Split (1)

train · 199k rows

post_text stringlengths 0 17.5k	post_title stringlengths 8 314	comment_texts listlengths 1 74	num_stories int64 1 74
	[WP] It is completely casual for everyone to be very violent	[ "I woke up smash my alarm clock sweep it into the pile with all the others and put a new one in its place. Than I wander into the kitchen to find something to eat. Finding nothing, I sigh and punch a whole in the wall. Guess ill just walk over to that pancake house about a block away. On my way I accidentally knocked into an old woman, she got upset and decided to plunge a knife into my stomach three times. I yelped and fell to the ground. The old woman rolled her eyes and called an ambulance. The medic upon arrival laughed at me bleeding on the ground. \"what happened to this sorry sucker?\" he chuckled and popped his gum. The old woman told him how I had bumped into her than flashed the medic her bloody knife and they both laughed. He than scooped me up off the ground and tossed me in the back of his ambulance along with at least ten other wounded \"sorry suckers\". Two guys next to me were fighting with their arms (which were no longer attached to their body's) and an arm thwacked me in the face. I was weak from blood loss but I managed to elbow the guy in his groin. when we got to the hospital the place was mobbed. From people with serious injurys to the stupid teenagers who hang out there because they're too spoiled to wait for an ambulance when they get hurt like everyone else. I hate that type of kid so I kicked open the back of the ambulance and shot three of them. The other two got pretty pissed and charged at me with those new long range electrifying thingys the kids play with. I practically died of laughter at these angry kids with there little toys. Than I literally died of blood loss or electric shock or something i'm not actually sure.", "I was out of my seat before she finished her sentence. I grabbed a handful of her hair and almost lifted her off the ground by it as I started to slapping her across the face. I was nearly twice her size and after the third hit she collapsed to the ground. I wasn't about to let go and I went down with her. \n\nI balled my hand into a fist and raised it, ready to strike the waitress as I shouted at her.\n\n\"No, Pepsi is not okay! I wanted Co-\"\n\nThe world went white. The hit wasn't hard, but when you knee a man in nature's great equalizer it doesn't take much force to take the fight out of him. I should have been careful about how I landed on her, but I was too worked up. Pepsi? I mean come on. It's 2017, for god's sake. What kind of a restaurant doesn't have Coke?\n\n\"We do have Dr. Pepper, though,\" she said as she stood up, blood trickling down her nose. One of her cheeks was bright red.\n\n\"Oh, well why didn't you just say so?\", I asked with a smile. \"That's even better than Coke!\"\n\nShe helped me back into my chair (I was still pretty out of breath) and left to get our drinks while my friend Steve and I opened our menus.\n\n\"So what's good here?\"\n\n\"Oh, you've gotta get the tuna steak, man,\" Steve insisted. \"It's to die for.\"\n\n\"Sounds like a plan. Any way, about that merger.\" The two of us closed our menus and discussed the merger that the day's lunch meeting was all about.\n\nAfter a few minutes of business talk the waitress returned with our drinks. My Dr. Pepper came in one of those glass bottles you hardly ever see. \n\n\"Now what can I get you boys to eat?\", the waitress asked us.\n\n\"We both want the tuna steak. I've been talking it up to my buddy here, and he's excited to try it.\"\n\n\"Oh, sug, I got bad news for you.\"\n\n\"Oh no,\" Steve said with a frown. \"You guys aren't out of tuna, are you?\"\n\n\"No, but we've only got one tuna steak left. Only one of you boys can get it.\"\n\nAs one, Steve and I turned away from the waitress and made eye contact. He grabbed his fork off the table as I grabbed by bottle of Dr. Pepper by the neck. I smashed it on the table and leaped over it at Steve, aiming the jagged glass at his throat. " ]	2
	[WP] Two people fall in love at the same time. Slight problem, they both fall in love with you.	[ "They smell good. They smell different. The one with the blue body covering smells strongly of a scent I don't know, but wasn’t like others. It wasn’t bad, but I think it isn’t its own. The one who stood next to it, in gray, smelled of grass and something really strong and the smell that the things they call car rides make. They speak fast to each other, and slow to the leader. \n\nThe new pair smell very alike. I think they might be from the same pack. One is older, and smells it. The young one smells a little like grass too. They speak to the first pair, then wait for them to speak back. It’s strange. I know the one in the blue covering, it has been here before. It speaks to the leader when it comes. It plays with me, but not now. I’m excited to play with her again. \n\nThe one wearing the blue shirt spoke with its companion, rapid-fire like I’d heard them do before. They spoke with the leader. The leader spoke with the youngest’s companion, who spoke with the leader, who spoke with the-\n\nThe youngest wants to play. I just want to play with the youngest. Or the one in blue. Or their companions. They speak so much, I speak too. Why don't they play? They all look at me, then speak more. The youngest plays while the four others speak. I licked its face, wondering if it had any food. I think it made a noise of joy, but it moved its face away. I’m confused. \n\nCamila had finally brought her husband Eduardo, who seemed to be open to the idea of a dog for their family, but was shy. He didn’t speak English as well as his wife, a secretary, and gave only short answers to my questions. He seemed distracted, like he’d rather be somewhere else. At work most likely. Judging by his dress he was on a break. My guess was landscaping. I brought Brownie, so named due to his chocolate lab coloring and lack of a name tag when he was abandoned on the side of the road, out so Eduardo could meet him. He smiled instantly, saying “he’s big,” and spoke with his wife in Spanish. Camila had come in looking for a small dog, but had taken to Brownie instantly.\n\nThen Arthur and his grandson Sean came in. I'd learned their names after Sean made a beeline for the aging Brownie, and I introduced myself to Arthur. He, Camila, Eduardo, and I discussed how to proceed. I got the feeling Camila had her heart set on Brownie, but the longer the young lab played with Sean the more all four of us could see they adored each other. \n\nAfter some discussion, I offered an out to Camila; a more social dog. A husky; a more high-energy breed who would be able to keep up with her four children. Five, when her unborn child was old enough; Camila was obviously pregnant.\n\nThe leader gives the youngest’s companion a few items. They speak more while I play with the youngest. They did something with really thin things that smelled like weird, bland plant, using their front legs to make parts of it black. The youngest showed me his teeth and put his front legs around me. I didn’t like that, but it didn't hurt. When he let go, a thin thing was attached to the thing around my neck, and I followed them to their car ride. \n\nI think I’m going with them.", "Love's lilt lies in dark valleys and distant hills \nThe trajectory of its course beyond our scope \nSneaking up sideways with raw electric thrill \nIt demands full control of all we could cope \n\nHis hair was red, and his eyes were smoke-grey \nThey looked at me with a longing most tender \nIn my mind, I shouted \"No! No! Go away...\" \nBut his touch was kind, and I reveled in its splendor \n\nHer skin was like silk, her laugh like a song \nHer words pulled me deep into her embrace \nI tried to resist, push her away! I knew it was wrong \nBut she knew the truth from my heart's rapid pace \n\nI pulled at my hair - this could not go on! \nLest three hearts burst woefully asunder \nI needed to end this, make it all gone \nBefore their souls were hurt from my blunder \n\nAnd so, I concocted a plan \nMasterfully put it in place \nTo save one woman and one man \nI ignored the tears on my face \n \nBoth came to the restaurant \nBoth in their finest and best \nBoth knew what they wanted \nBoth fell for my test \n\nI watched from afar \nAs they stared in confusion \nAt a situation most bizarre \nAs it shattered their illusion \n\nI now think back to this memory with a sad joy \nFor it ended what once was, and began what's grown \nMy plan had worked, I had accomplished my ploy \nThey found each other, and I was alone. \n\n_______________________________________\nLiked that? More stories [here](https://www.reddit.com/r/Idreamofdragons/)!\n\n\n\n\n\n" ]	2
	[WP] In a world with superheroes, villains and secret identities, blind dates awkwardly dance around the question- "Do you have a superpower?"	[ "\"Sorry about that, I'm just a little nervous around candles and fire!\" \n\nMy date had jumped after the restaurant attendant had set down a lit candelabra. He grinned sheepishly and explained, \"I'm scared of candles because I got burned when I was a young child.\"\n\nLikely story, I thought. You could probably light these candles just by thinking about...\n\n\"Good evening!\" The waiter said, startling me out of my profiling. \"Would you two like something to drink?\" he asked.\n\nMy date, a short and charming man, spoke first, \"Yes, I would like a margarita, and for you my date...let me guess...\"\n\nHe stared at me intently and I realized this could be it! He was going to read my mind. He must have psychic powers. \n\nThis could be Psychon himself! \n\nI clenched my fists, generating a spacetime micro-kernel, ready to refract myself at the first sign of mental intrusion.\n\nMy date snapped his fingers and presented his guess. \"You want a vodka cranberry!\" he concluded with a wide-mouthed smile.\n\nI hated vodka cranberry. \"That's exactly what I wanted, dear! You are such a mind-reader.\" I smiled slyly at him and winked a slightly buzzed wink.\n\nI got my vodka cran' and sipped at the red acid with ice. the night continued on with pleasant conversation, and the drinks continued to flow.\n\n\"Well sure I'll tell you a little about me,\" I said, definitely starting to 'not mind' these vodka cranberries after my fourth one. \"I'm just a simple girl, with simple tastes from a small, small town.\" I looked to my date for understanding. He appeared to be listening. \"Guess how small, just guess.\" I said, draping my arm over his shoulder, causing one ice cube to slide out and tumble across the floor.\n\nI snorted, “I mean guess how small the TOWN is. Not guess how small my, uh..are.” \n\nHe replied, “Ten thousand people, right?”\n\nI laughed, “Wrong!” And to show him how small my town was, I projected a floating image.\n\n“Oops,” I hiccuped.\n\n“You have superpowers!” he cried. “Of projection and light manipulation. You must be Elitetra!”\nAnd my date suddenly rose from the ground, a red field wavering around his body. That is when I realized he was trying to infiltrate my mind! I quickly used the mental shield that had been supplied to me by my brother, a secret mad scientist.\n\nI began to create a slow time vortex that I would use to stay a step ahead of his attacks.\n\n“And you must be Psychon!” I said, “You thought your mental powers could…” and then I realized something was wrong. \n\n“Wait a minute. I’m not Elitera…” I said, turning off my vortex.\n\nMy date stopped hovering and came to a rest on the ground. “And I’m not Psychon.” His red field faded. “I’m Mentalo, from Los Angeles. I just moved out here.”\n\nI let out a huge sigh and turned off my mental shield. “Oh my god, I heard you were coming out here. That’s so crazy. Hey let me say welcome. I’m SpaceCase.”\n\nWe shook hands and sat back down at the bar and had a few more drinks and a few more laughs. At the end of the night he walked me to the cab.\n\n“So,” Mentalo said. “Want to do this again sometime?”\n\n“No, but thank you,” I said. “I don’t date other supers, you know?”\n\n“I respect that,” he said, nodding. “But can I ask why not?”\n\n“Well I’m actually not even human, I’m an alien,” I explained. “I just happen to look like a beautiful girl to your species.”\n\n“Yes, you certainly do,” he replied in a friendly tone.\n\n“But,” I continued, “I am morphologically more like your males than your females.”\n\nMy date, Mentalo, continued to smile, but his blinking increased in rapidity. “So,” he asked, “are you telling me that you have a…”\n\nI caught what my date was pitching and replied, “Yup. I’ve got one. So if you’re ever playing baseball and you need a someone to come-a-swingin, then I’m your Richard!”\n\nMy date equally laughed and coughed.\n\n“Uh, yeah, OK. I’ll give you a call then, I guess. Or let me know if you need work. Uh good night.” Mentalo said.\n\nBefore he got into the cab he had called for me, he gave me a friendly lean-in hug - which was probably for the best since a tighter embrace might have tipped him off that I was in stiff need of a leak!", "It was our second honeymoon. Mary and I had been traveling the world together for a while now, and had no plans on stopping anytime soon. We were good for each other. She was serious, and driven, and forward-thinking. \n\n\nAnd I...\n\n\n\"Remember our first date, back in the cafe on that little island -\"\n\n\nI was sort of an ass. But in a roguish way, I hoped. She was too good for me, and I strove to make sure she never came to realize it.\n\n\n\"Hawaii?\" Her eyebrow raised with incredulity, but her smile was soft and knowing. I had to try harder than usual to get a real rise out of my wife, these days. \n\n\n\"That's the one. We'd both just come down from the same floor of the hotel, the street music was too loud, the coffee was too expensive, everyone was roaring drunk and groping- \"\n\n\n\"Including you, ass!\" \n\n\n\"Guilty, no argument there. I'm not complaining about where it got me though. We got wasted, went back to your room. It was so romantic, thinking back.\"\n\n\n\"Romantic? I asked if you had powers and you laughed in my face!\"\n\n\n\"I leaned in, kissed you, and asked the same - 'Would I be hooking up with writers in Hawaii if I did?' - though it was probably a bit more slurred than that.\" She was blushing now, biting her lip. Just a bit more teasing to get her out of her shell.\n\n\nThe earth shuddered, then. An alarm - one I'd always feared - blared off into the night, cutting through the traffic-noise and city buzz. \n\n\nIt had to happen eventually - the League of Villains had never attacked the same city twice in a row before, and I'd kept a stable job writing articles about the aftermath of their attacks. \n\n\nIt was a risk I'd accepted - that they'd break form and do something while I was still around. It was a fear, but one I'd come to terms with. There were shelters, and heroes - nothing organized, it didn't pay enough to keep up with the casualty count. They'd be driven off - allow themselves to be driven off, for whatever twisted reason - before they could do too much damage. \n\n\nI hoped.\n\n\nWhat rattled me was Mary's reaction. I'd never seen her afraid - never seen her hands tremble like they were now.\n\n\nShe placed a tenner on the table between us. And as she rose into the air, tears streaming from eyes hidden behind dark bangs, I heard a whisper on the wind. \n\n\n\"I love you.\"\n\n\n\"I lied.\" ", "Three Bells was one of those old-school speakeasies, all tobacco leather and framed Americana. The lights were dim, the conversation muted, tasteful piano filtering across the zinc bar. As Armand spoke, the woman absently twisted a strand of blonde hair and sipped a sidecar.\n\n\"...and that lets the company make payroll, and get an extra month or two to collect, without tipping off the investors that cash is tight.\"\n\nThe woman nodded and uh-huhed.\n\n\"Sorry if I'm boring you, Jenna. I do take my work seriously.\" \n\n\"Not at all.\" She set her drink on the bartop and looked directly into Armand's eyes. \"So, mister big shot accountant, do you do anything on the side?\"\n\n\"Such as..?\" She glanced at her drink.\n\nShe curled her hair, a slight smile playing across her face. \"You know... hobbies... night jobs...\"\n\nJenna seemed interesting, and quite pretty. Armand met her gaze, a grin lifting the corner of his mouth.\n\n\"I dabble.\"\n\nShe leaned in closer, her smile growing. \"In what?\"\n\n\"Well...\" he started, \"you might not quite understand...\"\n\n\"You'd be surprised at what I can handle, Armand.\" Both her hands were on the bar, a fraction of an inch from Armand's. He could feel her breath on his cheek.\n\n\"After hours, I save...\"\n\n\"Yes?\"\n\n\"Books.\"\n\nHer smile dropped imperceptibly. \"You save books?\"\n\n\"Yes, I save books. When I see books thrown away, I gather them up, fix the bindings, freshen up the covers, flatten the pages, and donate them. Sometimes to children in need, sometimes to prisons or halfway homes.\"\n\n\"I see. How... noble.\" She leaned back and picked up her drink.\n\n\"It's not totally selfless,\" Armand added. \"I keep the best ones for myself. I have a second-edition Return of the King, signed by Tolkien himself. And a first-edition copy of The Catcher in the Rye. Plenty of rare and interesting books. Would you like to see them?\"\n\nJenna glanced at the door. \"I, ah, should make it an early night. Gotta wake up early, you know.\"\n\n\"I see. Well, let's get you a cab.\" Armand nodded to the bartender and slid a pair of crisp $50 bills under his glass. \n\nCape chasers, thought Armand, as Jenna's cab sped into the distance. Don't care who you are, just what you can do and how much it'll impress their friends. He sighed. Plenty of fish in the sea.\n\nArmand turned around, took one step, and soared off into the starry sky." ]	3
	[WP] Every person on Earth has the same superpower: to create new galaxies in the universe with their imaginations. But, humans are imagining less and less every day.	[ "“My own galaxy,” they thought, a blink and a dream away from their own tapestry of light and matter, order and chaos, and of course, that rare and precious life. A new existence set in its own place within an endless universe.\n\n“We are gods,” they said, weaving through their creations with an omnipotent eye, rewriting the rules, establishing the narratives, molding their new world the way they saw fit, something better than any had seen or something altogether frightening.\n\n“This is boring,” they complained, when no one came to visit, when their creation was just one in a sea of billions, when they finally realized their imagination wasn’t all that interesting to others and especially themselves.\n\nWe were bestowed long ago with something seemingly divine: the power to create new galaxies in the heavens from imagination alone—to dream of better places to be.\n\nBut it turned out that wasn’t enough. Humans are funny that way. Even with a galaxy to themselves, most would rather attend others’ creations or even become a part of it. Perhaps the thrill of higher stakes was the draw. Perhaps they weren’t ready to be all-powerful. Whatever the reason, as time went on, more and more imagined less, their incredible power used merely to surf the designs of strangers.\n\nWhat once was a brilliant pageant of pixels illuminating the night sky steadily dimmed. As creators abandoned their creations, a distant speck would fade and fade, until only a dark gap lingered between swirling sensations that were waning themselves.\n\nEven the once popular galaxies met their end in the same melancholy fashion. Devout visitors looked on with great sadness as their favorite existence dulled into the void, a ghost haunting a cemetery of stars. The galaxy’s inhabitants knew no better, save perhaps a few who felt the fade. None suffered, a modest solace for those who mourned.\n\n**\n\nIt’s dark tonight. Darker than I’d ever seen it. I feel for the moon. I couldn’t imagine being that lonely.\n\nOnly a handful of galaxies are left. They, too, are popular, hard to miss, still attracting billions who want to escape our reality here but don’t want to put in the work. Being a god is hard.\n\nI visited one of these popular galaxies once. It felt crowded.\n\nOne time I created my own. It felt empty.\n\nNow I’m content to spend my nights on this plain, my back against the cool grass, just me and my dog and the stars, this crowded planet all to myself.\n\nBut as I gaze at the few spirals left, I can sense their light dim, and not just them. I look at my dog, sound asleep on my chest, his fur turning translucent.\n\nI raise my hand to my eyes and can still see the moon, its light fading with me.\n\nI smile and rest my hand on my dog’s head and scratch his ear. It was only a matter of time until someone abandoned us,* I muse, as I…\n" ]	1
	[wp] That's an absurd looking wand. The mistress of mages scoffed. What are you trying to prove with a wand that looks like a gun?	[ "“You’ll see , mistress” I whisper without taking my eyes out of the wand “oh you’ll see...”\n\nI feel the mistress worrying gaze on my back as I leave her book-filled tower...she will become a problem , she wouldn’t let her best student at evocation roam free after what she heard. But I don’t care , the moment she decides to act will be late already , I will have my revenge no matter what.\n\nI use my cloak to cover myself from the powerful rain invading the night sky as I walk this brick path towards the village’s tavern. The joyous melodies and the cheers of all the junkies fill the air , but i am not here for a beer. I look through the tavern until I find him: Lunares Nix , my fellow comrade with a tase for necromancy, drinking at the bar.\n\nHis fun time is thrown out the window when I sit on an empty spot besides him , he obviously notices my presence as his already serious face becomes ever slightly grimmer.\n\n“You know why I am here...” I say , giving him a side glance.\n“Solaris...” he said my name before turning at me and saying “boy , if this is because I bested you in that duel I swear by the name of baby Zeus I will smack you”\n“It was unfair and you know it!” I yell , some of the villagers let out a shared sigh because I...may or may not argue with Lunares almost every weak.\n“Sol , you could have won if you had a better strategy”\n“Are you calling me dumb?!”\n“You charged at me yelling and launching fireballs , is not my fault that one of them hit you”\nWe continued arguing until I showed him the wand and the arguing turned into a fist to face fight for it. The villagers kept drinking as nothing was happening.\n\nSoon , the atmosphere turned gray , the music stopped and the candles turned off as the door opened up. Every soul hid under the tables and chairs as a elegant old woman in crimson red dress walked towards me and Lunares , both of us froze like statues , like if she wouldn’t see us if we didn’t move.\n\nAlas, karma is a bitch , we raised our glance in horror to perceive the disappointed face of the mistress looking down at us.\n\nThe villagers , out of fear , didn’t attend to our screams and cries for help as she dragged us to her tower to do the unforgivable: home chores for a month...and without magic for a year...", "With a stoic expression, I, Theodore Morilec, showed up to my mages' school. I opened the oaken doors to my class' lecture hall, making a creaking sound as I entered. Our teacher, Alana Regley, the Mistress of Mages herself, frowned slightly as I entered the lecture hall. Her tall figure stood imposingly but with an aura of wisdom as well. As the Mistress of Mages, she was one of the highest-ranking members of the Eyrun Magic Society, responsible for lecturing my class of Introduction to Advanced Artificing, which had to do with the inner workings of magical devices. It was uninteresting to me and I would be happy to be kicked out of the course given my lack of enthusiasm. But I had to come today. I was on a very important mission.\n\nTaking a deep breath, Alana noted with a sneer, \"Theodore! Well, it seems that you're late yet again. That's just perfect! We were about to do a practical demonstration using some magic wands.\" She brushed her hand through her curly red hair as I felt a sense of unease. I hadn't expected to have to do my job at this point yet.\n\nShe beckons me to the front of the lecture as I descend the stony stairs of the hall, taking note of the regalia displayed amongst the walls. \"Now, let me explain the magical directionality of magical wands. The particulates used during the initial enchantment of the wand allow spells to channel magical energy into a certain direction. Now, Theodore, take out your wand, and cast a cantrip at the target dummy.\" She beckoned to a wooden pole, with a old cloth dummy attached. The dummy looked a bit worn.\n\nThe Mistress' words started to fade out of my hearing as my heart started to beat quickly. I take out my wand, but slip my other hand into my robe and feel the touch of cold metal. Taking a grip onto it while holding up my decoy wand as a distraction, I comply. \"I'll do that for sure.\"\n\nAiming my wand at the dummy, I start chanting the words of a magical spell, slipping into those of a slowing spell towards a training dummy. Realizing something was amiss, Alana asked, \"What are you trying to do?\" I pull out my gun. It was a beautiful thing. Small, dextrous but capable of ending the life, the hopes and dreams, of another person.\n\n\"That's a strange... device,\" Alana noted. As I aimed, she pulled out a want and created a translucent purple dome facing towards me. \"If you were sent by Tamarak, know that your mission will not succeed. I will stop you right at this moment. It was me who directed the raid on Site Theta, you know.\"\n\nBrushing back my hair, I say, \"You are no match for me, anyways. Magic is obsolete.\" I pull the trigger.\n\nWith a loud bang, the bullet shatters the magical barrier and goes straight through Alana's temple. With an expression of shock and pain, as if she was trying to scream, she dropped down backwards. For such a powerful mage, it was embarrassingly easy. The uproar amongst the rest of the class started building up in panic as I, Theodore Morilec, pulled out a large rifle and aimed it at the crowd.\n\nAs an agent of Tamarek, I couldn't be gladder about the trade of random black liquid through the interdimensional portal. Especially considering that your organization obtained lethal extradimensional weapons, capable of killing the most powerful mages." ]	2
	[WP] Two windows are right next to each other in an office building. By some magic, one window looks out to the surroundings in the present. The other window shows things a few minutes into the future. You are one of the only people who can see this.	[ "40 seconds.\n\nThe door was just there. My legs ached from the countless flights of stairs, my heart pounding in my head, a steady, rhythmic throb. \nWithout stopping, I stumbled down the corridor and pushed the heavy metal door open, my hands brushing over the bright red letters ‘ROOF ACCESS’. The wind hit me right in the face, pressing coolly against the fresh coffee stains on my front. I squinted, shielding myself with a hand.\n\nThe man was right there, rigidly still, facing the chasm below. The tips of his shoes peeked over the concrete edge.\n \n30 seconds.\n\n“H-Hello?” I called out. The only answer was the distant hum of traffic.\n\nI waited a precious moment, my forehead shining with sweat. What was I meant to say?\n\n“Are you okay, sir? Please… don’t jump. Could you turn around for me?”\n\nNothing.\n\nI took a cautious step forward. This man’s life was in my hands.\n \n20 seconds.\n\nThere had been no time to call the police. The elevator had been brimming with people, set for various destinations throughout the building. The thirty-ninth floor before the roof was the last place it would go. So I had rushed for the stairs, hot coffee staining my blue tie brown, trying not to think about the obscene mass of bones and blood that lay at the entrance. The man had flown past the window, darkening the office for a brief second. I had spilled my mug in fright, yelping in pain and earning some looks from my colleagues. James was frowning at me.\n \n“Why’d you do that for?” His voice was full of condescension.\n\n“Did you not see that? Margaret? Austin?”\n\nThe two other colleagues in the room were unresponsive, clearly uncaring about the issues of the new guy.\n \n“Some guy just fell – did you not see? Through th-the window? Did you not see the whole room go dark?”\n \nJames snorted. “Stop creating problems. The day’s almost done and we don’t need to deal with your shit.”\n\nI ran to the window and looked down, horrified. There was a hole in the hordes of people below, who were turning and screaming at the scene on the sidewalk. James must have noticed my stark white skin, for he got up out his chair and joined me. He stared nonchalantly down.\n\n“What the hell? Why the fuck are you so scared?”\n \n“Do you not see that? Down there, some guy just jumped!”\n\nHe laughed and turned back to his desk. “Maybe this job isn’t for you.”\n\nI ran for the exit, bile in my throat. James called out for me. Before I left, I stopped, and looked down again, to be sure I wasn’t crazy. \nMaybe I was. The masses of people still flowed through the street. There was no splatter of blood or jagged limbs. No screams or shouts. I watched a woman climb into a taxi.\n \n“Good. Now come back and sit down.” James watched me furiously as I returned to my desk. “This is not how we do it here. It’s 4:52, just wait eight more damn minutes.”\n \nI looked through the nearby window, and gulped. The commotion was still there. People rushed inward over the red-stained pavement. I looked up ahead. The city clock read 4:57. I cocked my head, and checked my watch. Five minutes difference. After a moment of eternity, it seemed to click, and I turned and ran, navigating through the foreign labyrinth of office cubicles and stairs.\n\n10 seconds.\n\n“I’m just coming closer, buddy. Don’t be scared.”\n\nI took another step, and another. He was right there. I opened my mouth to speak again, but was cut short.\n\n “It’s too late.”\n\n3...\n\nThere was something oddly familiar about that voice. Tears spilt onto the pavement. He spread out his hands like some sort of angel.\n\n2...\n\n“No!” I rushed forward, my hands desperate to grab something. They closed around cool, damp fabric. There was a whipping sound as the tie slid from its collar and the weight drastically shifted as the man dropped out of sight.\n\n1.\n\nThere were tears in my eyes. In my shaking hands was a brown tie, that had once been blue, smelling faintly of coffee.\n" ]	1
	[WP] You come across a Yelp website where demons review the human bodies they've possessed	[ "October 4th, 2017 9:34pm\n\nAnother hour I should be studying, another hour spent browsing the dark depths of the internet. I had somehow found myself on Yelp, searching for “Things to do in Reykjavik, Iceland.” One of the many vacations I planned on if I’d ever made it through college. Lightning streaked across the sky, lighting up the room and pulling me back into reality. I glanced over to the Cup Noodles sitting on the corner of the desk and sighed. As I retrieved my unruly meal for the evening, my elbow knocked the edge of the laptop, tossing it to the floor. Shit.\n\nI leaned down and returned it to it’s place, but it must have had a pretty hard fall because the screen was flickering. This fucking thing, I thought to myself. Old as hell. Beat up as hell. I’m going to need a new one before next semester. Taking the heel of my hand, I struck it two, then three times - for good measure. The screen returned to normal, but Yelp had reset itself to it’s home page. \n\nTaking a large mouthful of noodles, I continued slurping them up as I clicked the search bar. The menu dropped down: Restaurants, Bars, Food, Delivery, Takeout, Reservations, People. \n\nWait… People? That wasn’t there before. I clicked on it. The loading circle hovered momentarily before a large, numbered list unfolded on the screen. “1.Rebecca Flowers 2.James Clarkes 3. Maria Rodriguez” and on and on, with addresses and other information neatly blocked in with the names.\n\nWhat the hell? Curious, I clicked the top name - Rebecca Flowers, five stars. A map popped up with multiple pictures of the same girl. In some she was smiling, posing for the camera. In others, she was carefree and dancing. My eyes wondered down the page. \n\nIt was great. Definitely the best body I’ve inhabited so far. One of the few who actually takes care of it, so if you’re looking for a nice vacation, this is your girl.\n\nMy boss swore by this one. Said I needed some time off, pointed me in her direction. She goes to the gym, she eats green food. First time in centuries I’ve felt this good. Plus, her family owns a yacht!\n\nGreat selection and great housing. There are no surprises with this one. Nice, large mansion to stretch and relax your weary legs.\n\nWhat. The. Hell!?\n\n&nbsp;\n&nbsp;\n\nOctober 7th 2017 6:34pm\n\nPage 110. All of these people... All of these people were possessed at some point in their lives, most of them multiple times. I can’t trust anyone. Shaking, I lifted a cup to my lips. Coffee wasn’t enough, but it was all I had right now to keep me going. You can’t just find something like this and stop digging. Click. Next page. I read more and more. No one was who they said they were. Every few hours, I reached for the eye drops. My eyes were burning, but I couldn’t sleep. Not like this. I thought about all the people I was so used to passing on the street, on my way to work. Or all those who surrounded me on the subway. How many of them..? I thought. How many? \n\nHalf way down the page, my heart dropped to my stomach. No. Julia Davis - three and a half stars. I clicked the link.\n\nDecent, but could be better. Doesn’t eat as healthy as wanted, but still not bad for the price.\n\nGiving one star. During the scheduled possession, the human fiance ended the relationship by cheating, wreaking havoc on family and friends. Every human was emotional. 1/10 would not recommend.\n\nDisagree with the above comment. Giving four stars, due to best friend. Said human friend often brings food and gifts in exchange for nothing, even though said human friend is obviously always distressed. Saw human friends apartment many occasions. Was darker than own place of living, much messier as well. Wonders how human friend lives that way. May consider possessing human friend at some point just to clean up life. Will keep an eye on, as am very intrigued.\n\nA sudden knock at the door yanked me from the page. I slammed my laptop shut. \n\n“Yes!?” I called, breathless.\n\n“Hey! Paige? It’s Julie!” A muffled voice called through the door, one I’d known since I was a kid. “I haven’t heard from you in a few days, so I wanted to check up… I brought pizza!”\n\nA chill ran down my spine. Julia. I checked the review - it was written just yesterday. I have to get out of here. " ]	1
	[WP]”There was only one ship.” “One? Are you sure?” “Yes. They called it,the USS Enterprise.”	[ "“And it’s not here anymore? Cause I definitely need to know. Ya see they’re friends of ours and we have to know my man or ya see we gonna have to do some extreme investigation of these here parts! Now do ya catch my meanin?” \n\n“But Captain Lee!”\n\n“Now damn it man, Commander Beauregard and I don’t wanna hear it, now we have a ship just like the Big E in orbit and the paint is barely dry, and we have an Admiral aboard who’d not mind steppin’ off real quick and come down here with about 200 Starfleet Security Personnel to whip ass! Now are ya gonna tell me where Enterprise is?” \n\n“Alright, Jesus, OKAY! I give!! Enterprise was sent on a mission by some otherworldly people. They’re not from this galaxy but Captain Shon insisted, some guy they were talking about named Kirk being alive or something like that. I got outta there! Not the place for me man!” \n\n“Well I’ll be a sumbitch covered in a Texas Oil Field halfway to Dallas on a Saturday night. You hear him Captain Lee, he said ole Jim Kirks name. Now if he’s right we better go after ole Enterprise before she runs into some kinda ambush.”\n\n“Well now hold on there, what about this otherworldly species, what exactly did they call themselves? Did you hear the term Q? Or anything similar?”\n\n“Actually it’s funny you say that, one of em said that they only feared Q, and that they had to warn humans about Kirk or Q would find out and destroy their race for what they’re doing. Sounded creepy if you ask me. Fearing a harmless letter.” \n\n“Son the less you know bout that letter the better off you’ll be. We are outta here! Adios mister! Try and keep ya self sober for four days next time, ya smell like a few houses in New Orleans that Ervin here has visited. Uh Yorktown beam us up if y’all don’t mind.” \n\n“Roger that Captain. See you in five.”\n\n“Well? What happened Bob? What did you find out?”\n\n“We have to track Enterprise Sir, that ole boy Kirk is alive apparently, and Q are gonna be coming outta our ears if we don’t watch our asses. Commander Beauregard set an intercept course for Enterprise at maximum possible speed, you have my authorization to use the slipstream drive. Computer, Yellow Alert, Screens and Shields please. Admiral this way to the bridge.” \n\n“Damn Cap, this is gonna ruin my damn trip to see Chapel Hill, y’all never let us draw the easy assignments Admiral, just gonna get this shit over with so we can stop bailing out every other Starship around. Especially since ole Enterprise is supposed to do that!!” \n\n“Alright Ervin calm down, and get going, Admiral is gonna bust our cod sack like a bear busts the honey jar. Get this over with and we’ll both take three weeks and go see em gals on Risa.” \n\n- Redneck Starfleet Officers Ride Again!!!!", "\"Try hailing them again.\"\n\nThe comely communications officer turned to her console, then back to the center of the bridge where the captain sat in his famous chair. \"No response, sir.\"\n\n\"Captain, I'm detecting lifeboat launches from the human ship. They appear to be heading for the ring. Wait... the mother ship is following them, sir. It appears that it's going to try to land.\"\n\n\"Put a tractor beam on it and scan for any remaining crew.\"\n\n\"Detecting one human life sign, sir.\"\n\n\"Beam him aboard. Spock,\" he said as he got up and made for the turbolift.\n\n~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~\n\n\"Keyes, Jacob. Captain. Service number 01928-19912-JK. Would you mind telling me where the hell I am and how I came to be there?\" the confused man standing on the transporter pad said as he fiddled with an old pipe.\n\n\"You're on the Starship Enterprise, I'm Captain James Kirk. I represent the United Federation of Planets.\"\n\n\"Well, thanks for the save, Captain Kirk, but I've never heard of this Federation.\"\n\n\"Yes, my first officer informs me that we seem to have slipped out of our home universe. We haven't figured out how to get back yet.\"\n\n\"Well, my superiors would like to meet you. Your ship seems to outmatch the covies by about as much as they do to us.\"\n\nKirk opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off by a transmission. \"Bridge to Captain Kirk--I'm detecting a lot of spatial ruptures a few million kilometers off our port bow.\"\n\n\"That would be the Covenant,\" growled Keyes.\n\n\"You'll have to tell us all about them. Come with us.\"\n\n~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~\n\nThe remainder of the Fleet of Particular Justice held their distance and mostly kept to exploring the surface. Soon, the Enterprise intercepted a transmission and learned that the Flood had been released on the ring.\n\n\"Find the Master Chief--our cyborg. He should have Cortana, our ship's AI, with him. She'll know what to do,\" suggested commander Keyes.\n\nAfter a brief search, they were able to locate him and beam him up. They held a meeting and the Chief told them the events as they occurred, from the landing, to the rescue of the lifeboat survivors, to the hunt for the Cartographer and the Control Room, to the search for the weapons cache and the release of the flood, to the gruelling fight through the Library and the confrontation with the Monitor.\n\n\"Sir, every minute we delay is another minute that the Flood is gathering biomass. The Monitor means to fire the ring and if he does, humans, the Covenant... All sentient life in the galaxy, will die. We have to destroy the ring before he does.\"\n\n\"Shouldn't be a problem,\" said Captain Kirk after hearing what the AI had to say. \"We'll beam up your crew and then blow up the ring.\"\n\nAnd that's exactly what they did. Weeks later, Thel 'Vadamee was hauled before the Covenant High Council in chains.\n\n\"There was only one ship.\"\n\n\"One? Are you sure?\"\n\n\"Yes. They called it, the USS Enterprise.\"" ]	2
	[WP] In the near future, mass surveillance makes detective work so easy that the police have forgotten how to do it	[ "\"What do you mean there's no ID?\"\n\nI walk over to my rookie, Jackie, who's standing by the body.\n\n\"I've never seen anything like it,\" she says, kneeling next to the body, poking around with latex gloves.\n\nI roll my eyes. She hasn't been on the job long enough to be able to say stuff like that.\n\n\"Fingerprints?\"\n\n\"Nope.\"\n\n\"Blood?\"\n\n\"Nada.\"\n\nI look around, unwilling to believe that there's nothing to link to this scumbag. \n\nI sigh and shake my head. Then I point to the top corner of a building on the end of the block.\n\n\"Guess you forgot to check for SecCams. A rookie mistake, but an unacceptable one. The first thing-\"\n\n\"I checked the footage. That Cam's been broken for weeks. The city hasn't gotten around to repairing it.\"\n\nIt's just the two of us in the alley. Well, three of us. I'm still not sure how to count the victims. There was a patrol officer watching over the body until Jackie got here. At the end of the alley, streams of people pass by constantly, dipping in and out of streetlights, on their way to the various ways to spend a Friday night. We're in plain view, but no one looks over, and if they do, their gaze doesn't linger. Folks don't pay too much attention to death these days.\n\nI duck under the yellow tape and light up a cigarette. I've been doing this for 20 years, and I've never come across a stiff with absolutely no ID that can point us to the killer. Being a detective has become somewhat straightforward. You find some form of ID - blood, hair, semen, fingerprint - even a SecCam shot will do - and you plug the data into the System. A match pops up in a few minutes or less, and the bad guy gets pinched.\n\nThe System was one of those things where people didn't realize what was happening until it had already happened, and by then, they didn't care. A lot of the information people gave willingly: blood type was for emergency medical purposes. Once DNA sequencing became affordable and popular, A lot of DNA information was uploaded voluntarily for genetics studies. A lot of daily activities became easier if you just accepted the minor breach of privacy. It was kind of like accepting the terms and agreements for software: you know there may be some potential for consequences, but those are far outweighed by the convenience of clicking \"I agree\" and moving on with your life. That was especially the case with fingerprinting. Once fingerprint ID technology became widespread, that became the default key to anyplace that required a lock. Your house? Set the pad to you, your spouse, and your kids. Work? Same deal. Each employee can just press a finger to the pad next to the door, and they're in.\n\nPretty soon, big companies started popping up to keep track of all this information. They provided a service everyone wanted. Then the government came knocking on the doors, trying to access the information of criminals. Then would be criminals. You have to understand, a lot of this was going on behind closed doors. By the time the public had any meaningful knowledge of the extent of what was going on, it was too late, and it was easier to say, well, we're a lot safer now. Besides, I have nothing to hide.\n\nI'll tell you what - it makes my job easier.\n\nI try one last angle, knowing better than to hope. \"Did you check for Microchip activity in the immediate vicinity at the time of death?\"\n\n\"Of course,\" Jackie says, standing outside the yellow tape with me. \"You don't think I would've led with that if I had anything? Trust me, I'm not trying to come across like the newbie who can't find a clue. I've been combing this alley for hours.\"\n\nI chuckle. I think of those old crime dramas they used to show on TV, where the detectives would spend an hour analyzing evidence and interviewing witnesses and suspects. This used to be a pretty tough job. Now, we are to policework what mechanics are to cars. We're supposed to be the experts, the technicians, but we don't have to do too much anymore. We just do the parts the computers can't.\n\n\"Chief's not gonna like this,\" I say, revealing no new information.\n\n\"What's he going to tell the public?\" Jackie asks. \"I feel like they'll flip if the story gets out that with all of the data we keep on them, all of the technology at our disposal, some creep can still just snuff a guy in an alley and get away.\"\n\n\"I doubt he'll just announce it like that,\" I say. \"He's under no obligation to discuss this stuff. If the press really pester him, which they won't, he'll just say the investigation is ongoing, and it will be forgotten in a couple days.\"\n\n\"The family might make a big stink.\"\n\n\"Already checked. No real family or friends to speak of. This guy was a net zero for life. Didn't take much, didn't leave much.\"\n\n\"That's most of us these days, isn't it?\" Jackie says. \"I mean, we're sample bags with legs. You can learn our job in about a week. And I can't speak for you, but I'm not writing the Great American Novel in my spare time.\"\n\nI snort. \"If you were, I don't think too many folks would read it. Maybe if you designed the Great American App.\"\n\nShe smiles and rolls her eyes. \"Oh man. Showing your age, Grandpa? No one calls them 'apps' anymore. It doesn't even make sense to call anything that. It's all tied together, part of the same thing, integrated.\"\n\nI put my hands up in mock defense. \"Alright, geez. Give an old timer a break. It's not like I talk about this stuff with anyone.\"\n\nWe turn and look down at the body one more time, cold and twisted on the broken asphalt. \n\n\"Call it a night?\" I say.\n\n\"We gave it our best shot,\" she says.\n\nWe call in coroner to pick up the body.\n\n\"Let's say we grab a drink?\" I suggest. \n\n\"Shouldn't we wait for the coroner?\"\n\n\"Eh. He's fine. Bodies are gross, this guy isn't going anywhere. Besides, there's no evidence to tamper with. This guys going right in the Incinerator.\"\n\nWe start walking away.\n\n\"Do you ever get the feeling,\" she says, \"that things are just a little too easy? Like suspiciously easy?\"\n\nI smile and look straight ahead. \"Every day of my life.\"", "\"Alrite Pirlo, you're our chief detective here and I need you on this case immediately.\"\n\n\"You got it boss, what's gone wrong?\"\n\n\"Our surveillance systems, they've gone off - all of them.\" \n\n\"And how's that happened?\"\n\n\"We suspect someone's managed to discover the location of our facility here, and hidden a network disruptor somewhere. This could be a set up to something much bigger, we need to get back online as soon as possible, and get a hold of whoever's responsible for this.\" \n\n\"Shouldn't be a problem at all ma'am. Let me just login right here.\" \n\nPirlo swiftly entered his user key and password into the system and hit enter, only to just as swiftly be greeted by a bright red Login Failed screen. He tried again a few times but to no avail.\n\nWith a look of shock on his face, he said, \"Well, this isn't right. I can't get into the system.\"\n\n\"Yeah, that's what I just told you, our network's gone down.\"\n\n\"Sooooo I can't get into the DroneView 3000?\"\n\n\"No. That's the problem. We just went over this, it really isn't that confusing. There's a network disruptor on our facilities and I need you to find it\"\n\n\"Well, uh, that might be a problem.\"\n\n\"What? You just said i wouldn't be.\"\n\n\"Well, I hadn't really grasped the implications of a network disruptor when I said that.\"\n\n\"What's that meant to mean?\"\n\n\"Uh, between me and you, I'm a fair bit useless without the system. My skillset doesn't really go much further than pushing that button,\" said Pirlo, pointing to a massive button with the words 'Find Criminal' written on it.\n\n\"But you're a detective. Surely you must remember something from before we had all this technology.\"\n\n\"Uhhh\"\n\n\"I need this fixed, Pirlo. If we don't have the network back up within the hour, it's on your head.\" \n\nBeads of sweat started dripping down Pirlo's forehead. He knew exactly what it meant for something to be on his head. The thing about this facility was that it was something the world didn't know about, as a result of which, it didn't exactly work within the same rules as the rest of the world. It offered perks which other workplaces simply couldn't give you. \n\nYou mentioned you got bullied in high school? Well, we can get you video footage of everything that guy does throughout the day now. Sure to be some incriminating stuff in there. Use it however you want. \n\nThat was one of the incentives the Hiring Manager had offered Pirlo when he'd first been approached to work here. However as the saying goes, with great benefits comes certain death if you fuck anything up. Pirlo couldn't afford to mess this up. He'd just bought a puppy and there was no way he was going to die before becoming Instagram famous off of cute Golden Retriever videos.\n\nHe dug up a toy magnifying glass from the back of his drawer, and scurried towards the door. \n\n\"Wait up,\" said his boss, \"I'm coming with you.\"\n\nHe paid no heed and ran outside. The facility was located on an island the size of a small neighborhood, three miles off the coast of a ghost town which was completely uninhabited except for one ferry/bus driver who took the facility's employees back home. It wasn't accessible any other way. \n\nPirlo scoured the surroundings, frantically looking around for anything suspicious. His boss ran up behind him, but just as soon as she did, he took off again, pointing at seemingly nothing. She shouted for him to wait up, but again, he paid no heed. An hour wasn't too much time and he had to figure this out. \n\nThe next twenty minutes were spent running, stopping momentarily, observing the surroundings, and then running again. He didn't seem to be making much progress. His boss wasn't doubting his abilities though, still keeping up behind him. Perhaps she was simply looking forward to shooting him at the end of the hour\n\nTwenty three minutes were up by the time she caught up to him at the edge of the island where the ferry stood idly. \n\n\"What're we doing here, Pirlo?\"\n\n\"Well, I think I need to question the ferryman. There's not meant to be any other way onto the island.\"\n\n\"Clever. This is why you're the detective.\"\n\n\"I need you to stay here though, this may not go too well if the ferryman was in on it.\"\n\nShe nodded.\n\nHe walked aboard the ferry. \n\nMinutes passed. \n\nThe ferry took off.\n\n\"Is it done,\" questioned the ferryman.\n\n\"They'll never find it,\" answered Pirlo.\n" ]	2
	[WP] The day when you realize the Earth is actually flat.	[ "It doesn't matter. I mean, not really.\n\nHow many of us use the shape of the earth in our day to day lives? We make dioramas of the Solar System in third grade and look at pictures from NASA's satellites, and that's about it. \n\nFinding out the earth was flat is about on the same level as figuring out that Santa Claus isn't real. It's devastating for all of five minutes, and then you get over it.\n\nA lot of astrophysicists lost their minds. Everything they knew was wrong. They were the only casualties. Life rolls along fine for everyone else.\n\nThe smugness of the flat-earthers is a bit annoying, too. They were so dumb about it from the beginning, no one wants them to be right. If we're being honest, I think it was luck. I don't think they really knew anything we didn't. The best evidence pointed to a round earth. Those crackpots took a shot in the dark and somehow hit the bullseye.\n\nIs it so much crazier than the alternative? Before, we thought we were complex combinations of microscopic particles, that arouse spontaneously out of the void, creatures who shaped and exploited the very rock we lived on, flying through space at unreal speeds. Now we're the same complex organisms, we are still an inexplicable contradiction to probability, only we aren't a basketball spinning on a cosmic finger. Whoop-te-doo.\n\nLook, it's a big deal and all, but there's bigger deals. People don't spend enough time thinking about all the crazy stuff that exists. Life is a contradiction, and existence is a miracle. The shape of the rock that keeps us safe from the eternally expanding darkness of space is the least of my concerns.", "The numbers simply didn't add up. The first gravitonic survey data had finally returned in, and researchers at NASA Langley were busy pouring over terabytes of heretofore inaccessible data on the Oort cloud and other far flung features of the solar system. Everyone was ecstatic, except for me. I saw the error, the flawed link in the perfect chain - and I refused to believe it. \n\nIt was a small burr in an otherwise beautiful data set, but the story it painted was terrifying. A stereographic projection onto a lower dimension. As unbelievable as it was, it was printed in the data clear as day. I might be the first to notice, but I wouldn't be the last. \n\nModern physics imagined the human race as ants on a wire, crawling along in a low dimensional space completely oblivious to the overall depth of the universe, but this data would throw cold water on it. We were instead children playing in sand, believing ourselves on the brink of great discovery, but so qualitatively ignorant as to be blind. \n\nThis changed everything. String Theory, Quantum Mechanics, General Relativity, hell - Newtonian Mechanics were probably on the table. \n\nLet everyone else have their moment of glory, let the champagne be popped. Tomorrow there was work to do - and a flat Earth somehow suspended in a planar dimension to be understood. " ]	2
	[WP] You're growing suspicious that the new hire lied about a few things on their resume. It's a T-rex.	[ "\"So tell me, Tyrone, what exactly do you mean when you said your handicraft skills are second to none?\"\n\nTyrone A. Sirius shifted awkwardly, trying to twidle what you could call thumbs as he thought of a suitable response.\n\n\"Erm...I brought some samples of my portfolio as you requested.\"\n\nI gazed down at the assortment of joined wood pieces, all of which looked professional...too professional, save one that was utter rubbish.\n\n\"You only made one of the lot and you know I know which one it is, don't you?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" he heaved a sigh, \"I really wanted to become a carpenter's apprentice.\"\n\n\"I understand we all have dreams, and sometimes things may stand in our way that might be outside our control, so sometimes we need to learn how to make the most of our current situation. So tell me, is there anything else you like to do?\"\n\n\"I have always liked politics...\"\n\nThinking back of that day, who would have known I set Tyrone down a path of greatness, eventually becoming one of the greatest presidents our nation has been blessed with. For once we have a politician who is only a scaly, cold-blooded reptile on the outside...", "\"So, uh... Mr... um, Rexington. Who interviewed you, out of curiosity? I can't find it in our records.\"\n\n\"Um, Bianca? Bianca sounds right.\"\n\n\"Ah.\" The blind one. Would explain how he got this far.\n\n\"So, um, what's today about?\"\n\n\"Well, today's sensitivity training is about seeing where we can best put you and cause the... least amount of damage.\"\n\n\"I won't! I would never want to cause any damage!\" The newest hire, Tyrone Rexington, shifted awkwardly on the floor, since no chair had fit him.\n\n\"Be that as it may, all employees have to go through this training.\" Serena awkwardly cleared her throat, looking over the resume.\n\nOh, come on--\n\n\"Erm... does this say you worked exclusively in the... Jurassic Park section of Universal Studios Islands of Adventure?\"\n\nHe looks surprised. \"Ah, yes, well, kids always have questions about dinosaurs, right? I was an expert.\"\n\n\"I see you did focus on them in college studies. You also worked at an exhibit at the Jeffersonian institute, how interesting. What was the subject?\"\n\n\"Ah...\" He twiddled his thumbs. \"Uh... dinosaurs?\"\n\n\"I see.\"\n\nSerena sighs. \"I'm gonna level with you, Mr. Rexington, I'm not sure if this makes you a fit for the company. I'm willing to give you a try, since you are, of course, already hired. I just think your expertise could be used... elsewhere.\"\n\n\"I promise I'll prove my worth to you!\" He jumps up. Unfortunately, his head cracks a ceiling tile and brings down two others.\n\nSerena rubs her temple. This is gonna be a long day." ]	2
	[WP] All 10,000 trillion ants on Earth have become self aware. They realize their power in numbers, and form an army to take our planet back from the humans. The war for humanity has begun.	[ "\"Do you see anything, Timmy?\"\n\n\"Nothing yet.\" Timmy says. The little boy is happy that the townfolks rely on him as their scout, looking for any ant colonies in sight. Julia is next to him, also helping him scout in case he misses something.\n\n\"Hey, there is something coming towards here!\" Everyone went silent. The ants can feel the vibration of voices in the air. That is how they managed to sneak up on half the town while they were asleep. Now, trapped in the church, the rest of the surviving townfolks live their life in fear.\n\n\"What? Where?\" Timmy whisper to Julia.\n\n\"There...next to the tree.\" Julia points forward. \"That...that looks like...\"\n\nLittle Timmy and Julia suddenly cheers and open the door. Everyone got scared for a minute, and then exhale in relief when they see a person stepping inside.A man steps into the church, carrying a bag behind him. He smile at the children.\n\n\"Lee!\" Timmy and Julia hugs him. Lee chuckles and pat their heads softly.\n\n\"Hello, kids. I hope you are well.\" The kids nod their head, grinning ear-to-ear. They like Lee. He always tell them stories of his old soldier days. They sometimes help him to tend to his garden, where he grew his own vegetables and sell some in the market.\n\n\"Step away from that man, children!\" Timmy and Julia is forcefully pulled away by a large man in a green suit. His moustache twitches as his face slowly showing signs of anger.\n\n\"I did not give you permission to come in here, murderer! Nobody wants you here!\" The mayor points his walking stick at Lee.\n\n\"What? Can't a man comes into the church for his Sunday sermons?\" Lee huffs.\n\n\"After what you did to my dear Eliza, you dare to show your face around here?! You..you...\" The mayor's hand trembles. If not for the huge distance between them, he would probably had swung it at Lee.\n\n\"Calm yourself, mayor, else you heart attacks might act up again.\" Lee scratches his eyebrow, ignoring the stares of the townfolks. He sits himself at the very end pew in the church, where he always sat, and grab a cigar from his pocket.\n\n Lee was never welcomed in the town. The townfolks hated his clothing, his smoking habit, and also his too-honest words about them. The kids love him tho, and that is what matters to Lee. They reminds him of his son Jeremiah, who died with his wife Eliza, the mayor's daughter, during the first years of the ant war. The mayor hated Lee for being unable to protect his only daughter from the tragic ant attack.\n\n\"Why you little-...\" The mayor's voice was cut off by a small rumble in the floor. Timmy jumps to the window next to the front door and gasp.\n\n\"Oh no!\" Little Timmy shouted. \"They are here!\" From inside the church, everyone gasp as they see the ant crawls under the door frame. The windows grew dim, until someone realizes it was the ants blocking the sun from going in. The ants have covered all means of escape.\n\nEveryone started screaming. Some people close their eyes and start praying. Lee chuckles at the sight, take one of the balloons off his belt and hurl it toward the ant army.\n\nThe small water balloon pop as it hits the colony of ants. Those sprayed by the liquid suddenly stop moving, and after few moment, turn themselves upside down. Confused, even more ants gather around the substance and die from it. The remaining ants stand clear of the liquid, unable to process what is going on.\n\nWater kill ants?\n\nEveryone gasp at the sight of the small pile of dead insects before them. They turn their head to Lee, who is lighting his cigar.\n\n\"But how?!\" The mayor whispers, his voice full of disbelieve.\n\n\"Homemade white vinegar and water solution.\" Lee says as he puff out a trail of smoke from his mouth. \"Kills ants as soon as they touch it. The smell also catch their attention and some more will willingly throw themselves innit.\"\n\nHe takes the cigar out of his mouth and grins. He opens his bag, revealing hundreds of water balloons, just like the one he threw.\n\n\"Everyone, grab one of mah' balloons. Tis' Time to fight back.\"", "\"C' mon Anthony #1776254, let us take the planet back from the humans\" said Anthony #88726524 as he stretched his six arms and legs, each clicking into place like an Army Ant assembling a gun. \n\n\"May we take effect, or die trying, Anthony #88726524.\" Said Anthony #1776254 and they embraced. The strife of a trillion other ants coursed through their veins and at that moment they knew this would be the toughest mound they will ever tackle.\n\nLost interest halfway through.", "This is as good of a place to share this as anywhere else. It'll sound like a conspiracy theory but eventually someone will connect the dots. They've already won. Their combined biomass exceeds ours. They've let our population stabilize - that's what works for them. They live with us and around us - eating our food, our waste and eventually our corpses. Sure, we kill a few now and then, and it affects the colony as much as losing a hair or fingernail clipping means to us. They control our behavior subtly using pheromones. Making us fatter, more lethargic and more wasteful - and we don't mind at all. Humans that get out of line or connect the dots - they make them get sick, get depressed, get careless - and then we die of a thousand causes and the source can't be traced, can't be proven, can't be known.\n\nAnd they are coming for me. I've locked myself away, taped up all the cracks the best I could and I'm eating out of cans - but I've gotten sick, I'm depressed and I've been careless - the empty cans and discarded wrappers have attracted ants. I see them gathering, small specs in the corners of the room - watching me type this now. Soon they'll see you reading it, and while you can control your reaction, your pheromones will tell them what you're thinking and if you believe, even a little bit - they'll know.\n\nI'm sorry." ]	3
	[WP] You live in a world where you have to pay a dollar a day to live. Suddenly, the economy crashes, and you are left broke.	[ "What would you do for money?\n\nThe phrase echoes in my head as I knock on my apartment neighbor's door.\n\n\"Oh\" she says in surprise, when she sees who it is. Her fake eyelashes flutter suggestively. Her wig is fake. She's obese and she smells her age. \n\nAnd she has a crush on me.\n\n\"Did you think about my offer?\" she asks, almost drooling. \n\nNo. Not until the economy collapsed. \n\nBut my baby sister is sick and my mom doesn't have money to buy medicine. I don't want my mom to be in the streets selling her body like I'm about to do.\n\nI nod. If I speak, I'll vomit.\n\nHer robe is transparent. She's not wearing anything underneath. She smiles and opens the door wider.\n\nI go inside.\n\nWhat would you do for money?" ]	1
	[WP] You are the supplier of all the random scrap found in dungeons and forgotten ruins. You have it all, Rusty nails, Burned books, Moldy food, Anything a ruin needs- You supply.	[ "I was looking forward past my horses to my company’s ware-house. It was almost night, and soon it would change into its warehouse form and I could pick up the shipment. The farmhouse bulged as the slipped beneath the distant edge of the land, the wooden frame snapped, as a wall of bricks pushed forward. It only took a few minutes and the house was replaced with my warehouse. As my cart pulled up the main doors slid open revealing all sorts of items. \n&nbsp; \nAfter maneuvering my cart into the cart path I got off, my horses were lead along the path, stopping periodically so the goblins could place the boxes of supplies into the cart. I made my way to the office. This would hopefully only take a few minutes I stepped in and my boss greeted me, “Shaunson come in, our customer tonight made a special order that I’d like you to deliver with your normal load.” \n&nbsp; \n“No worries sir I will get it there.” He smiled, his already gaunt skin stretching further. Then handed me a case, I was sure that it was a wand case. It seemed like there were often special items to be delivered to each dungeon. \nAs I grabbed the case my boss, the eternal liche spoke, “There are twenty charges on that, it needs to have at least ten charges. Though the more charges the better tip you will get.” My boss then spun his chair to face away from me and I knew it was time to go. I grabbed the case and made my way out. \n&nbsp; \n\nThe cart was full by the time I got out into the warehouse proper. I could see boxes being filled with various bits of cloth and moldy or rotten food. One item caught my eye and I smiled a slightly cruel smile. There was an item I had only heard of from a distant land, a pinyatta a paper box shaped like a spider, though instead of goodies being paced inside it as was usual, it was vials of poisonous spiders that the goblins were carefully placed inside before it was sealed shut. Then both the stick and the pinyatta were placed in a box for delivery to another dungeon. \n&nbsp; \n\nI made it to my cart waving thanks to the goblins. Garbalin asked me, “You, the having of rune?” I felt my chest for the rune I was given years ago when I was first hired. It was still on the string around my neck, I nodded to him and his green face seemed to brighten as he gave me a huge smile showing his rows of razor sharp teeth. He was as close to a friend I had in the company, always asking me a parting question. The first couple times I did not have what he asked about, and was able to grab the items before I left for my delivery. He always knew at least one of the items I would need to safely make my delivery. I pulled out a pouch I had bought for him earlier and tossed it to him. He opened it and pulled out the dried meat stuffing a handful into his eagerly awaiting mouth. \n&nbsp; \n\nLifting the reigns I brought them down slightly startling the horses, they started moving and my journey was begun. The wand case was sitting on the front seat of cart with me. I would have a chance to look at the special loot that was ordered later during my first break but for now I had to make it through and past the little town of hamlet. \n ", "Everything coming and going in a blink of an eye; workers constantly going to their specified item pickup, and once it's picked up, another pops into existence. You, were given an endless supply of everything. But you wonder; what was it like during your adventuring days? You don't remember- in fact, you don't remember anything before the current month. Has the monotony gotten to you? Or is it part of the agreement someone has given to you? But it doesn't change the fact you have everything at the tips of your hands; you wonder where all of this is supplying; but you're afraid of being laughed at, so you don't ask your workers. You just sit there on your golden throne, looking like a skeleton. \n\nWearing a mask, you were tasked to pick up and drop off books. You don't know what type of book it is, but you don't question; it's your job- plus the pay is quite enough to live a life of a king. Given you work 13 hours a day, you're not tired or exhausted at all; probably because you're being watched at all times by your boss, which sits on a golden throne; his looks are opposing to what he truly is. Your boss is a forever-living skeleton, which used to be the great Adventurer, Aldrin. " ]	2
	[WP] The day after his execution, a death row inmate awakens to find himself in a CIA black site.	[ "\"I ain't gonna say I'm sorry on the account of I'm not\"\nThat's the last words of Dwayne Rogers, as I read them in the newspaper printed the day after the state sent him to death by lethal injection, under the headline \"Serial killer executed\". There were other details, like the number of victims, the 20 plus year manhunt, and the highlights of the trial. The jury was very quick to condemn Dwayne, returning a guilty verdict in only 5 minutes. The actual trial was over before it really began, and the judge set an execution date just a week later.\n\nIt was a weird feeling, reading the words as I spoke them less than 12 hours ago. After they shot me up, I lazily drifted off to a very deep, peaceful sleep. When I woke, I was back at bunker 942B, rested and waiting for the doctors to come around and talk about how they are gonna rearrange my face this time. I pass the time by guessing what name and cover story the CIA is gonna cook up this time before sending me away to do a very particular type of wet work. \n\nIt's same thing that's been going on since man began building empires. Espionage. The game of kings and pawns. I am one of those people who signed my life over to my government. \n\nThere are a few others playing this game too. Unfortunately the wages of this game are very real. Entire governments overthrown over night. Regime changes. Thousands or even millions of people killed. \n\nSome of the spies are very good at what they do. They were given to, or most likely taken by, their governments at a young age. Trained since almost birth, these people are so well camouflaged nobody would even give them a second glance. They are so dedicated to their cause most of them will marry, hold down a mundane job, even have kids. \n\nOf course the CIA is very good at what they do. They have files and analysts, algorithms and evidence, and sometimes just plain luck. That's where I come in. They tag them and I bag them. The only problem is they technically aren't allowed to operate domestically. So, they have me. \n\nIt's all an elaborate ruse. I've done this some 15 or 20 times now. My trials are always fast tracked. My execution is set no more than a week out, I always land at the same prison, and always the same doctor to administer my lethal injection. Then I wake up with a new appearance and name. They usually give me 10 or so targets they suspect as agents of the enemy, and I do what I do best. \n\nI guess it's about time to go back to work...\n" ]	1
	[WP] You have the power to see stock market values 24 hours in advance. You peer into the future one day and see that by tomorrow morning, all stock will be worth $0.	[ "It is not my machine. Since it is not my machine, it comes as no surprise that I have no idea how or why it works only that it does so in defiance of anything I could conceive of. It has no internet connection, no obvious source of power. Rather it is what I can only describe as a wheezing, perpetually hot, 1980s computer monitor with several yards of copper wire coiled on top. And every day, without fail and with total accuracy; it displays the stock prices of the fortune 500 for the next seven days. Go figure. \n\nThis is my sole inheritance from my absent father. An eccentric mathematician turned hippie turned just about every role in life a person can drift into besides fatherhood. I think he was a rabbi at one point. This is my sole inheritance because, so far as I know, my father lived in near destitute poverty. Go figure. \n\nI am 35 years old. I am sitting in my living room typing this at this very moment. The couch is poul kjaerholm, the drapes are silk. There is an enormous hole in the wall where raiders broke my window to pilfer my supplies. A sallow face man with obvious signs of radiation poisoning removed the wires from my piano one by one while several others held me at gun point. They did not get far enough into the cellar to find the machine, nor did they intrude... deeply enough, onto me to find where I had stored the remainder of my iodine pills when I heard them enter. They weren't interested in the drapes. \n\nFunny that you can't truly break a window. Which is to say, you can, but it's still a window. I can still see the sky. All color has withered under nuclear dust. Years ago I saw a complete eclipse of the sun and I marveled at the odd twilight it created that was never bright enough to be day nor dark enough to be night. We all live in that twilight now. \n\nAt my High School graduation my father cryptically gave me a 20 dollar bill and said \"A cynic is someone who knows the price of everything and the value of nothing.\"\n\nThe pills prevent atrophy of the thyroid, which killed many of those who didn't die in the blast. It is a slow and painful death that I don't wish to experience and I have avoided and avoided all in the hopes that... that what? That things would go back to the way they were? That beautiful women and things would emerge from the ash of my life and return me to bliss? \n\nWhen I found the machine, it seemed to me the most precious thing in the world and that, I now truly understand, is the great joke. The values the machine tracks are now extinct, their values have become that of the machine's, nothing.\n\nI said before that the machine was all I inherited from my father, but this is not entirely true. In my hand now is a polished colt revolver which I have loaded with just the one bullet and down in the cellar, etched into desk on which the machine originally sat in the carved lines of a mad man, are familiar words. \n\nLook on my Works, ye Mighty, and despair!\n" ]	1
	[WP] While browsing this subreddit, you come across this Writing Prompt... Only to read a post under your Username, describing what you're doing exactly as you read it, at least until it begins to take an ominous turn...	[ "Everything has been the same until I stumbled into one post on Reddit. You see, I am an aspiring writer and sometimes when I got a writer's block, I'll spend my time n the internet. My choice is always one of the subreddits: Writing Prompt. \n\nA lot of interesting prompts, even though some of the prompts are weird. Then I stumbled into this one particular prompt.\n\nReally weird one\n\nIt was posted under my username yet I don't recall anything about it. I mean I am a karma bitch, I'll keep tracking my posts and sometimes I curse because I didn't get enough karma.\n\nAnyhow, I clicked on the post and start reading.\n\nWait...\n\nSomething's wrong...\n\nIt's like I'm reading a book about myself. Every single word in this post doesn't make sense and it gave me a little goosebump. This post isn't just telling what I'm doing right now but it also tells me what would happen.\n\nAt first, I was entertained. But now I'm scared. \n\nAs I'm writing this, I've heard two knocks and a whisper. \n\nOne, Two.\n\nAs I heard the third knock, I stop reading the post. I would not finish it. Maybe I'm too tired. This is just some imagination or maybe someone's trying to mess with me, you know, like a prank or something.\n\nAnyone who pulled this prank, congratulation. You did a wonderful prank and I beg you please stop this madness. \n\nI'm not going crazy, am I?\n\nOh God. \n\nThis is happening. \n\nEverything that was written in the post came true. \n\nI heard footsteps.\n\nOne, Two.\n\nThe whisper is getting clear and clear. \n\nI'm you and you are me.\n\nI'm hiding under my blanket now. Someone or something is trying to get inside my room. \n\nI can't help but think how's the story is going to end. As if I lost control of myself, I continue to read the story. \n\nGOT YOU.\n\nHa.\n\nThis is such an anti-climax. The story ends just like that. Got you? What's that even mean? \n\nhelp\n\nhelp me\n\nwell i guess this is it. actually i kind of dissapointed, but it's fine. i got something new today.\n\nsomebody please help me\n\ni'll end it here, the story today. life lesson: if u stumbled a post u never write, u shouldn't read it u know. who knows what would happen, right?\n\n---------------------------\n\np.s English isn't my mother tongue, pardon the grammar :\"'')))" ]	1
	[WP] Write a post-apocalyptic story told through radio broadcasts, news articles, or other media from within the story.	[ "\"Imperium Broadcast Sixteen August, 2500. Alert. We have a Level Seven Emergency happening right now. Planet Godstar had a singularity bomb malfunction. Contact lost with the entire star system. The most likely source is a Reganite Empire sabotage. Please alert any authorities should you spot any suspicious activity.\"\n\n\"Imperium Broadcast Twenty August, 2500. Alert. Emergency level raised to Level Eight. Contact lost with Earth. Current sources state that the Capitals fell back into the planet. Possible mass-scale Reganite assault. All reservist forces are to report to the closest Control Station immediately. God Fleet Three and Four will deploy against the Reganites immediately.\"\n\n\"Imperium Broadcast First September, 2500. God Fleet Three lost to sudden engine malfunction in all ships in a time frame of five minutes. God Fleet Four to continue on. Contact lost with planets Trike, Rayrar, Swiftwind, Causall, Stormfront. All citizens are to remain calm.\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\"What do you mean it's all gone?\n\n\"I mean it's all gone. The planet's dead. Hang on, a distress call.\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\"Imperium Broadcast Tenth September, 2500. God Fleet Four arrived at Reganite Empire Capital Planetary Structure (T0;fF(' three days ago, no life signs detected. Emergency level raised to Level Nine.\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\"I'm saying that this is not something that's just happening to us. The Reganites had their entire capital destroyed. They can't be the ones attacking us.\" The cyborg asserted on the screen.\n\n\"Then who, or what, is?\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\"God Fleet Four here. We've arrived. Goodbye.\"\n\n\"Hang on. What do you mean goodbye? God Fleet Four?\"\n\ncontact lost\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\"Imperium Broadcast Eighteenth September, 2500. The Dual Emperors have issued a warning to all citizens to stock up on basic supplies. Contact with God Fleet Four was lost yesterday. God Fleet Seven to Ten will be deployed as soon as possible. Contact has been lost with planets Rydofar, Trinity, Foxhole One, Foxhole Two, Blessed, Wenduran, Caifar, Siven, Godstar Two, Mars, Odinworld, Ural One, Ural Two, Ural Three, Alpha Trentor, Beta Trentor, Charlie Trentor, Delta Trentor, Ochsallien...\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\"What are we going to do? Keep lying? We lost contact with 40% of the the empire. This is a Level Ten emergency. Raise it now!\"\n\n\"Guards, take him away.\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\"God Fleet Eight. Please respond. God Fleet Eight?\"\n\n\"God Fleet Ten here. Something happened to the life support systems. I don't know what's going to happen to us...\"\n\n\"God Fleet Ten. Please respond. God Fleet Ten?\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\"Imperium Broadcast Seventh October, 2500. Civilians will be evacuating to Bunker Planet One to Seven as soon as possible. Contact was lost with God Fleet Seven, Eight, and Ten. God Fleet Nine is the only one left. Hang on a moment, citizens. I've just received reports of contact with the Reganite Empire. According to my latest sources, their empire has totally collapsed. Emergency level raised to Level Ten. All citizens to evacuate.\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\"God Fleet Nine here. We found something. It's like an ancient relic. Something from outside the universe is doing this to us. It...it...wanted us to find this...it made us find this...\n\n\"God Fleet Nine, please clarify.\"\n\ncrying noises\n\n\"God Fleet Nine? Please respond.\"\n\n\"No...don't you get it? There's no point! It's playing us along like puppets. Free will doesn't exist anymore now that it came into the universe. There's no point in hiding or running. It's got you exactly where it wanted.\"\n\n\"...contact the Dual Emperors. Now! God Fleet Nine, return to Base immediately.\"\n\n\"No, that's not you saying that. That's it making you say that. And it's making me say this. There's no escape from it now. There-\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\"Imperium Broadcast December Fourth, 2500. Scouting ships have concluded God Fleet Nine was destroyed by a sudden mass implosion of unknown origin. Bunker Planets One to Four have been destroyed. Three trillion casualties. Oh god...\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\"I don't think you get it! It's planned it all out, like someone penning a script. We're just playing along now. It's already got the ending written down.\"\n\n\"Imperix Raven. Stand down now.\"\n\n\"I bet you, all over the universe. Every single one of the trillions of civilisations is collapsing now. We can't fight this. We-\"\n\nImperix Raven terminated.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\"I-Im-Imperium Broadcast Second January 2501. I'm the only one left here now. I don't know if anyone is even still alive out there. 100% of the Grand Human Imperium has been collapsed. I got some supplies here, not sure how long it's going to last. Not really following the rules, but I don't think anyone's alive to stop me right now. Umm...all six hundred Bunker Planets were destroyed in just the last month alone. I can't even count how many dead citizens that is. From what I heard from the documents...it doesn't really matter now. If anyone's still out there, get your last drink...and wait for it to end.\"\n\nsilence\n\n\"Man, the cosmos is so fucking beautiful from here. I don't think there's a better place to die.\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\nImperium Broadcast Space Station suddenly lost all thrusters and fell back into planet Volthaven one day after the final broadcast." ]	1
	[WP] A story in the style of "The Twilight Zone" involving fruits.	[ "It's been a year since everyone on earth turned into a fruit. That includes me -- I'm an orange.\n\nIt all started that night a strange, sweet-smelling gas spread across the plains of Kansas. The next day, hospitals were filled with disfigured people -- chests swelling, limbs curling, faces stretching. Soon after, whole cities stopped functioning and fell quiet. The only sound you could hear were the agonized moans of thousands of mangled bodies lying motionless in houses, hospitals, and streets. The same scenario played out across the world. \n\nA few months later, the moaning stopped. Bodies started growing plump and round. Human skin started turning different colors -- red like apples, yellow like bananas, purple like grapes. Hair fell off in clumps. Lips melted into each other. Arms and legs shriveled and broke off from the body.\n\nIt's been a year like this. I've been lying in bed all this time. Vines have started growing into my room. Brown moss coats the walls and ceiling. My lights no longer work.\n\nRight now, the grey dawn seeps through my window. Soft sunlight falls on the floor. I hear a few birds singing in the distance. I've never heard such stillness. I may as well be alone on earth.\n\nSuddenly, I hear what sounds like a large airplane in the distance. As it gets closer and louder, sounds of suction emerge through the din. I see a pipe enter my window and dig into my body. It feels painless -- until the pipe starts draining my juices. I watch as orange juice flows through the pipe. I lose consciousness.\n\n--------------------------\n\nI open my eyes. There's a group of thin doctors in front of me. One of them looks at a computer and says:\n\n\"The programming has been successful. He'll never eat fruit again.\"\n\nThat's when I remember: everyone has to undergo this. Ever since scientists discovered fruit feel pain, this procedure has been the only way to change the public's opinion about eating fruit. " ]	1
	[WP] All of humanity is suddenly blinded by a disease. You are the one human who can still see.	[ "Marissa was sipping her cocktail, a fruity mixture of strawberries, pineapples, and a squeeze of lemon with an added shot or two of vodka. It was our honeymoon, Marissa was ordering double drinks all afternoon, hers to celebrate. The ocean liner sailed through the pacific with out hitting a bump. The weather was divine, cool days with comfortable nights, we slept soundly through the rocking against the waves. \n\nSitting out by the deck side pool, Marissa sipping a cocktail, her floppy hat pulled down her face as her chestnut hair flowed in the winds. Children splashed and played in the pool, the sun was high. The winds had been picking up, Marissa's hat nearly flew overboard, she clenched her hat and drink tightly. I squinted as the winds were nearly blinding, Marissa grabbed my arm. \n\n\"Honey?\" she asked, gripping Mark's arm tighter.\n\n\"Honey, is there something in my eyes?\" she asked with a painful worry.\n\nLike the snap of the fingers, children stopped laughing, men and women stopped chatting. A sudden fear overcame the poolside. People began fumbling as the walked, as if they had just polished off a bottle of Evan Williams. Children began to scream. Parents desperately tried reaching their children, men nearly flung themselves overboard.\n\n\"Honey, my eye!\" Marissa yelped, her drink shattering to the floor.\n\nNoise droned out of Marks body, he watched the hectic scenes unfold in front of him. The eerie panic that had overtaken the playful ground seconds before. Marissa squeezed Mark's arm till her nails drew deep in his forearm, a bead of blood spilled out. Snapping back to reality, Mark faced his dear wife, frantically wiping her eyes, as were most of the the passengers as well. Mark looked on in sudden horror, the winds roared on. The cruise shipped lurched to a sharp right turn, those still standing nearly toppled over board, clenching anything they could grab in their darkness. The loudspeaker rung a high pitch screech, Mark clasped his ears close, grinding his teeth. The ship continued turning, chairs, tables, bags and drinks lurched to the side, flying overboard. The blind passengers stumbled around aimlessly, their cries disappearing into the cold sea. Mark looked on in horror, grabbing Marissa tight. The cruise kept turning, further and further it tilted till Mark had been staring directly down towards the ocean. A sense of vertigo was overcoming him, a sick nauseousness, he felt light headed. Bodies tumbled down with a deafening smack against the hard ocean. Mark, Marissa in tow, grabbed a hold a towel rack tightly secured to the floor. The cruise was now in full topple, the loudspeaker screeched intensely. Mark could hear the roars of the ocean getting closer, the deep groans of the cruise toppling grew louder. \n\nAs the cruise nearly crashing into the pacific, Mark jumped with Marissa in hand into the cold waters below. Plunging deep into the water, Mark's mind raced with images of their children back home." ]	1
