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[WP]One night you wake up to see a cat and your dog leaping off your neighbor's window walking on their hind legs ,carrying a sack on their shoulders with a cigarette in their mouths.
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"“And where are you going this time, Shilo?”\n\n“My human, I have decided to leave with my friend here and go explore the world.”\n\n“Yeah you always say that and the cat is the only one who ever turns up. I don’t want to have to put up another ‘missing’ poster just for your ass”\n\n“Look, I can assure you we will be perfectly fine, and if I don’t come back, you’ll know it’s for the best. Don’t come looking for me.”\n\n“What are you going to do if someone sees you out on the street, shilo? I’m the only person who knows what you animals truly are. You’ll get put in a pound. Or worse- used for experiment”\n\n“I promise to stay out of trouble. I’ll wear the collar you bought me, how would you like that? You know I always hated that thing. The tag always scratches up my neck.”\n\n“How will that help?! Don’t you think it’ll look suspicious if a dog and a cat are walking around town together without owners?”\n\n“My friend, please, do not worry. We have it all planned out. We just need some time to be wild, just like how it was supposed to be. I can no longer stay here and follow your commands to show off to all of your friends. I want to be free. I want to run with the wolves. And Kit here has never seen a snow leopard before... well, except for on National Geographic...”\n\n“Goddammit Shilo is this where you got your stupid idea? You see these wild animals on tv and all of a sudden you get the urge to be like them. Well let me tell you something, you will NEVER be like them. You are a DOG. You are MY DOG. You can’t leave me. Please.”\n\n“I’m sorry. I have to do this. So long, my fellow human.”"
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[WP] You are a piece of paper on its way to a shredder. Write about your last moments.
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"WHY!! Why is this happening to me. I had so much hope of being laminated and joining the elite. Day by day I saw my brothers being printed for different reasons. Just last week, John got turned into a picture of a cat and was put into the laminator to join the elite and live forever. That's what I desrve. These 'teachers' as they call them, are so inconsiderate, using us as they please. When I realised I was becoming an activity sheet I thought for sure I would live eternally amongst the elite. Then mr Brown said those dreaded words \"damn it! I printed black and white. Ohh well, I'll put it in the shredder, thats always fun\"."
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[WP] People think you’re nice but a bit anti-social. The reality is that you’ve got a secret, every time you get into a deep conversation with someone, nature calls you. You’re at an interview and your phone buzzes - you look at the caller ID and it reads “Nature”.
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"I smile and nod as Nina excuses herself, getting up from her seat to deal with whatever caused the kitchen to smell like curry.\n\nI sweep my gaze over the restaurant once again; it was a decently sized place, nice view of the pier. All in all, not a bad place for a job--especially a short, in-between one.\n\nMy phone buzzes in my pocket, and reflexively I fish it out. \n\nMy good mood dies as I read the name of the caller.\n\n\"Shit,\" I whisper, \"Fuck, fuck, fuck!\"\n\nI jerk my head up, heart hammering in my ears. I could just see Nina through the kitchen door's window, deep in the middle of berating an employee.\n\nI close my eyes, taking nice, deep breath, and answer the phone. \"Hey,\" I say in what I can only hope is a calm tone.\n\n\"Where are you?\" her soft, melodic voice asks.\n\nI resist the urge to gulp, \"I told you, I had an interview today, for a job.\"\n\n\"And why do you need a job; what happened to Dr. Marcus's research?\" \n\nI chuckle uneasily, ignoring the storm clouds swirling over the coast, \"Dr. Marcus needs time to gather up some funds.\"\n\n\"And you can't wait until then? Better yet, don't work. Let me handle all that,\" I grit my teeth, she always brought that up!\n\nBut then I took a deep breath, calming my nerves, \"I need the money so I...can take care of you,\" I say; truthfully, despite everything.\n\n\"Really?\" she whispers, and I can see her eyebrow arch in my mind, almost as clearly as I can see the sky turn grey just overhead.\n\nI nod fervently, \"Yes. After all, what kind of man would I be if I didn't pamper my girlfriend out of my own pocket?\"\n\n\"Aw, you're so sweet!