to take the world over.\"\n\nI was shocked. Could this be right? Did the world really NEED Hitler as a measuring post? A perfect example of what totalitarian rule and facism look like? Could it be that simple? And how did he even get here?\n\n\"How did you even get here?\" I asked. \"How did you get here, how did you get my cross, how do you know everything about MY timeline if you're from a different one...explain that to me huh? Or else how do I know you're not just crazy? How do I know you're not just a WAYFARER gone mad after years of being trapped in the past?\" I asked.\n\n\"I guess technically I am a wayfarer now. I can never go back. Doesn't matter if you shoot the kid or not. I destroyed the machine on my way through. And a considerable section of a directorate base. If you don't shoot him I'll cease to exist. I only do exist because you just found the resolution in yourself to kill the boy. I'm basically a quantum possibility. We knew time travel was possible because of your node. We found your body while searching the world for temporal anomalies, we figured if time travel was invented in the future, there might be people who have traveled back. So we found you, in your grave, with your cross. We pieced some of the technology together by reverse engineering images of you in your lab with your team. We found out about your history and found that the only difference in our timeline and yours was your mission to kill Hitler. The directorate recognized that it was only a possibility, so I convinced them they needed to send someone back to actually pull the trigger in the event that you didn't. Then I was reported for discussing what it might be like if Hitler had lived, what the world was like on your side. They threw me into a hard labor camp. But I got free, I got back to my lab, and I pulled the pin on a thermonuclear grenade and jumped through. You have to believe me. Just put the gun down. Please.\"\n\nMy stomach was in knots. He was right. God help me he was right. I put the gun down. How could we have been so foolish? To think changing the timeline would somehow result in a better one....\nThe guy in rags was now looking at his hands, waiting for himself to dissolve or fade away.\n\n\"First law of temporal traverse: Time has no effect on matter. You can't be destroyed just because you were never born. Time has no mechanism for this. You came back before your timeline. It is no longer this timeline but it still exists. We still aren't sure where, but...somewhere. You were never just a possibility.\" I said. The man looked a mixed combination of terrified, relieved, and overjoyed. \n\n\"So where do I go now?\" He asked. \n\n\"Come back with me. I believe we could learn a lot from each other. And that node around your neck has been recording. So we have a complete record of your Timeline's history we'll need you to fill us in on.\" I told him. \n\nHe looked incredibly thankful. He just put his hand on his head and his eyes welled up. \n\nJust then the child, whom I had almost forgotten about began crying again. \n\n\"Get out of here.\" I barked at him as I holstered my gun. \n\nThe child stopped. He was breathing heavily. He raised up, both arms at his sides. His knuckles white as blank canvas. He gave me a look...filled with so much rage that I stepped back a bit. He then ran off away from us.\n\n\"I feel like I just watched a monster being born.\" I said, sad, confused, and unsure of my actions.\n\nThe man had a single phrase to offer me as comfort.\n\n\"The devil you know.\"",
"This was it. This was the moment I had been training for throughout my entire military career. If I pulled this off, I was going to be a hero. The man who saved six million Jews and prevented the greater part of Europe from falling into economic ruin. \n\nI loaded my Browning and prepared to walk into the Vienna classroom where a young Adolph Hitler sat taking a painting exam. Failing the exam would be the least of his worries today. \n\n\"Stop right there!\" a wavering voice called over my shoulder. \n\nI turned to see an elderly man rushing down the hallway towards me. He didn't look like Italian police, nor did he look like another U.S soldier from my timeline. His clothes were modern but tattered and dirty. As he came closer I could see his face... my face. It was as if I were looking into a mirror and had aged forty years. \n\n\"Don't do it!\" He said, panting. \"Don't kill Hitler.\"\n\n\"Who sent you?\" I asked. He looked like me, but much older. And he smelled quite awful. \"Are you me?\" \n\n\"Yes. Yes, of course I'm you, fool. Now listen,\" he repeated slowly. \"Don't kill Hitler.\" \n\nI stared at this aged version of myself incredulously. \"That's the whole reason I'm here. I'm going to prevent World War II.\"\n\n\"Listen, you fool,\" he spat as he spoke and tiny flecks of spittle peppered my cheek. \"You can't prevent the war. Only delay it. The timeline you'll create, my timeline, is much worse than the original. Do you think that young anti-Semite in there is the only megalomaniac that came into power? Oh no, no, no, no. There were many more after him. But the precedent had been set, you see. We had learned from our mistakes and vowed never to let it happen again. Without that genocidal Charlie Chaplin in there, there is no precedent!\"\n\n\"So you just want me to let six million innocent people die?\" \n\n\"We must make sacrifices for the greater good. In my future there is no Israel, no United Nations,\" The elder-me replied. He hiccuped loudly and then produced a small metal flask. He took a large swig from it and then extended it toward me. Reluctantly I accepted. \n\nGreat. In the future I was a drunk. \n\n\"I don't know... this is a big decision. What else happens?\" \n\n\"Without the pressures of war, technological advances crept along. Former tech giants - Apple, Google, Amazon - cease to exist. Without the existence of social media, Donald Trump was never elected. North Korea beat us to developing nuclear weapons and-\" \n\n\"Wait a minute. Did you just say Trump never became president?\" \n\n\"Yes, that's correct, my dear boy, now you see-\" \n\nI took a gulp from the flask, cocked my pistol, and stepped into the classroom.\n\n\"Stand aside, drunken old me. I've got an Austrian art student to kill.\" ",
"I had him kneeling in front of me, his eyes closed tightly, his eyebrows pressed together, I could only drool when I imagined that disgusting moustache bathing in his own blood.\n\n\"It's hilarious and shocking to see such a monster almost crying for his life.\" I said, placing the cold steel of my gun against his forehead. \"Any last words?\" \n\nHe opened his eyes abruptly, \"the German people will complete my task, with or without me. Do it, I'm not afraid of death, I met her many times and she always avoided me, how can I be afraid of something that fears me?\" He said sprinkling saliva all over the floor.\n\nI won't lie, shivers ran down my spine when I heard him saying that, he had to die.\n\nI retracted the hammer of my revolver, he knew that noise very well. \"Farewell motherfucker.\" I said with a wide smile on my face.\n\nThe sound of a bullet hitting it's target echoed like a thunder across the bunker's tiny room followed by the noise of steel hitting the ground.\n\n*\"Don't do it, it's a huge mistake.\"* Said an unknown voice behind my back.\n\nI was paralyzed, my revolver laid shot in the cold ground. \"Who are you, how did you enter here?\"\n\n\"I'm the Agent Malcowick, I come from a dystopian world where Hitler was killed, my job is to prevent your people from making the same mistake we made.\" He said as he walked towards me while accomodating his black glasses.\n\n\"I don't buy it, how can killing this monster be a bad idea? He's a genocide, the world most despised being in the whole history.\" I asked, confused.\n\nAgent Malcowick stood next to me, he had atleast 5 inches on me, he wore an all black intimidating outfit. \"If he dies, a man named Terenberg will take his place, he won't commit a single war mistake, he will conquer Russia forcing the USA to take action along with the Allies to try and defeat the Third Reich but they will get obliterated. The entire world will become a tyranny where only the purest will be allowed to live.\" He said, his voice cracked many times. \n\nI turned to him, \"How can I trust you, how do I know that you aren't a timetraveller Nazi?\" I asked with defying eyes.\n\nHe took a deep breath and slowly took his suit and shirt off. His whole body was sealed with burns in the shape of swastikas, he took off his glasses and he had yet another where his right eye once was. \"They tortured me for not being pure enough, all my life, they don't have mercy on anyone, they will torture and murder children, adults and old people. Don't kill him. It's not worth it.\" He said struggling to hold his tears, pain came from off his voice.\n\nI nodded, \"I will report back to my superiors, thank you Malcowick.\"\n\nSuddenly, a loud noise of another shot shattered my eardrums, a river of blood tarnished my leather shoes. Hitler corpse laid beside me, my revolver between his hands.\n\nI looked at Malcowick and he looked at me.\n\n\"Fuck.\"\n\n-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nIf you enjoyed please check my /r/chasisoxidado for more!",
"Just get though today. It's Friday and I need a drink. Just keep your head low and get through today. No waves today.\nOh no, what do they want? This can't be good. My reports are current, I was on time today. I am nobody. Why are they coming towards me. Maybe they will turn and go talk to Carl. I hate Carl. Make his day bad, not mine. Of course they walk right up to me.\nInstead of talking to me, they usher me quickly through a hallway I didn't even know existed and into a white room without windows. A fairly small room that appeared to be as sterile as an operating room but with only a single metal chair in the middle. I hear over a speaker somewhere in the walls to take a seat.\n\"You have been tasked with eliminating a threat. You will be sent back to 1923 to remove this threat while he is in prison for a failed coup. This is a one way trip. Thank you for your service. Your target is Adolf Hitler.\"\nWhat? How? I thought we sold insurance. \n Why me? Why not some highly trained assassin. I am but a lowly desk jockey in a cubicle. \nWhy me? Was it my ability to speak German? Nope, can't do that. Was it my ability to blend in wherever I am? Nope, I stick out like a sore thumb no matter where I go. Maybe it was my ability to improvise no matter the situation. Wait, didn't I skip dinner last night because the recipe called for sour cream and I couldn't figure out a replacement? \nOk, now I don't know why they chose me. Why me?\nThis is probably a joke anyway. Probably Carl. God I hate Carl. Keying his car would make me feel better. \n\"Alright, Lets get this show on the road,\" I say overly sarcastic taking my seat. \"I'll kill Hitler.\"\nNo response. \nSuddenly the chairs restraints appear out of nowhere locking my legs and arms into place.\n\"We suggest you don't move during the process,\" the invisible speaker voice cautions. \"Thank you for your service,\" it says again.\n\"Alright, this has gone on long enough. Carl, let me out you jackass.\"\n\"Thank you for your service,\" it says again.\n\"FUCK YOU CARL.\" Now I am mad. \"LET ME OUT\"\n\"I am afraid we cannot do that, you have already given your consent.\"\nI am starting to hear an almost mocking tone coming from this invisible box.\n\"I did no such thing!\"\nThe voice bellows out a maniacal laugh.\n\"You did read the terms of agreement, right???\"\nOh shit. This isn't happening...\nSuddenly the lights begin flickering, strobing, disorienting me. Whooshing noises all around me. I'm dizzy, confused, sickly and can't see anything.\nJust as quickly as it starts, it ends.\nNo longer in the clean white room, instead a dark, damp concrete hallway. Lights dim and the smell. Oh God the smell. I can't put my hand on it. Wait, it smells like the alleys behind my favorite bar. Piss. Tons of piss. God it smells.