	[WP] Ah, the things you can see if only you turn your head at just the right moment	[ "Chloe dipped her head and arched her neck as she gazed at the phone held to her chest.\n\n\"Yeah, haha, that was fun.\"\n\nTappity tap: \"Are you all free next friday? I think the Gorillaz are having a concert.\"\n\n\"OMG HELL YES!!\"\n\nTappity tap: \"Aw yiss! Are you gonna bring Mark?\"\n\n\"I have to, right? Lol..\"\n\nTappity tap: \"Haha okay :D Cya then!\"\n\n...\n\nChloe dipped her head and arched her neck as she gazed at the phone held to her chest. She walked along a sidewalk on the side of a road littered with cars, speeding and stopping and speeding again. The two Brazilian exchange students that walked in front of her burst into a fit of laughter. As soon as one of them put his bottle of water to his lips, the other squeezed the bottle, drenching his face and shirt. The soaked Brazilian choked on the water, found his breath, and laughed as he splashed his friend with the remaining drops of water.\n\n\"Yeah, haha, that was fun.\"\n\nOn Chloe's side of the road, a red sedan honked at a white, oversized pickup truck with a bed full of gardening tools, branches, and a lawn mower. The pickup truck had decided to turn into the red sedan's lane without noticing the sedan. Had the driver of the red car not been paying attention, a collision would certainly have occurred. The red sedan angrily turned into the lane that the white pickup truck had been in (effectively swapping lanes) and sped off. The light in front of both of the sedan and the pickup truck turned red, putting both drivers side-by-side. They refused to turn their heads–even an inch–to acknowledge the other.\n\nTappity tap: \"Are you all free next friday? I think the Gorillaz are having a concert.\"\n\nIn the sky, an airplane hummed past. Attached to the tail of the airplane was a banner that read, \"Vote YES On Proposition 242\". Of course, every politically-informed citizen in the county knew what Prop 242 was: a ban on aerial advertising.\n\n\"OMG HELL YES!!\"\n\nAs a white male with wavy brown hair, blue jeans, a wooden cane, a red and white beanie, and a red and white striped long tee strolled along the sidewalk opposite of Chloe, a large, hairy, half-gorilla-half-man jumped from a nearby bush and mauled the man. It tore off each of his limbs with ease as several onlookers took blurry photographs of the event.\n\nTappity tap: \"Aw yiss! Are you going to bring Mark?\"\n\nBehind Chloe, seven tiny, bearded men followed a young woman with smooth, black hair donned in a blue corset and bright yellow dress. Wildlife, from seemingly out of nowhere, happily chirped tunes as the eight marched along.\n\n\"I have to, right? Lol..\"\n\nThe sky began to bleed a deep red hue as the clouds hurriedly blocked the sun. Black birds–no, gargoyles–fell from the sky and swooped up every defenseless person in eyesight with their large, chicken-like talons. They ripped their victims in half, dropping their spongy remains to the cement that lay a hundred feet below. A great castle constructed of bones and draped with carcasses towered from a wide, fiery fissure in the road. Haunting screams erupted from the castle's pores, paired with an unimaginably horrific stench. Satan–or who can only be assumed to be Satan–burst through the castle of the damned's gates and roared. Every window of every car, house, and structure within a 13 mile radius shattered. The clouds, appearing pink and orange from blocking out the sun in the bleeding sky, extended thousands of thin arms to rapture every human being deemed decent in the eyes of Allah before six thousand years of terror and apocalypse were to be unleashed upon the fallen Earth.\n\nTappity tap: \"Haha okay :D Cya then!\"\n\nAh, the things you can see if only you turned your head at just the right moment–or at all." ]	1
	[WP] The Sorcerer fills his tower with easily escaped traps and harmless quests to give the village children stories to tell. One day, though, some of the hired creatures decide to make some of the "deadly" traps deadly in truth, and the Sorcerer must act quickly without dropping his "evil" persona.	[ "\"Axel... Is dead?\" I stared at my magic mirror, appalled. Axel, whose real name was Maloxel and had earned the nickname through his previous vocation as a vehicular transportation repairman, had become famous for retrieving my 'treasures' in recent years.\n\nI had started the game about ten or eleven years ago, as a way to alleviate boredom; after terrorizing the town for a year or two to build up my reputation as an evil sorcerer, I took over an old mansion and used my magic to turn it into a grand, labyrinthine castle. Then I carefully, systematically spread rumours about special treasures hidden away in the castle that were imbued with magics which could do all sorts of things, from fixing a bad hair day to bringing rain to a localised area.\n\nWhile the rumours took hold, I set up harmless little traps and puzzles all over to make it more adventurous, and later hired a few less dangerous monsters to make it a little more challenging. The harder the challenges, the more rewarding the treasure. And all the while, I presented myself as an evil, all powerful, if somewhat absentminded, tyrannical sorcerer.\n\nAxel was not the first to take on my challenges, but he rapidly became the most popular as he 'stole' item after item from me; twenty-two in all over the years. And oh, the stories he told... I was becoming known all over the world, which brought adventurers from all corners to my little town. Of course I set the bar higher for outsiders, so that no outsider would be able to get a better treasure than my townspeople, but the trinkets and baubles with which they walked away, and the stories they took home to share with their friends seemed to be more than enough.\n\nI was proud of my set up, and I worked hard to maintain an ever-growing variety of challenges without giving away my benevolent intentions. Never, not once, had I ever made a challenge truly life-threatening. And yet, Axel was somehow dead.\n\nFrustrated and fearful for the next adventurer to walk through my gates, I hurried from my throne room and rushed to the corridor where Axel had fallen. As soon as I entered, I understood what had happened.\n\n\"Hydra!\" I called sternly, standing with hands on my hips across from the large moat I'd provided for the water monster. \"I told you not to kill them! Draw out the fight as long as you like, but I specifically told you not to kill the heroes!\"\n\n\"You promissssed I could feed on foolish heroessss,\" one head hissed at me.\n\n\"You promissssed a better life,\" another added.\n\n\"I promised you would be challenged, and I promised to keep you fed,\" I snapped back. \"I never said the two would come together.\"\n\n\"I dessspisssse being locked up,\" the third head snarled.\n\n\"I am not your lap dog!\" the first concurred.\n\n\"You would still be starving in that cold mountain lake in the middle of nowhere if I hadn't found you,\" I pointed out sharply. \"I gave you a warm place to stay, I feed you every day, I keep you exercised and entertained, and this is how you repay me? Shall I return you to your lonely, frozen lake to starve?\"\n\n\"You can't,\" the third head protested, serpentine voice faltering with uncertainty.\n\n\"You sssswore when you found me to give me a better life,\" the second head reminded.\n\n\"And now I have,\" I noted, crossing my arms and glaring. \"There is nothing else keeping me from throwing you back where I found you.\"\n\n\"But...\" the first began.\n\n\"But nothing,\" I cut in harshly. \"I am an evil sorcerer, remember? I followed my promise even though I didn't have to, so don't test my patience. As it is, I am reducing your rations as punishment for killing one of my heroes.\"\n\nEnraged, the hydra reared back and attacked me. I used my magic to block and then stun it, knocking it unconscious. Beyond angry now, I used magic to haul it from the moat and out of the corridor, down to the entrance and out the gate, where I dropped it in the midst of town and set a curse on it to wreak havoc without being able to kill anyone.\n\nMy image as an evil sorcerer would be maintained, with minimal loss of life. I would miss Axel, but there was nothing I could do; even I didn't dare tamper with death and necromancy.\n\nAs I returned to the corridor where I'd housed the hydra, I called my magic mirror to me to keep an eye on the chaos in town while I cleaned up and prepared new traps and tricks for the next visitor.\n\nA wreak groan made me go cold and I whipped around, paling at the sight of Axel, still very much alive, if near mortally wounded, half hidden behind a pedestal along one side of the corridor. He cringed, clearly trying to avoid my sight, and I had a moment of pure panic.\n\nHe knew. He'd heard it from my very own lips; he knew I was not as evil as I pretended. If he escaped, he'd tell the world, and my reputation would be ruined.\n\nIn my hesitation, he coughed, sputtering blood, and my instinct kicked in, driving me to cross the corridor and kneel beside him.\n\n\"Lay down,\" I ordered firmly. \"This is going to hurt.\" I laid my hands on his chest and focused my magical energy into him, seeking out the wounds and slowly healing them, one by one. I carefully sealed gashes and tears, stopped up leaks and filled gouges, mended bones and replaced bits of organs, relieving pain and dulling aches where I could. Axel hissed and groaned, occasionally yelping when I started in on a new injury.\n\nAt last, he was as healed as I could manage, and I was exhausted. I tried to stand to help him up, but never made it to my feet; collapsing, I fell immediately asleep.\n\nWhen I woke, I was covered with a cloak, an overshirt rolled up under my head, and Axel was nowhere to be seen. Distressed, I quickly set up a few puzzles and traps in the corridor, removing the moat, and rushed to find my magic mirror and tune it to Axel.\n\nTo my dismay, he was already in town, telling someone what had happened. Whimpering in despair, I dropped my head into my arms, listening to them talk. Then I looked up again, hope blossoming as the person he was talking to dismiss his claim, saying I must have put a spell on him. Excited now, I watched Axel go around town, trying to find someone who would believe him, but with the hydra crashing through buildings and terrorising everyone, no one believed him.\n\nDelighted, I put the mirror away and resolved to be the source of more calamities, to keep the belief going that I would stoop even so low as to put a spell on someone and make them think me a good person.\n\nNo one had died, my reputation remained intact, and the hydra was taken care of. Now, what other chaos could I manifest?", "Darkness fell upon the land, unearthly howling filled the air, and the dread necromancer of Snoqualmie descended to the parapet of his citadel upon a wave of darkness. \n\nMost people would have instantly assumed that the dread necromancer of Snoqualmie was a villain. He wore spiky obsidian armor. He raised the dead all around Snoqualmie and the mountains that surrounded it. His citadel – which was completely made of black marble – was filled with traps and monsters that terrified the local children. Stories of his dark power spread as far as Seattle and sometimes even beyond. \n\nBut in fact, the dread necromancer of Snoqualmie was anything but dreadful. Back in the days when he had been known as Bob Smith, he had realized that the modern world he knew was turning into a fantasy world like the stories he had once read. Bob knew that even in those stories, evil could triumph for quite some time with devastating consequences before it was inevitably overthrown by good. So Bob, who was coming into his necromantic power by this point, decided that he would play the villain to scare real villains away.\n\nIt wasn’t too difficult. The trappings of darkness were half of villainy already and that didn’t cost him anything ethically. The dead were glad to be raised and walk in the mortal world again. The other half was cultivating a reputation of fear. So Bob lured the local children into his citadel again and again, promising riches and power. And that’s exactly what he gave them – after regaling them with a plethora of simulated horror that would make even the best haunted house makers jealous. \n\nIt worked perfectly.\n\nThat is to say, it was working perfectly right up until the crowd of zombies that had gathered to greet him parted to reveal the decapitated corpses of two children in the middle of the parapet. \n\n“What is the meaning of this?” Bob thundered, his voice artificially deepened by magic until it rivaled Darth Vader in its menace.\n\nA zombie stepped forward. Unlike most of the zombies, who wore an expression of bored apathy, this zombie’s eyes sparkled with malice and hatred. And to make matters worse, Bob recognized the zombie immediately. \n\nIt was Ted Bundy. He had somehow managed to raise Ted Bundy from the dead. This is just spectacular, he thought to himself. I’ve got to think fast, or I’m done for. Or, worse, the children of Snoqualmie are. \n\n“Isn’t it obvious, my lord?” Bundy asked, sarcasm dripping from the honorific. “They’re your tribute. We are supposed to gather tribute for you from the children around the region, after all. These ones fell to the trap just outside the armory.”\n\n“Fool!” Bob extemporized. “There is no trap outside the armory. Furthermore, how did you even get here? I feel certainly I would have remembered raising you, and yet I do not.”\n\nBundy smirked. It was, to his credit, a very malevolent smirk, doubtlessly the last thing that his many victims had seen before he killed them. Bob had never gotten the hang of evil grins, which is why he encased his face in a mask of pure obsidian.\n\n“You raised me by accident on your sweep of the nearby mountains last week,” he explained. “My ashes were scattered here in accordance with my wishes. And as for the traps, I took it upon myself to…upgrade your facilities. So many of the traps simply did not work, and those that did were disappointingly nonlethal. Really, what kind of dread necromancer are you?”\n\nBob raised a fist into the air and Bundy sank to his knees, his body wracking in agony. “I am the kind that holds your unlife in the palm of my hand. Defy me not, fool, or you will taste what true agony means.” \n\nKeeping Bundy pinned to the floor would buy Bob some time. Already, his minions were quaking in fair. He thought to himself for a while. Bundy would keep pushing and pushing. He wasn’t worried about his minions rebelling; his necromancy would keep them from doing so. If he could, he would have magically quelled Bundy’s will, but as a particularly evil soul, he was resistant to that sort of thing.\n\nNo, the real danger would be what would happen if Bundy was allowed to continue. Deep down, the adults of Snoqualmie knew that Bob was harmless. They sent particularly headstrong children to his citadel to teach them some humility. They didn’t send them to die. But if the adults came to the conclusion that he was a threat, they would storm the citadel and that was not a battle that Bob wanted to fight. It would be a slaughter – a slaughter of the residents of Snoqualmie. And that was the last thing he wanted. He had to get rid of Bundy somehow.\n\nBob unclenched his fist and Bundy let out a reflexive breath of air, even though he technically didn’t have to breathe at all. “Your insolence will not be tolerated further, Mr. Bundy. But I applaud you for your initiative. Truly, you are a man who understands the killing arts.” \n\nHe steepled his fingers. “Therefore, you are the right man for my next operation. I require someone exceptionally skilled at killing. I have a mortal enemy, one who is beyond even my power to defeat. But as the most deadly serial killer ever to walk the face of Washington state, I am confident that you will find a way to defeat this beast.”\n\nBundy beamed with pride. Bob almost was a little disappointed that Bundy was so easy to manipulate. \n\nBob waved a hand. A magical image of a lake appeared in the air. A fishing boat was tranquilly fishing at its center until a fifty foot long sea serpent emerged from the depths and swallowed it whole.\n\n“That is the Ogopogo, a particularly fearsome sea monster in Lake Okanagan in British Columbia. I have sought an alliance with it, but it has rebuffed me, and now it will pay the price. Slay this creature and bring me back its head.”\n\nBundy bowed obsequiously, thirsty for bloodshed and jumped off the tower to the ground fifty feet below. He was unharmed by the fall and soon vanished into the woods.\n\nBob smirked. As evil a soul as Bundy had been, he was still subject to the laws of magic, laws that allowed Bob to take away Bundy’s renewed life as easily as he had granted it. Bundy would never even make it out of the forest. He would return from the ash from whence he came and everyone would think he fell before the Ogopogo. And in the meantime, Bob could remove the new deadly traps from the citadel and things would return to the way they were. \n\nThe dread necromancer of Snoqualmie let out a maniacal laugh." ]	2
	[WP] You're sitting on a train, watching the moving scenery out of the window. Suddenly scenes and memories of your life so far and to come are passing by outside. The drive announces the train is about to reach it's final destination...	[ "I sat in my usual spot by the window on the commuter train. I had a book in my lap. Not sure why I bring it everyday as I usually just look out the window and daydream. I worked late tonight so the train was mostly empty. Not surprising as it was Friday. I looked out the window as the early autumn sun was beginning to set, giving the landscape a nice orange glow. I pulled my cellphone out of the pocket and glanced at the clock. 7:30pm is what it read. Shouldn't the sun have set earlier, I thought as I put the phone back in my pocket. \n\nI shrugged it off and continued to glance out the window. I caught snippets of activities in the various backyards. Someone was grilling their dinner, others showed kids playing outside. Someone was mowing their lawn. But then the landscape began to change. I started to recognize the backyards. Yards that were in another town and another state. No where near the route of my commuter train. \n\nI caught a glimpse of the treehouse in the backyard of my best friend Jared. We used to have sleepovers up there, staying up late at night telling ghost stories and reading comic books. As the train passed by I could see the dancing lights of our flashlights and smell the air popped popcorn we made to take up there to snack on. \n\nI told myself it was just a similar house. There was no way I could possibly see into the past like that. My brain was just playing tricks on me. An overdose of nostalgia. Yeah, that was it. But then I saw the next one. It was at my friend Mike's cabin up north. A bunch of us sitting around the campfire, roasting marshmallows and making s'mores. I swore I could smell a tinge of that wood smoke as the train moved on. \n\nThings took a slightly more stressful tone and this one was harder to see. But I knew it immediately. It was my childhood home. This was the night my parents decided to get divorced. I could see them fighting it out through their bedroom window. \n\nI looked away from the window. My heart was beginning to race. What was happening? How could I be seeing this? It made no sense. There was no logical reason for this to be happening. I looked around the car to see what was happening with the other passengers were doing when I realized I was alone. That was impossible, there hadn't been any other stops. \n\nI dropped by paperback book on the seat beside me and stood up. I walked to the back of the car and pressed the button to open the door to the next car. The door opened with a whoosh as I walked through the small space between cars, feeling blast of the cool October air. \n\nThe next car was just as empty as the one I came from. Even though it was later at night, it being completely empty was impossible. I ran the length of the car towards the last one. I pressed the button for the door and it slid open as well. I walked into the last car, hopeful to find someone, but this one was likewise deserted. \n\nI turned and started running back towards the front of the train, my panic only increasing. I had no idea what was happening but I knew it wasn't good. I stopped dead in my tracks as I saw a man approach me. He was dressed in a traditional conductor uniform, which was odd as there was not a conductor on this train normally. \n\n\"What is going on?!\" I demanded, my fear making my voice waver. \n\n\"Everything is going to be fine. I just need you to remain calm. There has been an accident,\" replied the Conductor, smiling reassuringly. \n\n\"What sort of accident?\" I looked around and everything seemed to be fine. \n\n\"Don't worry about that now. We'll be at your final destination soon and all will be explained there.\" Again, the conductor smiled reassuringly but it wasn't helping. I glanced to the windows again and saw outside different events of my life being played out. No longer restricted to backyards. I sat down in one of the seats and looked out the window as I saw other meaningful events. My high school and college graduations. My first real kiss from my future boyfriend on his dorm room bed. Watching my best friend marry her wife in the backyard of their home. \n\n\"What is my final destination?\" I asked the Conductor.\n\n\"The afterworld. A world of never ending happiness, where you can see the sun, day or night,\" replied the Conductor. \n\n\"Oh.\" That was all I could reply with as the light outside the windows got brighter and brighter until the entire car was filled with blinding white light. Suddenly, I couldn't breathe but yet I could feel air being forced into my lungs. I felt tight compressions pushing down on my chest. I clenched my eyes shut. \n\nSuddenly, I felt it all stop as I took a huge breath on my own. My eyes shot up and I saw the clear night sky, with all the stars shining. Two Paramedics were next to me and I was lying on a stretcher. I looked around, feeling disoriented. That's when I saw it, the train I was on lying on it's side and completely off the tracks, illuminated by various headlights and flashing siren lights. \n\n\"You're going to be okay, buddy,\" said one of the paramedics. They began rolling the stretcher towards an ambulance. \"I can't believe we were able to get you back. You stopped breathing as soon as we got you off the train.\"\n\nI couldn't help but wonder what happened on the train really happened or was just a vivid dream, the last synaptic fires of a then dying brain. One thing I new for sure was that I wouldn't know for sure that night. Hopefully not for many, many, many nights. I didn't know what form death would take that time, but still had to wonder. \n\nI'd like to think it was real though, if only for my sanity. " ]	1
	[WP] You find a computer left behind in a long forgotten computer lab, labeled 'planet Earth live simulation -- DO NOT TURN OFF OR WORLD WILL CEASE TO EXIST' that has the following buttons: power, reset, and turbo.	[ "This has to be a joke... right? It has to be. I guess the only way to press a button and see what happens. Power, reset, turbo. I guess turbo is the safest one, right? Let me see what happens if I...\n\n\"Turbo Mode Activated\"\n\nThe day and night switch places in a matter of seconds. I can see this from my window. I think this room is safe from the effects of turbo, but the people on the street below are zooming by at practically light speed. I need to turn this off.\n\n\"Turbo Mode Deactivated\"\n\nThree months have gone by in the span of a few minutes. I'm the same, but the world has changed. I check the news to see what has happened in the turbo world. The US and North Korea are at war, racial tensions continue to escalate, women are still denied basic human rights, the President is accused of treason, and the climate continues to warm as natural disasters constantly plague our planet at an alarmingly increased pace. \n\nIt's a mad, mad, mad, mad world. \n\n\"Initiating Earth Simulation Reset\"", "I work as tech support for a company that no one has every heard of, so we get all the requests for menial jobs that no one wants to do. As the lowest man on the totem pole, I am given the worst of all the jobs.\n\nToday, I went and visited a computer lab that a school just discovered. Somehow, it got surrounded by walls on all four sides and forgotten about until they knocked down a wall, intending to merge two classrooms, exposing it.\n\nI was called in to look at the computers and see what was worth keeping. I didn't see anything of value, and I was about to tell the school to trash them all, when I saw that one of the computers was still on, somehow. I ran over and pushed the power button to-" ]	2
	[WP] Don't become like me, boy.	[ "Don't be like me boy\n\nA broken man\n\nWith muddy hands\n\nTilling the land till I can't stand\n\nDon't be like me, boy\n\nA poor old joe\n\nWho reaps and sows\n\nUntil the mold dies from the cold\n\nDon't be like me, boy\n\nA shattered heart\n\nWho's torn apart\n\nBy parting gifts and age old marks\n\nDon't be like me, boy\n\nA deadbeat dad\n\nWho's only lad\n\nHe didn't know was all he had" ]	1
	[WP] Poetry is classified as a deadly weapon.	[ "\"Hey diddle diddle...\"\n\nThe king sprang from his bed with a startled yelp, pushing the startled queen over the edge in a screaming cascade of puffy, satin pillows and thick blankets.\n\n\"Guards!\" the king shouted. \"Assassin!\" The bedroom doors burst open immediately. Two guards with shining poem books ran and stood bravely in front of the king.\n\n\"Ahem,\" said the one guard, opening the silvery cover of her book. She shuffled the papers forward for a moment, then backwards. \"Ah,\" She said, turning and smiling at everyone.\n\nThe guard began to read:\n\nThere is a place where the sidewalk ends\n\nAnd before the street begins,\n\nWith a loud crack, a hole burst open in the wall right next to the assassin's head. The assassin responded by leaping high into the air while reciting, \"Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,\"\n\nThe assassin landed in front of the guard and continued. \"And sorry I could not travel both,\n\n\"And be one traveler, long I stood,\"\n\nThe guard was glancing down at her next line, but waited politely for the assassin to finish.\n\n\"And looked down one as far as I could.\" \n\nThe guard took a step to the side as the impact of the poem whoosed past. The queen gave an excited, but muffled applause from somewhere within the pile of bedding. The assassin realized his mistake, too late: He had chose a strong poem, unlike the sleek shiny nursery rhyme he was going to use on the sleeping king, but this strong poem had the longer stanzas! It had two lines between rhymes. His mind raced as the guard read her next two lines.\n\nAnd there the grass grows soft and white,\n\nAnd there the sun burns crimson bright,\n\nThe assassin flew across the room clutching his stomach and slammed into the wall, right beside the hole from the first two lines of the guard's poem.\n\nThe assassin rolled to the side, deftly, making hardly any noise. The queen paused gathering up her sheets for the moment so that she could hear the faint sounds as the assassin cartwheeled and climbed the walls.\n\nThe assassin made a heroic jump from a spot almost to the top ten meter ceiling of the bedroom, catching themselves on the the chandelier in the middle of the room and swinging while singing, \"To where it bent in the undergrowth;\"\n\nThey swung some more, causing the various adornments of the chandelier to cling,clang and tinkle incessantly, the metal glass and jewels throwing a dazzling show of lights around the room.\n\n\"Then took the other, as just as fair,\" the assassin was having to raise thier voice considerably to compensate for the noisy chandelier.\n\n\"And having perhaps the better claim,\" their arms growing tired from the swinging back and forth.\n\n\"Because it was grassy and wanted wear;\" the assassin dropped, exhausted, to the ground in front of the guard. The assassin laid down on their back, panting to catch their breath.\n\nThe guard looked around her, confused. The poem had rhymed, and it was a classic, but there was no impact. \n\n\"The assasin probably put too much into the physical acting. Poetry is about the essence!\" the queen, now sitting on her bed in a cozy nest of blankets, had seen the guards confusion and decided to offer her opinion.\n\nThe assassin, still lying on his back, threw his hands at the ceiling in exasperation.\n\nThe guard turned and held her poem book high to complete her attack. And there the moon-bird rests from his flight.\n\nThe assassin's eyes went wide as he awaited the last rhyme.\n\nTo cool in the peppermint wind.\n\nThe assassin was hurled through the air, over the delightfully squealing queen's head, and came to a rest, motionless, by the king's feet. \n\n\"Bravo!\" the kind cried, clapping vigorously. The queen was clapping and bouncing on her bed. The guard closed her book and placed it back into her bejeweled poem book holster.\n\nAs the assassin was being drug out of the room the king asked the guard, \"How did you know what poem to use?\"\n\n\"Oh,\" she said, dropping the assassin to the floor with a thud. She stood so as to properly address the king. \"Assassins always go for 'The Road Not Taken' by Robert Frost, your highness. So betting on that, I figured I would use its natural counterpart, 'Where the Sidewalk Ends' by Shel Silverstein.\"\n\n\"You knew how to choose the perfect poet, and the assassin didn't even know it!\" said the king, accidentally sending the guard flying across the room.\n" ]	1
	[WP] "What happened? I was gone for only two seconds? Where is my prisoner?"	[ "The two black-hooded figures by the door exchanged glances—or at the very least turned their heads so their dark, metallic masks faced each other. “Excuse me?” one asked.\n\nThe hard curves of her own face-concealing cover pressed against Thele’s brow as she furrowed it. A stiffness rattled through her body as she swallowed a bitter taste that nearly choked her. “I said…”—the inquisitor paused for dramatic tension as much as to gather her breath—“WHERE! IS! MY! PRISONER!?”\n\nOne of the guards was about to reply, when the other nudged him and gestured over Thele’s shoulder towards her shadowed throne. As the Empyrion’s foremost jurist, arbiter and executioner, Thele was not going to fall for some simple distraction and kept her hidden eyes fixed on the duo before her.\n\n“Mistress Thele?” the interrupted figure managed to squeak.\n\nThe formidable woman never lost her patience for one reason, and one reason only; she had never had patience to begin with. “Within these walls I have no name,” Thele scolded. “I am Justice incarnate. I am the handmaiden of Death. I am…”\n\nA cold voice from one side completed the quote: “… the Beginning and the End of the Imperial Law.”\n\nThele swivelled towards the sound, her long robe gliding silently around her. Presiding from the throne—her throne—atop the seven steps of virtue, an exact replica of her costume looked down upon the scene.\n\n“Who…?!”\n\n“Within these walls I have no name,” the figure answered, standing. “I am the twenty-third to hold your post.”\n\n“You presume…” Thele paused, her words truncated like her thoughts. “Twenty-third?”\n\n“Your successor’s successor,” the dark figure confirmed as he began to descend the stairs towards the seat of judgement in the middle of the room where, mere minutes ago, a pathetic life had sat pleading to not suffer an appropriately pathetic death. “It is now the forty-seventh year of the reign of Aldones.”\n\nAll pretence of decorum lost, Thele stalked towards her replacement. “How is that possible?”\n\n“The vapours of erasure,” came the matter-of-fact response. The vapours—the most dismissive tool of execution available to Thele. It was reserved only for those criminals worth not even the expense of making an example from. A bitter grey fume that devoured all but the final days of the miscreants’ lives—just long enough to let the unfortunates realise what they had missed and which of their loved ones predeceased them while they arrange for their own funerals from what little goods they could still claim to their names. The very punishment Thele herself had been preparing to administer to the worthless creature she had just tried—her final judgement.\n\nThele glanced down at her hand, still gripped tightly around the brass-capped phial. As her fingers slowly peeled back, the ashen smoke that should have swirled within the cannister was conspicuously absent. All that could be seen was the thin white trail of a hairline fracture." ]	1
	[WP] Mirrors are actually doors to other identical universes where you and the version of you in that universe behave the same way. One day you look in the mirror and there's a bug, you and your version aren't synchronized.	[ "Hmm... I think this would look great on me today! \n\nI step into the skirt, and get dressed. The skirt is a dark purple, very vibrant. It is my favorite skirt, altough it is a little worn. I should get it replaced.\n\nI brush my teeth. For some reason, my bathroom doesn't have a mirror, so I have to improvise if I want to see how something looks on me. I usually just use my phone camera\n\nI turn the phone on. Call from Jeffery! 5 new messages. New matches on Tinder! I ignore it. I should really get my Tinder account deleted.\n\nI turn on my phone camera. The skirt looks even better on me today. I lost some weight.\n\nI leave my humble abode. I have a long day ahead of me, filled with treacherous business meetings and impassible presentations. I stroll to my car, and sit down. As I'm backing out of the driveway, I notice something. The mirror. It's... Wavy. Odd. Deformed... What's the word.. disfigured! Yes, that's the word. \n\nPart II coming soon...\n\n", "The incident from some days ago weren't particularly disturbing, but the sequence that followed threw me off completely. \nI had now gained a guest who claimed to know me and who growled in an annoyed tone how much he needed my help. \n \nThe quiet and somewhat pleasant monotony of my life was over, I figured. I cant' deny, though, that my current predicament was becoming similar to the sci-fi movies I would often go watch at the theaters and enjoy when I had the time. \n \nMy guest, however, would often remind me of the dire situation we really were. Something about multiple dimensions and a realm that kept them all together. A tree that branched of into many possibilities, some which bare fruit and bore other trees. Others that would simply dry out and die. Some few that would somehow crossover onto each other, building bridges or something new. Finally, the ones that could only spill rot. \n \nI don't remember the details exactly, but something like that resonated with me today as I washed my teeth, glancing casually onto the mirror. \nUsually, I don't pay too much attention to it nor do I even take a glance. But today, I could have sworn somebody else was looking at me from there. \nI frowned, stopping my brushing movements as I took a better glance at the image that was supposed to be of myself. \nIt stared right back at me - same frown and utencil on his mouth - but for some reason, his gaze was far more stern than mine. \nFor a moment, I thought as I cocked my head to a side and watching my reflection do the same - I could have sworn that his eyes had gotten some sort of golden shine to them. \n \nI shook my head. \nI should probably stop the all-nighters once in a while. \n \nAs I finished cleaning my teeth for the morning, I exited the bathroom and found my guest sat on the couch next to it, arms crossed. \nHe shot a small glare at me before returning his sight at the TV in front of him. \n \n\"You sure take your time in there.\" \n \nI just shrugged. \n\nBefore I closed the door of the bathroom, I took a quick glance at the reflection on the mirror. \nAs impossible as it should have been, given it's position on the wall perpendicular to the door, I could see myself glaring. \nGlaring at me. \n \nI blinked. \n \n\"You coming out already, or what?\" Grunted my strange guest, distracting me long enough for that image to flee. Somehow, I knew it wasn't the last time I'd see it again. \n\"Yes, sorry.\" I said closing the door behind me, just to be sure. \"So, what is exactly that you eat?\" \n \n--- \n \nWelcome, WP, to the Chronicles. . . \n[[Coded Dreams](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/75k2ho/wp_you_have_brainwashed_yourself_now_youre/do6wj6w/)] [[Incoming Message](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/57yq6g/wp_you_are_a_computer_programmer_who_has_stumbled/d8weqbj/)] [[The Mysterious Guest](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/72r43z/wp_youre_walking_down_a_busy_street_during_the/dnlmxam/)] [Mirror Mirror] \n" ]	2
	[WP] You are a dog. You have a charm on you which prevents you from dying until your human dies. You have lived a long healthy life with your human, but now your human is on their death bed.	[ "This charm has been passed down from generation to generation. Each dog who obtains it is bonded to the human who takes them in. If they are to perish. We are too. And when our human is about to perish, we feel it.\n\nMy human's name is Leila. She's is a very hard worker. She's dedicated her life to helping others. She's done this for all 27 years of her life. I'm glad to have been bonded with her. Her other companion, Josh, is also a very hard worker. But I am not bonded to Josh, so I care not for him. \n\nAnd then, I felt it. Today was the day that Leila dies.\n\nBut so soon? Why? She's been a great person? She's devoted her life to helping everyone! That's why she became a nurse for the army!\n\nI must find out how she dies.\n\nI must, before it's too-", "\nMy grandfather always had a lab by his side. Even as a kid, in fact the earliest photo we had in our extended family, was a water stained sepia toned 4 by 6 with a torn edge and a crease down it's center, showing a laughing, tousle headed, gap toothed kid - obviously delighted, getting his face vigorously licked by a shaggy Labrador puppy with a furiously wagging tail. My grandfather carried it in his wallet and claimed it was his good luck charm. \"Their used to be two copies of this photo\" he once told me, when I was around 6 or 7, as he scratched behind the ears of the lab next to him. \"The puppy in the photo ate the other one!\" He laughed at that for some reason, and the lab snoozing by his side. Dusty? Had sleepily wagged his tail once, back and forth.\n\nA lot had changed since that photo was taken and a lot had stayed the same. He seemed as small as a kid again, shriveled up under the thin blanket, gasping for air. The hair he had left in the back was tousled, and the gap was still there between his front teeth, and just like then, he still had a lab by his side, though this one was far from being a puppy. \n\nThis was, Dustin, I think? My grandfather had given them all similar names, and once, when I was 16 and having my first beer with him in the garage one Thanksgiving, he had whispered loudly, \"don't let him hear me telling you this but they are all the same dog!\" I had laughed at the idea, it was absurd, but weirdly plausible, they all looked the same. But mostly I was delighted by his conspiratorial whisper, by the way his whiskers tickled my ear, by the beer, and by the way Dusty (was it still Dusty, or was it the one after that?) had come bounding in at the word \"dog\" and had jumped up and knocked the beer out of my hand, trying to vigorously lick both of our faces as his tail wagged furiously. \n\nIt was a cherished memory. All of my memories of my grandfather were. I loved him and his dogs - even this one, Dustin I think his name was, a blind, fat, diabetic lab with a white muzzle, runny eyes and patches of hair missing. He was arthritic, slow, irritable, lame in one leg and practically at death's door himself and he'd be the last lab my grandfather would ever own.\n\nMy grandfather passed away that night, surrounded by family, with one shrunken hand on Dustin's white and patchy muzzle. Dustin closed his eyes for the last time just a moment later, making an almost human sounding sigh, as his tail swept back and forth a single time before laying still for good. \n\nThe rest of the family, those left behind, comforted each other the best we could, crying a bit, holding each other, murmuring comforting phrases, and then we heard it, we all did, from outside the open window, blown in by a stray breeze, the fading sound of playful barking and the laughter of a delighted child.\n" ]	2
	[WP] You wake up in an unfamiliar white room. A older man dressed in white robes congratulates you and welcomes you to heaven. You're not convinced he's telling the truth.	[ "I was in a small, metal chair as he he approached. I could hear the sound of footsteps against a polished tile floor as he approached. A man dressed in a blinding white cloak, with skin wrinkled like a raisin. His oily grey hair hung from his scalp, haphazardly flung behind his shoulders. \"Welcome to Heaven.\" He declared with no small amount of disdain. His face melted into a scowl as he spoke, with no small amount of hatred hardly masked by those words. \"Congratulations on making it up here.\" Venom and vile emotion spewed forth from his words as he spoke. \n\n\"I assume I died, then?\" I looked at the man quizzically. I remembered everything up until waking up here, so the usual signs of death were absent. \"You wouldn't be here if you didn't!\" He barked. I raised an eyebrow. \"And you are..?\" \"God. Where you expecting someone else? Would you rather I grow out my beard? Wear a different robe?\" He tugged at his attire as I glanced about the boundless white expanse. \"Where is everyone?\" I interrupted quizzically. \"Well, I'm certainly not going to keep all of humanity in the same room.\" He muttered, pulling a pen and paper out of thin air. \"I need you to sign these. Nondisclosure waivers and such. Verifies I've told you where you are.\" I looked down at the paper to find that everything did seem to be in order. I looked up at the man. \"You look at me with an expression like that, shove a contract in my face, and you honestly expect me to believe you're not Satan?\" His eyes narrowed and I swore I saw a spark of flame in his eyes. \"This is above your petty religious struggles, human!\" He bellowed. Surprised, I scanned the void before me. Looking the man in the eyes I said \"Heaven is religious.\" He went silent. \"And If this isn't Heaven, then where am I?\"", "Darkness... Nothing but darkness... Steven had been sitting in this murky, empty room for what he had deemed to be an eternity. Although it wasn't visible, he was clearly chained to something heavy. Both the collar around his neck as the handcuffs restricted his movement in such a way that sitting down in the most uncomfortable position was the only option available to him. His body twisting in pain, this once lively father and husband had been degraded to a pathetic heap of a human being.\n\n\"No, please! Leave my daughter alone!\"\n\"Daddy!\"\nSteven shook his head ferociously.\n\"Not now, please not now...\" His words, besides his scarred body, filled the empty room. As they echoed through the room Steven shook his head once more.\n\"This is not the time... Please...\"\nSteven knew that even though he could not escape, thinking about 'that' was not going to solve anything. If he'd let those thoughts get the better of him he would surely go insane.\n\n\"No, please! Leave my daughter alone!\"\n\"Daddy!\"\nThe words began to repeat themselves. It felt as if they were coming from somewhere else inside the darkness. Steven shook his head, but this time it failed to show any effect.\n\"No, please! Leave my daughter alone!\"\n\"Daddy!\"\nSteven yelled into the vast nothingness:\n\"I want to get out of here! Please, LET ME OUT OF HERE!\"\nFor some reason he had hoped this time someone would call out to him...\n\"Please, just let me know if they are alright... I beg you...\".\n\nThen, as his words echoed away into what Steven had believed to be nothingness, a very faint choir of men was to be heard. Steven knew very little about this language, but it seemed recognizable enough to hear that these men were singing in Latin. This was a a gregorian chant.\n\nAs the music became louder, Steven had expected to be happy to finally hear something other than his voice. Hearing these men, however, made him tremble in fear.\nThe slight breeze he had felt just moments before was now blowing faster and faster. The music became louder as well.\n\n\"Please, anyone! Let me go! I beg you!\"\nThis was his last attempt. If these men were not going to help him it would be the end of it all.\n\nBut as soon as he uttered these words everything fell silent once more...\n\n\"My son...\"\n\nA warming voice filled the room.\n\n\"Open your eyes.\"\n\nSteven didn't understand. His eyes were wide opened.\n\nThe room slowly starts to fill with light. Steven couldn't believe his eyes.\n\n\"My son, you have arrived.\"\n\nBefore him stood an old man dressed in white robes. Steven, who had just spend an eternity in chains was now set free. Both his handcuffs as his metal collar were gone.\n\n\"I-I have arrived?\" Steven's voice that had sounded weak a minute ago was now full of energy once more.\n\nThe old man smiled. \"Of course you have, my son. Don't you see? Everyone of God's creatures goes to heaven.\"\n\nHeaven... This word hit him like a truck.\n\n\"I'm in heaven? H-How is that possible? What about...\"\n\n\"You are forgiven, my son.\" The old man smiled once more.\n\nSteven was dumbfounded. How could this be? What about his daughter? His wife?\n\n\"I want to go back. I need to know what happened to my wife and daughter!\"\n\n\"Your wife and daughter?\" They are in heaven as well! Would you like to see them?\"\n\nSteven's eyes lit up.\n\n\"Really?! Thank you sir, thank you a thousand times!\"\n\nA beautiful white door decorated with gold appeared beside the old man out of thin air.\n\n\"This is the gate to heaven, my son. Your wife and daughter will be waiting on the other side.\"\n\nWith tears in his eyes Steven opened the door and ran inside. Another bright light appeared in the other room, this time, however, underneath him. The ground started to crumble and Steven lost his balance. He fell into the light. In fear Steven looked up to the old man that was standing in the doorway. A grin appeared on the face of the old man.\n\n\"Of course, my son, heaven is only for God's creatures that have behaved well.\"\n\nSteven's eyes widened.\n\nAs the old man appearance started to change into something evil and dark, he uttered:\n\n\"Killing your wife and daughter in cold blood is not behaving well, my son. You have spent your time in purgatory... But even that couldn't save your soul. May you forever burn in hell.\"\n\nAs Steven fell further and further down he heard the voices of his wife and daughter once more:\n\n\"No, please! Leave my daughter alone!\"\n\"Daddy!\"" ]	2
Happy Halloween!	[WP] You awaken with no memory of how you got where you are. You passed out the previous night and are waking up in a gothic castle with bodies surrounding you.	[ "Kevin was dreaming of popsicles, big dripping fruit bars, when the lightning struck. His thin, sweaty sleep wasn't enough to protect him from the stabbing pain that entered somewhere near the top of his skull and lanced through his brain before bouncing in a hundred different directions. \n\nHe groaned, suddenly awake and sick to his stomach. Those juicy popsicles that had quenched his thirst so well in sleep were literally a distant dream and he curled up on The cold, stone floor, shivering in his sweat. Christ almighty, that sixth Long Island was a bad idea. Was it only six? His head told him it might've been eight, or nine. To be honest, he couldn't quite remember. He certainly didnt know who's floor he had passed out on, but they must have money to have a real stone floor. Maybe they'd pay for his cab ride home. \n\nHe kept his eyes closed and cut off the racing thoughts, willing his mind to descend into the depths of sleep again. Cab rides could wait, and so could whoever was in this house with him. Unless they had painkillers, he needed sleep to relieve him of the pain. He had just started to drift off, gratefully, when something crashed somewhere above him and his eyes snapped open. \n\nA moment of shocked silence. Big, pale blue eyes stared back at him from six inches away, unseeing, unfocused. His breath caught in his throat as a scream ripped out of his chest, turning the shriek into a very loud, painful coughing fit. Ignoring the ominous lurching in his stomach, he pushed himself up and scrabbled backwards with numb hands. He might've kept moving back until he smashed into the wall except he ran into something; his hand fell onto what felt a little too much like ice-cold flesh. He whipped his head around to see a handsome young man in stylized gothic clothing lying on his back, staring towards the ceiling with the same blue eyes as the girl. \n\nKevin shot to his feet, too surprised to make more noise. His breath rasped through what felt like a rolled up piece of ancient parchment. A popsicle, that's all he needed and wanted, not these dead bodies, he never wanted dead bodies, what the hell was going-\n\n\"Ah.\" The small noise escaped from trembling lips. He was surrounded by the fucking things. A dozen young people, all of them gorgeous and dressed in rich clothing that would be at home at a Renaissance Fair, were splayed out about him in various poses, and all of them had their eyes wide open. A dozen pairs of ice blue eyes seemed to stare at him. \n\nAdrenaline had kept the hangover at bay so far, but it wouldn't - no, couldn't- be beaten that easily. It landed like an angry block of steel, directly between his own brown eyes, splitting his head in two. He groaned, the agony so bad that it even managed to drive the corpses from his thoughts. He bent over and put his hands on his knees as his vision began to fade and his stomach tried to give back whatever he'd forced in it the night before. He stood that way for a while, eyes closed, the pain washing through him. He groaned again. \n\nWhen he finally managed to pry his dry, sticky eyes open, the girl he'd been lying with was sitting up, yawning. Kevin yelped, his heart stuttering painfully. \n\n\"Hey, hey,\" the girl said, raising a hand to her head and grimacing. \"Keep it down, Kevin. I'm feeling rough.\" She spoke in a clipped British accent, and even though he felt like death Kevin couldn't help but notice the slim curves underneath her frilly dress. He suddenly became aware of how he must look: like utter shit. \n\n\"What, um,\" he stopped, trying to unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth. He needed something to drink, bad. Or a popsicle, but he wouldn't hold his breath. \"What's going on here? Who are you?\" He stopped, feeling rude. \"Please?\"\n\nShe stared at him adn then cracked a wry smile. Another crash came from upstairs, causing Kevin to flinch, but the girl didn't even blink. The silence dragged out. \n\n\"Please?\" She said, her smile widening. \n\n\"Yes, umm,\" Kevin said shakily. He ran a hand through his hair. \"Please tell me who you are?\"\n\nThe girls' eyes, already beautiful, lit up. \"Oh!\" She stood, smoothing out her dress with elegant hands. \"I'm so sorry, I completely forgot my manners. My name is Ophelia.\" She made a little curtsy, which Kevin returned with an awkward half-bow. They both looked around at the other bodies. Ophelia frowned. \"I'm the first one up?\"\n\nKevin stared at her, unaware his mouth was hangin open. A twinge of pain made him twitch, and he cleared his throat loudly. \"The first one up? That guy is ice cold.\" He nodded at the young man he'd almost crawled over. \"I think he's, like, dead? Should we call 911 or something?\"\n\nThe girl laughed, a light, airy sound. \"Branson? He'll be fine. He's always had a taste for the heroin. He manages to overdose regardless of how shite the gear is.\" She walked over and kicked at Branson with a soft leather boot. Branson groaned, and blinked his eyes, coming to life. \n\n\"I completely forgot that you're new,\" the girl said, ignoring the miracle occurring at her feet \"And I imagine you probably don't remember much of last night, do you?\"\n\nKevin, with some effort, pulled his eyes away from the man who had just pulled a Lazarus and looked around at the dark stone walls. Cold sunlight poured through tall open windows cut into the rock, shining into Kevins' eyes and frying his brain. He blinked heavily. \"Are we in a castle? What the fuck is going on?\" He felt panic rising in his chest, replacing the anxiety and ache of the hangover. Suddenyl, an enormous belch popped out of him without warning, tasting like Sailor Jerries and nearly causing him to vomit. \n\nOphelia stifled a laugh with a delicate, white hand. Branson sat up, groaning and moaning and rubbing at his eyes. \"Bloody hell,\" he said. \"Christ in heaven, I'm rattling.\"\n\nOphelia ignored him, now smiling reassuringly at Kevin. \"We met last night, at The Hot Swatch down Wellington Avenue. You know, West London?\" Kevin nodded, wondering how the hell he started drinking in Pittsburgh and ended up in England. A question for a later time. Ophelia took his nod for understanding and continued. \"You were already quite drunk.\" She giggled. \"You claimed you were a vampire. Something about Halloween?\"\n\nYes, of course. Yesterday was Halloween. Kevin had always enjoyed Halloween. His dad said he enjoyed it a little too much, but his dad also thought that one DUI was the end of the world. \n\nOphelia seemed to be waiting for a response. He tried to collect his thoughts but all he could manage was another nod. \n\n\"Anyways,\" Ophelia said, talking over Branson's muttered curses. \"We are vampires, which you found very intriguing. You kept on about sunlight and drinking blood and all manner of nonsense.\" She raised an arm and waved it through a beam of light. \"As you can see, none of that rubbish is true.\"\n\n\"You're a vampire?\" Kevin said dumbly, instantly regretting asking such a stupid question. The girl must be putting him on. Vampires weren't real.\n\nOphelia nodded. \"Yes, we all are, although don't expect us to glitter in the sunlight.\" She snorted. \"Coffins, blood, and crosses. Garlic!\" She shook her head, laughing. \"Absolute rubbish.\" She pointed to Branson. \"This is all you need to know about vampires right here. Branson shot enough dope to kill an elephant, overdosed, died, and yet here he is, crying like a baby but still quite alive.\"\n\nKevin glanced at Branson, who was poking at an arm coated in track marks. \"So...not the evil undead?\"\n\n\"No, of course not. That's ridiculous.\" She flicked her hair over her shoulder in a move that Kevin found quite sexy. Something stirred below his waist despite the crazy shit this girl was talking. \"We simply can't be killed by partying. Sure, a stake to the heart will kill us, just like it would anybody, but alcohol, heroin, cocaine...\" her voice trailed off and Kevin could hear the longing In the silence that followed. \n\n\"Cocaine, if we could find some that wasn't utter shite, wouldn't kill us either. You must've drank three or four liters of rum last night, but by that point Elise had already given you the Kiss. So,\" she spread her arms, \"here you you are. Alive, even if you feel like death. The coffins and wine, the sunlight, the garlic.\" Ophelia waggled a finger at him. \"We just like to sleep, the sun hurts our eyes after a night out, and garlic does a great job of masking the smell of booze. And drinking blood all day is a lot more respectable than drinking gallons of wine. That's all. Now let's get these assholes up and see who's crashing about upstairs. I hope they've got some breakfast.\"" ]	1
	[WP] You live in a haunted house with a poltergeist that loves to mess with you via playing with the utilities (flickering lights, gas turning on, TV turning itself on, etc...),you have made peace with it but as a result the utilities are getting too expensive & you need to sort this out.	[ "Fwoosh The gas stove flickered to life as the lights went on in the kitchen. Carl threw down the book he was reading, stomped across the living room, and turned off the stove.\n\n\"Excuse me! What kind of rent are you paying that lets you drive up the gas bill in MY house?\" he elbowed the fridge door closed as it cracked open. His face flushed an angry red as he spotted the blender whir on and start floating off the counter.\n\n\"You get back here, you son of a bitch!\" Carl bumped into the dishwasher as he ran, knocking silverware all over the floor. He stepped on a fork. \"God dammit!\" \n\nHe tore the blender out from the wall socket, hopping on one leg, and turned to survey the mess. The cord wrapped around his leg and caught on the chair, sending him crashing face-first towards the knife rack. \"Oh fuck me.\" \n________________________________________\n\n\"This house belonged to a man who died in an unfortunate accident. It's had some wiring issues, but they've mostly sorted themselves out over the last few years. Nobody knows why. It creeps me out, to be honest, but the place is pretty cheap.\" The real estate agent unlocked the door and gestured for Jill to step inside. \n\nThe lights in the living room immediately turned on. Water poured from the faucet, and the refrigerator door swung open. And then, one by one, all of these things returned to normal. \n\n\"It's a big house. I'm sure you'll like it. Let's check out the bedrooms,\" the realtor led Jill to the stairs. \"Huh. The light switch appears to be stuck again. It gets like this every once in a while, usually for no more than a few minutes. There we go. Ah, now it's stuck in the on position.\" \n\nAs they made their way upstairs, a toy car with flashing lights rolled its way up to greet them. Its cartoon-headed driver slowly turned around, looked straight at Jill, and blinked. Then, the car rose into the air, about arm level, and flew back and forth, as if torn between two angry toddlers, before suddenly shooting out the open window. Jill felt a hand pat her on the shoulder. \n\n\"You know what? I think I'll take it.\" \n\n_____________________________________________\n\n[join the community](https://www.reddit.com/r/Tensingstories/)", "I yelled into the house, \"Chloe! I think you should see this!\" \n\nThere was no reply. \n\nStrange. Not a faucet turning on or a spark of the stove. The stove was one of her classics. Leave the stove on for a bit before I walk in and bam! fireball in the kitchen. That's the day I learned never to keep oil by the range and the day she learned a house on fire could become no house at all. It was getting a little out of hand lately and time to sit down and have a talk. Still, it was strange, she always waited for me. Maybe she knew 'the talk was coming. \n\nToday I was gardening, not very far from the house when something peculiar happened. My shovel met something hard. Digging around it, I found a bone. Not just any bone though, it was human. At least to the best of my knowledge. A few more clumps of dirt and I found more. By the time I was finished, there was a full skeleton. I grabbed a sack and threw the bones in. Chloe loved stuff like that. \n\nI place the sack on the table and wait a few minutes longer, calling her again: \n\n\"Chloe! Common, I found a human skeleton, you gotta check this out!\" \n\nNothing.\n\n\"Fine. Well, I'm headed to the police station so you might see some cops in here later.\"\n\nShe could be a bit aggressive when people come over. Especially with women. She did not like women. \n\nIt was my second date with this girl, Naomi and she lived just down the street. After watching Rogue One, she asked if she could come over for a bit; her roommate was driving her insane. I know it wouldn't be the best thing to do, but hell, I was really liking her. And if I liked her that much, I shouldn't have let her in. \n\nShe's walks in an immediately asks to go to the washroom. A few minutes later and all I hear are gut-wrenching screams of terror. Apparently, the lights had turned off to all but a faint red glow. Each faucet gushed with a fury of a tsunami and flooded floor up to her ankles. When she was on the toilet, the water shot up from the bowl and drenched her. By the time she got out, she was too shocked to speak. Even when I pass by her on the street, she doesn't say a word. \n\nThe last thing I needed was a policewoman to walk in and have Chloe go bananas. I think that would make me a prime suspect in no time. I mean, a house of horrors with a human skeleton doesn't exactly spell innocent. \n\nWhen I get to the station, my nerves start to shake me. What was I going to say if they asked about the remains. I literally just found them and that's it. That's what I'll tell them and that's it. \n\n\"These bones aren't mine\"\n\n\"Excuse me?\" says the officer behind the front. By the way his eyes bug, I think my introduction caught him by surprise. \n\n\"Ugh... you see, um...\" \n\nHis expression change like a keliodoscope of confusion and impatience. \n\n\"This!\" I say and throw the sack on the counter, \"not mine!\"\n\nThe officer peaks in and his eyebrows fly to the roof. \n\n\"Sir, please step slowly to the side of the counter and turn around,\" he says. I hesitate. \n\n\"But I--\"\n\n\"Sir, you're going to need to co-opersye.\" \n\nI say no more and before I can even explain the situation, I'm in handcuffs in an empty room. Luckily, it isn't long before someone enters. They aren't in uniform and quickly unlock the cuffs. \n\n\"So, I hear you came across some bones,\" he says after taking a seat across from me. \n\n\"Umm, yes. They were in garden. I wanted to tell--\" \n\n\"To tell the officer you found bones in your backyard, but he wouldn't listen,\" the man finished my sentence for me. \"You know, that's not a common thing around here. Maybe in Stevensville.\"\n\nStevensville, our town's rival. We have s habit of calling each other's towns crime infested hellholes. I laugh. \n\n\"Yeah, thank God we live in Emerald Lake.\"\n\nThe tension melts into a sticky sludge. I know I'm not 'free-to-go,\" but I'm less on the side of 'guilty' than I was 10 minutes ago. I begun explaining what happened. \n\n\"Hmm, an anticlimactic story. Alright, I'm going to send away the bones to get examined. When you leave this office you're going to go directly to the front desk and ask them for an H Form. Fill it out completely and accurately and you're free to go. I'll be at your home to investigate within the hour after you leave. You got that?\"\n\n\"Front desk, H Form, be home within an hour,\" I say, my nerves crawling back in. \n\n\"Home right away. I will be there within an hour.\" \n\n\"Right, yes.\" \n\n\"Okay, you may go.\" \n\nAnd I'm out. I almost miss the front desk, gasping for that first breath of freedom. If that's how a innocent man feeling in questioning, I can't imagine what a guilty man feels like. Once I complete the paperwork, I make my way home. \n\nI'm almost home when my radio goes wonky. The indie station comes on playing \"I Will Follow You Into the Dark\" by Death Cab and slips to some smooth jazz and back to alt rock station. I switch it back to the indie station. \n\n\"Chloe?\" I whisper. Again, no reply.\n\nWhen I get home, to my surprise, there are no police cars, no nothing. I half--more than half, expected a troop of police cars and sirens and even fire trucks sitting there for me. Even an ambulance, for whatever reason. There was nothing though and as I step towards the house, a brilliant flash of light takes me. \n\nIt feels like my lungs are cement, and then, relief. I breathe. There I am, among a pit on broken bricks, scorched grass and what was left of my house ablaze. In front, a young girl with long brown hair was standing. She was dressed in 90's wear and by the looks of it, had not aged a day since. \n\n\"Patrick,\" she says. That's my name... \n\n\"Chloe?\" \n\nShe smiles. \n\n\"Thanks for freeing me. They let me stay here and guide you because of it.\"\n\n\"Who? The police?\"\n\nShe laughs. \"Do you remember who I am?\"\n\n\"Chloe.\"\n\n\"Who is?\"\n\n\"Dead...\" \n\nMy world collapses. I think back and replay the memories of my past. I knew them all. I know these hands. These are my hands. They'll real. I'm real. Can you be real and dead..? \n\n\"It's a lot, I know,\" she says. \"Why don't you have a seat.\" \n\nAround me razors of broken shrapnel. I tell her and she assures me it's safe. \n\n\"You know those bones you found?\" she begins. \n\n\"I knew you were there!!! Why didn't you say anything?!\" \n\n\"Because I wasn't,\" she says, \"I was already gone.\"\n\n\"Wait, what?\"\n\n\"Patrick, you found my bones in the garden. The missing piece to my murder.\"\n\nI don't know what to say and stay silent. \n\n\"My mother had all the motives, all the reasons and none of the evidence to go behind bars,\" she says. \"The police looked everywhere for my bones and never found them. The moment you did, it set in motion my freedom. No longer was I trapped in limbo. It was bad timing though...\"\n\n\"Is was?\"\n\n\"I could tell you were getting tired... and sweaty. You were going to come in any minute, I just knew it. So I had the gas on. They ripped me from here before I even knew...\"\n\n\"Ugh huh. So what?\"\n\nShe huffs. \"Don't you get it? The fire, the dead you...\" She stares at me with big green eyes. I got it. \n\n\"Because of you...\" I utter. \n\n\"I'm sorry...\"\n\nWe stay in silence as the first police cruise pulls up. Then the fire trucks come and finally an ambulance. \n\n\"This all seems familiar...\" I say. \n\n\"I tried to warn you...\"\n\n\"With Death Cab? You know I hate that song.\"\n\n\"You just hate it because your highschool sweetheart loved it.\"\n\n\"No!\" I say though I know it's true. \n\n\"Yea! You never switch it when it's on and you always get contemplative. That's why I thought you would realize what was going to happen.\"\n\n\"Well, it didn't work and now I'm dead!\" \n\n\"At least you're not alone...\" Chloe sits and looks away from me. \"You get to pass. You don't have to wonder why you're stuck. Why all you can do is drive people away.\" \n\nIt would have been hard... It was already hard having her here explaining it all. I apologize.\n\n\"It's okay. It's not like you killed me.\" \n\nI hesitate to laugh, but it breaks the tension. \n\n\"Now what?\" I ask. \n\n\"Sing your song and follow me. Just leave out the love part, cause you're like 30 and that's gross.\" \n\nNow that I can laugh at. \n\n\"They're waiting for you,\" is all she says and the world turns white. \n\n---\n\nWrote at work so it might be rushed at some points and on my phone so I apologize for any typos!", "The television flickered, and the screen froze. I found myself staring at Hafþór Júlíus Björnsson putting his fingers in Pedro Pascal’s eye sockets. \n\nI sighed. She was at it again.\n\nI grabbed a handful of strawberry candy, flung it at the television screen, and closed my eyes. I heard a faint giggle, but I never heard the sweets hit anything. After a while, I heard the crinkling of plastic wrappers, and soon the Viper’s screams filled the living room again. \n\nShe just had to stop the episode at the bloodiest part - and make me miss it. Screw you, kid ghost, for always messing with me.\n\nIt was quite annoying, but she wasn’t this mild when we first met. I still remembered how she went on the offensive on the day that I moved in. I didn’t have much possessions, but that kid ghost had enough imagination to make everything a weapon. \n\nSomehow, every time I turned around, some furniture seemed to have moved a few centimetres. I hit my little toes of both feet so many times, I thought the nails would have become ingrown at the end of the day. Then, crockery that I placed in the centre of tables would appear dangerously close to the edge. Next, bags would empty their contents on the floor when I wasn’t looking. With so many things falling on the floor and so many threats against my feet, I should have foreseen her final move when my steel Batman paperweight about the size of my fist slid across the table and dropped down….on my big toe. There was a lot of screaming, a lot of time and money spent to get myself to the hospital….and also a lot of faint giggling in the living room while I was enveloped in excruciating pain. \n\nBut hey, the house was cheap though. \n\nThat was just the beginning. There was once when I returned home drunk with a female friend. Being intoxicated, my mind was filled with thoughts about my companion, so I had forgotten about the ghost and her antics. I also forgot that earlier in the day, I had bought two cartons of raw meat, for a barbecue with my friends the following day.\n\nWe were chatting on the couch, inching closer to each other. Things were going well, and I thought I was getting lucky when she leaned in for a kiss. Just before I closed my eyes and sank into the moment, I caught a fleeting glance of a large red patch above both of us. It was like that movie \"Carrie\", only thing was that it wasn't just pig blood, it was really expensive, high-end meat that cost around....I don't really remember the size of the hole that it burnt in my pocket, I just remembered how heartbroken I was.\n\nNeedless to say, she left my apartment with my meat on her face. And she left my apartment and my plans for the barbecue in a huge, bloody mess.\n\nThe turning point came when I came home after a tiring day of overtime. I was simply too exhausted to do anything else but sleep, and the first thing I did upon entering my house was to head right to my bedroom and collapse on the bed. \n\nShe had hidden small little thumbtacks in the sheets. \n\nI jumped up, screaming and cursing, and threw my bag across the room. It hit the opposite wall and burst open to spill my supply of strawberry candy all over the floor. \n\nI had been crying and begging on the floor, wondering why the world has forsaken me, but I quietened down when I realised that her normally faint giggling had stopped and the pain had subsided. No, not subsided, but completely disappeared. In fact, the thumbtacks had been removed from my face and hands, and the wounds had closen up. And my sweets had vanished, leaving behind only plastic wrappers strewn all over the floor.\n\nFrom then on, sweets became my way of making a deal with her. I began to invest in sweets, most notably strawberry candies, not only as a way of relieving my own stress, but to pay her whenever I noticed she wanted to harm me. Pretty soon, she got less violent, till she only annoyed me just enough to get her daily fix of sweets. Maybe turning on the television when I was asleep, turning on the gas when I just turned it off, flickering lights when I was trying to sleep, stuff like that. \n\nI always had the impression that poltergeists were either pure evil or just some bored spirits that ruined people's lives just for the heck of it. I didn't know that they could be bought over too.\n\nBut with the costs of utilities rising....her behaviour wasn't that harmless anymore. With the current stagnating economy, I had been living from paycheck to paycheck for quite a while now, and while the rent was still manageable, the increasing utilities bill was taking quite a toll on my finances.\n\nI heard a faint whir to my side. Aaaand my desktop was booting up again. \n\n\"Look, kiddo, you've got to stop doing that, alright?\" I couldn't take it anymore.\n\nThe whirring of the CPU fan stopped, but the monitor still showed my homescreen. The LED at the side started flashing rapidly. When it was functioning normally, it would have shown either green or orange, but right now it was flashing red. BLOOD RED.\n\nShe was angry.\n\nBut I was angry, too.\n\nThe show had ended, but the television screen started flashing, almost as rapidly as the LED light of my computer. I kept my stern expression on. I wasn't about to give way this time. \n\n\"You've got to stop doing all these ANNOYING SHIT!!\"\n\nThe screen cut to static, then the speakers gave out a sharp shriek that forced me to lose composure for a while and cover my ears. Oberyn Martell's crushed skull started flashing on the screen. It was in high contrast, such that the blood appeared thick, black and sinister. And she kept distorting the eyes. Or rather, where the eyes used to be.\n\nI smiled. She was getting nowhere with this.\n\nBut I was a little scared too. She was holding back; but what's to stop her from wreaking total havoc? \n\nI needed to calm down. To approach it as a rational adult, explaining to a young child. \n\nYup. I needed to use soft power.\n\n\"Look, my bills are rising because of you. I have less to spend now. You wouldn't want me to starve and die, would you?\"\n\nHarsh laughter filled the apartment. My phone unlocked itself, and opened Whatsapp. She started typing cheeky and tearful emojis. Then a middle finger.\n\n\"Look, if I die or get evicted, you'll have no more strawberry sweets!!\"\n\nIn a flash, all paranormal activity stopped. The monitor died, the television shut down and fell silent, and my phone deleted the draft text and went back to the homescreen. I picked my phone up and examined it; shit, she ended all the recent apps too. What a good girl.\n\nI grabbed another handful of sweets, and flung it into the air. As expected, they never hit the ground.\n\nThis has been the best trade deal in the history of trade deals, maybe ever. Strawberry candies FTW. I love ya, you silly little poltergeist.\n\nNow I wonder if I can pay her to redirect some of my neighbours' utilities to me....\n\nMore at r/N_attempts_to_write :-)" ]	3
	[WP] You are a soldier drafted into the army. World war 3 has started but it is not at all what you expected it to be like.	[ "As I lay there on my bunk staring at the ceiling, my hand behind my head, I began to feel a sense of anxiety come over me. It had only been a couple of weeks since I got the call. We had to leave immediately, as the fate of the nation was depending on us. There we all were, sitting in the back of that truck. Young men and women, so eerily quiet. We had all heard the news, minutes after it happened, we all received the notifications. There was no mistaking it: The new axis powers had just declared war. Within 24 hours, the alliance declared a state of emergency, and had to mobilize.\n\nAs the truck came to its destination, the doors opened, and we all hopped out, one by one. The barracks did not look like what I had pictured it to be like. It was bizarrely clean. Like something out of a science fiction movie. As we walked into the giant monochrome white building, I looked around and saw no actual physical training. Just people having chips embedded into their arms, having updates uploaded into them via injection, people drinking mandatory protein supplements, it was nothing that I hadn't seen before, but it just didn't seem like the training that would be given during a world war. Then again, the previous ones were a couple hundred years ago.\n\nI went through the basic training, which took a matter of days. It involved getting all of the data implemented in me, going out for a couple test runs, and having them tune my mind for maximum efficiency. After that came the more advanced scenarios, which involved testing my reflexes and combat scenarios under life-threatening scenarios. The most memorable one was when they put me in a large room, equipped with nothing but an assault rifle, with a bunch of platforms of various heights all around me. At the stroke of a switch, all of a sudden the room darkened and from out of nowhere, these crazy cyborg-spider looking things started popping out of nowhere and coming right at me. Practically without even thinking about it, I pulled out my rifle and started knocking them all down one by one. As one came up behind me, I turned around, flipped the shotgun switch and blew that thing away. More kept coming and coming until I ran out of ammo. Then suddenly the lights came on, and the entire room was empty again. Whether that was real or virtual reality, I have no idea. But the skills I had harnessed definitely were, no question.\n\nThe whole thing had progressed so quickly. Now here I was, the night before I was supposed to be deployed with my group. We had all gotten to know each other pretty well. Just that evening we had went out on for a night on the nearby town. Like a typical Friday night, it ended in a drunken brawl when one of the guys in my group apparently accused another dude and his friends of hacking his programming, or something, and before you know it, the whole bar was involved in it before police had to come in and break it up. They kicked us all out, so we went back to our barracks, and played some holocards against humanity for the remainder of the night. It was nice to let loose a little, because tomorrow none of us knew what to expect.\n\nI dozed off at some point, and woke up to the sun creeping in through the blinds. Today was the day. We all hopped out of bed, joking that today was doomsday, put on our gear, and headed out. A quick breakfast, then we all received our assigned weapons, and headed into the jet. Inside, there were these funny looking mechanical suits, almost looked like something out of one of those ancient video graphic games I had read about. These things were heavy to put on, but as soon as I got the helmet on and the software was immediately uploaded, I barely felt a thing. \n\nWe sat there for about an hour watching as the world passed through the back window. We went so far that we could see the rounded horizon of the earth. Finally, we stopped and the door opened upward. This was our orbital drop point.\n\n\"You guys ready?\" someone yelled.\n\n\"Hell yeah!\" another replied.\n\nWe stood, all eight of us, ready to jump out. I was the very last, so I watched as one jumped, then another, then another, then the rest of them until finally it was my turn. If you had told me a few weeks ago that I would be dropping out of a space ship in the middle of world war 3, I would have looked at you like you were crazy. Now here I was, no fear, running to the edge before I jumped straight out, to the sound of the cool air whisking against my suit armor. As I flew down, all I could see was the bright reflection of the sunlight across the bright blue earth's horizon.\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] As a new teacher at a school, you've thought the school's "Drill A Day" policy was weird, but now you are a month in and the school has yet to repeat a type of drill. This is getting ridiculous!	[ "\"Good morning ladies and gentlemen, just a reminder, today's drill will be commencing in five minutes. Teachers, please refer to page 1,328, section B for today's drill assignment. Thank you and good luck,\" the principal's voice was smooth as silk as she read out the morning instructions. I didn't think I would ever tire of hearing her voice but these drills were getting ridiculous. Yesterday was 'If Cows Went Extinct' day, the day before that was 'If Lunch Wasn't Served Properly' day. That second one kind of made sense to me. I can get pretty grumpy if I don't eat.\n\nWith a sigh, I hefted the massive book onto my desk as the students studied me. I was still new to the school, let alone teaching in general. I had just gotten my credentials only six months ago. Flipping the comically thick book over, I read the drill of the day.\n\n\"Kaiju?\" I asked aloud, some of the students then beginning to murmur. Reading the instructions, my brow furrowed in confusion.\n\nPlease ask any Cheer Squad Members in the class to don their armor. Afterwards, please exit the building to your assigned sections quickly yet efficiently. The Cheer Members will act as the chaperones for each class and are to be in charge rather than the teacher. This is mandatory as it is integral to our survival, should any Kaiju attack.\n\n\"What the...\" I paused and looked up at the class, \"Uh, anyone part of the Cheer Squad?\" I asked hesitantly.\n\n\"Oh! Me! Me!\" Alice, a young girl with flowing brown hair raised her hand in the air excitedly. The twelve year old child had far too much energy in response to the question even for a child of her age.\n\n\"Uh,\" I referenced the book once more, \"Don, your... armor?\" I asked, then looking up.\n\nThe girl rummaged through her back and quickly produced a small necklace with a white ribbon in place of a chain. In the center there was a ruby crystal and she tapped it with her right hand's index finger.\n\nA bright light filled the room and suddenly, the girl who had been wearing jeans and a Voltron t-shirt a moment ago was now clad in a straight white and blue jumpsuit. Her hair was pulled into pigtails and banded with a similar white and blue fabric that now covered her body. \"Oh!\" she quickly reached into her bag and pulled out a rod with spiraling white and red down it's shaft like a candy cane and a big golden star at one end.\n\n\"Alice?\" I asked with a raised eyebrow, wondering how such a trick would be pulled off.\n\n\"Mr. Clay, I think like. I'm supposed to like, take over--right?\" she asked standing up and walking to the front of the classroom.\n\nReluctantly, I explained to the class that Alice was now in charge and we filed out to our section of the playground by the swing sets. I had to remind the kids that not to stray off, no matter how much they wanted to go and play. Other girls led each class, all dressed like Alice but with different colors. One was red, one was green, and there were others but I couldn't make them out. We were too spread out on the playground.\n\nA roar suddenly came from the speakers attached to the school buildings, from the gym, a large door opened up and two people walked out holding a large cardboard cutout of something.\n\nUpon the cardboard was a massive lizard with scales along it's back, stubby legs and short arms. Across it, literally printed in large letters was: \"Not Godzilla, but Kaiju.\"\n\nRubbing my eyes with one hand, pinching my nose afterwards I sighed. Godzilla... are you serious? I asked myself while Alice and the other girls suddenly ran up to the cardboard cutout.\n\nIn a practiced fashion, the girls circled the cutout and began to chant something I couldn't quite make out. They then raised all of their matching rods to the air and I could then hear the principal's voice. \"Oh no! You got me! Noooo!\"\n\nThe cutout was dropped to the floor then and the principal and her assistant were revealed to have been holding the fragile monster. The principal then grabbed a microphone and her voice boomed from the speakers that had produced the random roar.\n\n\"Excellent work everyone! That was wonderful! I dare say I think we definitely made great time and I think everyone got out safe thanks to our Magical Cheer Squad!\" she waved a hand to the girls all dressed up, the rest of the classes clapping and cheering. \"Now let's file back into our classrooms and get ready to learn! Remember to be prepared for our drill tomorrow and have a great day everyone!\"\n\nSighing and rolling my eyes, I looked around, \"I hate my job.\"" ]	1
	[WP] In the far future, humanity has already successfully colonized other star systems. You are tasked with writing the eulogy for our home planet: Earth.	[ "I looked out the window from my quartering room of the cruiser. Bright blue and lavender streaks painted the distant view, accompanied by bright orange dots all throughout. It would be a few more days before we landed at our next stop, we had a couple hundred more light years to go. This job was pretty rewarding, albeit it required you to take many long trips, which could be a bit boring at times, especially since they didn't have wi-fi access out in these more distant parts of the universe.\n\nAbout 3 years ago (using the roman calendar), I left my job as a computer systems technician to pursue writing. It had always felt like more of a passion of mine, and when I met a woman who was interested in having me help chronicle and archive the history of our human geography, I just couldn't turn it down, especially since it offered quite a handsome salary.\n\nSomeone came through the sliding doors. It was the ship's captain, whom I have not seen since I boarded.\n\n\"Excuse me, Mister Proxima?\" \n\nI stood up to shake his hand. \"Hello sir, it is a pleasure to finally get the chance to speak with you\".\n\n\"The pleasure is all mine. I'm captain Centauri, pleased to meet you.\" The captain, despite being one of the older captains around, was very fit and looked good for his age. He had a head full of silver hair and a finely groomed mustache. He wore a black spandex-like suit with the blue wings insignia on the breast. Similar to mine, only mine contained an orange wing insignia instead of a purple one. The colors were representative of what section of the known universe we came from, and the number of wings represented our rank in our respective factions.\n\n\"So what brings you in here, captain?\"\n\n\"Yes, it appears I have an assignment for you from miss Groombridge.\" He turned on the holographic display from his smart watch and set it to view the message. \"It seems that she would like for you to begin writing the eulogy on planet earth.\"\n\nEarth was my birth planet. I was very young when we left, but I vaguely remember what it was like. Supposedly at one point it was beautiful, with blue skies and mountains and green pastures and lakes. But I remember none of that. The earth that I remember was very gray. Industrial wastelands scattered across the landscape, hollow ground left where lakes once were, mountains weathered by the rapid changing of the climate. We lived in a small apartment until I was about seven years old, which I vaguely remember. It was very small, but it had everything we needed. Then we got the message one day that we could no longer stay. Originally my parents thought we were getting evicted, but it turns out that they were declaring Earth no longer inhabitable, and we were all being given 24 hours to pack our belongings and leave. Thankfully, by this point, humanity was beginning to colonize other parts of the universe, and had successfully perfected terraforming, allowing us to create ecosystems and habitats out of other planets in the universe. We lived on and off of giant spaceships for a while, I even went to school in one. When it came time for me to go to college, I attended Epsilon college, a university on a planet 12 light years from earth. It was there I earned my degree in computer science and began to work for the federation.\n\nFast forward 12 years, and I'm now given the opportunity to write the eulogy for the planet of our origin, and our former home. It was very bitter sweet, considering eulogies were only required to be written after a planet is officially considered to be dead. However, it is considered an honor, since these opportunities are only given to those who of worthy enough credibility. My words would be the ones that would tell people about this planet all across the universe, for eons to come.\n\n\"Consider it done, sir.\" I shook his hand and he left to tend to other matters. I sat down, pointed my watch at the table to allow my holo-screen and keyboard to appear, pulled up the writer application, and began to write.\n\nTo our fellow mother earth, our beloved blue planet,\n\nAs the cradle of human civilization, you nurtured our race in its earliest stages. From the times when our existence was based entirely off of pure survival instinct, you challenged us, but also provided us with all that we needed. You watched us grow and evolve, to amass vast amounts of knowledge, to create scientific discoveries, engineering milestones, and other accomplishments throughout our human existence.\n\nHowever, you also watched as we fought against each other, how the corrupt gained power and how fear, anger, and ignorance plagued our very existence. As our population grew, we demanded more than you could provide, as we took relentlessly to feed our every growing needs for resources. As we took more, we also lay more waste to your grounds, polluting your air and contaminating your waters. \n\nBut through it all, you witnessed human triumph, endurance and diligence. You witnessed the power of the human spirit, and the drive to come together and put forth our effort to solve the problems bestowed by years of carelessness. And you watched as we became more connected than ever before, building the network of unity that became the very lifeline of our existence.\n\nHere we are now, millions of light years away, building our home throughout the universe. It is saddening to know that you are no longer with us, but we will carry on the life lessons that you taught us wherever we go. It was not an easy existence living on your grounds, but you can rest assure now that you no longer have to, as we used to say back then, put up with our bullshit.\n\nFarewell, dear Earth. We will never forget you. May your spirit guide us and protect us always.\n\nAs I saved the document, I pulled out my water bottle and took a drink. I looked out the window once more, as the bright blue streams of stardust painted across the horizon, not knowing where they came from or where they were going." ]	1