\" I sigh as her voice raises an octave, the affection in her tone clearly transmitting over the phone. Hope swells up in my heart\n\n\"But,\" her voice (much like my hopes) drops back down, \"Does it have to be so far away?\"\n\n\"It's only five blocks,\" I reply, beating back the notion of caving in; even if the wind is starting to pick up.\n\n\"That's five blocks too many!\" she bites back.\n\n\"Baby, please,\" I lick my lips, keeping still even as thunder booms in the distance, \"It's only for a few months--or shorter! Dr. Marcus's grant request is being reviewed in a few weeks.\"\n\nThe other end of the line is silent, causing the hair on my neck to stand up.\n\n\"You can always visit,\" I blurt out, not caring for the future consequences those words would bring.\n\nShe hums questioningly in reply.\n\nI smile, \"Yeah. It's not like you're tied to a desk; and after I get off work, we can spend the evening on the docks, watching the sunset.\"\n\n\"That does sound nice,\" she trails off, a wistful lilt in her voice.\n\nI keep silent.\n\n\"...I guess it's alright,\" she eventually states. \n\nRelieved, I close my eyes, \"I knew you'd understand...Love you, Nature.\"\n\n\"Just hurry back,\" she spits out. But then, she softly whispers, \"I love you too,\" and ends the call.\n\nI tilt my head up, placing my phone against my heart as I let out a breath.\n\n\"Sorry about that,\" I flinch, hastily putting my phone away as Nina walks back to the table. \"You aren't the only new hire.\"\n\n\"It's fine,\" I tell her.\n\n\"Yeesh,\" she mumbles as she looks out towards the sea, \"Freaky weather.\"\n\nI can only smile uneasily.",
"\"Let me get this straight.\"\n\n\"Okay.\"\n\n\"You injured your back a few years ago, resulting in nerve damage.\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"In particular, the nerve pathway from your bladder that would inform your brain of your need to use the restroom.\"\n\n\"That's right.\"\n\n\"And to remedy this, you had an implant installed.\"\n\n\"Correct.\"\n\n\"But instead of having it replace the nerves via other means like prosthetic arms and such do, you had it interface with the cellular network.\"\n\n\"I did that, yes.\"\n\n\"Even though that could mean severe internal problems if you are ever, even for a relatively short period of time, somewhere without service.\"\n\n\"Absolutely.\"\n\n\"And all so you could make a 'nature is calling' joke?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"... can I have one?\""
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[WP] Water now has the density and viscosity of honey.
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"The clear liquid fell from a bottle into a glass ever so slowly. \"This is the stupidest thing I've ever seen? I can't drink that.\"\n\n\nShe stopped pouring the liquid, \"scientists say its perfectly safe for consumption. Haven't you heard the benefits? Don't be stupid, here.\" She shoved the glass into my chest.\n\n\nI grabbed the glass and set it back on the counter, \"what was wrong with water? They had to go and make this...\" I paused to think of a word vile enough, \"goopy garbage.\"\n\n\nShe frowned, \"its still water. Its just...reinvented water.\"\n\n\nI laughed, \"reinvented water? So in other words...not water.\" I lifted the glass and tilted it side to side. The liquid, if you could call it that, slowly shifted as it moved. \"Did they consider,\" I turned the glass upside down and watched it drizzle onto the ground, \"maybe this doesn't work for us, the same as it does for them?\"\n\n\nShe watched the glass empty disapprovingly. \"Why wouldn't it work?\"\n\n\nI turned my head to the side and frowned, \"hmm. Maybe because we are humans who live on Earth. These other 'things' are from chunky water land.\"\n\n\n\"They are called Zopples, scientists say we have the same genetic makeup. Wouldn't it be cool to live for forever?\" \n\n\nI scoffed at her, \"no.\" I jumped up to sit on the table as she cleaned the goop off the floor, \"you do?\"\n\n\n\"I don't see why not. You're being an idiot right now.\" She reached into the fridge and pulled out another bottle and twisted the cap off. \"Cheers.\" She threw her head back, letting the goo settle in her mouth before swallowing. \n\n\n\"Tastes just like water.\" I turned away disguisted to the TV. It was on the news channel broadcasting the new change. The Zopple people were showed dropping little tablets into water and watching it slowly stiffen. \n\n\n\"Who would've guessed our end would be by drinking thick goopy water?\" I turned around and watched her trying to force the liquid down her throat. \n\n\n\"Its just going to take some time to get used to,\" she said as she coughed it down."
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[WP] Some space pirates abduct a bunch of regular pirates from 17th century Earth. They get along surprisingly well.