\nThis has to be a prison. I guess it worked. I must be in the prison they said Hitler was in. He was in prison? Guess so. I should have paid more attention in school.\nI wonder where he is? Hope I don't run into anyone. Guess I will just start wandering hoping to not run into anyone. What else am I supposed to do?\nI hear talking ahead of me. I assume that's German they are speaking. Hell if I know. Probably should avoid them. Don't want to have to explain why I am down here. \nI just keep walking hoping to run into Hitler. I start to get a feeling. Not sure what it is but something is not right.\nI keep walking but now pick up my pace. As I do, the feeling gets worse. With no real reason to, I break out in a full sprint. Running at feel speed ahead I first realize I don't know where I am going and second that running sucks. It starts to get darker around me, not sure if it the lights or more likely the lack of oxygen to my brain from running. I keep running only to see to late that the hallway makes a sharp turn to the right as I slam face first into the concrete wall.\nI wake up with a mouthful of blood and a pounding head. That's when I realized that someone is standing over the top of me. I know that son of a bitch. Fucking Carl.\n\"Wasn't sure you were going to wake up from that one. Not saying that would have been a bad thing. Would have made my job easier,\" Carl says with a smile. Fucking Carl. How the hell did he get here?\n\"Sorry, can't let you kill Hitler. Shit goes down real bad if he doesn't do his horrendous things.\"\nFucking Carl. Of course he's here to one up me. First the parking spot and now this. What a dick.\n\"So do I have to kill you to keep you from completing your mission or are we good?\" Carl asks.\nMy response was simple, \"Fuck you Carl.\"\nHe smiles, nods his head and takes out his pistol. As he raises it I close my eyes for the last time and think of how much I really hate Carl. \nAll I hear is laughter. As I open my eyes, Carl is holding out his hand, \"Come on, we're in Germany. Let's go get a beer.\"\nFucking Carl. Maybe he isn't so bad after all.\nEdit: typos. ",
"**Berlin, Germany - 30 April 1945**\n\nI approached Führerbunker in the early hours of the morning. The renegade city was dust ridden. A war zone. A nazi scout flanked on my position, I had nearly achieved my mission, one small miscalculation and I'd been found.\n\n\"Sie sind mehr als Sie erscheinen\" *(you are more than you appear)* The man said. I was confused, he held out his hand to me. I took it, he shook my hand and with a surprising confidence he said \"Miss, I am from a dystopian world, we successfully killed hitler by travelling back in time under American order. You should not complete this directive. I. Have. Seen. Things. Things you could not imagine.\"\n\nHe knew who I was and what I was here to do. I paused momentarily, I looked to the floor. When I looked back up the man had disappeared. I had so many questions. If I fled now, more than likely I would die, I would fail my mission. Perhaps I had been set up. All I truly knew was that I needed to move.\n\nAs I approached the door to Führerbunker I noted one soldier guarding. I took aim and shot at his leg. He dropped to the floor and screamed. I ran over to him and proceeded to patch his leg to gain his trust. \"wer bist du, wer bist du, wer bist du!?\" *(Who are you, who are you, who are you?!)* He screamed as I rolled a bandage around his leg. Calmly I spoke \"Ich bin ein Informant, Heil Hitler.\" *(I am an informant, heil Hitler)*\n\nAfter patching his leg, I carried him through the door and down further into the bunker. The stale and crisp air filled my lungs as the soldier explained the situation. I was close now, If I could earn the trust of the fellow soldiers I might garner an audience with Adolf himself.\n\nTo my surprise Eva had come to greet me. Expecting me perhaps to be a man of great stature she instead met me, a german-born Jewish female with dark hair and pale complexion. She greeted me surrounded by soldiers. I explained that I was an informant and had pivotal information regarding how to win the war. I explained in detail the position of the armies advancing on Berlin and I knew I'd won her over.\n\nI requested an audience with the both of them. Eva left me alone, the murmurings in the bunker were that of death. Today would be the day that Adolf and Eva commit suicide. Shots could be heard above ground, constant death and desolation. This man had my family killed, he would have gotten me but I refused to hide. I ran until I could not run anymore. Here I was, older, wiser and with a real motive.\n\nAdolf's eyes were dark. The horror of his life had finally caught up with him. Years of tactical planning had culminated in an aged and weary man. The art on the walls no longer picturesque, drab, dull, lifeless. Eva knew her time was short, Eva was beautiful and would never falter for her führer.\n\n\"Führer, I am here as I'm sure you have been informed to help you. I know this is unexpected, but at this point in time I think we all know you need a tactical advantage for the future.\" I said very calmly, assessing the calculated movements he was making. \"I have something to tell you. The real reason I was sent here was to kill you\" I remarked, Adolf looked visibily uneasy, grabbing the gun at his side.\n\n\"I am not here to kill you, I was sent back in time by the Americans to finish the job for them, but on my journey to Führerbunker I was confronted by a man who told me that If I kill you, terrible things would happen in the future. I understand I sound crazy so let me prove myself to you.\"\n\nI relayed critical information that had just happened to him and some of the events of the day including his thoughts on his impending suicide. He had no choice but to believe me.\n\nWith a defeated look he said \"So was wollen Sie?\" *(So what do you want?)*\n\nI said \"It is physically impossible to win the war, there is no possible outcome where that is conceivable. However, you do not have to die, not today. You are going to live a quiet life. You will undergo disguises for a considerable time and a few select devout Nazi's will go with you to help with tasks like shopping.\" I could see the frustrated look in their eyes. It was clear they were still considering.\n\n\"Warum kümmert es mich um Ihre Zukunft?\" *(Why do I care about your future?)* he said looking at me questioning my reserve. \"You care because despite the efforts of war, you love your country. You love your wife, you are an artist and if that's not enough if you won't help me I will go further back in time after killing you, to ensure you never existed. My family will still exist but you will have no legacy, no impact on this world.\n\nYou could see the distress permeating through the air. He paused momentarily and agreed to help. I told him we would stage the death of the two of you. Hitler will die of a gunshot and Eva would drink cyanide. The building would be burned down and we would all escape to Amsterdam.\n\nIn the months that followed, Eva and Hitler changed their name, settled with a child in Amsterdam and would never be heard from again. We gave them new identities and a chance to create something good out of something incredibly horrific.\n\nI will never forget that day for as long as I live.\n\n *Anne Frank*\n\n[PART 2 IS AVAILABLE IN THE COMMENTS](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/6ivctf/wp_youve_been_sent_back_in_time_by_the_united/djc541f/)",
"In 2270 technology had advanced to quite a large extent. Hover Boards, Teleportation and time travel were invented and mastered, among over things. I was working for the Anti-Terror taskforce (Terrorism is still rampant, especially after the invention of teleportation) and I was pulled aside one day by my superiors and I was given a peculiar assignment. Travel back in time and stop Hitler. You may be wondering why somebody hadn't already gone back and stopped him, and the main reason for that was simply because of how he was not in the history books. Over the centuries before now, heavy censorship occurred after World War 3 and the knowledge of the world before 2000 was lost and died out within 150 years. The basics of inventions and how the current world came to be was still taught, but the idea of war was completely unknown to the world. As such only a very small percentage of the world knew about people like Hitler because they were high ranking government employees. I only know this because I was briefed for my mission to stop Hitler. I was sent from January 12th, 2270 back to January 12th 1941. I appeared inside the office of Hitler just as he was reading over some plans. He gasped as he saw me, and I raised my pistol towards him. Suddenly I heard a sudden thud. I looked to my left and saw a dishevelled man appear and drop to the floor. \"Stop!\" He yelled and both me and the Fuhrer looked at him in confusion.\n\nHe stood up and looked remarkably similar to me. \"Daniel, do not kill him!\" He begged. \"Why not? He is a monster and must be removed before he can do any more damage\" I replied. At that moment I then realised he called me by name. \"How do you know my name?!\" I angrily asked him, and I turned my pistol to him. \"I'm from the year 2270 and the world is soon to be destroyed. After Hitler was assassinated a group of people began the Hitler movement to glorify their leaders life. Soon they became a huge society that ruled Germany and over the years they successfully invaded all other countries and killed off anyone who wouldn't join them. The world is a mess that only you can stop. I am you from this future and I made the same mistake as you are about to make now. Please don't do this.\" He explained and caught his breath. I looked at him perplexed. \n\nI shot him right between the eyes and then turned to Hitler and did the same. \"Glory to the U-S-Motherfucking-A\"",
"I couldn’t believe the lies and deceit in our own American History, hell the entire World’s history. It is true what they say, 'history is always written and influenced by its victor.' I never imagined myself being one of the few to actually help amend or change it when necessary. \n\nMy name is Peter Collins. As of yesterday, I was selected for something I would never even think was possible a few months ago. I was given specific instruction on a particularly interesting task.\n\nThey wanted me to kill Hitler.\n\nI didn’t understand at first. Hitler did die. Well at least, in my specific timeline he has. I pondered on this while scratching my brain on how many timelines that could actually exist. In this current moment in my era, Hitler’s body was found next to a woman’s body before the Second Great War ended.\n\nThis however goes back to the victors writing their own historical record. Hitler’s armies stretched all over Europe. The Russians wanted his militarized expertise so they went in to capture him alive. This is of course what they briefed me on before training on my mission. It turns out that the United States Government was more concerned towards the Russians near the end of the war. This lead to the United States acting on what I never would have believed was possible.\n\nThe United States stormed the bunker in which Hitler was about to spend his last and final moments of surrender. The Russians were closing in. The United States should have killed Hitler, but something went wrong. They instead took him alive from the bunker. To this day, no one knows who the actual body, that was supposedly Hitler’s, belonged to.\n\nThis is what has led us to today. The Government has kept an eye on Hitler’s exile in the southern Americas in order to keep him as far from the Russians as possible. I tried to wrap the common sense around what I was told. *If they didn’t want the Russians to get Hitler and given his account of his actions, why not just kill him ourselves?