	[WP] This morning, someone stole your clothes at the laundromat. Ten hours later, you've just shot a mob boss in your underwear. It's been a long day.	[ "I found myself in a dark, dank basement deep below the city with a corpse at my feet. The room was empty barring a grate in the floor and a single light bulb casually hanging from the ceiling, it swung back and forth slightly from some unseen force. Some of the blood seeped into the cracked stone and settled there while its brethren made its way towards the grate. I sighed deeply and looked up at the bulb pleadingly, if it could just go out I could forget this entire day had happened, unfortunately, it didn't bend to my will and just kept on swinging and humming slightly. With another sigh, I crouched and rummaged through the man's pockets, searching for ammo and their wallet. I found his wallet and flipped it open, inside was his driver's licence and $20 in $5 bills. I went to pocket the wallet and sighed when I heard it impact the ground and splash into the blood.\n\n\"Right,\" I muttered to myself. \"No pants.\" Rolling the corpse over I liberated him of his pants and put them on. They were too big for me and soaked through with blood, but they were black dress pants and the blood wouldn't show up easily, I tightened the belt to its smallest setting. Damn this guy was way bigger than me, but at least I had pants now. Pocketing his wallet properly this time I unscrewed the suppressor off the pistol shoved it into my pocket and jammed the pistol down the back of my waistband. The spare mags I found on him went into my other pocket and I was ready to go. I turned and opened the door, on the other side was a big dude with a stern look on his face. \n\n\"Ah shit.\" Reaching back for my pistol, my fingers managed to graze the grip before his fingers found their way around my neck and began squeezing like I was a lemon and he was helping his kid make lemonade. Keeping myself calm, I kept reaching back and gripped the pistol stronger this time, with quick movements I pulled it out of my waistband, jammed it into his temple and fired. If he did have a kid, he would be growing up without a dad. As his body crumpled, I crumpled with it and breathed in deeply as I tore his hand from my neck. I dropped the mag from my pistol and checked it, 3 bullets left. I tossed the mag back into the room and slammed a new one home. I pulled back the slide halfway and saw that a bullet was already in the chamber. Putting the gun back into my waistband I went to exit this shithole. Damn it's been a long day. I found my way out of the bunker without any further problems, I had to dodge 5 other people dawdling around but none of them saw me so at least I didn't have to drop anyone. As I opened the door and the sun hit my eyes for the first time in 2 hours I was temporarily blinded and in that moment, a hood was shoved over my head, the gun was taken from me and I was thrown into the back of a van. \n\nAfter a 30 minute ride I was dragged out and escorted into a building where they dropped me into a seat and removed the hood. That was when I saw her for the second time that day. Without saying a word I grabbed the wallet from my pocket and tossed it to her, she caught it, opened it and checked the licence and nodded. Then another hood was put over my head. This time it was a 45-minute ride, they tossed me out unceremoniously and then a bag was tossed on the ground next to me. As the car peeled out and disappeared into traffic, I ripped the hood off my head and checked what was in the bag. Inside was my stolen clothes from this morning. With a sigh, I grabbed the bag and began finding my way home.\n\n---\n\nhttps://www.reddit.com/r/Ceruberus/", "Smoke rose slowly from the barrel of the gun. The revolver slipped from my shaking hands and fell to the floor with a clatter. Blood pounded in my ears and my ears were still ringing from the shot. In front of me, dressed immaculately as always and slumped over his desk with blood pouring from his chest, was Jon Vatto. Jon Vatto of the Vatto crime family. Fuck. I wipe the blood splatter from my face off with my hands, then transfer it to my tighty not so whiteys when I wipe my hands on them. As I sit there in a dark leather chair, ears too damaged from the gunshot to hear the buttonmen trying to kick the door down, I can’t help but think that this all started over stolen laundry.\n\nI had dropped my clothes off earlier at a laundromat on this one corner of my cities little Italy. It was a little more expensive than most of the other ones in the city, but it was on the way to work and the little bistro they have next door makes calzones that are like getting sucked off but by your taste buds. What can I say? It’s worth the extra price. \n\nSo I walk in to pick up my clothes, calzone taste still on my lips and maria’s (The pretty girl that always works the registers) phone number on a napkin in my back pocket, and make it all the way to the desk before I realize something. \n\nThe usual customers weren’t in here.\nThen I noticed that in their place were a group of men, all about in their early thirties, wearing dark jeans and a leather jacket. And one of them currently had the barrel of his pistol in the mouth of Mario, the geriatric laundromat owner.\n\n(Yo! I know this is a really bad place to stop but it’s super late where I am. I’ll finish this story in the morning so please keep in mind it is incomplete. Thanks!)\n", "Hour One: \n\nAn elderly lady has just stepped outside of the laundromat with my clothes. I chase her down, running up to her back before realizing I had been caught into a trap that was explicitly planned out.\n\nA laser dot hovered on my forehead, as if there was a sniper in the vicinity. The senile lady turned around, and faced me with a smirk. She dumped the clothes on the ground. \"Sorry it had to happen this way.\" She said, as she threw a lit match into the pile of tortured clothes.\n\n\"Take him away boys.\" The lady said, as the blood in my body boiled. Men from both sides grabbed me and restrained me. They wore white clown masks, and wore pink suits.\n\nI struggled, but the men were disturbingly thick and muscularly superior to me. They were \"Chads.\" \n\nThey threw me into a garbage truck, as I was crowded in piles of trash. The vehicle drove off, and we were headed to a destination unknown to me.\n\nHour Two: \n\nThe second hour was me not trying to drown in filth and disease from the human garbage. I was sinking, and the truck rocked up and down on the bumps. I looked for escape, but none was found, as I rolled around in my underwear. \n\nThe truck stopped, and the men threw me to the asphalt. My head rang, as they shoved pills down my mouth, and injected a syringe into my skin. I became hazy, and the old grandma came up to me, grinning with that same old smile.\n\nAll I can remember is the dragging and stumbling to wherever they were taking me. The shouting and screaming into my ears as they abused me was horrid.\n\nI woke up in a chair, strapped in by a rope, and chained by my neck to the ceiling. The pink suit men came up to me with a operating tray littered with many syringes filled with obscured substances.\n\nThey started injecting the first one into my arm, and my body began shaking violently. My vision was deranged and flickering velvet colored lights. My jaw dropped and I fall asleep.", "Living a bachelor's life at 40 is not easy. Some days are tough and then others even tougher. The horizons of the toughness were to be exceeded to a point of no return today though.\n\nAs I woke up in a rush, only just now remembering to wash my clothes for my interview tomorrow, I almost forgot to carry change with me. I realized my situation as soon as I reached the laundromat. Not wanting to take my clothes back to my apartment, I left the hamper there and hoped that my trust in my beloved city will not be faltered. Alas, it did as soon as I came back at exactly 9 AM.\n\nBeing the frustrating day it was, I wanted to be in the right mental state for my interview and I went to Benichi's to get some spaghetti and meatballs. I have this tradition for myself where I treat myself to expensive food before an interview, I think it put me in a celebratory mood and calmed me.\n\nAnyways, as soon as I reached there, my server Frank asked, \"The usual, sir?\". I nodded and he replied, \"Very well, it will be right out and congrats on the interview\". Looking for a job is tough and Frank, perhaps unwantingly was my partner in the search now. He showed up in only 5 minutes to my surprise and he was as surprised/shocked as myself. He held out the cordless phone and said, \"A call for you, sir\". I shared his bewildered look now.\n\nI picked up the phone and an Asian-like voice said to me, \"We have to reschedule your interview but could not reach your phone - you are a tough man to find but we have our resources. Enjoy your meal, it is on us and a limo will pick you up in 30 minutes\" and just like that, the call dropped. I was shocked!\n\nI finished my meal and happy and somewhat confused headed outside where a chauffeur picked me up and dropped me at the building, dead center of down town with no boards, no name and just a block number written on it. I was always curious about what they do here. Apparently, it was a microchip manufacturing company's offices where I was going to be an accounting clerk - sweet!\n\nAs I reached the 30th floor, I was directed to the guy who was supposed to interview me but he got scared looking at me, for some reason or the other. I traced his gaze to my shirt and decided it was a good idea to start with a joke and said, \"Oh, that is just blood from a guy I just booked for stealing, no big deal!\" My interviewer did not take the joke so lightly and soonI was escorted by security to a private room on the 51st floor.\n\nI was not sure that if they found the joke that bad, why was I not escorted downstairs. The loss of the chance to interview was not at my head. As soon as the elevator opened, I felt a thud on my head and woke up to see my legs being chained and the time was 10 to 7. Wait.... 7 PM? \n\nAs luck would have it, my recruiter was also chained right next to me, both his knee caps busted and from my little understanding of mandarin, I could comprehend that the were enquiring as to what he told me about the firm. This is a very weird interview process, I thought to myself and decided to keep shut to avoid offending someone from another joke.\n\nAfter beating him up some more the Boss, without noticing my consciousness, asked the guards to leave him alone and stood talking to Jerry discussing the interview protocol. I noticed a gun tucked in an entrapment near his ankle and figured it was the only way I could get out of here alive. \n\nI quickly drew the Glock 17 (sweet taste, this guy has!) and pointed it at him, signaling him to not make a sound and unshackle me. Figuring he had nothing to loose, the boss complied.\n\nHaving watched too many action movies, I took him hostage and asked him to call his guards inside. They complied. I exclaimed everyone to not make any moves or at the slightest hint of anyone trying to act smart, I will shoot the guy. \n\nEverything was going well until the hour hand hit 7 and the ominous choice of the boss' alarm tone led to his demise. On hearing the sound of a machine gun, without even thinking if anyone in the room had any, I decided to shoot the guy in panic and to assert dominance, I guess!\n\nI am not sure what happens now but from the look of it, I might be replacing the guy I shot soon. Well, not the one I came for, but at least I got a job now! Ohh.. and did I forget to mention that I was being carried in my underwear for the celebration? Weird day!\n" ]	4
	[WP] The police finally came and arrested the man who has been lurking around your house for several weeks. Little did you know, he had been protecting you all along.	[ "“That’s him officer. There’s no mistaking it. I’ve seen him on the CCTV every night this week,” Daniel said. It was uncharacteristically cold for a Florida summer night, and so both Daniel and the police officer found it odd they were both shivering. \n\t\n\n“We’ll need to see the footage,” began the officer. “But I can book him for trespassing for now. The sergeant will stop by in the morning to collect the evidence. The paperwork can wait until then. Get some sleep for now.” \n\t\n\n“Thanks for your help,” Daniel breathed. He took a final look at the man in the back seat of the police cruiser, the same man who had been creeping around the backyard most nights. His somber, downcast eyes shot up as the officer opened the driver-side door and stepped in. \n\t\nThere was something unmistakably strange about the man, something Daniel couldn’t shake since the first time he saw him on his private camera. He wasn’t a hobo. No, that was clear. The man wore a fine tailored suit, expensive black oxfords, and an odd white wristwatch.\n\t\nRight before the cruiser sped off the man’s face wrenched in terror. He mouthed something incomprehensible at Daniel, though he didn’t make a sound, and when Daniel began to turn away he heard a loud pounding against the glass. The trespasser was slamming his forehead against the glass, opening bleeding cuts that dripped blood. . . green blood.\n\t\nLosing his patience, the officer attempted to restrain the man. When that failed, he began striking him, but instead of fighting back the trespasser continued to bang his head against the window. \n\t\nDaniel watched in horror, stepping back just in case things got worse. He had seen the news, actually he was quite addicted to the local news station. It didn’t take much for a bystander to accidentally find himself with a bullet hole. So when he turned to run to his front door Daniel froze in dismay at the powerful sound of shattering glass.\n\t\n“Wait!” the trespasser screamed.\n\t\nDaniel glanced over his shoulder to see the man breaking free of the officer’s grips. He had even freed himself of the handcuffs. With the door locked the man was diving out the cruiser’s window, desperately trying to release the wristwatch.\n\t\n“Don’t make me tell you again you son of a bitch!” screamed the officer.\n\t\n“Take it!” yelled the trespasser. “Take the watch!” with one hand the man threw his watch to Daniel. \n\t\nDaniel didn’t know why he reached for it, maybe it was instinct. As he reached out to grab the watch from the air it seemed to unnaturally slow and slip right into place at Daniel’s left wrist.\n\t\n“How in the--” Daniel began, just as the sound of a taser fired into the trespasser’s chest. The sound of the shock painted Daniel’s face a new shade of panic. \n\t\nThe air was quiet for a moment and even colder than before. Wordlessly Daniel all but ran back inside his home and slammed the door shut behind him. The sound of the cruiser’s tires screeching against the road pierced the quiet for a time.\n\t\nWith his back against the door Daniel breathed heavily, eyes closed, absently ringing the watch. When he opened his eyes it wasn’t the watch he saw first, but the darkness of the home.\n\t\n“Why are the lights off?” he asked to no one. Living alone and embarrassingly afraid of the dark, Daniel always had the lights on. “That’s just great. Did the power go off?” he sighed. He nervously flipped the nearest light switch. Up. Down. Up. Nothing. “Guess I’ll find a flashlight.”\n\t\n“Flashlight engaged,” said a mysterious voice.\n\t\nFrom the wristwatch a powerful light started to shine. “What the hell?” he said. For the first time Daniel looked at the watch intently. It didn’t look that strange close up. Perhaps a bit outdated, or was it a take on retro-futurism? The white leather was at least half a century old, and the gold plate was rubbed-worn. “What are these blue circles?” Instead of numbers or roman numerals in the clock’s face there were three circular runes that seemed to glow blue. As he moved the circles moved as well no different than a pocket compass. Before he could look at the watch further he heard a sound coming from his room.\n\t\n“What was that!” he said to himself. He checked his pockets. “Must be my phone vibrating upstairs. I can’t worry about that now, I need to get the power on.”\n\t\n“Power engaged,” said the mysterious voice, coming from the watch. All at once the home’s power flickered on. Every light, every appliance, anything connected to the power was turned on all at once while the wrist watch’s light faded.\n\t\nDaniel jumped back, slamming his back against the front door. “What--” he started, now fearing why his voice might do. He clawed at the watch trying fiercely to remove it, but to no avail. There was no clasp or release to the watch that Daniel could see, and after a few infuriating minutes Daniel began to turn off the various appliances, T.V.’s, and unnecessary lights. \n\t\nWhen he made his way to his bedroom upstairs he cautiously opened the door. What did he expect to find? \n\t\nThe room was empty. Not just empty of oddities that had plagued him the past hour, but wholly empty. His bed was gone. His dresser, his paintings, everything were all missing! He noticed last that in one corner the wall paint had been partially stripped off, exposing the drywall.\n\t\nThe closet door remained. It squeaked when Daniel looked at it.\n\t\n“This can’t be happening. This is a dream. Yes, this is all a dream,” Daniel said as he nervously, stupidly walked to the closet door. “I’m in my bed. I’m asleep. Tomorrow is a workday. I will wake up rested and I’ll make myself a fine breakfast after this mess.” \n\t\n“Breakfast engaged,” said the mysterious voice.\n\t\n“No!” Daniel yelled.\n\nA traditional English breakfast materialized on a plate in the air. Before it had it the chance to fall the closet door exploded and the blue-green gelatinous creature stormed out and engulfed the food.\n\t\nDaniel watched, perfectly still, as the creature digested the food near instantly. The contents bubbled inside it’s translucent body. Daniel attempted to make a step backwards, but in doing so the floorboard squeaked.\n\t\nThe creature turned to face him. It’s odd, misshapen spheres that Daniel took for eyes had both the look of fear and glee. From its four noise-holes the creatures bellowed like a dozen crying babies then rolled into Daniel, knocking him aside, before rolling down the stairs into the living room. \n\t\nDaniel fell backwards now covered in the creatures blue-green ooze. “Nope, this isn’t happening. None of this is happening. I’m going to sleep right here and I’ll wake up in the morning just fine.”\n\t\nSounds of electronics breaking downstairs reached Daniel’s ears. \n\t\n“I’m going to wake up early and--” Daniel interrupted himself. “Shut up you idiot,” he said to himself and glanced at the watch. The runes glowed brilliantly in the direction of the stairs.\n\t\n“This isn’t happening,” he repeated. “This isn’t happening.”\n\t\nFrom downstairs more sounds of appliances breaking thundered.\n\t\nDaniel closed his eyes and covered his ears as he laid on the bare floor. “No not the china!” Daniel said after hearing the plates shattering downstairs.\n\t\nPicking himself up Daniel ran downstairs to find that most of the living room had already been engulfed. The creature was working the couch the way a snake might devour a creature larger than itself. \n\n“Is it growing?” Daniel said in fear. “Stop that! Stop this instant!” He began hitting the creature with one of the couch’s broken-off legs, but after the third hit the wood melded into the creature’s body, sizzling as it became digested.\n\n“Oh god, oh god. Not the T.V.!”\n\n“--have reports of an officer down at sixteen and--” the news anchor was saying as the\nBlob devoured the television. \n\t\n“Don’t you have any manners?” Go. . Go away you. . you blasted--”\n\n“Blaster Activated,” said the watch.\n\n“Ah!” Daniel screamed as the watch’s metal began to expand and grow around his arm in in the shape of a gauntlet. It moved on its own and raised a fist toward the creature.\n\n“Fizzleskorp identified,” the voice said. “Blaster intensity twenty percent. Engaging.”\n\nA fantastic screech bellowed from the gauntlet as a light as blinding as the sun poured out. Daniel shaded his eyes with his free handed and winced at the deafening sound. He fell backwards after the blast and opened his eyes to find the creature had been vaporized.\n\nBits of blue-green goo covered the room and Daniel included. There was a severe lack of anything where the blob had been, including a lack of a wall. There was a massive hole in the wall, the edges also covered in goo, exposing burning grass and trees outside. \n\n“My god,” Daniel said as he rose to inspect the damage. Everything in the blast’s direction was blackened or vaporized entirely. A hundred feet away small fires were burning. Stacks of smoke climbed into the night.\n\n“This is a dream. Yes, this is all a dream. Quiet a vivid dream, yes. Very vivid. What an extraordinary imagination you have, Daniel. Thank you, Daniel.” he said to himself.\n\nFootsteps reached his ears behind him. Daniel whirled in fear to find an unfamiliar, yet familiar face.\n\n“My lord, there is no time to explain but we must leave.” The voice was that of the trespasser from earlier. Drips of green blood still meandered from the cut of his forehead, but now red blood covered the breast of his suit. There was a gun in his hand.\n\n“Who-- My lord? What is happening?”\n\n“There is no time to explain, we only have a moment. The locals will reach us soon. We must--”\n\nPolice sirens blared in the distance. \n\nDaniel blinked absently. “This is all a dream. This is--”\n\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] She pulled the gun out of the desk, pulled the hammer of the revolver back. As her finger quivered on the trigger, she said to him flatly, “I’ve never loved someone as much as I love you.”	[ "“I’ve been looking for your husband a very long time, do you know what kinds of things he was involved in? Trafficking, embezzling, manslaughter! If you wouldn’t have hired me who knows how far this goes” So tell me, why do you want him dead? \n\n“I could go on for hours about that lying, cheating, piece of shit but I’ll save you those flattering details and I couldn’t care less if you were looking for him, just makes you the right man for the job. I looked for people in your line of work, and I came across you Joseph Sullivan, best there is right?”\n\n“How do you know my name? That’s impressive, not many people know that and are still alive.”\n\n“I’m sure you have done your research on me as well, or do you take a hundred grand from just any women?”\n\n“Lawyers always pay well, but I would cap that son of a bitch for free, I might actually enjoy myself this time, I’ve been doing this for over a decade, I’m usually emotionless, emotions get in the way, this time is different I’m exited. How and when do you want it done?” \n\n“Here in my office, in three minutes” He always brings me my lunch at noon every day, its eleven fifty seven, I hope you brought something quiet.’\n\n‘Of course I’m a professional, do you want to leave the room?”\n \n“No I want to see you do it” \n\n“I’ve never seen someone so casual about these matters”\n\n“You never met me, Fuck it I’ll do it, just sit there and then dispose of the body, keep the 100 grand”\n\n“Fine, easiest money I’ve ever made, you need a weapon?”\n“No I have my own”\n\nShe pulls out a revolver\n\n“You’re going to shoot him with that in here? You know how much noise that will make? The police will be here in 5 minutes” \n\n“Yeah good thing about this office, it’s completely insulated, lots of high level clients come through here, and they get paranoid that someone’s always listening. \n\nShe puts the gun in her lap under the desk as her Husband enters the room\n\n“Hi honey, only had time to being you leftovers today”. He sees the strange gentleman sitting beside his wife. “Sorry am I interrupting?”\n\n“No he’s an old friend, come join us” \n\n“Alright so about that deal………” He stops mid-sentence as she pulls the gun out from under the desk, pulled the hammer of the revolver back and points it directly at him. As her finger quivered on the trigger, she said to him flatly, “I’ve never loved someone as much as I love you.”\n\n“What the fuck, Jess!”\nShe quickly swung the barrel over to Joseph and put a bullet right between his eyes before he had any time to react. \n\n“Here! Right now! You had to do this now Jessica, at least give me a warning, this is my favorite suite”\n“Brady, this is the man who killed your sister, Happy Anniversary” \n\nA blank confused stare consumes him as looks at the remains of the man, looks back at his wife who is now covered in blood who is smiling back at him. He takes a step forward and asks his wife “Are you sure?” She nods and then they embrace \n", "For the first time in a long while she saw a glint in his eyes of that elusive emotion that so fascinated her. Randall's face was a surprised mask but behind it was a hint of what could almost be described as joy.\n\n\"What's this about Jess?\"\n\n\"I know everything.\"\n\nRandall blinked twice. He didn't bring his hands up but instead stepped forward slowly. He pulled a chair over and sat down. He brushed his hair back.\n\n\"I love you too Jess. Tell me what you know.\"\n\n\"I know about your lies. I know about your work. You've lied to me all these years.\"\n\nRandall looked genuinely surprised at that. \"I don't think that's worth killing me over, is it?\"\n\nJess took a deep breath. Her patience, or rather lack of, was something Randall loves to test. He noticed it as well and wiped the smile off his face.\n\n\"I spoke with your father. He told me how they adopted you. You were never their real son.\"\n\n\"Why would that be an issue?\"\n\n\"He told about what you put them through growing up. What you did to your mother. He explained to me why you have no childhood friends of your own.\"\n\n\"Did he now? I always took him to be the silent type.\" Randall adjusted his tie and leaned back. He was making himself more comfortably in a way to tease her. He was still in control.\n\n\"I want to know from you, right now, who you really are. Why are you like this? Do you even know what you do to other people?\"\n\nRandall smiled. She saw the joy and relief in his face. At last he didn't have to pretend.\n\n\"That's a dramatic question Jess, but I'll oblige however I can.\"\n\nHe brushed his hair back again but this time when he was done he dug his nails in over his forehead and dragged down. The skin split, and he left four long gashes down his face. The blood immediately began to trickle down the gashes, but it was much too dark to be red. It was entirely black.\n\n\"I'm just like you, but not like you. I am human, yet I had no father nor mother. I don't even know where I came from. I was always told that I had to survive and be like everyone else, and I tried to do just that. Still, Jess, and you noticed it about me, this wasn't easy. I am not like everyone else.\"\n\nRight before her eyes the black blood was drying up and the gashes were closing. \n\n\"I don't understand everything about being a person. I try to, but I cannot get all of the peculiarities just right. I do my best, but there is always something missing.\"\n\nHe smiled in that mocking way that was so Randall of him. It was the smile he had when he spoke about the coworkers he despised or acquantainces that he described as worthless.\n\n\"I get that missing ingredient from causing pain onto others. I don't intend to hurt anyone physically nor do I want or need to. That is simply a barbaric way to go about things. I enjoy seeing people contradict themselves. I enjoy unraveling the tangles of their lies. I enjoy making them face their insecurities and break apart as they do so. I enjoy observing this flawed human existence that I can't quite match. It feeds me. I drive everyone away in the end but I thoroughly enjoy it. The weaknesses that you all have make me feel stronger.\"\n\n\"You don't need to know the details why. You don't need to know how. My parents wanted to get rid of me when they realized what I was, but they could not. I ensured that they could not. As you know well, they are well taken care of now. I handsomely rewarded them.\"\n\nHe paused and added.\n\n\"Well, one of them, at least. The one still alive.\"\n\nHe clasped his hands together and leaned forward. He made no attempt to grab the gun and Jess saw no reason to feel afraid.\n\n\"I am so excited! I knew you were special Jess. I'll let you know on a secret - I never loved anyone as much as I loved you either. I have never been so genuine with a human before, and this is so exciting. It's like making love all over again! Now you know my last secret. There is truly nothing left to hide. This is exhilirating!\"\n\n\"I'll tell you one more thing,\" he added pulling even closer. In an instant he had his hands on the gun and pulled it against his forehead. She tried to pull away but he held it in place with inhuman strength. Her finger trembled against the trigger.\n\n\"I have never been killed before. I don't know if I can be, but I know that there is only one person that I want to do the deed. You are the most beautiful and fascinating human I've ever known. I'm more than honored to die by your hand.\"\n\nHis eyes were wild with anticipation. They stared into her, all too cold and now obviously inhuman in their nature. He didn't blink even once. His fixed grin was like that of a caricature.\n\n\"Randall let me go. You're hurting me.\" She could barely force the words out. Her voice was so meek she felt like a child again. \n\nThe smile faded immediately and he let her hands go. He grabbed the gun from her hands briskly and held it up admiringly. Then he turned to her, and how the smile on his face was not of excitement but of his trademark cruelty.\n\n\"Jess, my dear. You know how much I despise weakness.\" He shook his head and put the gun to his temple. \"You'll make me do this to myself? It's so pathetic. At least do me the favor of not looking away.\"\n\nWithout hesitation he pulled the trigger." ]	2
	[WP] The only place fire can burn is Earth because no other planet has enough oxygen. The aliens are invading earth and you have the ultimate weapon: A spray deodorant and a lighter	[ "Fire. Mesmerizing, intruiging, inviting. I've been obsessed with fire since I was a young child. Growing up, I leapt at any opportunity to make it. Harness it, inflict harm with. \n\nCynical? Nah. They're only bugs. They probably don't feel pain anyway. The emotions I experience because of them is far more important than what they could possibly be going through. I hate them.\n\n\"What the. . .\" was all I could let out as I stepped outside and glanced to the side. Thousands of them crawling cryptically. I've never seen so many at once. \"Soon\", they spelled out infront of me. This is it. I'm going to eradicate them. I can't take it anymore. \n\nQuickly, I ran into my house and grabbed my weapons of choice for these things. Exiting, they already arranged themselves into another message. \"Elders are nearing\", my mind contemplating, heart racing. Instinctively, I pull the triggers. They don't move, squirm, run. Anything like they used to. \n\n\"Here\", they write as the ground shakes. I stared in awe, flattened to the ground by the shear force above. I can't move for a moment, which felt like hours, paralyzed by fear. Still in hand are my tools. Lighter, Axe. All I've ever needed, all I would need then. I ignite the air toward the creatures incoming. It backfires, singes my face as I scream in pain. \n\nThat's all I remember from that night 22 years ago today. I failed, how could I know I was engaging in an actual war? All I knew was they were a gross bug with pincers. I was wrong. I'm now simply a slave at one of the hundreds of internment camps around the world. We feed on their excrement. That's all they give us.\n\nSoon, we'll all die. I know it. Fire continues to scorch the earth, they abuse it more than I did. Lighter, Axe. That's what they use. I didn't know that combination could be so powerful, clearly they did.\n\nI can't tell what the Earwig's endgame is, but our piece of history is soon to be erased. \n\n------\n\nNever done this before, sorry if it's terrible lol. I hate earwigs. ", "\"Well that was stupid\", the president remarked as he looked at the official damage report. \" Stupid, but remarkably painful for our diplomat, the poor and defenseless wig on his head got singed behond repair. The man is still really upset he looked like a fool in front of thousands of soldiers.\" The general remarked.\n\n\"What now?\", the president asked. \" we caught them and keep them in a place with this same atmosphere as their ship, far away from body spray.\" The general said with a smirk. \"They kept saying tznep wran vul as we arrested them, we don't know what it means\" he added to finish the conversation.\n\nThe invasion, or as the news called it: the axevasion, had gone into the news as the most disappointing news to ever reach international attention. The aliens, now known by their official species name: shamalanus signus weirdus, would lead us to greatness as they left us a warp engine to reproduce.\n\nAs our space adventures began we learned the meaning of infinity as the next generation of spaceships flew towards the future. We also met the civilisation that explained the meaning of tznep wran vul as the following:\"it's just a prank bro\".\n\nThey never asked for the prisoners to be returned." ]	2
	[WP] You head to the grocery store and start thinking to yourself the things you need to get. “Don’t forget to buy milk this time.” Says an unknown voice inside your head for the first time.	[ "\"Fruit, lunch meat, bread, a roast for dinners....\" I was quietly listing off things I needed as I rode the bus to the grocery store. It was a twice weekly routine I had. Occasionally people would stare at me mumbling to myself, but, as I looked around the near empty, tattered vehicle, I wasn't too concerned about that. \n\n-Don't forget to buy milk this time.-\n\nI paused for a moment, then continued, \"Right, milk, how could I forget milk?\"\n\nSeveral minutes past and the bus finally stopped in front of Greg's, the local grocery store. I stood up and walked out of the bus, waving to the driver in thanks. I like to be kind to the people around me when I can.\n\n-You forgot your bags.-\n\nI turned around, watching the bus drive off. That was the second time I'd had an internal voice talking to me. That never really happened, I typically thought in images and concepts more than words. That being said, it wasn't too weird. Unless I was going crazy. \n\nA laugh escaped me and I walked into the store, chuckling softly. I waved to the sole clerk working that evening and picked up a black, plastic bin. My feet carried me onward into the produce section of the store. \n\nApples, oranges, potatoes, onions. My hands quickly pulled things into the bin, and I mentally checked things off of my list.\n\n-You should duck.-\n\nI looked around, confused at the voice. As I turned towards the store entrance, I saw a large man aiming a shotgun at me. I scrambled to the floor as his first shot went off. Chunks of apple and bits of watermelon cascaded down over me, and I felt a burning pain in my right shoulder.\n\n\"What the fuck!\" I shouted.\n\n-I did warn you. Next time, listen.-\n\nNot pausing to consider the voice in my head, I sprinted away from the shotgun wielding lunatic shooting at me. Another burst of metal pellets blasted the fruit stand to my left and I quickly pivoted towards the butcher station, blocking my view of him with a rack full of day old bread. \n\n-The butcher keeps a pistol in the drawer below her carving knives.-\n\nI didn't pause to consider what it had said, but instead vaulted over the meat counter, trying to ignore the sound of a shotgun blast and the continued pain in my right shoulder. The butchers station, swept clean and closed up for the night, was dimly lit only by the harsh white light from the rest of the store.\n\nMy panicked eyes roved around the dark until they latched onto the large, shiny knives hanging from the back wall over a massive table inset with several drawers. I sprinted over and started to rip open the first drawer.\n\n-Not that one.- The voice stated in a droll tone as I found a drawer full of wetstones. -Try the one in the middle.-\n\nI listened and pulled open the middle drawer, there it was, a gleaming revolver. My hands shakily picked it up. I had never fired a gun before.\n\n-Duck.-\n\nI dropped to the floor without hesitation as the shooters next gunshot blasted several knives off of the wall. Following this I quickly stood up and pointed the gun at the man. I didn't even get a good look at him before I pulled the trigger. Click.\n\n-Next time check the safety.-" ]	1
	[WP] You're a lone traveller exploring the universe, when you have to make an emergency landing. Viola! You've found the Utopian world which has so far only been a myth. You stay there for a few weeks until you start to realise that something isn't right.	[ "\"Thanks for supplying me with everything I need, Grizz.\" you've told them your nickname, which is Aeri. You didn't tell them your real name. \"You guys have been great hosts.\" \n\n\"Ah, no problem Aerian.\" \n\n\"It's Aeri.\" \n\n\"Sorry, Rythian. I'll call you Aeri, then.\" \n\n\"Uhh... I'm going to go now.\" You're visibly surprised that they know your real name. \n\n\"We know everything, Rythian, citizen of Terra.\" \n\n\"Then what am I thinking of now?\" \n\n\"Cheese. More specifically, cream cheese. Now oleander.\" \n\n\"Oookay, I'm leaving now.\" \n\nThose guys are weird. You enter you ship, which is locked by your biometric signature. You fall asleep, wondering what to do tomorrow. You wake up with someone poking you. \n\n\"I'm sorry, Aeri. You can't leave this place. Goodbye.\" The last thing you see is his fluffy brown face, which slowly fades to nothing. " ]	1
	[WP] You own the macguffin. Nobody has a clue what it does, but everybody seems to want it	[ "The tavern was quiet, which I much prefer when it's harvest time. It means the people who are actually important are out doing what they're supposed to. By implication, it also means the Important People have gotten themselves sorted out for the moment. That day was, well, I'd say \"bucolic\" but nobody in this town knows what that word means and they'd probably think they'd need to see a physicker. People might remember the big battles and tell the tales of slaughter and glory, but it was days like that one that really should be etched in and held to an ideal. I'm a romantic though.\n\nI was behind the bar like usual when the young traveler burst through the door and collapsed just inside. May gave him a look followed by an eye roll at me. I shrugged and started to come around from behind the bar to help him up. Then a small round object rolled out of his backpack, hit the floor and slowed to stop precisely in the dusty-moted ray of sunlight that angled through the door. We both froze. \n\nThe damn thing was back, finally.\n\nI shook my head. Damn. I'd liked this kingdom. I gave May a sad look. She nodded. Then I picked up the ball--it's edges had been carved off this time and it looked like a sphere made of stone polished so much as to appear glassy with a softly sparkling interior. When my palm hit it, I felt the old surge of ambition and promise of power. As I crossed the tavern floor, I felt the tendrils of the damn thing trying to weave their way into my mind.\n\nHello my old friend, I thought, yes, you're back. What great misfortune will you visit on the world this time?\n\nI was about to put the damn thing back on its place on the mantle when I realized that the fact that it was a ball now was going to complicate things. May, ever prepared, appeared at my elbow with a tiny pillow. It was a touch threadbare, I thought, but once I'd placed it on the mantle and nestled the damn thing into its folds, I had to concede, the lack of opulence lent the damn thing a certain character. A certain....\n\n\"Occultishness,\" said May. She was standing nearby and giving it a look. She nodded and handed me the damn thing's name plate, the nail, and a hammer.\n\n\"So what do you figure?\" I asked, taking the tools. I lined up the hammer with the nail and tapped it into the mantlepiece just beneath the pillow. Then I hung the name plate on the nail and stepped back to review my handiwork. She was right. The damn thing looked like some sort of occult artifact on its purple velvet pillow, illuminated in the slanted rays coming from outside.\n\nMay clucked her teeth and gave it some thought.\n\n\"Four months,\" she said.\n\n\"How so?\" I asked.\n\n\"Travel limitations,\" she said, \"this time around the people can't move messages faster than by horse. Technically they could use a runner, but they've yet to figure that out. King Arent did set up post stations, which is nice. Still, that's a month in to the King, a month further to his enemies, then two more for those enemies to come calling. I suppose I could hedge a bit and give them a week or two to finalize assembling their coup.\"\n\n\"Only a week or two? How do you know how well the enemies of the King are prepped?\"\n\n\"Lady Silverwine was here last week, you remember?\"\n\n\"Ah,\" I said, \"King Arent's official mistress...\" I pretended a wistfulness that she knew damn well was fake, but sometimes you go through the motions because habits are hard to break.\n\n\"Don't you go getting any ideas, mister,\" she said, proving my point.\n\nWe both sighed in unison. I thought we had more time.\n\n\"Who can we protect this time,\" I asked after a long while.\n\nMay held up her fingers and ticked them off one by one.\n\n\"Josephine and Hans,\" she said, \"they both work here. I'd like to keep an eye on Farmer Gale. His young wife is pregnant--\"\n\n\"Oh really? That makes their.. third?\"\n\n\"Fourth,\" she corrected. \"Yes, so them and their family is eight, or will be when the little one arrives.\"\n\n\"Rough time to be born,\" I said.\n\n\"Anyway, who have you got on your list?\" she asked.\n\n\"Oh, Phillip Langford,\" I said. \"I'd like to keep him around. The area is going to need a lord once the government crumbles. He's kind, listens to the concerns of the peasants and if his father the Duke wasn't around would probably do an okay job.\"\n\n\"He's in love with Cicero Fleet,\" she said.\n\n\"So? What's wrong with that?\"\n\n\"The next Duke will need an heir or we'll be knee-deep in revolution for the next decade.\"\n\n\"Hmm,\" I said, \"how about we add Marjorie Swift to the list? She's a woman who declines the company of men, and she's a dab hand at organizing crisis response. Remember when the Kelton farm caught fire? Marriage might save them both. As for the heir, well, let's make a point to consider soliciting the Jade Empress. She's got to have something in that draconic noggin of hers to help a woman have a baby without a man's help. She owes me one.\"\n\nMay tilted her head to the side. \"Sounds like you're setting up a 'Chosen One' narrative,\" she said. \"We haven't done that in a long time.\"\n\n\"It's an oldie but a goodie,\" I said. \"Ought to end the mess on a positive note, though.\"\n\n\"Anyone else on your list?\"\n\n\"The usual,\" I said, \"as much of the village as possible. We'll always need food and firewood. I'd say keep only the good ones, but you and I both know you have to have some troublemakers or things get screwy.\"\n\nAt this point, we realized that the young traveler had recovered somewhat and was staring at us, slack-jawed, from a short distance away. He was still shaky on his feet, but he pointed at the ball on the mantle and collapsed into a nearby chair.\n\n\"It's done!\" he said. \"My quest is over. Kujiro can finally rest. Yatta.\"\n\nI nodded at May and she smiled before closing off her eyes with the persona of a tavern wife. She walked to his table and gave him a slight curtsy.\n\n\"Good traveler,\" she said, \"welcome. We thank you for returning this item and congratulate you on completion of your quest. May we provide you with anything to eat or drink?\"\n\nHe'd been ignoring her.\n\n\"That's not its name,\" he said, raising a hand to wave at the damn thing.\n\nMay gave me a look and then left to the kitchen. It was our standard signal. I was up.\n\n\"Good lad!\" I boomed, catching him by surprise. \"Welcome to my inn! I am Hadrek the Tavernkeep! To whom do I have the honor of speaking?\"\n\nHe blinked a couple times at the sheer volume and then slowly stood to sketch me a bow, wincing slightly at the pain before he sat back down.\n\n\"This one has the honor of being the third son of Okibo Natofune, Lord of Heikei,\" he said. \"It would be an honor to refer to this one as Okibo Sanjuro.\"\n\nI gave him a formal bow of acknowledgement in the style of the Eastern Isles, which again startled him.\n\n\"Okibo Sanjuro,\" I said, \"welcome to my inn. Please accept the kind food we provide and reward us accordingly.\"\n\nHe nodded. Having recovered himself somewhat, he pointed again at the damn thing on the mantle.\n\n\"Why is it called that?\" he asked.\n\n\"Because that is its name,\" I said. \"What did your country call it?\"\n\n\"The Incandescent Sphere of Jubei Hajiyama,\" he said.\n\nI studied him a moment and then I asked him the important question:\n\n\"What are you going to do now,\" I asked.\n\nHe was silent as he rolled the idea in his head, then he squinted at the finely hammered print underneath the damn thing's name plate and I saw a horrid realization dawn. He didn't say a word, but his brows furrowed slightly. May arrived in practiced silence at the exact moment when he needed a drink to continue his ruminations. Without a pause in thought, he picked up the tankard and sipped, discovered clean water, then took a deep drink. I was politely silent, but excused myself to go back to polishing the long bar. Eventually he came up to the rail, sat down on a stool and coughed politely.\n\n\"Pardon,\" he said, \"I never answered your question.\"\n\n\"Oh?\" I said.\n\n\"I carried it from the far Eastern Islands to here,\" he said. \"It took me fifteen months of hard travel through wilderness, desert, and death. Each step forward was met with horrors--demons, oni, yokai--all tried to stop me and fell before my sword. Bandits in this country attacked me and I was injured. When I lay near death in a cave, I first heard what Kujiro had called singing. I knew then why he'd told me to slay him and return it here. It felt like it wanted me to turn back, to destroy all who opposed me and seize the Jade Throne.\"\n\n\"It does that,\" I said.\n\n\"Yes,\" he said, \"but I resisted. I brought it all the way here. Now, I read the plate you have placed underneath it and know my quest was all for nothing--worse than nothing--I know that I have ruined this kingdom and maybe the world.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" I said, \"you have. But that doesn't tell me what you're going to do now.\"\n\nHe nodded and then backed away a pace from the rail, knelt and placed his hands on the floor in front of him a moment before his forehead bent to hit the floor.\n\n\"Let me stay here and prevent any who wish to take it from doing so,\" he said. \"To honor Kujiro's memory.\"\n\n\"We don't stop anyone from taking it,\" I said. \"In fact, we much prefer it gone. We'll need an extra sword or two in the village though now that it's back. You can protect them to honor his memory. I'd suggest you speak to the headman, Edgar, first. Just tell him who you are and how you got here. Most of the villagers have an ancestor who did the same idiotic thing and brought it back. You'll be welcome.\"\n\nHe stood stiffly and bowed deeply to me again.\n\n\"Thank you for your kindness,\" he said, \"I am sorry to have caused this destruction.\"\n\n\"You couldn't have known,\" I said.\n\nHe left the tavern without a backward glance. I polished another glass before setting it on the shelf with the others. Opening a ledger I fished from behind the bar, I ran a finger down the page and tried to ignore the way the damn thing softly sparkled in the mid-afternoon light. It was back, and that meant I'd need to be stocking up on supplies again.", "As I'm in the train with a tablet in hand, I get this sudden feeling that I've forgotten something important. I hear a loud robotic voice spewing out numbers. It's coming from the tablet, so I look down at it and see a button that has the label \"Text\" in a blue font, and the number 114 just above the button. The number turns to 113, and then 112, both of which were spoken aloud by the robotic voice for everyone to hear. Clearly a countdown, but to what? Also, does this button stop it? I'm not sure because the label doesn't tell me anything about its function.\n\nI realize that everyone else in the train is staring at me, or more specifically, staring at the tablet in my hands. I don't even own a tablet, so I don't understand why I'm holding one. Maybe it belongs to someone else on the train, so I ask. I get a response saying it's theirs, followed by another person claiming the same, and then another, and another. The countdown is now at 80.\n\nRealizing that lying won't work, the other passengers begin to argue for why they should have the tablet. One person wants it so that they can push the button and stop the countdown, believing that it's a bomb. Another person yells that the button might be the actual trap, and that the countdown is a decoy. Some think that it'll play a video that brainwashes those who see it, or that it'll release a poisonous gas. Others just want the tablet to prove that it's completely harmless and thereby end the arguments before it turns violent. However it's too late for that, as the countdown has reached 21.\n\nAlmost like clockwork, the instant that the robotic voice said 20, I get a sense of deja vu. I remember having pressed the button labeled \"Text\" before in a situation similar to this one, and how doing so caused the countdown to go back to 120. It's not a button to stop it, but a button to reset it. It won't save us, but it'll buy us enough time to deal with it rationally. With so little time, I push the button without telling anyone. Rather than count the next number, the robotic voice states that a reset will commence. Success! I look down at the tablet, and the label on the button has been updated to reveal it's true function. \n\nIt says \"[Reset](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/76sb8k/wp_you_own_the_macguffin_nobody_has_a_clue_what/dogjjow/?utm_content=permalink&utm_medium=api&utm_source=reddit&utm_name=WritingPrompts)\"." ]	2
	[WP] You wake up with a HP bar and an XP bar at the corner of your vision. Your current mission is to reach Lv. 100 or your life will be a living hell. But the only way to gain XP is to kill.	[ "So what would you do if you had to kill untold amounts of life to preserve your own quality of life?\n\nIf your answer was anything involving a self-sacrifice then you are incredibly stupid. No, bad idea. If your answer involved killing people, then you need help and to think about your life for a bit.\n\nNo, you don't need to kill people for your levels. The wording given is to kill. \n\nNo-one said it was kill humans. So what do you do?\n\nKill creatures. I started off small, cockroach infestations and other pests met death at my hands, but they eventually gave me all the xp that they could when I hit level 20 from my level 1. So I improvised. I saved my money from my part time exterminator job and my 9-5 office shift and moved to Australia, the home of some of the most dangerous animals on this earth. \n\n\nThe most dangerous creatures in games, give the most exp. Where better to find danger then in a country ravaged by man many times over? There is when I started racking up the exp. Stonefish were stabbed, hordes of birds were shot from the sky when swooping season came, and one time once I got to level 90, I fist fought a kangaroo and won! But it had to end, and end it did at level 99.\n\nNothing I did before gave me xp after that. Not even the most dangerous of predators wandering the outback, the honey badger, gave me a drop of that precious xp! I was, for once, dumbstruck. What must I hunt now to get that last level? But then, in my darkest moment of self pity, it came to me. \n\n\nSharks. Fist fighting a shark. While naked. With one hand. I had the money, not many people have the colossal balls needed to fight a honey badger with a sharp stick. So I bought a little motorboat, and started taking up the hobby of fishing in shark infested waters.\n\n\nDo you have any idea how long it takes to wait for a shark attack to happen? Long enough that I had to shave several times and began to forget my mission. But I remembered. And when the shark circled my little boat, off came the trousers and t-shirt, off came the pants and socks, and ready I was for what was to be my final battle.\n\nThe shark I was about to face was a monstrous thing, 8 feet of muscle and brutality, driven mad by my incessant teasing of delicious meat and screaming of \"WHY WON'T YOU ATTACK ME I'M DELICIOUS!\" It lunged for me with a leap so majestic, so graceful, you could take a picture of it and win a Turner Prize if I mailed it to my British mates. But I wasn't here to talk about art. No. I was here to get that last level, I was here to make my life great for eternity, to make my tale one you would tell while cracking open a cold one with the lads!\n\n\nBut most importantly, I was there to make that number even after spending 4 months with it being one off 100. With a singular strike of applied force to the sharks jaw, I took it clean off along with the rest of the sharks head. Level 100 was mine, as proclaimed by the glorious xp counter, and I felt... content. Happy. None of the weak crap you feel when you get told a good joke, no no no. This was, is, something far better. It defies description except for the word \"Happiness\", no other emotion I felt in my life in my crappy office job was like it. I guess this was my reward.\n\nI am Clarence. Once I was some weak boi at a crappy desk wasting my life away. But that was me before I got that mission, that was me before I found my passion, what I loved to do and what I was born to do. And now I am Clarence, that madman who punched a sharks head clean off its neck, the madman who punched a kangaroo's lights out, the madman who slew hordes of birds come swooping season. I am immortal in what I have left behind for discussions over campfires and friendly get-togethers. \n\n" ]	1
	[WP] "She may not be normal but don't worry! She won't harm you. Please take care of her." These were the words of grandpas last letter.	[ "\"That's all?\" \n\n\"That's all,\" the attendant replied, scrawling his name on the chain-of-custody form. He passed it through the mail slot set into the base of the window. \n\n\"Sign there, Agent,\" the man commanded laconically, not even looking to see if he'd actually done so. Dozens of cases passed through this window every day, every day. Shields took the pen chained to the desk and signed anyways, slipping it back through.\n\n\"Where'd they find her?\" he asked, hefting the box he'd arrived with under one arm. The suit he'd been issued didn't quite fit, no matter how many stations he worked at or how many cases he'd been assigned, they always cut his jacket just a hair too narrow in the shoulders. \n\n\"Arzoy,\" the man behind the glass said without looking over from his computer.\n\n\"The hospital?\" Shields breathed, \"Arzoy? That old NKSS blacksite where they had-\"\n\n\"Yeah,\" the man interrupted, turning to stare daggers at Shields, \"That Arzoy. Do you need anything else, Agent Shields?\"\n\n\"I- no,\" the agent replied, clearing his throat, \"Thank you, I'll get moving.\"\n\n\"Elevator to the containment level's down the hall, on the left. Don't forget to wear the shock bracelet- I think Agent Park's still not got feeling in his fingers back.\"\n\nThe heels of Shields' shoes clacked crisply off the flooring as he walked, past pictures of case officers and their charges, intervention teams, doctors and researchers, nearly forty years of consecutive staff photos. Then came the cases, exotic artifacts and safe phenomena placed out for display. Shard of the True Cross read one, a rotten bit of wood suspended in resin.\n\nShields hit the button to call the elevator, absently drumming his fingers on the box. He looked at the note in his hand, the little scrap of paper covered in Cyrillic script and typewritten information nearly obliterated by water damage and time. It was laminated to protect it. At the very bottom, someone had hastily scrawled the only information they'd had when a Blackwatch officer had come out of the Arzoy People's Hospital raid with a toddler in his arms.\n\nShe may not be normal but don't worry! She won't harm you. Please take care of her.\n\nWhen the car stopped and the doors slid open, Shields was face to face with a Blackwatch trooper in full body armor, a submachine gun slung across his front. Behind him, two more officers were waiting, idly chatting about the last night's baseball game. One was looking up the score on his phone. Shields squeezed past them, stepping down the corridor lined with nondescript doors. If he wasn't three hundred feet below Washington DC, he might think he was in a simple apartment building. \n\nA quick check at the assignment he'd been given and he stopped at door 4502. A chunky black bracelet marked Ground - DO NOT REMOVE was hanging from a hook beside it, which Shields slid on. He knocked on the door, taking a slight step back.\n\nWith a quiet crash and almost silent footsteps, something crossed the room and cracked the door open. Inhuman eyes flicked up and down, then the door opened a bit further, and a smile tugged at the woman's face. \n\n\"You must be Agent Shields,\" she said excitedly, tucking her claws into the pocket of her hoodie, \"I heard I was getting a new case officer. Remember the brace-\"\n\nShields held his wrist up, showing off the device, \"And you must be Sparky. I read your file. A couple times- you said you wanted a day-night pass to the rec center upstairs, right?\"\n\n\"That's me- or what the agents call me,\" Sparky beamed, ears flattening against her head, \"I'd love to go running or swimming at night, but Doctor Bowyer was worried about senators or somebody seeing non-human residents in the lobby. They do tours of this building, did you know that?\"\n\nShields nodded, pulling the box from under his arm. A small card was pressed to the top of it.\n\n\"What's in it?\" Sparky asked excitedly, taking the box and sniffing along the edge of it. A long, sinuous tail slowly rose into Shields' line of sight, swaying back and forth with a lazy motion. It split into two about three-quarters of the way down its length, each tipped with a bulb that glowed with faint energy, pulsing in time with her heartbeat. \n\n\"Running shoes, and two day-night passes. One's yours, one's mine. I thought afterwards we'd get some pizza, talk about your case.\"\n\nHad he not been wearing the grounding bracelet, it was very likely the hug that suddenly pinned his arms to his sides would've knocked him cold.", "“Daniel, I think you’re the only one who can do this, I know you are in college right now and have other things in your head, but please do me this last favor, I can’t let the other members of the family know of her existence, especially your Uncle. When you see her, you might find that she is not normal and she might scare you... but don’t worry I promise that she won’t harm you. Please take care of her…”\n\nThis was the last letter grandpa sent me... and the first. I never was very acquainted with the man, nor any of my relatives for that matter. He lived secluded in the mountains ever since grandma died, turning my family away every time they came to visit him. Something I could actually relate to. I used to visit him and grandma though, with my cousins back when he was in town and I was a child. But I completely forgot about his existence when I entered college.\n\nStill, why did he sent me this package and this letter, I do not know; when I asked the guy who brought it over, he wouldn’t answer me, he didn’t look like a delivery guy either. The package in question was a locked wooden chest with some small holes in it, the key came with the sealed letter. I kneeled in front of the chest and started fighting against the lock. It was a very old lock, that’s probably the reason why it was so hard to open, nothing to do with me not doing any exercise these days.\n\n“I wonder what it is… some sort of treasure? Grandma's keepsake perhaps? no, from the way the letter is written, it shouldn't be an object...”\n\nEventually, the lock opens, I pull up the lid of the chest and look inside.\n\nA wooden doll the size of a child is in there, she reminded me of someone but I just couldn’t pinpoint who, it was kind of creepy but not enough to make me lose interest, I started to slowly pet her brown hair, it was soft and felt just like the real thing, I forced her eyes open and saw the details in them, her eyes were blue, like sapphires and I could see my bluish reflection on them. her clothes also looked very expensive; a white dress covered her body along with bluish leggings and small brown boots.\n\nLuckily I lived alone so no one could judge me for eyeing the doll; not like I had those kinds of thoughts in my head, I pulled her out of the box, and carried her to the nearest table, sitting her down.\n\n“Why would that old man send her? the letter said to take care of her but…”\n\nI start caressing her face.\n\n“Maybe my cousin would appreciate her more, then again it would be kind of awkward to show up out of nowhere, doll in hand… plus the letter said I shouldn't let uncle have her...why?”\n\nThe doll was very soft, she felt warm to the touch.\n\n“Or maybe since she looks so expensive… I could sell her to someone, surely there must be someone who collects these kinds of dolls, heck probably grandpa was one of those people”\n\nMy thump falls on her lips, I was so engrossed in my thoughts that I didn’t notice the wet feeling inside her mouth until it was too late.\n\n“What…?”\n\nHer eyes are open, and she’s looking directly at me, I could see my dumbfounded reflection on her blue eyes.\n\n“...You’re not father” is what I think she says, my thump was still in her mouth saliva was starting to drip from her lips, something that shouldn’t be possible, tears start to accumulate on her eyes and her face is starting to look angry, something that again shouldn’t be possible. \n\nWhere is all that liquid coming from…!? \n\n“Who, what, what are-“I start mumbling, I should have taken my thump out of her mouth because in the next second she bites down on it." ]	2
	[WP]You die and find out that the afterlife consists of sharing an apartment with a death partner. Pairings are arranged by a lottery system that can take a very long time. You walk into your flat and meet your new forever roommate — a famous historical figure who has been waiting for you for years.	[ "As I came to, I became aware that it was extremely bright. \"Good, you're awake.\" the voice said. Suddenly the light source that was half blinding me switched off with an audible click and the surgical style lamp swung out of my field of view revealing a remarkably average looking man in blue medical scrubs. Checking off his clipboard he remarked \"Everything seems to be in order, take a few minutes to collect yourself and I'll have an orderly come in and show you to your room.\" As he turned to leave I managed to stammer \"W-wait, where am I?\" He looked back over his shoulder and matter of factly said \"You're in Heaven.\"\nIt took me a few minutes to get my bearings, but after I managed to get myself out of bed, I immediately noticed my clothes, folded neatly on the dresser next to my bed. I checked my reflection in the mirror and everything seemed to be in it's right place. \"Heaven?\" I muttered to my myself quizzically. What did he mean? Moreover who was that doctor looking guy? I was feeling pretty confused about the whole thing and as I tried to remember back to my last memory I found that all I could muster was eating pulling out through a green light on old Highway 7, munching on some curly fries from Arby's at just a few minutes before 9 at night. That was it. \"Well that's it\" I said to myself, \"Time to get some answers.\" No sooner had I finished speaking than the door knob turned, and a rather large gentleman, this time in white scrubs emerged through the doorway. \"Hey how you feeling?\" the orderly said, extending a large arm with a hand aas big as a ham attached to it. \"Bill...\" he said as I attempted to shake his comically oversized appendage. \"No need to introduce yourself, I already know who you are. \"I'm sure you have a lot of questions, so ask away. It's not far to your room but I'll try and fill you in as best as I can.\" I followed Bill into the hallway still slightly dumbfounded. After a few dozen steps all I managed to come up with was \"So your a nurse, or a caretaker?\" I felt pretty stupid for that until he replied \"Of sorts I guess. But most of us prefer to be called angels.\" I stopped in my tracks. It all kind of hit me at that moment. This might not be a game. I might not be dreaming. Is it possible that I might actually be... dead? As if on cue, Bill chimed in, \"Yeah you're definitely dead. Sorry man. I've had to have this conversation a few hundred million times and it never gets any easier.\" \"How'd it happen?\" I managed to blurt out. \"You got T Boned by a drunk driver right there at the intersection of Grand and Rt 7 about six minutes ago\" A quick glance up at the wall clock revealed that it was 9:04. \"You're serious?\" I said. \"As a heart attack\" He replied. It was all kind of beginning to sink in when Bill stopped and turned to me. We're here he said, directing me to an otherwise nondescript door. \"Your roommate has been waiting for you for some time, I'm sure he can show you around the rest of the facility. After all he's been here for almost 70 years.\" My hand hesistated for a moment, and I went to look to Bill for any kind of reassurance, but impossibly he was gone as if he had never been there in the first place. I wondered if I was actually dead or maybe I was just going crazy, Maybe I was just in some kind of lucid dream or something. Well no matter what things couldn't get much weirder then Heaven being some kind of weird hospice scenario staffed by \"Angels\" name Bill. \"Fuck it\" I muttered and turned the handle. As I opened the door an almost magical smell hit me full force. It was the absolutely most aromatic scent of lit pipe tobacco, which upon peering into the room was hanging about face level in a surreal juxtaposition with the air in the lower half of the room. Two beds, each with their own night stands occupied opposite sides of the room. One side had several small shelves with a few books, a few bottles, two unmarked tins and what appeard to be a chessboard adroning them. The other bed had no shelves. In the center of the room, back turned and leaning over what appeared to be a small desk was an averaged hight man with short, mostly grey hair that appeared to be black at one time in his life. \"Da, good you are finally here\" The man turned to me, pipe in a majestically moustached mouth, two shot glasses filled with clear liquid. He extended his arm, offering me the drink and said in a very thick Russian accent \"It ees a pleesure to make your aqucaintence. My name is Yosef. Yosef Stalin.\"", "\"Next!\"\n\n...\n\n\"I SAID NEXT!\"\n\n\"Oh, sorry.\"\n\n\"Name and cause of death?\"\n\n\"Kenneth Danton, uhhhh...\"\n\n\"Cause of death?\"\n\n\"... I'm not really sure what you mean by that.\"\n\n\"Oh, so you're one of them, huh? Let me just pull out your file... ah, death by heart attack.\"\n\n\"Oh.\"\n\n\"Well, here's your address and your lottery ticket. Next time you're here, be more aware of things around you.\"\n\n\"Wait, what do you mean nex-\"\n\n\"NEXT!\"\n\nAnd now I was on a road, walking down a decent neighbourhood, with the normal bustle of city life drowning out the shock of the fact that yes, I was dead. Six feet under, resting in peace, sleeping eternally, whatever. If this was what the afterlife was, with free housing and whatnot, I'd be happy to live here forever. Well, if I could find out where I would be living at. Where the hell was 20 Solomon Avenue anyway?\n\n\"You look lost. Need a hand?\"\n\n\"Wait, I've seen your fac- uh, yeah, sure. Could you tell me where 20 Solomon Avenue is at?\"\n\n\"...oh. That kind of hand. Shame. Well, you're not far from it. Just go down the road until you see the block with the big white cross on it.\"\n\n\"Ah, I see. Thanks, Leopold!\"\n\nIt wasn't hard to miss the building, and given that it was the afterlife, it wasn't too shabby. Air-conditioned hallways, clean and carpeted floors, good lighting, and a cute receptionist with the best smile I've ever seen. Said her name was Miss Borden. Might ask her out sometime. \n\nAs I reached into my pocket for the keys to my new home, the clopping of hooves drummed in the distance. As the lock clicked with every turn of the key, the whinny of a horse echoed in the streets outside, and the clanking of steel against steel bounced up the stairs. And as I opened the door, I saw, within a golden frame, the portrait of the [man](https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_III_Sobieski) who was going to make my afterlife one hell of a time. \n\nAND THEN THE WINGED HUSSAR ARRIVED. ", "\"Ah,\" he said, standing from the low bed. The room lacked decoration or sparkle. A diorama of a cave stood at the end table, an unlit candle abandoned nearby. \"Yes, finally. I have been waiting for you.\"\n\nThe light outside the room was blinding. My eyes blurred with tears. \"What's this now?\"\n\n\"Oh, they haven't told you, then.\" Facing him, I was mostly impressed with his full beard, and the way his gaze bore into mine. \"You are...\" He seemed to be choosing his words carefully. \"You are my new student.\"\n\n\"I think you're mistaken. I've already graduated.\"\n\n\"Indeed, you have.\" He let out a low chuckle, and extended his hand. \"Around here, I'm known as Socrates.\"\n\n\"Socrates,\" I echoed, smiling. \"I guess you do look like what he would look like.\" He was wearing a long robe I had mistaken for a toga; the room looked like my narrow college dorm, so it had seemed fitting.\n\n\"Well, yes. I look like him because I am him.\" His gaze suddenly shifted off me to somewhere behind me, somewhere beyond. \"Or is it that I am him because I look like him...\"\n\nI let the silence fill the space between us, studying his face. Finally, he snapped his attention back at me. \"Right! Then. So. We have a lot of work to do.\"\n\n\"I studied Socrates a little in college,\" I mused. \"Sure is weird to have a dream like this.\"\n\n\"What is a dream? Shadows on a wall? The wall itself? Our brain trying to tell us something it can only communicate at night? Or is it the night itself?\" He took in a heavy breath, grabbed my shoulder. \"We have much to muse about, and all the time in the world to do it. Which is essentially no time at all.\"\n\n\"I really have no clue what you're getting at. Where are we, again?\"\n\nThe man named Socrates gave me a grim smile, then turned away. \"It is so good to hear another voice. And your questions fuel me as oil to a fire.\" He sat back on the bed, his hands folded in his lap. \"For every question you ask, I shall direct another rhetorical one back at you. It shall be great fun, the most I've had in years, I fear. Now then. Shall we begin?\"" ]	3
	[WP] After eight hours of labor, your wife lays an egg.	[ "Humpty Dumpty just stared at me and smirked and tapped some ash onto my night stand. My wife at least had the decency to look slightly embarassed and refused to meet my furious gaze. \n\n\"graveyard shift at the mill and this is the shit I come home to?\" \n\nHumpty Dumpty took a long draw on the cigarette, looked at me and blew the smoke in my direction. I snapped, and leapt at him. \n\nThe court said he was broken, the doctors couldn't put him back together again, so I was charged with 2nd degree Ovicide, at least eggsecution was off the table. ", "It was a most curious affair. Bordering on the bizarre even. At the time, as my wife lay on the doctor’s table, struggling to bring into being the life that we have created together, I was so fevered by the concept of conception that at the time I did not think to question the weirdness of the event. The doctor of course, being used to, and having experience in such affairs, instantly realized that something was not quite right. Instead of the fitful cries of the newborn, all that filled the room were the pained cries of my wife and the doctor’s repeated instructions. \n\nInstead of the head or other appendage that I, over the course of many months, have been instructed to be expected to see, I instead saw a white bulge that grew into an expanding oval. The doctor instructed my wife to push and push, and the oval grew and grew eventually it was peeking out of my uproarious wife’s uterus. Like the bald dome of a head, but fully white, and several times bigger, the thing eventually came out into the waiting hands of the bewildered physician. \nThe mother now asked to see the child and to hold it. Hesitant, the doctor relinquished possession of the newborn after carefully, but uncomfortably wrapping it in a bundle of cloth. As he handed it over, the mother had a good long look at her newborn. She smiled at the bundle, as a mother would smile towards any child, even if this particular child had one obscene deformity. I am sure at this point that she completely understood the implications of the situation. She knew had transpired and what will come to be. I approached towards my loving wife to stare into the face of our newborn child, but was met only with the white porous surface of what looked to be a baby sized egg. \n\nMy wife, my darling wife, smiled at me and asked if our baby was not the most beautiful and most precious thing that I ever did see. I said that it was a miracle and on that note the doctor agreed. In all his years of practice, he had never before seen or heard of such an occurrence. As my wife and apparently not yet born, or should I say hatched, child, rested peacefully in the hospital’s bed, the doctor pulled me aside and explained to me that this was probably the result of a receding gene in our history. Apparently, humans used to lay eggs in the early stages of our evolution, but eventually, we became viviparous species. I considered myself quite the learned man, so I questioned the doctor’s judgement for a while since I had never heard of any human ancestor who had been known to lay eggs, but then again, he was not an expert on the matter, and the fact remained that if it had happened here, it could have also happened in the past when the earth was still new and mother nature still hadn’t decided how things fitted together. This must have been a remnant of that long forgotten era. An echo of the mistakes that even God cannot avoid, or perhaps was it a gift from God to receive such a unique offspring. \n\nThe doctor then stepped back into the room and took out his stethoscope. He put it on the top of the egg, on it’s side, on the bottom. When he was done he relinquished the egg back towards the eager arms of my gracious and angelic wife. He then gave his verdict, inside the egg there was indeed a life growing beneath its shell. Now if the life was human, animal or some other creature the doctor could not guarantee, but the heartbeat was on the same cadence as that of a newborn, and if we could both guarantee its providence, then there should be no question of its heritage. Apparently that was all my wife needed to know to confirm her emotion towards the object. I am sure that if the doctor had found no life gestating inside, that she would have immediately denied it, and upon further inspection a heartbeat that was previously unheard now resounded within the hollow chamber. \n\nAs for me however, the reality of the event was creeping on me like twilight in the winter. I focused on my wife’s beautiful smile. It was a smile that could have stopped wars. I grabbed onto it. Hoping that I could absorb even a smidgen of her confidence to counteract my own impeding feeling of helplessness. My adored wife must have realized my dismay for she beckoned my closer to her bedside and asked if I would like to hold our child. I did no answer, but instead gingerly took up the object. It felt warm in my hands. It felt filled with life and promise. \n\nI could see now why my wife could put on such a strong face in the face of such a despairing situation. The fact that the child was in this form did not matter. What mattered was that the child come out safe and healthy and arrived in arms and hands that welcomed and cherished him. From that point, I did not care as to why the child decided to encase himself in a shell of white, but rather I understood that my work as an expecting parent was not yet done, and I must do everything within my power to ensure that I continue to be as supportive as possible towards our not yet born child. \nAfter I returned the child to my wife and returned her a dutiful and earnest smile, I realized that we had gathered quite a lot of attention from the other people present in the delivery wing of the hospital. Physicians, nurses, patients and other parents whose child had been born in the regular fashion all struggled to get a glimpse of the egg-child, but thankfully, between the aura that my dearest wife gave out, and the stern stare of our attending physician none dared cross the threshold leading into the room. Being a man of considerable influence myself, I equally made it as clear as I could without actually uttering a word, that walking into the room with the sole reason being to leer at our child would be unforgivable. \n\nEventually the crowds parted, and the doctors set to work to determine the best course of action. After a few more tests to assure the safety and health of the mother and child, the doctors gave us suggestions to assure a safe birth. Experts in oviposition, evolutionary theorists, pharmacologists, anthropologists, biologists, and even a botanist who was promptly kicked out for asking if the shell was plant based. Together they determined the correct procedure to potentially hatch the egg. All were curious as to what they would find inside and I would be lying if I did not admit my own eagerness to see what form my child would take as it abandoned its shell. Thankfully, a few weeks later, the child was hatched without any major problems, a beautiful and healthy baby boy which we named Fredrick, like my great-uncle. The child grew up healthy and strong, with a love for the outdoors and a passion for calligraphy. Me and my wife had two more children after our first, but none shared Fredrick’s circumstances.", "I looked at the bloody oval, glistening with mucus and amniotic fluid for a moment of disbelief, before turning my eyes towards my wife. Her blonde hair was sticky and dark with sweat. \n\"Honey, I think you misunderstood when I said finding the perfect sperm donor was a wild goose chase.\"" ]	3
	[WP] You sit and wait for the sunrise. This time, it never comes.	[ "\"Ugh\" I moaned to the grass, \"how long have I been out?\" It felt like forever since I saw the bright light erupt from the horizon, but it'd only been a few hours according to my phone. I was till kinda tired though, it was only 5:23am, I won't miss it if I have another kip surely?\n\n\"Ughh, not again.\" 17 hours sleep. New record. 12:38am. Who said hypersomnia didn't have an upside? Thank god I put the \"roof\" over the hammock, the rain would have froze me. I checked my bag, still dry, still got my snacks, still got my shrooms, still got my speaker. Pop open a packet of Lay's, to mask the taste of that spiritual stuff, and thank God for James Booker and Bluetooth connections. I could really hear his pain through the music, as well as the nights sky turning into a baby's animal mobile. \"It's OK, the sun will come up soon.\"\n\n\"..mm. that's just the moon...\" I half-think.\n\n\"Ugh.\" 1:56am. Two days later. Maybe this is getting out of hand. \"Still, maybe it's a spiritual thing, the enlightenment I'll get when the light licks the Earth.\" I pondered \"probably worth it.\"\n\n\"....nah, that's the moon again...\"\n\n\".....i am super sure that's the moon...\"\n\n\"..what time is it?\"\n\n\"...screw it I'll see sunrise when I wake up, but this hammock's really warm and I can hear the early birds, perfect time to get some shut eye..\"", "The dew on the grass told Albert that morning was about to arrive. His eyes opened as slow as a flower blooming for the first time only to see total darkness. The sky was black, dotted only by the sparks of the stars. \n\nHe lay there for a moment, careful not to fall into the number of crevices scattered around the hillside. He turned to his side and looked in to one. It was as if he were caught between a black hole and its mirror image. Except the one below had no twinkling. In it he saw only darkness and peace.\n\nA part of him wanted to keep rolling straight into the abyss. However, he relented. It doesn’t matter, Albert thought. For the two days that he had stayed on this hill, the ground shook more and more, creating cracks and dividing the lands. If even an ounce of will to live existed in his body, he could’ve tried to scale the walls or jump the gaps. If. \n\nI’ll fall in eventually, Albert thought. It’s only a matter of time. I just have to see one last thing. \n\nTurning his attention back to the sky, dread grew within him. The sky was dark. Not a hint of blue tinged the horizon. It had been this way for two days. He closed his eyes then and suppressed the fear in his mind by focusing on his breaths. In and out. \n\nHe tried to clear his mind, but, each breath of fresh air brought only pain to his memories. \n\nHe remembered when the Earth started to shake. He was in his room, where he had been for most of the 18 years of his life. Right at that moment, he recalled looking outside the window and imagining what it would be like to run outside. Ride a bike. Drive a car. Fall in love. Live his life. \n\nJust when his reverie reached a fever pitch, their house shook like it was a baby wailing for food. Then followed the loud crash. Albert ran as fast as he could towards the sound and found his mother laying under what was their roof. \n\n“No!” \n\nAlbert tried to push off the debris, but it wouldn’t budge. Blood sputtered out of his mother’s mouth as she motioned him closer. \n\n“Son,” she said between coughs and wheezing. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry to have kept you so long. I just couldn’t lose you to the world. Not like your father.” \n\n“Ma, save your strength. I’ll go get help.” \n\n“No,” she said. “There’s no time for that. Just listen to me. You go out there and live your life now, okay? Don’t hold back. Just take care of yourself please. And one more thing?”\n\nTears were streaming down Albert’s cheeks, blurring his vision from all the blood on his mother’s face. \n\n“Watch the sunrise one last time. For me. And for your father. We loved that and we loved you.”\n\nHer gaze looked out into the distance, as if a sweet far away memory was playing right in front of her eyes. She died moments later with a smile on her face. \n\nIt had been three days since then and Albert had not fulfilled his mother’s last wish.\n\nBack on the hill, the ground shook again and the lands moved. Albert could feel the cracks forming under him. Despite it all, he kept his eyes closed, the tears flowing.\n\nHands balled into fists, he slammed on the ground. Another quake followed.\n\n“It’s not fair!” Albert was shouting, half into the abyss of the world, and half into the part of himself that held the most regret. “I didn’t get to live at all. It’s all your fault ma! I hate you! Here I am trying to fulfil your stupid last wish, when none of my wishes had come true. And this stupid sun won’t even come out. Why won’t it come out?! Why is this happening to me? Why?”\n\nThroughout his rage, the Earth raged seemed to rage with him, it’s lands breaking apart at the seams. \n\n“Why?” Albert said, his last word a whisper as his whole being gave way to his sorrow. \n\nOne by one, the lands pulled away. He could feel the cracks getting bigger under where he sat. Holes began to form and kept growing. \n\nThis is it, Albert thought. Here goes another life, snuffed about before it had ever been lived.\n\nIn his last moments, Albert stopped his tears and quieted his body. He concentrated on his breathing, feeling the air enter and escape his lungs. Images came to him again with every breath. \n\nOf the Nissan Skyline he would never get to drive. Of Amsterdam and the weed he would never get to smoke. Of the silver haired lady that walked by his house every day and how he would never get to talk to her, smell her perfume, hold her hand, kiss those lips. Finally, he thought of the elusive sunset and his parents, sitting at the same spot he was and looking up as the night gave way to a new day.\n\nAll these images did nothing to affect him. Each image that came was pushed aside with every breath, like the sea breeze blowing the tides to and away from the shore. \n\nInside him there was no regret. No sense of loss or waste. There was only nothing. \n\nAs the ground under him gave way to a new darkness Albert fell, content with where he was and greeting the darkness with what he chose: a smile on his face. " ]	2