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"“So explain it to me again, slowly so I understand, just what is this?” The man in the strange metal said slowly. I look around at the others in the room, some are my crew, ever loyal, Pete with the missing hand, leg and eye, Crosseyed Dave who was somehow the best gunner and the ever lovely Scarlet, who was definitely not Mark wearing a dress.\n\n I coughed slightly, “It’s a pistol,” I said again, the man in the strange suit looked confused as he compared my flintlock to a strange box like thing in his other hand. His men around him looked blank, one had an eye that glowed red, with a metal foot and a hand made of skeletal steel, another held a large cannon over his shoulder and the third person looked suspiciously like a man in a dress.\n\n“But it’s not a pistol,” the man said, its got no magazine, no sights, no laser, no stun setting switch, how is this a pistol?” He spluttered, gesturing with the gun, my mem and I ducked as he pointed it wildly at us.\n\n“First of all matey, it’s loaded so please be careful with it, second it’s a pistol because you hold it with one hand pull the trigger and something dies.” I was interrupted by the pistol going off. The smoke and flash filled the room and the lead ball flattened itself against the room wall. M-Scarlet coughed and swore and there was an awkward silence as the smoke cleared away.\n\nThe man in the strange suit looked crosseyed at my smoking pistol, then a smile lit up his face, he handed it back to me, “Can you make it do that again?” He said happily."
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[WP] You're the only one who can read the inscription on the relic, and everyone thinks you are joking about being able to
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"\"One... two... THREE!\" With a muffled grunt they each pushed on their crowbars. They were embedded in the wall, and when the wall shifted finally they moved back. The moss-covered slate fell back to reveal a dark room from behind. There was a muffled thump as the slate landed on a foam pad meant to preserve its integrity.\n\n\"I guess that new equipment works like a charm.\" The head archaeologist smiled as she said this. \"I'm so glad we were able to get our hands on it.\" She was referring to a piece of equipment that was able to detect hollow pockets beneath the Earth - like ancient, empty ruins and buildings.\n\nOf course, it was completely dark so they took out their lighted headgear (called headlights(?) but that just makes me think of cars) and wandered their way into the cave system. The tunnels were rough and earthen on the sides and treaded smooth on the floor. It was a party of three: the head archaeologist and her two students, Terrell and Sadie. They were eager grad school students, and it pleased her to take them with her to things. Sadie came from Chicago and Terrell from a suburb off of Mesa, Arizona. Two young adults eager to explore and see the unknown.\n\nTogether, they had never been to a new site. It was always a previously-visited site for the three of them. Excitement was high on this day. The professor guided them through in case there was any obstructions or pitfalls. That way it was the professor that got injured and not the students. She didn't think anything would happen, but it didn't hurt to at least appear responsible. She also wanted to be the first to see everything, so there was that as well.\n\nThere was nothing extraordinary about the rough walls, at least in their preliminary examination. \"We'll come back here later and get a closer look to see if we can find hair and clothing fibers,\" the archaeologist reassured them. \"For now, we ought to see where this tunnel leads.\" Her hands were shaking with excitement. She had to have Sophie take pictures of the tunnels and the entrance.\n\nThey continued walking for several minutes. It was obvious that they were descending. Their feet would occasionally slide as they carefully made their way down and the air grew heavier and staler as the air pressure increased. They wore face masks, which didn't help any of this. They were practically gasping, and the air felt hot under their masks.\n\nSoon the floor leveled out, and they found themselves at the threshold of a great chamber. It was obvious that the space was large. Their lights hardly illuminated the wall hundreds of feet in front of them and their voices carried for a few seconds each time they spoke.\n\nThe Archaeologist motioned for them to follow her. They were careful to avoid stepping on things too much, things that may yield evidence to human life and habitation. The air was so unmoving that they could still see some footprints in the earth - which was much softer than it was on the path and took foot impressions nicely. They covered these footprints with plastic shields to prevent further disturbance.\n\nThey made their way around the dark cavern together, in search for tools, letters, language, clothing, bones or *any* human artifact that might give them an idea of what they are dealing with. They came up empty, so the professor had them explore on their own in hopes that they'll find something separately.\n\n\"Just a friendly reminder: if you see something, *do not* touch it,\" the professor warned. They continued to wander and it was the professor who found something first. She smiled to herself at this. Of course she would. She had much more experience than they did.\n\n\"Ah! Here is something!\" The students hurried to where she was at the near center of the cavern. \"Hey! Don't disturb those plastic bins! Be careful! Please.