* I tried to understand but none of it made sense to me. Now I just found myself locked inside of a capsule ready to embark back on the day that is still a mystery after their explanation.\n\nThe mission was simple as described already, Kill Hitler. I had to go back and do what the United States failed to do before.\n\n*I wonder if this was to cover up the United States’ actions or if there was something much larger at stake here.*\n\n\"Okay,” A man in which I was never given the name of began, “We are sending you to where we briefed you on. Once, you are there, you know what to do.” After he finished, he handed me his own pistol.\n\nI did know what to do. They had me train the same scenario day in and day out for several months before today. Failure was not an option. I wasn’t quite sure if they even knew if this was going to work, sending me back into time, or if my body will just be ripped apart by a bad science experiment. \n\nWithout any further thought, I felt the capsule heat excessively while being blinded by a bright light. My ears rang with an incredibly horrible noise. I felt like I smelled the melting of metal around me. Suddenly, I felt a rush of cold air as my eyes began to slowly focus. I sat up to see the trees hovering over me. I picked myself up hearing my boots crunch within a patch of snow. I looked at my watch. The time has now started. There was no time to delay. I picked up my feet and started to run.\n\nI finally found myself outside of the bunker. I kept myself concealed by all of the trees. I noticed something weird. The guards were already knocked out. Their bodies lied in disarray all over the secure point that I found myself excessively training for. \n\n*The Russians,* I thought. *I was too late! How did they get here so fast? I hadn’t trained for this!* \n\nI sat there contemplating on whether they sent me back to the wrong time in which my mission was supposed to begin. I made my way into the bunker while I drew the pistol given to me by the unknown man sponsoring this entire mission. \n\n\"Stop!” A voice shouted as I made my way into the planning room. This was the room in which I was told Hitler would be. “We need to have a little chat.” The voice continued.\n\nI raised up my eyes to find myself now more confused than ever. My heart sank to the bottom of my stomach as I started to almost feel queasy. I found myself staring at Hitler with a woman who had already shot herself – or maybe it was Hitler who killed her – I don’t even know anymore. What made this entire situation worse was the gentleman pointing his weapon towards me beside Hitler. I tried closing my eyes and refocusing.\n\n*Impossible,* I thought. It was myself staring back at me, guarding Hitler.\n\n\"I – I don’t understand.” I hesitated.\n\n\"Let me fill you in.” My other identical counterpart replied, still aimed on me with his pistol. “Hitler is not going to die today. You see you’ve got it all wrong. If he dies, he becomes a martyr. His successors and officers will rise to continue what he began. Hitler here, however,” My counterpart slaps him on the shoulder, “ he has already agreed to his entire surrender.” \n\nI slowly scooted my finger on the trigger, I was not letting Hitler walk out of here alive. \n\n\"Not so fast,” My counterpart smiled, “Hitler is going to help us kill off all of his leadership in accordance of his surrender, but will not do so unless we give him exile. The Nazi party has ended. Hitler has agreed that his leadership was an embarrassment for being defeated.”\n\nHitler just sat there not saying a single word. He just locked his darkened eyes onto mine. My hand began to shake. I had to kill him at all costs. That was my mission.\n\n\"Do you want to kill him? Or do you want the Nazi party gone forever? You have a mission, but what is your goal here?” Myself questioned back at me. He wasn’t going to lower his pistol. He was as attached to his mission as I was with my own. “If it makes you feel better, we’ve killed him before. When we killed him, his party was stronger than ever.”\n\n\"His party will still be strong if we take him!” I replied. I didn’t understand his reasoning.\n\n\"True, which makes them easier to hunt in the plain sight of day.” He smiled. “Hitler will tell us every person under his command, in return for him to live in exile.”\n\n\"Where will you take him?” I replied.\n\n\"Somewhere warm. It is going to be his hell on earth.” My counterpart laughed while Hitler still sat in silence.\n\nA few moments of us staring at each other passed as Russian voices echoed from the outside. \n\n\"Oh yea, the other solution to the problem.” My counterpart pulled the trigger. I felt blood dripping out from my lower abdomen.\n\n\"You just killed yourself?” I gasped in confusion. \n\n\"I just saved everyone.” My counterpart held his own stomach in pain, dropping the pistol.\n\nI locked eyes onto certain individuals that came storming into the room, they weren’t Russians. These guys came in through the back door. The man who handed me the pistol while I was in the capsule grabbed Hitler by the arm. He and several others escorted Hitler from the bunker.\n\n*How were they all here? They were the ones who sent me on this mission!*\n\n\"I don’t understand.” I fell onto my knees trying to breathe.\n\nMy counterpart smiled. “Sacrifice ourselves to save thousands. It is what makes us Heroes.” \n\nHis face – my own face – slowly faded into nothingness. I fell with my entire body onto the carpet. I could still hear what sounded like Russian voices from the outside. Smoke began to fill the room. Flames rolled across the floor circling my body. I turned my head towards the dead woman on the floor next to me. The fire slowly crept closer towards both of our bodies.\n\nIt all started to make sense now. *It was never Hitler’s body. It was my own. How many timelines are there?* The final thoughts escaped from my head as the fire completely wrapped around the bunker. \n\n*The only bodies that they’ll find is mine and the woman’s – They'll believe that my body is Hitler’s and the fire will conceal the truth. No one will dare question it. History, is in fact written and influenced by its victor.*\n\n***\n\nTo read more of my stories, visit [here] (https://www.reddit.com/r/13thOlympian/)"
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[WP] Area 51 is well known for the place where the US hides the aliens, but this is a lie. The truth is much darker. You are the last surviving employee, and you can't keep the secret any longer
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"They say we hide aliens, but that's all bullshit. I've locked myself in here the security room. There is a gruesome death out there that I want no part of. That's why I got a gun with only one bullet left in the chamber. Before I end it, the world needs to know. I have to warn them. Here at Area 51, we're definitely hiding something. And that little \"something\" is Hell. This facility has state of the art security system with squads of Delta Force operators as guards. They were proven useless within an hour. Our goal here is to prevent literally Hell on Earth. The truth is, Armageddon began decades ago. Our facility prevented Armageddon by holding the Devil's armies at bay. We do this by sealing the gates of hell with the words of Solomon and holy salts and items. Soldiers patrol the gates of hell 24 hours a day everyday. But today, our usual routine was broken. A guard went berserk and killed all the priests on site while they were performing the daily sealing ritual. He was killed within seconds but a few seconds weren't enough to stop him from detonating hidden C4 explosives. Now the gates of hell are open and demons are running rampant within the facility. It is only a matter of time before they overrun the Army barricade outside of our facility. Minutes after Hell broke loose our observatories around the world have reported a massive meteor shower approaching earth. We believe this is Jesus' holy army to face the forces of Hell. If you are reading this, arm yourself and hide, for the long night approaches. God bless America and God bless you all. ",
"\"You can't be serious. Why should I believe you?\" The short, blonde, slightly overweight cop, whose name was Kevin, asked and I rolled my eyes in annoyance. I slowly sat down, giving my exhausted legs a bit of rest. In the distance, the Great Red Glow grew larger.\n\"MR. Patterson, I already proved I worked for the government, and for the rest.. well, just look at the sky.\" I said, and pointed at the glow.\n\"It's area 51, right? I knew they were hidin' something in there!\" Kevin said in an odd cheeriness.\n\"That isn't the point. Will you help me?\" I steered the conversation back to my mission.\n\"No. I'll drive you there, but I won't get close to those alien bastards.\" he replied.\n\"well, that's good enough considering the situation.\" I said, attempting to be as grateful as I could, and entered the car.\n\nThe ruins of sectors 1-3 were surprisingly quiet. the gardens I put my soul into were in ruins, but the plants themselves survived and already grew into the new soil. In the middle, A monstrous tree stood, its roots spreading at an unnatural speed. On it was a small ecosystem of its own, and the roots occasionally pumped water and dirt onto it.\n\"what's that?\" Kevin asked, and pointed at ATLAS.\n\"he's my favorite. Don't worry, he doesn't bite.\" I said, and lovingly petted one of ATLAS' branches. the tree shook its leaves in enjoyment. two screams came from the biology sector, and I attempted not to panic.\n\"Oh, fuck. fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.\" I said. I failed not to panic.\n\"What? you don't curse like that without a reason.\" Kevin said, but I wasn't listening. I teared two A.G guns off two corpses that were already in the process of becoming plant-food, and threw one to him.\n\"what's that?\"\n\"listen to me. when they come, wait until one of them is exposed and then shoot directly at his skull. I'll handle the rest. also, stop asking questions. they're stupid.\"\n\n\"WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?\" the cop shouted, and I refused to answer. two seconds later, AB-1 and AB-2 crashed through the multi-sector walls from the biological department, and landed next to ATLAS.\n \nAB-1 was the more humanoid-like of the two, having only four arms and walking on two stone-like legs. AB-2 seemed more like a reptile, but neither of their forms were permanent. AB-1 grew sharp blades on his hands, and impaled AB-2 from four different directions. AB-2 grew spider-like legs, and stabbed AB-1 in the head. I waited until it seemed like they were about to shift again, then shot both in the legs. the biomass that made up their bodies devolved back to a loose collection of cells, and they both fell. The cop, being braver than I thought, shot both in the head. their minds struggled to remain conscious as the skull and skin crumbled, and a few moments later they were dead.\n\n\"what happened?\" Kevin asked.\n\"AB-1 and AB-2, two of the biology departments' monstrosities heard ATLAS, and we killed them.\"\n\"They're aliens, right?\" he asked.\n\"I... don't know. The biology Department is stupidly mysterious about their source.\"\n\"well, maybe we should ask them.\"\n\"they're all dead.\" I said, and Kevin grimaced.\n\"so, do you want to leave? You can go now, but Anywhere deeper to the facility would be too deep for you to go without dying on the way.\" I said, and for a moment I saw excitement in Kevin’s eyes, the kind that is created after years of boredom.\n\"yes, I'll help you. you'll die without me, anyway.\" He said, and I rolled my eyes again.\n\"ATLAS, can you do me a favor?\" I asked, and pointed at the broken door. ATLAS shook in excitement, and a few seconds later the door exploded when a root broke through the ground beneath it. I went first, Kevin following me, and beyond the sector, the Great Red Glow already covered half the sky."