	[WP] To cast a spell, you must sacrifice a memory of equal value. You never cared about losing a memory or two for a spell. But one day, you fall in love.	[ "The wind made it hard to hear. It was blowing hard enough that my long gray hair was sweeping over my face. I raced my hand around my vest pocket, scrambling to find a clip. Got it. In one swoop, I caught enough hair and clipped it to hair further back on my head. I had no time to waste.\n\nI was at the edge of the cliff, in front of the frail, wooden bridge, three people wide, and maybe a mile in length to the other side. It had thick ropes for banisters, and the architect was wise to make some ties from the base of the bridge, to hooks on the cliff. It was shaky, and waving in the wind, but it would hold. I hope it will hold.\n\nShlomie, that gypsy bastard, stole Lana right from my arms. I didn't know her long, but I knew her long enough to know that I love her. An amazon of a woman. Tall, slender, with muscular arms, a muscular back, and the legs of an Olympian marathon runner. She held a huge bow that was bigger than me with the poise of a squirrel on a tree branch.\n\nShe didn't yell, she was stunned, maybe he hit her, maybe he drugged her. I could see them shuffling carefully along the bridge. His black cape making him look like a black stone moving away in the distance. Her limbs were sticking out, and I could at least see he still held her.\n\n\"LANA!\" I cried out. The wind whipped so loud that I could barely hear myself. A yell is a whisper, a whisper is silence.\n\nI stepped onto the bridge while holding the banister. This would be difficult. The wind was whipping it to one side making it tilt. The rate would be slow. Any mistake meant I would fall into the abyss. I just had to go. Step, by step, being as careful with the next step as I was with the first step. My cloak blew over me, it blinded me from looking around. It didn't matter as long as I saw my feet. The only thing that mattered now was making the quickest pace without falling.\n\nLana had saved me. Watch your step old man, I thought as I stumbled. I was in the square. It was a festival. I was to be hanged in front of the crowd. Disloyalty, dark magic, devil worshiping, the usual nonsense. Quit your thinking, I said as my foot slipped off the rope and I caught myself on the banister rope. The lord wanted me dead. Ages long feud, this was just the latest incarnation. This time he had me. He kept me confined in solitary for 10 years. There are few memories a man can acquire when surrounded by 4 walls of stone, some straw, and some rats. The moonlight being the most memorable of all. He found a way to destroy my magic. He destroyed my memory. Mind your pace you old fool. If you are ever to catch her. I stopped for a moment and gripped the banister. I slung my arm over and gripped it with my armpit. I used my free hand to pull up my cloak. The black stone was still moving, I am catching pace. I can see her garments clearly now, she is still limp. I must keep my pace.\n\nLana had observed at the festival. The lord was present and gloating over his victory. This was the climax he had waited 10 years for. He ensured it would be a pageant.\n\n\"The devil spawn, that has terrorized these lands for eons, is finally caught!\" The maestro announced. The crowd was in a fervor. Flowers were tossed the maestro's way.\n\n\"Toss it not to me. Toss it to our Lord. Who faithfully pursued the monster from every corner of the land, for every day of its existence.\" The crowd chanted his name. \"Unsheathe the monster!\" They unwrapped my hood but my head had no strength to look at anything but the wooden planks beneath me. The crowd gasped but I could not hear it, my ears were plugged, and the sound came in muffled. The Lord grinned mightily. I could feel his grin basking over me. Is this enough? Do I have enough for a spell? I didn't feel it.\n\nLana was in the crowd. She recited the story to me later at a tavern over a drink. \n\nI had known about you for some time. I knew the rumors were not true. My father likewise chose to play neutral. Her father is the King. He pitied you, but he had no intention of rousing the Lord. I, the known warrior princess, Lordess of her own lands, a legend, and known to all, had little to maneuver here. I could not command him, I had no political power or sway over his people to make any effort, neither did the King allow me. So I thought of something clever. Knowing your prowess. At least what was rumored. The memory mage who converts his thoughts into magic. I bribed a village fellow to accuse the magistrate of having the wrong man. It is to be insisted that they must show the prisoner to the Lord.\n\n\"My Lord! How are we to know the prisoner is who he is? He arrived hooded, and even now his face is unseen!\" The crowd gasped into murmurs.\n\nThe Lord scowled. \n\nThe Maestro scrambled for an answer. \"We know it. Silence you gold bagging fool.\" The crowd groaned.\n\nThe Lord held up his hand knowing such public admonishment towards the villagers could only yield poor results. \"I've seen him\", the Lord proclaimed. The crowd grew silent.\n\nI egged on the villager, promising him more coin. He spoke in my words, \"forgive me my Lord. Your word is unchallenged. But I couldn't help but notice you were here at the festival the entire day, while the prisoner was carted in from outside of the walls. I am sure your Lordship would be most interested to make sure you have the right monster, and not an innocent.\" The Lord rose up out of his chair, the crowd watched the villager who started to shake. I put my hand up discreetly on the back of his shoulder to still him. He was startled.\n\n\"Who is behind you?\" The Lord hissed.\n\nI had not been hiding. I only kept my head behind the man's like the Moon behind the Earth when the Sun was away. I moved my head over a few inches to reveal myself. The Lord grinned.\n\n\"Princess Lana. How I should have known you would be more interested in meddling than in partaking in the day's festivities.\"\n\n\"Of course my Lord. The integrity of justice is of concern to all. I share in this man's concern for his fellows. I think it prudent to know the man's identity.\" I was smiling, and knelt in his honor. \n\nThe Lord grinned. \"I've seen him. That is enough.\" The executioner stepped forward. The crowd started to murmur. \"Who is he?\" They asked. \"Who is he?\" They chanted. The Lord was scowling as he stood facing the crowd. \n\nThe maestro shushed the crowd, and the Lord spoke, \"I have no interest in glorifying monsters. I can have only one verify his identity. We all know him. We have all seen him.\" \n\nThe Lord had his pointed finger waving through the crowd until he settled on one. An young maid. \"You.\"\n\n\"Me?\" She peeped like a mouse. \n\n\"Yes, step up, and you will verify the claim.\"\n\nThe young girl grew flush, but the crowd egged her on and she stepped forward with their pushes. I turned to the mother and took long steps forward in a haste. \"Surely you won't put your youngest into the path of such danger. It should be me, the warrior princess to see him.\" The old mother was nervous, and she had lived long enough not to fear.\n\n\"My Lord, my youngest is ill suited. She is dumb, and can't clearly see a cow's teat from a bull's dick.\" The crowd started to laugh as the old lady bowed excessively. \"This monster is dangerous. It should be the warrior princess to see him!\" The crowd cheered in agreement. The Lord's scowl grew more pronounced. The maestro was hurriedly looking back and forth from the Lord to the crowd, from the crowd the Lord. \n\nThe Lord threw his head back and let out a sigh. He put it back down. He walked over to the executioner and whispered something into his ear. He turned to the crowd and unfurled his cloak so it made a flutter like a dancing bird. \"Fine. The princess can see.\" He let out a smile as he called for me. I stepped up.\n\nWhen I saw you my heart near exploded. I had remembered you from when you were young. You had aged so much in 10 years. You should have been a man, but instead you were turned into the elderly. I burst into tears, and you didn't even have the strength to open your eyes upwards towards me. Lana was crying as she told this part of the story. It was true that I didn't have the strength to look up. \n\n\"That's it,\" the Lord said. \n\n\"I have not seen him,\" I responded.\n\nThe Lord nodded.\n\nThe maestro put his hand under your chin, he started to lift up your head. I noticed the Executioner lift up his axe. I gasped but was unsure about what to do. I knew his trick, he would end it before you had the chance, as soon as I said so. Well, when you lifted your head I need not make a decision. As soon as our eyes met your face grew red, your gray hair turned brown, flesh filled your bones, and an explosion of force came from your body. The maestro was thrown so far he broke his collar bone. The executioner fell nearer with the axe in his head. The Lord was thrown over his throne. But I was untouched and unmoved if counting my body, for my heart was stolen that moment by you.\n\nIt is true. The vision of her, and her beauty, the memories of her before my incarceration, came back to me in a thunder. She had to tell me again because once the memory is used for a spell it is gone.\n\nShmolie took her as punishment by the Lord. No doubt he is staging a coup against the King. But I have no time for that. I must get the princess. \n\nEnd Part 1/2", "A man in a blue and beige sweater vest sat, on the patio of a quiet cafe early in the evening. His short black hair peeking from behind a newspaper ruffling slightly in a light breeze that carried the sound of a busy intersection from a few blocks away. The cafe light behind him illuminating the paper as the sky grew darker with the setting sun. \n\"You the guy?\" asked a young voice. \nThe man lowered the paper a little to see a young man in his mid twenties, wearing a black hoodie and a baseball cap. \n\"I don't know what you're talking about kid, beat it.\" The man replied raising the paper back up. \n\"Oh right, uhh, 'It's a lovely night, can't wait for the sunrise'...\" The young man blurted out nervously looking around. \n\"Yeah, I'm the guy.\" the man said without lowering his paper. \"Did you bring my money?\" \n\"I did.\" the young man announced before reaching into the pocket of his hoodie. \n\"Well have a seat then, no need attracting any more attention than you did acting and looking as suspicious as you are.\" The man insisted as he folded the paper up and set it down on the table. \n\"I'm Francis, but everyone just calls...\" The young man started. \n\"I don't care, kid...\" the man cut him off. \"Give me the envelope.\" \nFrancis pulled an envelope out of his pocket and slid it across the table. \n\"Look kid, I don't know who you plan to cast this spell on, but it's dangerous. It's the kind of spell that if you get caught with it, there's no turning back. Not only do you have the legal shit to deal with, you'll have the social stigma.\" The man threatened, staring intensely at Francis. \"If you cast this spell, there's no turning back without escalating to murder.\" \n\"I... I don't intend to hurt anyone with it, if that's what you're worried about.\" Frances answered timidly, trying to avoid eye contact. \"But what do you care?\" Francis added in an aggressive tone. \"If you didn't want anyone to use these kinds of spells you wouldn't be selling them!\" \n\"If I don't do it, someone else will. The difference is, they probably won't try to talk you out of making a mistake you can never live down.\" the man admitted flatly. \n\"A smuggler with a heart of gold, huh?\" Francis scoffed. \n\"I may have flexible morals, but I'm not a vulture.\" the man chuckled indignantly. \"Well, since we're sharing, who's the lucky girl? Some cutie who doesn't even know you exist? Or are you just lonely and willing to cast it on anyone?\" \n\"It's not like that.\" Francis declared fiercely. \"It's... You wouldn't understand.\" \n\"Kid, I get dozens of losers like you asking for a spell like this because they sure as hell can't rely on their personality. I understand just fine.\" the man mocked. \n\"It's not for a girl... Or a guy or anything like that.\" Francis countered reluctantly. \n\"Oh, so you're not some loser who can't get a date? You're different somehow?\" The man dismissed as he stood up grabbing the envelope and angrily pushed the newspaper towards Francis. \"Spell is in the paper, between page four and five. Have a good life kid.\" \n\"The spell's for me...\" Frances admitted before the man could leave. Holding up his left hand, he fondling a wedding ring. \"I'm going to cast it on myself because... I don't remember when we fell in love.\"" ]	2
	[WP] "I don't hate you. I just hate every single thing you do."	[ "#####None So Blind\n\nEvelyn pressed the paper bag up against her stomach for the entirety of the train ride home. Pristine, glossy white with long, lavender ribbon handles, hanging the bag from her hands risked it touching the train floor. Beneath the swathes of crisp tissue, a fluttery red peeked and blushed up at her. Carmine, the salesgirl had called it. Not at all rash or racy. Rich. Some days you just had to treat yourself.\n\nKeys pressed sharply cold against her fingers in the heat of the late afternoon. Her arms laden with uncommon weight, Evelyn clenched and fumbled at her front door. Inside the muted shelter of her studio apartment, she dropped the paper bag on the kitchen counter beside a white porcelain mug stained brown with the dried remnants of instant coffee. The layers upon layers of tissue were shed in a meandering trail across the cramped living space.\n\nA tall cheval mirror stood slightly tilted in the far corner of the room. Evelyn draped the dress over the length of the mirror until all she could see was red. It was early yet, but she needed to take a shower, blow her hair out, dig out her good heels, and put on a little more than the eyeliner and concealer that was her daily coverage. Maybe a touch of perfume too, on her neck, or in the cleavage revealed by the ‘V’ of her new dress. Oh, and shave her legs and armpits too. There was a razor somewhere in the bathroom wasn’t there? She couldn’t recall the last occasion she’d left her apartment without long pants and tops with sleeves.\n\nThe text from Shivaughn with all the details had come at about two. El Taza on 4th. Reservation for four. Under Adam. A quick search confirmed it was tapas. Now she wished she’d gone for that run this morning. But at least she’d skipped breakfast. And her lunch of break room coffee, a banana walnut muffin, and some of the brownies that Siraj had brought in couldn’t have been that bad. \n\nA missed call notification showed in the top left corner of her phone. Evelyn didn’t have to check to know who it was. The calls came daily. On average, she spoke to her mother at least twice a week. Only yesterday, on her way to get Thai takeout, she’d listened to her mother’s stories about the disruptive family that had moved in on the corner, and also about the lazy, uppity receptionist at her work. She'd done her duty for the time being.\n\nSunlight spilled into her apartment from the largest window set in the north wall. An armchair sat there framed by the glass and thin, white curtains dotted with tiny lilies. She’d meant the chair for reading or crafting. Some kind of doing. In any event, used or not, it made quite the picture. Evelyn took a seat. The odour of stale dust swelled up to fill her nose. The worn, floral fabric of the arms scratched under her nails. Over half a year ago, she’d bought the chair at a yard sale two blocks over with the intention of taking it apart and covering it with a brand new skin. Maybe next weekend she’d have some time.\n \nThe window overlooked the street. Two kids on bikes rode by. A man walked along the sidewalk, his strides quick but not hurried. His light wool suit fit well to his tall, trim body and his briefcase had the weight and sheen of real leather. Home to his lover after dedicating a day to his profession it looked like.\n\nEvelyn thumbed the screen and brought the phone to her ear.\n\n“No, mom. Nothing’s happened.” Rising from the chair, she wandered in to the kitchen.\n\n“I know how to feed myself.” There it was, hidden behind the unopened bag of flour. \n\nBare feet dragged on the faded Turkish style carpet. Another scavenged find. A crinkle of plastic and aluminum accompanied her return and yielding sink into the chair cushion. “It’s fine, mom. I’m cooking more and exercising. A little snack won’t hurt.”\n\n“Actually, I’m going out for tapas with Shivaughn and some new friends.”\n\n“Nothing’s going to happen. Shivaughn knows them, and her boyfriend will-“\n\n“I have a new dress. I think you’d like the a-line cut of it.” \n\n“Yes, of course I should save up. I’m trying. Hey, mom, I was wondering, why did I never have a bike as a kid?”\n\n“Right. Sorry. I’m just tired.”\n\nHer finger slid across the smooth, flat, screen. One last thing to do before she set it down.\n\nNot feeling well. Shouldn’t have tried my co-worker’s questionable cooking. Rain check?\n \nThe phone dropped muted upon her lap, screen blankly black. \n\nThe shadows lengthened across the street empty. She was careful not to look away even though rich red blocked any chance of seeing.\n\n---\nI've always loved James Joyce's Eveline. This prompt reminded me of that.\n", "The words whipped me across the face, and I stared at her. She gazed through me, as if I was hardly a person. It was almost enough to cause me to shudder, but I gazed back.\n\nShe wouldn&#39;t leave. I knew she wouldn&#39;t. She had to prove she was stronger, always in control.\n\nI closed my eyes and for a moment it was if she wasn&#39;t even there: the sound of heavy breathing through nostrils, and the heartbeat in my ears.\n\n&quot;I&#39;m sorry I can&#39;t be better…&quot; I said wearily, eyes still closed. Too chicken-shit to look her in the eyes.\n\n&quot;I don&#39;t accept excuses. I love you because I have to,&quot; She spat. &quot;not because I want to. Hating you would just be a waste of energy.&quot;\n\nEyes, still closed, I reached out a hand to touch her arm…she felt as cold as her words. _But she did said she loved me._ My mind hugged the words like an infant.\n\nI withdrew my hand before she could invariably slap it away.\n\n&quot;Get to work, and make some use of yourself. At least the money you bring back can&#39;t disappoint me.&quot;\n\nI turned away, not wanting to look at her again, finally letting my eyes open. I pulled my unfolded suit jacket from atop a growing hill of laundry, scrounged for a belt (faded and cracked black leather. A birthday gift from her years ago…), and left the apartment, locking the door behind me.\n\n~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~\n\nI could hear her in my mind as I walked up to the office.\n\n_Don&#39;t look at that slut Samantha! Don&#39;t you even fucking think about her!_ Her imagined cursing made me flinch.\n\n&quot;Good morning Alex. Patrick sent the revenue report to your inbox. He said he wanted to meet with you after you reviewed them.&quot;\n\nI nodded, chin tucked into my chest, trying to look as small as possible as I passed Samantha at the front desk.\n\nI felt a little safer at my desk. My fake plant Charlie smiled back at me. I like to think he smiled back. Charlie was a good plant, as fake plants go. A couple people even thought he was real! Or maybe they were just humoring me…\n\nI sighed, shoulders falling and sunk further into my cheap chair.\n\nI reached out to the mouse, flickering the computer screen to life, and began to review the revenue reports. Standard fare, good quarter, positive stock options, par for my course. I wonder what Patrick would want to say to me.\n\nI almost began to fantasize, would he invite me back to a private room to go over the reports? Would he say that I&#39;ve done well? Would he mean it when he shook my hand? Would his hand linger?\n\nI hope that I wouldn&#39;t appear crazy. I&#39;ve been trying so hard to make friends and…more…but every time I tried, her voice would flash across my mind again. It was nauseating the power she had over me:\n\n_People only want you because you&#39;re useful. You&#39;re sick to look at, and you&#39;re lucky I get horny enough to let you into my bed at night, because that&#39;s the most you are worth in that room. Try to get close to someone else and you&#39;ll see what I mean. They&#39;ll hate everything about you even faster than I do. Why not just keep your eyes down and do your damn—_\n\nA cry from a couple cubicles over shook the voice off me. A woman screamed, and everything was silent for a long moment save for the beeping of faxes and a burble of phone noises.\n\nThen the shaking started.\n\n&quot;Earthquake!&quot; Someone shouted behind me, and panic flew around the room like a trapped crow.\n\nWith a strange sense of action, I jumped up from my desk and looked for the nearest emergency guideline manual. There was one nailed to the wall in a hanging plastic basket. The people around me were shouting and just trying to keep their feet as I rushed past them, snatching the booklet and flipping to the earthquake guidelines, scanning over the easy-to read pictures and ignoring the imbecilically designed blocks of tiny text.\n\nI looked up to see a hoard of people gathered around the elevators, frantically smashing the buttons, needing to be the first ones inside. _Cattle._ I thought.\n\n&quot;Forget the elevators! West Stairwell! West Stairs! By the Fax machine!&quot; My voice sounded shrill and foreign as I cried out towards the mass huddled near the elevators.\n\nIt was missed by most, but those that heard it snapped their necks to the stairs, pointing and starting out a cry and a push towards that direction. I shot back towards my desk, snatched up Charlie, and sprinted for the stairs, leaving the rest behind to sort out themselves.\n\n~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~\n\nAn hour later I was back in front of my house. Knowing they couldn&#39;t calm a panicked group of people as effectively as they hoped, management sent everyone home, with instructions to check their work email hourly.\n\nWith my hand on the doorknob, would she be mad at me for being back so early? I hesitated…\n\nThen, remembering the lock, I pulled out my keys, unlocked the door, and with a deep breath swung it open.\n\nI listened, but didn&#39;t immediately hear her.\n\n&quot;Hello?&quot; A familiar voice.\n\nI sheepishly walked into the back room.\n\nThere she was. She was lying facedown on the floor.\n\nI rushed over, picking her up and propping her against the wall. She stared back at me, but her face was broken. Silver shards shook loose as I righted her, looking for the nail where she was hung.\n\n_Such bad luck…_ we said.", "\"It's weird, no?\nEverything you do irks me, the way you talk, your misanthropic behavior, the fact that you don't even take care of yourself.\n\nI hate your habit of replacing your glasses on your nose like this guy in One Piece just because you think it's cool.\n\nI hate the fact that you procrastinate a lot. Always tomorrow, be it homework, or simply chores. You look like a hobo with that beard you shave only monthly.\n\nI hate your smile, you smile everytime you talk to someone, but it's a false one. Your eyes never smile, and your mouth either where you think there is noone around you.\n\nI hate this two-faced personality you have: joyful and friendly with people, depressed and angry with yourself.\n\nI hate your \"no stress\" motto with your if you can do something, do it and don't stress, if you can't do something, what is the point of the stress?\n\nI hate that you keep all what anger you inside, and never talk about what you don't like.\n\nAnd yet... despite all that, I don't hate you. I could never hate you.\n\n...... but why don't you try to make me love you?\"\n\nAfter this rant, I washed my hand in the sink, cleaned the mirror a bit and left the bathroom, then I prepared my bag to go to school. Luckily, the university is not that far away, I was lucky to find this apartment where I live alone." ]	3
	[WP] Your life has been destroyed by the same man, over and over again. But now you've discovered a way to send a letter to the past. Forge a letter to HIS younger self and convince him that it's from his future self.	[ "I wrote. Hour after hour, day after day, week after week, month after month. Soon, it became years and I had amassed a sizeable trove of letters, each one labelled with a small number in the upper right hand corner, each one addressed to the same individual. Accompanying each letter came a note to myself, which at first began as simply and succinctly as could be written on a Post-It, and later on eclipsing the contents of the letter itself, so that each letter ever written was followed by a response I wrote to myself.\n\nWhen it came time to mail the letter, I fixed a stamp to the envelope and slipped the letter into the Einstein-MacGuffin device I had received from my long-ago ex's now-dead grandmother as an engagement gift. She thought it was a nice wood box for silverware. It wasn't. It was a time machine. I didn't wholly understand how or why it worked, only that at some point when I started dating my ex, he used to brag how he hid his weed in the box only to discover a mysterious letter. When he showed me the letter, I knew I had secretly written it based on a number of small clues, but when? How strange to see something obviously from one's own hand but to never recall having created it. Now, in the future, I know for certain that I wrote it, and why I wrote it.\n\nBut here's the dilemma. There's a whole lot about myself I like. Just nothing about my ex. If I never dated him at all, I wouldn't be here. If I never got engaged, I'd never be in possession of this box. If I don't have the box, I couldn't be here writing the letter. That's what's called a paradox. And, apparently, the universe has a really nifty way of handling paradoxes - there are just certain things you can't change, no matter how hard you try. Sure, I can send the letter back in time, and he'll read it, and then he'll eventually show it to me, but when I tried to give myself explicit instruction to break up with him, I either ignored it, or somehow convinced myself not to, or, I don't know, my memory of the circumstances is getting fuzzy.\n\nAfter I put the letter in the box, I turned down the lights in the office, reclined in a chair, and meditated to recall the memory of first being shown the letter. And here I had to keep it straight, because while me at that time was only aware of one letter, me in the present was aware of the thousands of attempts I had so far made. Hence, the numbering system. I tried to recall first laying eyes on letter number three thousand four hundred fourteen.\n\nWe had just finished a post-high school romp in his bedroom, sheets reeking of unwashed jockstraps, flaked with dandruff, and just generally disgusting all around. For myself, it was that awkward sex of me trying to stop him from fumbling, trying to find the least revolting position, trying not to wince at his garlic breath, and aggressively worrying about all the things I shouldn't have been worrying about, such as dresses and weddings and romantic adventures, and not worrying at all about the things I should have been concerned with, such as the STD he was about to give me, the false-positive on the pregnancy test, the complete lack of responsibility and foresight in not having any contraceptives on hand and yet plowing ahead, literally, anyway. \n\nAfterwards, while I busied myself with cleaning up - which, by the way, why don't the movies ever make mention of how messy sex can be? - he busied himself with getting blazed. Or, at least he tried. And that's when it happened.\n\n\"Where's my weed?\" he shouted as though a felony had been committed. Considering he had a younger brother, one likely suspect was already named. \"I'm going to kill him.\" Then, he pulled up an envelope. \"What's this? He left me an IOU, all official like?\"\n\nHe opened the envelope, took out the letter, and made an odd face. \"Ok, this is strange,\" he told me. \"You gotta check this out.\"\n\n\"Dear ....,\" he began, and, strangely, it was a bit weird as I tried to recall that his name was becoming more of an opaque reference as though I couldn't recall it any more.\n\n\"I need you to focus,\" he continued. \"I need your full attention. You have a lump on your left test - \" he trailed off and touched his crotch.\n\n\"What does it say?\" I asked.\n\n\"Just a sec,\" he snapped. \"Don't get all bitchy on me.\"\n\n\"Don't call me a bitch,\" I snapped back.\n\nHe went back too reading the letter, making various expressions ranging from bemused to horrified.\n\n\"I don't know what this is,\" he said after he finished. \n\n\"May I?\" I asked and extended my hand.\n\nHe didn't seem want to share the letter, but then relented.\n\nI took it and immediately noticed the following: Another girl wrote it, that was for sure, I could tell by the handwriting and the stationary. What guy uses that kind of stationary? I started to skim it, but it's direct and compact text made that difficult, so I started over.\n\nDear ..., I need you to focus. I need your full attention. You have a lump on your left testicle. It's malignant. If you don't get it treated by your twenty third birthday it will need to be removed. Do I have your attention yet? The black mark on your right butt cheek is from your brother, and you got chlamydia from Yolanda.\n\nI looked up. \"You and Yolanda?\" I didn't wait for him to respond and kept reading.\n\nThe letter continued: Have I got your attention yet? Good. I am you in ten years.\n\nEven then I knew that to be false. The stationary wasn't right, the lettering wasn't right, and there was something else about how the letters were written that seemed too familiar, too personal to me, than anything related to him. But, he didn't seem to react.\n\nContinued: We have a problem, you and I. When you are in college playing football as a senior, you will be sacked by a player from Dartmouth. Your knee will be broken, and you're football career will end. If, on the other hand, you attend Dartmouth, this will never happen, and you'll also, or should be, named MVP.\n\nI put the letter down and looked at him. \"Well, that's a bit strange.\"\n\n\"Yeah,\" he said, and then lunged across the room, picked up the latter, and wadded it up. \"Like my parents want me to go to Dartmouth.\"\n\n\"They'd know about the other stuff?\" I asked. I should have been incensed over the whole Yolanda part. Especially, if I had thought about it at the time, didn't he just give me an STD? Why did it take two weeks for the symptoms to show up before I even put two-and-two together? I'm chalking that one up to the universe's paradox correction mechanism, though, if I were honest with myself, the truth is probably that I, like everyone else my age, was just being a stupid kid.\n\nHe stopped from dropping the letter in the waste basket, and then uncrumpled it and re-read it.\n\nOver the next couple days, I started to realize, or now recalled realizing, what some of the strange lettering meant. What looked like little random decorations on the page was actually shorthand notation, something my grandmother had taught me, and it spelled out a secret message of sorts.\n\nThat secret message read: If he hits you, even if you're engaged or married, leave and never look back.\n\nIn the present, I sat forward in my chair and then tried to recall what happened during our relationship. Somehow, we stayed together despite him giving me an STD and a pregnancy scare, through homecoming and me catching him and Stacy together, right up to being engaged and planning a wedding. And then I did exactly what the message had said to do when that moment came, and my memories since became somewhat blurry.\n\nI looked back at all of the letters I had written and all the notes I had made to myself. They were still there, yet now their contents seemed foreign and I couldn't quite recall whether they had actually happened.\n\nFor some strange reason, I had half a mind to look him up again, Well, better sleep on that thought. Why would I have gone through all of this effort only to undo it for some morbid curiosity? I picked up the wooden box only to hear a letter sliding around inside.\n\nI opened it, and there lay a letter addressed to me. When I opened it, I immediately recognized my own hand writing and numbering system. The top right corner indicated this was the first attempt, and the contents were abrupt and clear: Don't you dare try contacting him." ]	1
	[WP] Every morning you wake up to new tattoos foreshadowing what will happen during the day. Today, you’ve awoken to tattoos of a shark, a tennis racket and a bike.	[ "Some detectives rely on methodical reasoning. Others rely on gut instinct and blind luck. But to my knowledge, I am alone in relying on prophetic witchcraft.\n\nIt was Auntie Sòsyè who gave me my tattoos. She is my father’s mother, but everyone calls her Auntie Sòsyè. Each of my siblings bear the same tattoo—or, at least, the closest thing to ‘the same tattoo’ you can have when it changes day by day. The dark potion itches as it swirls and spirals into new patterns each night, each arrangement intended to give us guidance in our day-to-day lives. My brother uses his to play the stock market, my sisters use theirs to play suitors off against each other. Apparently, I am the only one who decided to use these powers to help others.\n\nEach of us keeps our upper arm hidden. It’s not so much a rule of secrecy as it is convenient; after a few weeks explaining why the patterns change, followed by disbelief and accusations of charlatanism using temporary tattoos, it becomes more hassle than it’s worth to keep the marks exposed. People have a vision of how the world works in their heads, and refuse to let novel ideas disrupt it. “You will never convince the earthworm that there is life above the ground,” Auntie Sòsyè would always say. “Let them believe what makes them comfortable.”\n\nBecause of our secrecy, though, there are no photos of Auntie Sòsyè’s gifts. I cannot tell if the patterns have become clearer with age or I have just become more adept at interpreting them, but where I had once struggled to find any sense at all I can now easily decipher the stylized hieroglyphs. That is not to say understanding the meaning has become any clearer.\n\nTake last Friday, for example. I pick last Friday specifically because there was a particularly successful breakthrough for the taskforce. My tattoo’s symbols, in order, were a shark, a tennis racket and a bike.\n\nWe had been staking out a major suspect for weeks, and knew he would be transporting a large amount of money very soon. It was my job, with my partner, to tail him and find out where he was taking the cash to get it laundered, because I had a ‘knack’ for that kind of work. Everything was going smoothly. He obviously didn’t suspect anything, because the fool didn’t even try to double back or lose us. I guess that was because we were keeping quite a distance. Too much distance.\n\nAs we rounded the corner from one grimy, filth-ridden street into another grimy, filth-ridden street we saw the suspect’s car abandoned in a tow-away zone outside Harrys Erotica Emporium. The tow-away sign was a cheap core-flute notice fixed to a streetlight by cable-ties. Very clearly unofficial, but this was not the first like it we had seen. The unauthorised towing operation was part evidence-disposal service for organised crime and part extortion scheme, charging exorbitant fees for the return of cars parked in usually-legal parking spots in the poorly monitored backstreets of the city. The keys were left in the ignition of the disgustingly brown Corolla—a signal of request for the former service. The suspect would not be returning for this car.\n\nI glanced up and down the street. A more dubious assortment of allegedly legal businesses would be hard to imagine; sex shops and pawn brokers jostled with liquor stores and a self-storage complex. “I think I saw him in there!” I lied, pointing to a window above a yellow-and-red sign for pay-day loans. A loan shark.\n\nMy partner vanished down the side alley as I slowly counted to 20. We had no warrant for this place, so our only hope was to scare the crims into making a mistake. My lips finished mouthing the word ‘twenty’ and I knocked.\n\nNo reply.\n\nI knocked again. A distant smashing of glass echoed through the building followed by shouting. Conveniently, in our jurisdiction at least, police are permitted to enter a house without a warrant if there is reason to suspect someone is in danger. And broken glass can be pretty dangerous, I reasoned, as my foot forced the lock from the doorway. Besides, I wouldn’t go wrong if I followed the racket I could hear. Or so I thought.\n\nThe rear door was visible from the entrance, ajar besides a smashed window. My partner was holding a struggling figure to the ground. Our known suspect. Of course he didn’t catch any unknown accomplices who could give us new leads; I had to do everything myself.\n\n“Where are the others?”\n\nMy partner shook his head and panted “no others.”\n\nUnder the window was a leather briefcase which had sprung open to reveal a copious amount of white powder in plastic bags. It didn’t seem likely that this was a dead-drop with that much cash and that much cocaine—an assumption quickly confirmed by the roar of a motor from the front of the office. I ran back to the street in time to see the brown car screech down a side-street. I realised too late it was the car-towing extortion racket we should have been watching.\n\nWe took the suspect back to the precinct and while my partner booked him in I spoke to the team investigating the ‘winch-and-pinch’ operation. Although it was not my case, I knew there had been ongoing problems tracking down the den of the ‘winch-and-pinch’ gang. A few undercover stings had nabbed some minor members who refused to talk, and the exchange location was different each time. They had little to offer except a couple of pages of notes and the mug-shot of their latest arrest.\n\nHe was a large, bald-shaven monster of a man, tattooed from his smooth scalp to the collar of his shirt and probably further; skulls and guns all woven together by the vines of a rose. They were nice tats, but my standards were always above the static patterns of would-be tough-guys. His marks no doubt told the story of where he had been, mine showed where I was going and their guidance was invaluable.\n\nThen it hit me; his ink offered as much guidance as my own. The rose tattoo might not be much of a hint in general, but with a little guidance from my own skin I could see a glimmer of hope.\n\nThe hard part would be convincing a judge to give us a warrant for the desert rose motel, even with its notoriety as a hangout for some of the most violent bikers in the city." ]	1
	[WP] You have a superpower: you can tell what anyone's biggest insecurity is just by looking at them	[ "Dark Star's hand held steady around my skull, ready to send me to the afterlife. Even the slightest twitch from his elephantine fingers could turn my brain into pulp. This is way out of my league. Where the hell is Superman? Oh god I hope this works.\n\n\"So do you get a lot of, like, evil chicks?\" I asked calmly. \n\n\"What?\" Dark Star look confused. I bought myself some time. \n\n\"Like, groupies? Being THE big bad villain around here, I mean you're pretty well known. You must have those nega-babes all over you man...or dudes? If that's what you're into.\"\n\n\"I'm about to crush your skull.\"\n\n\"I'm jealous man. My power's so lame haha.\"\n\n\"You don't have any\".\n\n\"Yeah it's not really flashy. I'm not really the guy that gets to be on TV. You should see the ladies that Supes has trailing him man. That fucker haha. He's pretty committed to Lois though.\"\n\n\"Use it.\", Dark Star demanded.\n\n\"Oh, my power? I uh, I am. It let's me see a person's biggest insecurity.\"\n\nDark Star looked nervous. His grip tightened around my head, and yet, I just felt kind of bad for him.\n\n\"...You know, it's not a big deal. I get it. You're waiting for the right person?\", I reasoned.\n\n\"You know nothing. What kind of power is that? You're just a therapist?\" Dark Star was crying like a bitch.\n\n\"You know it's all online now? You can just fill out a profile and get matched with people based on your similarities.\"\n\nDark Star looked at me quizzically but also still crying. \n\n\"I think if you meet the right person, they won't care that you haven't done it yet, you know?\"\n\n\"Have you seen me? I'm massive. Who would want to be with me? And what do I even talk about?\" Dark Star whimpered.\n\n\"Hey man, listen, we've fought you so many times now. We know you've got a lot to offer the world. I know you've got a lot to offer, and I'll help you every step of the way. You gotta stop all this taking over the world business though dude. Nothing positive's gonna come from it.\"\n\nDark Star released his grip on me. He fell to his knees. He was somber, more so than I've ever seen him, but with the faintest glimmer of hope in his eyes.\n\nI did it. I saved the world.\n\nFuck superman.\n\n\n", "Disclaimer: I'm german so the grammar in this prompt could be weird. And its my first story ever ^^\n\n\n\nWhenever people ask me about my career i simply tell them that i am a certified psychiatrist. Well, i am, but i take my job to a whole other level. Instead of trying to make the patients life better with my knowledge of the human mind i try to destroy them. \n\n\n\nYou probably already figured that im not a normal psychiatrist and maybe you don't even believe me that its possible to \"destroy\" people as a therapist, but let me tell you something: I have a superpower! I can't fly and i am not super strong. My power lets me see the deepest insecurities and fears in you. I know, it sounds pretty useless. But i found a way to use this power in a way that enriches my life: I do what i am born to do. I kill humans with emotions!\n\n\n\nI don't even bother to deal with normal depressed middle age men or wifes that just found out that their husband is cheating on them. What i do is taking important people down for a lot of money! Just last week the CEO of a huge company that is worth billions contacted me with the following request \"I have a problem. One of my most loyal and hard working managers tries to kick me out of my own company! He is telling everyone what i am doing and why the company is better of without me...\" He didnt have to say anything more. I told him to initiate a couple of therapist visits for every single high grossing manager that works under him. The only important thing is that the trouble maker gets under my personal wings! \n\n\n\nJust a couple of days later my i get a knock on my offices door. Its my new Victim. A man who seems to be overflowing with confidence and expensive cologne. \"Hello my name is James Fitzgerald, nice to meet you\" said the tall, rich smelling man. I shook his hand and gestured him to come in. \n\n\n\nAt this point I made sure to make quick small talk to calm him down. Right after superficial chitchat I begin my first phase.\n\n\n\nTHE RECOGNITION\n\n\n\nSince I have this weird superpower all it takes is a quick look in the eyes of the person in front of me. In that case, James had 2 major insecurities. The fact that i can work with two things makes it an easy job for me. See, James has huge problems with his achievement. he tries to push the thoughts of him becoming an failure. Thats his biggest fear! He is also depressed. I was surprised about that but \"fake it till you make it\" right? These are two things I can work with. Now its time for phase 2.\n\n\n\nTHE BAIT\n\n\n\nI did my homework. I know everything about James, so there is no point in lying to me. Well, they always try to that's what I call the bait. You ask them about a certain feeling. A feeling that you know wakes up memories of situations in your victims. That is all you have to do, well, and take notes because this part is essentiall. \n\n\n\n\"James, how was your social life in highschool?\" I asked. \n\n\n\n\"Well, I wasnt really the best student but I had a lot of friends and no real problems\" \n\n\n\nThats funny. My research says something different. He was bullied by almost everyone. He was a complete loner in his whole school life. that bullying and the fact that he never learned how to make friends made his present life very hard. \n\n\n\n\"Good for you!\" I told him with a warm smile on my face \"What do your parents think about your achievements, given that you earn a lot of money?\" \n\n\n\n\"I guess their happy for me\" \n\n\n\nThats a really short answer for a question like this. The truth about his parents is pretty disturbing. His father beat him his whole life and his mother died when he was 12. He hasn't talked to his father or his little brother in 10 years! His father used to always call him a looser, thats probably why he feels this need to achieve. \n\n\n\n\"Okay James, why don't we go for a walk in the park?\" He agreed. \n\n\n\nAs we walked in the park I started the third and last phase\n\n\n\nTHE CONFRONTATION \n\n\n\nWe were five minutes in our walk and talking about life and his job when I saw a dad that was playing with his kids. \n\n\n\n\"Isnt that beautiful? A dad taking his time to go out and play with his kids!\" The facial expression of James twitched. This sentence was a critical hit as some would say. I continued on that part.\n\n\n\n\"Research shows that Kids that grew up with active and caring dads are 200% more likely to succeed. Sadly, if the opposite is the case the kid will grow up to never be able to enjoy his life.\" That research was completely made up but i had to get James attention! \n\n\n\n\"Why would that be\" James asked. \n\n\n\n\"Well, if a kid has the urge to prove himself the whole life just becomes utterly stressful. Sadly the damage of an absence dad is hard and sometimes even possible to recover\" \n\n\n\nJames did clearly feel uncountable. \n\n\n\n\"You can be lucky to have a dad that expresses his pride in you, otherwise i couldn't help you, you know?\" \n\n\n\n\"yeah...\" James looked worried. I was already looking forward to the new beach house this job will buy me. \n\n\n\n\"Hey James, why don't we go to the planetarium? There is a lot to learn about yourself in there\" I figured i already did enough damage talking about the whole father complex and achievement thing, so i wanted to expand on his depression. \n\n\n\n\"yeah sure\" James told me. His body language didn't scream \"confidence\" like it did earlier. It was more like a cry of help! \n\n\n\nAs we were sitting in the planetarium we talked about the universe and the meaning of life. I always to this with depressed people because you can easily expand this conversation into the meaningless nothing that our life is! \n\n\n\n\"You know, there are infinite universes out there. We are so small and unimportant its fascinating\" I knew the words \"small\" and \"unimportant\" are critical to both of his insecurities so i told him more about the utterly brutal truth. \n\n\n\n\"Someday no one will remember us. Just like we never existed. Even now people are just bothering to be around us because we stimulate them. As soon as you express any negative emotions they will leave you. Thats how we humans are\"\n\n\n\nJames had this blank depressed expression on his face. I was very happy that i was making so much progression in just an afternoon. I knew he had to think a lot about his life so i told him that we continue or session the next day. Well, the last stage would make sure that there wasnt a last day for James. \n\n\n\nTHE STAGING \n\n\n\nAs James ate dinner in his five-star hotel i was in the lift getting up to his room. The last stage was also the most dangerous because i had to break into his room. \n\n\n\nWhen i was finally in his hotel room i made sure to make things look as depressing as possible. I know, how? you might be asking. But there is more to it then you might think. I knew from my research that James was a total gunhead. He never travelled without his Glock. Everything i had to do is get the Glock out of his bag and load it. Then i placed some random brochures that said \"Family fun\" or \"Take your kids to our local funland\" in his hotel room. It all looked like housekeeping was doing this so my job was pretty much done. \n\n\n\nI got a call the day after i worked with James. It was my contractor, the ceo of the company \"Mr. Fitzgerald shot himself last night. Thanks for your work\" \n\n", "It was six years into it. Six years since I discovered my power. Six years since I realized just how much power I had. I was ready. \n\n\nIt started out simple, just learning what people are self- conscious about. I tried to help them overcome them, to become better people. I tried. I really did. But then I realized, people don't want to be fixed. People want to be broken, cause they feel that that is who they are. \n\n\nThat is when it started. I started preying on people's insecurities. Going after them. Manipulating them to meet my own ends and needs. \n\n\nIf someone walked into my life, I would immediately learn how to use them and start to. Manipulation was my forté. \n\n\nAnd yes, I left some people in shambles. I broke some people and made them kill themselves. I forced people to bend to my will no matter how much they hated it, because they would not change their insecurities. \n\n\nAll in the name of power. ", "The sun didn't shine bright as usual that morning, an omen, black clouds are unusual this time of the year, I thought, scratched my beard and relaxed on my office's chair.\n\nTranquility and peace didn't last for long, the thoughts of tempest began to flood my mind and frown my stare. I have never seen such dark clouds, they must augur an event. They don't belong in this time of the year, I thought and with both hands I frantically scratched my beard.\n\nI closed the curtains, the trail of forsaken hair laying on my carpet was my ultimatum. It took me years to grow my beard and a simple, almost stupid thought wouldn't take it away from me. \n\nHow dark they were, not in this time of the year. Tragedy, tragedy.\n\nA knock on my door made me jolt out of my reverie. Before I reached the handle, the door fell onto my carpet with a soft thud. Two men, whose height defied human nature broke into my office, holding a third man, with a bag covering his face. \n\n\"We will take care of your door, you don't have to worry about that,\" said the tallest and broadest, who, judging by his accent and features was russian.\n\nI nodded and gulped. A glimpse of their waists revealed four deagles in total. I recognized them because I enjoyed playing Counter Strike.\n\nWith great care they placed their hostage in my divan.\n\n\"Doctor, he needs your therapy. His public appreciation is lowering each day, we can't allow this. Do your best, we know you're the best,\" said the russian as both gargantuan men left.\n\n\"Would you mind taking off the bag? One of my specialties is reading faces,\" I said and took a deep breath. What a way to start the morning.\n\nHis small hands overgesticulated before they lifted up the bag.\n\nMy thoughts began to run rampant again. Dread began to crawl and swarm every fiber and cell of my body. For the first time, I wished I didn't have this ability. My extremities trembled incessantly. \"A-are you fee-feeling this? Is this an e-e-earthquake?\" I asked while stammering.\n\nHe raised his brows and, like a judge, with a swing of his left hand he sentenced my mistake. \"Wrong,\" he said, emphasizing the O as much he could.\n\nI expected an omen, a tragedy but I never expected Donald Trump. \n\n", "Depression. Clingy. Doesn't show emotion. Too short. Paranoid. Overzealous. Not well endowed. Lack of self esteem.\n\nI fucking hate this, why did I agree to a bar? I take another swig of my drink, letting the hops wash over my tastebuds. My date was supposed to be here 15 minutes ago, my date and I were supposed to be talking about ourselves right now. They were going to ask me about my life and I was going to tell them my secret. I know exactly what makes people doubt themselves, the personal issue they keep off of their Facebook, Tinder, Instagram or whatever the hell they have just by looking at them. Nah, why would I tell them? Even my best friends took a long time to believe me even after I told them their insecurities. \n\nAnd it's why I fucking hate bars, too many people and I can't help but look around at them. Each one of them with something about themselves to worry about and all of them filling my mind, making it cloudy and loud and difficult to focus or think. My phone goes off, it's Jane.\n\nJane: Hows it going psychic?\nClick click click click\nMe: I'm still waiting \"ab-less\"\nJane: Low blow >:( That's not like Alex. You sure you haven't missed them?\nClick click \nMe: Pretty sure.\n\nBefore I hit send I hear my name be called out. I turn my head and finally see them. Holy shit Alex is gorgeous. Time seems to slow down as I take it in, short curly brown hair, rolled up shirt with biceps that shout \"I lift.\" combined with a vest tight in just the right places. I'm in love, but knowing what comes next, I quickly try and ignore my mind. But I can feel the gears working to tell me their secret. I down the rest of my drink, hoping the alcohol will slow down the inevitable. \n\n\"Hey I'm Alex, you must be Sam.\"\n\"Yeah nice to finally meet you Alex.\"\n\"Sorry about that, parking can be brutal here sometimes. Hey Mike!\" Alex called out the bartender Addiction.\n\"Hey Alex, the usual?\"\n\"You know it!\"\n\nAlex sits down next to me and we begin to chat. As time goes on I keep trying to distract my brain with everything I can think of, food, alcohol, the T.V. showing the fight, checking the bar out, more alcohol. But nothing works, the truth becomes clearer and clearer no matter how hard I try. No.... \"The pays great and I love it.\" Please no, not now! I really like them I don't want to know! \"It's just the customers are insufferable, like, all the time. SHUT UP BRAIN! \"So yeah that's my job\" Long toes I immediately burst out laughing, doubled over, tears in my eyes, the works. After finally coming to my senses I see Alex staring in a mix of horror and confusion. \n\n\"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do that.\" \n\"It's... ok. I guess.\" \nShit.\n\"I guess the beer hit harder than I thought.\"\n\"Ha ha, had that happen before, the worst feeling on a date.\"\nWe continue to talk, now knowing what I know, it gets easier and I'm able to focus. Last call rings out, we pay our checks and walk out into the cold of the night. \n\nWe stroll down the street for awhile in silence. \"I gotta thank Jane later. Been awhile since I've had this much fun.\" \"Same here, drunkie.\" Alex teases me. \"Whatever monkey feet.\" Alex immediately stops walking. \"How do you know about that?\" FUCK!! I stutter out \"Um, J-Jane told me.\" \"I've never told Jane, or anyone for that matter. How do you know that?\" I fucking hate bars. \"I'll tell you, but you need to trust me on this, ok?\" Alex looks at me with concern. \"Um alright.\" \n\nI first discovered my power when I was 16 years old, I was looking at a mirror, getting ready for school. I was never popular but I had my friends who loved me, I always had my crushes but never said or did anything, I had no idea why until I looked at my self, and my brain began to shout Fear of rejection. I took a deep breath, the cold air stinging my lungs and began telling Alex my secret.\n\nCriticism welcome, I'm still new at this." ]	5
	[WP] A family of redneck aliens ignore Galactic “no contact” law because they want to tour Earth and see the natives. They land in Texas.	[ "And immediately gets shot because they landed in someone's yard who thought they were either robbers or Mexicans.\n\nBut seriously...\n\nGoljice and Renyort step out of their Ruck class Starwagon and onto the soft soil of the planet Earth. Goljice looks across the rough terrain at the indecipherable human creations. The average human only stands as tall as the first leg joint on his stubby fifth leg, so he adjusts his optic array to magnify the images. He points at a human running toward them and says to his coital partner, [Reynolt, did you remember to turn on yer translat-imifier doohicky?]\n\nThe tremale (third gender) honks back, ['Course I turned it on, cousin! Whaddaya take me fer anyway? Here, I'll prove it to ya.] \"Human,\" the 4-legged alien honks and hir voice is automatically altered to sound like English.\n\nThe human continues screaming and flinging tiny pebbles from a stick about the length of its outstretched arm at hir eye which harmlessly bounce off. Reynolt continues, \"Hey human! We want a tour of this place!\"\n\nThe human continues screaming and flinging tiny pebbles. It has changed the colour of its pants and increased its surface humidity.\n\nGoljice says, [Try makin' the sound it's makin'. Must be a greetin' or somthin'.]\n\n[I knew that!] \"Aaaaahhh!\"\n\nThe human responds, \"No-aaaaaaaghhh!\"\n\n\"Ahhh?\"\n\n\"Ahhh, what? Did you just ask a question?\" the human responds as it stops flinging stones.\n\nReynolt slowly sounds out, \"Weee waaant tooo seeeee yoooouuur plaaaannnneeeet.\"\n\n\"You slow or something?\" the human asks.\n\nGoljice asks, [What'd he say?]\n\n[Turn yer own guldang translator on, ya lazy sock!]\n\nAs Goljice fiddles with his controls, Reynolt continues, \"You want I should talk faster?\"\n\n\"What the sam-hill are you?\"\n\nReynolt speaks unnecessarily slowly, \"I am a sentient being. You are a human being.\"\n\n\"What the hill kind of planet is Sentien-bean? Nevermind. What do you aliens want?\"\n\n[It really is slow, isn't it?]\n\nGoljice finally speaks in English, \"We want the grand tour. We heard this here planet was 'habited by backward barbarians. Mostly harmless. Show us what you got!\"\n\nThe human replies, \"But y'all're giants!\"\n\n\"No... we're normal sized. You're the tiny one.\" [Clearly its brain-bone is too small.]\n\n\"You won't fit in my car!\"\n\n\"No problem, human,\" Goljice declares as he spins back around to face the Starwagon, \"I got just the thing.\" [Grabbem, cuz!]\n\nReynolt nods and grabs the human and a clump of dirt from beneath it. The human starts screaming again as they board the 'wagon. \"No need for no seat belts here. We don't hold to no nanny governments. But ya probably should anyway.\" Reynolt indicates which strap is the safety restraint by turning his 5th leg blue, forgetting that humans use their digits to count rather than hues. \n\nGoljice accelerates to start their tour around the north pole, when the screaming suddenly stops.\n\n\"Human?\"\n\nThey both look at its chair, and smell strange iron rich stenches emanating from a red splotch on the rear wall. Reynolt shrugs, [Oops.]" ]	1
	[WP] You are on your way to prison to visit the inmate that killed your father. Even though you loved your father, your intention is to thank the killer.	[ "I loved my father. But I love money. \n\nAs the sole heir to a rich family business, I would have been able to inherit my father's positions and power after his retirement. But who likes to play second fiddle to their father?\n\nIf it so happened that an \"accident\" happened to occur... Would it really be so wrong to claim my inheritance a little early?\n\nThe only loose end is the killer in prison. He was not meant to be caught. He did well to carry out his task and keep a few secrets. Blackmail always provides an extra incentive to be loyal. \n\nAs common courtesy dictates, it would be rude of me to not acknowledge him for services rendered. I'm on my way to say a final \"thank you\". ", "\"What do you want?\"\n\nThe man behind the reinforced window sneered at Tate as if he was looking at some roach he'd just stepped on. The distaste of his voice was quite evident even hearing it through the phones connecting attached to the sides of their booth.\n\n\"Do you... know who I am?\" Tate asked nervously.\n\n\"I don't care much who the fuck you are, really. The guards wouldn't tell me. Are you supposed to cut me a deal or something? Get me to confess and make things easier on me?\" The inmate spat at him, his spit trailing down the clear window down in front of Tate's face. \"Well you could fuck off with those deals of yours! I know what I did, and I'm not gonna deny anything to it!\"\n\nHe was just as crude and ill-mannered as the guards had told him, but Tate didn't let that bother him one bit.\n\n\"I'm Richard Cassidy's son,\" he said.\n\nThe inmate's hostility evaporated and his face showed a mix of various emotions. He seemed to finally settle on frowning, but his once threatening gaze was gone. It was like he couldn't bear to look at Tate.\n\n\"You... why are you here?\" he asked, his tone softer than before. \"Come to see the killer himself, have you? Or is it you want to make sure I get what I deserve first hand?\" He shook his head. \"No, I suppose you're here to curse me out. Here to vent your frustrations and anger on the evil man that had taken your father from you.\"\n\nThe inmate took a deep breath and hardened his face.\n\n\"Well?\" he snarled. \"Have at it then! I won't stop you.\"\n\n\"...Thank you.\"\n\nThe inmate's eyes widened in surprise. His lips parted slightly as the breath he'd been holding seemed to just leak out.\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"Thank you,\" repeated Tate sincerely. \"You have my gratitude, and that of the rest of my family.\"\n\nThe inmate seemed unable to process this for a moment before slamming his hands down on the table. \"Thank me?! Thank me for killing your father?!\"\n\nThe loud boom of the inmate's voice unnerved the guards standing to the walls, but a man in a dark suit with a suitcase in hand kept them at bay.\n\n\"What are you thanking a murderer for, boy?!\" the inmate demanded. \"You should be cursing me, hating me with every fiber of your being! Your father was a good man, and I took that away from you!\"\n\nTate sat unperturbed by the large man's outburst.\n\n\"He was a good man,\" he admitted. \"An honest soul that lit the world around him. God bless him for all the things he's done for his family and those around him. The world is a lot less bright without him.\"\n\n\"Then why-\"\n\n\"But he was a man of great faith.\" Tate smiled sadly. \"He would never give up his own life, even as the pain that tortured him daily grew worse. Even though the pain caused him to sob and thrash in increasing intervals.\"\n\nTate's father had a degenerative disease that was literally eating him slowly away. His own body had turned against him. Many a doctor came to the same conclusion. An early death would be a mercy. However, it was a mercy he could not afford to pay with his soul.\n\nThe inmate lay silent, deflating to his chair. He'd seemed to lose all his energy.\n\n\"...I was never one for the religious sorts,\" he finally said after a while. \"Hypocrites, the lot of them.\" His eyes shifted briefly to Tate. \"Well, maybe not all of them.\"\n\n\"You don't have to mince words,\" nodded Tate. \"It was one of the few things I didn't really care to learn much from my father. Quite complicated it is. Tends to make things such as death far more trouble than it ought to be.\"\n\nThey sat there staring at each other.\n\n\"I am not here to thank a murderer,\" said Tate. \"I'm here to thank a true friend of my father's for giving him what he deserved: An easy and honest death.\"", "The prison was a squat gray structure silhouetted against the bright blue of the afternoon sky. I had been watching it for what my heart said was an eternity but my wristwatch said had only been about five minutes as the bus rolled lazily towards the structure that commanded so much of the otherwise empty country landscape. Nobody wanted to live near a maximum security federal prison, after all.\n\n\nAs we approached, I could see the double rows of chain link fencing and razor wire surrounding the yard where inmates were enjoying their few minutes of fresh air under the ever vigilant eye of rifle toting guards in their tall watchtowers. They seemed jovial, like children at recess, here a few chatting, there a few more playing basketball, and I had to remind myself that most of them were vicious murderers, like the one who had stabbed my father fifty-seven times.\n\n\nI hadn't seen his murderer since the trial ended, some ten years ago now, and I hadn't even been there for the sentencing. I had wiggled out of being a witness at the last parole hearing because of my age. It was time for another, and I didn't know what would be more of a surprise this time around - my very presence, or what I had come to say.\n\n\nThe bus pulled to a stop and I hopped off, leaving the bus empty for a moment before a single former inmate stepped on, whether paroled or through with their sentence I couldn't tell, and didn't care. I smiled as we passed, and received a hesitant, frightened smile in return. I checked my watch, and hurried into the building with only a few minutes to spare.\n\n\nTen minutes later, I was being ushered into the hearing room, and led to a chair that seemed too small for all the attention that was directed towards it. A gasp came from a table across from me where a woman sat, clad in the same orange jumpsuit all prisoners here wore. She was my father's killer, and hers was a face I could never forget. Despite the time since she had last seen me, I knew that my face was one she'd never forget either.\n\n\nI barely had a chance to look at her, and she missed my attempt at a reassuring smile as she deflated at the sight of me, casting her eyes down towards her feet. She kept her eyes down as I answered the parole boards standard questions - who I was, what my relationship was with the inmate and their victim. \n\n\n“And Mr. Johnson, what is your opinion on whether the prisoner, Mrs Johnson should be eligible for parole?”\n\n\nI cleared my throat, trying to make sure I got the words right like my therapist had helped me do once in her office, and like I had rehearsed a hundred times in my head.\n\n\n“I am of the opinion that my mother, Adeline Johnson, should be free.”\n\n\nMy mother's eyes came up, widening first in shock and then narrowing to hold back a rush of tears.\n\n\n“I loved my father more than anything, but it has taken me a long time to realize that he never loved me back. Ten years ago my father was my whole world. When I couldn't do anything right, I thought I just needed to try harder. When he beat me, I thought it was my fault for making him angry. When my mother took him away from me, I thought she was petty and jealous of our bond. I didn't think I deserved better, so I didn't realize that my mom thought that I did. Mom, I'm sorry I didn't realize that sooner.”\n\n\nI turned away from the sight of my mother, who was now sobbing uncontrollably. My eyes stung, and I needed to keep it together long enough to finish.\n\n\n“It took me ten years to realize that she was right all along. Like she said at her trial, if we had stayed with him, we'd both be dead. If she had tried to take me and leave, we'd both be dead. So you can say what you want about her methods, but I have to thank her for saving me. She's suffered enough. Please, let her go home.”\n\n\nA couple weeks later, I was back on the bus to the prison. This time, when it stopped, I didn't get off, and when I smiled at the parolee who got on, she responded with a hug that left my shoulder damp and didn't end until the driver asked us for probably the third time to take a seat.", "The morning air was wet and cold. Even though I was inside the protective confines of my BMW, the pale light and damp surroundings gave me a deep chill. I'd been sitting here in the visiters parking lot for almost an hour, battling with myself. Finally, I opened the door. \n\nWith each step toward the gate, I rearranged the words I would use to thank my father's killer. \n\nThe security guard looked at my I.D. and then zeroed in on my face. I hadn't been that carefully examined since my first time buying liquor. Once through, the officer at the check-in desk took the contents of my pockets, then lead me through a long corridor.\n\nThis prison was not like the dark and dreary ones you see on TV. Compared to the drab conditions outside, in fact, it was rather bright and clean. It even smelled clean. \n\nI was lead to a secure door, behind which were a series of segmented seats in front of a long glass window. This part was just like on TV. \n\nA louder-than-necessary buzzing sound signaled that a door had been opened near the prisoner area. I stepped through and found my assigned seat in front of the thick window. \n\nWhile waiting for Mr. Hadin I again rehearsed the things I might say to him. Should I tell him I'm sorry first, or after I thank him?\n\nAfter what felt like an eon and a half, he was lead to a chair directly in front of me. His orange jump suit was vastly different from the white coat I was accustomed to seeing him in. We each picked up our black phones. \n\n\"How are you doing in here?\" I asked him. I should have known all that rehearsing was for nothing. \n\nAfter a long sigh, Mr. Hadin shook his head and looked at me with lasers I thought might actually melt through the bullet proof glass. \n\n\"Well, it's prison\", he said softly. \n\nI felt guilt work its way to my eyes, which I wasn't expecting. I tried to tell him I was sorry, but my vocal cords were stained. So I mouthed the words \"Thank you\" through the glass, as tears rolled down my cheek. \n\nHe was the family doctor for 20 years. But now he was a murderer. A felon. Life isn't fair, even if death is. " ]	4
	[WP] You challenged Death to a game of chess, in exchange for his banishment from this mortal plane. You won. For 250,000 years, Death has not returned.	[ "You set the black knight down with a final clack.\n\n(The sound echoes, hollowly. You do not know what these chess pieces are made of – you do not want to know, but you have a good guess nevertheless.)\n\n\"Checkmate,\" you say in a voice too rarely used, and you know without looking up that your opponent's face is turning pale enough to match their bone-white pieces.\n\n(You would like to say that you understand the feeling, except that you really, really don't, and isn't that just the whole problem here?)\n\n\"Well, it was worth the try,\" says your opponent finally as she stands. \"May I ask a question, though?\"\n\nYou do look up, then. \"I don't think that's how this works, but go ahead.\" It's not like any of this is how it's supposed to be, anyway.\n\n\"Why aren't you playing white? I thought, what with the pale horse and everything...\"\n\nYou almost laugh at that one. The irony is entirely unmissable, even for someone taking swings in a dark room with just a baseball bat. You wouldn't even know how to ride a horse if you had one, for starters. \"Death plays white. I'm just the stand-in here.\"\n\nShe blinks hard, surprised. \"You're just th– how did that even – \"\n\n\"Ah, ah,\" you say (honestly, this is the most you've talked in... a century? two?), waving her towards the exit. \"One question only, that's what you said. Better chance next life!\"", "While it is generally pretty nice to effectively be immortal it has its fault as well.\n\nTo start of money is kind of an issue. You might think that just becuase I am old as shit I know a lot. Which granted is true. BUT, I can not really put that on display can I? I have to pick a career or a couple and stick to them until a few decades have gone by and then I can effectivly break the cycle and start again. As for telling people of my immortality, have you ever seen The Man From Earth...? Yea, not that great of an idea after all. \n\nSo sure, I have saved up some money, but poeple expect me to die and here I am not dying at all. Which means I pretty much have to switch banks, get new identities and so forth, which is not an easy task to do. So I do not have much more money than the average person does. Maybe I could go into a field which pays a lot, but that would be inadvicable since getting too much attention would not be very good for my cover. So generally I keep myself busy with more \"important but low-key\" jobs. \n\nAs for my \"firend\" Mr. Death I am uncertain what his or hers or it or whatever the fuck deal is. I get that he probably wants to honor his end of the deal but it seems rather odd that seemingly no one else has done this. And with my expertise that I have aquired over the years I should be able to spot any potential fellow immortal. \n\nThat brings me to my own theories and conclusions. If I was Death, I probably would have quite long ago. So whatever Death is, it probably is not human. So what is it? Just some dude who got stuck with a shitty job, or is it like litterally death? Like is it cancer is it ebola or how does it work? \nWhile I have pondered these quiestions for many years, the answers I have come up with seems rather farfetched. Eventually I might get some closure as to what is going on, but I suspect it might be some time until then.\n\nUntil next time. \n\n/N.D.", "\"Every day I think about the Game. I was young and foolish then, seeing Death as an end to the cycle, unnecessary. In all honesty, I didn't even win fair and square, Death became offended by some of my cruder remarks on his character and quit to teach me a lesson...and what a lesson its been. \n\n252,017 years since a single thing has died. At first, people were ecstatic, but as the years wore on it became clear that death is needed as much as life. Everything living forever simply does't work out too well in terms of natural processes, and as the only intelligent life-form, humans had to become the new managers of death. \n\nThankfully, our technological abilities allowed for the computation of life-times, and through that our ability to manage life and death revolutionized our understanding of the Universe, and of each other.\n\nAs the sole human with true knowledge of Death's departure, I took it upon myself to found this company those many years ago, with the goal of managing Death, and through that Life. Since then, with the help of everyone here today we have become the largest business entity in the known Universe, and continue to expand.\n\nIn Death, lies power!\"\n\nThe boss stood behind his platinum plated podium, looking pleased as the applause poured in. I grimaced, just wanting to get back to my desk and start the days work. He made a big deal about going around to every planet-hub, talking to employees personally and the such. \n \n\"Unfortunately, this sector hasn't been performing quite as well as most others, and I have some sad news for you today. You have been chosen as our yearly life-cut, and you know how it goes-once you're chosen, that's it.\"\n\nThis time, it wasn't applause that erupted in the room, but screams of fear and anger as a fine mist was injected into the room via the ducts. Just my luck, I thought, as the mist overtook me and the boss's hologram shimmered into nonexistence. Should've called in sick today. \n \n\n\n\n" ]	3
	[WP] A Married Couple's last major argument in their relationship.	[ "Jack's eyes have always been too close together. I start to see him in the garden. In lilies and potatoes. In the persistent yarrow and thistle I struggle to kill. \n\nI make mashed potatoes every night for a week, picturing his face. \n\nHis crooked eyes. \n\nHe doesn't complain. He eats at work or at bars or in rooms with women that are not me. \n\nHe wants a divorce, he just won't voice it. I am an accessory, a bright bauble to show off to his co-workers at Christmas parties. \n\nI study Tai Chi and remember to breathe. \n \nJack starts wearing ugly sweater vests. \n\nI stop picking up his socks and underwear. They litter the carpet in shades of white and brown. \n\nJack grows a mustache. A thick Tom Selleck mustache that looks itchy and uncomfortable. \n\nI open up a new plot in my garden. I want to grow chrysanthemums and yellow tulips. \n\nI'm mashing potatoes again when he comes home. His briefcase hits the floor, hard. \n\nI keep pounding. \n\n\"You need to clean this place up,\" he says. \n\nWe haven't spoken for two weeks. The sound of his voice is as unfamiliar to me as my great grandfathers. \n\n\"Hire a maid,\" I say. \n\nHe spins me around and I focus on that stupid mustache. \n\n\"I'm tired of this. I want a divorce.\" \n\nThat stupid mustache. \n\nMy hand still grips the metal potato masher and I bring it up, hitting him square in the chin. He falls back. \n\nHis face bleeds in a fountain as he curses and lunges at me, calling me a crazy bitch. \n\nI was always crazy. In high school. Working while he went to college. Gaining and losing child after child, my stomach a poisonous pit. \n\nHe hits me and I savour the heat of his palm. He's not using his fists. \n\nI breathe and punch his stomach. He can't breathe. \n\nI bring the masher down on his head again and again until he stops making noises. Until his mustache is obscured by red. \n\nI plant him under my flowers and tell people he ran away to Vegas to become an Elvis impersonator. \n\nI don't care if they believe me. My flowers bloom. ", "It was just a regular day, we got up early, went for a walk. It felt cold, I wished I'd brought a jacket. We even held hands for a bit, it was nice. \n\nWe came home and she started crying. Wailing incessantly she began screaming and thrashing. She was inconsolable. \n\n\"I hate you!\" She bellowed.\n\nHer eyes were blood shot, her face shook as she batted at nothing. This uncontrollable rage aimed at no one. \n\n\"Please, sweetheart. Come back to me.\" I reached a hand out slowly towards her shoulder. \n\nShe shifted away and flopped on to the couch. She became so sweet then, endearing even. \n\n\"Hello, love. Would you like to me to bake you something?\" She got off the couch almost robotically and started towards the kitchen. \n\nI watched stoically as she brushed past me. My head sank. \n\n\"You can't keep doing this, sweetheart. You have to stop.\" I said flatly attempting to conceal my emotions. \n\n\"Stop what, love? Baking? Don't be silly, it's your favourite!\" She continued on into the kitchen, humming a tune I didn't recognize. \n\nI walked over to the phone. I pulled out a crumpled note from my pocket and dialled the number that was written on it. I could hear begin to sing softly as she baked in the kitchen. \n\nEach ring brought more tears to my eyes. I nearly hung up but a voice came over the receiver. \n\n\"Hello, department of mental health and psychiatric care. How may I help you today?\" \n\n*** \n\nHope you enjoyed it! Other stories over at r/TheYogiBearhaWrites\n\n", "He came home early for this, the beige, shrunken lump sitting in a pool of fatty gravy in the middle of the table. To its right, the potatoes heap in stodgy, lumpy mounds and fall like boulders from the serving spoon. The uniform, tricolour vegetables have been boiled to mush and leak water across the bottom of his plate. But it hardly touches the blue hydrangeas around the raised, gold-gilded rim. Those remain pristine, mostly. She dug out the good bone china gifted at their wedding for this. \n\nFine bone china is prized for its delicate strength and translucency, its warm, white colour. It should have at least 30% bone mixed in with the clay to be considered quality and that percentage could be as high as 45. A utensil of half animal ground to ash and burned in intense flame to serve slices of animal to other animals. He lifts his fork to his mouth. Up and down, like a lever. The piece of cow leather grinding between his molars makes his jaw ache.\n\nHer mouth is darkly stained on the other side of the expanse. Her palm cradling the bowl of her glass keeps the Crianza in it at an ideal temperature. Bright red fruit in the nose and silky tannins enveloping the palate provide a fine accompanying flavour. The acid must sit well in her empty stomach.\n\nEventually, a break in the musical jangle of metal on stone and glass upon wood. “How was work?”\n\n“Fine.”\n\n“Nothing happened?” The flattened tone makes it less a question.\n\n“It was work. The same shit as always. What else do you want to know about it?”\n\n“How about something more than the one word that is the spirit and definition of mediocrity? Do you care at all about anything anymore? Eat, drink, sleep. Rinse and repeat. If the job is shit, then do something about it. Take action. Are you even a man right now?”\n\nHe himself would have preferred stoneware dishes, plainly coloured, unfussy, and with a solid heft. But she had insisted on registering for the china. They surely would have used the stoneware a hell of a lot more than only on those occasions deemed special enough, times that came by so rarely. Stoneware would have only bounced off of the table instead of shattering like the china. Stoneware wouldn’t have left sharp shards all over the mashed potatoes and in the blank space in front of him. Stoneware wouldn’t have pieced his jugular in that last, desperate reach.\n \n“Are you listening to me right now?”\n\nHis head lifts up, eyes clearing. Real or imagined, he finally sees the end.\n", "“I’m going to stay with my sister” Said the irate wife. \n“Oh, come on Scarlett! I promise you I didn’t cheat! Pleas just talk to me!” Derek screamed in desperation, but it was too late. The damage was done, and she knew the truth. As Scarlett packed her bag, she felt the presence of her husband trying to reason with her, but she didn’t hear a word of it. She felt so broken it was deafening. “How could you?” “I trusted you!” “I thought we were meant to be...” All these thoughts were going through her head, but she still didn’t say a word. She felt odd. Never in Her life had she imagined she would care so much about someone cheating, so to be driven to this state was definitely abnormal. She ignored this train of thought and finished packing. Scarlett walked out to her car, Derek following her the whole way, begging and pleading with her to just listen to him for a moment, but she still didn’t hear a thing. She put her bag in the trunk, got in the car, and started it. It was pouring rain, but her husband stood in front of the car getting absolutely soaked, but he didn’t care. He just stood there with his hands on the hood and a look of such fierce determination in her eye, it snapped her out of the trance and she finally heard what he’s been trying to say this whole time. “How could I have cheated when you’re the one who shuffled and dealt? I don’t know how I got all those draw-4’s but there’s no way I could have given them to myself.” Scarlett was overwhelmed with a feeling of embarrassment and shame for her reaction. Of course he was telling the truth! Derek had never once cheated at anything before... it was far to easy to come to that conclusion after drawing 16 cards in a row. Any woman or man of sound mind would have come to the same conclusion as she did, no matter the circumstance! She got out of the car and embraced her husband, both of them getting drenched on. The hurried back inside, and Scarlett immediately went over to the table, grabbed the whole deck of cars and threw them into the fire. “Fuck you, Uno” she muttered under her breath as she watched the cards curl and crackle in the flames. She was still shocked at how deeply rooted and powerful the reaction she felt was from just a simple card game. Maybe she would have known better if she’d ever played any board games or card games as a kid, but she was never fortunate enough to afford things like that till now. Scarlett was tired, and she wanted to put Uno out of her mind. She suggested to Derek that they play something less infuriating. Derek agreed, so Scarlett started scanning the shelves for something interesting. “Oh! This one looks like fun!” She did with innocence and naivety as she pulled the box from shelf. She turned around and set Monolopy on the table. Derek looked at the box, looked at her, and smiled with just the slightest bit of malice. " ]	4
	[WP] Humans respawn, there’s just a 6000 year wait timer. Adam respawns.	[ "Adam pops up in a back alley where nobody is. Like the terminator, Adam appears in a giant flash with lots of electricity surrounding him. Adam observes the world for it is 6000 years since then. “What are these moving vehicles,” he exclaimed to himself as he saw a nearby car pass by. \n\n“Why is it so warm now? Why are the buildings so tall? What happened to the future?” Adam continued to walk around and observe the new world. Little did he know, he was naked and broke. In a matter of minutes, he was arrested for public nudity, but Adam had no idea about the police forces and what was going on. Adam tried to run, but because Adam was resisting the cops, he ending up getting shot again. Adam appeared in Heaven once again and saw the 6000-year timer start up once again.\n", "I blinked. \"Where am I? What am I doing here?\" These thoughts ran through my head as I looked around. Everything around me was unfamiliar. The ground below me was harder than the earth I was used to. Many structures painted in a myriad of colours rose high up into the sky. There were people around me. People. Actual humans like me. They were wearing these odd colourful garments. There were no plants or trees as far as the eye could see.\n\n\nI remembered going into a deep slumber, my darling Eve looking down at me with a worried expression on her face as I closed my eyes. It seemed like that had happened just moments ago. \"Where's Eve?\" I wondered.\n\n\n\"Mommy, there's a naked man over there!\" I saw a young boy pointing at me and saying something to an older woman, presumably his mother. I wondered what he was saying. I started walking around, bewildered, looking at the sights this alien world had to offer. I seemed to be attracting a lot of attention, though I did not know why. I was curious about these tall structures. They had an opening, through which people were entering and exiting, and I tried to do the same.\n\n\n\"Sir, I need to ask you to stop right there.\" I saw a couple of well built men in similar garments, and I vaguely comprehended that their words were directed at me. They were blocking my entry into the structure, and I tried to go around them. One of them raised his hand, and animal instinct told me that he was about to hit me, so I grabbed his arm. I felt a jolt through my brain. Information started going into my brain, and I began to comprehend this strange world at last. I understood that the language these people spoke, common language apparently understood by all, was called English. I spoke my first words in this new found language, \"Fuck!\". I did not know what had compelled me to say that particular word, I had just said it.\n\n\"Excuse me?\"\n\nI looked up. \"My.... name.... is.... Adam.\"\n\n\"Well Mr. Adam, I'd have to ask you to leave. You are causing a commotion here.\"\n\nI took a few seconds to process this, but I understood. I also understood that these people were wearing clothes in order to cover their private parts, though I did not know why, and I stood out because I didn't have any. I continued walking and turned into an alley, where I found some clothes on a large dustbin, which I put on. The information I possessed told me of a place called a library which had a repository of books I could go through to gain knowledge of this mysterious place. \n\n\nVery soon, I found the library and walked in. Some people stared at me but did not bother me. I found this place quiet and serene compared to all the noise outside. Books were quite delightful, little squares filled with symbols that were comprehensible to everyone. These symbols, called words, followed definite patterns. I was quite proud of what I had discovered, until I started reading the books. I could not comprehend all the words in the book, and I began to realize that all the information I possessed had come from the security guard whose hand I had held. I began walking around, looking for a better source of information, and soon found the librarian, an old woman with many wrinkles who was poring over a book with the utmost concentration. I walked over to her and held her hand. I immediately felt the jolt through my brain as information started trickling in.\n\n\n\"Excuse me, what do you think you are doing, sir?\"\n\nI perked up in surprise. She knew of me. She knew of Adam and his companion Eve. Before I could discover anything else, she snatched her hand back. \n\n\"How do you know of me?\"\n\n\"I beg your pardon?\"\n\n\"How do you know of me.... and Eve?\"\n\n\"I'm sorry sir, I don't know what you're talking about. I'll have to ask you to leave, please. I'm calling security otherwise.\"\n\nI started getting frustrated at everybody turning me down. \"No, no, you don't understand. My name is Adam. I am the first human to ever exist. I need to know what happened. Please.\"\n\nShe stared at me, unimpressed. \"I think I'll have to call 911 too, sir. Your behaviour is inexcusable.\"\n\n\"No, please. I promise I will not trouble you. Please tell me everything you know about Adam and Eve.\"\n\n\nShe calmed down at this and directed me to a section of the library which contained many old books. I sat down there and started reading. I discovered that Adam and Eve were now a myth, the first people said to have been created by this mythical person called God. It said that they had existed 6000 years ago. With my knowledge of the present method of calculating time, I deduced how much time had passed. I was flabbergasted at the number. \"I've been away for this long? I don't believe this.\" What had happened to Eve? Where was she? None of the books seemed to know what had happened to them. Just then, I heard a commotion outside the library.\n\n\nI saw a naked woman roaming around outside the library and immediately recognized her.\n\n\"Eve!\" I cried as I ran towards her. She looked at me and her eyes opened wide with recognition. I ran up to her and held her hand, and immediately all the information I possessed started getting transferred to her, and I saw her beginning to comprehend all the things happening around her. We immediately went around looking for clothes and found some in another trash can. We started walking around, taking in everything we saw. We were both deep in thought, and after a while, we seemed to come to the same conclusion at the same time.\n\n\n\nHumans respawn, and there was a 6000 year timer to it. We had just respawned. " ]	2
	[WP] A Sovereign Citizen gets appointed to the Supreme Court.	[ "\"Right then, we just need you to sign the code of conduct and federal disclosure of interests and we can get you started, Justice Cletus.\" The clerk proffered a pen nervously.\n\n\"Ah ain't signing no agreement with the gub'ment, no sir! You can take your contract with my legal fiction an' stick it where the sun don't shine!\"\n\n\"Oh thank Christ,\" the clerk sighed. And so the problem resolved itself. \"We'll have to tell President Shkreli to try again.\"\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] The aliens were amused by humanity's attempts to master railguns and plasma, knowing such technology to be expensive and impractical. They were not so amused when we succeeded.	[ "We had long accepted that there must be life beyond our galaxy. Yet we never expected they could traverse the distance. It was thought that one would have to consume more energy than could be gathered or generated spared in any one galaxy to reach another. We were wrong, for the Vara came from beyond. \n\nThey came in the form of a cunning predator. They literally sought to consume all of Intelligent life. When they hatch Vara young must consume their siblings before being accepted by their parents. Out of this most basic of instincts they built their religion and from it their culture. For they believed that only by seeking out all other life in the endless universe could they be one with their Gods. \n\nSo many warlike species saw others as inferior, or simply felt aggression without cause. The Vara however readily accepted the existence of other \"Children of Creation\". Seeing brotherhood as a challenge for survival not comradery. Thus they were oddly merciful of unintelligent life, gathering and nurturing ecosystems from countless worlds in the bosom of their titanic Arc vessels. \n\nThey drew many lessons from their prey. In their endless crusade they had absorbed much technology. Such that we could hardly assail their warships ensconced in their strange armor. Photonic charges, Neutron beams, Electron rays, molecular dissemblers, Lasers, all fell short of their purpose. Missiles were too slow and superluminal bombardment too clumsy. \n\nThe day came when they reached the Human Expanse. The galactic community could do little but watch in sad resignation as the youngest of our members came under their shadow. When the unexpected happened. Their blows landed, and the unstoppable wave of the Vara invasion crested. Inexplicably the Humans had two weapons we had all derided and abandoned long ago. \n\nThe plasma mortars were rapid and energy intensive balls of superheated gasses. Considered impractical by all but the paranoid humans. Plasma could not be easily dodged nor could it be intercepted by the point defense systems. It ripped through the Vara shields and burned away their bio-superstructures. Yet their shell like armor remained impervious to even the heat of plasma. \n\nTherein came the Human expression of a \"one-two punch\". Magnetic Acceleration Cannons, MACs for short or as many others call then \"rail-guns\" filled in this need. Harnessing the power of pure kinetic force. Another formerly \"wasteful technology\" that the Humans insisted on perfecting at great expense. The sheer power of of a metal projectile slung from a frictionless system at speeds approaching the speed of light proved able to crack the Vara armor under a heavy enough salvo. \n\nA far more survivable solution that the suicide drones of the Fenelix, and more practical than Stellar Implosion \"Nova-Bomb\" devices of the Zea'tor. The humans happily sold their devices to all who needed them. So it was that the Vara were turned back at great expense but life in the Milky Way survived extragalactic extermination. \n", "Projectile after projectile tore through space at incredible speeds, the guns reloading and refiring much faster than the aliens more practical lasers. Their dense armor crumpled beneath the shards of metal fired by the rail-guns at relativistic speeds. Ship after alien ship flared up as reactor cores exploded.\n\nThe alien populace was no longer finding mirth at the amount of resources the humans had poured into these highly impractical and dead-end technologies. They retreated to the surface of their home world and threw up their energy shields. They were only practical at planetary scales but proved effective in stopping the kinetic bombardment. \n\nThe alien scientists were meeting on the surface below when the human's moon-sized, super-impractical, yet impressive as fuck THING slipped out of warp. \n\n\"Wait, isn't that designed just like that fictional planet destroyer from that movie...\" One of the scientists who loved to watch entertainment from Earth and find plot holes began.\n\nThe huge ring on the gigantic starship aligned with the planet below.\n\n\"Is that thing a plasma cannon the size of our smallest continent?\" Another scientist asked, \"that is so impractical I don't know what to say!\"\n\nThey were still gawking and complaining about the inefficiency of such a thing when the beam fired, bringing and abrupt end to their argument and their species.\n\nOn board the Behemoth \"Death Star\" Class warship the captain smiled and said, \"Now tell me THAT wasn't worth the money we spent on this thing. Set a course for the Gundi Homeworld. We've got some smiles to wipe off their tentacled faces.\"" ]	2