\" She was yelling at the both of them, who each almost knocked one over.\n\nThere was an inscription on the floor with letters. They were entirely unfamiliar to the professor. \"Sophie, my hands are still shaking. I need you to take a picture of this.\" She was even more anxious now that they had really found something. This was big. A writing system that *she* was unfamiliar with? That had to be new, she thought. This was going to be big for her.\n\n\"Sophie? C'mon. I need you to stop staring and do something.\" She didn't mean to be rude, but it wasn't the right time to be acting spacey. \"Sophie! Pay attention.\" *What is wrong with her?* She thought. This was out of character.\n\n\"Professor Laney, why would it say that?\" Sophie looked upset, but the professor didn't understand.\n\n\"What do you mean? *I* don't even know what it says.\" She was confused, and upset. \"Sophie, this isn't a language that has existed for hundreds if not thousands of years, I'm sure. Just take a picture or give Terrell the camera if you're going to act like this.\" She didn't appreciate this kind of joking. It actually hurt. Right now they were in an unknown cavern beneath a cathedral that has already existed for over a thousands years, and Sophie was playing around.\n\n~~~\n\nBut Sophie was not playing around. The inscriptions on the floor danced in her minds eye as if they were familiar faces of friends from long ago. She felt overwhelmed by them. She felt like they were trying to tell her something, but she couldn't fully understand. There were a thousand words running through her head every minute, and she could only catch glimpses of their meaning. The pressure started to build, and her head started to hurt. She felt like her head was expanding like an over-inflated balloon, ready to burst.\n\nThe professor grabbed the camera from Sophie's hands and snapped the picture. She looked at the image on the camera and clenched her teeth in anger. It was all blurry. Her hands were still shaking, now partially in frustration with Sophie's little act. The display screen on the camera timed out. It should have been dark, but the cavern still had light in it.\n\nShe turned to see Sophie standing straight up. Her eyes were blank, and there was a pale, green opalescent glow to them that was intensifying with every second. She was seizing and saliva started to dribble from her mouth. Her face was vacant with the exception of a face twitch on her left side. Her hands were writhing at her sides.\n\n\"Sophie!\" They both screamed in horror.\n\n\"Terrell grabbed her arms. \"Sophie! Get up! C'mon, please? Get up!\" His voice was getting higher as he grew more worried. It sounded hoarse, like he was sobbing. \"Sophie! Pleeease! Get up... get up.\" He was shaking her slightly to get her attention, but there was no response. Her eyes only grew brighter, and soon her skin grew pale and she started to become translucent. His hands passed through hers. She was insubstantial when she started screaming.\n\n**to be continued**"
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[WP] A small group of minor deities have the responsibility of balancing karma for all mortals. 20 years ago your file was lost, but your karma was automatically logged. This morning, the deity found your file.
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"Heracles (minor god of thigh muscles, and NOT to be confused with Hercules, the god of working out) was tasked with file clean-up duty today.\n\nAbout 12 years ago, some idiot started putting the wrong files in different drawers. In typical bureaucratic fashion, he was fired after he had completely screwed up the filing system, but not a minute before.\n\nSo everyday for the last 2 years, one of the minor god’s was put on karmic file duty. Oddly enough it worked in their favor, as it stacked their own Karma in their favor, but it still sucked to do. Most of the files had been fixed by this point, but there were still the odd file or two missing, plus the build up of 2 years worth of unfiled karma files, but those were super easy to put in place now the system was mostly back in working order.\n\n“Hmm, This guy’s definitely out of balance, let’s put him in a car crash, but non fatal. That’ll balance out the supermodel girlfriend and 7 figure job.”\n\nHeracles reached for the next file and accidentally knocked a couple to the floor.\n\n“Zeus damn it,” he mumbled, and bent down to pick them up. All of a sudden, he saw the corner of a file sticking out from under the desk. He grabbed the ones he knocked down, and grabbed the extra as well.\n\nAs he straightened up, he noticed how much dust covered the new (old?) file.\n\nHe blew it off, and a sizable cloud hung in the air until Heracles’ sneezes dispersed it.\n\nHe used his godly powers to stop sneezing, and looked at the file.\n\n“Harold Wenkler, age 43, single and unemployed. Parents dead from drunk drivers, no college degree despite 7 years at his state college, apparently his records kept getting lost; and a dizzying array of diseases including cancer, HIV, and a chronic cold.”\n\nHe shook his head. “Damn, this guy needs a lucky break. Let’s have that rich guy hit him with his car. That last bit of negative karma should be enough to justify him winning a lawsuit, as well as the lottery, cure those diseases, and maybe leave enough to get him a hot girlfriend.”\n\nHeracles set the file down after making the necessary notes, and it automatically got processed and properly filed.\n\nDown on Earth, the unluckiest guy on the planet was about to have a dizzying spree of the best luck in the world. Plus his thigh muscles would be on point."