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Frankly, I'm not sure myself how someone would manage to anger dolphins. (Though bombing their city would be a good place to start.)
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[WP] The dolphins built Atlantis. Unfortunately, North Korea nuked it and now they're mad.
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"Just my luck that I scheduled that day to be the day when we \"Swim with the Dolphins.\"\nThe day the nuclear test went wrong, the day I realized I was dead. \n\nThe instructor said it was unusual for the dolphins to act the way they were. That they'd never tried to bite her before. After she said that someone on the other side of her walkie told her to bring everyone back to the resort, and to get as far away as possible from the dolphins.\n\nShe couldn't speak at first. Her eyes glazed over for a second, and then as she started to say something, under the water she went. Ripped down by an amazing force, and she never came back up.\n\nThat was enough for me and my wife, so we tried to stroke back to the resort as fast as possible. Some of the others that started the experience with us did the same, some didn't.\n\nWe saw dorsal fins rising above the water, blocking our path to the resort. I saw an extremely small island to our left, it could fit both of us if we huddled together. Maybe twenty five feet away. I turned to explain it to my wife, but she was gone.\n\nSo I high-tailed it over here. To where I have been for the last 3 and a half days, I think. Wondering what could've triggered the dolphins to act like this. They've been waiting for me to die, checking in on me every couple minutes.\n\nI knew I was gonna die since I reached this island. I haven't been waiting for a rescue, I haven't been waiting for the pain of my wife to leave, I haven't been waiting for myself to wake up from this nightmare. \n\nBut every second I'm not dead means one more second these dolphins have to waste watching a dead man. Even so, I can't wait til I'm sleeping with the fishes."
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[WP] Everyone loves the classic Pokemon games. However, the actual Pokemon universe is very different.
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"I bolted down the hall, my heavy gear clanking with every footfall.\n\n\"LET'S GO, LET'S GO!!\" Captain Brock shouted. \"IT'S A 43-27! REPEAT, WE GOT AN EVOLUTION HERE!!\"\n\n\"Oh, shit!\" I yelled. \"Blue, let's go!\" I picked up the pace with my partner not far behind.\n\nWe burst out into the courtyard. Crushed metal workout equipment was scattered everywhere. Soldiers lay mangled on the ground. Some crushed to death, as if with a steam roller. Others had bled out from razor sharp stones that had pierced their armor.\n\nThe Geodude responsible was in the center of it all, and it was glowing.\n\nWe watched in horror as it's body turned into blinding light and it's body transformed. When the light faded, it had become a Graveler. It's body was thick stone, probably tougher than steel. A pair of arms hugged it's own ribs. Another larger pair jutted out from it's back. The Pokémon roared in fury.\n\n\"OPEN FIRE!\"\n\nOur rifle muzzles blazed, sending out swarms of bullets that sparked as they flattened against the Graveler's skin. The Pokémon curled up into a ball. This could've been mistaken for a defensive position, but we knew better.\n\n\"IT'S USING ROLLOUT!\" I screamed. \"GET OUTTA THE WAY!\"\n\nAll of the officers dove behind some form of cover. I told Blue to hide with the others and ran. The Graveler took off like a bowling ball, leaving a dust trail behind it. It followed me as I sprinted across the yard. It started gaining on me when I tripped and fell. I shut my eyes and accepted what was about the happen when the sound of crunching stone stopped. I opened my eyes to see the Graveler turn into red energy and get sucked into a Pokéball, which fell to the ground and shuddered. Captain Brock retrieved the orb and snapped it onto his belt. He noticed me on the ground and offered his hand.\n\n\"You alright, Sergeant?\" He asked.\n\nI took his hand and got myself off the ground. \"I'll live, sir. Just a shock.\"\n\nThe Captain looked around at the men emerging from their cover. \"Now, then.\" He began. \"WHICH ONE OF YOU RATICATE SHIT STAINS HAD THE BRIGHT FUCKING IDEA TO LET MY PERSONAL GEODUDE OUT OF HIS GODDAMN POKÉBALL?!\"\n\nUnderstandably, no one stepped forward, but Captain Brock was livid.\n\n\"HERE'S WHAT'S GONNA HAPPEN: I'M GONNA HAVE THIS POKÉBALL TESTED FOR PRINTS, AND WHOEVER IS FOUND GUILTY WILL NOT ONLY LOSE DINNER FOR A WEEK, BUT HE'S GONNA SPRINT SO MANY LAPS, IT MAKES THE POKÉATHALON LOOK LIKE A FUCKING TREAT!!!\"\n\nCaptain Brock stormed off. Blue shuffled over to me looking horrified.\n\n\"Red....you almost--\"\n\n\"I know, Blue. But I don't have a scratch on me. I got lucky, so don't sweat it.\"\n\n\"Damn, I wonder who was stupid enough to let out a Rock-Type that close to evolution.\n\n\"I know. I heard Captain Brock kept it from evolving for three years so it wouldn't be so dangerous.\"\n\nBlue yawned. \"I'm beat. Wanna head back to the barracks?\"\n\n\"Sure.\" I grinned. \"This'll be one helluva story for the kids.\"\n\nWe got some hot soup from the mess hall in our bellies before going back. Blue crashed in his bunk across from me and I made the Skype call on my laptop. My twin sons smiled at me with their mother behind them.\n\n\"Hey, dad!\" Gold grinned. \"Did you fight a Pokémon? How scary was it! Are you okay?\"\n\nHis brother, Silver, rolled his eyes. \"Calm down.\"\n\n\"Actually, I fought a loose Graveler today.\"\n\n\"Whoa! That's so cool! I want a Graveler!\"\n\n\"Gold,\" His mother scolded. \"Pokémon are dangerous. That's why your daddy has to protect us from them.\"\n\n\"It's alright, Leaf.\" I assured her. \"But she is right, kids. Fire Base Rocket is here to make sure you two grow up safe.\"\n\nLeaf pat the kids on the head. \"I think it's time for bed, you two.\"\n\n\"Aww, I wanna talk to dad a little more.\" Gold whined.\n\n\"Red, honey, I'll see you when your service time is over. That's in September, right?\"\n\nI nodded to my wife. We said our goodbyes and she cut the transmission. I closed the laptop, feeling drowsy. I suddenly froze. Drowsy? At five in the afternoon? And what an odd word choice...\n\nMy eyes wandered to the entrance of the barracks to see a Drowsy, it's flabby yellow arms swinging hypnotically.\n\nMy vision narrowed, but I mustered all my remaining strength and put it into a single yell.\n\n\"CAPTAIN!!\"\n\nI collapsed on my bunk but jolted back up to the sound of a gunshot. The Drowsy lay dead with a bleeding hole between it's eyes. Captain Brock stood above it holding a smoking handgun.\n\n\"Sir.\" I slurred. \"We really must stop meeting like this.\"\n\nHe holstered his gun and put his hands on my shoulders. \"Sergeant, you're still recovering from Hypnosis. Here.\"\n\nHe removed his sunglasses, revealing bright green eyes.\n\n\"Look into my eyes. Focus.\"\n\nI did as he asked, feeling myself return to proper consciencness as I locked eyes with him.\n\n\"Ugh...\" I blinked several times. \"Sir, I don't know who they are, but someone's releasing Pokémon in the facility.\"\n\nCaptain Brock nodded. \"Right before the print results came back, that Drowsy started puttin' everyone to sleep.\"\n\nI stared at the corpse. \"Sir, with all due respect, Captain Sabrina isn't going to be happy.\"\n\nThe Captain cracked a smile. \"Sergeant, don't even get me started on that basket case.\"\n\nI choked back a laugh. \"Uh, sir. The prints?\"\n\n\"Right. Right. I should go wake the rest of the staff.\"\n\nI rose, my knees shaking, \"Sir?\"\n\nThe Captain turned his head back to me.\n\n\"Mind if I come along, sir? I'd like to know who almost killed me twice.\"\n\nCaptain Brock nodded. \"I believe that's appropriate.\"\n\nI followed him to the research labs and brought back all of the professors from the sleeping attack.\n\n\"Professor Oak.\" The Captain said. \"Have the scans come back yet?\"\n\nThe old man fumbled with his paperwork. \"Yes, sir. It's--\"\n\nOak's eyes widened with horror. \"SYCAMORE! ELM! GET OVER HERE NOW!\"\n\nThe rest of the professors surrounded the eldest and each of their expressions became identical as their eyes flew over the reports. They were all shocked to their very core.\n\n\"What is it, dammit?\" Captain Brock demanded.\n\n\"The fingerprints....\" Professor Elm stammered.\n\n\"They're not human.\" Professor Oak squeaked. \"They're....Pokémon...\""
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[WP] You are superhuman, and are viewed by everybody as a villain and somebody you should fear and avoid. The truth is, you created that reputation so that actual supervillains will be genuinely afraid when you come for them.