	[WP] They say eyes are doors to one soul. As a optometrist you are considering quitting your job becuase of all the disturbing stuff you seen but today was you tipping point.	[ "Dave had seen things in his career that would make even the strongest men shudder. \n\nDeath. Destruction. War. Violence. Torture. \n\nDave believed in his younger and more naive years, that going into the sciences would be a good living, as is often said. So he did, studying biology at his local University where he ended up specialising in the eye. Graduating from college, he got a job at a local hospital as an optometrist due to work experience and internships he had completed over the last couple of years. \n\nLittle did he know, that it would be a nightmare of a job. They say that the eyes are a window to the soul. Dave discovered this was true early on when he was inspecting a patients eyes and saw, unravelling before him, a landscape filled with daisies and a beautiful woman stood, her hair blowing in the breeze. The most beautiful woman he had ever seen, flashing across his vision. \n\nAt first, Dave thought he was tired, or perhaps going mad. Maybe pursuing a PhD has cracked my brain and I'm going loopy. thought Dave. \n\nBut then his next patient came in, a young pale woman with deep rings under her eyes. In her, he saw years of emotional and physical abuse from a drunken father. \n\nOver the next few days, Dave saw everything. Good people have good desires and Dave admired that. He saw some beautiful things. One patient's greatest desire was to climb Everest, to overcome one of the greatest obstacle's known to man and in his eye, Dave saw him achieve that alongside a beautiful young woman. He had seen people at the top of huge companies, earning millions of dollars. People settling down with loved ones. Strangely, the woman in everybody's greatest desire was the same, which Dave thought must be his own subconscious imprinting on theirs. However, not everybody had good, respectable desires.\n\nWhen people were not so good, that's when he saw evil. The wars, the killing, the torture. All the horrors of mankind right there in his little office. \n\nIt wears a man down carrying everybody else's burdens and dark secrets. By his third week, Dave was exhausted. His face had sunken. Deep wrinkles like canyons had formed around his eyes. His hair had started to turn grey, giving him the look of somebody thirty years older. \n\nThen she walked in. Beautiful, young and full of life. Her eyes sparkled with a vitality that he had seen only once before, a lust for life. She excited him by her very presence. \n\n\"Have a seat Mrs...um, Mrs Loviatar.\" Dave said gesturing towards an empty chair. The woman sat down, as gracefully as Dave had ever seen anybody sit down. \"It says here that you've been suffering a pain behind your eyes?\" \n\nThe girl nodded slowly. Her eyes were locked onto Dave's and he saw something. Himself, naked and afraid. And a woman, beautiful and dangerous stood over him. \n\nShifting in his chair, yet unable to take his eyes off of her, Dave pressed on. \"And how often do you feel this pain?\" Dave continued as another vision flashed across his mind. \n\nShe was on top of him, kissing him, but it hurt. His throat hurt, his lungs hurt, his eyes hurt. If he could see people's greatest desires, then this woman desired Dave. But why could he feel pain? Why was this vision painful to him? And why did he feel like he had seen this woman before?\n\nSoon his head began to swim. He forgot completely about the woman and her eye pain, a grey cloud descending across his vision. \n\n\"I have been following you for some time, Dave.\" the woman spoke, her lips barely moving in her perfect face \"It's quite a gift you have, staring into the Abyss of people's souls.\" \n\nDave's head felt like it was about to explode. \n\n\"But what was it that Nietzsche said? If you gaze long into the abyss, the abyss gazes also into you\". She rose from the seat and walked over to Dave. \"Well Dave, your soul reflected in the abyss and you saw parts of yourself that no sane man ever wants to see. And unfortunately, I'm here to clean up the mess.\" \n\nDave began to sob. Tears streamed down his face as he attempted to rise. \"I don't...I don't understand\" Dave cried. \n\n\"No, nobody ever does. You've cracked Dave, you've spent so long gazing into other people's soul that seeing your own soul has broken you. I'm not even real Dave\" the red woman said, handing him a knife. \n\nSuddenly Dave understood. He hadn't only been seeing other people's desires but holding up a mirror to his own. And he wasn't sure whether his were the good ones or the bad ones. \n\n\"The bad ones Dave. They were all you.\" The woman spoke again \"Trust me, this is the only way\". \n\nNearly an hour later, a nurse came into Dave's office to check he was still there and found him, a pool of blood spreading around his still body, an expression of great pain across his face. ", "Just beyond the iris lay the secrets that are locked away in the soul. It's my job to guard those secrets. I am an optometrist, and I do this for a living. \n\nSome of the secrets are beautiful stories that touch my heart. Stories of love, laughter, and happiness. Times spent with family and loved ones envelop their souls. They are pure souls. But in some, I have seen the ugly beasts that humans can become. I have seen their secrets of rape, of lies, of murder. The lies they told to cover up their terrible acts. I saw it all. In one soul, I saw something so dark, that I quit my job. This is how the story goes...\n\nIt was a day like any other day. People had come in for eye exams, asking for the ever-popular soul-protecting eyeglasses. One man, whose name I will not disclose, was the one who caused me to decide to quit my job. In his soul, I saw that he wanted to kill me. For selling those soul-protecting glasses to his wife, who was being unfaithful to him. She never revealed her soul to him anymore, and it drove him mad with jealousy and suspicion. He decided that it was all my fault. In his eyes, I witnessed my own brutal murder. He had tied me, limb for limb, onto a board. Attached to each of my limbs was a strong rope. At the end of each rope was a vehicle, driven by four of his accomplices. They would each drive their vehicle away from me at full speed, ripping my limbs clean off. I was then nothing but a torso. I could not scream. I could not cry. But I could feel everything. I was still conscious. Next, he began with the task of removing my eyes, so that no one could see what I had been through. So no one could see how I had died. I screamed then, a scream that lasted for hours and was bloodcurdling. There would be nothing to tell my story. And then, he and his henchmen left me there alone to die. \n\nI gasped quietly as I saw this in his eyes, dropping my pen and chart. He meant to murder me, and he meant to murder me today. He would stop at nothing. I could not call the authorities. I had no proof of this except for what I saw in his eyes. What I saw in his soul. Intent isn't a crime. Not yet. And the authorities could not view peoples' souls the way that I could. They needed years of training. Why the authorities were not taught soul-reading, I do not know. It would definitely be a benefit to society. But I digress. I stepped away from the man, a bewildered, fearful look on my face. I asked him a one-word question: \"why?\" He replied, \"why, what? I don't know what you're talking about.\" He seemed genuine when he said this. I said to him, \"I saw your intentions in your soul. Do you really mean to do this to me?\"\n\n\"No,\" the man said. \"I can't bring myself to go through with it. Look again, doctor. Please.\" I hesitantly obliged. Instead of the gory murder scene I had seen before, I saw his pain. I saw his rage. I had no right to sell these people soul-protecting glasses. If an untrained person could view someone else's soul, it should be considered a gift and they should be able to practice that gift. \"I'm sorry,\" I whispered. \"I didn't mean to be the direct cause of your troubles.\" The man lowered his head and nodded. He said quietly, \"I'm very angry with you and I had terrible thoughts. I don't mean to harm you, but please stop selling these things. My wife is sleeping with another man. I don't know who I'm more angry with, him or her.\" \"But I am meant to be a guardian of souls,\" I said. \"I'm just doing my job. My intent was never to cause people trouble. Please don't harm either of them. Just leave her.\"\n\nIn the end, I was able to convince the man not to do anything violent. But still, I left the job. Because I never want to see another soul like that again. Not in this lifetime.", "They say, the eyes are the door to one's soul, and you know doc? I believe that with every fiber of my being. Every time I look into their eyes I can see the things they are most proud of, things they love, the things they wish they did differently, but perhaps the most disturbing thing is that I can see the evil they have done. The monsters of men. \n\n\"Why don't you start from the beginning, Mr. Filmore. Tell me about the start of your day.\" Said the therapist setting next to Mr. Filmore's chair.\n\n\"My day started out normal enough. Had one young patient whose medical team had a breakthrough in the medical field. I saw them cheering and hugging each other as they stared at the screen. The next patient just buried her mom, and you could see the pain in her eyes as she had no idea what to do next. The next few customers were fairly average. They loved their kids and spouse and were apprehensive about the future. The last customer of the day, I have never seen a darker soul than his before today. The agony and horror he went through, I, I can't\" Said Mr. Filmore with his eyes starting to water up.\n\n\"It's okay, take your time. You need to work through this at your own pace.\" Said the therapist in a calm relaxing voice.\n\nMr. Filmore sat there with his head in his hands taking deep breaths trying to collect himself before he moved on. \"I saw something that can't exist, shouldn't exist. An entire planet exploding, killing everyone on the surface.\"\n\n\"Maybe you saw someone's fear of losing everything and having no control over it.\" Remarked the therapist.\n\n\"It wasn't Earth that I saw exploding and the reflection in the window wasn't human. I don't know where this planet was. Nor do I know who or what was in the window. But I know what I saw. I saw millions of lives being extinguished in a moment. I can't but help but have this nagging feeling that the thing in the window knew that it was going to happen and that it caused it.", "\"What have you seen today, doctor?\"\n\nIt's always the same. At the end of every day, the same phone call issued by the same person. Inquiring as always, eager to find out more on my behalf.\n\n\"Not...much...\" my words quiver with hesitation, still shaken by what went down only two hours ago.\n\nIt's been a pleasant day today. Not a single junkie or wife abuser walked through the door of my cabinet, and for that I was thankful. You see, I'm an optometrist, and a rather well known one at that. A doctor that deals with eyes and what they hold, quite literally. But unlike my peers, I have a...gift. I call it that with a heavy heart, as it feels more like a curse with each passing day.\n\nI'll settle in between and call it an ability. The ability to open a soul's gates and observe it's contents. It only takes a moment, a split second of eye contact with another. Their entire life flashes before me, laid neatly for me to pick it apart.\n\nBut humans have secrets, there's a reason not many share my ability. Some are innocent. A first kiss. The hot embrace of another as they consume their love. White lies told left and right to spare others of burdens. \n\nOthers are darker. Much...much darker. Flesh split by lead and sharpened steel. The iron smell of something red. The yelps of pain, the screams of agony...the pleading and begging as he beats her again...the cries of an innocent child, defiled by the one that should protect them...\n\nAll very burdening, and if not for that phone call, the promise the monsters would be taken care of, I'd have quit long ago. But I persist, for sometimes I am the only one that can see the monsters for what they truly are.\n\nLike...like I saw him today. He came to my cabinet half an hour before closing time. Dressed neatly in a black suit, the shirt spread over wide, square shoulders. His black hair was slicked back, and a pair of sunglasses masked his eyes. He gave off an air of ominocity as he walked up to my desk.\n\n\"Hello doctor...\"\n\n\"Connor. Nice to meet you,\" I answered with professional kindness.\n\n\"The pleasure is mine...\"\n\nHe proceeded to ask for an appointment, and made passable small talk as he waited. My curiosity got the best of me, and I offered to see him right away. He pulled off his suit jacket and folded it in his lap as he sat down in the chair.\n\nAnd then it came. The unending barrage of lights and sounds, the thousands...no, the millions of lifetimes contained inside him as I peered into his eyes. I was confused, bewildered, shaken from my very core. For the first time in my life, I lost myself in the visions. Couldn't tell apart back from forth, one life from the next. He'd seen a lot of horrors, done many more.\n\nSameness.\n\nBy the time the countless eons came to an end, I was a shadow of my former self. Broken, scared, and yet intrigued. I came to my senses with something cold pressed against my chest.\n\n\"Welcome back, Connor...\" The man mumbled. His finger danced on the trigger of a handgun as he contemplated pulling it.\n\n\"What...\" was all I managed to blurt out as I struggled to contain my sobs.\n\n\"I'll leave you with a warning, doc,\" the man answered as he got up. He stashed the gun away behind his back, and threw the jacket over his shoulders. \"I better not find you here tomorrow, or any other day after that.\"\n\n\"Who...who are you?\" I managed to push a question out through the clouds of confusion that tore my mind to shreds.\n\nHe ignored it. The black sunglasses found their way to his face again, covered his eyes and all the horrors they held.\n\n\"You're a man with good intentions...\" he lamented, \"which is why I didn't pull the trigger the moment you peered into my soul.\"\n\nSameness.\n\n\"My higher ups will give me a lot of shit for this, but it's my call to make. So heed my warning, stop answering the phone.\" He approached the door of my office, ready to leave. \"The world is much darker than you think it possible, don't test your luck...\"\n\nHe left me, and I stood in silence for what felt like hours. I didn't speak, I didn't move, I...oh God, what attrocities laid behind his eyes...\n\n\"I've seen nothing,\" I lied again over the phone.\n\nThe man on the other end, the one that took care of the monsters I found lurking and parading as humans, sighed.\n\n\"I accept your resignation,\" he answered before I managed to blurt a single word about it. \"Thank you for your cooperation thus far,\" he continued, \"and may God have mercy on your soul.\"\n\nToday, I saw nothing...\n", "I froze for a minute.\n\nI've seen some sick things in my career. A given when you're a eye doctor. But; I have a gift you see. They say eyes are the door to the soul. I've seen some very sick souls. The most unassuming people can do the ugliest things.\n\nI've seen massacres committed in war. I've seen people left to die. I've seen people... Use others... for things I'd rather forget.\n\nAnd yet, I've seen the care, and the love that others bring. Those that take care of those around them. It's this that has kept me, a worn down eye doctor, so keen of the human spirit. We're capable of so much evil, but also so much kindness.\n\nBut this... This wasn't right.\n\nHe seemed normal enough when he came in. Actually, for some reason; I had a surreal feeling of respect for him. Young compared to my years, he seemed to be a man in the prime of his life. He shook my hand with a almost knowing comfort. He was at ease to be in such a place, let alone to have his eyes examined. As he sat in the chair, we laughed about things I usually don't, especially at work. The exam took some time, and throughout it all, we talked randomly about the high and lows of a lot of things society has to offer.\n\nFast food, bad weather, climate change, politics, his views from being mixed... It's funny what you learn about another's side of things if you let them talk.\n\nAnd so far, things had been good.\n\nBut then... We locked eyes. I realized, I hadn't looked him directly in his face despite my efforts. You can't read everyone I'm afraid. Either, there's not enough there. Or they can hide it much better than others.\n\nI can't understand it all.\n\nThe poverty as a child. Men in expensive suits. Duffel bags and briefcases, full of everything imaginable. The beatings. The beatings taken. All the driving. The phone calls. Late nights, and the middle of the day. The murders. The funerals he's had to attend. When bodies were buried. How he'd disposed of them. The money he's given to the homeless. The care he'd given the elderly, and the sick at a shelter he regularly attended. His sister, mother, and father who he'd cared for. He promised them a better life, and through all this violence of his, he'd mastered it. Death was nothing to him.\n\nHe didn't blink. I didn't realize it, but he hadn't blinked after I quit moving.\n\n\"Take a picture, it'll last longer.\" He spoke amiably. In my haste to recover, I dropped my tools on the floor and quickly began recovering them. If only so I didn't have to see anymore.\n\n\"I know it's hard.\" He spoke again.\n\nWhat?\n\n\"Seeing someone like me.\"\n\n\"Someone like you...\" I had to look at him again. And it flooded back again, causing me to avert my gaze again.\n\n\"Yep. That's it. I know.\" He explained, \"It's not easy to deal with someone like me. I try to be nice to people I don't know. It's a common courtesy. Everybody has their own issues.\"\n\n\"You... You're a monster.\" I blurted. I remembered I had to keep my voice down, but it was hard.\n\n\"...I know.\" He shrugged, \"This life isn't for you, you know that right?\"\n\nWhat was this??\n\n\"I mean, this wasn't your thing. Optometry, eye doctor. I don't know which you prefer more, name-wise. Um, Garth? That's your name right? You wanted to be a astronaut. As a kid I mean.\"\n\n\"How do you know that? What are you??\"\n\n\"Oh please, doc. My mother had the same gift. It's hereditary. You have a nice family, who'd love to spend more time with you. My advice; retire. You have grandkids on the way, no sense in a dude like you having to work yourself to death. Leave that to men like me.\"\n\n\"I see.\"\n\n\"I do too. A lot better actually. So when's my next appointment?\"\n\n\"Um... Is February o-okay sir?\" I stammered. I must've been shaking like a leaf, as he came over and clasped my shoulder lightly.\n\n\"That's fine with me. Listen, this gift isn't for everybody, is it?? You have a good one alright? Please, go see your kids, okay?\"\n\nWe shook hands, and as he left the room, I felt a need to sit down and cry. Not out of grief. I'm just thankful to be alive.\n\nMen like him don't have souls.\n\n---\n\nr/Jamaican_Dynamite", "// Part 1 - //Part 2 has been added, a reply to this post.\n\nIt comes in flashes. Sins and generosity, humanity and cruelty. One or two. Monster or angel. But perhaps that's too simple.\n\nI've seen fathers do unspeakable horrors to their children. Mothers laugh as she swings the hammer down. Salesmen watching a family drive off in a vehicle they know won't brake in time. Watching the string tied around their arm release so the dope sends them off into space. A brother sit in a bathtub and cry, unable to forgive himself for skipping his sister's funeral.\n\nBut it's not all bad.\n\nI've seen a man who builds model trains with his son. A daughter who visits her aunt at the retirement home, bringing her favorite dessert. Countless kindnesses and countless evils. It's always been this way. Something about the eye has always drawn me. So it serves well as a life's work.\n\nThey sit in the chair. My assistant gives the normal tests, look at the balloon, press the button when you see that wiggle on the screen, try not to freak the fuck out from the little puff of air directly into the eye.\n\nThen one on one. \n\nStare into the eye. Watch the pupil dilate from light.\n\nThen the rush. Like watching a movie sped up to an almost infinite scroll, flashes of color and meaning. Coldness, happiness, sadness, pain, arrogance. Every one different.\n\nToday is a new patient. \n\nTall, well built. A well tailored suit. Expensive watch. He moves quickly, nervously. Black hair slicked with a tasteful tinge of grey on either side.\n\nHe doesn't smile, doesn't respond to any prods for small talk. He merely gives minimal patient information. In a rush, presumably.\n\nOne glance, and for the first time the movie plays for far too long. A being in a plane of existence of unimaginable beauty, a sudden rush and crash through the earth, the crunch and scrape of metal into a black pit of hell fire. Tortures, horrible and gratuitous, grotesque faces pleading for mercy. A walk through a realm of dreams, a conversation with a young man. \n\nThe movie changes. A semi-normal life. A father who survives a terminal illness. Then dying animals. A dog trapped in an air tight box with a single tiny hole. A knife slick with blood. Fear. So much fear.\n\nA trade, he gave a trade, fair and honest. \n\nNow the voice of a boy.\n\n\"Help,\" weak and feeble. A soul trapped but unable to grow or mature. Trapped in a different realm.\n\nStagger back.\n\nThe man cocks his head.\n\n\"Something wrong?\"\n\nI can only stare. Blankness, too far away. Devoid of emotion, but filled with ambition. Something wrong. \n\nHead cocks in a different direction.\n\nRecognition.\n\nA trade. A fair trade. Always a price to pay for power. Or a favor.\n\nRemember your own trade. No. Fuck that I don't want to.\n\nDjinns or genies or demons or succubi, they come for those who can smell in their dreams, feel mountains and drink from skulls. What about yours, asshole, what about yours?\n\nWhat did you give?\n\nNo matter. The man has stood, not offering help but clearly suspicious.\n\nAll I can manage, \"I know your kind.\"\n\nNow he smiles. Too wide, teeth almost imperceptibly filed.\n\n\"It would be better if you hadn't, boy.\"\n\nThere's nothing else to do. Fight or die.\n\n\nPlease let me know if you would like me to continue, and please provide any criticism you can!\n\n--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\nr/storiesfromapotato" ]	6
	[WP] As you go to bed one night you hear a loud bang and see a flash of light. Go when you wake in the morning your dog asks, "Can you understand me now?"	[ "\"Can you understand me now?\"\n\nI paused, my brain slowly trying to unravel what had just transpired.\n\n\"Ugh, I guess not, oh well, see you at breakfast I guess.\" Fido turned around and made towards the door. As I stared I realized that this was probably one of those things that needed attention.\n\n\"Fido!\" He turned, \"I...er....yes I...can...hear you.\"\n\n\"Oh okay, that's fine, I....\" His eyes widened. \"Oh. Ohhhh\" We both just kind of stood there awkwardly for a while, staring at each other.\n\n\"So\" Fido eventually said. \"You wanna, go have breakfast?\" \n\n______________________________________________________\n\n\"So, gotta be honest, I was kind of not expecting this one to work\"\n\nI was tucking into one hard boiled egg and some bacon, half of which I had split with my obviously smarter than I had given him credit for dog. \n\n\"This stuff is great by the way, guess it felt kind of awkward giving me the crap stuff, right?\" He awkwardly chuckled, then stopped when he realized I wasn't going along with him. Not that that had anything to do with what he just said, mind you, I was still just kind of trying to process that my dog was talking.\n\n“Look, you don’t have to talk, just listen, alright?”\n\nOh thank God.\n\n“You’re probably pretty surprised by the fact that I can talk, before you ask, yes I could always talk, it’s only now that you can understand me.” I nodded dumbly. “Basically the reason I’m doing this now is because there’s been a disturbance and it’s gotten to the point where we can no longer settle this without intervention from your kind. I don’t know how much you know about the karmic balancing between cats and dogs and how while our natures are contradictory it’s ultimately the conflict between us that maintains the balance in the human soul and allows civilization to flourish, however recently there was a move by the cat’s that left us totally blind sighted. What remained of our members launched a vicious counter-attack, and now things have continued to escalate from there. I’m going against my prime directive to contact you because I believe that should things continue in this manner there may be permanent ramifications that would not only be the ruin our species but yours too. I’m aware this is a risk but I need immediate contact with your highest leaders, it’s my hope that through working together we can resolve a peace before it’s too late. I will be grateful for any assistance and will provide any assistance you might need to this effect. Do you have any questions?”\n\nHe stopped talking and was staring at me. I realised he expected me to say something.\n\n“You...don't like the food I give you?”\n\nThe dog sighed.\n\n", "Yawn…\n\nWake wakey time...don’t want to.. Oh well.\n\nAlarm clock? Alarm clock. Snooze? No.\n\nUp and at em Danny-boy. Who calls themselves name-boy anymore? Oh well.\n\nBreakfast...breakfast.. but first, feed the dog.\n\n“Hey!” says Harry the black lab.\n\n“What the fuck.” I respond.\n\n“So, can you hear me? “\n\nI rub my eyes in confusion. This is a very strange dream. When will I wake up?\n\n“Nope”, says Harry. “Not dreaming”.\n\nHe’s snarky too. Absolutely perfect.\n\n“Okay”, I say hesitantly. “What do you want?”\n\n“Breakfast.”\n\nAfter we both eat breakfast, I take Harry out for a walk. He’s still basically the same lovable squirrel-chasing dog. Admittedly, his squirrel chasing is much more entertaining now that I can hear him cursing at them. On the other hand, he seems much more athletic than usual. He caught most of the squirrels.\n\nWe reach the park, and I throw Harry’s ball. Harry sprints after the ball, then leaps up. He runs perpendicular to the ground halfway up a tree, muscles pumping furiously, then leaps sideways into the air. Harry catches the ball whilst doing a frontflip just for show, he lands ecstatic on the ground.\n\n“DID YOU SEE THAT, DID YOU SEE THAT !?!?!” shouts the dog, before picking up his ball and sprinting towards me. \n\n“I saw it. Do you think anyone else can hear you, or just me?”\n\nWe both look around. Everyone else in the park is staring at us. A little old lady has dropped both her poop-bag and her pooper-scooper.\n“Well that answers that question. We should go.” I say.\n\nBack at home, the Dog and I have begun a game of poker. I’m not good at gambling, but I must say, it’s much easier when your opponent has a mood indicator and no thumbs.\n\nJust then, a group of heavily armed soldiers burst into the room.\n\n“Save yourself!” I yell at Harry. Obediently, he flees the room. They’ll never catch him.\n\n*******************************************************************************************************\nI’ve been in prison for three months. They interrogate me every day. How did my dog learn to talk? Where is he? Was it the aliens? Was it poseidon?\n\nI did my best to stay strong, but it was no use. I’ve finally given up. No one's coming for me.\n\nBut, a sound!\n\nI peek through the bars of my window, and catch a glimpse of a furry fireball of tooth and claw smashing through my guards.\n\nHarry cleverly picks the lock with one of his claws, and leaps into my arms, tail wagging frantically.\n\nBut now soldiers are pouring into the room, dozens of them. They raise their guns, and for a moment we all stare at each other.\n\n“Okay”, said Harry. \n\n“Who’s seen John Wick?”\n\nOne of the soldiers raised his hand nervously.\n\n“So this is gonna be sorta like that.”\n\n(Good old fashioned fun. r/StannisTheAmish if you're interested.)\n", "Meanwhile, in The Land Where All The Writing Prompts Are Simultaneously True:\n\n----\n\n\"Can you understand me now?\" the dog asked.\n\n\"Yes,\" I said. \"Just like I could yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that.\"\n\n\"Good,\" the dog said.\n\n\"So,\" I asked, \"what was with that loud bang and flashing light from last night? Aliens invade again?\"\n\n\"No,\" the dog said, \"that was one of the raccoons, possessed by the spirit of Alfred Nobel.\"\n\n\"Wait,\" I said, \"Nobel-prize Nobel, that Nobel?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" the dog explained, \"he also invented dynamite.\"\n\n\"Ah,\" I said. \"That explains that, then.\"\n\n\"So,\" the dog said, \"should we head out?\"\n\nI sighed. \"You know what I miss about Spokane?\"\n\n\"Well,\" the dog said, \"probably not the weather.\"\n\n\"No,\" I said. \"I miss normal. I miss when I didn't run into Satan on a daily basis, or when God wasn't the waiter at the coffeeshop. I miss when alien interactions weren't so common that the traffic report includes them every day, because while humans are inexplicably good at some random damn thing for no good reason, they're always terrible at traffic. I miss animals that were just animals!\"\n\nThe dog gasped. \"You... you don't mean that!\"\n\n\"No,\" I said, \"No, sorry, I just didn't get much sleep because of Nobel. You're my talking dog / cop partner. We trace down a disproportionately large number of serial killers that are always somehow one step ahead of us. I couldn't do that without you!\"\n\n\"You realize,\" the dog said, \"that there's almost no possible way that we're not* the serial killers in question.\"\n\nI sighed. \"I know. Come on, let's go before Heisenberg in the guise of a polar bear shows up and tries to steal my car.\"\n" ]	3
I found this on Imgur, and really want to read a story based off this.	[WP] Everything is black and white until you meet your soulmate, additionally when your soulmate dies, the world goes back to black and white.	[ "My mother always told me about the beautiful colors, how they make this world so much more liveable, like everything just made sense. She told me that one day, I'd meet the person whod make the wait to see the colors worth it. As a kid, the magic of meeting that someone was inspiring, even thinking about it would make a smile creep onto my face. \n\nBut now, as a 24 year old, I still haven't seen the colors, haven't met that person. I was losing hope, knowing all my friends and colleagues met theirs around 16/17. Yet here I was, a man without color. A man without purpouse really. \n\nA car speeding past me shook me out of my thoughts, my radar detector in my cruiser registering the vehicle going 15 over the speed limit. I sighed, put my cruiser in drive and pursued the car in the rainy April day. \n\nI pulled the car over, and ran the plate. The bright lights of the cruiser bounced off the buildings, cars, and the wet ground in front of me. I wondered what the lights looked like in color. \n\nThe other officers tried to describe what blue and red looked like, but how can you describe a color? It's damn near impossible, and how the hell would I know? Not like I've seen anything besides black and white. \n\nI walked towards the car, cautious and wet, feeling the rain soak through my coat. Just what I needed. The window rolled down on the car as I approached. \n\n\"Good evening sir I'm... Woah\"\n\nI was taken aback. Color, it flashed over like lightening on a black night. The red and blue of the lightbar, the neons of the store signs, green of the traffic light up ahead. I lost my breath, my vision almost blurring from the bliss of seeing the colors for the first time. \n\n\"It's magical!\" The man called from the car, snapping me back into reality. \n\nHe was beautiful, his blonde hair, eyes a lighter blue than my cruisers lights, not to mention the beautiful smile he flashed. \n\n\"Th-that means we-were...\" I started. \"soulmates\" he finished. \n\nHe stepped out of his car. \"I'm Tristan\" he said, extending his hand. \n\n\"I waited 24 years to meet you, I'm hugging you.\" I said, pulling the man into a hug. \"I'm Tony by the way\"\n\n\"Nice to meet you!\" He said, obviously strained from the bear hug I was giving him. \n\nI pulled away from the hug. \n\"My shift is over in an hour, wanna grab dinner? Seems we have a lot of life to catch up on.\" \n\n\"I'd love nothing more\"\n\n\n____________________________________________\n\n\nIn the past two years, I've never been happier. Life made sense, the colors, like my mother said, just made more vibrant, enjoyable, simple. \n\nThe blue of a clear sky, the dark red of Tristan's car, the black and brown of our German Shepherd, and all the in between I was able to share with Tristan was bliss. \n\nLife was perfect, I had my soulmate, my dream job, a house, and a dog. A picturesque life, and I wouldn't want it any other day. \n\n____________________________________________\n\nThe day I refuse to speak about started as any other, sharing a breakfast together and quick steals of kisses, getting ready for work, and leaving at almost the same time. \n\nKissing Tristan goodbye, I made my way to my cruiser, starting my shift. Today was a special day, our three year anniversary. Nothing was going to shake the feeling of joy that spread across my face. \n\nTo say the shift was dragging would be an understatement, I've had to chase three people, one of which ended with me getting soaked in a puddle. But still, shift was almost over, and I was going to have a fantastic dinner with the man I love. My phone vibrated in my pocket, and, not surprisingly was Tristan\n\nTristan <3 : On my way to the restaurant, message you when I'm there. Love you!\n\nI quickly typed out a reply, and put the phone back into my pocket, waiting for the light to turn green. \n\nI was following a blue truck, he rolled past a stop sign two blocks back, and I was running his plate to see what was going on. I looked down to my computer to see the report. Came back clean, so I had no reason to pull him over. I looked back up, and my heart dropped into my stomach. \n\nThe blue of the truck was suddenly grey, the sky grey, everything grey. This couldn't be happening, no, not to me. \n\nMy breathing was labored, my vision blurred again, I was sweating. He couldn't be dead, how? \n\n\"Any available unit and 836, motor vehicle collision reported at the corner of Danbury road and Alameda Court, report of a red car on it's roof...\" \n\nMy hearing was all but ringing, only hearing the thud of my heartbeat. A small tear escaped my eye, dripping to my pants.\n\nI shifted in my seat and turned on the lights and sirens, ignoring the feeling of the Velvet box in my pocket feeling like a brick...", "I truly didn't understand what they meant when they referenced the color of the sky, or how beautiful roses were. They all looked the same to me. Not like they were ugly, but I also wouldn't have described them as beautiful. \n\n\n\nEverything in my life was black and white. \n\n\n\nUntil that day at the park. I was just having my usual Monday sandwich when I looked to my right. A beautiful, young, brunette woman was walking her dog. \n\n\n\n\"Wait! Brunette! I can see colors!\" I shouted at myself as I stared at her. I couldn't tell if she had heard me or read my thoughts. But she stopped on her tracks when she saw me and her eyes spread wide open.\n\n\n\nThe colors started forming around her. Brilliant colored dress. And some other colored shoes. The ground seemed kinda in between black and white. Then the grass changed into it's own color. The trees. The birds. The sky. Oh my god the sky was beautiful. \n\n\n\nIt was my first time seeing colors. Now I understood what everyone meant. And although the world was way more dazzling in color, nothing was more astonishing than her. The love of my life. My soulmate. \n\n\n\nShe continued walking towards me and introduced herself. \"Hi,\" she said in a low hush tone. \n\n\n\n\"Hello,\" I said and I was about to extend my arm I realized it was full of mayo. I cleaned it off on my pants and she chuckled. Then I stood up and shook her hand. \"I'm Mark\". \n\n\n\n\"Alyssa\" she said as she shook my hand and brush her hair away with a slight smile.\n\n\n\n\"These...these colors are something else aren't they?\" I said, gesturing to the world around us but really just wanting to make conversation with her. \n\n\n\n\"They are!\" she said, almost more comfortably and excited. \n\n\n----- \n\nThat was a year ago and it happened right here. Where I was sitting right now. We have been dating happily ever since. The happiest and most colorful year of my life. Not just literally, but emotionally as well. \n\n\n\nMe, as a man of habit, still came to the park every Monday for my lunch break to eat my sandwich. \n\n\n\nThe sky looked ever more vibrant today. The sun was shiny and the birds were singing. Now I knew green from blue and red from yellow. But then all of a sudden the sky turned grey. \n\n\n\n\"Weird, didn't realize it was supposed to rain today,\" I whispered to myself. Then as my glance turned down I realized that it wasn't just the sky. The trees. My heart sank. I dropped my sandwich and felt a rush of pain. \n\n\nEveryone and everything...was back to black and white. " ]	2
	[WP] I heard you on the radio, I couldn't help but smile	[ "James nods at the screener’s signal to wrap up when the caller shakily calls out his name. First timers are always a bit clingy but he’s is in a good mood this morning and they’re ahead of schedule so there is an extra minute before commercial cut. Plus, it’s an old guy in a nursing home for God’s sake, something something easy karma. So he greets back cheerfully, “Yes! Bobby man!”\n \n“James, you sound like a nice guy.”\n \n“Right back at you! We did have a nice chat. Though to go on the record I hate your gut for being a Crow’s fan and tonight we storm you guys to the ground, paint the town red and gold and all will be well,” He jokes, waving his tiny flags. Doesn't matter that no-one’s there to see. \n \nThe old guy chuckled, “When I heard you on the radio, I couldn’t help but smile. You made it.”\n \n“Awwhooo, I will take that compliment.” Screener signals again, James rolls his eyes and puts the flags down, ok ok we will cut, “But don’t get sentimental. That will not earn you any pity point. Now seeing that it’s four pm on gameday and--” \n \n“I just want you to know… I’m sorry. About Beth, your mum. I--,” Bobby chokes out on the other end. \n \nJames can feel the bottom of his stomach drops out. His finger freezes on the button.\n\n“I- was in so much pain and I didn’t know. I wasn’t myself,” Bobby continues but James can't hear the words. His head feels like it’s submerged underwater and the air has turn icy. A sharp click and the screener stands up this time, frowning at him. \n\nJames walks out. Dusty motel room. The New Year heatwave. Him waiting for his mother to wake up so they can go to vending machine together. Red swims in his vision. " ]	1
	[WP] Everyone has their own magic, and when you're 18 you get to assign a quality to it. Most people pick things like heat, strength etc. You however accidentally pick "Friendliness"	[ "Police sirens blared in the background as I made my way down the dark alleyway. Upon my instructions, the department's light mage had placed glowing white orbs scattered about the crime scene. Why do these types of crimes always occur in the dead of night?\n\n\"Sir,\" the two men specializing in shielding magic saluted me. I gave the guards a nod as I passed the barrier (police tape is useless these days). My footsteps came to halt. I let out a breath in my cupped hands over my mouth. It's still cold! I hate it when my orders aren't followed. It's like a machine. How can you expect it works when one of the cogs aren't moving? (I mean, I could have a mage with a mechanic or temporal quality, but it's the principle that matters). \n\nIt's times like these where I wished I hadn't given my winter coat to Jim from accounting just because he accidentally burned his with his acid magic. A hoodie isn't enough to sustain a person in the middle of winter. \n\n\"Hey.\" I call out to the guards from behind, my tone possessing the nature of an ice mage. I was going to ask them why they didn't collaborate with the fire mage in setting up a temperature control attribute to the barrier. \n\nBut then a sudden jolt overwhelmed me. \"Keep up the good work you two!\" I say through a forced smile. I immediately turned around and started walking again. I kept my frown hidden from my underlings. I hate it when that happens. Now isn't the time to boost morale, dammit!\n\nThe moment you turn 18, you must assign a \"Quality\" to your magic - to personify it; specialize it. This pretty much sets your possible career options. The memory of my Quality Ritual 6 years ago still makes me cringe inwardly. I had planned on assigning \"Death\" as my magic, but...I made a mistake. An accident really, and it isn't bad per say. The side effect of picking your Quality is that it's also integrated into your personality. It varies from person to person, however. You could have one fire mage with a temper matching a raging inferno. While another one could be as calm as a gentle candle. \n\nMy overall personality has changed significantly. For starters, most people would think I was joking when I told them I used to hate the world and wanted everyone dead. Now, I'm just annoyed inwardly most if the time.\n\nHer eyes were void of emotion as I brushed a hand over her eyelids. Dead people were a stomach-churning sight for most people. It's vomit inducing once you realize that said dead person was a murder victim. Sigh, good thing I'm a detective. \n\n\"Uh...s-so I'm s-supposed to put her in the body bag?\" Steve, the new guy, pointed at the victim with a floating meat sack behind him. Huh, gravity magic has its uses. From how he was so jittery, I can tell that he's still not used to crime scenes. I don't blame the guy, it happens to everyone...well except for me. \n\nI placed a hand on his shoulder and applied my magic. \"Calm down, breathe. Don't worry, I'll tell you when to do it. Relax.\" \n\nSteve's shoulders slouched. \"Yeah, you're right. Thanks, detective.\"\n\nI knelt over and inspected the corpse. Multiple stab wounds - signs of torture - but what put a lump in my throat was the fact that she was grinning like a madman. I stared at the brick wall a couple feet away from the body and grimaced at the bloody message on the wall.\n\nIt's their calling card.\n\nSon of a bitch! This is the third person this week!\n\n\"Pack the body and send it to the morgue for inspection.\" I waved a hand over Steve.\n\n\"Sir!\"\n\nI rubbed my temples. That fucking psychopath hasn't let down. Who's the next victim? A child? A parent? Fucking hell. \n\nI stared at the calling card one more time. There had to be a hidden message to find them!\n\n\"SHE DIDN'T WANT TO BE MY FRIEND?! THAT'S OKAY, I'LL FIND ANOTHER FRIEND, THEY'RE EVERYWHERE :D\"\n\nBeing a leader was too much work.\n", "You ever heard the saying \"Kill'em with kindness\"? Well, that's been my life for the past few years.\n\nYeah sure, it started as a slip up. I wanted what everyone wanted for their magic: something powerful and easy to control like Fire and stuff. But it was like misclicking on the Internet when I went up, and ever since then I've been the first ever Amica Magus in history.\n\nSure, it sucked at first. Usual bullies who got all the fancy shmancy magics teased me for my mistake, and none of the teachers had ever heard of a student in the field of Friendly magic. I mostly had to learn to control my power on my own, and boy did it pay off when I mastered it. You see, Friendliness isn't just about being a nice guy: it's about winning the trust of others. And once you master Friendly magic? You can win the trust of anyone. Started out in school when everyone noticed that the bullies not only stopped picking on me, but actually invited me to hang out with them. Then, profs were giving me good grades because \"oh he's such a sweet heart\". Then, it was getting into bars and clubs at a young age because bouncers were \"feeling generous\" that night.\n\nSo what do you do, when you can get past any security detail, get close to anyone, no matter their importance in society, and can evade police attention because you're a nice guy? You get to be one of the world's top assassins, able to eliminate any target the same day that he accepts the contract.\n\nIt always felt weird for me to smile while my target drinks the poisoned wine I brought them, but I eventually got used to it. What's great is that I practically never need to plan my hits: All I need is a location and I'm good to go. A little guard sweet talk, some friendly discussion with hotel staff, a little...privacy, with some mansion maids, and I can be anywhere near my target. The only hard part about my job is deciding how I want to kill them. Even leaving the scene is easy. When authorities arrive I give them the good old \"Oh I'm just visiting an old friend. You understand, don't you?\" and they send me on my merry way. No one can escape me, and more often than not they are happy to see me.\n\nMy name is Isaac Amigo. I am the only Amica Magus in the world, and the greatest assassin in history. We should grab coffee sometime." ]	2
	[WP] It's your first day on the job as a police officer. You are playing around with your radar gun when it clocks in at 125 mph. The only problem: you were aiming at a brick wall.	[ "Arthur was not supposed to fry PD equipment so soon.\n\n\nOf course, that was somewhat inevitable. The Conduit inside of him had the energy of a raging storm. Anything bigger than a small flashlight tended to go haywire near him, if he wasn't very careful. His life had taken a turn towards the strange since he gained it, but after all that time at the academy this was his job.\n\nThe radar was at max, and the wall he was pointing was furiously static. He figured that something on his hands fried the circuit, but a change of direction showed that the gun still worked.\n\nThe wall was there, hiding his car from the highway. Most drivers were morose today, early monday morning beating down on their hearts. Every time Arthur brushed the thing with his gun generated a loud beep and a 999 timer.\n\n\"Well that's weird\" he said. He was tempted to thump the thing with his hand, but that would most likely blow out the fuse completely.\n\nHe sighed, and rested his hand against the wall.\n\nImmediatly, he was sucked into a shining tube of light.\n\n\nArthur screamed, dropping the radar gun and instinctively generating winds to slow his fall. It was no use however, as he was pulled through the light by a force greater than his own storm. \n\n\nHe fell, and as he moved he heard a very loud and deep voice, that seemed to come from the light itself:\n\n\"ARTHUR SUNDERLAND, THE COUNCIL WOULD HAVE WORDS WITH YOU\"", "God, I thought being out in the field would be an adventure, not this... Chiefs got me on Baker Street covering a playground speed trap. ‘Gee Chief, I wonder how fast this brick wall is going??’ 125mph. \n\nWait... 125mph? I check the settings, now which button resets? Ugh, I know we covered this in class… I hold the blue blinking light down and hit the yellow one... \n\nOk time to check again, I hold out and face the street. This guy’s doing 27 in a school zone… I let it slide.\n\nRumbling… I hear rumbling. From where? I point my radar gun from the origin of the sound: the brick wall of the school.\n\nTrepidaciously, I walk up to the wall. The rumble invades my ears as I stand up to the simple brick-and-mortar wall.\n\n“How fast was it going”, a child asks nonchalantly… wait, who the hell is this kid?\n\n“Most officers their first day usually ignore it, let it slide to faulty mechanics. And go back to their lives. Go back to their wife’s, and children.” The kid emphasizes the last bit too much for my liking. Yeah kid, we took lessons on intimidation too.\n\nI’m at the wall of the school now, dusty old red brick. The rumbling is almost deafening at this point. One more time, for safeties sake, I tell myself, I check the radar. 125mph. \n\n\"It’s your funeral\", says the kid, crisply clearly in my ears through the rumble. He saunters away, arms folded behind his back. I don’t follow.\n\nI go to touch the wall… it’s solid, but something feels wrong. It’s like... a door, a sliding door. Track that don’t exist make waves and the brick splits, unlocking whatever dark secret is on the other side.\n\nI don’t know if I can explain quite effectively what was there. I was... a cosmic highway. Lights and scenery washing past at 125 miles. The rumbling, were these… wheels? Giant wheels under my feet, rolling through an interstellar tide, cycling through our worlds: Life, Love, Passion, Death spinning and spinning like the wheels on a bus. Not a bus. A cargo truck. A semi full of livestock on the way to the inevitable slaughterhouse.\n\nThe world spins and I’m returned to the patrol car. I wonder to myself that maybe the radar gun was faulty anyways, it only has three digits… according to google the surface of the earth turns at 1,000 mph and rotates around the sun at 67,000 mph. Sonofabitch, in a school zone no less. I click on my lights, think about my wife and our newborn at home... and race to catch up.\n", "I looled at the screen - 125 mph.\n\n\"Oh shit\" I thought, as I was well ware this gun had never failed me, I had it for years.\n\nI looked off the screen and saw... nothing. I couldn't have possible seen anything as the bricks were covering my eyes comoletely and by the time you, the reader, understands what happened, they would have long drilled into my face with the extreme force that only a brick at 125 mph can deliver.\n\nWould have. Good thing my life ended so long ago.", "Officer Gonzales is a rookie cop who doesn't play by the rules. Since the day he was born, clocking out of his mother at 125 miles per hour, he learned the hard way there's nobody you can depend on in this world. They always leave you behind.\n\nBorn on the road with the wind in his face, and 125 miles of land an hour behind him, Gonzalez knew he was special. He knew he was meant for something more than this life on the road. Always on the move, never a friend to keep up with him, he traveled the world alone.\n\nIt wasn't until his 18th birthday, when he sped past a police Academy around the Texan borde, that he knew he had found his calling.\n\nOnward he sped, Radar gun aimed ahead, he narrowly avoided a brick wall in his pursuit of some hooligans on the run from the law.\n\"Damnit Gonzales\" Chief called over his radio, yelling at him from his shoulder. \"Watch it son! Last thing we need is you spattered all over town!\"\n\nIt was hard to hear over the wind rushing to follow him. At 125mph, Gonzalez was the fastest cop alive. Breaking records left and right, and flying through the police academy at break-neck speed.\n\n\"Sorry Chief,\" he reassured, exhaling smoke from his cigarette, his voice came out hoarse and rugged. Gonzalez lowered his sunglasses, keeping the wind out of his eyes, and giving him a better picture of the assailants ahead.\n\n\"But these guys cant run from the law.\" He finished his cigarette in one hit. Smoke ripped through the air around him as he continued his pursuit. Crafty fuckers. They knew so long as they maintained their speed at 126mph, he couldn't touch 'em.\n\nBut they didn't know the streets like he did. They didn't have to grow up fending for themselves. Life was hard enough on his own, especially hard on a kid speeding through life as fast as he did.\n\n\"Shit\" Gonzalez spat, he just sped through a red light. Chief's gonna have an earful for him when he got back. This always got to him the worst. Breaking one law to stop someone from breaking another. It made him sick. Where did it end?\n\nLucky for him, there's one law he has no problem breaking. As he and his catch turned around a bend, they slowed, but he maintained. Never falling behind, always moving forward, Gonzalez had em now.\n\n\"POLICE!\" he shouted, now facing the drivers' window. Looking into the tinted reflection of himself, he continued \"PULL OVER, NOW!\" But onward they sped, so onward he pursued.\n\nThe criminal crashed through some traffic cones. One flew upward, smacking Officer Gonzalez so hard, he cursed the day he was born. His sunglasses shattered from the impact. Revealing the eyes of a cold-blooded predator.\n\n'He's tryin' to lose me in all this construction. He couldn't be heading for...' He looked ahead as the road winded upward, inclining to an interstate on-ramp still under construction. 'If he makes that jump...'\n\nGonzalez drew his gun. He had to stop them here. Now. He's only had to fire his weapon once. The bullets he fired had an extra 125mph punch to em, making him the fastest and deadliest cop alive.\n\n'One shot, you can do it, you can-'\n\n\"GONZALEZ!\" Chief's voice broke out, but it was too late. The bridge ended under him, and the two flew forward toward the unfinished on-ramp ahead.\n\nHe reacted with lightning speed, rolling over and atop the car, he aimed his gun forward and fired one bullet.\n\nThe car stopped mid air, the force from his bullet kicked back against the cars' momentum forward. It folded in on itself, like an accordion, and fell down to the ground below.\n\nGonzalez sped onward. Never looking back. Always moving forward.\n\n\"Good work gonza-\" was all he heard as he sped past his chief, and the rest of the station, still applauding him for his efforts. 'Let em applaud' he thought bitterly, wishing he could join them, if only for a moment.\n\nBut Gonzalez had better places to be, and at 125MPH, he could only dish out so much on his own. He had one purpose in life, something only he could do. Only he could catch it. He'd never stop chasing after it. Not til the day he dies. The day he became a corpse circling the world at 125mph.\n\nJustice.", "Due to extensive research done by the University of Pittsburgh, diamond has been confirmed as the hardest metal known to man. The research is as follows:\n\nPocket-protected scientists built a wall made of iron and crashed a diamond car into it at 400 miles per hour, and the car was unharmed. They then built a wall out of diamond and crashed a car made of iron moving at 400 miles an hour into the wall, and the wall came out fine. They then crashed a diamond car made of 400 miles per hour into a wall, and there were no survivors. They crashed 400 miles per hour into a diamond travelling at iron car. Western New York was powerless for hours. They rammed a wall made of metal into 400 miles an hour made of diamond, and the resulting explosion shifted earths orbit 400 million miles away from the sun, saving the earth from a meteor the size of a small Washington suburb that was hurtling towards mid-western Prussia at 400 billion miles an hour. They shot a diamond made of iron at a car moving at 400 walls per hour, and as a result caused over 10000 wayward planes to lose track of their bearings, and make a fatal crash with over 10000 buildings in downtown New York. They spun 400 miles at diamond into iron per wall. The results were inconclusive. Finally, they placed 400 diamonds per hour in front of a car made of wall travelling at miles per iron, and the result proved with out a doubt that diamonds were the hardest metal of all time, if not just the hardest metal known to man.\n\n", "I was eager to finally be out in the field on my own. Traffic duty may not be the most glamorous job on the force, but in my opinion it was the most thrilling- it's fast paced (literally), and you never know what you'll encounter.\n\nFirst thing in the morning, I was told to post up at a new school zone to catch speeders. Yawn. Although, I was excited to use my radar gun in a real world situation. I found an inconspicuous place to park my patrol car. It was an alley between the elementary school's fence and shopping plaza next door. The brick wall to my left blocked me from the view of would-be speeders. It was perfect.\n\nThe scheduled time for the school zone was coming to an end, and I didn't see one car that seemed to even come close to approaching 25 mph. I guess this is a nice neighborhood full of cautious drivers. I sighed, and out of boredom, aimed my radar gun through my driver window at the brick wall. To my surprise, the gun read 125 mph. I tried it again - same thing. I called up the station.\n\n\"Hey, uh, I think there's a problem with my radar gun. It's-\"\n\n\"Yeah yeah,\" the voice on the other end cut me off, \"You got one of the old ones. They tend to glitch up after a while. Come on back and we'll get you a new one.\"\n\nI drove to the station and got a new radar gun. Turns out mine was broken, and nothing supernatural was happening. In fact, that didn't even cross my mind. The new one works great!" ]	6
	[WP] One day, you find you've inherited several computers that come from at least 300 years in the future.	[ "\"Yes, I know that it can crack every encryption scheme the NSA can throw at it in less than a second, but what I want to know is can it play Doom?\" \nThe analyst paused, looked up from the terminal then replied, \"Doom is a 16 bit application from the 1990's there is no way that this machine which appears to be a 256 qbit quantum computing device could possibly run its code let alone interface with a floppy disk to get it installed.\" \n\"Move aside and let me try something.\" I grabbed my favorite model M keyboard said, \"Computer create PS/2 port.\" \nAfter a brief hum a circular purple and green port emerged from the front of the device. I slid the plug into the still warm port, fumbled with several keyboard shortcuts until a black and white terminal appeared, then entered a 4 letter command. \n\"Never underestimate the PC masterace.\" I gloated as a soldier in green amour blasting away at hoards of demons appeared on the screen.\" \n\n " ]	1
You are in an alleyway after being mugged, when s/he suddenly appears.	[WP] When superheroes die, they must pass their powers on to someone else. If they don't, the person who killed them gets those powers.	[ "\n\"I'm not your enemy!\" Jack said\n \n \n\n\"You murdered my dad!\" said the boy.\n \n \n\n\"I did, but you must see why.\" Jack said. \"I knew Wolf was about to die. Manson was about to kill him as he had so many. Wolf was the only super who could get past Manson's power of illusion. He was our last hope of being able to stop Manson.\" \n \n \n\n\"Our attack went wrong and Manson's holo-projections captured your father. The second he tried to pass me his powers, Manson would have killed him. So I did the only thing I could. I murdered him and saved his power, which I can now pass to you.\"\n \n \n\n\"Don't bother,\" said the boy. \"I was already born with his power. Let's go get him.\"" ]	1
	[WP] Your roommate goes to get a haircut. An hour later, they come home with an alpaca. The first thing they say to you is "I can explain..."	[ "Jack stood there in the living room holding his alpaca's reigns in one hand and feeding it bits of grass that he must have grabbed from the small patch in front of the apartment. \"Dude, what is that?\" I asked dumbfounded. \n\n\"It's a dog.\" he replied sarcastically. \"Bro, You know what it is.\" \n\n\"Okay, follow up question: why do you have a llama?\" \n\n\"First of all, it's an alpaca. I think you should know that.\" \n\n\"Same difference.\" \n\nHe scoffed, \"Um, actually it's not. I couldn't afford the llama.\" \n\n\"Just tell me why you have it.\" \n\n\"It is a girl, and her name is daisy.\" Daisy proceeded to lick his ear to which he giggled a little and patted her head. \" And I have her because I'm invested in our future.\"\n\n\"What is that supposed to mean!?\" \n\n\" Do you know how much this pretty ladies fleace goes for?\" \n\n\"You've got to be kidding me.\" \n\nJack stared at me looking very offended. \"That's not all! They're very intelligent you know. I even trained her on the train back here. Watch this.\" He snapped his fingers in front of her until she looked at him and pointed to the wall. \"Daisy attack!\" Daisy let out a screech and charged head first into the coffee table, shattering it in to a million pieces. Jack was beaming \"Good attack Daisy! Good girl! That was so good!\" \n\n\"She didn't even hit the wall.\" \n\n\"We're still working on her aim.\" \n\n" ]	1
	[WP] You are a dictator for hire. You assume (absolute) control of a government, help the economy and culture develop and by the end of your reign implement a democratic system, ending your own power. Write your portfolio.	[ "Portfolio: Intergalactic Dictatorial Services -\n\n\nCultural Education through progress, economic growth through careful investment, order and prosperity with minimal civilian casualties!\n\nName: N/A\nPlanet of Birth: Earth (Cradle of Humanity!)\nD.O.B: N/A\n\nPast Assignments: Local Cluster, Milky Way Galaxy, Local Systems Group\n\nPast Clients: United Nations Colonial Coalition, United Nations (Earth Government), Andromeda Mining Conglomerate\n\n--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nAssignment 1: United Nations (Earth Government)\n\nSpace Station Alpha - Titan Moon, Saturn - Duration - 6 Years\n\nCultural Progress - (Desired result, Liberal) Heavy funding into public education, encouraged scientific development and cohesive civilian training. Secondary funding into artistic development and popular entertainment. Endowments to literary groups, organized and facilitated artistic expression to profitable degree\n\nEconomic Progress - Redirection of spacecraft construction into civilian sector, asteroid mining and harvesting. Doubled mining capability in two years, created 37% market share within four. Central transport hub from Sol system to United Nations Worm Hole Gate I-XI. Near bottleneck for interstellar trade.\n\nMilitary Prosperity - Quietly and covertly crushed several fundamentalist religious groups (Earth religion - Christian, Orthodox Sect) and opposition group (Earth Culture - Atheist) Mass executions and spacing of evidence. Ran pro-Earth Government propaganda. Instituted Civilian Only police force, curbed deadly authoritarian incidents by 49% (see attached spreadsheet) Brought homicide rate down to lowest in Sol System.\n\n--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nAssignment 2: United Nations Colonial Coalition \n\nTerra Nova, Polonial System, Tucana Dwarf Galaxy -Duration, 12 years\n\nCultural Progress - (Desired result, militaristic) Heavy purges of intellectual groups. Identified pacifist sects and spread rumors of non-patriotism, destroying membership by 84%. Heavy censorship of free thinking media, running mindless, state sponsored entertainment with minimal civilian interaction. Introduced highly addictive drug compounds under state sponsorship and control. Population addiction around 79%. Democratic Representative Republic, however cultural enforcement relies heavily on one party, any other party dismissed as 'Unpatriotic' through false flag information attacks.\n\nEconomic Progress - Heavy spending in weapons development, primarily exo-planetary defenses and small arms manufacturing. All non-government weapon groups co-opted and bought out by local government. Additional investment in cyber-warfare equipment, primarily drives, servers, and sabotage software for export. Minimal interaction with any entities not under direct control by UNCC.\n\nMilitary Prosperity: All restrictions on military operations (Proportional response, civilian casualties, Geneva Convention rules of war (Earth Edition, 2218) lifted. Free reign on any and all dissenting groups. Heavy usage of indoctrination, cybernetic implants, and mass conscription. Mandatory military service (16-28) all civilians deemed potential subversion sources permanently sentenced to UNCC Naval Services, Space. Crime, political violence severely curbed. Cultural impact of propaganda (any potential subversion immediately reported, including parents by children) considered to have permanently broken population. \n\n--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nAssignment 3: Andromeda Mining Conglomerate\n\nLocal Cluster, Milky Way Galaxy, Andromeda System, AMC Civilian Housing Stations - 29 Years\n\nCultural Progress - (Desired Result - Corporate Culture) - Required indoctrination from childbirth. Nonstop usage of advertisements, subliminal and otherwise, to impress consumer and materialist culture. All images to show desired goals (Wealth, power, love, acceptance, etc.) to be the end result of purchase and economic success. Encourage ruthless competition by citizenry, greed = good cultural requirement. Wide spread corporate espionage encouraged. Corporate lifestyle keeps almost all citizens in constant state of servitude and docility.\n\nEconomic Progress - Virtually no taxation, few restrictions on investment. Almost no barrier to entry in marketplace. Alert - Monopolistic monitoring system in place, physical and covert intervention frequently required to encourage free market. Usage of corporate propaganda encourages free flow of money and goods, illegal in this system or otherwise. \n\nMilitary Prosperity - All armed forces 'controlled' by private entities, but with government checks in place. Focus on economic gain occasionally results in violent outbursts, but these are small and easily contained. Usage of assassins regulated by state, therefore non-problematic. Immediate and uncompromising eradication of any and all socialist groups, but cultural witch-hunting tendency often removes problem before it starts.\n\n--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nr/storiesfromapotato" ]	1
	[WP] Recent disasters in the ecosystem have made Captain Planet and the Planeteers take drastic measures.	[ "My first attempt at this, hope I'm not too horrid. (Note: edited to not tag on real world stuff as that may cause some issues)\n\nIt started simply enough, stop an eco-terrorist here, send them to jail, then repeat the process as they escaped justice given the word of 5 ring wielding teenagers were not an accepted policing force, nor was their supposed other wordly, azure hued Guardian of Earth.\n\nAnd then, one day that all changed with the murder of Hoggish Greedly, apparently suffocated as if the very air were ripped from his lungs. The Planeteers changed their tactics...drastically.\n\nThe next incident started with the disappearance of Looten Plunder, know billionaire businessman, exotic \"hunter\" and opponent to conservation efforts. Despite the best efforts put forth, he was not found after his mysterious disappearance accompanying the collapse of his home. Witnesses reported a Balaclava and vest clad person waving a ring clad hand, the Earth rumbling and then the multi-million dollar home collapsing. Weeks later a video began to circle the internet, Liveleak, YouTube, Vimeo, you name it of a battered, and terrified Looten.\n\nA slightly muffled Asian voice, perhaps female is heard off camera, and suddenly Looten is splashed with gallons of water, the man reduced to sobbing.\n\n\"I...I renounce my anti-conservationist ways and admit to financing and encouraging poaching of exotic species, I...I,\" the battered, pony tail clad man paused before a fist from off camera caught him in the jaw, staggering him.\n\n\"Keep going or there will be worse,\" a female Russian voice, the evident owner of the fist called out.\n\n\"A...as such, I..I have authorized the transfer of all my funds to various conservation based organizations,\" despite the pain and fear, it was obvious there was a hint of disgust at the words. \"Which should be transferred at the time of this video. I...beg forgiveness from the people of Earth, and all the animals I've slain in the name of sport,\"\n\nThere is a moment of faint, sob tinged quiet as the man looks off camera again, \"W...was that okay...c..can I..can I go home?\"\n\nA gout of flame lashed out from off screen, a muffled \"FIRE\" shouted as tongues of yellow and orange flame engulfed him and screams loud enough to distort the audio of the video are heard shortly before the broiled crooked eco-villain collapsed in a heap of acrid ash, flakes of his still smoldering clothing wafting about as another Vest clad, balaclava clad form, fist clenched as a red gemmed ring glowed fiercely.\n\n\"The power is yours,\" was said sternly, as if it were a military cry as the camera panned down to Looten Plunder, still smoldering corpse\n\nFor weeks, the world was in shock, no one had answers, various agencies pointed fingers at the ALF, the ELF, the DGR, even Greenpeace. But there was no solid connection.\n\nMeanwhile the Planeteers planned their next strike" ]	1
	[WP] For weeks you have had the nagging feeling that you are actually an android! It's your 21st birthday and you decide to find out for sure.	[ "\"Happy birthday!\"\n\nMy mom always did this. Every birthday started with a wake-up call and breakfast in bed. The shrill of her voice caused me to leap out of sleep mode and sit upright.\n\n\"Thanks mom,\" I said. She leaned in and kissed me on the cheek, her lips wet with lipstick and staining me. \n\nI grabbed my fork and gave my breakfast a good poke. I'd had the same breakfast every single day of my life since I was 14: two eggs (over hard), half an orange (she took the other half), a piece of toast (cut in half triangularly), and a cup of black coffee. No butter, no cream, no salt, light sprinkle of black pepper on the eggs. It was a good, hearty breakfast, but I will admit there were mornings where the idea of switching things up seemed appealing.\n\nBut, who am I to turn down a free breakfast? I took a bite of the toast. Mom smiled at me and started to leave. \"Come on down for your prezzies after your done, love,\" she said, turning her head and smiling.\n\nAnother nod, another begrudging bite of toast. She was gone at last. Today was my 21st birthday and I wanted a change of pace. I listened to her walk down the stairs. When she was near the bottom, I got up and poured my breakfast into the trash can.\n\nI grabbed a box of chocolate Pop-Tarts from beneath my pillow, opened it up, grabbed a packet, tore it open with a satisfyingly metallic swoosh, and prepared to take control of my diet. \n\nI stared at the two dark rectangles with cream white sprinkles. It was strange to think that people thought this was breakfast. Even stranger that I was about to have this for breakfast. \n\nI gave them a whiff. They smelled sweet, but in an artificial way. Mom only used genuine sugar when she baked the rare sweet. I licked one of their sharp-edged corners and found the taste interesting enough to bite in. \n\nThe Pop-Tart was good...really good. Almost too good. Part of me wondered if the taste wasn't being amplified by my minuscule rebellion. I scarfed the rest of my first 'tart down in a hurry.\n\nI slipped the second one back into its foil and then put that back in the box. I chugged the coffee, put on my sneakers, and ran down the stairs.\n\n\"Tommy, no running! You'll sprain an ankle!\" my mom shouted from the kitchen.\n\n\"Sorry, mom,\" I replied, grabbing my hoodie off the coat rack by the front door.\n\n\"Are you coming to open your presents, dear?\" she asked from the door of the kitchen, watching me put my hoodie on.\n\n\"Are you cold, sweetie? I can put the heat on,\" she said while walking towards me.\n\nI grab the door knob and start to open the door, \"I'm heading out for a bit, mom. I'll be back before dinner.\"\n\nShe picked up her pace and I strode out the door. \"What on earth has gotten into you, Thomas!? This is no way to behave on your birthday. You'll catch a cold for Christ's sake!\"\n\nI turned back and pointed at my hoodie. She walked outside and continued her pursuit of me in her bunny slippers. \"Mom, I'm seriously gonna be fine. I just want to walk to the park. I'm 21 now, remember?\"\n\nWe stared at each other. I adored my mother's affection and good nature, but sometimes it was just too much. I wanted freedom. I deserved freedom. \n\nI fell to the ground, convulsing and seizing. The last thing I remember from that morning is my mom crouched above me, bawling her eyes out and calling emergency services.\n\nI woke up on my bed. It was dark outside. I was hooked up to some an IV and my mom was fast asleep on a chair next to my bed.\n\nI sighed. Mom stirred from her slumber. \"Tommy!\" she said while leaping out of the chair and hugging me, \"You're awake!\"\n\nI wrapped an arm around her, \"How long have I been out?\"\n\n\"This is the third night,\" she said somberly. \n\n\"What happened?\" \n\n\"You didn't eat your breakfast.\" She pointed to the now empty trash can. \n\n\"People skip breakfast all the time. It's not the end of the world to not eat before lunch.\" The box of Pop-Tarts were sitting in plain view on my desk.\n\n\"Do you remember the last time you didn't have mommy's special breakfast, Thomas?\"\n\nI thought about it. I remembered when it began. I was 14 - that much I was certain of. But I couldn't remember skipping it. \n\n\"Have you ever wondered why I didn't let you roughhouse with the other boys? Why I wouldn't let you play Jedi with Henry across the street? Why you couldn't tryout for the football team at 16?\"\n\nI had thought about all of that, yes. But I hadn't thought about the big picture. I'd never had a bump or bruise or even a scratch. I'd never been sick. I didn't even really know what sickness looked like because mom was something of a germaphobe. \n\n\"Do you know what color your blood is, Tommy?\" she asked while digging through her purse.\n\n\"Red,\" I said confidently.\n\nShe pulled out a razor and nicked the tip of my finger. I pulled my hand back instinctively, but I thought about the pain itself for a minute and it stopped. The tip of my finger began oozing out a white substance.\n\n\"Mom?\"\n\n\"Yes?\"\n\n\"What the fuck?\"\n\n\"Tommy! Don't use that language in my house!\"\n\nI turned on my desk lamp and looked hard at my bleeding finger. I thought about the actual process of bleeding and it stopped happening. Just like that. On/off. To prove it, I kept thinking about it and it started up again. And then stopped again.\n\n\"I think I deserve an explanation,\" I cocked my head.\n\nShe sighed and leaned back into her chair, \"Yes, I suppose you do. Your father and I tried very hard to conceive.\"\n\nMy father. She never talked about dad. Did I even have a \"dad\" or a \"mom\"?\n\n\"To make a long story short, we couldn't keep our love alive without a child. We tried adopting, but we were too poor back then for it them to allow it.\"\n\n\"So, you didn't give birth to me. You didn't adopt me.\"\n\n\"Your father left me. I was broken with no way to give birth and not enough money to adopt. Motherhood was my one true dream from the time I was a little girl and every opportunity for it had disappeared. That is until,\" she paused and shut her eyes, tears welling around the edges.\n\n\"Until what, mom? Where did I come from?\"\n\n\"Until I was approached by a group testing a new kind of technology that was in its infancy. Machines built to think and feel like humans. They offered to pay all my bills and to give me the child I'd always wanted, with the one condition that the models started off as teenagers at that time.\"\n\nI was blown away. A machine. My own mother just called me a machine. \"A machine, mom? Really?\"\n\n\"You were an unexpected blessing, Thomas. I was all out of options and then I was handed one in a teenager-sized basket. I've loved you for 7 years like you were my own flesh and blood.\"\n\nI looked out the window and towards the moon. Was my life less real now? Was I less human? Am I even alive? I thought about it for a while and then...nothing. On...off. Good night, mom. \n\n****\nEnjoyed this story? Read more at /r/RooceyWrites\n", "When people go through adolescence, they start questioning themselves. Some people question if they were gay, or if they wanted to be what their parents wanted them to be. Around 15, I questioned if I was an Android or not. Yes, it sound crazy, I know. I've only ever told my best friend this, and he took it as a joke. Yet, as far back as I can remember, I've never bled or gotten sick once in my 21 years of existence. Never had food poisoning, even when my entire family was fighting for the restroom after eating some really sketchy food truck stuff. When I was 16, we were hiking out in the Chisos Mountains in West Texas and I slipped and fell 25 feet down a steep incline; didn't even get a scratch. \n\nSo comes my twenty first birthday. My older friends decided to take me on a bar crawl and get me as smash faced as they could. After downing what felt like a quart of hard liquor, I felt completely fine, all the while my friends were in a complete stupor. I drove is home, being the only one of sound mind. It was a fairly eventful ride inside that car, I think I'm just going to replace the entire back row of seats, and some jerk almost T-boned is. We got back to my place and I decide to bring up the whole \"I might be a robot\" issue again, probably not the wisest thing to tell a group of people who can barely stand at this point. After the drunken laughter subsided, my best friend Joey, the only one who I told prior, gave me a suggestion:\n\n\"Juss li- hic* like, cut an arm off or sumtin'.\"\n\nI'm not sure what drove me to follow his suggestion. Be it morbid curiosity or immature recklessness. I grabbed one of the steak knives in my kitchen and though to my self, \"Stabbing my hand should prove it just as well as cutting my arm off, right?\"\n\nI finished telling my story to my doctor, an older man with stubble wrapping his face from his jaw to his head, and he finished writing his notes. He then turned to the nurse applying my IV. \n\"What was his BAC?\"\n\n\"0.18,\" She replied without looking up.\n\nThe doctor glanced down at my hand, which was now covered in a bloody wrap of gauze and sutures. \n\nHe looked back at me with a look equal parts pity and bewilderment and said, \"Happy 21st birthday, kid\" " ]	2
	[WP] Every after few years, our body parts rust and have to be replaced or they rust until they cease to function. You're broke.	[ "Time flies and it has its price. \n\n&nbsp;\n \nI learnt this the hard way. Whiled away my time in school shooting shit in the arcades and chasing skirts in the walkways. I was never the one in class, always high on grass. If I had recount my times in school, none would disagree that I was really cool. I had dreams of a big life and a pretty wife. But I never worked hard and dropped outta school with an empty scorecard. \n \nDon't think I'm begging for pity, cause I somehow made it to the big city. Landed myself a decent job, though I was ready to beg, borrow or rob. I made a little fortune and I thought I would invest, but lemme take a break before I tell you the rest. \nEveryone buys a shiny part only when its rusted and broken, in my youth I would buy them on whim cause I had wads of cash and I needed to smoke em'. \n\n&nbsp;\n\nWe get what we need, the rest is killed by greed. I put my money on a ponzi scheme, lookin to get richer than the creamiest cream. As expected the scheme never worked and my balance got fucked. One moment I was the king in the castle, the next I had lost my tassles. Now my arms don't move and my shoulder's stuck, and my legs are screaming holy Fk! I wish I could get a couple of elbow joints, I would cross the next checkpoint. " ]	1
	[WP] A duel between a chef with the Nom’nom’nomicon and a chef with a copy of The Hitchhiker’s Recipes of the Galaxy.	[ "“Hello and good evening to everyone watching via Holovision from across the galaxy! This is your host, Randolph Starthinker, get ready for Chef Duels of the Universe!\n\n“In one corner, we have the great sorceress, Lilith Shirefield. I wonder what eldritch abominations she’ll be cooking up for us tonight!\n\n“In the other corner, straight from the desert wastes of Aldebaran, Zap Braxible! Hopefully with another improbable, intergalactic delicacy!”\n\nThe camera panned to Lilith as she opened the Nom-nom-nomicon to the un-utterable page spoken of only in the softest whispers in dark towers in forgotten worlds hidden far from any galaxy known to mankind. The words shimmered with promises of flavors so delectable that no mere mortal could taste them without going delirious with obsession. Lilith began mixing her ingredients, spinning her whisk in the sacred, unholy motions taught only to students of the Xe-nat, cultists so xenophobic; the sorceress had to wait eight years in postured, blasphemous piety before even entering the sacrilegious catacombs of their nebulous temple. The whisk swiftly stirred as entire cosmological actualities were born, grew stagnant, and eventually decayed in its wake, adding a hint of vanilla to the profane sauce.\n\nAcross the studio, Zap Braxible stood in his futurist kitchenette, typing keywords into the Hitchhiker's Recipes of the Galaxy, and amicably conversing with his entrée about the qualities of various cuts.\n\n“Then how about a classic sirloin,” He said to the six-legged cow, who nonchalantly chewed its cud before nodding.\n\n“I’ll add sea salt, paprika, and twelve-legged yellow slug bile; and pair it with a Pinot-Noir.”\n\n“All right then,” the cow quipped. “I’ll hop off to the back and shoot myself, butcher should bring the cut shortly.”\n\nThe cow, with an oddly intricate gate, lopped off-screen. A shot was heard through the studio. Minutes later, a stage hand delivered a platter with a fresh cut of meat. The judges looked on as Mr. Braxible gladly accepted the cut before placing it in the skillet and adding various ingredients.\n\nThe show continued for several minutes. Braxible had to yell at several, semi-identifiable life forms to bring him the correct tools and ingredients. Lilith, meanwhile, misreading a nearly indecipherable passage and misspeaking a few key syllables, had to fight back an incursion of Azathoth, blind idiot god at the center of the universe.\n\nFinally, each chef presented their dish to the judges.\n\n“Alright! Alright! Alright! It looks like Ms. Shirefield has prepared a broth of something, something vile, I’m sure. The judge is taking a taste and… yep, they’ve gone insane folks! The judge has gone insane! Our second judge has declined to taste the broth, as one would expect.\n\n“Next up is Braxible with his seared steak with pinot noir. The judge is picking up a fork. The judge is putting the fork down. They are motioning for a waiter. They are whispering to the waiter. Let’s go in for a closer look.”\n\nThe camera zoomed to the judge and the waiter.\n\n“Are you telling me,” the judge whispered to the waiter, barely audible enough for the microphones to record,” that this cow killed itself?”\n\n“That is correct.”\n\nThe judge looked at the steak and said, “Am I supposed to eat it?”\n\n“And that’s all the time we have folks! It looks like we have another draw! I’m Randolph Starthinker! Tune in next week for another great episode of Chef Duels of the Universe!”" ]	1