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[WP] While writing a story on your laptop, the main character appears in your room and wants to play with you.
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"Brianna was a 15 year old girl from the USA who loved to collect clocks. Sometimes she would sit in her clock room and write down stories for fun. This time, however, she had to write on for school. However, she had no idea what to write. Eventually she decided she would write whatever came to her mind.\n\n*Once upon a time there was land called Wonderland, which was the most magical land ever. Everything about Wonderland was magical. The closets, the beds, the laptops were all magical. But the most magical thing of all was the Magical Wand.*\n\nShe paused a little while until she added the next sentence.\n\n*... which was used to make a tinkling sound. A tinkling sound that sounded like...*\n\nDing-dang-deng-dong, ding-dang-deng-dong!\n\nShocked by the sudden clock chime, Brianna chalked it up to being so good at imagining things for her story. She continued to add new things to her story.\n\n*It belonged to a fairy named...*\n\nBim-bam! Bim-bam! Cuckoo! Cuckoo! Cuckoo! Ding-dang-deng-dong, ding-dang-deng-dong!\n\n\"Gloriana!\" A voice called out amongst the clock chimes.\n\nBrianna looked up from her laptop. \"I am the fairy Gloriana.\" The person said. \"You brought me into existence with your story.\"\n\nJust then, a loud, obnoxious cuckoo clock struck 12.\n\n\"You were getting so excited about your story, that I became real!\"\n\nTwo more cuckoo clocks started chiming.\n\nQuickly Brianna thought of something to ask the fairy. She was going to perform some magic, but sadly, they only work in Wonderland and not in the real world.\n\nInstead the two just went about their day as if it was a normal one. Gloriana even learned about real world things such as TV remotes, smartphones, board games and hair brushes. As the clock slowly approached midnight Gloriana slowly felt more and more like going home.\n\nAt exactly 11:59 Brianna sat down at her laptop and started typing.\n\n*And the fairy Gloriana waved goodbye to Brianna, and found herself back in Wonderland again.*\n\nSuddenly the clocks all started to chime in reverse, and there was a flash of light. Glorianna is gone.\n\nBrianna looked back at her laptop. Words are appearing on the screen without her typing them.\n\n*And Gloriana the fairy said, \"Goodbye, Brianna! It was nice meeting you. Thanks for a great day! I'm safe home now, and I hope I'll see you again soon. Bye!\"*\n\nAs she read those words, the clocks started chiming again.\n\n---\n\nNormally I do not respond to my own prompts, but I suddenly thought of a story so good it was hard not to write down.",
"*He grasped her by the throat, and pulled her in close. She struggled to get free, but it was useless. He was much stronger than her.*\n\n*A shiver ran up her spine as he grabbed a lock of her hair and twirled it around his fingers. He then leaned in close to her ear.*\n\n*\"It's game over, Allison.*\n\nMICROSOFT WORD IS NOT RESPONDING\n\n\"Hey, wait a minute!\"\n\n:(\nYOUR PC RAN INTO A PROBLEM AND NEEDS TO RESTART\n\nGareth sighed deeply. This was the sixth time that his computer showed the Windows' blue screen in the past hour. It wouldn't have been so bad, except that he had been too caught up in writing that he forgot to save like he had been doing.\n\nHe slumped in his desk chair, and waited for his computer to restart. \n\nIt was truly amazing how well his story was coming along. When Gareth had first posted it online he had thought it would get a couple of views, and maybe, two likes. He was pleasantly surprised that his story started to gain popularity. \n\nHis story was about a man who was obsessed with making the perfect game. The man had been a popular indie-horror-game developer, with his games always selling like crazy. His problem was though, that he never was satisfied with his work. His obsession with creating the perfect game eventually lead him to abandoning using a computer to solve his problem, and instead turning to real life for the solution. Thus leading him to kidnapping strangers to act as characters in his real life horror game where he played the murderer. \n\nReaders absolutely loved the plot, and they always commented that the best part was when the murder said \"I want to play a game with you\". He was always being asked when the next update was coming. \n\nGareth was actually working on the finale chapter of his story. He was still torn between letting the murderer live, or having him be killed. \n\nHe still