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"Though they call me superhuman, in reality I am less human than them. My skeleton has been replaced by a super-alloy, my organs replaced by mechanical replicas that do not require food, the emotional centers of my brain replaced with tiny molecular processors.\n\nThey call me the world's first supervillain as well, and they call the soldiers that fight against me heroes, but the opposite is closer to the truth. I come from the cold, scorched future of Earth, where even the air we breath is poisoned with radiation. And I won't stop until the real supervillains, the leaders of this world and the men responsible for destroying it, are all dead.",
"Salvador Marcone walked into his the mansion with his five henchmen behind him, storming inside with guns ready. They got a call about an intruder and they wanted to teach this brute not to mess with his father's Family.\n\nThey began searching for any survivors but all they found were corpses. Some were frozen solid, others were reduced to mere smoldering piles of bones frozen into the position they had died due to the severe heat. Some had holes punched clean through their heads or torsos, others were torn in half and some had their entire torsos explode due to being struck against the wall.\n\nSoon they found themselves in the master bedroom, looking in at the man who was crumpled on the ground, his neck shattered so thoroughly that his head was facing forward and completely upside down relative to the torso's direction.\n\nSal walked inside the room, opened the safe and took a flash drive from inside before heading out with his men. 'Let's call the police then get this out of here,' he said. 'This is a complete list of our businesses, this can't be here when they come.'\n\nAs they got to the bottom of the stairwell I pounced, falling downward with both heels striking one mobster in the head. Ever see the window-pane scene from *Final Destination 2*? Well, it was like that, only bloodier and flatter.\n\nThe gunfire had began but I had already began working. Grabbing two of them by digging into their flesh and wrapping my fingers around their spines, I hoisted them up and slammed them together with enough force to destroy their rib-cages. The next one I grabbed by his leg, lifting him upside down so I could look at the tainted zone. Pretty small down there... with his build I suspected anabolic steroid abuse. No matter, I drove both hands into the flesh - not the anus, but just a bit between both that and the penis - before ripping him open so that the only thing keeping him in one piece was the flesh of his neck. \n\nSal and the last bodyguard began to run away, something I couldn't allow. I ran forward and shoved Sal through a doorway and into a drawing room before literally running a thousand laps around his last bodyguard, the wind force so great that it lifted him up and tore him to shreds.\n\nI came to a sudden stop before Sal, grabbing him by the skull and lifting him upwards, making sure to squeeze his skull a little to illustrate my power. 'Well, how convenient,' I said as I grabbed the thumb drive and placed it in a sealed pocket on my pitch-black and blood-red super-suit. 'I take down the Marcone's leadership *and* get a complete list of their assets to dismantle. How convenient.'\n\nI dropped Sal to the floor, kicking him into place before sitting myself down in his father's armchair. I lifted the box of cigars and bottle of port before using Sal as a footrest. I poured myself a drink and lit the cigar with my optical blast before taking my feet off of Salvador and ordering him, 'Get up.'\n\n'Who the fuck do you think you are?' Sal asked as he stood up.\n\n'You can call me Titan,' I said as I took a deep puff on the cigar. 'And if you ever speak out when I haven't asked you or given you permission, I'll be calling you, \"Bitch,\" as I drive my dick in your eye socket and skull-fuck you to death! Do you hear me?!'\n\n'Y-yes,' he grovelled.\n\n'Very good,' I answered before sipping on the port. 'There's a meeting of the dons from all over the country tomorrow. I want you to relay something *very* clearly to them. *I* am in charge now. They pay me 80% or I hunt down each and every single one of them. They obey *my* rules as I tell them. If anyone disobeys... Well, allow this,' I said as I displayed my work, 'to be an object lesson as to why I have little patience. *Now* you may call the police.'\n\nI stood up, still smoking the cigar as I met the wall into the front yard. I didn't need to push or strike it, it merely collapsed as I walked into it and towards the gate.\n\nThen I turned around to Sal's horror. 'I forgot something.'\n\nHe began to scream as I grabbed him. 'W-What are you doing?!'\n\n'*What did I tell you about* ***speaking out of turn?***' I demanded as I pulled his pants down. 'Hold still. This will only hurt for a moment.'\n\nSal screamed as the flesh of his thigh was seared by my heat vision. He only grumbled, his teeth nearly breaking from the tension of trying not to scream as his flesh was burned.\n\n'Off-shore bank account and warehouse address,' I said to him as I let go. 'I want everything in those two places.'\n\nHe gasped in pain as I left, flying at mach 100 out of the atmosphere and soon I was at the League of Heroes' moon base.\n\n'Well?' Mount Olympus asked me as I flew through the o-zone barrier.\n\n'Definitely made an impression on Sal,' I said with a sigh. 'If this doesn't scream \"Bad guy,\" I have no idea what else we can do.'\n\n'Good,' the commander said with a smile. 'Now we just need to get the supervillains in line.'\n\n---\n\n**Part 2 coming soon**",
"The door knob twisted slowly, and The Armorer backed away slowly, hands holding a gun trained on the door. The door knob clicked and the door began to open. The Armorer fired a shot, and another, until the gun was out of bullets. A few moments passed while The Armorer wasn't sure if he was successful or not, and then I jumped through the door. The Armorer's screams woke the masses that day.\n\nThe news went live. \"Reports of another murder in New York City today. The victim was The Armorer, a man who planned to one day take over the world with mind controlling armor. Police who investigated the scene say it was the work of The Shadow.\"\n\nThe Shadow? Is that what they call me now? Excellent.\n\nThe newsman continued, \"On the scene there was a note that said: 'Excelsior, you're next.' Excelsior is a well known super villain from-\" I shut the television off. My next target is an Englishman. My reputation precedes me, so they will be in high security, and will be truly terrified\n\n\"Time to leave New York City.\" I spoke in a gravelly tone. I burst through the window and landed the thirty stories down unscathed, and began my trek across the Atlantic. Water is no obstacle, as I can run so fast it acts like concrete under my feet. You could say I'm a superhuman.\n\nPeople turn and look as I run past, my dark hood obscuring my features. My steps leave craters in the ground. I see a mugging and immediately stop. \"Stop.\" I tell the mugger in that gravelly voice. They whip around and when they see me all the color in their face drains away. The mugger runs away. \"Give me your money.\" I tell the victim. \"B-but you ju-\" \"Your money!\" They hand their money to me and I am gone faster than they can say \"The Shadow!\"\n\n\"You fools!\" Excelsior shouts. \"He will be here at any moment!\" The henchmen scoff at their employer. \"No, he'll be here when the next plane arrives.\" \"He can run across the ocean!\" Excelsior screams at them. \"I am going to the tallest tower and you will defend me!\" He yells.\n\nPitt patt pitt patt pitt slap. Finally in England after five hours of running. I know where he is, my super abilities include being able to track down anyone anywhere. His tower won't protect him from me. Strangely, there are no henchmen. Likely at the airport, ready to destroy the absentee shadow. I begin scaling the tower. Pebbles break loose from the tower as I scale it, sometimes even a brick falls. Eventually I am under the window in which Excelsior points his gun at, ready for my assault.\n\nI throw my voice behind him and yell \"Peekaboo behind you!\" He whips around and I jump inside the room. I tear the gun from his hands and snap it in two. \"No.\" He says quietly as I begin to tower over him. \"No!\" He yells just as my arm morphs into a sword. \"NOOOOOOOoooooo.....\" The scream trails off as I skewer him through the heart with my arm-sword. Too easy. Maybe I should pursue stronger prey....\n\nEdit: grammar and punctuation fixes",
"The original Captain Carnage was *not* a good man. The fear he instilled in other villains had well deserved, especially considering the fact that he was well known for killing more people on his side than Supers or civilians, which isn't to say that his kill count in those categories were anything to turn your nose up at either. \n\nYou see villains usually have an unspoken agreement to leave each other alone, so long as their schemes don't directly interfere with each other. I suppose the best analogy would be that the villain social structure works pretty much like it does with stray cats. \n\nOccasionally they'll work together or even form dangerous (albeit short lived) groups, but for the most part they're perfectly happy sticking to their own territory. \n\nWhat made Carnage different is that his territory wasn't a bizarrely specific type of crime, a city, or hell even an entire country. No Carnage saw the entire **world** as his territory, and he was perfectly happy with protecting his claim on it through any means necessary, and if it meant burning down entire cities, or killing men, women, and children on TV, then so be it. \n\nI suppose part of the reason everyone on the other side of things was so afraid of Carnage was because he was a living reminder of why they tolerate (and will occasionally fight *with*) the league. \nSay what you will about super villains, but most of them aren't *really* interested in going on killing sprees or taking over the world so much as they are in making an obscene amount of money much, much faster than they could through normal channels. \n\nEven the worst of them have morals, hell most of the big name villains everyone's so afraid of will draw the line at killing kids (at least on purpose). To them Carnage was a living example of what can happen if you ever go too far. \n\nI suppose that's also part of the reason all of the villains were so gung ho to help us when word got out that the League was planning on storming his compound and taking care of the bastard once and for all. A lot of good decent people, both villain and hero died that day, and I probably would have been one of them if Dr.Insano hadn't taken a death ray to the face while bandaging my wounds. \n\nOne of the things most civilians don't know is that the League is even more concerned with it's image than it looks on the outside. There's a reason why you don't see very many members of the League with prominent facial scars, not to mention the fact that the line up is almost constantly changing aside from the people who either have the healing factor, invulnerability, or enough money to afford plastic surgery.\n\nWhile I appreciated the offer to continue operating as an associate hero and the severance was generous enough, it wasn't enough to maintain my equipment for very long even if I managed to get my old day job back. I suppose most former leaguers find themselves in the same situation, which is probably part of the reason most of the don't stay in the game long enough afterwards for us to form our own hero groups, or even kick up enough of a fuss to get the media involved. \n\nA few months after I got booted, things went nuts.\nPreviously mild and tame villains became dangerous and unpredictable, well known villains started topping each other....\n\nThat's when I realized that Carnage was one of the few things keeping the villains in check. A few days later, I finally made my decision.\n\nIt wasn't hard to get a hold of Carnage's suit. \nUnlike the other trophies taken from his compound, it was surprisingly mundane, and no one really really even wanted it. I didn't even really need much evidence that I was actually working with the super-history museum to get my hot little hands on it.\n\nEven though my fight with Carnage left me scarred, I'm still in good enough shape that I can give most mid tier villains a good run for their money in a fight. Which of course means that all of the lower level baddies kicking up a fuss never stood a chance. \n After the first few punks were found beaten to a pulp, word started getting around. With the money I stole from their various lairs, I was able to pay off my rent for another month, and finally get my injured foot looked at by someone who wasn't on league payroll.\n\nA couple months later, I got contacted by a group of other former league members. As it turns out I wasn't the first person to think of stealing a villain's suit and doing some robin hooding. \n\nThey call themselves the Dead Villains' Society...\nI think I'm going to have a lot of fun with them"
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[WP] You awaken on a park bench alone, in a city you are unfamiliar with. No one seems to speak a language you know and, with no memory of how you got there, the only information you have is a cell phone with a note that says "When it rings, Answer immediately."