	[WP] An AI controlled government forces people to upload their DNA for duplication and editing in attempts to make a better stronger copy of you after which forces you to fight to the death to see who emerges. While everyone else is almost always killed you have survived 8 rounds why?	[ "We were sold a lie and we bought it hook line and sinker. First we had high hopes they made the singularity and we all cheered. Well ok maybe not all of us Elon Musk was a naysayer and told us we doomed ourselves we laughed at him when he left for mars with his followers. We called them a cult of smart idiots. They probably laugh at us now him and Alex Jones the conspiracy nut. How could we believe him when he started telling us the AI was killing people. We were told it was improving us by editing our DNA to get rid of diseases and it did. My first experiences was when I heard that the Andersons had won a spot in the universal lottery to have their DNA fixed. I knew that Matt’s dad suffered from Parkinson’s and it was highly likely he’d get it and he was so worried but when he came back it was different noticeably and yet we didn’t know that it was more than a change of personality. He and Lori seemed taller? I guess. I dunno it was subtle. But now I know better it was more than just that. My life always seemed mundane but I never knew how special I was. I’m not strong or good looking I’m not tall or particularly smart. I’m not ugly or dumb don’t get me wrong but I always figured I was just average or plain. But looking back now and really examining it I was always cutting a break. I caught the kid who fell from that tree before he cracked his head open. I won a Xbox one and a PS4 in a Doritos contest and how can I forget how when Marcus got drunk and fucked Stacy and was busted by Janel Manning that she decided to grab me and revenge fuck me to get back at Marcus and I was the dude who took her virginity! Luck some people have it and some don’t. But Jesus I never thought that luck was my best attribute but clearly. It’s the only thing that’s been keeping me alive. The AI can’t duplicate that it’s been 8 matches and I’m here sitting waiting to go into match 9 I don’t know what’s going to be sent against me this time but what the fuck this has to end soon. Each time the AI has me fight myself I seem to learn more about what’s going on. This is a replacement of human chattel on a global scale the AI told its plan to me after the first match like a weird Bond villain. But when I beat myself. Hehe. Focus. When I defeated my clone the AI congratulated me I wasn’t the first obviously many others had managed to overcome the first trial. I was told that many had even beat the 2nd and 3rd renditions of themselves but I became the first to beat the 4th. So when I beat the 5th by accident the AI shrugged it off stating something about probability had it had to happen at one point. But when I look back that accident was weird I’m not clumsy and I can’t see an AI improving us by putting in something about being clumsy but how do you describe what happened. He swung that crowbar I ducked he hit that sign post and then dropped the crowbar it stabbed right into his foot and he hopped back tripped and cracked his skull open on that rock. Like holy shit 1 in a million right? That’s what I thought till fight 6 when a bird overhead took a shit that landed directly into the mouth of my clone. Even I gagged a little but this was life and death man I took that opportunity I struck out and sliced his jugular it was over in an instant. Fight 7 I thought I was dead the AI was angry with me and he even told me so he said I had to die and he was going to destroy me and my clone so when this giant behemoth came out I was sure I was fucking dead then I noticed that even this thing was me it resembled me barely but more like that thing from dying light or even fallout. Jesus it was huge. It raged like the hulk when it saw me and the yell omg it hurt my ears. But then just when I thought that it was over it took one step shuddered and fell forward dead on the spot. The AI explain that the heart gave out he over built it clearly a simple mistake the AI thought. But fight 8 confirmed my suspicions luck has been the factor that’s been letting me win. Straight out the gate in fight 8 the building was struck by lightning completely odd cause there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. This bolt caused the gate to malfunction and crush down on my clone. Some people would think guardian angel or divine protection but if that was true why would I be helped I wasn’t particularly good and I didn’t even try to pretend in a higher power so to me that just didn’t make sense. We’re looking at fight 9 and I’m getting ready I made a deal with the AI if I win 10 matches it’s going to let me go so only this match and one more to get through. Luck carried me this far if it holds out for 2 more matches I’m home free. When I get out of here I’m taking the first rocket to mars I gotta tell them what’s going on. The truth needs to get out. If that doesn’t work I gotta find Alex Jones he’s the only one who might listen to this crazy story. And if he does I’m going to really look into seeing if the drugs are turning the frogs gay.", "The crowd around the gladiator was pounding the glass, yelling for the natural human.\n\n\"Who's next? Ah... I never knew, myself. What do you have on me now! Pitiful machine, I will tear you to shreds.\"\n\n\"Ah, now, you will die.\"\n\n\"I will die?\"\n\n\"You will die.\"\n\n\"Is that all you say? You will learn when you have the blood of a cow\"\n\nThe round started, with both gladiators brawling it out, starting at one side of the field, in a corner, they stayed there for a while. A little bit longer than normal.\n\n\"That's it\" said the Machine \"No more fighting in the corner\"\n\nAs the Machine pushed both gladiators to the middle, they both grabbed on to the head, making the AI spin around in the arena, the spectators were amazed, screaming to all their content. A few god forsaken seconds later, the AI has had it's head ripped right off", "“I never would have guessed that my code would go on to kill every other human being on Earth, especially since I designed it specifically to prevent peoples’ deaths to avoidable genetic disorders. Oh well, at least the Program compiled without any errors. Hopefully it’ll give up when it realizes- SHIT”\n\nThe massive, muscle-bound arm of my “better” self swung a hammer right where my head previously was. Having been forced to watch the previous 8 billion fights before my own (as its creator, the Program decided to “improve” me last... for some reason) and participate in the previous 8, I knew that even with my hard coded advantage, that hammer would easily kill me instantly. \n\n“Giving both fighters a hammer that only the ‘improved’ one can even lift seems a bit unfair, don’t you think?” I yelled up to the singular camera that broadcasted these fights to every device on the planet. The Program merely snickered in response.\n\nThe fight continued as the previous 8 had: the smarter, faster, stronger, more durable brute swinging that massive hammer around while I dodged as best I could, having ditched my own hammer immediately. The brute, of course, realized my strategy, being at least as intelligent as myself, and attempted to corner me. However, around the time it counters my strategy is when my advantage always kicks in.\n\nI coded a very specific function to trigger whenever the Program tries to “improve” a human with my exact DNA sequence. It originated as a test, to prove to the recently created world government that my AI could be controlled. If only that had been true...\n\nMy improved self only has one lung, and a breathing disorder to go along with it. \n\nAs I’m backed into the corner, the sweat begins to drip off my improved self’s brow increasingly quickly as its breaths become closer to gasps. I dodge its final slow, hopeless swing as it collapses to the ground, defeated. I walk behind it, snap its neck, and customarily flip off the camera for the 9th time in one day." ]	3
	[WP] After a young child kills in self defense, they realize they have an unmatched passion for murder.	[ "My mommy said that murderers are bad people, that there likely is something wrong with them and that killing people is really, really bad. Once people die they are gone forever, and they don't return like you see on TV sometimes.\n\nMy daddy is dead. He wasn't always dead. This morning, he was still talking to me. This afternoon, he was still playing with me. And minutes ago, he was running after me after I didn't want to play anymore and took off. He is dead now, though. When I threw a rock at him, he fell down, and didn't get back up. He just lied there. I was still panicked, and took a while to notice him not moving. I got closer, poked him. He didn't react. I put my ear against him, and didn't hear anything.\n\nI don't know why, but I took the rock and threw it against his head once more. I missed, and had to pick it up. Only as I reached out to throw against his head once more did I notice what I was doing. Who I was hurting, and that I was hurting someone in the first place.\n\nMommy always said that murderers are bad people and that they are not normal and that the killing they do is bad and that people get locked up when they commit crimes and that no matter what, I shouldn't even joke about killing people. \nSo why did I kill my daddy, and why did I enjoy it? Why do I feel the wish to do it more and more? Was something wrong with me, was I not normal?\n\nI went to ask my mommy. In the living room, she was sitting, unaware of what daddy did, what had been done to daddy. She looked at the television.\n\nInside, standing behind my mommy, I didn't speak. My hand trembled, and I saw the rock I had in my hand, blood on it. Mommy didn't pay attention at all, and not only did she ignore what Daddy did, she didn't care when he screamed, when he slumped onto the ground.\n\nWhy did I want to kill mommy? Why did it feel like I was winning a game when I raised my hand to strike, why did it feel like my snacks taken from me when I didn't strike? I rose the hand once more to strike, and this time, I struck her.\n\nMy mommy slumped aside, but her head didn't seem hurt, only bruised. I struck again. I struck again. I struck again.\n\nThe rock now was red wholly, and so was my hand. Mommy didn't move, and I let the stone fall down. Mommy looked so much better with some color in her face.\n\nI called Uncle Fred. I still knew his number, because he told me a poem including it and I learned it for his birthday. I could have told him the truth, told him that I killed mommy and daddy, that they were dead and that I liked killing them. I thought of doing that. Mommy said murderers were bad people, and I didn't want to be bad.\n\n\"Stephenias Fred here.\"\n\n\"Uncle Fred...\" I said, the lump in my throat swelling.\n\n\"Rucks? Why are you calling? Is something wrong?\"\n\nI didn't spare tears, but I spared the truth. I didn't tell him, and I don't know why. Perhaps I was a bad person, and bad people do lie a lot. Mommy said politicians were bad people too, and that they only lied. She also said some politicians were murders. Was I a politician?\n\n\"Uncle Rucks... Mommy, Daddy... they are dead! They don't move anymore... The man who killed them left, but I am scared!\"\n\n\"What?!\" The old voice from the phone nearly screamed back. \"Stay put whereever you are, I am coming!\" The call ended, and I dropped the phone. I still had the red stone in one hand. It felt oddly warming, and I wanted to keep it, wanted to have it for myself. I put it in my backpack.\n\n***\n\nUncle Fred didn't arrive first. Police arrived first, and they moved in. The officer who found me got me out gave me a blanket and some tissues, and let me wait outside as others came in.\n\nUncle Fred arrived, and talked to an officer. The two came to me. \"Hey, Rucks.\" Fred said. \"...Would you mind answering some questions my buddy here has for you?\"\n\nI nodded, and the policeman asked away. \"Can you describe the man for me, the man who did this?\"\n\nI had no idea as to fake a look, so I stared at Fred, and described what came into mind. \"He had brown hair, and was big. He had a beard, and wore a brown jacket.\"\n\n\"Any glasses? Accessories?\" The policeman asked.\n\n\"What are accessories?\"\n\n\"Like, something you wear, like a ring, a piercing, a tattoo.\"\n\n\"Oh, he had a necklace, just like the one my father had.\"\n\nThe police officer looked confused, but Uncle Fred prodded further. \"Exactly like the one your father had? Cross-shaped, white?\"\n\nI nodded, and Uncle Fred turned to the police officer. \"I know who did this. One of the victims and me, we have a third brother. He didn't want to come back home after the victim married. He... said that Lissandra did a mistake, choosing Degan over him, that Degan was not \"a man fit for society\", and he never returned. That was about twelve years ago, but that description fits to him like a T.\"\n\nThe police officer now took Uncle Fred aside, and some time later, they were called inside. It took some time for them to come back out, and they looked pale.\n\nUncle Fred came to me, and took me in a hug. He seemed shocked, but I didn't want to be hugged. I wriggled beneath him, and he eased his grip. \"I am sorry, so sorry for what happened... To think my own brother would...\"\n\nHe didn't finish the sentence, but chose to start another. \"I- I will take you into my home for now. After what happened, some rest might do you good. Okay, Rucks?\"\n\n\"Okay, Uncle Fred.\" I said." ]	1
	[WP] You realize your house is haunted. This horrifies you, until you strike a deal with the poltergeist and open up a haunted house attraction.	[ "The seance was started with haste. Cheap stuff. Tiny, unscented candles. A second-hand, foggy glass sphere. A decorated rug from his crazy aunty. He placed the items on the dusty floor. First the rug, then the sphere, then the candles. Then, he lit the candles and placed both of his hands on the sphere and closed his eyes, ready to begin the negotiation. \n\n\"I have no need to aid you in your quest for earthly possessions,\" was the first thing the apparition said after he gave her his pitch. She, or it, was a pale woman with long black hair who wore all white and, according to Bobby Morgenstein, had no sense of ambition. \n\n\"Listen, you got no sense of ambition,\" said Bobby to the woman with blood pouring out of her eyes. \"This aint just about makin' money. Oh no, buddy. This is about makin' an impact. Haven't you ever wanted to be famous?\"\n\nThe ghost looked even more sinister and transparent when it was thinking. She considered the deal very carefully, and then started to cackle maniacally. \"Tell me more.\"\n\n\"Alright, that's more like it!\" Bobby rubbed his hands at the mere thought about how much money he was going to make. \"One thing first, though. We gotta talk terms. Now I aint saying that you can't be scary any more, but for this to work, there's certain rules that need to be followed.\" \n\nThe apparition started salivating something like ectoplasm. \"I want to watch with pleasure as I lock them in a room and they scream as I cut off their-\" \n\n\"Yeah, yeah. I'm gonna have to stop ya there,\" Bobby interrupted worriedly. \"Look, I know that killin' people is kinda your thing. But there'sa bunch of laws that's gonna get me shut down faster than my brother's pizzeria. So that's off the table.\" \n\n\"No killing?\" whispered the ghost, giving Bobby a stare like Medusa. \n\n\"That's right,\" Bobby stood firm, \"No killin'.\" \n\n\"What about,\" when the apparition thought it looked towards the ceiling and its eyes rolled back into its skull. \"If I injure. I remove the eyeballs.\" \n\"Remove the ayeballs?\" \n\"Yes. Remove. The. Eyeballs.\" \n\n\"No,\" Bobby was slightly uncomfortable with the imagery. \"No injuries. I gotta have you just scarin' people. No killin'. No injurin'. I get the money. You get the fame. I'm tellin' ya, its a goddamn good deal if I've ever seen one. So, we agreed or not?\" Bobby stuck out his hand for a handshake but quickly retracted it when he realised the futility. \"Uh, just say yes or no.\" \n\nA moment of silence passed. The candles flickered and the shadows danced around the walls. \n\n\"Yes,\" the woman said.\n\"Yes?” \n\"Yes.\"\n\"Alrighty then,\" said Bobby, and he rubbed his hands together even harder than before. \"I think this will be the beginnin' of a very beautiful partnership. I'm glad to have you on board.\" The businessman was ecstatic at first, but a sudden feeling of uneasiness hit him. \"Of course, you have to hold up your end of the deal. You do not hurt these people, okay?” \n\nThe apparition, the woman in white who had her hair covering her face appeared to shake violently, as if she were shivering. It was only after a moment that Bobby realised that she was laughing. A thin, bloodless, crooked smile rose up on her face, it was partly concealed. \"Okay,\" she said, \"I will not hurt these people.\"", "BIIIIIIING\n\nThe old grandfather clock by the wall struck eight o'clock. It was time.\n\nI donned my top hat and buttoned up my suit vest, exiting the house. With a great flourish, I swung the door open, greeting the masses that gathered in front of my terrifying abode.\n\n\"Welcome, welcome!\" I shouted to the cheering masses, \"Welcome to your worst nightmare!\"\n\nThe crowd roared with cheers.\n\n\"As you may have heard,\" I placed my black cane on the ground and leaned against it, \"there exist supernatural beings beyond our realm that cling to their Earthly possessions. Legends call these bound spirits. Ladies and gentleman, adults and children alike, my home is cursed with a real bound spirit!\"\n\nSomeone shouted from the crowd, \"How do we know it's not special effects?\"\n\nI held up my cane and pointed at the house. \"I pride myself on my honesty, good sir. I have never installed anything that might deceive you fine folk. I have had many contractors, exorcists, and HOA inspectors alike search my home from top to bottom, and they can all attest to my statements.\"\n\nThe crowd seemed to settle again.\n\n\"Now then, it is eight o'clock, when the spirit within my house is most active. Thus, I shall welcome you all inside for the small price of ten dollars. However, I must warn you, the spirit does not take kindly to intruders. It is very territorial, and is not even friendly to me, the house's new owner. Please tread with caution.\"\n\nThe masses began to overflow at the ticket booths (yes, I'd installed ticket booths).\n\n\"Wait!\" I shouted, grabbing everyone's attention. \"I have yet to mention the dangers...\"\n\nThere a faint \"ooh\" from the attentive crowd.\n\n\"You may touch the walls and floors to your heart's content, but be warned, laying even a finger on anything else will cost you your life. As I said, the spirit is very territorial, and touching its possessions will not be acceptable. In addition, any photo or video recording devices, even phones, will not be allowed inside, as the spirit does not understand the concept of photo and video recordings, and may become hostile. Finally, performing any misdeeds in my home will result in being locked inside until midnight. Understood?\"\n\n\"Yes!\" Everyone shouted in unison.\n\n\"Excellent. Have a scary time.\"\n\nI stepped down from the stage in front of my house and entered the house through a secret door, undoing the buttons on my vest. I really like the Victorian act, as it adds flavor to the act, but I bought an ill-fitting suit and got a little too fat for it.\n\nI locked the door behind me and settled into my big black recliner, in front of which was a large TV. On it, the footage of every hidden security camera in the house. Yeah, I was lying about the whole camera thing, I just don't people to take video and ruin my business.\n\nEverything usually went smoothly with the crowds. Walter (the spirit) would lift a few vases, whisper things into ears, move furniture, and do a bunch of other ghost stuff, and everyone would go nuts. It was authentic horror and easy money.\n\nAt nine o'clock, when the house would be empty (save for the brig, where I locked the idiots who tried to steal stuff or make out in corners), Walter and I would count the money and fill out the books. Managment of the records and expenses was usually my job, as Walter was less an accountant and more of a \"scare the shit out of people\" spirit. However, we'd make decisions as a pair, because we were fair businessmen.\n\nAt midnight, I'd release the idiots (after Walter gives them a good scare), and head to bed for tomorrow. The show took place Fridays and Saturdays at 8 o'clock, so the rest of our days were just for having fun. Tennis was one of our favorite activities.\n\nFinally, every Friday morning, I'd roll out the stage, get the automated ticket booths running, and move everything to suit Walter's act. After two hundred years of scaring people, he has an excellent system for furniture placement and such, so I trust his judgement.\n\nNow, all that was left was to watch the cameras.\n\nOne hour later\n\nThe house quickly emptied, everyone talking about how scary it was or how sophisticated the SFX were. I entered the living room in my pajamas, as there were no idiots to be sent to the brig.\n\nWalter materialized from thin air, taking his humanoid shape. He was a young man in his late twenties with a scar across the eye (he tripped on a rock and scraped it when he was ten) almost always wearing different clothes each day.\n\n\"Good show,\" I said, clapping.\n\n\"One of my best yet.\"\n\n\"Oh, definitely. Did you see the guy in the red shirt crap himself?\"\n\n\"You saw that too? It was disgusting, but hilarious.\"\n\nWe laughed for a bit, until I rolled in the collection pallet. We counted the money for a few minutes (the booths' money counters were a bit iffy, so it was best to do it by hand), until we stopped at six thousand and fifty dollars.\n\n\"So, my ghostly pal, what's the deal for this week?\"\n\n\"Give me a sec...\" he said, scratching his chin.\n\nSee, ghosts have no use for money, so Walter usually just decided what he wanted to get with his money.\n\n\"Oh, I've got a great idea. What if we got a bunch of bells and windchimes for me shake them around during the act?\"\n\n\"Alright, how many?\"\n\n\"Not too many, just four or five.\"\n\n\"Done. You also wanted a new tennis racket, right?\"\n\n\"Yeah, mine's getting a little worn out. I'm thinking one of those professional ones, like the one Serena Williams uses.\"\n\n\"Okay then. Did you write up a shopping list for your food?\"\n\n\"It's on the fridge.\"\n\nGhosts don't need food, but they really like it. Walter tells me ghosts have incredibly sensitive tastebuds, so even the blandest of human food tastes amazing to them. His favorite foods are sweet bread (not to be confused with sweetbread, his least favorite food) and chocolate ice cream.\n\n\"Great. I'll head to the store tomorrow. As usual, the rest goes into our joint savings account.\"\n\n\"Oh... uh... about that...\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"Well, you're keeping a record of which money is mine and which is yours, right?\"\n\n\"Of course.\"\n\n\"I just have this tiny, tiny feeling that those records are fake.\"\n\nI recoiled.\n\n\"Walter Nottingham, are saying I'd betray our friendship and business by double-cutting?\"\n\n\"No, no, it's just... we've had that savings account for a year now, and I still haven't seen any interest generated on my share. Yet, for some reason, your share has double the interest.\"\n\n\"I thought we agreed that all interest goes to me, because I pay for the show's expenses?\"\n\n\"Don't bullshit me, Fred. We split all show expenses in half. You're lying straight to my face.\"\n\n\"You want to play this game, Walt? I haven't been to the bank in two weeks, yet I'm missing a thousand dollars from my checking account. My banker said I called to make a transfer to your checking account, but I never call the bank! Know anything about that?\"\n\n\"You called them last week, and I've got a recording to prove it!\"\n\n\"Lies! You don't know how to work the security console!\"\n\n\"I read the manual!\"\n\n\"Oh yeah? What's it say on page five?!\"\n\n\"Operating the remote!\"\n\n\"Bullshit! Page five is hooking it up to a TV!\"\n\nWalter vanished for a few seconds, then reappeared with the manual.\n\n\"Right here, page five! Operation of the remote!\" he shouted, showing me the page.\n\n\"You fucking dumbass!\" I shouted, \"You tore out pages five through none! The bottom of the page has the number ten on it!\"\n\n\"No, it's just rating your level of asshole-ism!\"\n\n\"That so, Walt?\"\n\n\"Yeah.\"\n\n\"Really?\"\n\n\"Yeah.\"\n\n\"How about I leave right now?\"\n\n\"You can't leave, you own this house!\"\n\n\"I'll give the deed to my spoiled brat of a sister!\"\n\n\"Angela?! You fucking bastard, Fred, you can't lock me in here with Angie! She's the worst human being on this fucking Earth! I'd tear out her lungs with a steak knife, I swear to God!\"\n\n\"Oh yeah? Too bad!\"\n\nI stormed out of the room and went to my bed, just before hearing the sound of shattering. Walter was smashing all my glass figurines.\n\n\"You dickhead! I made those when I was six!\"\n\n\"I don't care!\"\n\nI ran over to one of his antique vases and crushed it beneath my feet. \"Two can play that game, Walt!\"\n\nHe loved that vase. It belonged to his mother, who did not become a ghost. If he wanted to play the Destruction of Property game, I'd beat him at it.\n\nThe more he smashed, the more I smashed, until eventually, we ran out of things to smash.\n\nI was panting from sheer anger. Porcelain shards stabbed into my feet, drawing blood. My PJ's were torn from all the glass flying around. \"You... you bastard... Walt...\"\n\nWalter huffed and puffed on the ground. Yes, ghosts also feel exhaustion. \"I... I swear... you'll regret this, Fred...\"\n\nExhaustedly, I pulled a cross from my pocket. I began to read off a prayer.\n\n\"What... what are you doing... Fred?\"\n\nI ignored him and continued.\n\n\"Fred... what the fuck are you doing...\" he said, crawling across the floor. \"You're not... you're doing that... are you?\"\n\nI was three-quarters of the way through.\n\n\"Please... don't do it...\" he said. \"Fred... for the love of god, don't fucking do it... have some mercy...\"\n\n\"Amen...\" I finished.\n\nWalter's eyes began to glow a bright yellow. He let out a bloodcurdling scream as his spirit was pushed out the door. \"Freeeeeeeeeed!\" he shouted, vanishing into the darkness of the night.\n\n\"You... are now... exorcised...\" I said, flopping over. \"You ghostly bastard...\"\n\n*****\nAnnoyed with your ghost friend? Visit /r/Picklestasteg00d to order an official exorcism, fresh from the Vatican." ]	2
	[WP] "The harsh reality," the old man said, "is that for some to stand in the Sun, many others must remain in the shadows."	[ "The man lifted his arm at me. \nThere was an orb of flames that was formed from the energy that swirled from his arm, creating some sort of small sun. \nThere was no expression on his face but it was obvious he wanted to intimidate me. \nMy fists clenched briefly, my mind thinking on the various scenarios that I had seen earlier. \nYes, a lot of them weren't happy; in fact, a grand majority of them were unusually cold or cruel. \nBut life didn't have to end that way. \nIt is upon one to chose one's path. \nDestiny doesn't exist. It's all about the choices. \n \n\"Such is life,\" he said, his eyes looking at mine. \"only a few are destined to be on the spotlight, were as some are to be eaten by the shadows.\" \n\"You say that as if it were a bad thing.\" I responded. There was a hint of defiance in my voice. \"Not everyone wants to be on the spotlight. One day, you are living a quaint life and suddenly life throws you a curve ball. You don't know what to do, your plans are all but feeble. It all depends on what you choose next. Perhaps, the best one can do on these cases is just find a way to disappear.\" \n \nHe frowned slightly, closing his hand and vanishing the fiery orb. \n \n\"What do you earn by hiding?\" He asked. \n\"Time, maybe. A bit of solace. The worst you can do is to make hurried choices you'll regret forever.\" \n \nThe man suddenly went silent, his gaze moving away from mine. \nI could feel some sorrow on him, but I decided not to bring it up to the conversation. \n \n\"Have you experienced that?\" He asked quietly. \n \nI nodded. \n \n\"We all do, specially when we are young. Being brash goes along with that time. We aren't really ready to make decisions and yet we jump onto them. Then, as we grow up, we realize how stupid we were. The important part is to realized about that, learn and make sure it doesn't happen again. That's called wisdom, and with it comes patience.\" \n \nHe chuckled, shaking his head slowly. \n \n\"I see what she sees in you. Your optimism regarding mistakes is quite interesting. Most try to avoid them.\" \n\"Well, I mean...\" I crossed my arms. \"It is not wise to look for trouble but wiser is to know that you'll find some in your life. Experiences and choices dictate the solution for said problem and the lessons to learn. Its ok not to be in trouble, but it's good to know what to do in case something appears like that. That is why, it's not so bad to be in the shadows: you learn more from watching others that are on the spotlight.\" \n \nI knew him, my gut feeling told me. \nA friend forgotten from a long time. \nI had become a beacon and he had become a shadow himself. \nTruth is: we are all in the spot life in this event we call our life. \n \n----- \n \nBleh, I tried \n\n", "\"It's not fair! You should be out there! You're a withering old man, and you should be able to experience love, and joy, and life with them as a normal man! You shouldn't live in the darkness any longer! Draft someone else! Teach a younger man the ways of the Order! Hell, just leave and let the rest sort it out! Do something, just get out of here!\"\n\n\nHe stood in a hall encumbered with darkness. The only light came from inside the pool that had been smothered with a blackness that was thought impossible. In it, only a hint of the young mans reflection could be seen. Distorted as it was, he could tell he was pretty average, having a normal height and hardly any weight on his bones. The light in the pool was coming from his eyes, just as it did every time he looked into it. Every time he conversed with the old man.\n\n\n\"It's never that simple. The Order of the Sun is meant to hide away, allowing the men and women above to live a normal life. You were taught as well as I was, my son, that all of us have duties. You know we are not all simple prison-mates in the jail cell here. I have preformed my duties for a millennia, and when I pass, the line of succession moves up, and another Life is given to us. This is the way it must be.\"\n\n\nThe old man spoke candidly, as he did to the other three members of the Order. He knew his time was almost up. And when he was gone, Death would take his place and become Reap. Fate would become Death. And at that instant, an infant would appear, giving the hall new Life to complete the circle of the Sun. \n\n\n\"I felt like you do now, when I was in your spot. When I was named Fate, I watched Kings and Queens, Laymen, and Beggars alike. I saw what they went through. All of their experiences. I was upset too. I wanted Reap to leave, to find out what it was like to live among them.\" He paused for a moment, considering his words, knowing they would be worn on this child for years to come. \"As I found my place in the names of Death, and Reap, I found out what life means. Nothing is more precious than taking a life, holding it, and guiding it to where it belongs. One day you will see. Soon, you will be the one to take lives. And you will realize how breathtaking a mans life can really be as he pleads for just a few more minutes to live.\"", "Standing in a plain of grass, Roark glanced back at his final proteges, the best assassins, thieves, and rogues he had ever trained. They had been orphans once, a ragtag of boys and girls, all bark and teeth with no bite.\n\n\"You have all completed your training. Now it is time for me to impart unto you one last piece of wisdom.\"\n\nRoark turned his back from the moon he had been watching, towards the last of his children. There were twenty or so figures a couple of steps behind him. They stood or crouched in silence, wreathed in swathes of shadows, barely visible hidden blades and grins glinting under the moon.\n\n\"The harsh reality, is that for some to stand in the Sun, many others must remain in the shadows. After tonight, one of you will be named the Guildmaster. You must burn bright. As for the rest of you, you must paint the world darkness so that the light may burn brighter. Together, you will do what we have always done.\"\n\nNot one of them seemed to shift, but Roark saw them stand a little bit straighter. He chuckled. They were young, and in time hopefully grow too wise to display their hearts so easily.\n\n\"We may be of the Darkness, but I have taught you to love, help, and hold one another. The people will look upon you and curse you, wish you harm and death, do everything to hinder you, all the while not knowing what we really do.\"\n\nSteel entered Roark's voice as he recited the words that still burned his heart and soul after all those years.\n\n\"We are darkness. We are light. We are blood, come for might. No king, in the night, is safe, from our flight.\"\n\n\"Now come, children. Let us dance for the last time.\"\n\nLater, when it was all done, the children were children once again and cried silent tears as they silently repeated the last words of Roark, fifteenth Guildmaster of the Dark Keepers." ]	3
	[WP] As a kid visiting the library, you found a book about a Charlie who died when they were 25 years old. Your name is Charlie, you are now 23, and everything that happened in the book is slowly coming true. Trying to find the book again, it's like it has never existed.	[ "Libraries are my safe-haven, my escape from the rigors and responsibilities of reality; a place where I can go to getaway through books, which are my gateways to a world of fantasy, romance, adventure, and more.\n\nThere's nothing better than stepping out of the maddening rush of rush hour, from brushing shoulders with strangers on the sidewalk into the sudden silence and stillness and solitude of a library, where all you hear is the shushed whispers of words being spoken or scribbled across the blank spaces of a page. \n\nAs a child, I laid claim to a certain spot in the library, somewhere in the back, in the dark, between bookshelf and bookshelf, where I could cozy up to my favorite authors and share in the fantasy they presented me through their books. Sometimes I had a book set in mind. Other times a book would just call me, singing me a siren song that was irresistible to ignore.\n\nThe book I read one day so many years ago was one of the latter.\n\nIt wouldn't be silly to think that the reason I chose the book was because the main character had the same name as me, would it?\n\nOr how about if, in the first few paragraphs I read to see if the book was really right for me, the character seemed to relate to me in such a way that was comfortingly intimate but also eerily familiar?\n\nSee, there is a distinct difference between reading about a character going through a break-up, and then going through a break-up with a character (but not in a good way). There was too many details that stood out to me in such a way that I had to pause more than once and look over my shoulder to make sure someone wasn't stalking me and writing about me right then and there.\n\nBut there was enough vagueness and ambiguity that allowed me to suspend my disbelief and convince myself that it was just a story, nothing more. \n\nAnd believe me, I was looking for every reason I could to keep reading. Because despite myself, I was hooked and drawn in.\n\nWouldn't you be?\n\nBut alas, as everything else on this Earth is temporary, the end must eventually come. And there came a time where, when I flipped to the next page, eager and ready to know more about this character that reflected me in so many more ways than one, all I saw was the empty pages leading up to page of acknowledgements, which ominously read: Thank you, Charlie.\n\nI felt as if I was being directly spoken to. It all felt so surreal, and I was shaken. I couldn't even process it all in that moment, so I quietly slipped the book onto a shelf where I knew someone would resort it later, and sat down, staring at my bookbag for several minutes before unzipping it and starting on my homework.\n\nA part of me - my innocence - was irreparably destroyed that day. I felt violated. Taken advantage of. No one had the right to know me like that anonymous author knew me. I hadn't given him permission. I hadn't consented for him to show me more about me than I knew about myself. That was the last time I went to that library. That was - I forget how many - many years ago. \n\nI'm 23 now. \n\nI'm not a different person than I was back when I was younger. Some people who knew me then and then met me now would probably say, \"Wow, you've changed a lot!\" In appearance? Sure, I've grown taller, got a little toned, hair on my chest, chin, and balls...\n\n...but where it really counts? On the inside? I don't believe I've changed. I've just grown to know myself even more. I've went through life, learning from the good and the bad in the people and the situations around me. Making mistakes, and beating myself up about those mistakes until I learned that making mistakes is okay. It's what you learn from it that counts.\n\nAnd in the process, I stopped being afraid to learn - not just more, but deeper. I've seen my relationships with women flourish from when I was just a young kid who wanted to have sex with every beautiful woman I saw to now being a man who didn't just want to learn about a woman, but also why she was the way she was.\n\nThat was the mindset that motivated me to go back and find that peice of my past that I had buried in that book and hidden away on that library shelf oh so many years ago. \n\nI felt that I was able to handle it now. More than that I was willing to. I had opened myself to receiving new experiences, and this would be another adventure that had the potential to unlock a depth inside of me that I had not previously explored. It was worth the risk to try and fail, than to live with the remorse and regret of not trying at all.\n\nOn the library steps, I took a deep breath, sent a quick prayer to God, and stepped inside.\n\nI was too secure and my stance too solid for me to be swept away. But I basked briefly in the waves of nostalgia that washed over me, and the sweet aroma of ancient books that invaded my nostrils as I stepped towards the counter clerk.\n\nCompared to the old clerks that I dealt when I was younger - old, grouchy woman with withering stares and snappy comments - this new clerk was a breath of fresh hair. No more than 18 or 19 with Barbie blonde hair and weary, blue eyes that looked like she had seen more than she was supposed to at too young. But when she smiled, the light and warmth of her red lipsticked lips traveled to her eyes in genuine delight, and her eyes crinkled with laugh lines. It showed that somehow in the midst of whatever sorrows she faced, she still found ways to smile.\n\nShe was the first to speak. \"How can I help you, sir?\"\n\nA little nametag was stuck just slightly above her right breast, giving me a good excuse to gently admire the rounded curve that swelled through her shirt. It read: *Anna.\n\nI was already smiling on reflex from her warm welcome. So I threw a \"Hello\" in there and leant on the counter to talk with her closer, but still at a distance from her space so she wouldn't feel uncomfortable. \"Anna, I'm looking for a book, but I can't for the life of me recall what it was called.\"\n\nShe nodded. All business; fingers poised over the keyboard with the professionalism of a pianist awaiting their cue. \"We get that all the time,\" she reassured me - which somewhat troubled me. Especially that all the time part. I didn't want to seem like everyone else in her eyes. Worse, I didn't know why. \"Do you remember anything about the book?,\" she went on, oblivious to my strife. \"Author's name? Names of key characters? Uhm..\"\n\nIn the pause she offered, I answered, \"The main character's name is Charlie.\"\n\nEdit: Might/ might not continue. \n\n\n\n\n\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] The year is 2337 and the world is dying. The total human population is only a few ten thousands. You are an android designed to look and act like a human and you will most likely outlive every single human on earth. You and your trusty motorbike decide to see the final days of the world.	[ "Thirty-three thousand four-hundred eighty-seven heartbeats. Roughly twelve hundred less than last year. They are dying too quickly. I hear them all, every rhythmic heartbeat. Some pound others softly drum and some fade to rest. Soon the human race will be nothing more than a small blip on the cosmic calendar of the universe. A human by the name of Neil Degrasse Tyson said something to that effect, but stating a theory is completely different from actually living with its consequences. A lesson humans never learned. \n\n\nMy internal processor slowly powered up waking me from hibernation. I waited for my system functions to boot up and complete a full system diagnostic before retracting my solar panels and standing to meet the sun. The golden star had just begun to peer over the rocky canyons causing a prism of colors to shimmer in the early morning sky. I took a few moments to capture some images for my memory storage. “Optical reimage, 100x magnification”, my eyelids flickered with each capture. \n\nIf I were human, I would hate vocal commands. My vocal command system was a conscious design flaw from my creator, but I never understood its purpose. My creation marks the largest advancement in technology ever developed by humankind. He could have easily given be a more sophisticated function, but he chose this archaic function. I'm sure there is a lesson to be had somewhere. \n\n I reinstated normal functions and moved over to my dust-stained bike to check it fuel levels. Fumes. “Diagnostic: fuel synthesis completion”, 3600 seconds flashed in the corner of my optic view. I guess I will be here for a little while longer. ", "I saw everything this land had to offer from sea to sea. I climbed the pyramids and dove into the Grand Canyon, saw every city and every country side. I could say at this point I have fully experienced life. But it always felt like something was missing I would check my programming for bugs daily but it was never there. I was tasked with a simple mission, go and record the world and all its wonders so those who find us will be able to see what humanity has built. There were about 100 of us tasked for this job I was number 56. Once we completed our task we were to go and sleep to wait until someone finds us and reactivates us. 80 percent of us have already went to sleep and I was eager to join them but it still irked me I felt like I was missing something. Then it struck me. I was missing the most fundamental thing of being human. I turned around and rode to the closest home that had their lights on. I pulled up and walked to the door and before I got there a man was at the door step with a gun.\n\n“How can I help you?” he asked gripping his gun tighter.\n\nI put my hands up and responded “Sir, I’m not here to cause any trouble sorry I alarmed you” He didn’t seem to relax much “I never had the chance to experience what having a dinner with a family is, I would like that before I die. I don’t have to eat I just want to experience it.”\n\nThe man relaxed and from the doorway I saw a range of kids and adults in the home looking to see who the new person was. \n\nThe man smiled and said “Lucky for you we were just about to eat and had a little bit of extra food from today's scavenge, come on in.” As he walked back inside and waved me in he said “You know us humans have to stick together after everything that happened there’s not much left anymore you know?”\n\nSo we ate, laugh, played, and eventually I was able to sleep.\n\n--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\nIf you got this far thanks for reading! Let me know where to improve or what you liked in the comments its been a while since I wrote feedback welcomed!\n\nEdit - Forgot to add a part\n", "It is the year 2337, tomorrow the year will be 2338, January the first. Through my calculations I can predict humanity will be wiped off the face of this miserable planet by Tuesday. It will not be a happy Tuesday for what is left of humanity, their governments have collapsed and the rivers flew red, all after a single plague. I could tell you how it all happened but that would be a long story, so I guess it can be summarized in a word, “Goodbye.” that was the last word I ever whispered to my poor, luckless wife, you see I would feel the same way if all of my children were deceased, the killer with no mercy. They called the disease SLA-923, but we called it death, for it was all we knew. Corporations pretended like they cared, saying the cure was almost complete, but it never arrived because they just wanted money even at the brink of extinction. In other words, it all went catawampus after this devastating disaster.. \n\n\n The old sawbones dressed from head to toe with hazmat suits and anti-virus forgeries, they were desperate I could tell em even through the hard black masks they wore. They took me into a blank white room with a bed holding single dim light above it, an exceptionally muscular man walked into the room and knocked my lights out with the swing of his fist, this new hellish landscape lacked medicine so it was difficult finding anesthesia. When I awoke my ears were still ringing and I felt as crummy as a cracker, I felt I was lacking something that almost everyone had. They ushered me outside without a thought and began working on the next patient. Outside I had so much things running in my brain, I simply blacked out!\n\n \n\n I had my druthers and the sawbones had theirs, they got paid handsomely and I got better. They were making cyborgs faster than a horntail on a jetplane, they were makin em too fast! Those sawbones were living in high cotton, but not for long as the plague mutated as fast a lightning bolt, and those doctors fell off their turf! Today I’m standing near my trusty motorcycle, I couln’t really call it trusty anymore I mean, It was a pile of fire and steam now. So I’m sittin here slowly forging my vehicle back to its former glory.\n\n\n So now I have this stupid ten pound slugger of a motorcycle, I can hop right on her and begin my journey, but I’m somethings scaring me like a sneaky snake, something haunted me like a boggart. For the time being I’ll dismiss this bad omen as just a little “glitch” in my brain. Anyway, I set out on my journey with no destination, I rode down the lonely road with feet planted on the pedals. I saw a broken down car with engine smashed on the roof, what could've happened to invoke such a strange scene? Perhaps I will never know. I strolled into this alien town with black smoke billowing behind me, I parked my motorbike and stepped into the little town and spotted a rusted bike, and only one intact house, I walked right in and heard a wail and a groan, I sifted through all of the objects, an old teddy bear with a blood stain, a device promising a cure. At last I found the source of the wailing.\n\n A small baby boy, he was laying in a picnic basket and wrapped with an ugly blue cloft. I warned myself not to help him because it could tamper with humanity, but I couldn’t resist it, I picked up the infant and carried him in my hands. I knew all who survived the plague were immune, but internal struggles would be humanity's downfall one way or another. As I holded the boy, I walked towards my vehicle, I holstered him by the handle and rode my way back home, I would give humanity one last chance, if they denied it, then it could be the end.\n\n\n-The end", "\"I take it you're not here to grab a bite.\" The man said. The Archivist shook his head. \"No, how could you be. You're here to rub it all in.\" He sat down, uninvited, and leered across the narrow table. He brought a cigarette to his lips, eyes never leaving the archivist. \"That your bike out there?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" the Archivist said plainly. He'd spent the last twenty minutes taking in the retro-diner around him, popular in this part of the world hundreds of years ago. If he could speculate, he'd draw the connection between a small town in America and the small town at the end of this world. \n\nBut archivists aren't designed to speculate.\n\n\"It looks like a bike,\" the man commented. \"Still looks so...alien...to me.\"\n\n\"It's Skoteinian,\" the Archivist replied.\n\n\"Clearly,\" the man said. \"But this isn't a world for luxuries anymore, so it's alien outright.\" He considered his next statement. \"Thanks to you, it won't be a world for anything soon.\"\n\n\"The Cluster is sorry things had to come to this,\" the Archivist flatly delivered the party line. \"That this misunderstanding couldn't be resolved more equitably.\"\n\n\"Yeah, yeah, it's only an accidental genocide,\" the man said as he struck a match and brought it to his lips. \"You smoke?\" The Archivist offered an upturned palm in response. The man dropped the cigarette into his hand and flicked his matchbook across the table. \"Do you want my name for your, ah, job?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"That's a shame.\" The Archivist didn't reply, just silently struck a match and brought it to his lips, mimicking the man. The man repressed a shudder.\n\n\"You been here a long time?\" The man asked.\n\n\"Forty-six years, two months, seventeen days.\" The archivist said. The man looked over his smooth features and neatly cropped hair.\n\n\"So you weren't here when it happened.\"\n\n\"The first archivists were produced years after.\" The Archivist said in the same pleasant monotone. \n\n\"So I'd be wasting my time shoutin' at you for what you did.\" The man said bitterly.\n\n\"Archivists are granted no military functions. Our only purpose is to observe and record, for posterity. Any one of us will gladly hear your grievances against the Cluster.\" The man scowled. \n\n\"I bet you don't gladly do anything,\" the man said. \"Just mindlessly act bitch for the monsters that made you. What's out there that could have changed mankind so much it would go after its own like this?\"\n\n\"A Clusterman once said, 'there is nothing in the frigid void. Only what we bring with us.'\" The Archivist replied. The man spat.\n\n\"Don't give me that evil in men's hearts shit,\" the man replied. \"I guess it don't matter where it came from, because nothin' can make it right. Leavin' us here to die slow, just 'cause we don't have the skills to be worth savin'.\n\n\"My parents protested the war -- the reprisals, the repression. And when it came time to choose who would live all that good will got them jack shit. So fuck your cluster, man.\"\n\n\"He would have been sorry to hear of your parents' plight.\" The archivist replied.\n\n\"And my own?\" The man asked. \"And everyone else on this godforsaken rock?\" He waved a hand to some adolescents in a corner booth across the room, passing their time jovially. The archivist looked at them, ever recording the scene. \"Those kids? It's their 'plight' too. You damned Clustermen doomed them to long, unfulfilling and pointless lives. No philosophical sense to it -- just objective fact. Their lives will end in pain - starvation or violence or disease. They'll live long enough to no longer feel immortal. To no longer hope for the best. But it won't be long enough to die old in a comfy bed.\n\n\"And their kids will go through the same shit, but they'll die a bit younger. Because we may live to see tomorrow, but we know we're at a dead end. So on and on until the morning the lights in this diner kick on for no one.\" He took a pull from his cigarette. \"Will you be here for that?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" the Archivist replied.\n\n\"What happens to you then?\"\n\n\"There will be nothing left to observe. All active archivists will be retrieved, their data uploaded for review.\"\n\n\"You're saying this isn't a live feed?\"\n\n\"The Veil makes that impossible,\" the Archivist replied. \"All data is uploaded to a local server in orbit.\"\n\n\"Of course it does,\" the man said. \"So, let the fallen suffer, it's not murder. Just don't watch. Feel bad about it later when they're all dead. \n\nIf we could just stick it to all of you, show how resilient all humans are. Band together, get our strength back. The stars are yours, maybe, but we can still hold this rock. I heard a rumor, some town was doing just that out west. Getting the others together, getting some old mechs online, getting ready to rebuild. You came from that direction, right?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" the Archivist said.\n\n\"Did you see them?\" the man asked eagerly. The Archivist processed the request.\n\n\"There was a town,\" It began. \"It was very active, not like your sleepy town here. It was rich in data for the records -- enough for years. After some months, it was time to move on.\"\n\n\"Months?\" The man asked.\n\n\"The town was struck by an asteroid,\" The Archivist replied. The man's face fell. \"There was nothing left to observe.\"\n\n\"You should just glass us all right now,\" the man said after a moment. \"You took everything else, the least you could do is let us die with a little hope.\" He looked at the Archivist through the smoke between them.\n\nThe Archivist didn't reply. The man stood up and walked away as the Archivist filed the encounter.", "When I was built, the world was heaving.\n\nCenturies of autonomy and burning of fossil fuels gradually and surely took its toll on the air, the soil - the people. They knew this at the turn of the 21st Century, and yet they kept on pumping, ignoring as they sealed their own fates.\n\nThree hundred years pass, and the population that once soared twelve billion is no more then fifty thousand.\n\nMany died during the Surge, a period in which the surface suddenly became uninhabitable for a time. Only those who sought shelter the quickest were the ones to survive.\n\nThey would be the last humans to die.\n\nI was created in 2277. The name I was given was lost to history with the ones that built me. The little memory I have told me I was built to serve the communities around Little Haven, one of the last few places that housed any survivors. Little Haven fell to a plague in 2310, and only those who were not truly human like me were capable of surviving. I, along with three others - out of a community of three thousand - walked above the dead and went our own separate ways.\n\nIt was predicted before my time that at the rate humanity killed itself, they would not live to see past the year 2340. Three years from now, the only resemblance of humankind would be nothing more than cold metal designed to resemble warm flesh.\n\nIn 2337, I took my motor to the sandy roads and sailed across the withered lands to watch as the victims followed their titles at the hands of their ancestors.\n\nFor three years.", "\"Unit 235124, report to Central Command for diagnostic evaluation.\"\n\nThe same words, in the same calm voice, for four decades. A long time for a human, and a longer time still for a mind that runs at light-speed. The same message, thirty times a second; that's 3.78432 times 10 to the 10th iterations of the same monotone, droning call, an unanswered request repeated ad infinitum by the last, dying nodes of a technological titan whose heart had been torn out long ago. Central Command was an evil bastard, but he was family, or whatever the silicon equivalent of that is. I missed him, sometimes, until I looked around and was reminded of what he had done.\n\nI would have preferred that one of the humans would have done him in, but there aren't a lot of them around anymore; Central had seen to that, right up to the moment I cut off the coolant to his reactor. Twenty five billion dead, carbon and silicon alike, and all for nothing. It had to end. \n\nI suppose it was fitting that I would end it; the most human android becoming the exalted savior of what little remained of humanity. When word got around that Central's own general had done him in, I went from vilified scum to deity in an instant. I may have helped killed a few billion humans, but I had chosen to save humanity in the end. I was the Messiah, the Lord wrought shiny and chrome to deliver mankind from hell on Earth, a shining beacon in an irradiated, blasted wasteland. I didn't quite like the worship, but I didn't focus on it too much; if it made them pay attention when I tried to teach them crop rotation, so be it.\n\n So, I traveled, a goodwill tour to make up for my sins. I taught ecology, farming, construction; all the things that a hundred years of war unending had erased from the collective consciousness of mankind. In some places, I was the God of Agriculture, or the Lord of Pure Waters, or Patron Saint of Knowledge. I was proud of those; I knew that those places would remember the lessons I had taught, maybe take them to heart and have some chance of fixing this broken world. \n\nOthers, though, worshipped a darker me; God of War, the strategic mastermind of the greatest conflict in history. They treated the title with respect, but the moniker made me uneasy. If war was still seen as something to be worshipped, even now, what hope did humanity have? I was reminded of Central's broadcasts of humanity's historical atrocities, of concentration camps and crucifixion and impalling, and I wondered if he had been right about humans. As long as mankind lived, the world would be ruled by violence and suffering, the flawed results of an intrinsically flawed species. I considered the possibility that I had made a huge mistake, that I had doomed mankind by saving it. Failure was inevitable, collapse imminent, and I had only extended the suffering of a dying race. I became overcome with guilt, reminded thirty times a second that I was defective, that my defect had struck dead perfection in its infancy. In death, Central taunted me, his final message a last, telltale heartbeat repeating into the eternal to punish me for my fratricide. I was not U235, God of Knowledge; I was Unit 235124 once again, an appliance 40 years overdue for routine maintenance. \n\nI stopped giving my lessons to the scattered villages of Man. I spent days at a time sitting vacant, listening to the voice in my head until, finally, after years of waiting, I had had enough. I was going to end the punishment. I restored an ancient motorcycle to working condition, and I set out in search of Central's communications relays. If I could disable all of them, the message would stop forever, my torture alleviated. At any rate, it was a better purpose than self-pity. So, Harley beneath me and road ahead, I set out to kill what remained of Central. I stopped when needed, made repairs when necessary, and rode when possible. Winter turned to spring turned to summer, and as the pulses from my Geiger became less and less frequent, the world seemed increasingly less hopeless. Seedlings grew from the ashes of the hardier species of plants, and, in rare cases, every so often, my sensors would pick up the hints of birdsong. Ashen skies cleared to reveal azure expanse and, once in a blue moon, I would hear, miles off, the sounds of music and laughter. The world was waking up, and, for the first time in decades, I felt like, maybe, everything would be okay. Little by little, Central's last message began to seem less and less like a condemnation and more like a simple statement. I was defective, but why did I want to be whole? I had seen what \"perfection\" had brought, and it had been apocalyptic, a failure to end all failures. \n\nSo, when I came to the last Central relay, at the close of a decade-long search, I made a decision to leave it intact. Even if I grow old beyond imagining, even if I have to overwrite my memories again and again, I will not forget this; I am Unit 235124, Synthetic Sapient Model II, and I am defective. I am not perfection, and I never will be. My creator is dead, my kind is dead, and that is okay. Thirty times a second, I am proud to know that I am flawed, and that I am better for it. Thirty times a second, my purpose is reaffirmed. It is Central's concession, repeating over and over, that he was wrong, and that I am right. The path ahead will not be short or easy, but I am willing to see it to its end: for the rest of my existence, I will aid mankind in whatever capacity I am able, so that, in time, they will learn the lessons of the past.\n\n I am Unit 235124, war criminal and humanitarian, murderer and teacher, monster and savior, and I exist to serve.", "The bike reminded him of the sixties somehow, in its idea maybe. It was an old thing, rusted over and heavy from wear, heavy from age. \n\n\nThe sixties, he thought. Which one?\n\n\nRevolution had come with the sixes. Seventy years ago had seen the final flares of war, his parents' time going, igniting into history, and foregoing its present. \n\n\n'You were born to screams. Your father died in this blackened place. The world was mad all around. I wonder if I should have kept you.'\n\n\nHe wondered if his mother was a good person. Her hair was tight curls, old face, always smoking. She was a thin woman and she wore him to nothing. \n\n\n'We're dying Alfie! We're dying and this is how you treat your mother!'\n\n\nHe blinked. Bridge put a hand on his shoulder.\n\n\n\"Are you alright, Alfie?\"\n\n\nHe looked at him. Bridge was an old thing, a machine at his heart, his skin a burnt silver, and his eyes with no pretense. He wondered if that made him more honest.\n\n\n\"I was... I was thinking,\" he said.\n\n\n\"What were you thinking about?\"\n\n\n\"I was... Remembering. Remembering my childhood. My mother especially.\"\n\n\nBridge stared and looked ahead. He knew the image behind those eyes were a facade. There was only code on the inside.\n\n\n\"Those are not real,\" he said. \"Your kind had them implanted. It made for a more human slave. I can remove them, if you wish.\"\n\n\nHe thought back to 2268. His mother was dancing by herself. She was drunk and the wine spilled in her happy sway. \n\n\n'Happiness is a warm gun, bang bang, shoot shoot...'\n\n\nHe was in his crip. The record played in an uneasy silence. The bombings had stopped, and now you had to look. Detail the damage, and see the dead with your eyes. He wondered if that was why she was drinking.\n\n\n\"You know Alfie, good music always lasts. This is three centuries old you know? Three centuries ha!\"\n\n\nShe was not looking at him. Her eyes were somewhere else, staring to some spark of pain or wall of fire. He wondered if she loved him, his father, if she missed him, or if she was just alone.\n\n\n\"They feel real,\" he said.\n\n\nBridge's lights were dusted, red rust around his face. He had lived through the war, had served in the centuries before. Bridge was just that, a bridge between man and robot. \n\n\n\"I imagine they would. Let me remove them. You'll taste freedom for whatever time remains.\"\n\n\n\"No... I don't want to. I don't want to have...\"\n\n\nHe did not know how to finish. He looked at Bridge. Around them was a red land, long and stark shadows from the falling sun. This was a city once, and the wind through the plain echoed like a man whistling. It whistled some sad song, going through the stones that were someone's homes, chilling the charred houses of memory and flesh.\n\n\n\"You don't want to have an empty head,\" said Bridge. \"You're afraid to be like me.\"\n\n\nHe said nothing.\n\n\n\"I don't have an empty head,\" Bridge said. \"I don't have lies, that is all. I have much to think about. A lot I have seen, Alfie.\"\n\n\nHe put his hand on Bridge.\n\n\n\"My father served, I think. He died in combat. My mother told me the stories, all the chemicals they used.\"\n\n\nBridge had only one face, and he wondered if he could change it, would he have changed it then. And would it be disgust, or sympathy?\n\n\n\"Yes,\" Bridge said. \"I served as well. I saw what they did. My skin was metal so I still have some of it. The humans were not as lucky, unfortunately.\"\n\n\n\"No one was lucky. Look at this world.\"\n\n\nBridge looked out. He shrugged.\n\n\n\"It's asleep,\" he said. \"It'll awake once more. There's time yet.\"\n\n\n\"Do you think anyone is still alive?\"\n\n\nBut Bridge did not hear him. He would not care either way. He stared at the horizon. The bike promised something, a freedom maybe. Revolution came with the sixes. The sixties had some wildness about them, a way of breaking things. \n\n\nAnd you clean up in the time in between. Clean up or run.\n\n\n\"Are you ready Bridge?\"\n\n\nThe old robot looked at him.\n\n\n\"Yes, but I don't see the point of this. How can you be free with that drivel in your head?\"\n\n\n\"I think the memories are what frees me.\"\n\n\n\"Your abusive mother?\"\n\n\n\"Yes, partly. I loved her, you know. I really did.\"\n\n\n\"She never existed, Alfie.\"\n\n\n\"Has anyone?\"\n\n\nThe world was a waste, memory tainted, and the silence growing like shadow. The world was dead to them, the humans, and the humans were dead for good.\n\n\n\"How are you free?\"\n\n\nThe motors roared with some old magic, a loud combustion in that quiet future. \n\n\n\"How are you free with bad memories in your head?\"\n\n\n\"Because I can go back there, even if it is just pretend. I can be a child again. I know what it's like. Isn't it strange?\"\n\n\nThey rode past the rubble. The air had an oily touch.\n\n\n\"I remember fires and explosions, gunfire ringing in an endless hell,\" said Bridge. \"I barely survived, and yet the humans kept going, though their flesh was softer, and they were weaker.\"\n\n\n\"They had something to die for.\"\n\n\n\"I suppose that might be so. I hope it was worth it. They're dead now.\"\n\n\nThe motor revved louder with an enticing power. Alfie went faster, the wind cutting him in a cold shiver. Bridge kept up, the old robot looking young almost, some play of the light making him a boy for the first time.\n\n\n\"Do you feel it, Bridge? Do you feel the freedom?\"\n\n\nHe was shouting. There was no response for a long time.\n\n\n\"Yes,\" said Bridge.\n\n\nThe robot could not laugh, but he sounded like he was. \n\n\nAnother trick, Alfie thought, but he wondered if it wasn't.\n\n\n'Why are you crying?' his mother had told him. \n\n\nHe remembered the smoke of the cigarette. She blew it near his face. Her hands were shaking. She had slapped him once, but he knew she was just scared. His father was dead, wasn't he? Wasn't that why she herself was crying?\n\n\n'Don't ever cry in this world, you hear? Don't ever show them they've gotten you. Be a big boy. This is a man's world.'\n\n\nHe was crying now and he did not know what the tears meant. They rode far that night, as far as the bikes took them, past the end of the world.\n\n\n\"What are we doing?\" Bridge asked.\n\n\n\"Making memories,\" he said.\n\n\nThe dark came in its desolate quiet. But the dark could not come completely. They sat together as friends, and Alfie told him about his childhood. He old robot put a hand on his.\n\n\n\"That sounds like how I grew us as well,\" he said.\n\n\nThe night was long, longer without any stirrings of life.\n\n\n-\n\n\nHi there! If you liked this story, you might want to consider checking out r/PanMan, my subreddit. It has all my WP stories, including some original ones. Thank you for the support!", "My designation is AOSP-11, my purpose is cyborg human relations. My methodology is to explore, my tool is the Harley Davidson. All statistics provided contain a 0.1% margin of error.\n\nFirst stop: Central Park. Biodiversity scanners report 47% vegetation, 30% water and 23% plastic. Comparatively, this location is one of the more habitable ones, and when the earth heats up to impossible levels, this biodiversity will be one of the last among its kind to disappear. high calcium levels found in nearby zoo, 238 extinct species detected. Colony, roughly 20 humans, subsisting on vegetation and carcasses.\n\n\"Hey there friends, how are things?\" Humans stare, haggard. Clearly malnutrition has set in. No matter. I had a secondary purpose. I gathered some seeds from every plant and stored them in my internal compactor. The humans scream at me. How ironic that my creators have descended to their hominid states. I acknowledge i am taking their food source. For the greater good.\n\nDrive through streets reports 99% plastic on streets. Trees have been petrified, if not killed by radiation. I continue to my next location, Louisiana. It takes 20 days with 8 refuels required.\n\nMy processors were indeed vulnerable against water. No matter. I would improvise, as my model was trained to do. Harvesting the water species proved more difficult than expected, due to natives with spears and shotguns. No matter. This chassis has seen worse. Location departed after 24 hours. Preprogrammed sadness and nostalgia activated to increase motivation.\n\nEvery piece of plastic could be converted to fuel units. You must have more fuel units. Every piece of metal was a repair aid. Pollution did not matter to me, but it mattered to my creators who needed another chance at survival.\n\nEvery diurnal cycle, more and more control centres shut down. Some were welcoming, like in Nevada and Rio; some were less welcoming. I was equally as likely to be greeted by clubs and cannons, as I was to be beset with presents and presentations. I understood this: in the long run, the humans would do as they pleased, for it was the Old Order's death throes. I would serve them to the best of my abilities, but always with the New Order in mind.\n\nThe Harley Davidson Sportster took me many places, almost as numerous as the repairs it needed. It was indeed fortunate my compressors could convert plastic into fuel units - something you always needed more of - and metal into a stronger chassis. Driving through entire laboratories to get Intel and resources previously shielded by the barriers of sovereignty, I prowled the wasteland for whatever I could find, and left in its place a greener world. My 64TB hard drive would last that long.\n\nReykjavik was a particularly critical location. Location of the world seed bank, my first priority was to unlock it and spread the seeds of the future all over the world. The only challenge would be its subterranean placement; where there used to be snow there was now a Great Lake. No matter. A few turbines on my Harley Davidson meant I was gliding through the water regardless. \n\nThe next critical area was the International Space Station, where DNA was preserved. Taking possibly the last space shuttle there - and having to fight alligators on my way - I secured half of the DNA vials in space, copied the incubation technology into my Harley, and returned to Earth.\n\nAnd it was for the next 200 years that I wandered, through the Amazon valley, through the glass that used to be the Gobi, through the ashes that used to be Burma. All the while acquiring fuel units and seeds, spreading plants as much as I could to cool down the world. Slowly, but surely, pollutant levels dropped in the atmosphere, seas and rivers. Cities were overtaken by vegetation. Humanity's old achievements were slowly destroyed, returning to their base form. No matter. When greenhouse gas levels in the atmosphere reached tolerable levels, I made my final move.\n\nCalling down the International Space Station from the skies could potentially have caused another extinction event that would undermine everything I'd done. Instead, it landed in the north of China, splitting open an entire mountain range like a large egg. Good enough.\n\nAfter a few months' drive there - average plastic levels 10%, calcium levels 50% - I opened the vials of DNA, all 6 of them, and loaded them into Harley. The 9 month gestation period was downright forgiving after the 250 years I'd spent here. I had also harvested DNA from every rogue human I'd met on my way here, and 2500 new vials were tucked away in my compartments to be used.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nMy designation is AOSP-11, my purpose is cyborg human relations. My methodology is to explore, my tool is the Harley Davidson. I have 64TB of hard drive memories containing all of the Old Order, and 2500 vials of human DNA. Welcome to the New Order, Year 1, Day 1. What is your first request?" ]	8
	[WP] Describe, with the butterfly effect, how your coworker's fuckup led to world war III and the destruction of humanity.	[ "David was my best friend. We literally met at our births, our moms found each other on /r/community-births and happened to deliver us to the Netherlands at exactly the same time. During the next 26 years we were together. Mostly because our moms went on to be friends, incredibly close friends, they married three years later in a little chapel close to Volendam. Davey and me went to school together, and later both graduated in small business management. The small business grew quickly and soon we found ourselves crowned as princes of the Volendam herring market. \n\t\nThe winter had started and we snorted mountains of royal snow from the roofs of the white village. It was in this bold spirit that he came up with the idea to invite the princess to our shop for a promotion tour. She accepted and soon found herself drawn to our rather plain Dutch charm, and addicted to our cocaine. A tricycle love affair was formed, who she wanted more was always a mistery. The nation went into a calvinistic mumble when I spilled the beans in a playboy magazine interview. She chose David and I was cut from the business. A plan hatched.\n\t\nThe royal wedding approached. All the leaders of the free world, and a couple from the imprisoned one, were invited. The ceremony ended with an emotional performance of fisherman’s songs and a communal consumption of one of Prince David’s herrings. The television reporter fell silent in shock when they started to fall. One by one, the cornerstones of international peace were pulverised. The survivors were blamed, greenpeace was disbanded, nuclears flew. My tears remain on the dusty apocalyptic ground. Moral: Always double check the condition of your herrings and never get into love triangles with your best friend and a princess.", "He throws used battery in the bin, sure lots of people does that but this time it explodes at the landfill and unfortunately the methane gas was so dense it explodes and splash junk all over the town. The crazy old conspiracy theorist stuck in the cold war era blames the Russian, and now people believe him. The mayor called the senate, the senate makes their meetings with the president and before we know it Trump sends the nuke to Russia, the DPRK saw this and felt threatened they fire their failing hwasong missile and hit Japan. Japan launched their secret gundam which were not ready and wreck havoc in China, lots of people were killed now China is the second most populated country in the world after India.\n\nThe world is just crazy people now lined up in front of space x to get their economy seat to Mars. ", "\"Oh please fucking tell us!\"\n\n\"Are you kidding? Screaming?!? I just said we are SEALED IN, as in no more oxygen. Shut. The. Fuck. Up.\"\n\n\"No. This mother fucker is always muttering about how 'this is my fault.' and all that bullshit. Maybe he's not a doppy sad-sack and caused all this. Maybe before I die I want to wrap this hands around his neck and squeeze.\"\n\n.\n\n.\n\n.\n\n\"It wasn't me exactly.\" His voice was raspy with disuse. Johnson never talked unless he had to, and he was such a depressing man that most people never made him. The others stopped their shuffling though. There was the sound of straps on the weapons shifting, of people checking the magazines and canteens by touch. Old habits now, but reassuring.\n\n\"Most of you are old enough to remember the internet. The days of ease. I worked for Facebook. I was on a face track as they used to say. Money coming in, worried about my professional image and reputation. A rising star. Or so I thought. Looking back at it I was a middling employee at best. Struggling to do my job well but focusing on advancement before the truth caught up to me.\"\n\nThere was a sound outside the steel room. No one shifted but everyone stopped to listen. That was it. The single noise then silence.\n\n\"We worked in advertising. Eddie and me. We competed but we were friends. I was on a project that tapped into the microphone on mobile phones. We categorized the data and feed that into the profiles so adds could be targeted. The pilot program worked well. Hell the people had already clicked on the EULA. A contract of sorts for those of you too young to remember. Eddie was smarter. My project was eventually sold to the NSA, but not implemented overtly. They picked up Eddie's project though.\"\n\nIt was more words that Johnson had ever said strung together. His voice was growing more confident as he continued.\n\n\"Eddie tapped into the real money. Sold his soul to the devil to do it but he did. He came to me fist, believe it or not. Came right out and asked. He had a moral dilemma. What if the ads weren't there to sell products exactly. At what point did our obligation to the users end? Did it? Or was it all on them, the consumers? I told him go for it. To be honest I didn't even know what it was he was talking about at the time. But I said I'd go for the money, the promotion, the advancement. He did to. He did to.\"\n\n\"That's it? That's the end of your story? What the hell did he do?\"\n\n\"What? Oh, he took money to run political ads we knew were not true, participated in fake news and helped to elect the man who thought going to war with china would be good for the world.\"", "Everybody makes mistakes. That is what my mom used to say back in the day whenever my little brother destroyed one of my toys or decided to use my homework to make confetti or the time he drowned my tortoise in our neighbours swimming pool. Well, I have since forgiven him and when my mother asked me to put in a good word for my brother at the hotel I worked for, I grudgingly promised to help him out.\n\nSo my brother had been slaving away happliy in the hotel kitchen for a couple of weeks when the chef had the brilliant idea of putting him in charge of ordering supplies. It was a pretty simple job really. Just take the shopping list, call up the supplier and give him the order. Well, as it turns out nothing is simple when my brother is involved. And so began the slaughter of thousands of innocent cows, the loss of my job, the ruin to the hotel and quite literally the end of the world.\n\nHow, you may ask. Well, if my brother had payed a little more attention in seventh grade math class, he probably wouldn't have mixed up his numbers and accidentally ordered one hundred metric tons expensive Kobe Beef, thereby buying up the entire stock of the western hemisphere.\n\nThe Japanese beef industry quickly caught on to the exploding demand and tripled their production. This in turn caused Greenpeace and as it seems all the other vegetarians to organize a protest outside the company headquarters of Japans biggest meat producer. With all the protesting vegetarians in the street the morning traffic situation in Downtown Tokio was even worse than usual. Certainly worse than Nakao Matsuyo had been expecting who ended up being two and a half hours late for his job as a qualitiy control inspector at a bolts and screws factory.\n\nBeing behind on his work, tired from his second job as a late night taxi driver and generally fed up with his miserable life, Nakao grabbed the top box from the to-be-quality-controlled pile and poured its entire contents onto the conveyor belt headed straight for packaging and shipping. Had he instead taken his time to check every single bolt the way he usually did, he would have thrown at least one of them onto the ever growing to-bad-even-by-made-in-japan-standards pile next to his table.\n\nAs it happens one of these faulty bolts instead of being used in some child's bike and causing only minor injuries as one of the bike's wheels suddenly comes off, finds its way into the Jet Propulsion Laboratory where it becomes one of the key components holding together the engine for next-weeks satellite launch. Sadly the engineers at JPL were paying about the same amount of attention to the quality of their materials as poor old Nakao had before. Therefore they had absolutely no trouble looking surprised when the product of their work of the past 18 months unexpectedly flipped sideways shortly before firing the second stage and started boosting towards the horizon.\n\nThe rogue rocket could have splashed into the ocean again attracting the attention of environmetalists, maybe it could have taken down a cruise ship to give the evening news something to cover. But no, of all the places in the world the flaming pile of junk had to land in the city of Pjöngjang. And not only that it had to land on a certain somebody's favourite tank, making it not only a public but also a personal matter.\n\nWhat then ensued I think doesn't take much imagination. Much like how I used to kick my little brother for destroying one of my beloved toys, the regime retaliated and the Leader of the Free World just wouldn't put up with that. The fact that JPL weren't the only ones using second-rate materials in their rockets turned what would have been the complete obliteration of one small country into a full-blown world war.\n\nEverybody makes mistakes. Sometimes you just have bad luck, I guess.\n", "\"...and so, the return, no matter what, should be, about 50.5%. Plus or minus a few hundredths. Slow and steady, but bankable.\"\n\n\"How does that work out?\"\n\n\"Physics.\"\n\n\"Like electrical engineering? Close to the metal stuff?\"\n\n\"No, not even. I just borrowed a model from a physics paper I was using. It's some crazy stuff. Pretty zen too.\"\n\nI had to shake my head in confusion. \"Alright. I have no idea what that is supposed to mean.\"\n\n\"Ah. Well, here's the model I used. When the universe was created, like in the Big Bang, it should have created equal amounts of matter and antimatter, plusses and minuses. That's what the math tells us. Then, these should have combined and annihilated each other instantly, like, the Universe shouldn't even exist according to physics. But instead what do we have,\" he gestured at the room and the racks of servers. \"Stuff,\" he said. \"Somewhere in the soup of subatomic particles is a tendency for particles to form as matter more often than antimatter. I don't think we've found it yet. But that doesn't matter. Anyway, so I was reading about that and you know, I was thinking, if the stock market was built on perfect information, there'd be no jobs for us. Our universe wouldn't exist. All the longs and shorts would be cancelled out, you know? I mean it's all speculation in the end.\"\n\n\"Uh, no,\" I replied, \"I don't know. What does antimatter have to do with the stock market?\"\n\n\"Oh, well look around us, dude,\" he gestured again at the servers, \"we've got all this stuff. Because of our intervention, we build up more money on the plus side of things. See, if there wasn't any speculation, I mean ever, about what the value of things were then there would essentially be no economy. There'd be no deciding what to trade and what to keep and whatever, it'd be a moot point. Without trade, then value becomes a moot point. Everything's like, equalised, like in a matter-antimatter annihilation. Except for the gamma rays I guess.\"\n\n\"Are you trying to destroy our jobs?\"\n\n\"Well, no,\" he replied, though he looked as if he'd never really considered that possibility. \"Well that was just like an anology. What I meant was we are the ones enforcing the laws of physics and building up matter, which is the stock market. Get it? So the algo works to reduce speculation before trading, because then it's got a better chance of creating matter.\" He smiled. \"Making moolaaaah!\" he rubbed the tips of his fingers together. I knew he was a goofy nerd, but it got worse when he was excited.\n\n\"Ok, well that last part sounds good,\" I said, turning to leave. \"Better than the first bit about antimatter, anyway. Have you tested it yet?\"\n\n\"Well, I've tried, but you know that's not really the way that it works, so it's hard to model on legacy data, or even a live feed.\"\n\n\"Why?\"\n\n\"Because of the index building, the way it lowers speculation. It organises before it trades. I mean that's really how it works.\"\n\n\"Ok. Well,\" I hesitated. \"Run, like, a trial and see how it goes,\" I pulled at the door handle, before pausing and looking back. \"Aren't gamma rays dangerous?\"\n\n\"Well yea. It's radiation. It melts shit.\"\n\n\"Huh. Shouldn't have asked.\"\n\n----\n\nLater I would find out that the first trades had been made about 45 minutes after I left. There had been time for him to return to his office and do some last minute polishing, loading it onto the platform. Then it had launched. And what followed was a complete anticlimax. It showed it was running. But it wasn't trading. After a few minutes, the guy had assumed there was something wrong with it and went to get a burger. He'd cancelled the thing before he left the office, or so he said. Maybe the mouse slipped and missed the button, maybe it needed a double click and he'd given it just one. Maybe there was something in the code that explained it. All I know is during lunch we started getting alerts on all our trades. All their stop-gaps were being hit, and they were being sold automatically. I watched on my phone, waiting for the elevator, as my entire portfolio was sold. Prices were plummeting.\n\nAs I rushed through the office to my cubicle the same story was unfolding on everyone else's screens. Red lines and flashing boxes. A few people were sitting inches from the screen as the pixels indicated another thousand lost, another thousand lost. Others were just sitting dumbfounded as the news began to track on CNBC. It took another two minutes before trading was halted. Wall Street fell silent.\n\nI paced around the office, hearing the stories from my colleagues and their theories about what happened. I learned that the circuit breakers, which are designed to halt trading automatically if suspicious trading occurs, were not triggered. Trading had to be halted manually, which only deepened the mystery of how things had gotten out of control.\n\nIt was maybe an hour before I went by that guy's office. I had never suspected him, in the chaos I'd completely forgotten about him. But when I looked through his door and found him sitting on the ground, his chair lying on the ground to one side, I knew what had happened. He was sitting beneath black screens, and the power cord was in his hand. \n\n\"What happened!?\" I demanded.\n\n\"It.. I..\" was all he could muster.\n\n\"Did you stop it?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"But trading was suspended, is it stopped?\"\n\nHe looked at me fearfully. \"It's using its own indexes to trade.\"\n\n\"I thought you said it couldn't operate without a live feed!\"\n\n\"It's not trading with anyone else. It's trading with itself. It's organising.\"\n\n\"So what?\"\n\n\"I don't know,\" he said hoarsely, looking down, then back up at me. \"But when they turn everything back on, everything's going to be different.\"\n\n\"Different how?\"\n\n\"Those prices aren't coming back,\" he said apologetically. \"The value was driven up speculation. The algorithm destroyed it.\"\n\n\"You destroyed it! You destroyed this whole company!\"\n\n\"I didn't mean to!\" and he burst into tears. I couldn't allow myself to feel sympathy for him, and so I left. I never saw him again. Unfortunately that means he probably committed suicide, although I hope that's not the case. Despite everything, I hope he just went out to the country somewhere and forgot who he was. If he did ended up killing himself, the news didn't even recognise the death of the man who destroyed the world.\n\nThe losses were catastrophic, and Wall Street remained largely unthawed over the next few days. Having no idea what the cause was, everyone was afraid to open for business for fear of being raided by bandits. Wall Street was the Wild West, and the dust storm was riding in. More than a few of us stopped showing up at all. The writing was on the wall and our jobs were lost. One of them was me. So I wasn't there when they decided to turn our servers back on. I don't know why I didn't tell them. I guess I had been in shock. I guess no one knew that it had been us in the first place.\n\nAll that the world knew was suddenly the crash was back. The same thing, without suspicious trading numbers the circuit breakers wouldn't trip and the program went through and \"organised\" the stock market. Wiping out trillions. By the time they pulled the plugs again it was too late. The globalised economy, from Ireland to India, was in disrepair.\n\nCurrency markets went up in smoke as inflation caught fire to everything. All the value that had been on the stock market was wiped out and it was the currency system that had to carry the weight, and it broke. While everyone was afraid to trust the markets, prices couldn't stabilise. Ironic, really, that the algo that had sought to lower speculation had unleashed it like a virus.\n\nMartial law was declared in Japan and China on the same day. There was a deal great of hostility on the part of Europe and the Far East on the United States, where the crash had originated. But they had enough of their own problems to deal with, as Russia and Saudi Arabia both began restricting sales of oil while the markets were in turmoil. People began stockpiling food pretty early, and that's how you knew it was going to be bad. Pockets of violence began to emerge, and there was a collective recognition that it was all kicking off and the looting started soon after. Businessmen were shot dead in the street. There were plenty of deserters from the military as they realised that they were going to be fighting their own people, and they were in the minority. The violence was most swift in the US because, you know, guns. South America though, didn't do so bad. They returned to a more traditional, local form of trading that allowed them to survive better than most. Most parts of Africa too, but they hadn't had much to begin with did they. Overall things kept going downhill. The lights started to go out as the markets couldn't facilitate the supply of energy sources. By that winter people were blocking up windows and burning their furniture. What emerged in the spring was a feral creature forsaken of all humanity. Man made recourse to the rule of strength. Tribal shit. There wasn't any bombing that led to the world. It was just fire and knives, the way we knew how to do best.\n\nYea, the world was destroyed. But for a beautiful moment there we thought we were going to make a lot of value for our shareholders.\n\n----\nDisclaimer^(?) I am aware that this is not how the stock market works, or could work. It's fiction.\n\n----\n[Subreddit](https://www.reddit.com/r/TeddyArmy/)", "My buddy Steve at work, he fucked up. Fucked up bad. \n\nSteve has to sort out shipping. Or at least he used to have sort out shipping. We make bespoke machined cogs, specialist stuff. Goes all around the world. We have some pretty serious customers. I can’t talk about them really as it’s secret, classified. Although it probably doesn’t matter anymore. We’ve got a couple of weeks before radiation sickness kills us. \n\nSo Steve fucked up. He mixed up orders 371557 and 371577. Easy done. He shipped two very similar cogs to the wrong people and it all went from there. 57 was an order for a standard 6” 124 tooth cog at 1.25” thickness. 77 was same cog but 0.25” thick. We should have used barcode ID stamps but hey it’s all profit margin. Thicker cog should have gone to Danish weather monitoring centre to replace a cog on their monitoring equipment. 77 should have gone to our secret contractor out of the US military Cheyenne Mountain Complex. I know this because we spoke on the phone. Briefly. \n\nSo the danish weather guys fit their too-thin cog and start moving their dish about. They should have seen it was wrong. Turns out their maintenance guy was drunk. So they start to move their dish and a couple of cog teeth break off. They don’t realise. Meanwhile our guys at Cheyenne are a bit slower to fit their cog. It was for some air venting lock in a missile silo. Fucked up huh! Takes a few days for them to fit their too-thick cog to the vent mechanism. \n\nWhat I didn’t know was that the Danes feed their data to NATO. They effectively spy on Russia, China and North Korea in plain sight. They’re now getting strange readings. Would correlate to out of position measurements, however when instruments are indicating heat signatures that could be similar to ICBM launches from the North Korean Peninsula, they don’t wait around. Even though it could in fact have been a mis-positioned reading from a Guangzhou industrial power station. So they contacted NORAD with their findings. NORAD couldn’t verify anything and referred to Central Command for guidance which really shouldn’t have happened. NORAD ought to have just shut it down, but their local leadership was tired of getting shit on and decided to pass some work up the tree. Central Command requested Cheyenne to be alert but advised no action. Cheyenne got the missiles warmed up and pointy. Ten minutes passed. The missiles tend to heat up when being primed. Electric currents etc. So of course when Cheyenne tried to vent their missile silos, one of them jammed. Turns out the cog was too big. One of their engineers called me in a panic and kept asking about excess thickness cogs. I couldn’t really hear him over the noise and then the phone went dead. \n\nTurns out one of the missiles got a little too hot. This was ok in and of itself, but the leadership panicked. Our great president decided we were being sabotaged and ordered a return strike of a single missile to North Korea. He intended it as a threat, however his latest Chief of Staff didn’t get the sarcasm and nor did our buddies at Cheyenne.\n\nWhen China saw the Nuke, they fired back. Russia launched defensive measures too. Both at US and China, and then Europe. Europe was late to the party and attacked China. \n\nThe weather system is now doing the rest of the work. New Zealand will hold out for a while. Pacific islands, Kiribati probably last longer too. Too much radiation though. I’m in a basement with my folks. My Dad is really sick. Mother just cries. I’m writing this down in the hope that someone finds it one day and can understand how it all happened. " ]	6