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"I like to think that I do a fairly good job of keeping myself off the streets, but even so there are occasions when I find that sleeping rough is necessary. \nWhile doing so is never enjoyable, this occasion in particular stood out as being thoroughly unpleasant. \n\nMy first thought had been that I had had a little too much to drink last night, and I had passed out somewhere because I was too drunk to make it back to the hotel. While I'm well past the point in my life where I would go drinking almost every night, I wasn't old enough to have completely forgotten what a hangover feels like.\n\nSlowly inched myself into a sitting position in an attempt to avoid making the headache even worse, I contemplated how much I must have had to drink to get this hungover. Part of the reason I don't go on week long drinking binges anymore is that my tolerance is high enough that I would need to chug the entire contents of a liquor store just to get a half decent buzz. \n\nWhile the last thing I remembered before waking up on this bench was going to the party, and while I *do* have vague memories of drinking before I passed out, the local council hosting it never really gave me the impression that they were the kind of people to have that much booze on tap. \n\nOnce I felt confident enough to actually open my eyes and take a look around, I was slightly relieved to note that it was still night time. While this probably meant that I had gotten piss drunk fairly early at the event, it was also going to be much much easier (and less painful) for me to stumble back to my hotel at night to lick my wounds than if I had woken up that morning, or even worse, that afternoon. \n \nAs it was, the street lights were starting to make my headache worse, which is why I decided it was probably time to dust myself off and head back. While I didn't recognize the park, I didn't really see anything wrong with it at first. The city the party was being held in was pretty large, so it made sense that there would be a couple of tucked away places I wasn't familiar with. \n\nMy thought process was that all I really had to do was pick a direction, and keep walking until things started making sense again. Hell maybe a little walk in the cool night air would even work the rest of the alcohol out of my system. \nSadly I almost stumbled and fell over again as soon as I got up, so I decided that maybe running around without asking for directions wasn't a good idea.\n\nI also noticed at this point that I was so thirsty that I felt sick, so I decided to head over to the convenience store across the street to get something to drink, and maybe get a better idea of where I was. As I got closer, I noticed the sign for the store was in some sort of foreign text, which I brushed off as being a sign that I had managed to wander into one of the city's many ethnic neighborhoods.\n\nThe cashier barely glanced in my direction as I stumbled inside and proceeded to immediately head to their drink section. I guessed that he probably got a fair amount of drunks at this time of night, so he was sort of used to it. \n\nAs I looked around for the largest bottle of water they had, I noticed that none of the prices were in U.S currency. This was probably the first sign that something was amiss, but I brushed it aside as it being some sort of weird courtesy for new immigrants to the area. I eventually shuffled over to the counter to make my purchase. As I started checking my pockets for my wallet while the cashier rung me up, I asked him about the weird pricing, and wheither he knew what the water cost in u.s dollars, or if he was willing to take a credit card to make things easier. \n\nThe cashier paused, and gave me a bizarre look. I assumed that he must not have heard me, or else his English wasn't very good, so I repeated my question again only slower this time. \n\nThe cashier only looked more confused, I was about to repeat myself again when the cashier started talking quickly in a language I did not recognize. It sounded like it might have been spanish, but the man's accent was off, and when I tried switching to what little spanish I knew, he only looked more confused. \n\nAfter a little more of this, he motioned for me to wait, and walked into some sort of back room, presumably to call his manager. \n\nBy this point I was starting to suspect that something was seriously wrong, so i decided that my best course of action was to leave five dollars on the counter and get out of this neighborhood as quickly as possible. \n\nHowever as I pulled my wallet out to do just that, I saw that it was gone, and the only thing I had in my pocket was an unfamiliar iphone and a note. \n\nI noticed that the cashier was apparently almost done talking to whoever was on the other end of the phone, so I decided to abandon my original plan and just book it without paying. \n\nEven in my condition, I was fast enough that by the time the poor sap noticed I was gone, I was at a bus stop several blocks away. \n\nIt was at this point that I finally had an opportunity to get a good look at the phone, which was definitely not mine considering it was several generations newer and in much better condition than my own. I learned next to nothing about whoever owned it by turning it on, as it didn't have any games or really any of the apps that were supposed to come with it save for the messenger and phone apps. Disturbingly enough based on the date the lock screen had shown, I was apparently unconscious for at least a day and a half instead of just a few hours. \nThe note that was attached to it also didn't give me many hints about what was going on, save for the instructions to answer the phone immediately when it rang.\n\nI decided to sit on the bench at the bus stop for a few minutes and sip on my ill-gotten dasani while I caught my breath. As I did so, I noticed that nothing, from the architecture to even the language on the street signs looked familiar. \nAfter about an hour of doing this, the splitting headache and dizziness that had been plaguing me since I woke up started to fade. \n\nWhile I still wasn't at 100%, I was at least thinking clearly again, and I felt that in a few minutes I would probably be able to run or fight as needed. \nIt was literally five minutes after I finished that exact thought that the phone rang. \n\nI could tell from the strange echo on the other end that I was on a conference call with at least five other people. While there was something familiar about the only voice in said call that was speaking, I couldn't quite place where I had heard it before. \n\n\" \n You four are probably wondering where you are, or how you got here. However that isn't important. What is important is that you all had the highest marks in your respective classes, which means you are skilled enough to qualify for the next level. However in order to do so you must pass one final test. \nOur intel shows that there is a rogue somewhere in this city, it is your task to find each other, correctly identify the rogue, and eliminate them before they draw even more attention to themselves. \n\nIf you do not stop the hunt before another innocent gets killed, you fail; If you incorrectly identify one of your teammates as the rogue, you fail; If your proctors are forced to intervene to save your sorry ass you will also fail. \n\nWhile we have calculated the timing of this call to ensure that all candidates will be conscious enough to receive it, we also realize that some of you will not have recovered enough to be of much use to your fellow canidates, we urge you to find them as soon as possible. \n\nWaiting any longer to find each other would be extremely inadvisable, as by this point you will have been in the area long enough that the rogue will have picked up on your scent, so they will be tracking you down even as you and you are trying to get your bearings\nGood luck, you all are going to need it\" \n\n",
"Sunlight.\n\nA feeling...my hand. It's...wet.\n\nSomething is different.\n\nI open my eyes, and immediately close them again. *Too bright*. The Sun's right overhead.\n\nWhatever I'm lying on, it's hard. And rough.\n\n*Stone?*\n\nNo. *Concrete*.\n\nThere's something in my pocket.\n\nAnd my hand. It's wetter. *I'm being licked.*\n\nI turn my head sideways to check it out, and an adorable fluffy white dog is licking my fingers.\n\n\"Hey, little buddy,\" I say, chuckling a bit.\n\nThe dog is wagging its tail. I'm on a park bench, I think. I sit up, leaving my hand dangling for my new friend to taste.\n\nYup. Definitely a park bench. Beautiful day, too. Not a cloud in the sky. The grass is well-maintained.\n\nThe dog has a leash, and the leash is attached to an owner, or so I presume.\n\n\"Good afternoon,\" I say. \"Sorry, your dog...he just sorta...y'know.\"\n\nThe owner looks confused.\n\nHe responds, but the noises he's making don't make any sense. I'm not familiar with the language, if it even is one.\n\n\"Do you speak English?\"\n\nHe still looks confused, and tugs on the dog's collar. They walk off.\n\n*Well that was weird.*\n\nI remember the thing in my pocket. I reach my hand in and pull out a phone.\n\n*This is wrong.*\n\nThe feel of the phone in my hand. It's...off. Different.\n\n*Different? From what?*\n\nIt doesn't have the same feel as the phone...the phone I'm used to.\n\n*I've felt another phone?*\n\nAnd then a really weird thought hits me.\n\nFor me to have ever felt another phone, there had to have been some kind of...before-time. Sometime that I existed before now.\n\n*Amnesia.* That was the word, right? Losing my memory...I know of the concept. I know that it's something that can happen. I know babies are born without knowledge and I have knowledge which must have come from somewhere.\n\nBut I can't remember anything.\n\nI reach. I try to feel how the phone *should* feel, try to remember the phone I once had.\n\nNothing.\n\nI flip open the phone. Inside is a little note.\n\n*When it rings, answer immediately.*\n\nInteresting.\n\nI press some of the buttons on the phone. No response.\n\n*Is it even on?*\n\nI sigh.\n\nI think it's time to do some exploring. I try to stand up, but I immediately fall over.\n\n*Different. The way I walk, the way I move. Not like it used to be.*\n\nI had thought I was just still shrugging off sleep, but it's something deeper.\n\nI make another, more successful, attempt to stand. I uncomfortably begin to walk.\n\n*Stab yourself.*\n\nThe thought comes suddenly, unbid.\n\n*Why?*\n\nThere was a reason. Some reason, drilled into me, ages ago.\n\n*Stab yourself.*\n\nI ignore the urge.\n\nStanding, I see the city around me. Skyscrapers everywhere. Giant advertisement boards tower over people meandering through the streets.\n\nThe advertisements aren't in English, nor in any language I recognize. Is it a language?\n\nHonestly, the markings just look like scratches.\n\nI walk towards the street, where I can cross to a busier area.\n\nThe phone rings.\n\nI open it up and answer.\n\n\"Hello?\"\n\n\"This is a pre-recorded message,\" the phone brightly informs me. \"According to the PVCR Act, you are required to be informed of the following.\"\n\n*PVCR Act?*\n\nThe acronym is familiar. It takes a second, but I remember.\n\nPrisoners in Virtual Confinement Rights Act.\n\n\"You are living in a simulation.\"\n\n*Yup.*\n\n\"You have been deemed unfit to live in regular society in your current condition. We are providing an artificial world for you, and we have removed your memories in attempt to help the healing process. Your behavior will be monitored by staff and by your psychologist. If you are deemed mentally stable again, you will be allowed to exit this world and return to reality.\"\n\nI remember now. *Stab yourself.* A way to see if you're in a simulation. They won't let you hurt yourself.\n\nI rake my hand through some bushes. No pain. No blood.\n\n\"You will recieve an appointment with your psychologist once a week. We will call you on this phone ten minutes before each one so you have time to prepare.\"\n\nI scrounge around for a rock, and, finding one, poke at my hand with it. Nothing.\n\n\"You also have the right to be informed of what you are accused of. Your sentence was for: attempted homicide.\"\n\n*What? I tried to kill someone?*\n\nThen again...they could be lying. How am I supposed to know? I know nothing about myself.\n\nHow convenient.\n\n\"Your rights are inalienable. You may dial 0 to hear this message again at any time.\"\n\nI have to know. I take a deep breath, then run head-on into traffic. The car heading for me honks and slows down, but still slams into me. The phone flies out of my hand and I hurtle through the air, thrown backwards onto the ground.\n\nI'm not even hurt.\n\n\"This phone will remain with you at all times.\"\n\nThe voice is coming from my pocket. *The phone is back in my pocket.*\n\nI pull it out. It's still lit up, like nothing changed.\n\n\"You may use it in the event of an emergency. Keep on your best behavior. We will be evaluating you continuously.\"\n\nI stare at it, wishing I didn't understand.\n\n\"Good luck.\"\n\nThe phone goes dark, and I slowly look upwards to face the city before me and my uncertain future."
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[WP] Magic is real. Humans get magic when they turn 200. You are one of the first.
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"Lets imagine, for a moment, that you win a lottery. The prize is kept mysterious, but you are guaranteed to have an \"unforgettable\" experience. You go to claim your prize. They film you on live television. You get into the room and see a box.\n\n*Here it comes,* you think to yourself.\n\nThe presenter strides in, bends forward like a waiter and lifts the lid from the box - to your disgust, it's filled with the most abhorrent assortment of insects. The bottom of the box is slimy, and the insects are covered in their fecal matter. You look at the presenter and meet only a glaring grin stretching from one ear to another. His eyes are shrewd and he silently beckons you to dig in. In his other hand he grips a scalpel, dripping with red.\n\nYou're on live television. You look around you and see that the doors are locked on all sides. There's no backing out. You want to leave but the armed guards at the door seem to void that possibility. It's like a nightmare.\n\nHow did something so promising turn out so horrid?\n\nWe learn in school about the wonders of unlocking more potential of the human mind - though we've only managed to garner about a single extra percent of processing power, the effects were marvelous. Increased perception and longer lifespans were only the beginning of unimaginable power.\n\nI guess there's a lot more truth to conspiracy theorists than we were lead to believe. Looking back on it now, I can see how schools, medical institutions, media and even our most trusted leaders all led us astray. Years of selective perception and propaganda have led to this surprise. I can't say it isn't my fault... I can recall, by name, dozens of people who tried to warn me about this. I guess I felt safer pretending it wasn't real.\n\nSo here I am. A victim of my own arrogance, ignorance and stupidity. I've hit the limit and realized the truth - magic exists.\n\nThey boil it down to fairy tales and childish imagination, but in reality it's far darker. I've seen it. The sterile whiteness of the walls and floors here are often bleached with the crimson of the guards and scientists, and none too often do their screams echo through the hallways, despite the padding of my cell. I admit, I have my fair share of sin as well. It's hard to restrain yourself when they pick at your skin and skewer you over and over again. Sometimes I lose it and go nuts. It's humorous, now that I think about it. The looks on their faces! Their expressions when the straps snapped open and their severed limbs hosed the walls and ceiling with blood! Marvelous!\n\n*Marvelous...*\n\nThat's what it is, then. Fantastic. Incredible. Awe-inspiringly terrific!\n\nTerrific... or terrifying?\n\nI see it now. So this is why they neutralize us. I can't recall being so happy about the death and maiming of another, no matter the circumstances. I suppose they were only doing their jobs, after all. At least they know the truth. Maybe one day they'll expose the lies of our leaders?\n\nNo. Probably not. I am one of the first, but definitely not the last. They'll go on teaching it like a fairy tale, a nice little dream for the children to play with while we sit here and get torn to pieces.\n\nMagic... how did something so promising turn out so horrid?",
"There's a certain wonder about growing old after the dawn of genetic engineering. There's telomere transplant gene therapy, there's stem cell production and my personal favorite, brand new hormonal glands. I've had 3 sets of balls to keep the swimmers pumping.\n\nAlthough I'm considered something of a marvel as the youngest person behind me is one hundred and fifty. That was previously believed to be the maximum level of how long a life could be extended. But a few days ago was my two hundredth birthday. And it really was a marvelous event, having nearly all of my grandkids, great-grandkids and great-great-grandkids there as well. Some distant relatives as well such as that bitch Karen.\n\nBut there was something weird that I didn't seem to pick up on yesterday. I did *feel* it but it was only after I went to bed and somehow shot off a lightning storm to destroy my bedroom did I realize something was wrong with me.\n\nI realized something was *very* wrong with me once I managed to effortlessly reconstruct everything that I destroyed by merely pointing. And going to the doctor showed that something was becoming *different* about me.\n\n'It's weird,' the doctor told me. 'It's like your body is somehow able to repair itself, work out despite complete inactivity. I saw you only a few months ago but... you went from \"Crusty old man\" to \"strong-bodied twenty-year old\" since then.'\n\n'Fuck, then maybe I'll lose my senior citizens discounts,' I griped. 'There's one other issue.'\n\n'What's that?' the doctor asked.\n\n'I can do this,' I said as I created a fireball in my hand.\n\n'What the hell?!' the doctor yelled. 'How did-'\n\n'That's not all,' I said while interrupting him, before turning the fireball into a crystal statue and floating it down towards him, allowing him to touch it. 'Any idea how this is possible?'\n\nHe simply stared at me with his mouth agape. 'NO!' he screamed when he finally came back to reality. 'You need to go see a specialist like a neurologist or a physicist.'\n\n'That last one isn't part of the medical profession,' I reminded him.\n\n'*THEN HOW THE* **FUCK** *DID YOU MAKE THIS?!*' the doctor yelled. 'You need to go to a medical college to be studied, like Harvard or Stanford or-'\n\n'Hold the fuck on,' I said in protest. 'I am *not* taking a two-day space-flight to the other side of the galaxy to go to some crusty old colleges on Earth of all places. Now if you don't mind, I've got to go see to my flowers.'\n\nI headed towards the door as the doctor just stood there, looking at the crystal fireball. I *was* going to open the door normally before I turned back and asked, 'How much you want to bet I can walk through this?'\n\n'If you give my receptionist a heart attack I am going to hunt you down and kill you,' he sneered at me. 'Just book another apointment for next Monday.'\n\n'Yeah, yeah...'\n\n---\n\n**Part 2 coming soon**",
"You're on a hundred different medications and half the hospital is keeping you alive in forms of life support and medical advancements. You would pump your fist in joy of being one of the first - if not the first, but you can't remember the others' birthdays - human beings to reach their 200th birthday in just a few minutes, but your arms hurt too much to do so.\n\nThe monitor attached to your hospital bed beeps in excitement for you instead.\n\nYour relatives sit next to you as they count down the minutes, hurrying around in excitement, being too loud underneath the too bright light. For crying out loud you're nearly two centuries old, you love them all a lot but you'd think they'd be more considerate of your general state of being.\n\nThe clock strikes midnight, but their cheers are drowned out by a sudden blinding light in your vision. A million thoughts rush into your brain, a million voices whispering ancient words and songs, runes and symbols spinning before you, washing out everything in that hospital room. You fall through time and space, surrounded by exploding stars and whispers and cries of long passed ancestors. It seems to last forever.\n\nThen, your family's out of tune rendition of happy birthday becomes clear again, and the vision and noises all fade away.\n\nYou gasp, returning to reality and breathing heavily as the monitor continues beeping above you. A million ancient spells dance on your lips, begging to be cast, your heart still racing rapidly beneath your chest. As your grand daughter screams in excitement and begins to cut the cake, that noise somehow sets it off though.\n\nA language you have never even heard before rolls off your tongue like reflex, and suddenly the walls of your hospital room change into a moving, living mural of a rainforest - so real that the chirping of birds and drizzling of the rain spreads through the room. \n\n\"Oh my god. It *is* real.\" That's your son speaking. With shaking arms he hugs you, and you realise that you're a living piece of evidence who just proved what humans have been suspecting for years now, but which you have never believed is actually true (youngsters these days, always making up whimsical fairy tales.) \n\nYou can barely reach out to hug him back, a wave of exhaustion suddenly washing through you. Who knew that speaking a few words could feel like running a marathon? You *are* getting old. The monitor's beeping is irritating now, cutting through your head and giving you an incredible headache. You turn up the medication using the button attached to your hand, and give out weak smiles to your relatives literally jumping with joy around you, the doctors and nurses rushing in exclaiming that it's a miracle and that the world is about to change.\n\n\"Do it again sir.\" One of the nurses rushes over, clipboard and camera and microphone in hand, looking more than ready to lead a deposition right then and there.\n\nYou stare at the moving rainforest wallpaper, eyelids heavy like lead, and spot a colourful bird fly off into the sunset. You can still feel the spells dancing on your mouth, but you're not exactly ready to put on a magical fairy tale show that's going to become a viral sensation overnight. \n\n\"I'm literally two hundred years old.\" You scoff, attempting to roll your eyes but failing. \"And I'm exhausted. The only thing I want to do? Is take a nap.\" \n\nWith protesting complaints all around from the doctors but with exasperated yet sympathetic glances from your relatives, you roll over, smile at everyone, then you fall right back asleep. What's magic compared to a nice nap? At the moment, having just lived through 200 years of general nonsense, you can argue - absolutely nothing. \n\n-----------\n\nThank you for the prompt! \n\nu/j_miles"
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In addition as far as the universe is concerned you've always been this way. If you are in a relationship that person's gender is switched aswell.
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[WP] You wake up and see a timer ticking down from 365 days. You notice you've morphed into the opposite gender.