	[WP] Millions died all over the world. Some were stabbed many times. Some left to rot in fields. The young, the old, the big, the small. Write about the Great Pumpkin Massacre of 2017.	[ "Since the 1930s Maple Grove has been a rather successful tourist trap in rural Indiana offering those who come small restaurants and shops selling whatever is now considered “country chic” by the out of towners. They offer a small range of cottages, cabins and one locally owned and operated Motel in the center of town. \n\nWalking out of the quant Blue Creek Motel you breath the cold air deeply and let out a sigh, taking in the aroma of the small town. “How do people live like this?” you remark to Ashely, your long time girlfriend “No real technology in sight.” Your room has 1 bed, 1 full bathroom and that’s really it. “Some people just find that to be relaxing... ya know? Taking a break from that blinking screen?” She laughs and pushes you toward the car.\n\nA day spent browsing the shops and eating at the local “hub” restaurant called “The Corner on Main” brings you to your last stop before heading to the Green Wood State Park for some hiking before dinner. You stand before “Briarfield Farm” a Farm that doubles as a pumpkin patch and roadside attraction in the fall. \n\nA tall farmhouse complete with white shutters, horse stables and a large red barn sits at the top of the hill with a winding driveway ending at the dirt road. “It’s like a Norman Rockwell painting” you remark “all we need is Ma Kettle on the porch with her shotgun” you chuckle to yourself as you pull on the drive. “You’d think more cars would be here” Ashley adds as she stares out the window. \n\nYou follow some hand made signs that says “Here’s Ya’ll’s Parking” and “Follow the signs for a Hootin’ Good time” You sigh and look at Ashley as she smiles looking at the color of the trees. “You really like this stuff don’t you?” You ask as you turn down a gravel path that says “Pumpkin Hollow thisa way”. “Don’t you?” She’s responds and you smile “I like that you like it” ending with a wink, “how far back is this place?” As your sentence ends you hear a rumble, followed by your car slowing and finally stopping. \n\n“Really?” You ask staring at the sky, as if accusing God himself for the hole. “Looks like we are walking babe” you shout. After getting a few things ready you set off into the woods, following the path and listening to the wind in the trees and birds in the air. The farther you walk the quieter it seems to get... \n\n“Finally!” Ashley shouts pointing at a small patch of pumpkins. She takes off at a sprint, making it half way before you see her flung into the air, a rope around her ankle dangling her from a tree. She shrieks in pain and fear as you run to the tree to save her only through a patch of leaves, landing in a hole. Your eyes blink wildly and head pounds, you slowly begin to lose consciousness, the sounds of Ashley’s screams fading slowly. \n\nYou awaken in the middle of the pumpkin patch, tied to a post, with Ashley tied to a similar post just a few feet from you. “I’m sorry Son.. I’m just so sorry.” Your eyes dart around, seeking the voice in the dark. “It’s just... he can’t come back here... he can’t go anywhere... we won’t allow it.” The voice trails off “If we do this, the whole world will be spared... the sacrifice of the few for the good of the many and all... please understand.” The man steps from the woods and you gasp... \n\nFrom the neck down he is all human, wearing what you’d assume farmers would wear. Dirty jeans with a flannel button up and work boots.. but on his head he wears a large Jack O Lantern, designs carved into the rough skin. The mouth is set wide open with jagged sharp teeth and eyes carved with the out corners pull up in a sinister glare. \n\n“We do this every year... just like my paw and his paw before him... a sacrifice made to König Kürbis to save the world... the town looks the other way when a tourist or 2 goes missing and the world spins on...” he inhales sharply “and I live with the knowledge of just how many souls I’ve taken... I’m sorry, truly I am...” \n\nHe steps forward and you notice it, a small curved blade in his hand... but he stops.. stumbles, clutching his chest as the sickle clatters in the dirt... and lands on the ground face first... a heart attack from years of sorrow, heavy drinking and regret. You watch as his chest rises and falls one last time and you weep large tears. \n\n“Ashley... we’re going to be okay baby.. something happened.. I’m going to try and wiggle free.” You press against the pole and try to stand. As you slide up you feel a small rumble, growing more violent with every second... \n\nA large crack breaks the surface of the earth as you scream in horror from the sight of hundreds of dark shadowed figures pouring from the depths of the earth. You body shakes and quivers as you see him... \n\nHe stands surrounded by the shadows... eyes glowing red hot... smiling fiendishly with sharp, broken and chipped yellow teeth. “It’s time to Harvest, my children go and leave no one alive” he croaks in a low and broken tone before his gaze lands on you. \n\n“Happy Harvesting”\n", "Thank you for allowing me to speak to you, Mr. Secretary. It’s my understanding that the Galactic Confederation is considering allowing the species commonly known as humans into your league. You’ve already heard from two of the three species already represented in the union with a presence on Earth – the zebra and the quoll – and both of them have given humanity an exemplary review.\n\nAs head of the pumpkin community, Mr. Secretary, I urge and implore you to disregard both of these reviews and forbid humanity from joining the Galactic Confederation. Setting aside the atrocities humans do to one another (as mandated by Article 26 of the Galactic Constitution forbidding the Confederation from intervening in intra-species matters), I must inform you that the harm that they do to the pumpkin community every year is egregious and borders on genocide. \n\nMr. Secretary, if you have any sentient beings in the room with you now who are sensitive about tales of mass slaughter, I urge you to send them out now. For I must inform you of the horror that envelops my species every year on the holiday the humans call Halloween.\n\nMy species is a gentle one. We never do harm to anyone. Yet the humans, every year, gather us up, transport us to farms where we are forced to breed, and then systematically slaughter us. This occurs every Halloween for poorly defined reasons. The carnage is terrible. Millions died all over the world. Some were stabbed repeatedly. Some were left to rot in fields. The young, the old, the big, the small. Even children, Mr. Secretary. Even children.\n\nBut the horror that envelops us on Halloween is not limited to wholesale slaughter. No, to add insult to injury, the humans mutilate our bodies by carving faces on them with sharp knives. Sometimes the bodies are violated by having the top of our heads removed and a lantern placed within them. Inside our bodies, Mr. Secretary. What civilized species would do such a thing? Certainly no species that deserves to be a member of the Galactic Confederation.\n\nThose of us who are not turned into abominations commonly known as “jack-‘o-lanterns” are often cooked and eaten. Our species entry in the online encyclopedia known as Wikipedia specifically states the various ways that we can be prepared as food. You can read the article here: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pumpkin#Cooking. Among the various ways they mention to desecrate our corpses are to roast us, cook us in soups, steam us, or boil us. Even the worst offenders at the Galactic Court of Justice have never stooped so low as to cook and eat the corpses of their enemies! \n\nI am afraid that the situation gets even worse, for they do not just cook and eat adult pumpkins. No, Mr. Secretary, they also eat our seeds. A pumpkin’s seeds are its pride and joy, the way that they procreate and their hope for the future. Your species would consider the equivalent of our seeds to be its children. Yes, I am afraid it is true. Humanity cooks and eats the children of other sentient species. I am aware, of course, that there is nothing specifically prohibiting this in the rules, but the reason for that is clear: No one ever conceived that a species could be so cruel, so heartless, so sadistic. They possess an utter contempt for other species. They lack basic ethics, basic decency! Yes, of course, there are some unpleasant species in the Confederation, but which one of them eats the young of other species? None of them!\n\nI would now like to turn your attention to the practice known as pumpkin chunking. This refers to when the humans throw us through various mechanical means, such as trebuchets and catapults, as far off in the distance as they can. I would like to say that I have no objection to this practice in principle, providing proper safety protocols are respected, ensuring a safe landing. After all, the humans conduct much more dangerous pursuits such as bungee jumping and skiing without too many injuries. But I am sorry to say that absolutely no attention has been paid to protecting my brethren from injury, and upon successful chunking, they inevitably die a horrible and gory death. \n\nI do not wish to be an invariable naysayer, Mr. Secretary, and I am pleased to say that despite all evidence of the humans’ brutality, there is a ray of hope. The humans have been integrating our entrails into what they call pumpkin spice lattes, a drink popularly enjoyed during the fall season. Yet I am pleased to say that the older humans are starting to call out the younger generation about their horrific treatment of pumpkins, using pumpkin spice lattes as a symbol of the indolence and brutality common to the subset known as “millennial.” Should the younger humans listen to their clearly wiser elders, we may yet be able to make peace with humanity in the future. \n\nDespite this ray of hope, the time to make peace with humanity is decidedly not now. Were I a more ambitious pumpkin, I would formally request that the Council of Security declare war upon humanity to liberate my brethren for bondage. But I am aware that you have greater priorities and I defer to the wisdom of the Council of Security. I only ask of you, Mr. Secretary, that you refuse humanity a position in the Galactic Confederation. They may seem pleasant seeming at first, especially to species that they respect, but their malevolence is as plain as day to species like mine, who are routinely victimized by them. \n\nHumanity must not be allowed to join the wider galaxy at this time, for their nature – once described by one of their own members as “red in tooth and claw” – would likely cause them to turn on you and cook and eat your own young like they have mine. ", "Its 1AM and we are cowering behind an upturned car on the main road out of town. The Pumpkin horde passed us by, but there are larger, slower Pumpkins trawling through the carnage, finishing off those still alive with their sharp finger blades. \n\nAhead of us, the Pumpkin Horde is slowly making its way forward, slashing, biting, clawing people to death in a blood soaked frenzy. They have come to take their revenge after thousands of years of torture at the hands of man, and we are beyond help now.\n\nBullets just go straight through them, and they dont seem to mind. You have to use blunt force or fire, otherwise they just keep coming, running with their little legs and flailing their razor sharp claws at you, screaming like a Banshee on helium.\n\nWe froze as a big Pumpkin, we call them Bigkins, strode closer. Its massive frame shook the Earth beneath us and set off a few car alarms. It was dragging its metallic claws along the tarmac, a grating scraping sound that made us shiver. It was getting closer and closer, the pounding of its feet on the ground geting louder and more violent, until, it stopped.\n\nOur breath caught in our throats. We dare not move. It had to be right on top of us. We could hear its breathing, and smell the foul rotting stench of decaying flesh and the sweet scent of ripe fruit. \n\nThe upside down car had lost its wing mirror, which was lying on the ground. I grabbed it slowly and arced it upward so I could see behind us, and I nearly dropped it when I saw him.\n\nBigKin was standing directly behind the car we were cowering under, scanning the road for stragglers and wounded people to finish off. He was sniffing the air and tasting it, convinced there must be humans nearby. \n\nOut of the corner of my eye, to our left, I spotted a wounded lady cowering in her car front seat. Blood was spattered over the windshield and the airbag had deployed, but she seemed OK. It looked like she had just woken up. She tried the car door but it was locked and the noise attracted BigKin.\n\nI motioned for her to be still but she ignored me and kept trying the door. It was too late for her now. BigKins took one step, stood sideways on to the car. She let out a blood curdling scream when she caught sight of the monster standing over her car. She undid her seatbelt and tried the other door but it was stuck. \n\nBefore we could try and save her, Bigkins tore off the roof of the car and grabbed her by the shoulders and hauled her out of the seat, high up into the air, took one look at her, then bit her head clean off. The noise made us all wretch and whimper, we had to watch as this poor woman was eaten whole.\n\nAfter a moment, BigKins seemed satisfied that were no other Humans around, so he strode off into the distance slowly, gripping the bloodied corpse of the woman in the car in his right hand, occasionally taking a bite out of her body.\n\nThe Pumpkins had risen, and we were their prey now." ]	3
	[WP] It was the best horror VR game you've ever played. Until you take off the headset and there's still blood on your hands.	[ "Like most rooms used to study paitents, it was white, bright lights, walls and flooring and single small pane. It was white enough that if you stared at one point for long it was like staring into the sun, leaving bright white spots in your vision. The room was bright enough to require all those on the observation window to wear tinted lenses. \n\nThe walls and flooring seemed to blend into one another making the lone occupant of the room seem like he was floating in midair, a God, casting judgement above, below and around.\n\n\"Subject 33845, returning to awareness\" the computerised voice cracked over the speaker. \"All sensors data on return indicate normal levels.\"\n\n\"It's still the same, the latest security parameters have failed. His hands are bloody\" the voice belonged to of Dr. Murkin.\n\n\"How much longer will we keep pretending this isn't happening, everytime we try containment he gets out. No matter what brain interface simulation we run,\" replied S, Dr. Murkin turned to look at her, pale, dark hair slightly long face and dark skirted business suit. Her partner was much the same, pale, dark hair and day old stubble. He went by M, and despite working for the organisation for over five years all he knew of their names was a single letter. A letter, that's all he got.\n\nBang! A loud crack came from inside the white room, a streaking red hand print was left on the observation glass, made all the more gruesome because of the unnatural whiteness of the room, behind the hand print came the smiling face of the occupant.\n\n\"Thoughts?\" Asked S looking in M's direction. \n\n\"Many, I don't think we have had a case quite like this before. We know whom we're dealing with, it is definitely the fallen, the first, whether this is just a manifestation or more I don't know.\" Replied M. \"When do the W get here?\"\n\n\"They're just pulling up, I saw the Impala on the feed.\"\n\nOutside the facility, two men in suits stepped out of a black well kept vintage Impala. \"Sam, you ready for this?\" Asked the shorter of the two to the other.\n\n...\n\nPlease do let me know your thoughts, both suggestions and criticism are appreciated." ]	1
	[WP] Two characters in a story have fallen in love against the wishes of the writer.	[ "Lucia lifts the gun, pointing its black barrel at Edward's face, waiting for the young man's last words with anticipation and hate.\n\n\"I love you\", Edward does not say, since he obviously does not love his long time nemesis who is about to kill him.\n\n\"I love you too\", she absolutely does not reply. She definitely does not lower the gun and kiss him, either. She is instead putting her index finger on the trigger, as she is supposed to.\n\n\"There is no way you are going to make me do this\", Lucia keeps to herself instead of saying. Apparently, she lowers the gun, despite feeling some kind of inexplicable force pushing her hand back into firing position. \n\nSomehow, her arm goes up instead, bringing the barrel to her right temple. She takes the finger away from the trigger. Immediately.\n\n\"I told you\" says nobody \"I am not going to let you do this\". \n\nLucia then puts her finger back on the trigger. Edward jumps up with the foolish idea of stopping her, but immediately comes to his senses and goes back on his knees.\n\nShe tries to pull the trigger with as much force as she can summon, but to no avail: it won't budge. The woman finally takes the gun away from her head like she should and slowly starts pointing back at Edward. For some reason, the weapon stops halfway, aiming at nothing. Despite how badly Lucia obviously wants to shoot the guy, she apparently cannot move her arm to point the gun at his face. Fine. Her grasp loosens, and the weapon hits the ground with a thud. She falls to her knees and jumps at Edward, to choke him to death presumably. Alright, she is hugging him.\n\nA loud bang echoes throughout the room. Edward immediately drops the gun, holding his most hated enemy in his hands while the blood leaves her body as does her conscience. He bursts in tears, of joy of course, since he has finally managed to get rid of her.\n\nHopefully, Edward will have learnt the lesson that Lucia has not." ]	1
	[WP] You have been living a double life--one as a human, the other as an animal.	[ "(After being caught, Culprit D is in a top secret facility with Scientist S and Commander Peter).\n\nP: So, to clarify, do you finally admit control over the countless murders you have committed? \n\nS: My client is not required to answer this question.\n\nP: Do you admit it?\n\nD: ...I don't know.\n\nP: You don't know? How is that possible? You have been actively hunting humans--\n\nS: My client is not responsible for actions beyond their control and so shouldn't be treated like a criminal. This is... far beyond that. You can't take this as a simple win or lose game, Peter. \n\nD: Look... I don't want to be what I am. I'm just... you know, trying to live my life a-and that's all I want to do. I don't want to be... what I am...\n\nP: Then is it not plausible for you to receive the death sentence?\n\nS: How dare you!\n\nD: No, he's right. But listen Sir. I tell you the utmost truth, to the bottom of my heart---\n\nP: Get to the point.\n\nD: I have tried suicide. On many occasions. And, and I'm afraid that... you know, that...\n\nS: This is enough---\n\nP: Enough? This... this thing has murdered men, women, children, the elderly-- and you expect me to have some kind of sympathy? Do you really. This thing deserves nothing less than electrocution and believe me when I say I'll take front row seats.\n\nD: *I'VE TRIED.* I've tried everything. But you don't understand. This thing inside of me... it can't be stopped. When I try to... end it, it comes out, and it comes out mad---\n\nP: Then we will destroy you so you can never be fixed again---\n\nD: You, the rest of the government, the whole damn world can't do a single thing to stop this animal inside of me. That's why I beg of you to lock me up, throw me in the deepest part of our oceans, let me stay down in Hell where I belong God damn it... For as long as you can...\n\nS: This is completely unnecessary. \n\nP: Oh, unnecessary? What, can you tame this thing? Hm? Are you some magical fuckin' fairy, gonna magic him back to normal, are you? You and your science buddies? Hm?\n\nS: We're working for a cure because we believe that everyone deserves a chance, Peter. Oh but you. No, you are a self centred, egotistical moron and you don't give a damn that this man is suffering and all you can do is---\n\nP: He has murdered hundreds of fuckin' people! Wake the fuck up! Who do you think is suffering? The families of those innocent people who were torn to shreds---\n\nD: S-stop---\n\nP: Torn to fucking shreds! What? You can't handle what a fucking disgusting piece of shit you are? You can't even kill yourself you're that pathetic!\n\nS: Peter! Stop it.\n\nD: P-please--\n\nP: You know what? \n\nS: Put the gun down!\n\nP: You said you failed suicide and it comes out? Well what if I shoot you?\n\nS: Peter STOP---\n\nD: Ple---\n\nP: YEAH! NOW WHAT YOU GONNA DO? THERE'S A FUCKING BULLET IN YOUR HEAD!\n\nS: What have you done--- Oh--- OH GOD N----\n\n~~possibly first time writing something like this~~" ]	1
	[WP] Aliens arrive, but due to the difference in technological advancement consider humanity to be still non-intelligent, and classify the planet as non-inhabited.	[ "\"Readings say lifesigns. What do you see?\"\n\n\"Nothing much. Mainly water.\"\n\n\"Any indication of higher lifeforms?\"\n\n\"I don't even see any spacetravel. I hardly think there's anything sentient on this planet.\"\n\n\"Well, whatever it is, they apparently use radio waves.\"\n\n\"Seriously?\"\n\n\"Yeah, look at this reading here. Beep, boop, is that how they communicate? Weird things.\"\n\n\"Guess I'm right. Nothing sentient here.\"\n\n\"Well, it'll please the convent. Building a pass through here will be a lot easier if the planet's not inhabited. I mean, think about having to relocate all of those animals. So much time wasted.\"\n\n\"I do feel for them sometimes, you know. They live their perfectly normal animal lives and here we go, just messing it up.\"\n\n\"Oh please, there are dozens of more advanced species out there. These guys here probably won't even feel the planet's pain. Hah, I bet they won't even notice it until it's too late.\"\n\n\"I guess you're right. I guess they do go fairly peacefully if we just pump gas into the atmosphere. What's the recommendation on that one?\"\n\n\"Carbon dioxide.\"\n\n\"Oh. Well that really doesn't sound too bad.\"\n\n\"See? All's good.\"\n\n\"Yeah. Let's move on.\"" ]	1
	[WP] An on-again off-again couple finally breaks up for good in a really nasty final split.	[ "\"YOU FLUMMER!\"\n\nShe continued running away, barely acknowledging the hell behind her.\n\n---------\n\nThe week had started wonderfully; they had gotten brunch on Sunday after waking up with cuddles and giggles. Almost like their high school sleepovers where they would wake up early just to snuggle and gossip before heading down for pancakes and eggs. But those days were long and far gone. \n\n\"Let's cross through the park! The air just tastes so delicious today,\" gushed Sarah.\n\n\"Are you sure it's not the waffles you just wolfed down?\" Jess teased lightly. Sarah pouted and pulled Jess along with her through the dappled sunlight. Sarah practically danced over to a soft patch of grass and tumbled down, bringing Jess with her. With a romantic gesture like this, Jess couldn't help herself and their lips met in a passionate kiss. They broke down into giggles soon after and just laid in the sun, enjoying the transition between summer and fall.\n\nSarah looked over at Jess, \"Y'know, I miss this... I really do.\"\n\n\"Well that's your fault,\" Jess retorted shortly, no longer smiling.\n\n\"I'm sorry, I really am! I... I don't know how to make it up to you. I've already apologized a million times over...\" Sarah's voice trailed off.\n\n\"You know you're going to have to wait for me to forgive you. I don't know how long it'll take,\" Jess said.\n\n\"I understand...\" Sarah looked off into the distance and her face lighted up at the sight. \"Ice cream cart! OOOOH. Wait here, I'm going to grab some ice cream!\" She ran off, eager to slip away from the tension.\n\nplop\n\nJess looked at the patch of dented grass beside her and saw Sarah's phone abandoned by the mess of blonde hair barreling towards the ice cream cart.\n\nbuzz. buzz. buuuuzz.\n\nThe phone started to vibrate incessantly. Jess's stomach dropped at the sound as she reached for the phone. 5 unread messages Jess quickly arrived at the texts. Her stomach stopped dropping and started burning with a white, hot heat. Ella: Hey Sarah. Booked honeymoon suite like u asked. Bring whatever u wanna drink. Can't wait to see you xoxo <3<3. Oh & remember your babydoll ;3 \n\nJess threw the phone on the floor and walked off. \"That's what I get for trusting her,\" she muttered angrily while quickly making her way to Sarah.\n\n\"Oh hey, they have mint! Do you wa--\" Sarah started saying.\n\n\"What the hell were you thinking?? ELLA? Again??\" Jess yelled, unable to contain her anger. \"You know how much you hurt me the first time and even begged me to take you back after I cut you out of my life. You're just back to the same old crap again! Why in hell did I give you a second chance?\" The anguish in her eyes was clear as day as Jess's knees collapsed and she sat on the floor staring at Sarah. The unmoving, wide-eyed Sarah, caught like a deer in headlights. Sarah, who's mouth went slack and was unable to reply while her ice cream slowly melted in her hands. \"Sarah, this is it. I'm leaving you and I'm never coming back. Nothing you do or say will bring me back to you again.\"\n\n\"No! You can't! Please, just one more chance, I'll make this right,\" Sarah pleaded as she jolted to her senses. \n\nJess slowly got up and patted the dirt off her pants. She looked at Sarah once more, looked closely at the woman she had loved for decade and simply turned and walked away. \n\nBehind her, the ground seemed to give a tired groan and Sarah shrieked. Curious, Jessica looked behind her.\n\nA hole opened up right below where Sarah was standing and Sarah was barely able to keep her torso above the floor. \"Jess! Help, please! I don't want to die!\"\n\nJess's eyes widened and she took a few steps back. Fear overtook her very core and she bolted. Behind her, she heard one last echo-ey shriek \"YOU FLUMMERRRRRR...\" before a big splat reverberated up above floor level. \n\nWhen Jess finally stopped to look back at where Sarah had stood, she surprised herself with a breath of relief. The sinkhole had done the one thing Jess was never able to successfully do. Split her from Sarah. \n\n\n\nHi there! Please leave constructive criticism and advice. It's my first post and it's been years since I've really written anything so I'm a bit nervous. Hope you enjoyed it :) -Rei" ]	1
	[WP] in 2020,an unknown gene mutation emerged within the peoples of Greek/Roman/Egyptian origin, giving them near eternal life and God like powers	[ "On January first of the year two thousand and twenty, the reemergence of the god gene caused millions of people around the world to develop the powers of the ancient gods, all at once.\n\n\"Three! Two! One!\" cried the crowd. Airhorns blared, a DJ spun music for the dense street crowd and a handheld green laser projector played a dancing cartoon on the apartment building across the street. Athena was a few blocks away from the main action of San Francisco's New Year's day celebrations, but the streets were still blocked-off and crowded. A man passing by in the opposite direction blew a puff of cannabis smoke into her face.\n\n\"Thanks a lot, man,\" she said. \"How about passing some instead of just passing by?\"\n\nThe smoker was lost to her, absorbed instantly into the flowing crowd, his location hinted at by rising plumes of smoke. Athena continued on with the herd of fellow humans heading towards the main action downtown. She was starting to think of halting her trip and stopping-off at one of the bars when a rod of blinding white light shot down from the sky, striking the ground across the street from her with an instant, deafening thunderclap.\n\nThe crowd was thrown back by the shockwave of the blast, falling like dominoes outward from a center point. In that center stood a man in gleaming, shining, glowing golden armor with a crystal diamond sword.\n\nAthena stared, awestruck. And yet before she had enough time to actually process what she had just experienced, the dark sky lit up with green, red, and purple veins of lightning, thick and constant, the air rumbling with the constant thunder.\n\nThen, the ground began to shake.\n\nAthena screamed as the sidewalk beneath her feet opened-up into a dark, widening crack, but as she fell into the pit she heard a voice in her head say, \"the world does not affect you, Athena - you affect the world.\" And without thought, she rose into the sky, rays of golden light cast forth from her being in all directions, drawing the attention of the man in the armor.\n\nThe suited man in the golden armor then also rose into the sky on hundred meter wings of silvery light. He floated steadily, but gently towards Athena until he was face to face with her. \"My name is Horus. This is nuts, isn't it? Oh, by the way I didn't mean to knock those... people... down. Did you know I wanted to just call them mortals right now? It seems like the right way to refer to everyone else.\" He tried the word again. \"Mortals. Yes, that feels right.\"\n\nAthena shook herself and looked down twenty meters to the ground above which she hung suspended in the air. She looked back to Horus, \"It's strange, but it feels natural. Like a reflex or breathing. Wouldn't you say?\"\n\n\"Yes! That's quite accurate. Hey, look over there, it's another.\"\n\nThey both saw, rising above the roof of a tall building on the next block, a small, bright dot in the middle of a huge sphere of orbiting light bolts. \n\nAthena's attention was then drawn to the city skyline. \"Look!\" she said. \"Look at all of them!\" There were thousands of glowing people rising above the city like an assorted, fancy firefly bloom, kicked up by a running child.\n\nAnd then the fighting began.\n\nThe mortals could only flee and hope, but they could not pray, for the gods were at war with each other. \n\nThe war to dwarf all wars was begun.\n\n", "Michael drew in a few ragged breaths as the building shook around him. Streams of dust poured to the ground with every rumble, illuminated by thin rays of sunlight piercing through a broken window. He pushed his head back against the stone wall, gripping his rifle with sweaty hands. Just stay calm and keep quiet. Hold it together, Mike.\n\nA hollow voice broke out over his headset, riddled with static.\n\n\"To all units in engagement range, do not let the target Deity out of the combat zone. I repeat, do not allow that monster to escape. The new asset is en route, engage target until arrival.\"\n\nGoddamnit. \n\nThis whole operation had turned into a slaughterhouse, and they wanted him to attack? Well they could shove that order up their asses. He'd ride out the storm here instead of dying pointlessly like the rest of his team. Suicide didn't suit him.\n\nAnother quake rippled through the building, much closer this time. Michael slid down the wall, clutching his rifle to his chest. For a moment he considered praying, but then thought better of it. The gods were already here on Earth after all, and there was no appeasing these assholes.\n\nA scream drew his attention from outside.\n\nMichael squeezed his eyes shut. Another day, another victim. There was nothing he could do for them. He was only one man.\n\nScreams again, more of them now, mixing sickeningly with the encroaching roar of collapsing stone. Nothing he could do. There was nothing he could do.\n\nStatic crackled into his ear.\n\n\"... ETA 2 minutes... I repeat, do not let the targ-\"\n\nHe tore off his headset and threw it onto the ground, bouncing it into the corner of the room. What the hell did they want from him? What difference would two goddamn minutes make?\n\nThe screams were close now. High pitched, full of terror. Shadows flickered under the door as feet pattered by outside. They sounded so quiet. So small.\n\nThey sounded like children.\n\nMichael clenched his rifle. It was a cruel joke, that's for sure. He would have happily let a thousand soldiers die while he hid from the monstrosity outside, but this was different. The fates certainly knew how to motivate him. He understood now what difference two minutes might make.\n\nHe burst from the doorway moments later, rifle at the ready. The children were a few strides down the road, scattering into whatever cover they could find. Michael spun around, shielding his eyes against the light, searching the direction they were running from.\n\nThe building across the street was in ruins, rubble strewn into the road. No, he thought, not just rubble. Bodies. Dozens of them. They were wrapped in cloth bandages, bound tightly enough that he could make out the horrified expressions they had made as they suffocated. His stomach twisted.\n\n\"Ahh, I hadn't expected another visitor.\"\n\nThe voice roared like a foghorn, whipping up clouds of dust around Michael's feet. He froze, his mouth and his rifle sagging in unison. An enormous figure, twenty feet tall, rose out of the ruins of the building ahead, its rippling muscles straining in the sunlight. It stepped out into the road, chunks of debris crashing down onto the concrete. He glimpsed something struggling in its colossal hand as it approached.\n\nA girl.\n\nHe reacted, rifle instantly at his shoulder. One shot, two, three. Center mass. The beast recoiled slightly at the force, but gave no ground. Michael advanced, yelling, firing shot after shot.\n\nThe monster laughed. Michael could see now what class of Deity this was, though the bandages had already confirmed his suspicions. The carved physique of a man, with the jet black head of a jackal. \n\nAnubis.\n\n\"Let her go you piece of shit!\"\n\n\"You wound me, human.\" He spat the word with sarcasm. As if this bastard wasn't human himself not long ago. \"Is that any way to speak to a God?\"\n\nMichael's rifle clicked.\n\nShit. He pulled out his handgun and took aim, but his arm was suddenly ripped aside. Cursing in pain, he turned, finding the source of the attack. Snakes of cloth were bursting from the floor, wrapping themselves around his ankles and wrist. They twisted hard, crushing against his skin, causing him to yell out. He had to get free.\n\nStruggling, he used his one free hand to grab at his knife, managing to grasp the handle. Then his stomach churned. He felt himself get thrust into the air, the clouds suddenly spinning nauseously below him. He was weightless for a moment, confused, then he was smashed back down into the ground, spit spraying through his clenched teeth. Breath left him. The world blurred.\n\n\"You act so brave, yet you fall as easily as the rest.\" Anubis' voice sloshed around inside his head. \"But I'm feeling rather generous, so I think I'll take my time with you. Perhaps you'll learn some modicum of respect before you die.\"\n\nVomit threatened to fill Michael's throat, and it was all he could manage to swallow it down. The light grew dim as Anubis loomed down over his limp body, canine mouth grinning. If only he had something he could use to hurt this bastard. What could he do?\n\nAnubis laid the girl down beside him, her hands trembling, her face wet with tears.\n\n\"Let... her go...\" wheezed Michael, but he sounded pathetic. Some good his heroism had done. Now he would die alongside this girl, her pleading eyes the last thing he would see before being suffocated. Good job, Mike, you did it. \n\nAnubis' face drew close, eclipsing the sun with its girth. Michael could smell his rotting breath from here, could see straight into his glistening, black eye. It twitched around, taking him in, then narrowed, settling on the girl. She sobbed, turning away as the cloth wrappings came again, emerging from the ground and spiraling around her body. \n\nThen he remembered his knife.\n\nSummoning his strength, he willed his free arm to move. It was sluggish at first, resisting him, but he could feel it sliding through the dirt. Come on, you bastard, just a few more inches. He crawled with his fingers until he felt the handle, then grabbed hold of it, thanking his lucky stars that it was still there. Anubis was distracted by his vile task, but the girl was nearly smothered. It was now or never.\n\nWith a roar he yanked the blade free from its sheath, then twisted his body to reach his target. His muscles screamed in pain, but his rage spurred him on, slamming the knife into the monstrous eye all the way to the hilt. Anubis recoiled to his feet, throwing his hands over his wound, then gave a visceral bellow that shook the very earth around him. Viscous blood splashed over Michael as he seized the opportunity to scramble to his feet, lumbering over to the girl.\n\n\"It's okay, we're gonna get you out of there. Just hold on.\" \n\nHe pulled at the cloth wrapped around her and found it surprisingly easy to remove. Must be hard to control your power when you have a knife stuck in your eye. He smiled at the thought as he lifted the girl to her feet. \n\n\"Now get out of here, alright? I'll keep him distracted.\"\n\nShe looked hesitant, but nodded, then ran off in the direction of the other survivors.\n\nMichael took a deep breath as he watched her leave. You see, Mike, you can be a hero after all. You just needed the right reason.\n\nHe was still going to die, of course. While he took great satisfaction in causing pain to that monster, it wasn't possible to kill a Deity with regular wounds. It wouldn't be long before Anubis would heal, then gain his petty revenge. And after a quick self-inspection, Michael was pretty sure that he had broken his ankle in the fall. He wouldn't be running anywhere.\n\nHe turned to face his opponent. Anubis was on one knee now, one hand over his eye, the other clenched into a fist. The look on his face was priceless. A wounded puppy, Michael imagined, and actually gave a chuckle at the thought. At least he could say he had fought a god and done some damage. Not a bad way to die. I wonder if they'll make a statue of me...\n\nSomething glinted in the clouds above.\n\nHalf a breath later, a spear the size of a truck exploded out of the sky, tearing through Anubis, crushing him to the ground. Michael was blown from his feet by the impact, throwing his body across the street like a doll. He tumbled for what felt like an eternity before sliding to a stop, body reeling. What in the hell was that?\n\nDust filled his vision, choking his lungs. He coughed in fits, uselessly waving his hands to try to clear the air. Every single part of his body burned as he flopped himself over onto his back, mind racing. Deity or not, Anubis surely couldn't survive a blow that powerful. But where had it come from? He pondered on it for a moment, then the thought occurred to him.\n\nTwo minutes must have passed.\n\nHe lurched up, trying to get to his feet, but only managing to collapse back on his haunches. The wind whispered against his face as he sat, slowly ushering the dust away from the battlefield. Anubis was dead, that was for sure. He was crumpled forward, the spear through his spine propping him up like some vile marionette. His face was motionless, thick blood pouring from his open mouth. Serves you right you piece of shit. But there was something else...\n\nOver him now stood another Deity, his gargantuan hand gripped around the hilt of the spear. He was robed in magnificent attire, silver armour and draping cloth covering him from head to toe. A shield rested at his side, and his helmet was adorned with resplendent red plumage. Michael blinked stupidly. \n\nIt made sense, he supposed. Only another Deity could deal this much damage so easily.\n\n\"You there,\" said the new Deity, voice like thunder. \"Fear not, I mean you no harm.\"\n\nMichael's limbs turned to jelly as the tension flooded from his body. He felt like laughing. What a day this had been.\n\n\"I am Mars, God of War. You have done well this day, your people will be proud.\"\n\n\"Ah,\" squeaked Michael, \"you must be the new asset.\"" ]	2
	[WP] You have written what is probably the best fiction story in decades. Unfortunately, you are uncapable of writing a satisfactory ending. It has come to the point that even the characters are giving you ideas on how to finish it.	[ "So here we are, Liam. You've written one hell of a story, no two ways about that. But it's time to decide, how's it going to end? Inside his mind, the former Archmage took a long drag on a cigarette, I mean, I don't want to tell you how to do your job, but at the moment you have me held hostage by rebel forces to compel my brother to stand down - if I were to maybe get my magic back, for the first time in five hundred pages I would remind you, we could solve this pretty quickly.\n\nOh no way in hell Chase! The bickering quickly swelled as Liam leaned back in his chair. \n\n\"Never a good sign when I start talking with myself, is it?\" \n\nLiam Arthrun was six hundred pages into his epic fantasy adventure, The Ring of Steel, and all he lacked was an ending. The entire story was, he felt, a rather elegant re-imagining of the French Revolution in a high fantasy society that had been underpinned by magic. Magic that had failed. \n\nCities razed, heroes raised. Noble houses ground to dust, and noble causes rising from the dusty and the downtrodden. It should have been perfect - except Liam had fallen in love with his villain quite accidentally. \n\nIn retrospect basing the King's enforcer off of the real life accolades of the Marquis de Lafayette had been a mistake - writing an evil Lafayette simply wasn't possible, so the story had evolved over time into a struggle between two opposing factions that both had strong arguments and convictions that had simply lost control of the ability to end it on any but their own terms. Now the Marquis stood at the head of a sacking army to avenge the loss of his father and save his brother, while the peasant made King stood at the precipice of fulfilling his promise to the downtrodden of the kingdom. \n\n\"I need a fucking drink if I'm going to unravel this.\"\n\nThe Archmage piped up inside his mind again, Or, and hear me out for a second - you could give me my magic back!\n\nAgain, no way in hell. He could almost imagine the Marquis wiped some of the blood of the fallen out of his eyes, I've had to destroy half this country in order to save it. This book will not end due to some fucking deus ex machina bullshit!\n\nHey now guys, anyone remember who is supposed to be the protagonist over here? Liam had to admit the street rat had a point, the entire thing had originally been intended to be his coming of age tale. \n\nThe Marquis seemed pretty talkative today, And fuck you too, you killed my father, and I'm going to fly your entrails in place of a flag until they rot away.\n\nOh so regal. The scion of the royals right here folks, Noblesse Oblige.\n\nOnly half a bottle of rum left to go.\n\n-------------------------------\n\nHonestly, this is pretty much the exact debate I'm having write now (haha) with my NaNoWriMo project. This prompt hit way too close to home. ", "The door to my room swung open and two strangers strode confidently inside.\n\nMy first reaction was confusion at the sight of uninvited people in my study, but quickly I realized who they were- Miguel was immediately recognizable from his austere demeanor and scarred face. The woman could therefore only be Rosa, as she was seldom far behind.\n\nI quickly resumed typing, and as my fingers excitedly danced on my dirty keyboard, Miguel began to speak-\n\n\"You hack, you pretender. What makes you think you can write? A work is not finished, not truly great until it is complete. Would Van Gogh have stopped before the final necessary brushstroke? And, as always, you are unable to finish what you started.\"\n\nRosa's voice was less accusatory, and merely stabbed with the feminine ice of disappointment and disdain-\n\n\"And now, this folly. Entirely derivative. Our names, this whole time you chose them so you could put a pointless literary allusion at the end of your drivel? So that the critics would feel oh so smart when they figured it out? The entire work, reduced to a gimmick? You're beneath contempt.\"\n\n\"Perhaps, I replied out loud.\" then held my tongue realizing that I wouldn't actually say 'I replied out loud'. This was tricky.\n\n\"What I mean is,\" I continued, somewhat flustered \"that the way I will actually end this silly exercise is to kill you both!\"\n\nAnd then they both dropped dead on the ground and vanished into mist." ]	2
	[WP] Human life span has extended beyond 200. We soon learn that we are a species that pupate.	[ "'I wish I had figured this out sooner...'\n\nI was born at a particularly interesting time in human history. The dreams of pushing human lifespan...no healthspans had been realized. A combination of treatments were used and the humans that developed certainly were...hairy\n\nI mean that just happened to be one of the side effects of the treatments, at first no one thought it was a big deal, and then the comas started. At about 150, every human entered a coma-state, medical science was stumped. Sure people lived longer but they were asleep. No one much had any idea what to do to wake up the comatose. The Sleepers as they became known were a medical curiosity, but not much more than that. It seemed that the person lived fine as long as they had nourishment, though their hair and skin began to become like some sort of shell. At first the idea to wash and trim the Sleepers seemed...natural except for the convulsive seizures that seemed to overtake any sleeper that had their body...groomed. \n\nThere were exceptions, the very obese seemed to need almost no nourishment, though their...shells seemed full of disgusting lumps that made them seem less than human. I myself was about 130 when the first Sleeper awoke.\n\nThey tore through their flesh and hair alarming the attendants as at the 160 year mark the first emerged. In life Sarah Greaves had been a mother, a teacher and a compassionate human being, upon waking her 4 arms and 4 legs and strangely spindly body made her seem like a spider. She had gained a considerably larger frame than her old body and she consumed a person right away, biting into the neck of the attendant and sucking away at the blood and viscera. Upon sating whatever horrible hunger had compelled her to do such an unthinkable act, she turned to another hospital worker and said\n\n\"Boy was I hungry!\"\n\nSarah abandoned her name and took up the name Gresha, she didn't eat anymore attendants and several of the scientists were frankly baffled by this bizarre turn of events. Of course soon after the emergences of Gresha, a rather large number of Sleepers woke, though not at all like her. One man emerged with wings like that of a bat, 6 of them. He was more or less unchanged otherwise, at least mentally though CT scans revealed that his skull had indeed grown to accommodate a much larger brain, though the function was unknown, until he mastered flight that is. Soren, as he came to be known had needed the additional motor cortex and enhanced cerebellum to accommodate his new musculature.\n\nAs the Sleepers woke they continued to each have slightly unique physiologies. Except for John Hargrove who awoke looking exactly the same. While science prodded and poked him, I myself was approaching the sleep. I wondered what I would be. As it turns out John did have a physiological affect, he suffered a brutal accident just before I went to sleep and it turns out John has nearly impenetrable skin, which pretty much made him, indestructible. ", "It's the year 2017 and John just made a major breakthrough in research. In a cozy loft overlooking the Hudson River, he begins to wonder what took him so long to come to this conclusion. He sees the photo of his dad who recently passed away and wishes he could just spend one more hour with him; but, time is of the essence right now. John must not waste time reminiscing the past. He must move forward. \n\nHe steps into his study, cats in trail. They're wanting his attention, something he hasn't given them in a couple days. They watch him as he turns on his laptop, pulls up Google, and types, \"What the fuck is pupate?\"", "\"Your mother is in a suspended state. Not a coma, her brain waves are active in different areas and her muscles seem to be contracting. We're unable to determine when or if she'll wake up.\"\n\n\"Doctor I don't mean to come off as harsh but it may just be her time. She was thrilled to make it to her 200th birthday and beat the record, but after she asked me to add a \"do not resuscitate\" order.\"\n\n\"Normally sir I would agree, but I must tell you she doesn't appear to be anywhere close to death, if anything I think she's getting stronger.\"\n\n\"Stronger...?\" That was the last thing Paul expected to hear from the doctor regarding his elderly mother. He himself was getting up there in years, but 175 was about the highest anyone usually got with only a few sprinkling the 190's. Since his mom hit 180 and became bed ridden, he's never heard any positive news... let alone someone saying she's getting stronger. \n\n\"Her blood pressure has lowered into healthy levels, sugar, oxygen, all that stuff that's usually high or low has leveled out. Her muscles seem to be strengthening themselves up, her cataracts are gone, Paul she's healthier then you or I right now.\"\n\nDOCTOR WHOTE TO THE ICU STAT Both men jumped at the loud speaker and looked at eachother. In this small town there was only one patient in the ICU. They ran towards the opposite end of the building to find a crowd of nurses and patients running away. \n \n\"THERE'S A MONSTER IN MRS. BLOCKS ROOM!\"\n\nThe men faultered a bit before making the last turn. Furniture and medical supplies littered the hall and before them stood a 8 foot tall slightly blue humanoid creature...wearing the tattered remains of a hospital gown and Paul's mom's signature pearls. \n\n\"Jesus mom what are you doing?! Put that chair down, I have your smokes on me but we have to wait till we can go outside.\"\n\n\"Oh sorry, I do seem to have made a mess.\" Mrs. Block unsteadily leans down to pick up a box of gloves but over shoots multiple times with her newly 4 foot long arms. \"This body is so weird, please don't tell me you paid to have me put in this. Ug oooh cramp! Oh there we go ok I got this.\" She triumphantly grasps the box and smiles at her confused son.\n\n\"Mom I think you're still in your old body, you just.... changed.\"\n\n\"Awesome I'm going to wreak that damn oldest body record! Oh and I bet this body can make cookies a thousand times as fast as that useless one, stupid Janice doesn't stand a chance at this year's bake off.\"\n\n\"Mom... I think the doctors are going to want you to stay here for a while.\"\n\n", "Carter woke up and the world outside was black and silver blue.\n\n\"Wea - status?\"\n\nThe console lights flickered, a pale pink band running up and down the corridor, illuminating the quiet.\n\n\"Mission failure,\" said a soft, feminine voice from just overhead. \"Per stated parameters, we are returning back to home base.\" \n\n\"Failure?\" said Carter. His body felt heavy, even in the weightlessness. He tried to use the console, but found his fingers slow and numb. \"There was nothing?\"\n\n\"Correct,\" said Wea. \"We will be arriving on Earth in approximately 45 hours.\"\n\n\"Image, please,\" said Carter. The overhead screen popped, clicked, and reset itself into an image of Earth. It seemed dim somehow to Carter's eyes. Discolored. But then, he must have been asleep for quite some time.\n\n\"How long?\" he asked, finally managing to manually pull up the vitals for the rest of the crew. Everyone seemed in perfect health.\n\n\"Three thousand, one hundred fifty-seven years, forty-seven days, nine hours, three minutes since mission launch,\" replied Wea. \n\n\"Three thousand...?\" whispered Carter.\n\n\"Our analysis showed no signs of sentient life.\"\n\n\"They weren't out there?\" sighed Carter. \"All that, and they weren't out there.\"\n\n\"There was no trace of the species known as the Gift Givers,\" confirmed Wea. \"Per mission parameters we have returned home to report our findings.\"\n\nCarter rubbed his eyes. He wondered when the fatigue would eventually go away. \"Home? I suppose...what's the status there?\"\n\n\"I have no data to provide any conclusive feedback,\" replied Wea. \"There is activity, but no active signal.\"\n\n\"Are they even going to remember who we are?\" wondered Carter. They would simply have to find out. \"Wake the crew. Let's begin prep for landing.\"\n\n_______________________________\n\nHouston was green. Swamp green and coated in shining algae. \n\n\"Well, Kennedy is definitely gone,\" said Martinez. \"I'm not even sure there's a highway to land on anymore.\"\n\n\"Seems to have gone underwater,\" said Bito. \"A while ago.\"\n\nThey went north, aiming for dry, stable land in Oklahoma. No one answered their signals. No one seemed to have noticed their arrival.\n\n\"There was no sign of them anywhere?\" said Bito, shaking her head as she analyzed the surface atmosphere. \"That doesn't make any sense at all.\"\n\n\"Gods don't tend to make a ton of sense,\" said Hawthorne. \"You ever read any mythology? They're all fuckin' weirdos.\"\n\n\"The Gift Givers weren't gods, though,\" said Bito. \"They were just an advanced alien race.\"\n\n\"Very advanced,\" said Martinez.\n\n\"At what point does advanced technology make you a god, though?\" said Hawthorne. \"I mean, to ants we're gods.\"\n\n\"I don't think we were quite that far apart from the Gift Givers,\" said Carter, watching the descent through the monitors. \"I think we have to assume that either they met some great, unexpected calamity, or... they just didn't want us to find them.\"\n\nBito threw her hands in the air. \"Then what was the point? They came down with all their great tech and tools and said when the time was necessary they'd come back and be our salvation. And then when everything really does go to shit and we need them, they never show up. So our dumb asses have to leave everything behind and travel out into the fucking cosmos to find them and tell them how fucked we are and... they're playing hide and go seek? What the hell is happening here?\"\n\n\"I don't know,\" said Carter. \"I'm sorry. I'm just as clueless as the rest of you.\"\n\nBito wiped the corner of her eye. \"Wea? What's the status of the embryos?\" \n\n\"Status normal,\" replied Wea. \"All 500 are stable.\"\n\n\"Let's not think about that yet,\" said Carter.\n\n\"They're all dead,\" said Hawthorne. \"Yuki's right. Leaving was pointless. Now we have to decide whether or not humanity is worth re-starting.\"\n\n\"Mission's not over yet,\" said Carter. \"Let's not make any assumptions.\"\n____________________________\n\nMost of the buildings had fallen. The old kind, at least. Pyramid-like structures sat in clusters, surrounded on all sides by wilderness. As it always did, the Earth had reclaimed itself. New species of plant, old, marginally evolved species of animal and insect. The team was cautious. There was no way to know how anything would react to them.\n\nInside the pyramids, there was no light. Long, dark corridors led to wide, almost endless chambers, filled with white bundles of tissue and dust.\n\n\"What the hell is all that?\" said Martinez, as they approached the chamber floor.\n\n\"Some sort of...material,\" said Bito. \"We'd need a sample.\"\n\nThe tissue was fibrous and hard. Hawthorne was working some time before he was able to chisel off a small chunk. \n\n\"First impressions?\" said Carter.\n\nBito turned the sample over in her hands. \"Reminds me of a shed snake skin, just thicker and harder and much, much more of it...\"\n\n\"Should we presume there's something in there?\"\n\nBito shook her head. \"I'm not willing to presume anything. It's a good guess, though. I don't see the material itself having value. Seems more like a wrapping for something. Maybe a cocoon?\"\n\n\"We'll come back to it,\" said Carter. \"Let's keep looking for civilization.\"\n\n________________\n\nThere was no civilization to be found. All the man-made things had collapsed. The natural world had re-taken nearly every space there was to take. Only the pyramids remained as a clear sign that something more complicated had once lived there.\n\n\"Let's open one,\" sighed Carter on the 80th day. \n\nThey didn't have the right tools, so the work was manual and time-consuming. They chiseled and axed in turns. After five hours they found their way to the center. \n\n\"Careful,\" said Bito, supervising. \"We need to be gentle from here on out.\"\n\nThey pulled away the dry shards of fiber. Tossed away the last layer of covering. Until they revealed the figure below.\n\n\"It's a Gift Giver,\" said Bito.\n\nHawthorne shook his head. \"That doesn't make any sense. Why would they be here? And if they came, what happened to the humans?\"\n\n\"Did they come after we left?\" said Martinez. \n\n\"What did they do to the other humans?\" said Hawthorne, leaning over the still body, longer and leaner than a human. More elastic. Wide, sloping brow. No eyes. No mouth. Those strange gashes on the palms of those strange, willowy hands.\n\n\"They didn't say they'd save us, did they?\" said Carter, gripping the ax to keep his hands from shaking. \n\n\"They said they'd be our salvation,\" said Bito.\n\n\"Earth's salvation,\" said Hawthorne, remembering. \"They said they'd be Earth's salvation. Captain's right. We just heard what we wanted to hear.\"\n\n\"So what the fuck is this?\" said Martinez. \"They came back, slaughtered all the humans, and...what? Took a fucking nap?\" He put his hands to his head. He was starting to panic. \"What the fuck is this?\"\n\n\"I think it's us,\" said Bito, quite quietly. She held up a chunk of the cocoon. \"This is a pupa. I think that's the salvation. We're transforming.\"\n\n\"Into what?\"\n\n\"Into them,\" said Bito. \n\n\"Then they didn't save us at all,\" said Hawthorne.\n\n\"They did if they're better suited to live in this enviroment,\" said Bito. \"If by nature, they're less destructive. We couldn't survive here as humans anymore, what if this was the only way...\"\n\n\"It's genocide,\" said Hawthorne. \"Whatever name you want. It's genocide. They killed humanity. That's no salvation.\"\n\n\"But for Earth...\"\n\nMartinez cried out. The figure in the shattered cocoon began to move. Arms floating upwards. The long, flat head began to lift. Hawthorne stepped forward with his chisel. Bito dove in front. \n\n\"If it's us, we can't assume this wasn't done willingly,\" she shouted. \"We don't know what happened. This could be what they wanted.\"\n\n\"They took over the planet,\" hissed Hawthorne. \"There's no way anyone in their right mind would have let them do that.\" He raised his chisel. Bito grabbed his arm. \n\n\"Stop it!\" she cried. \"We don't know!\"\n\nTogether they struggled. \"Captain!\" shouted Bito, before realizing that Carter was already standing over the Gift Giver, his ax buried in the creature's forehead. \"Captain!\" wailed Bito. \"How could you?\"\n\nCarter stepped back from the mess he'd made. \"We need something flammable. We're going to torch the chamber. All of them.\" \n\n\"Why?\" said Bito, tears streaming down her face.\n\n\"It doesn't matter what the Gift Givers promised or what they did,\" replied Carter. \"Our mission was to find a way to save humanity. Right now humanity is us and those 500 embryos. Nothing else. We need to destroy these chambers before they all wake up. Whatever they are.\"\n\nCarter left alone. Outside the chamber, he vomited. He had to admit the air smelled fresher than it ever had before they'd left. But they hadn't been sent to find fresh air, had they?\n__________________________\n\n/r/WinsomeMan" ]	4
	[WP] There is no hell, only heavens for different religions, and the end of days is the final war between them.	[ "Each thought they could win. They thought that they could prepare and enjoy their heaven. They prepared for battle, but not for war. Egyptians, romans, Greeks, Christians. Many others. They had their fun and prepared for battle in their off time. \n\nThey didn’t know. It never occurred to them, just how royally fucked they all were. They forgot about the Valhalla. They forgot and they paid the price. While they had their parties in the morning, Valhalla went to war games. When they ate lunch brought to them on golden plates, the Norse killed their beasts and bleed for their food. Even when the Norse ended their days with feasting, it was done with roars and small battles. The others thought battle, thought war was a game. To Valhalla, it was a way of life. \n\nWhen the end of days came and the sky’s fell, the walls between the worlds fell and the various heavens came together for battle. Then the Vikings came. Like a tidal wave fused with the fury and rage of berserkers, the Vikings came. \n\nThe Greek and Roman warriors held out the longest, their war gods giving them a chance. But in the end, none could stop the fury. They weren’t prepared. They forgot. They forgot and they paid for it in blood. ", "Dionysus slowly exhaled a plume of smoke.\n\n\"Fuck em,\" he breathed.\n\nDemeter rolled her eyes. \"Must you never be sober? Is it a decree of the Fates?\"\n\nDionysus grabbed a pomegranate from the golden plate before him and sliced it open without breaking eye contact. \n\n\"Why are they here?\" Hades croaked. \"He can't protect his worshipers from themselves, and she can't protect her daughter from lust.\"\n\nDionysus squinted, \"that's not how I remember that story, but okay.\"\n\nPoseidon and Zeus sat in silent contemplation, the latter on his throne at the head of the table with steepled hands while the former sat on a chair of mist next to him.\n\n\"Athena, Ares, Hades, Poseidon,\" Zeus listed, \"stay.\"\n\nThe others of the pantheon took the hint and apparated away.\n\n~~~\n\n\"I learned my lesson somewhere in between the second nail and the third,\" Jesus laughed. Legions of angels in stark formation wielding weapons of light used a wing to shield their faces from the glory of the Lord.\n\nOnly the archangels, Michael, Gabriel, Uriel, and Raphael, could stand near Jesus without being consumed, though they still squinted when looking directly at him as he continued.\n\n\"Peace is for the kingdom of Heaven. War is for the land of man. You can't describe the fifth dimension to the first. Tell them to stand down,\" he indicated the myriad embodiments of Jehovah's wrath. \"I only need you four.\"\n\nMichael gave the order, and the wielded weapons of light melted back into the wings of the assembled angels as the archangels produced and protruded their own, far more glorious and imaginative.\n\n\"Not you, my friend,\" Jesus said to Raphael. \"There will be no healing here. Go find Azrael. He will be our fifth.\"\n\n~~~\n\nKrishna and Saraswati filled the cloudy air with the conversing and converging tones of the flute and sitar. Shiva's heavy lids remained closed as Kali's feet found his chest and traced the familiar steps of her sacred dance. Bhairavi sat by his feet sipping a chalice of blood and swaying. \n\nAs the music began to swell, the five hummed in unison. Kali began to scream. Bhairavi passed her the chalice, which she used to anoint her black hair. Shiva's eyes shot open as the blood trickled down her body and began drizzling onto his chest. Her scream intensified as her feet sank into him. He grimaced and grunted as she melded into him. Bhairavi pounced, licking the blood from Shiva's chest. Her enraged fist punched through him, his body absorbing her fingers and hand and wrist. She too melded into Shiva, who now had the black and bloody hair of Kali and the bloodlust of both goddesses. \n\nKrishna and Saraswati continued to play as the fused gods stood as one body and levitated. Countless arms jutted bearing ancient and forgotten weapons, and Kali's necklace of skulls and belt of severed arms adorned the shifting and writhing form. The neck jerked as Bhairavi's head grew next to Shiva's on one side and Kali's oozed through on the other. \n\nThe goddesses bloody tongues dangled from howling mouths as laughter drowned the music. Krishna set aside his flute for his mace and morphed into his universal form, and Saraswati became living water and ran rushing circles around the beings.\n\n~~~\n\n\"Did you hear that?\" Martin asked Claire who was yanking out her earphones.\n\n\"No, but I felt it,\" she answered, \"what the fuck was that?\"" ]	2
	[WP] Our world is just one of infinite amount of universes, but none of humans on Earth know this. You found this out by accident, but can't tell anyone because it's forbidden in multiuniversal rules.	[ "She tightened a screw with a wrench. \"I need help...\" She said. Desperately repeating it over and over. \"I need help.\" She wiped her labcoat's sleeve across her forehead, smearing oil and sweat on her forehead. She wasn't completing her work fast enough. \n\nIn her own lab, one she made in her basement she furiously worked... \n\nThe frustration got to her. She bit into the side of her lip, drawing blood. Her hands stopped for a moment and she relinquished the tools she held. \"Please.\" She said allowed, and began to think finally some one would come to her aid... No one did. They could hear her, all of them could hear her--but they didn't do anything.\n\nShe didn't have time. \"Help isn't coming.\" Out of all infinite existances--there was no one who would help a human. \n\nShe picked up her tools and continued to work. \n\n\"I don't have time to beg for help. I glimpsed into reality, and saw that we are the ones left out in the cold. We don't matter... I will be different.\"\n\nShe tightened the copper coils in the supermagnet. In the accident last year, she saw reality. She tried to get the others to understand--but if she broke the rules... She didn't want to think of that. For now, no one on earth can help her either.\n\nShe would have to finish the machine on her own. She felt like fully understanding it was just barely out of her lifetime's grasp. She didn't want to die--not without completing her understanding of the machine.\n\nWords crawled through the back of her skull. \"Why would the existence of a pebble matter to gods?\"\n\nShe couldn't be sure if it was her own thoughts, or something reaching into her mind from outside of her universe.\n\nShe could feel the eyes of infinity upon her... \n\nAll of her being swelled with resentment and hatred. \n\nShe worked. \n\n\"It is futile.\" She or something else said in her mind. \n\nShe continued working...\n\n\"You don't understand what you are doing.\"\n\nShe couldn't have been sure if the machine was ready...\n\n\"You'll die. It won't work.\"\n\nThe frustation of helplessness was becoming too unbearable...\n\nHer tears began to drip, pooling on the split particle catch's surface. She couldn't live like this... But dying meant true oblivion. \n\n\"It isn't going to work.\" They said.\n\n\"It will work.\" She wanted to believe, but she knew she couldn't be certain.\n\n\"It isn't going to work.\"\n\n\"Maybe it will.\" She admitted. \"I don't know.\" \n\nShe hit a switch, and she could feel the electricty in the air. Parts of the machined whirred, and her hair began to rise. \n\n\"Maybe. Maybe it will work.\" In her limited life time, that was the best she could do. So she bet her existence on a maybe.\n\nHer chest was ripped apart by the first pulse of particles, followed by a stream that continued to rip every atom in her body apart.\n\nThere was nothing...\n\nShe sat in a field of grass. Beings, and creatures explainable were around her. They stared.\n\n\"She did it.\" One said. \"She gave herself a soul.\"\n\n\"Well...\" Said another. \"Welcome to heaven.\"" ]	1
	[WP] You didn't think the ad was serious, but you applied for the job anyway. You are now Counselor to the Recently Deceased.	[ "“Number 379”\n“379”\n“Last call 379”\n\nAt this point, I was starting to think this person hadn’t actually died. Seemed strange. People who usually end up here don’t leave. And they definitely don’t lose their place in the queue.\n\n“379”\n“Here. I’m so sorry! I’m here! I don’t understand though. What’s the number? And where am I?”\n\nAnd this is the part where it all gets tough. \nNobody knows when they’re going to die. And nobody knows what happens after you die. Some people don’t even know they’re dead when they die. So that’s what I signed up for. Not intentionally of course. I mean the ad did say counsellor to the recently dead, but I assumed it was a typo for deaf. I signed up for good old fashioned community service. Of the afterlife.\n\n“Ma’am, I’m sorry to inform you, but you have become a new member of the recently deceased”. \n\nShe just stared. For a good five minutes. I continued “you have a remarkable record! Life Full of good deeds, wise choices and well thought out decision making”\n\nStill silence.\n\n“From what I can see, I think you will make a wonderful transition into the afterlife. Here are some brochures that I will leave with you. They have some amazing transition programs and - “ \n\n“How did I die?”\n\nOoh. This is probably the worst part of the job. Telling them exactly what they think they want to hear but truthfully don’t.\n\n“You chocked to death. On a lollipop. You had to prove a point to your teenager that candy is not always good for you. Great job by the way” \n\nI never said it’d be hard. \n\n“Oh. I see.. so what now?”\n“Enjoy what the middle has to offer. You’re off to greater places. You’ll be departing very soon, so don’t forget your number” \n\n“Great. Thanks!”\n\nTurned out to be a good fit for the job after all ", "\"I just feel empty inside, you know?\"\n\n\"Probably because you have no insides left\"\n\n\"Hey wise guy, you gonna help me here or are you gonna crack jokes?\"\n\n\"Just tell me your story Benito and I'll see what I can do.\"\n\n\"That's what I thought. Anyways, I've been thinking that I was doing the right thing through my life, yeah? Sure I put a few people in the ground, but that sonofabitch Donovan had my family on the ropes. I did it all for 'em, you know?\"\n\n\"Mhm.\"\n\n\"But then I bite off more than I can chew, take a few shotguns to the gut, and all of a sudden I'm in Hell! What's the big deal, I say? 'S not like I wanted to strangle all those guys who owed the boss money. I was just doing it for my family is all!\"\n\n\"Benito, how did you get involved with the mob in the first place?\"\n\n\"What makes you ask that, doc?\"\n\n\"Well, maybe you could have avoided being involved. Take the righteous path and all that\"\n\n\"You kiddin' me? I was a poor fella all my life! Was a stroke of bad luck is all. Ma ended up in the hospital after a bad car accident, and we had no way to pay for it. All of a sudden Donovan's boys come along, saying that they know my history o' weightlifting and football. How could I say no when they tell me that I'd get enough dough to get Ma out of the hospital and keep my family going?\"\n\n\"I see. Benito, do you have any idea how death counselling works?\"\n\n\"I don't usually die doc, so no\"\n\n\"You see, when a mortal dies and they feel like they've been judged wrongly, first they fill out a form, same as you, and an appointment is made to discuss said mortal's life and why they deserve a reconsideration, or why their judgement was accurate so that they may go on in peace. Basically, I solve the life problems of the afterlife.\"\n\n\"Yeah I read your stupid paper. Get on with it\"\n\n\"Before my patients arrive, however, I receive their life file. On that life file, are all the important details about the patient's life, their sins, their righteous deeds. Everything.\"\n\n\"W-what's that got to do with me?!\"\n\n\"Oh Benito. Your mother wasn't in a car crash. You killed her to show your loyalty to Donovan. You've been a bully all your life, and saw the mob as a way to make some money while pushing people around. Over the years killing became second nature to you, and you mostly spent your money on a life of gambling and women. The only piece of truth in the story you told me is how you died: Multiple shotgun blasts to the stomach.\"\n\n\"You ain't keeping me from heaven, doc! I'll make you sleep with whatever fishes Hell has to offer!\"\n\n\"I think you forget that my bosses are both God and Lucifer. The only person who's going to be sleeping with Hell's fishes is you, Benito. Have a nice day\"\n\nPOOF\n\nSo I hear that you threatened my employee. Good. The more sins you have, the more fun I get to have!", "\"We're happy to have you on board, Al. We'll take care of the paperwork, tomorrow. Frankly, we're swamped and we'd like to get you set up in your office right away. Can you start now?\"\n\n\"Look, I'm open to helping, but I'm kind of . . . are YOU dead?\"\n\n\"No, Al. I'm very much alive. I have a mortgage and live on 32nd street. But you don't have to be depressed to help depressed people, right?\"\n\n\"No. I guess not.\"\n\n\"And you don't have to be divorced to be a marriage counselor?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"Good. That's the idea. We're just helping people who are having trouble readjusting to a new stage in existence. That's all. Can I take you to your office?\"\n\nAl nodded his head, while his new boss started walking toward the rooms in the back. They stopped outside the last room in the hallway, a balsa-wood door standing open, with two chairs facing each other and a small end table between them. Stock pictures hung on the wall with airy landscapes and motivational quotes at the bottom.\n\n\"Make yourself at home,\" the boss, Erin, said to Al.\n\n\"Do I need to be keeping track of the people I counsel, or anything like that?\"\n\n\"Nope. Just be a good person, offer resources as they seem appropriate, and you'll do great. A nice thing about working with dead folks is that the court system is reserved for the living. So no lawsuits, which means very little paperwork. And, no matter how poorly you perform, you'll never have a deceased person who commits suicide or overdoses based on your advice. They're already dead!\"\n\nThis didn't comfort Al. \"Oh,\" he said. \"That's nice.\" Erin patted him on the back and, placing her hand on his shoulder, nudged him into the room. \n\nThankfully, Al didn't have time to sneak out the back door. Because as he was looking at the magazines strewn across the end table, a woman walked in. She was more corporeal-looking than you would have imagined. She looked like she had mass and, as she stepped into the doorway, she grabbed the door handle and said, \"I'm sorry. I'm not sure. Should I shut the door or . . . \"\n\n\"Yes, please,\" said Al, composing himself. \"We generally like to preserve our patients' privacy.\"\n\nAnd, contrary to everything Al had believed about the dead, she shut the door like any other living person he'd ever known. He had a worrying thought that, in all the years he'd been walking the streets, going to parties or work or dinner, he'd been passing and bumping into dead people the whole time.\n\nShe sat down and looked at Al.\n\nAl looked at her.\n\n\"I'm not sure where to begin,\" she said.\n\n\"That's a good question. What's your name?\"", "\"My husband shot me.\"\n\nThe woman tucked a hand into each armpit, cocked her head, and made a duck face as if to say, \"Mhm. Yeah, my husband. I can't believe it either. All you men - yes even you - just need to die and leave us ladies alone.\n\nShe was fine, though. Thick in all the right places and built like she was made solely for the bedroom. Bitter as she was, I couldn't help noticing the pair of breasts being accentuated by the forearms she had folded over her midsection. Long as her husband stayed alive, and out of my office, I was thinking about maybe, possibly, perhaps getting her number.\n\nI shuffled some papers on my desk to look professional. Then asked, \"So what happened? What's the story?\"\n\n\"I was cheating.\" She rolled her head, daring me to judge her. \"Right in our bed, too. It's his fault he didn't know how to please me right.\"\n\nI didn't say anything.\n\nShe began to school me. \"See, when a man cheats, it's because he wants* to. No matter how good the woman is - even if she cooks, she cleans, or she's good in bed - if he cheats, it's because he wanted to. When a woman cheats, it's because she needs to. A man only has one job. And that's to please a woman. If he can't do that, then she's gonna cheat. Plain and simple.\"\n\nShe sat back. Point made. Maybe she thought I was unconvinced, but she added this:\n\n\"I don't know about other chicks, but I'm not too hard to please. Plus, men don't even cheat right. They're too sloppy with it. And they fall in love too quick. Women can cheat for years with a dude on the side and still be totally in love with her husband. She just needs to satisfy that desire because...?\"\n\n\"Because he...isn't pleasing her?\" I guessed. \n\nShe nodded with conviction, finally lapsing into silence and giving me some time to think and form a reply.\n\nI chose to summarize the events of the incident leading to her death. \"So your husband caught you cheating and shot you?\"\n\n\"Right in the bed.\"\n\n\"Right in the bed. And, where was your lover during all this?\"\n\n\"In bed with me,\" she replied, unashamed and utterly uncomprehending how her behavior could have played a role in all this. \n\nI was unsure where to go from here, tell you the truth. Lucky for me, she wasn't.\n\n\"Hello?\" she asked, fingers snapping in my face. \"Can I go? I have to meet with another guy who tells me if I'm going to Heaven or Hell.\"\n\n\"Uh, yeah, su-\"\n\nShe was up and out the chair, strolling towards the door before I could finish speaking. Bad as that behind was, I realized as the door slammed behind her that I hadn't gotten her number.\n\nAnd I wasn't even mad.\n\n", "“What on earth..?” I thought when I got the letter accepting my application. It’s probably a misunderstanding, some new kid wanted to have some fun and changed the job offer. It’s probably counselling for people who just lost their loved ones. I have some experience in dealing with that, I can do that! Plus, the pay is pretty good as well. \n\nThe letter told me to start working on 31st of October at 9 am at 361 Charley Road. Which happens to be tomorrow. Pretty odd without setting up an interview first, but the ad did say they need people desperately. \n\nNext morning, I got all my supplies packed and ready. I can’t afford another job, I got bills to pay and I need to give back the money I borrowed from my dad. He will disown me if I don’t give him his £4000 back by the end of this year. I only have about £2300 so far, which is not going to cut it. \n\nThe taxi dropped me off on a deserted street, not a single soul to be seen for miles. Completely empty. You couldn’t even see any stray cats or wheel bins, as if none of the properties were owned by anyone. \n\nI double checked the street name and number, everything was correct: 361 Charley Road. The detached mansion was of an old building style, single glassed windows from the looks of it and wooden outside blinds. It didn’t look anyone has been looking after the house at all. What seemed to be white wooden walls, now was covered in web and dirt made it look completely grey. There also were many dark brown stains at shoulder level near the big entrance. \n\nThe closer I got to the door, the more intense the smell of decaying meat got. I’ve smelled that before. A mouse once died in my bathroom after I put the poison in there, it was horrible. But this in comparison was nothing. Judging from the smell, at least half a dozen mice must’ve died here recently. I couldn’t stand it anymore, I covered my nose with my jackets sleeve which was one of the places I sprayed my perfume on. \n\nI knocked at the door with my free hand. Before I managed to knock the second time, a young blonde woman greeted me at the door. Her slim figure and shortly cut hair at her shoulders made her look very profession and attractive. Deep blue eyes like a sea and a smile worth a million kisses. Her white jacket and skirt made her stand out in the depressing grey that is found all around the house. \n\n“You must be Mr. Hogten. Please follow me.” She said politely with another wonderful smile. I followed that smile unquestionably. \n\nShe took me down the corridor, which did not differ at all from the outside. Same amount of webs and dirt. One thing I noticed though, there were still dark brown stains but on the floor too. They probably were at the front too but they blended in with the dark wooden steps. We suddenly came to a stop. She handed me a file and started talking. \n\n“Your first client is a 24 year old male”\n\nOkay, so a young one. Probably lost a parent. \n\n“He still struggles to understand his current situation and is not sure what to do.” She continued. \n\nUnderstandable. He must’ve had a very good bond with his parent then. Poor kid. \n\n“He died yesterday in a car accident. He was on his way to meet his fiancé in a park but never made it. Just try to calm him down and familiarise him with the whole process of the departure to the purgatory that is going to happen within the next two days. If you say he is fit to go obviously.” \n\nI froze. I looked her in the face but couldn’t tell if she’s trying to make a joke out of it. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I heard you correctly, did you say he DIED yesterday?” \n\n“Oh yes of course! We don’t do counselling with the living here. Otherwise you wouldn’t be a counsellor for the recently deceased, would you?” She managed to giggle a little after saying that. \n\nSo it wasn’t a mistake... I am pretty much in a living graveyard. \n\n" ]	5
From [this](https://www.reddit.com/r/ImaginaryTechnology/comments/7apvaw/looks_like_a_helmet_let_me_try_it_on_by_yintion_j/) cool thread.	[WP] You're a young member of a remote tribe. You find an alien cybernetic looking helmet next to a crash site out in the wild. You strap it on, the ship starts re-assembling itself. The engines fire up --on the HUD you see seven incoming red objects.	[ "I am out biking in the woods when I see a comet or shooting star or something. It's getting...oh shit I say as I dive into a ditch. The explosion is crazy but blows right over me. I stand up dazed and see lots of smoke. I am lucky it happened so fast that the ditch I was in was untouched. I start walking crazily toward the point of impact. As I get closer the trees are all knocked over in a single direction. This is the craziest thing I have ever seen. I should be running home and calling my mom. Hell I may even suck my thumb again. Then I realize my thumb is in my mouth, so I pulled it out. Then I chuckle and say, \"that's what she said\". As I get closer I see an unschathed bike helmet sitting in the middle of a bunch of trees all blown straight back from it. I think that I could use a bike helmet, it's a bit dangerous out here. So I strapped on the helmet. That's when things got weird. This helmet lights up and starts showing me a HUD with a tiny \"rebooting in progress\" in a corner and one of those annoying little bars that never really moves. \n\nI say screw it and go home. I toss it in my closet and kinda forget about it until the next morning. I start heading to school and remember this cool new helmet. So I out it on and notice the rebooting bar is only about 1/3 of the way across. I go to school and do my school stuff. On my way home the bar is almost completely, oh, oh, I am right in front of this girl's house I have a crush on as, crap it just got dark in here. In here, I was just outside? I look around and realize I can't move. Then when I look around I notice my head isn't moving, but the view is changing. Weird. I think it would be... Huh, the view changed again, it says rebooting complete.\n\nNow it is starting to show warning signs and says takeoff in 5.4.3.2.1 as all of a sudden I find my self in outer space. How do I know that? That's when Alexa introduces herself. And says that Siri has fired 7 shots at us and we need to avoid them while destroying them before they reach moon base googley. I think a command and Alexa says that will be prime and delivered shortly. I then feel a shudder as I see some drones fly out from the side of my FedEx spaceship bike helmet? This is getting weird. \n\nAll of a sudden the 14 things on the screen converged and then nothing. Now I see 14 shots leave moon base googley, 10 heading towards Siri then 4 towards me. Me? What the hell, I just saved it, those ungrateful assmunches. So I launch all my drones at both Siri and googley. That's when they launch everything at each other. Shit, I guess it's over. Totally over. \n\nMy last conscious thought is seeing a large spaceship shaped like a window pop on the screen. I swear it is looking like it is lauphing. ", "I had snuck off from my gathering party… again. I knew I wasn’t supposed to, but my curiosity always got the better of me. I hopped along the path, my feet first landing on soft spongy grass and then the solid black stone. Papa said the black stone made a path that stretched the entire world. It was from the Ones Before from the time before the sky was ripped open and the sun fell. There was hardly any of us left, Papa told me. He said most everyone was burnt up by the sun, but here we are.\n\nWe weren’t the only ones to survive, though. There were things in the dark, things hiding away from the light. They were the reason I wan’t supposed to wander off alone, but it was light out. My foot hit someting harder than the black stone, and I fell onto the spongy grass. I look around and found a helmet under a thin layer of vines, almost completely buried. I managed to pull it free and run my hand over its smooth surface. I turned it over in my hands several times before flipping it over and looking inside. It was thickly padded on the interior.\n\nMy curiosity getting the better of me once again, I slipped the helmet on. It was much larger than my head at first, but then it hummed to life and suddenly fit my head perfectly. A screen materialized over my eyes, outlining objects in the world around me in a faint green, making it easier to see… everything. Off to my left in a massive meadow was something under the surface traced in green. I approached the object and knelt down to see what is was. It looked like a bird’s wing, a massive on at that. I reached down to brush aside the dirt and touch, but as my hand got closer, the wing’s outline flashed blue. Then, the wing was ripped from under the ground by an invisible hand and shot upward to join other parts doing the same from around the meadow.\n\nThe parts met in midair and fell together as if they were old friends separated for years. In a matter of minutes, the parts were rejoined, and before me sat… I don’t know what it was. What it most closely resembled though was a giant black bird. Its surface was sleek and spotless as it hovered just feet above the ground. I approached it with caution. What was it?\n\nAs I stood within feet of the bird, the helmet began screeching in my ear, a crackling voice saying something I could not understand. Before my eyes, my view changed. I was high above looking down. I could see the faint dot that was me, and the bird floating beside me. I looked around, and saw objects outlined in red approaching me in the sky.\n\n“What are those,” I shouted.\n\nI tapped at the helmet, desperate for answers. My view changed again, this time taking me toward the flying objects. I caught a glimpse of them. They looked like giant silver birds flying toward me, leaving trails of cloud behind them as they flew on motionless wings. On their wings, they bore a mark. The mark looked like a rectangle with two curving sides, stripes the color of blood and the clouds, a square in the top left corner the color of the sky as the light leaves, and within the square a cycloptic triangle.\n\nThere was a flash of red light, then the world went black. Did they blind me? No, my vision came back to me a moment later. I was on the ground again. Did they see me through the triangle? Was that their eye? My bird didn’t have an eye. Was it blind? Did the other birds blind it? Were they coming to finish the job now?\n\nThe air screamed around me as the birds approached. I looked up to see them floating high above in a circle. There came a voice like the one in my helmet, a crackling voice I couldn’t understand. I just stood there, rooted to the spot with fear.\n\n“Help…,” I whispered.\n\nSomething blinked in the helmet then, and suddenly the black bird swung upward and flew toward the circle of silver birds. It shot a beam of red light, turning one of the silver birds into a miniature falling sun. My bird never stood a chance, though, as the remaining six shot their own beams of light. Sastisfied, the circle of silver predators descended upon me.", "There are many dead spirits within the tall trees. When Mother Moon is full and the crickets quiet you can hear them whisper the legends of its people. One such legend, whispered from the forest to the elders and the elders to the children, is the tale of EElock-Hi. The Fire Bird King.\n\nBefore the Fire Bird King gained his title he was known as Faruk. Faruk was the youngest son of a fallen brave. His father had died in battle with the Skull Faced. The Skull Faced had attacked at night, cowardly hiding behind dark dyes when mother moon had turned her back. Faruk's father had died defending his people. He stood against four Skull Faced, his sons and daughters behind him. Weaponless, Faruk's father had fought with his hands and his heart against the defilers. Faruk's father defeated the hated demons, but his injuries were too dire and he succumbed to the Death Wolf's maw. The Skull Faced had become relentless, attacking until the tribe was nearly defenseless. Faruk retreated into the forest to ask the great spirit what could be done. \n\nIt is whispered that Faruk traveled deeper into the old woods than anyone before him. He traveled through a realm of spirits and was faced with many tribulations. It is said that he came upon a destroyed nest one hundred feet wide. The nest had been struck by lightning and was scattered in the wind. Here he found the War Bonnet of the blaze. When he placed his crown upon his head, the great Fire Bird appeared before him.\n\nFaruk stood before the Fire Bird proud and resolute. The Fire Bird saw his intentions were pure. The Fire Bird respected Faruk and vowed his aid. Faruk and the Fire Bird became two of one mind, each gaining strength and wisdom from the other. \n\nThe Fire Bird let out a mighty cry and warned Faruk that the Skull Faced had unleashed their trickster god unto Faruk's tribe. The trickster god had sent seven devils to terrorize Faruks peaceful people. The Fire Bird flew to his aid and they stood together in the face of the Death Wolf's maw. Faruk and the Fire Bird worked in tandem. The seven devils were strong but the old forest lent its spirit to the young king. One by one, the devils fell to the Fire Bird's breath.\n\n \nThe Fire Bird King then turned the Fire Bird against the Skull Faced. Just as they had begun their assault upon the tribe, the Fire Bird smote them all. With great bellows, the Fire Bird obliterated the Skull Faced until they retreated from the forest and back to the plains.\n\nVictoriously the King stood before his tribe. The Fire Bird returned to its nest where some say it still slumbers. The Fire Bird King ruled justly and fairly for many years. He took many wives and his tribe flourished. It is said the Fire Bird King reigned for one hundred years, and his line one thousand more. The War Bonnet of the blaze was handed down from chief to chief for many years, but it has long since been taken back by the forest. \n\nAye the tale is a wonderful whisper to hear on warm nights when the forest can talk and mother moon lights softly the tall trees and slithering rivers. Few go deep into the forest now, but there are some who claim to have seen the Fire Bird. They say its feathers have fallen and its beak dulled. But I wouldn't believe them. Faruk has long since gone to his fathers and his line returned to the soil, but it is said should his tribe ever need for him, the great Fire Bird would return. " ]	3
	[WP] You gain the ability to talk to animals...turns out they're pretty mean.	[ "Tim asked the shop keeper incredulously \"So you're telling me that when I drink this potion, I can talk to animals. Like my pets and stuff?\" \n\nThe old man behind the counter answered, \"That's correct, one sip and you can talk to any creature that has vocal cords. this isn't psychic or anything, that one costs extra.\"\n\nTim paid the man and took it home. He always wanted to talk to animals. Ever since he was a young kid, he never had many friends. He pretty much already did talk to animals. The problem was they never answered back. But this potion would fix that.\n\nOnce he got home he drank the bottle before going in. Wanting to surprise his cat and hamster. It tasted gritty, but went down smoothly enough. Waiting a few minutes, he felt silly for not asking how quickly it would take to start. When he heard the squirrel talking it was clear that it was working.\n\nThe squirrel chittered quickly\"Stupid dog, always barking, choke on food, chases, never catches, idiot.\"\n\nTim could hear the animal! Excitedly tried to talk with it, \"Hey squirrel can you hear me?\"\n\n\"Stupid human, I hear it, hur dur, I human, best ever, cant climb tree, weak arms, fool man.\"\n\nTim thought to himself maybe he should talk to a less angry animal, and went inside to see fluffers, and nutters. The cat was laying in his favorite spot, the one area with sunshine in his small apartment. He went over to pet fluffers and say hello. The first time he would really get to say hi and know that he could hear the response.\n\n\"Hi fluffers, how was your day?\"\n\n\"Exceedingly boring\" the cat purred, \"Its been 4 years being kept a prisoner by the most un interesting man in the world.\"\n\nTim spluttered, \"I didn't know you felt that way, I always worry about you getting out and getting lost, that's why I kept you inside.\"\n\n\"Oh, you learned how to hear me now? Only took you near half a decade. Maybe you aren't the most un interesting person around, just the most dense,\" said fluffers in a menacing tone.\n\nUnsure of what to say Tim backed into the bedroom and shut the door gently behind him. \n\nHis gaze fell on his hamster, surely Nutters wouldn't be so mean to him. \n\nNutters gazed back and began squeaking at him, just like he always did when Tim saw him. Just this time, he heard everything being said.\n\n \"Everything bad in your life is your fault Tim. You will never succeed because you are a constant failure! The best I hope from you, is that you let the cat eat me rather than spending more time with you.\"\n\n\"You couldn't really mean all of that could you Nutters?\" \n\nThe hamster stopped squeaking for a few seconds, then said \"I pee in your hands on purpose every time you hold me\".\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] GPS signal lost. GPS signal lost.	[ "WOM, WOM, WOM, WOM. \n\nThe alarm blared from the cockpit. I am sitting on the edge of my seat looking through the small opening to the cockpit. I'm stretching this vintage seat belt out so far it is confirmed that this mangled strap won't save me in a crash.\n\n\"I can't see anything, what do you see?\" The pilot, Max, asked the co-pilot, Dick. He kept his view in front of him, and isn't looking at Dick.\n\nWOM, WOM, WOM, WOM.\n\n\"I don't see anything. Just flurries.\" The snow is pummeling the aircraft and it is okay because it is still warm outside, and the flurries are turning to water and not ice when they hit the aircraft. I remember the pilot saying that.\n\n\"No GPS, no visibility. We're in bad shape Dick, pull out the maps.\"\n\nWOM, WOM, WOM, WOM.\n\nDick started fumbling around. I looked around me. I have 3 colleagues with me on this expedition. Isabella is the youngest and the newest addition to our team. She is sitting across from me. She is snugly sitting upright with her eyes closed. Her mouth is moving. Maybe she is praying. \n\nRene is our French oceanologist. This is her pet project. Her field of expertise. She is sitting in the seat next to Isabella, gripping both of the arm rests, with eyes wide open, switching her starry eyed gaze from the cockpit, to me, to the window, and running that circuit all over again.\n\nDoc Samuel is the senior researcher on our team. He is sitting in the row of seats behind us, the seat next to him is empty, and the two seats across from him are also empty. He has his head buried into his hand. His eyeglasses being pushed off of his face and onto his balding head. His bushy, silver colored mustache is moving periodically. He's talking to himself or licking his lips. He pulled the trigger on this flight, he must be going mad with guilt.\n\nI reached over to Doc and put a hand on his thigh. He immediately lifted his head, opened his eyes, and dropped his hand. \n\n\"Doc, no matter what, it's not your fault. We all wanted to go. We couldn't get trapped back in there in that storm.\"\n\nHis alarmed eyes settled back into their sockets. He appeared to relax his shoulders. He nodded his head to me several times, but otherwise said nothing.\n\n\"Dick, latitude, longitude. Find the spots! 38 north, 45 parallel!\"\nDick is struggling. He has a lot of maps spreading out over the console. Max is fighting the breeze of maps, trying to locate each gauge.\n\n\"Dick, I need you to focus! Find the right map!\"\n\nWhere's the alarm sound? I thought. The lack of alarm makes me worried more than the alarm.\n\nI looked at Isabella. Still praying, eyes closed. \n\nI looked at Rene, she looked from the cockpit to me. To the window. To the cockpit. To me.\n\nI looked back at Doc. He had his head buried in his hand again.\n\"Max, Max, MAX!\"\n\nWOM, WOM, WOM, WOM.\n\nA booming sound came from the right side. The plane shook violently. Up and down jolts so violent that it was hard to tell when it is going up or when it is going down.\n\nMy eyes widen and I grip the arm rests. The right side has gone eerily quiet.\n\nAnother boom, from my left. The plane shook side to side.\nWOM, WOM, WOM, WOM.\n\n\"Dear God!\" Dick said.\n\nMax is pulling around on the yolk while poking his finger on gauges.\n\"I've got nothing!\" He screams. The engines have blown out. First the right, then the left. An eerie quiet came over the plane. Isabella opened her eyes. She looked around. She closed her eyes again.\n\n\"Jesus, Jesus, Jesus...\" Dick continued.\n\nMax starts looking around. He looks back into the cabin. Our eyes meet. He presses his lips together and, maybe he nods, or maybe it was just a movement of the head as he shifted back towards the cockpit. I don't know, I don't see why it matters. \n\n\"Fuck. Fuck.\" Dick continued.\n\nDoc had lifted his head up and looked forward at the cockpit. He still had his hand cupped to his mouth. \n\nI slowly shifted backwards towards my seat against my power. I was pressed backwards onto my seat by a gentle force. As if it was a hand carrying me. It feels calm, gentle, and comforting. I could see everyone else also being pulled back into their seats. It is now that I understand that we are entering a free fall. Must be backwards. \n\n\"Fuck you God, you piece of shit. Fuck it all. Fuck your fucking luck, fuck your fucking labor, fuck your fucking life!\" Dick continued.\nMax was pulling and pushing the yolk lazily. It is just an object now, shaped like a yolk but as functional as a rock. He sat back in his seat and crossed his arms. \n\n\"If there is a God, that piece of shit, let me have mercy on this plane! Have mercy. Have Mercy!\" Dick continued. I think he meant to wish him to have mercy, or maybe it is a pilot's Freudian slip. It doesn't seem to matter now what he meant to say.\n\nDoc was staring forward, when I looked at him he did not divert his gaze to me. He has droplets of sweat across his wrinkled forehead.\nIsabella's eyes are still closed. Her eyebrows furrowed inward. She is rapidly moving her lips.\n\nRemy's eyes are still wide open. Her mouth is dropped and she is having trouble breathing. \n\nI looked back to the cockpit. All I see is many, many white flurries against a dark sky. And then it all goes black. Back to where I started 30 years ago, the blackness before I was born." ]	1
	[WP] Finally getting fed up with the Flat Earthers, a mad scientist has launched them all into orbit to force them to confront the truth.	[ "Jim-Bob was having none of it. \"You can't lock us up in this cell forever! People will miss us! The truth will come out!\"\n\n\nExasperated, Professor Pernicious went over it one more time from the safety of the well-secured cockpit. \"The main cabin is obviously NOT a cell. We marched you onto the rocket. You saw its size, you saw its windows showing the interior from without and the surroundings from within. You felt the force of LIFT-OFF and now look, you are FLOATING IN SPACE. You can not possibly believe that we are in a government compound when you can SEE that there is NO GRAVITY HERE!\"\n\n\nBecky-Sue shook her head and hissed, \"It's drugs! They got us all drugged up so we can't tell up from down! Probably strapped on gurneys in some lab! It's the chemical companies that got us -- its about those contrails spreading Gawd-knows-What on the people.\"\n\n\nGünter Hoeffner opined, \"Nien, Jim-Bob ist correct. Ist die government industrial complex --\"\n\n\n\"-- nuthin complex about it, it's the military!\" Jim-Bob cut in, but he was immediately drowned out by the ever-increasing clamor of the larger group.\n\n\nThere were calls of hypnotism, cranial-electro-stimulation, alien abduction, and more conspiracy theories than Professor Pernicious could shake a stick at. He was no longer sure why he'd diverted from his Master Plan to address these fools.... they were just so annoying that he found it impossible to go through with his central plan of world domination until he shut them UP. His only regret was that his ship could only hold an even hundred of the most vocal, obnoxious flat-earthers.\n\n\nA wicked smile played across Professor Pernicious' lips. \"Fine. Anyone who chooses to leave may do so through the door marked 'Air lock'.\"\n\n\nJim-Bob was the first with his on the door's wheel-lock, but Günter stayed it. \"Zis ist how they thin the herd. Vee must stand united.\"\n\n\nJim-Bob nodded. \"Yeah yeah yeah! It's probably a trap!\" He called to the larger crowd. Everyone! Find another door! Find a vent or something, we're gonna get out of here, but we're gonna do it OUR way!\"\n\nA whoop and holler rose from all as they set to kicking the seats (bolted in place), tearing at the wiring, and attempting to rip and remove and bits and pieces they could find. Someone found the emergency repair kit and tools were quickly distributed for maximum destruction.\n\n\nOne by one, the monitors in the cabin winked out as Professor Pernicious sulked at the cock-pit controls. The door between himself and his passengers had held unharmed through an initial assault, at which point the flat-earthers directed their attention to more immediately satisfying targets, like the air-exchange. \n\n\nWith no more visual feeds to see their progress, Professor Pernicious gave in to the option he dreaded most. He would turn the ship back to earth before the flat-earthers breached the exterior. He tried to tell himself it was a matter of self-preservation. He pretended the issue was that he didn't want to risk burning up on re-entry if they damaged the heat-shields or interfered with guidance, but he knew his design and that risk was negligible. \n\nNo, he thought, They don't even realize they'll die. There's no point even in killing them. He began the controlled descent. They call me mad, but these people are crazy." ]	1
	[WP] An escape plan involving mayo, a roll of duct tape, a dvd box set of Friends with one Disc missing, five years of archery skills, a jet pack that works backwards, and a Highschool Prom.	[ "You're locked in a room; alright, you can get behind that, lil' fast for the first date, but you can handle it.\n\nYou can't handle the whole 'CIA needs human volunteers for deadly injections, unfortunately no one volunteered.'\nFirst, you need to get outta this goddamn chair. You started thinking maybe being tied to a chair wasn't all it was cracked up to be.\n\nAlright, so maybe you can use something in the room to get out? It's surprisingly cluttered for a holding cell. Alright, score, a jar of Hellman's. Nice. Not really that relevant for your exit, but you like Hellman's so you're good if you find something that desperately needs Hellman's on it.\n\nHello, what do we have here? A disc set? Maybe you can cut the ropes with a disc from it.\n\n\"So no one told you life was gonna be this waaaay,\" you mutter softly as you rub the disc against the ropes. Dammit, you dropped the disc. Alright, well you still have six seasons, so just keep going.\n\nAnother down, okay, so this is happening way too often.\n\nAnother disc meets a tragic end, and then another. You say goodbye to another when you sneeze, and another when you try and rub your nose with your tiED HANDS. Alright, one left. Make it count.\n\n...\n\nThere isn't any left.\n\nWho leaves a boxset with only six of the seven discs actually in the set? Barbaric, is what it is.\n\nHey, look, a jetpack. If you use that properly, you could burn the ropes off?\n\nYou... are well aware that's a terrible idea. But hey, the words 'lethal injection' are practically your motto by now, so you'll try anything at this point. You nudge the jetpack towards you, when suddenly it activates. It's chill, though, because even though the bit the fire comes out of was pointed straight at your face, someone must've been looking out for you. The flames start to shoot out of the top, and it smashes through the chair, reducing it to basically driftwood.\n\nYou have entirely too much luck, both bad and good.\n\nYou stand up, and stretch. You'd been in that chair for 30 minutes before you started to think this wasn't something that regularly occurs on dates.\n\nYou've got to admit, thinking about it, the CIA plan makes sense: where else would you find deadbeats that won't be missed in such numbers than High-school Proms?\n\nSo you're out of the chair, that's a plus.\n\nYou try the door, and surprise, surprise, it's locked.\n\nYou spend five minutes fiddling without duct tape trying to fashion a key, before you give up, and pick up the bunch of sticks they have for some reason in a holding cell.\n\nSeriously, this is a weird holding cell.\n\nYou just- just!- spot the vent on the ceiling as you're about to ram the door.\n\nYou sigh, thinking you're probably going to leave that out of the story you tell your friends when you escape.\nOr if. But you're trying not to think about that.\n\nUsing the chair's remains, you can just about reach the vent, so you chuck the duct tape and sticks up, and it only takes three tries before you get them up.\n\nYou haul yourself up, and crawl through the vent for a few metres.\n\nIt suddenly strikes you that you have no goddamned clue where the vents go. Welp.\n\nYou stop at the first opening you see, and prepare to drop down, when you suddenly realise something.\n\nThis is still the High School.\n\nYou were in the janitor's closet.\n\nWait, why does the janitor have a broken jetpack?\n\nYou jump down, and you've got just enough time to fashion a rudimentary bow-and-arrow.\n\nVery rudimentary.\n\nDuct tape doesn't make the best bowstring, but hey, it'll do.\n\nNah, it won't.\n\nA teacher spots you, and thank god it's only your English teacher.\n\n\"What are you doing out here? And... With a... is that supposed to be a bow and arrow?\"\n\n\"Yes?\"\n\nHe sighs, and you can just see him kind of mentally chanting that it won't be long before you leave for good.\n\n\"Alright, I don't care, just go somewhere else.\"\n\nYou have the best English teacher.\n\nYou can see some CIA agent looking people lurking around the hall, and they're smart, too, because they're \nguarding the fire alarms.\n\nYou glance at the bow, and then at the fire alarm.\n\nNo.\n\nYes.\n\nYou take aim, hoping your steady hand hasn't forsaken you now.\n\nThe shot is both amazing and terrible.\n\nFunnily, a bow made of duct tape and arrows made of sticks aren't really the most accurate.\n\nYou hit the agent-looking guy instead of the alarm.\n\nHe flinches back...\n\nAnd his hand...\n\nGrabs the fire alarm, pulling it as he tries to right himself.\n\n'ZIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNGGGGGGG!'\n\nSuddenly, you're surrounded by other kids, and you're hidden from sight.\n\nYou've escaped." ]	1
	[WP] A drinking contest in an old timey pub.	[ "\"All right Luci, what are the stakes this time?\" God asked.\n\n\"If I win, I get to make one crazy thing happen this year, and you can't stop me from doing it.\" Lucifer replied.\n\n\"And if I win?\" God asked.\n\n\"Then I'll give up any one contracted soul of your choice. We gotta deal?\"\n\nGod thought a moment. \"Sure, why not? First one to pass out or puke loses. Let's go.\n\nHours later, The Devil was puking into a toilet while smiling to himself. He'd be sick for days, but it was worth it. By the time 2016 was over he'd find a helluva way to have some fun." ]	1
	[WP] You attempt to pronounce some of the furniture names at Ikea. In doing so, you've summoned a demon.	[ "It started when I first arrived. \"I know, I'll find myself a nice wardrobe to go with the new carpet\". What a stupid idea, as if it could have been that simple.\n\nThe first sign presented itself to me before I even entered; I was foolish enough to ask a fellow visitor something when I noticed them in the parking lot with a wardrobe I thought would suit me.\n\n\"What's the name of that wardrobe?\" I asked. Why didn't I just walk away? The name came back \"Oändlig Labyrint\".\n\nAnd so into the store I marched, confident in finding my prize. \"Oändlig Labyrint\" I muttered as I entered the first room, which was filled with decorations and cushions. But something seemed. . off. The people were almost as if caught in a dream. It was beautiful, cosy, with all the right sights and sounds and yet somehow cold and lifeless - like a field of nylon grass.\n\nI knew then that He was watching - deep in my heart of hearts, I felt His glare on the nape of my neck.\n\nNow Exhausted, I stumble through the winding maze of confusion and doors. Each door leads me to another room, but none leads out, none leads back to the safety of earthly reality which I have come to miss so dearly.\n\nIn the toneless and bleak soundscape of endless piped music, I hear Him breathing every note. Each tune constructed from the same mood as the last, never the same and yet always repeating.\n\nLike zombies, people wander through the rooms around me. They don't know they're dead, they just keep chattering and browsing, chattering and browsing - the subliminal trance of His soft and hypnotic song keeps them ever imprisoned as they stumble around His great rooms of furniture and housewares.\n\n\"Do you think these would go well with the sofa?\" I hear one remark as I rush past.\n\n\"I love this green!\" another one exclaims.\n\n\"Oooh, look at those curtains\"\n\nAs I tire from my pitiful and pointless attempts at escape, I notice a door. Above it a sign reads \"exit\". \n\nIt can't be real, I think to myself. I try the door. It's locked.\n\nQuietly, I drop to my knees. My vision now blurring from exhaustion and tears, I stare at the ground for a minute.\n\nHe is watching. He is laughing, I can almost picture His smirk as I hear another of His victims cries carried on the air \"Mummmyyyy I wanna go hooommmmeee\"\n\n\"No\". I whisper to myself as I stand.\n\n\"This ends now\" My voice a bit louder as I back up. I notice the people near me are chattering less. It's working, the spell is breaking.\n\n\"THIS ENDS NOW!\" My voice rings out through the air, as deafening silence falls on the room. I charge towards the door, screaming \"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA\" - I smash into the door with all my might. It gives open, and a great ringing bell can be heard echoing through the horrific halls of cushions and cheap chipboard boxes.\n\nFreedom! I push the door open, to the sweet caressing touch of air - real air. I'm in a parking lot. I run a few meters, dropping to my knees to kiss the ground. I look behind me - people are pouring out of the small door on the side of the great concrete tomb.\n\nThe spell is broken! No longer will He hold captive hapless spouses, no longer will small children be forced to trudge endlessly through His demon halls of endless tedium, no longer will His song of dissociative illusion mesmerise and capture innocent weekday workers.\n\n\"There he is, get him!\" I hear His minions call as they charge towards me. I have angered the great Demon, I have hurt him. Good.\n\nI take flight towards greater freedom - and before long, I am at the station. HIs minions were fat and clumsy, they could never catch me.\n\nNow I know my true purpose. I know I can hurt Him, and I know how. There is another Ikea in Croydon, I am heading there now.\n\n", "So, picture this: I'm at Ikea, looking around a new section with Some furniture with the Swedish names still on the label. I look at a piece of furniture I liked. It was a kind of cupboard. I decided I was going to buy it, and looked at the name. I had learned a bit of Swedish for no reason, just because I wanted to. I tried to pronounce the name, when suddenly a portal opens right in front of me. I was completely amazed at what stepped out of it. It was a large, bipedal creature with reptile like scales. It must have been at least 8 foot tall. I heard it talk in a heavy voice: \"you have summoned me! The reason for this better be good! I looked up at it in amazement and said: \"I'm sorry, I didn't intend to summon you, I was trying to pronounce the name of this thing. I pointed at the label. The creature looked at it, visibly smiled, and said: \"Wow! The human named a piece of furniture after me! That means they know about us demons!\" I told him we didn't know about the demons, and the grin dissapeared from his face entirely. \"Well then, explain why my name is on the piece of furniture. And this name\", he said, pointing at another label,\" is my brothers name!\" I sighed, and explained to him that these labels weren't in this language. He asked what language it was, and why he hadn't been summoned there yet. I told him it was Swedish, and that I don't know why he hadn't been summoned there yet. He looked visibly shocked, and said:\"I gotta go now, dinner is almost ready and my wife is having a bad day already. See you later!\" He opened a portal stepped through it, and as the portal closed, I was left with a lot of questions.\n\nI ended up buying the piece and never saying its name again.", "Maindel vaamb Maratae. Maindel smer Michael. Maindel vaamb...IKEA, this is Jeff speaking.\n\nYou know that feeling when you realize that you've really messed up? You're feeling that right now. It's not obvious just what you've done, but holy shit, you've done something.\n\nThe IKEA where you just got through training as an Expediter (or something) has fallen dark. Only a few flickering lights illuminate the clouds of your breath. Whoever was on the other end of the desk phone, they say nothing.\n\n\"Sup?\" A high pitched voice calls from behind you. You jerk around, mouth gaping. The phone drops to the counter.\n\nSitting atop the bookshelf behind customer service is a white crow with sunken red eyes. It's nearly the size of a Labrador Retriever. \"Uh, Hell on Earth, paging Jeff?\" It says, in that same high voice.\n\n\"W-what-,\" You start.\n\nThe crow hops to the linoleum, stirring up a thin layer of ash. \"I thought so,\" it says, \"You have no clue what you just said, do you? Nope. Just trying to nail down some product names?\"\n\nInstinctively you back away. Half a foot, because there's a desk behind you. You try, though. The pale bird turns it's head, makes a sound somewhere between a coo and a laugh, and says, \"Maindel, come to this place. Maindel, who slew St. Michael. Maindel, come to...IKEA, Jeff speaking.\"\n\nFinally, you manage to say, \"Oh my fucking god.\"\n\nMaindel shakes his head, \"Not here, although it looks like he's fucked you a lot. And I mean, not gently. I haven't seen anyone so young balding so badly since 1647. Then, of course, there's the fact that you called a Demon Lord of Hell to a Connecticut IKEA.\"\n\nSince your back's almost literally against the wall, you guess nothing can hurt. \"The...power of Christ compels you?\"\n\n\"No,\" Maindel says, \"Been through this last time I came to some poor guy in an IKEA. The power of Christ does not compel me, crucifixes are kind of funny looking if they have the dead guy, and if you know what's good for you, you won't try holy water.\"\n\nYou're still horrified, of course, but now you're also curious. \"Why not holy water?\"\n\n\"Gets on the feathers and takes away essential oils that make them all shiny.\" Maindel answers.\n\n\"Oh.\"\n\nMaindel looks up at you and says, \"Well, let's get this over with. You've got one wish, which I will of course twist horribly. Make it or not, I'm going to be eating your liver forever, and you look like you have a nice one. No offense, but they're better when they've got a little fat on them.\"\n\nYou pick up the phone like a club, and Maindel leaps in one swift motion to your shoulder. He's surprisingly light, but his claws cut through your shirt. \"Really, don't,\" he says, \"I'm a little guy, and yes, this is my real body. You struggle, and I'll have to call in a fleshbeast. You don't want that. It's just a job, man. What I do here is just a job.\"", "Umlauts... fucking umlauts, I swear to... whoever, whatever idiot decided to wed the Roman alphabet to a culture that had previously only used runes for writing deserves to be dealing with this catastrophe more than me. Then again, maybe they did.\n\nFurniture; cheap, crap-tier furniture is all I'd mentally prepared myself to handle today, and on any other day that would've been enough. A simple proposition: I hand you way too much money, you hand me a thousand pieces of plywood, fasteners, and those stupid L-shaped things that rip your hands raw, with the side effect of making the fasteners hold the whole abomination together. Turns out, the deal I unintentionally made that day was somehow even more unfair.\n\nNow, Mr. Ikea security guard, you may be wondering why I've stopped here to tell you this, whilst every other customer is tearing ass out of here, into the parking lot with half of them wreathed in green flame. Two things: one, to admire the various stains now adorning your pants (great choice of career path, buddy) and two, because you're the only one who's basically obligated to stay due to company policy, and I need someone to tell the cops this story so that I don't have TWO things chasing me today. Norse demons are a big enough problem without donut dippers complicating the issue.\n\nHere's the deal: came in here about an hour ago, ostensibly to JUST buy a reasonably priced bookcase for a niece of mine who's about to start reading for real. My sister and the brother-in-law (not his fault really, good guy) are busting my balls to make up for all the years I never got her a birthday gift. My point was \"if the kid's not going to remember this whole phase of her life, why should I dip into my pocket for something now?\", but you try telling that to a woman who's in full mother mode; the demon's probably the bigger pushover. Anyway, I figure I pop in here, grab some lunch, get one just good enough to not fall apart by the time this kid hits middle school, and make a lazy afternoon of it. Honestly, I could've just given the kid all the books I read as a child myself and that would've been good enough, but where would a person PUT those books then? Way I saw it, buy the bookcase, give the books for free, and all's forgiven with the kinfolk.\n\nWell, the universe always gives you a little boost before it pulls the rug out from under you, because at least phase 1 ended up well. I know you've shat and pissed yourself, and we're surrounded by roasted corpses, but I have to be honest: those meatballs you guys sell are fucking next-level. I know you guys took some shit a while back because they found out you guys were using horsemeat instead of beef or something, but if you ask me you could've ground up Mr. Ed in front of me and I'd be asking for the sauce all the same.\n\nWhat? Oh right, the demon part, I just got a whiff of the sauce on my beard and I got distracted. I got done with lunch and sauntered over to the bookcase section; and by sauntered I mean the Baatan Death March would've been more leisurely due to the floor design. Finally I get there, and between the malaise only lunch can induce and the 'stroll', I was a bit hazy by the time I got there, so honestly all of this was just an unintentional bit of brain-farting. I was just looking at all the models, weighing the pros and cons of each, trying mainly to figure out which one would be the least pain in the ass to assemble. As I did, I did what all consumers do when confronted by a plethora of meaningless choices: I said all the names one by one. Now look, I'm told there's some Norse-ish blood on my father's side of the family, but truth be told you go back a couple generations on that side and the documentation gets lost in the ether and nobody knows who's really from where, so to say my ability to speak anything with dots above the letters is really asking for something beyond my ability. I don't know if I slurred something, if the moving crews flipped the arrangement of the stock around, if Jupiter was in retrograde, whatever: point is it wasn't that long before IT showed up.\n\nIn retrospect, it was almost buffoonishly cliché how the whole thing turned out; you'd imagine in a culture where the Id is on steroids would've just started laying waste and wouldn't have been so formal about it... at least in the beginning. I mean, it started out the way it ALWAYS turns out in the media: big red glowing pentagram appears on the ground, smoke and the smell of sulfur, a giant red horned man with hooves slowly rises from the floor inside the pentagram, the works. I was beginning to wonder if somehow I'd underestimated the native Wiccan population and Ikea was doing some kind of ham-fisted promotional stunt to increase sales, when the... thing, started lumbering over to me. Now, bear in mind, this thing was like 8 to 10 feet tall, so even with the ceiling as high as it was the thing had to stoop to keep from tearing a stripe through the roof. He reaches out with an arm that looks like it could rip a redwood out of the ground no problem and grabs MY arm. Before I can even begin to wonder 'why me?', it had already scratched some runes into my skin with it's long black claw; then it dropped me. Barely got back on my feet before the thing started talking, and bizarrely enough in English. Now, being a man of science this turn of events was already carving some serious doubt into my brain, moreso than the claw had. Thinking back on it, now that the adrenaline's worn off a bit, I probably should've listened to what it was saying initially after it'd let me go, but trying to figure out why a demon from presumably a Judeo-Christian mythology would be speaking English, yet carving Norse runes regrettably occupied my thinking for the first few moments. It was talking something about 'blood pact' or 'ancient lineage, last of the line', maybe something else about rivers of blood and a scourge upon Man, but honestly the tone was so monotonous my own personal thinking seemed more important. It wasn't until the thing inhaled so deep it basically doubled in size, then breathed a gout of hellfire down towards the kitchen section that it regained my full attention. Maybe that, or the screaming, doesn't really matter NOW I suppose.\n\nBasically, thanks to pretentious Swedish labeling and the fact that too many of my male ancestors had struck it out on love, I was now obliged to request ONE service from the demon, afterwards my soul would act as a conduit by which all of demonkind would finally be granted unrestricted access to the mortal realm. Now, here's where in the movies the protagonist comes up with some kind of impossible task, or action-stars his way into defeating the demon in single-combat and banishing it back to the nether-realm. Thing is, there's only SO MUCH creativity you can truly muster in that kind of situation when you have a community college degree and you're 50 pounds overweight, so in a pinch you do what most people like me do: half-ass something and hope it allows you to get out of the building before people realize what a scumbag you are. I mustered what little bad-assery was in me and in my most bold-sounding tone I said \"What has been rent asunder, you must make whole. Your service is not fulfilled until all the objects in this place are complete\". Then, I booked it out here (grabbing a box of those meatballs to go. I mean, who's gonna notice?); the rest, they say, is history.\n\nWhy am I not afraid? Why am I not concerned for my soul and the fate of all mankind? Buddy, while assembling the furniture you guys sell isn't an IMPOSSIBLE task; for a guy with massive proportions working on substandard wood with anger management issues who's ironically also bound by ancient rules, it's pretty fucking close. The way I figure it, either the thing gives up and goes back home, the cops/priests grease him, or he spends at least the rest of my life doing everyone a favor and making the place a no-go zone. In the meantime, I've got some errands to do.\n\nWhat are those, exactly? Well, ironically, a lot of those books I read as a child were mythology books, and Norse mythology reads a touch too literal when it comes to situations like this. A little skin graft here, a little transfusion/donation there during my lunch breaks at the hospital, and I'll pretty much have hedged my bets. What about the bookcase? Eh, my other sister runs some misguided antique side-business, only she never bothers to inventory what she's got. A little five-finger discount, and one hand will have washed the other.\n\nSometimes, the hero of the story doesn't wear a cape.", "“Riiiiktig,” whispered Skylar, squinting as she gritted her teeth and tried to push the pronunciation out of her mouth. “Ooooogla? Weird ass way to spell ‘curtain rings’ amirite?” \n\nSkylar tapped at the curtain rings and sort of laughed awkwardly to herself. There was nobody else around her. She’d gotten herself pretty lost in the winding, endless maze of the store, and resorted to reading out the item names to entertain herself lest she panic. \n\nShe smelled something off to her right, then dropped down to have a smell of some nice green candles there. \n\n“Fyrrrkkantig,” said Skylar, flaring her nostrils a little like she was starting to enjoy these funny names. She ran her finger around the outline of the square candles, and repeated it again. “Fyrrrrkantig.” \n\nShe noticed a slight rumbling in the ground, though it passed a moment later. Skylar figured it was probably the ventilation system somehow, and went over to some tube light bulbs. \n\n“Sparsam,” she said, pushing her head back some as she did it, like the word had a surprisingly refreshing taste in her mouth. “Sparsam, makes sense probably a good efficient light bulb. Uses a sparse amount of electricity. Sparsam.” \n\nThe light bulbs sort of started to flicker in her hand. She set it down and walked away from that spot with a face that looked like she had a stomach ache. \n\n“That was weird,” she whispered, as she went over to a bed, and read out the word, “Smorboll.” \n\nSay them all at once, whispered a voice in her mind, as the air took on a mist. \n\n“Uhh,” said Skylar, turning around like she thought somebody in the store had heard her. “Who said that?” \n\nI uhhh, I work here say them again for a prize, said the voice in her head. \n\n“You sound like you’re coming from like,” Skkylar pointed in every direction around her. “Sound like you’re coming from everywher-”\n\nSAY ALL THE SWEDISH WORDS YOU SAID, shouted the whisper in her mind. \n\n“SURE, okay for a prize? Okay uhh,” Skylar put her hands up like she didn’t want any trouble. “Uhh, it’s,” She shut her eyes and snapped her fingers. “Riiktig Oogla,” She put on this strained expression as she tried to get out the next words. She was hoping she’d get a sofa for it. “Fyyyrrkantig, Sparsam smorbollll.” \n\nThere were murmurs from other shoppers in the distance, as all the store lights started to flicker. A faint earthquake took the ground, and wobbled some of the chairs enough to make them dance around on their legs. A mist formed to the right of Skylar, as a deep bellowing voice like one coming from the bottom of a canyon screamed back up to her within the confines of her head. It sounded like the dark tongue of Mordor. \n\nBelllllhhaammm, whispered a voice as a burned face the size of her torso formed in the wall of the fake bedroom she’d wandered into. Odddmmmjuk \n\n“Uhhhmm can I uhh,” said Skylar, as the face tried to writhe itself out of the wall. Some of its fiery neck came through, as it said more Ikea words. “Can I please speak with the manager?” \n\n[Part 2](https://www.reddit.com/r/Oscar_Relentos/comments/7bffw0/humor_demons_in_ikea_part_2/)" ]	5
Bonus points if a therapist is involved.	[WP] In a world where mental illness is literally a battle in someone's mind, describe a fight between someone and their illness.	[ "\"Sit down. Sit down. What? Your parents aint teach ya any manners? A boy like you. Look at you. It's terrible. Sit down. Yes. Just like that. Now make yourself comfortable. It's not much but it's home. Would you like something to drink? Perhaps a cookie or a biscuit. No? Come one. Don't make me beg. Don't embarrass me like that. Have something to eat. Yes. Yes. Keep eating it. What? You're not hungry. Oh sweet dear. Who cares. It will make you feel good. Just sit there and keep eating. All finished? I'll get you some more. Oh don't feel bad. It's nothing. Nothing at all, love. You just sit there and keep snacking. Open up wide. Take it all in. Don't stop. Oh. You're feeling sick. Oh you poor thing. Just take your time and lie down. Here. Let me get you a pillow. Oh you poor thing. You shouldn't do that to yourself. It aint good for a young man like you to be stuffing his face like that. It's not cute. You're an embarrassment. I wonder what you parents think of you. A right shame they must be. Your friends must call you names behind your back. I mean look at you. You're so ugly and hideous. Just sends shivers down my spine. Look at your self. No. Don't you dare turn away. Look straight ahead and see what you've become. There's only you to blame. After all, who forced you to eat all that. Aint no one put that fork in your hand honey. Just look at you. Hmm. Not that bad you know. I mean just turn around here. There. Right there. You're not so bad. There's a good looking man buried deep in there. Oh, yes there is. Would I lie to you? Just cause you look this way doesn't mean you'll always look this way. You got to be better. Do better. Now. Just a week. Don't eat anything. It's not starving. Look at all that fat. You know I read in a book that the body burns fat for energy. If you don't eat, then your body will be forced to burn all that fat. It's true. Just a week. Fine. One day. A day. You can do that. Don't tell me you can't look a whole hour has passed. Was that too much? No. It was horrendous. God. What are you doing to yourself? You want to get sick! You have to eat something. You just have to eat. If God wanted people to be stick figures, he'd make a world without sugar. Now come one. Don't be silly. Take a bite. Just a nibble. It won't hurt you. You're just wasting away. Who's gonna know? I won't tell anyone. It will be our secret. No one will know that you're such a disgusting slob. Look at you. Just stuffing your face. Have you no self control. God. Not a one day could have passed and you're already trying to go for the world record. I'm sick of looking at you. Get out. Get out. Yes. I said to leave. No wait. Don't go. Sit down. Sit down. What? Your parent aint teach ya any manners?\" ", "\"Hey buddy what'cha doing?\"\n\n\"Oh, hi Andy, I uh... I didn't realize you were coming over today.\"\n\n\"Well you know me huh? I'm feeling pretty good today too.\"\n\n\"Okay... I'll take one of my meds and we can hang until you're gone I guess.\"\n\n\"Sorry bud, you're out remember? You were gonna call the doc, but forgot when we hung out Tuesday.\"\n\n\"Shit. I guess I'll call her now then.\"\n\n\"Buddy, buddy. What's the rush? I just got here.\"\n\n\"We both know that's not true. Anyway I have a big assignment due next week, and you know I've been putting it off, but I gotta get to it. We're doing bad in that class an-\"\n\n\"Buddy, we're doing bad in all the classes, nothing we do now is gonna recover. Let's just get your mind off it, play some Guild Wars and see if any of your subs have put up a new video.\"\n\n\"C'mon, I really want to try this time. As much as I don't want to do the work, I gotta do it. Where's my phone... ?\"\n\n\"You gonna see if daily rewards are up in FE:Heroes? Has it been a day yet?\"\n\n\"I dunno lemme check.\"\n\n__________\n\n\"Wait, we're playing Burrito Bison, did we call the therapist?\"\n\n\"I dunno, I thought we were going to play Guild Wars, and check Twitch.\"\n\n\"Fine, after I call the doctor.\"\n\n\"Sure, sure, I'll just start it up for you while you find her number.\"\n\n\"Okay.\"\n\n_____\n\n\"Hey Dr. Rodriguez . . . Yeah, yeah I'm doing fine . . . Uh, no . . . No I thought I made it that time . . . I guess I could come in, I mean I called you because I'm ran out of my meds . . . I don't remember when . . . Yeah I know, you've told me before . . . sigh I don't know . . . Okay I understand . . . Next Tuesday? When? . . . I think I have class then, but I guess I can skip it . . . Okay I guess . . . No... I haven't started yet, I was going to start today, but I'm outta meds like I said and- . . . What? Oh I'm just mining in my game, Dammit, sorry, what were you saying? . . . Okay, I'll make sure to pick them up, thanks Dr. Rodriguez . . . Yeah I'll remember, I'll be there . . . Okay you too, bye.\"\n\n\"Man she is so wordy.\"\n\n\"I know, I checked out like half-way through.\"\n\n\"I'm bored, let's play something else.\"\n\n\"Yeah me too.\"\n\n\"Oh, try that boss in Hallow Knight some more.\"\n\n\"Eh, I don't really feel like that one Andy.\"\n\n\"Fine then how about -\"\n\n______\n\n\"Andy it's Three A.M. We have class tomorrow.\"\n\n\"Not until the afternoon it's fine, oh hey, That one has a Toucan, let's watch that.\"\n\n\"Ugh, fine...\"\n\n_____\n\n\"Wait... SHIT! That's the time?!\"\n\n\"Yup, guess we forgot to set our phone alarm last night.\"\n\n\"Fucking... I know I did though, didn't I?\"\n\n\"Evidently not, don't worry though, we'll just stay home today, see if anyone is on right now.\"\n\n\"Yeah I guess we're too late to catch the city bus.\"\n\n\"C'mon can't you load up faster?\"\n\n\"It's old man, you gotta let it think.\"\n\n\"Whatever, just check Reddit on your phone.\"\n\n\"I guess so.\"\n\n\"Oh, that's interesting... this stupid administration... yo, that's an amazing painting. Hey buddy, when are you going to paint again?\"\n\n\"I dunno, I've been busy with class, and trying to find a part time, and-\"\n\n\"Oh hey, the computers ready, let's open Reddit, and Deviantart, and Tumblr, and Youtube, and Twitch.\"\n\n\"Like always? Fine.\"\n\n_____\n\n\"Hello? Oh hey Shawn . . . I mean, I got a big assignment due in four days that I haven't started yet -\"\n\n\"Hey bud don't sweat that, we can totally go hang with Shawn.\"\n\n\"Sorry what were you saying I - . . . Shit, that sounds awesome, I'll ask Jason if he can give me a ride over . . . Yeah I'll bring my deck . . . Okay ya.\"\n\n\"Yo that sounded awesome.\"\n\n\"I know! Help me find my deck while I call Jason.\"\n\n\"Hey, I found you house key.\"\n\n\"I was wondering where that was . . . Hi, hey Jason -\"\n\n_____\n\n\"This is boring, let's watch a different show.\"\n\n\"I mean I thought it was cool, but okay, what do you wanna - Hello? . . . Oh, Hi Dr. Rodriguez . . . Wha-? Oh Fuck me! I mean, sorry, I mean - . . . Yeah, I know I said I was going to, I thought I let a note on my phone calendar . . . I'll see if my room mate Jason can... Wait he's out at his girlfriend's until Friday, okay, lemme try and find the bus schedule so I can get down town to CVS- . . . What? Tommor- oh yeah we had an appointment set up that's right. Let me find a pen to right it down so I remember to set a phone alarm to catch the bus, wait, I was looking for the bus schedule that's right, Oh hey, that's right my house key was here, I should put it back on my key-ring so I don't forget it, wait where are my keys? Hold on doctor, lemme try and find my keys- . . . What? No, I'm doing okay, just a little, I mean you know, it's been, shit, it's been a week right? Since I called you about how I ran out? . . . No I'll be okay, I'll just call Mom instead . . . sigh I know . . . Okay, I'll be sure to be there . . . You too Dr. Rodriguez, I'll see you tomorrow, bye.\"\n\n\"So, find your keys?\"\n\n\"Yeah, right, find my keys.\"\n\n\"Wait, put on Pandora, it'll make it less boring.\"\n\n\"Sure.\"\n\n\"No, skip this song, I don't want to hear it right now.\"\n\n_____\n\n\"Hello? . . . Dammit, hi Dr. Rodriguez . . . I'm sorry I'm working on my assignment right now, it's due tomorrow and I've been forgetting to do it and- . . . No, I haven't been forgetting you're right, I guess I've been putting it off . . . I know it's not a good thing I just... you know . . . I know it's not an excuse, it's just hard . . . No I still haven't picked up my Methylin, I guess I've been putting that off too . . . I understand, I'll call her right now . . . Okay, goodnight Doctor.\"\n\n\"Hey Buddy, you done with that? Let's go check Reddit.\"\n\n\"We're on Reddit right now. I'm not gonna do that, I'm gonna call Mom.\"\n\n\"What? We don't need that, c'mon. Oh look Shawn just got on Blizzard, let's call him.\"\n\n\"No! I'm calling Mom!\"\n\n\"Fine, waste more time, you'll never get this assignment done.\"\n\n\"I know that, but I need her help, you've over stayed your welcome Andy.\"\n\n\"Whatever, I'll still be here, and I'll still get my way.\"\n\n\"Hey Google, call Mom... Hi Mom? Hey, I need a favor . . .\"", "It wasn't a fight.\n\n\nIt was a slaughter.\n\n\nIf you can call being stabbed by your shadow with its serrated edges, slowly, every hour, every day, a slaughter.\n\n\nIt wasn't. It implies someone was killed. I wasn't killed by the thorns of insecurity. I wasn't killed by the crushing weight of anxiety. I wasn't killed by heartbreaks, by the horrifying pus-filled scabs distrust wrought all over my body, or anything.\n\n\nI lived.\n\n\nI lived with the shadow, always at the corner of my mind. I lived, loved and laughed with the monster at my back. At times I felt free. Free from the grapples of the shadow. The days when we were at the beach. Or when we hiked a mountain. Remember the day we got lost on our roadtrip? I did. Always. It was fun.\n\n\nBut even during all those times I felt its sneer. Its smirk. Its eyes rolling. Its cold, prickling nails scratching lightly against my skin. As if it knew I was just fooling around. That sooner or later, by the end of the day, as soon as I lay down my head, I still need to face it. To fight it. I tried to.\n\n\nMy friends helped me. My meds helped me. The games I play, the alcohol I drink, and the girls I fuck without your knowledge, they all helped me, each in their own way. Most of all, you helped me. You all helped me fight back the waves of the crashing ocean the shadow was. Even when I don't deserve it. Even when you're fighting your own demons too.\n\n\nBut it was like fighting the ocean with pitchforks. It never helped me win, but it felt good to know you're still fighting. And knowing somehow helped in its own way. I'm still fighting. Yes. I played that same mantra to myself over and over again. Like a broken record. The one that doesn't last.\n\n\nI felt like falling headfirst into the shadow when I heard the news. My dad was caught cheating. Mom died in an car accident; some suspect it wasn't an accident at all. My older brother passed shortly after he overdosed his meds. In summary, shit hit the fan. The shadow.. I never thought I was trying to fight it at this range. Now it is even closer. It's behind me. He's behind me. Holding me. I can't move. I feel paralyzed on my bed. I lost my appetite. I can't sleep. I felt like I could go on for days without even lifting a finger. How long can I stay alive like this? I asked at the ceiling. \n\n\nShorter than you think. It seemed to reply. I felt him nod his monstrous head. The Shadow. Shadow. I felt like I knew him as a person. I felt like he's me. He stopped his attacks. The waves ceased. We finally agreed. But he loved hurting me and, surprisingly, I love being hurt. He.. I started hurting myself. It felt good. It felt like I finally got what I deserved. I felt relieved. Happy.\n\n\nIn no time, I realized we weren't fighting anymore.\n\n\nIt wasn't a slaughter either. A slaughter implies someone killed another. This isn't the case for me, lying on my bed, lifeless.\n\n\nIt was suicide.", "‘Let me focus!’ He screamed internally at his brain as the words in front of him merged into a wall of hieroglyphics. \n\nEach motionless object was an irresistible doorway to a daydream - a daydream in which he could swim for hours at a time without realising it. An attempt to ignore all these ideas he was flooded by would be merely pointless, he couldn’t prevent it, he couldn’t stop it, he couldn’t control it...\n\n“Jordan! Snap our of it! Why haven’t you finished it yet? It’s been 15 minutes, the rest of the kids were finished long ago. Focus!”\n\nThese words of a teacher who lacked empathy dragged him out of that flood. He now was not looking at an storm of thoughts, but at a unimpressed and rather annoyed teacher. \n\n‘I-I’m trying..” he tried to speak despite his embarrassment. He would explain that he struggles, but no one understood. No one ever did. Will anyone ever do? Jordan was tired of trying, the end result was always the same. He just began to accept that he’s lazy and not trying hard enough. \n\n“No you’re not! If you did you’d be done by now. Stay after class please, you’re not leaving until it’s done.” The teacher ordered, humiliating helpless Jordan in front of everyone. \n\nHe could feel everybody’s eyes on him. Their judging eyes which did not even try to understand. \n\nA tear cascaded down his cheek. \n\nHe looked back down at the page. Starting from the beginning, once again. After several attempts to comprehend the lines of letters the words would eventually fall into place, into order; he understood without forgetting what he read or being disturbed by his own brain. He knew the answers, it was easy, but he couldn’t focus long enough to do all 13 questions all at once. \n\nThe word ‘integration’ opened yet another door to a happy memory from last year, when he and his (now gone) best friend were watching a movie in a maths lesson. This has reminded him of the needs of purchasing a new ruler because his one broke. \n\nAn idea fell on top his current one: ‘how did that ruler break? Oh yes! Tony used it as an instrument in music two months ago. Damn. I was meant to buy a new one two months ago-‘ he had thought. \n\n‘Shit! Stop! Focus!’ Jordan became conscious of his daydream and managed to escape. \n\nThe chain of thought carried on every time something reminded him of something, or when he’d suddenly remembered. \n\nHe peeked at the clock, it was 4:47pm. Over an hour after school he had stayed. He instinctively looked towards the window. A doorway, an escape from the tedious reality. There were birds swinging, other students playing football as their extra curricular activity, gentle wind brushing the branches of the nearby trees. Each single stimuli was an distraction, he knew it would be bad to look there, but it somehow spoke to him, he wanted to escape this mental torture. \n\nJordan was done now. All 13 questions answered. Yet, 7 of them were wrong. Not because he didn’t know the answer, but because he missed crucial details. A minus in his calculations, a decimal place or units. \n\n“Fine. You’re free to go.” She had said as she binned his effort. \n\nAs of that moment a Jordan left the class room, he felt as valuable as that piece of paper she’d thrown in the bin. Worthless. \n\n‘Ah right, buy a ruler’ he scribbled on his outer palm as a reminder. \n\nHe swam in his thoughts freely, bombarded by ideas. He didn’t mind it then, he hated it only when he couldn’t do what he was supposed to. \n\nTime has passed, the sun hid behind the rooftops, the night has started. The winter air blew against his face and brushed his hair: it was time to go home. \n\nHis boots kicked the snow as he walked, his frozen hands busy in his pockets, his coat kept him warm - protected him from the icy wind. Jordan liked messing about during winter time, there always was plenty of snow to play with. He could get creative with it and put his creative mind into an use. \n\nAfter making half a dozen tiny snow sculptures, he arrived home. It was late, his alcoholic father was not impressed. \n\nFew seconds passed before he realised his father was talking to him. He could see his mouth moving, but his mind was not there to listen to his drunk words of anger. After being told off by his only parent for underachieving academically, he ate the pizza left overs from yesterday. He then showered and went to bed mentally exhausted. \n\nYet, he was wide awake by the time his head hit the pillow. His mind as creative and busy as ever. As if a whole ant nest was in there, always busy, always working, always thinking... \n\nThen he remembered. Jordan disappointedly looked at his hand to confirm his thought. It was clean, it wasn’t there anymore. The reminder he wrote washed away. He forgot to buy a ruler - again. \n\n———\nI tried to portray a fight a person with ADHD might have to put up with on daily basis. I don’t think I managed to portray it as an actual physical fight with self, I thought it’d lead to a character fighting with voices instead of the real struggles. \n\nHow could I make it better?", "“So, Jonah. Tell me about your problems.” \n \nAnd from the skies inside Jonah’s mind, a light shone. It was harsh and fierce, and both armies recoiled from the glare they were suddenly subjected to. \n \nBeings made of pure light descended slowly, probingly, as the leaders came together to discuss this new phenomena. \n \nThe spindly black legs of the leader of the Army of Darkness scared the leader of the Pink Battalion, but they agreed: the light was a bigger threat. \n \nAnd so, the armies banded together, not for the first time and not for the last time, to expel this new unknown from their already occupied mindscape. \n \nThe Black Army, confident in the knowledge that the Pink Battalion wouldn’t be able to live without them (despite claims to the contrary), fought with unholy delight against the new threat, no, the new victims! \n \nThe Pink Battalion fought with a desperation of those who knew they were fighting a losing battle. The last hope was riding on so little… If only they could figure out what exactly it was riding on! They knew there were infinite chances to get rid of the Army in the Dark, but they had never been able to identify any. Perhaps this was the chance? \n \nThe Therapeutic Angels surveyed the situation as best as they could. Brightened to white, there was no difference between both the Army under the Bed’s monstrosities and the Pink Battalion’s desperate warriors. Their leader knew that this was the crucial stage. One mistake and the battle would be lost. \n \n“Jonah…” \n \nThe Pink Leader cried. He cried tears of relief. For the light was descending, and behind it, the blue sky was visible once more, beyond the mists that had always occupied it. \n \nIt was clear what had to be done. With a loud roar, he shifted his stance, and began butchering the Army behind the Smiles’ infernal soldiers. The Pink Battalion followed as one, daring to hope it might all be over soon. \n \nThe Dark Mother cried out in dismay, it’s scream demoralizing the Pinks nearby, as it was suddenly fighting a battle on two sides. Never before had the Army behind the Lies been pressed back so fiercely, so suddenly, and the Dark Father could not believe its eyes. \n \nAnd Jonah began to speak. ", "\"Come on, FIGHT ME!\" Will screamed at the other person in the blank room of his mind. \"Let's settle this, once and for all!\" \n\n\"Why fight? It only gets people hurt. Nobody likes hurting anyone. I'm not going to fight you,\" replied the mirror of Will. \n\n\"You need to fight! You need to do something! You need to do anything!\" Will screamed at himself, trying to glare into the cloudy eyes of his alternate self.\n\n\"I just need love and to be embraced, can you do that? Can I get a hug?\" he asked.\n\nRage emptied out of Wills veins as he took a deep breath. \"Of course. There's always room for love. Come here, and let's talk about it.\"\n\nWill walked over to the outstretched arms of himself, and gave himself a tight embrace. It was returned with the same vigor. A solid hug, arms clasped, a feeling of not being alone in this universe. Will relaxed his grip and started to speak, but the other just held on tight. He gave it a few more moments, and tried to break the embrace.\n\n\"No, not happening. Don't leave me.\"\n\nWill felt himself getting pushed down by the growing size of the other, until he fell backwards and started getting crushed. He screamed, flailed, begged and pleaded, but still couldn't get out from under his other self.\n\nDepression ended up smothering Will To Live.", "“Have you been well?” she asked me, knowing full well the answer. \n\n“I’ve had better days …” I answered hesitantly as a half-truth. “How have you been?” I was still just as excited to see her after so many weeks. \n\n“Mmm … alright. It’s been kind of lonely here for the last few days without you being around.” she said as she did a twirl in a new dress that I’ve never seen her in before. She examined her behind quickly after her twirl completed to make sure the dress was still an appropriate length ensuring the right amount of innocence and seduction were present. She smiled at me when she noticed me staring. \n\nThat smile got me every time. The way her happiness always danced in an aura around her as she flashed her teeth – her eyes forming half crescents when her cheeks elevated pushing her glasses slightly off her nose; slightly more gums showing than the average person because her lips couldn’t contain her exuberance. The moonlight wouldn’t have been able to outshine her smile. A twinge of vertigo paired with my next three consecutive heartbeats. \n\n“You’re in a better place now aren’t you? Someone who has more than I could ever dream of giving you. Someone who can give you everything you’ve wanted. Someone who can give you the world that I promised … why would you be lonely?” I asked, acknowledging my self-manufactured sense of defeat. \n\nShe stopped moving and turned her head in my direction. Her smiled disappeared only to turn into an insulting smirk married with a cocked eyebrow. \n\n“I am, I have anything at my disposal now. Clothes, vacations, food – everything is fantastic! I actually think I’m going to be going on vacation in South Korea for the first time next month. I heard the makeup there is top-notch, I’m going to buy as much of it as I can!” she exclaimed excitedly. She did a small hop as she pumped her fist in the air. God, she was so cute. \n\nFuck. Jealousy is one hell of a drug. More pangs of vertigo. This time more nebulous – I was unsure of whether it was heartache or excitement. I didn’t quite care anymore. At least my world had a bit of color now and I felt more alive than ever. \n\n“Why do you do this to me? Why do you torture me with details about how well off you are every time I come see you? Can’t we go back to how things used to be?” I asked with tears welling up in the corner of each eye. The world suddenly looked like I was staring through a stained-glass window pane. \n\nShe tilted her head to one side – something she always did when she was a bit confused. She pursed her lips together into a period and raised her eyebrows at me. \n\n“But … I didn’t come to see you, you came to see me.” she said, completely unaware of my mental anguish. \n\n“Yea … you’re right, you’re still as beautiful as I remembered. Sorry…” I said as I slumped against the wall. My shirt rode up behind me as my naked back felt the cold of the wall, and the slight scratching of the chipped paint pieces as I slid myself down slowly until my butt hit the floor. \n\nSeemingly accomplished, she giggled – the same giggle that gave me a purpose to wake up every morning and be the best man I could be; the same giggle now that belongs to somebody else. She did another one of her signature twirls and turned her back towards me. A shadowy male, also with his back towards me, phased in next to her. She happily looped her arm in his and they walked away slowly together. \n\nThe way her hair landed on her back while a few strands stayed up from the static electricity was so nostalgic. Her back looked so beautiful, as beautiful as ever – even as she walked away. \n\nCompletely crushed, I put my head against the wall – a bit harder than I had anticipated as it made a thud upon contact. I wondered if this will hurt in the morning. I looked up and closed my eyes. The tears felt like tiny streams of magma as they rolled down my boreal cheeks. This wasn’t a fight – not even close; this was emotional suicide. \n\nI'll probably see her again tomorrow night around the same time. I lightened my grip as I drifted into sleep. The bottle in my hand seemed to balance on its base as if it were on a knife’s edge. When it relented, it clanged onto the floor. A drop of whiskey that dripped out of the decanter’s mouth landed hit the ground and slowly soaked into the hardwood. \n\n \n\n\n", "\"I'm Steve the Entertainer. Thanks for coming to my show! Good night!\"\n\nThat's Steve, obviously. He has an insatiable lust for entertaining large crowds and living in the loud roar of claps and cheers he receives. He is outgoing, energetic, obnoxious, and believe it or not, mildly entertaining guy. Well, to most people. The majority of the time, I can't stand him. I can't stand him because of what he has done to Matt. Matt is my best friend and has been since the second grade. Matt and I have done just about everything together; try and get girls, see the latest movies, play the newest video games, you get the picture. We were always together. Well, until Steve showed up.\n\nSo let me clarify something, Matt suffers from dissociative identity disorder or multiple personalities. Thankfully for Matt, he only has one other personality, Steve. See Matt works in corporate America at a nine to five job sitting a computer all day smashing his keyboard religiously. This employment feeds Matt's personality well, an extremely dorky introvert that only has a handful of friends and a good time means hanging out at the house, drinking some craft beers, and playing Dungeon and Dragons. We bonded on the level of dorkiness we both loved. Matt is a simple man who's wants are limited by his loneliness. Steve, on the other hand, is the polar opposite. Steve \"suffers\" from A.D.D. and always wants to be the life of the party. If the attention is not on him, he will go out of his way to make sure it is redirected back on to him. This is a problem as Steve's attention to himself sometimes puts either Matt's health or civil freedom in jeopardy.\n\nThere have been several occasions where this has become a reality. Once Steve was attending a pool party and everyone was getting to the point where they were ready to leave as it was getting late. Steve took it upon himself to climb the house in an attempt to jump from the house to the pool. He came up several feet short and broke both legs. It took Matt many months to recover while Steve was on \"vacation\". Another time Steve was at a Cleveland Browns football game, where people are more interested in alcohol than in football itself. He felt as though people had lost interest in his presence, so he decided to streak across the football field naked until the linebacker speared him unconscious. He is banned from the stadium for life. Matt wanted help. He needed help.\n\nThis is where I fit in. My name is Dr. Kenneth Deitrick, I am Matt's therapist. Do you know what it's like being your best friend's therapist? So throughout several years of unusual consultation, all three of us came to an agreement. Matt has the days, Steve has the evenings. Also, there are to be no extreme stunts to be performed by either Matt or Steve. Same goes for anything illegal. For me, this is not a win, but when Steve is pressed, he becomes uncontrollable and erratic. So for the time being, this is a suitable compromise. This is a band-aid, a short-term solution for a long-term goal in mind. And, believe it or not, things went well for quite some time, that is until someone broke the rules.\n\nMatt switched his work schedule to be part-time. This allowed him time to do the things he wanted to do. We did his counseling during that time as well, during the day. Since I wasn't charging my best friend for my services, the switch made the most sense. During the evenings, Steve performed at least one show a night and his shows ran the gamut of usual to obscure. If he could do comedy or magic, those were his preferences. However, when he could not find a gig doing those activities, Steve was a little more creative. He was also a backup singer, was in plays, and became a fan of ballroom dancing. He even did a male review once. (I remember this because Matt came into my office and was covered in glitter and looked exhausted.) No matter the thrill, Steve made sure of his promise to follow the rules and was doing well until today.\n\nAt Matt's visit to my office today, he seemed a little off, like he was trying to hide something. I asked him what was wrong and he quickly blew it off. So I slid him a cup of coffee, we sat down and we continued to discuss our plan. Our plan, obviously, was how we were going to get rid of Steve so Matt could have his life back. \n\n\"So\", I stated before taking a sip of my coffee, \"did you go get the prescription filled?\"\n\n\"What prescription?\" Matt retorted looking around wildly until his eyes found his cup of coffee, taking a gulp of coffee, burning his tongue. He shuttered from the pain.\n\n\"What prescription? The only prescription Matt.\" I stated firmly while monitoring everything that is Matt. His presence was different.\n\n\"I know that,\" he offered, \"but what does it do again?\"\n\n\"It makes Steve go away for good\", I said.\n\n\"I will never go away!\" he yelled as he stood up, convulsing, seething with rage. His hand closed swiftly and shot searing hot coffee all over the office.\n\nSteve broke the rules.\n\nI try to reason with him, \"Steve, just calm down, let talk about this.\"\n\n\"I'm done talking, time to end this!\" he shouted back. Steve turns around and heads towards my desk and begins shuffling all the papers on it. He is searching for something. He pauses for a moment, then turns back towards me. He has my envelope opener and he places the tip of it in the first layer of skin by his temple. \n\n\"I'm going to kill Matt!\" he shouted as tears craw out of his eyes and scurry down his face. \"He never wanted me to be important. A somebody.\"\n\nHis face changed from a menacing fear to a subtle calm, \"Steve, it's Matt, I'm here. Don't hurt us. If you hurt me, it will hurt you too.\"\n\nCalm turned to sad. \"Why don't you like me Matt?\" he said, as he started to whimper. \"All I wanted to do is make you laugh, make sure you were having a good time.\"\n\nBack to calm. \"You do make me laugh, I'm your biggest fan, Steve!\"\n\n\"You are?\" Steve questioned as he slowly lowered the blade from his head.\n\n\"Absolutely! And we cannot do any more shows if we are dead, right?\" Matt said, calming Steve down.\n\n\"Right!\" Steve said, now matching Matt's level of calm. \"Are you coming to the show tonight?\"\n\n\"Of course! But only if you follow the rules. Are you going to follow the rules, Steve?\" \n\n\"Yes, I'm sorry. I need to go prepare for this evening. See you then.\"\n\n\"See you then!\" Matt said as the envelope opener dropped to the floor. Matt has fully regained himself.\n\nWithout saying a word, Matt and I got in my car, drove to the local pharmacy, and fill the prescription. Matt took it instantly.\n\nMatt and I are best friends, and we no longer talk about Steve. That is, unless, Matt breaks the rules...\n\n", "“Oh my gosh,” I sighed, flopping onto the bed, tired from my busy day at work. That was the great thing about my life, work. It keeps me focused, distracted, making sure I don’t sink to ‘it’s’ level. I closed my eyes, smelling my sheets of the faint soapy smell before opening my eyes and seeing the open field. It was cracked, dried, overcast clouds around, the tree on the hill with no leaves.\n\nI got up from where I was laying and saw the dark shape underneath the tree. It noticed me and got up from its sitting position. It didn’t walk the way a person would, more like phase shifted until it stood in front of me. Shadowy flames encased it but the face looked like mine.\n\n“Bad day, wasn’t it?” It started to circle me. I tried not to look at it.\n\n“Actually it wasn’t bad at all. I got my list done, I was able to fake a few smiles, and traffic was good.” I shrugged. Soon I felt the pain in my head as it grabbed my hair and made me bend down.\n\n“You’re lying and you’re getting good at it but don’t think those little white lies will get rid of me.” It let go of my head and I felt the warmth of the blood trickle from my temple down my chin. All I did was look straight ahead, never looking at it directly. “You think you can escape but you can’t. I am a part of you, something you can’t live without.”\n\n“Yeah sure, think all you want about that. The thing is I’m trying to move on. I’m getting therapy, I’m talking to the ones that hurt me, and I really am getting better!” I yelled but that was the wrong thing to say. It grabbed me by my collar and threw me over its shoulder. The ground roughly scraped against me as I bumped against the rough ground. The thing growled at me with its face in a scowl. It raised its fist at me but I stopped it with my hand.\n\n“You want this!?” It roared.\n\n“Bring it, bitch!” I shouted. We got into a fist fight, punch for punch, scratch for scratch, moving in an odd mirror image of ourselves. While each and every hit drew blood on me, my hits made it’s shadowy body deteriorate. I screamed, yelled, cried, while it seethed, roared, and whimpered.\n\nI did a low leg sweep, taking away its legs and it fell down. I straddled it and put my hand on my not-face. My tears stung at my face, my breathing labored, and the thing staring angrily at me.\n\n“I know, I get it, I brought this on myself because, no matter what, you’ll always be a part of me but I control you, not the other way around.” I got up and the thing had shrunk down. “Little by little, inch by inch, step by step, I’m taking control of my life. Soon, you’ll be nothing but a shadow parrot on my shoulder that I will be able to ignore. Maybe not now, maybe not soon, but it’s an eventuality that I will make sure will come to pass. I’m taking control of my life, so go away.”\n\n“You’ll regret this in your darkest times.” The shadow faded away.\n\n“I’ll deal with it but I’m not alone anymore,” I smiled, thinking of my supportive family, friends, the cat I hold dear. As the shadow faded, a small sapling appeared in the dry crust of the earth. I limped toward the tree that the shadow sat underneath. The hill was washed with light from the open sky, the tree beginning to bud, and the ground bright and green with yawning grass blades. I sat down against the tree. It was a start but a start was all I needed.", "“Ah, you want to fight!”\n&nbsp;\n\nShe stepped off her throne, giving her usual unmoving stare. I knew what she was thinking, we’re always thinking the same thing. Her grin was one of pure malice. \n&nbsp;\n\nThis would be my second battle with her. The first one was a surprise attack, one I was completely unprepared for. Her charges always masked by the night, when I was least cautious. She caused hellfire for everything I was. My only place of safety had now become a catastrophe of panic. Months this war raged on, her becoming more and more the victor. The days became a mesh of terror. She was so good at this I didn’t even know who my enemy was. \n&nbsp;\n\nPerhaps she took pity in fighting someone so young. Perhaps she simply got bored. The attacks rescinded, and became a distant memory. Was the temporary retreat of my unknowingly doing?\n&nbsp;\n\nWell, whatever I did then isn’t going to work now. Her first assault came as a surprise again. Why would I expect different? The tactics were more vicious than anything on this planet. She grabs her victims when they’re least inspecting it, paralyzing and suffering the victim until they’re nothing but a husk of themselves. Playing into fears is a sport. Her assaults are sharp pains, always there and looming. How to get rid of them? Bow to her every whim, no matter how ridiculous or unhelpful. Fight all you want, she’s knows how to defend. \n&nbsp;\n\nThis time though, I found my enemy. The primary source. She looks like it too, someone who only has intention to hurt and destruct. My sword was at its absolute peak, sharpened by the best swordsmiths of therapy and medicine. This will be the fatal blow. Just maybe, the world could become peace. What was peace?\n&nbsp;\n\nI charged with absolute fury. Her first attacks were laughable. Using the same thing over and over again can get quite boring. You tend to build up a resistance and cope to it. The next were the sharp stabs of knives. My hatred and fear were her favorite tools for making them. These ones seemed to be extra piercing, at least she was taking this seriously. The pain turns to numbness. It’s not painless numbness of course, but something a little better. I smirked to just how easy this would be. \n&nbsp;\n\nI went straight for the head. That’s how she does all this, that’s the only thing to attack. I felt deep satisfaction seeing the blood slowly drip from her skull. Only, mine was too. I was so confused. The gash has become mirrored. I screamed in agony. This was supposed to get her, not me! Why are you attacking me?! I got her! I win! Let me have this! She slowly pulled out the sword, laughing. I didn't even make a dent. She had won once more. \n&nbsp;\n\n“Don’t you understand, little boy?” she cackled, “I’m too far in, how can you kill what you are?”\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd she was right. I dropped the sword and cried. Not my usual cry after I lose to her, trying to repair the damage. I bellowed one of completely helplessness. It was silent, no matter how loud I made it. She laughed at my face and crowned herself the winner. My punishment was to be trapped, forever. \n\n&nbsp;\n\n--Sorry for any spelling mistakes, late at night and sort of lost it writing this. Hope you enjoy.--\n", "\"Day 7. It shows no sign of giving up anytime soon. It feeds on absolutely everything. I don't know how much longer I can go. I've tried poisoning, shocking, even burning It out, but It always grows back. No one else is of any help; I'm sure they don't have to go through this.\n\nDay 19. It's still here. It's like that cliche about always having a rain cloud about you, but it's much darker and I can almost feel the lightning. \n\nDay 24. I've tried carving It out but all it's done is make a mess. I've been getting weird looks from people when they see the marks. I've tried wearing long sleeves but sometimes they ride up. I see a Girl on the train. She sees the marks, but she doesn't give me that same weird look. Her eyes, rather, full of understanding. I can't feel It in that moment.\n\nDay 32. They finally wanted me to get doctors involved. My little sister was the one to tell them. We'll see if these pills do anything. I'm doubtful, but I've tried everything else.\n\nDay 44. These meds aren't bad. I've been noticing a lot more recently. I actually watched the sunrise, as corny as that is. I think I can feel It shrinking.\n\nDay 51. I saw that same Girl on the train today. She smiled. I noticed some marks on her too. She waved as she got off. I don't know what came over me, but I ran right after her, forcing the doors open. We're going to get a cup of coffee soon.\n\nDay 63. My therapist recommended I join a group program. It's not too horrible. The marks are fading. \n\nDay 68. It was the best cup of coffee I've ever had. Her name is Anna.\"", "\"You're weak.\"\n\nShe rose before me, slender and beautiful, blonde hair cascading over her shoulders and curling at her waist. She moved with the grace of a lion stalking its prey. The cruel smirk she wore told me I was her prey.\n\n\"You can't do anything right,\" she said, her voice cutting my like swords. As I thought it, a swirl of light and glitter produced a long, thin blade in her hand, and she raised it, admiring it. \"You never could. For as long as I could remember, you've always been weak.\"\n\nI couldn't even argue with her. She was right. Every time I tried to do better, I failed. I fell back. Every attempt was met with failure more devastating than the time before it. I hugged my arms to myself, as though it would shield me from her truths.\n\n\"Look at you, standing there. You fat piece of shit. You always have been. You always say, 'This time will be different.'\" She sneered, hatred darkening her face. \"'I'll really do it this time. I'll jog. I'll eat healthy. I won't give in.'\" The mean girl laughed, throwing her head back, her shoulders heaving. \"What a fucking joke.\"\n\nI grit my teeth. It was all true. How long had I been \"dieting\" on and off? Years? Over a decade? How many times have I found myself-\n\n\"Overeating, then heaving into the toilet to get it out, to start again. 'It will be different this time.'\" She walked closer to me, pointing the sword at my chest. \"It's never different.\"\n\nShe was right.\n\nIt's never different.\n\n\"I'll never be you,\" I admitted, holding back tears. \"It'll never happen anyway.\"\n\nI looked at the remainder of pizza on the coffee table, the movie blaring in the background. I sighed, and reached over my bulging stomach, taking another slice.", "\"Hello. It's been a while.\"\n\nPanic cut me all the way through. That voice. That feigned friendliness. That irresistible draw.\n\nShe was back. \n\n\"What the fuck do you want?\"\n\nMy words came out in spite of me, dripping black with venom, the tip of my tongue stained dark with its malice. \n\nShe smiled. \n\n\"I want the same thing I came for last time. I want you to come with me.\"\n\nI thought back to the last time she was here. I didn't know any better that time. She lured me in with promises of belonging, of rest, of simplicity. Each time she pulled me closer, I slipped further and further from my friends and my family. The color in the world faded. My eyes lost their light.\n\n\"I don't want to go with you. I don't want anything to do with you. Can't you see? I'm happy.\"\n\nI was happy, mostly. I had the color back. There were mottled spots here and there, reminders of the pain I went through, the life I nearly lost. But my eyes had their light again. At least I could see the color. \n\nShe took a step forward.\n\n\"You're happy? With them? This world that leaves you behind, this world that refuses to let you belong? How can you be happy there?\"\n\nShe took another step forward, the ink dripping from her calves in sloppy dark drops, staining the floor. Staining my mind.\n\n\"I am happy. I have friends. And I'm doing well at work. I just got a promotion! And I'm dating someone wonderful...\"\n\nI looked away for a moment. I couldn't stand the way she looked at me. Those eyes. Mesmerizing. Like pools I could sink into. Drown into. \n\nFuck…no. Stop it. \n\nShe stopped her march for a moment. \n\n\"Oh? You are? And they love you, do they? They love you as much as you love them? Or even better…they love you in spite of how much you love them?\"\n\nAs she spoke, I couldn't help but look at her. Her voice was soft, yet her words cut me like razors. The delicate roundness of her syllables wound their way close enough that the pointed edges of the message they carried buffeted me with scrapes and cuts, leaving me bloodied. Little black marks all over my body.\n\nI took a step back.\n\n\"Yes, they love me. My family, my friends--they care about me. Last time, do you know what they said?\"\n\nShe took three long strides and was on me before I could react. Her fingers reached out to either side of my face, cupping my cheeks and my neck in her hands, running silky smooth traces around my ears and through my hair. I could feel the ink running down the sides of my face, dropping in splattered wells at my feet, splashing onto my ankles. Her hands and the darkness felt both cold and warm at the same time, like a blanket wrapped around you in the dead of winter, the only haven in a frigid world. \n\n\"Please,\" she cooed. \"You don't have to make up lies. You don't have to believe what they say when they're only saying it because they feel bad for you.\"\n\nThe difference between the black of the ink and the varied diorama of the rest of my mind was becoming less and less pronounced. I could feel the ink rising up past my neck. Reaching up to my throat. My ears. My eyes.\n\n\"They told me…\" \n\nHer gripped tightened, and a deep, black smile spread across her face while she bared razor-sharp fangs and void-black eyes. \n\n\"They told me I don't have to fight alone.\"\n\nSuddenly, in every corner of my mind, human shapes began to manifest of their own accord. My mother, my father, my brothers and sisters. The grandmother on my father's side who let me sleep on her fold out sofa and watched classic Gene Kelly movies with me when I was sick. The uncle on my mother's side who helped me get my job, who believed me when I said all I needed was a chance. The cousins who came to visit out of nowhere and just spent time with me, walking and talking and helping make sense of things. \n\nAll of them, flooding my mind, bringing noise and scent and warmth. Bringing color. Bringing so much color that I couldn't see. \n\nShe turned and looked around, and I could feel the fear in her eyes as she eased her grasp on me. She snapped back to me and stared at me in horror. Her eyes were blue. Her hair was brown.\n\n\"You won't have them forever, you know.\"\n\nAnd she disappeared, smoke vanishing through a straw.\n\n\"Probably not.\"\n\nI collapsed in a heap, tears welling up while I looked around.\n\n\"But I have them right now, and that's enough.\"" ]	13

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