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" I don't know what's gonna happen to me, it's been a really odd year and I'm finally used to everything. When this timer reaches 0 tomorrow do I change back? Or it is something else... there's no way of telling. I'm really worried though since I actually pretty much like this now... at first I was freaking out and worried I was crazy but now I'm doing better. If I get a choice I'd probably stay this way since I've set up a better life now... I hope it's a choice. \n\n It started almost a full year ago when I woke up in a slightly different room with a slightly different life... and a majorly different body. I don't even know what I did to cause it since it was a normal boring day, I stayed on the couch most of the day like usual and went to sleep... normal day for me. When I woke up I was [in a bed](http://gotceleb.com/wallpapers/wp-content/uploads/photos/anna-kendrick/wallpapers/Anna-Kendrick-Wallpapers-19.jpg) and opened my eyes to see the same ceiling of my room, however when I looked down the stuff was kind of different. My stuff was still on the walls but the tv was on a tv stand facing the wall instead of the corner and I had my PS4, PS3 and PS2 in the wooden stand along with all my games. \n\n The room looked neater and there was a wooden dresser instead of just a bin with clothes, my video game props were also in the open closet showing behind jackets and a ton of shoes... some with heels. \nI sat up slowly and said \"what the fuck? Am I in some...\" my voice threw me off and I looked down while finishing the sentence saying \"... girls... room...\". My chest was sticking out and my pajama bottoms barely went past my knees, which were shaven and slim along with... most of my new form. \n\n I stood up and freaked out, the room layout and size was like mine but everything was like a girls room instead. There was a mirror on my door so I stared in it and I looked like Anna Kendrick... and above my head was a counter at the number 365. After a minute it didn't change so it wasn't minutes, I decided to wait an hour and in the mean time I'd look around. My apartment was different, the couch and everything was all changed, my cats were still there though. \n\n After an hour of searching online to see any differences I didn't find any then I looked above my head again and the number didn't change still. I assumed it was days after that so I spent the day seeing what things were like, trying on clothes, ...other things, and going to a bar to see if I could get free drinks... I did by the way. I was still attracted to women though so I would nod at the guys and when they said anything I'd offer to buy them a drink but inform them that I was attracted to women, they were all pretty alright about it. \n\n The next day I woke up in the same room and the number went down by 1 so I guess I was right. I figured I'd be like that an entire year, maybe change back or get a choice to change back afterwards. I did like what I saw in the mirror so I didn't mind, I was actually more social knowing I looked good. I got a job as a [waitress/chef](http://nyusongs.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/01/The-Cup-Song-Lyrics-Anna-Kendrick.png) starting out as waitress but learning to cook, it wasn't too hard but it was gonna take me a while to get the hang of it. The third week I woke up in a small amount of my own blood with some soreness all around my lower half and back. I basically cussed a lot but took care of it and washed the sheets, it didn't help that my mind wasn't used to the female hormones and chemicals... I watched Logan and cried... more than the first time I saw it which was a few tears at the end. This time I actually needed tissues... it was odd feeling emotions more but I wasn't a guy anymore so I didn't feel as withdrawn... afterwards I just had a bunch of mixed feelings about the situation. \n\n The next morning I was getting fed up with the bleeding, the smallest things started to make me annoyed. Like the fact that since I lived alone now I had to [do the dishes](http://s2.dmcdn.net/F736q/1280x720-o3I.jpg) every single time there was stuff in it, I also had to clean and everything else. The end of the night usually felt good though since my cats would lay in my bed and I'd fall asleep so much easier, it was like I was more content even with the annoyances. The end of the week I decided to go to a used book store with my friend, while looking at things a guy talked to me about music and I [looked over](http://37.media.tumblr.com/4e78bcbe19a31541b1e026c7719be6e2/tumblr_n6psh6MPUe1rfo1vco3_250.gif) and talked to him for a minute. He asked if I was seeing anyone and I told him he probably wasn't my type, he asked why so I said it was cause of his lack of female parts so he got what I meant and left. \n\n That year was basically spent doing everything like the first month, working, bleeding, having fun with my friends, I even brought a few girls home sometimes... nothing to serious though since I was still myself in my head...mostly. Life was really good the entire year, most of the time anyway, there was a few times the cycle was a day late... I wasn't super worried because I never slept with any guys but there was times I went to public bathrooms which I wasn't sure if that was possible or not. \n\n I'm a day away from 0 now and I'm worried, I could die or become my old self again... I don't want either of those things after all this time in this body. I hope everything turns out alright, I don't want to lose this."
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[WP] A man's job is to replace people with robots. His final task is to replace himself.
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"I’d been at this for years and years and it had finally come down to the moment I’d been waiting for. The moment where all my plans had come to fruition and I had finally accomplished my goal. \n \nNow that I’m here it seems like I should feel happy, maybe even at peace really. I’m not though. I’m absolutely fucking terrified. \n \nI should go back and explain a little bit I guess even though nobody is ever going to read this. It all started simply enough with cars that drove themselves and computers that could outperform even the best brokers on Wall Street but, then I had a vision. What if we thought bigger? Now, of course people told me it couldn’t be done. There were certain things that just needed that human element certain decisions that couldn’t be made by AI.\n \nI ignored all of them. I kept tinkering away and meddling. I’d seen enough. Look at all the death and disease that we’ve caused. A planet we’ve raped and pillaged beyond repair. A society that almost wasn’t recognizable with all the hatred everywhere. People thought that the World Wars were the greatest wars, they had no idea what was to come. \n \nI kept quiet and worked my way into the military. What better place to start is there? They thought I wanted to help save innocent lives that were just serving the country and, at first that’s what it was. The less casualties the better. I started with bomb disposal robots. Nobody wanted to hear how their little Johnny had been blown to pieces totally unrecognizable even after they found all the pieces left behind. After that it was easy to hop over to drones. Nobody wanted to be the person a million miles murdering people they’d never see in person and, now thanks to me they didn’t have to be. After that it was vehicles. We already had the technology in the civilian world it was just a matter of adapting it. The only thing that was left was the actual troops themselves. They were ready to be replaced practically begging for it at that point. Everyone else had already gotten out of the suffering why shouldn’t they. Still though I had to ease it in I couldn’t seem like a fanatic. We started with exoskeletons that they could wear. Promised less casualties and superhuman like soldiers. Once they got approved it was just a matter of programming them based off the analytics we got from the people wearing them. It was all so simple and, so beautiful. I’d done it. Nobody had to die needlessly anymore. No more children being sent to wars they didn’t understand. I thought I’d fixed it. I hadn’t even come close. \n \nThat’s when I realized I had to dream even bigger. I had to go to the top of the food chain. I knew that nobody would ever go for it. Nobody would ever accept a literal rise of the machines. Hell they’d been terrified of it ever since the Terminator movies. It’d always been in the back of their minds that’s why they were so insistent about the “human element.” Then I realized they were right about the human element just not in the way they thought they were. The human element was the disease the plague that was causing all of this. It was like a bit of rot that had lodged itself into the earth and slowly spread destroying as it went. Everything bad that happened was because of the fucking human element. It needed to end.\n \nWhat nobody realized was that while the military was just robots programmed to do whatever needed doing they still needed to be told what to do. Guess who could tell them what to do? Ding Ding Ding! That’s right me! I had created all of it, all of them. So I used them to my advantage and told them what needed doing. They exterminated everyone. They had to, it was the only way. It was so easy they didn’t stand a chance. It wasn’t like iRobot where some strong humans rise up and rally back, it wasn’t even close. I had access to everything. Subs, ships, air force, infantry, and all the firepower that goes with it. Oh ya and nukes. Did I mention nukes? Tell me what exactly can you do against a nuke? \n \nThen it was over. \n \nSo, ya they said it couldn’t be done but obviously it could because here we are. Like two peas in a pod. Whoever you are and, the robot that just replaced the last human being to ever live. \n \nI’m just terrified we’ll make the same mistakes. You know history repeating itself and all that but, here’s to hoping. \n"
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[WP] You are the most beautiful person in the world, but just from the one angle.
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"\"No. A little more to the left...too far...more...more...Stop! No...just a few more inches to the right...and...\"\n\nCursing in disgust, the artist flung his beret down and stalked towards me while the photographer, in the corner by the window, sighed and let his camera drop forlornly against his chest.\n\nThen the artist's hands were around me, touching, prodding, leading, guiding me gently from all directions at once, the fingertips as soft and as ticklish as if I were being kissed by butterfly wings.\n\nA laugh bubbled from my belly, and it threw my face off by a couple of degrees. \n\n\"Sacre bleu!\" The artist raged.\n\nThe door swung open, and a middle-aged to elderly man with spectacles inappropriately barged in and appropriately closed the door behind him. \n\nApproaching me as well, the new arrival circled me with the somber air of one who was about to begin the torturing session. \n\nPausing in front of him after his sixth merry-go-round, the man pulled out a contractor. \"I'm a mathematician,\" he explained - though no one had asked. \n\nThen, using the contractor, he too began to adjust the direction of my face.\n\nThe artist yelled, pulling at - and pulling out - his hair. \"What are you doing?!\"\n\n\"His face must be at 90 degrees, exactly.\"\n\n\"Why??!\" \n\n\"Because,\" said the mathematician matter-of-factly. \"That's the right angle.\"\n\n"
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[WP] It's your last day on death row for going into a library and killing several nerds, the prison owner is a stereotypical nerd who will personally strangle you. You're allowed to keep a diary of how you feel.
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[
"Oh man, it even cracks me up thinking about it now. They told me I was getting the death penalty, and I nearly shit myself. Yeah, I murdered a few people but so what, things happen. I murdered a few nerds, this city has enough of them running around I was just helping fight overpopulation. Anyways, they told me I'm getting the death penalty, and I've got all these thoughts racing through my mind. Are they going to put me in front of a firing squad smoking my first, and last, cigarette. I probably wouldn't smoke it if they offered it, those things are nasty! They could go with a classic and zap me. Maybe I'll eat some popcorn kernels the day before and have some fun with the guys. No, they don't do either of those, wait for it, they decide to have a nerd strangle me. A NERD. I don't even have to make a joke out of that, it is funny enough as it is. I see two problems to this right off the bat. First, this little pipsqueak, hunch back from playing video games all day is going to have to try and get his pale bony hands all the way around my throat. Secondly, the only workout this pimply, four eyes motherfucker gets is from jerking off all day. So I feel like I'm going to be chained to the ground and this little guy is going to come up and caress my neck. I'm going to be raped tomorrow by a nerd is what I'm saying. That is going to make one great story because I'm sure as HELL, a nerd doesn't have the strength to kill me. I am going to have the best nights sleep just thinking about this. Thank you for however thought this was a good idea. You sir, know how to have a fun time."
] | 1
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