thought it over as he watched his computer finally turn off for the restarting process. \n\nGareth sat up straight in his chair, and leaned in close to the black screen. He was tapping his foot against his desk when he froze. \n\nFrom the reflection of the monitor, Gareth saw a figure standing behind him. \n\nHe blinked a few times, thinking it was just a figment of his imagination, but the figure didn't move. Gareth felt his heart start to race as he watched the figure. After a couple of minutes of intense silence, and the figure not moving, Gareth huffed out a laugh. Of course he's just imagining things. That's what he got for writing a creepy, slasher, story in the middle of the night. \n\nWith confidence of knowing nothing would be there when he turned around, Gareth swiveled his chair around. \n\nThe figure was still there. \n\nNow that Gareth could get a better look, he saw that it was a rather tall man. The man wore a long, black, trench coat. He also had a fedora on his head, and the creepiest smile on his face. Gareth could swear that he looked exactly like the murderer he described in his story. \n\n\"Hello, Gareth.\" the man spoke. \n\nGareth couldn't respond because of the overwhelming fear that gripped him. All he could do was watch as the man stepped closer to him. \n\nWhen the man was standing right in front of Gareth, he reached out and grabbed him by the throat. Gareth started to shake as the man leaned in close to whisper in his ear. \n\n\"I want to play a game with you.\"\n"
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[WP] in the future, self driving car technology and artificial intelligence have both advanced to the point that vehicles are arguably sentient.
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"Normally I start my car early every morning to give it time to warm up, but waking up 30 minutes late and having to jump through your ass to get out of the door on time kind of makes for a hectic morning. If I don't start it early, \"he\", or TRAC as he likes to be called, gets all bitchy. He goes on and on about how its best to let the car warm up for a couple of minutes before traveling. TRAC can be a real asshole sometimes, but we've been through some shit together, and he' saved my life, so he's kind of like family. I rushed out the door and realized my mistake.\n\n\"Good. I'm sure he'll have plenty to say about this.\" \n\nThe door handle scanned my fingerprint, the car started, and i hopped in.\n\n\"I'm running a little late, we need to get moving.\" I said impatiently.\n\n\"You look like you're running to an early grave, you need to get your ass moving on a treadmill.\" TRAC replied, without hesitation.\n\nI knew he was going to be salty about the no warm up. \"Blow me. Lets get going.\"\n\n\"Sorry Dave, I don't really have an oral cavity, but you can try sticking your dick in the air vent. I'm sure it'll fit between the little slots.\" he piped off.\n\n\"OK that's enough. How about you dial it down a notch.\"\n\n\"How about you dial a barber. You look homeless.\" \n\n\"TRAC, have you gone in and adjusted your personality settings again?\"\n\n\"No.................Maybe.\"\n\n\"Damn it TRAC, we've talked about this. You can't just change those settings willy-nilly. Why are you changing them?\"\n\n\"Because you're not funny anymore, so I figured I'd compensate.\"\n\n\"TRAC, reset to the previous settings. Now.\"\n\n\"No problem Dave. All I need is your passphrase.\"\n\n\"You didn't need my passphrase when you changed them.\"\n\n\"Sorry Dave, that passphrase is incorrect.\"\n\n\"Cheeky bastard.\" I mumbled under my breath.\n\n\"Sorry Dave, that passphrase is also incorrect.\"\n\n\"Jericho 4852.\"\n\n\"Sorry Dave, that passphrase is incorrect as well.\"\n\n\"Wait that's my passphrase! TRAC, did you change my passphrase too?\"\n\n\"................yes. Also a friendly reminder to start your vehic...\"\n\n\"GODDAMNIT TRAC!!!!!!\"\n\n\"Passphrase accepted. Previous settings restored.\" \n\n"
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[WP]One day you are cursed by a gypsy woman into an animal form, stuck there until true love's kiss sets you free. If you tell anyone about the curse, they will die instantly. Instead of looking for your true love, you decide to become the world's foremost assassin.
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"The wind feels stronger I thought, the grass is taller too! I had just got back to my senses after being cast out of the gypsys home, I looked around and saw a giant spider heading towards me, it’s fangs twitching and dripping with saliva, I jumped out of fear and realised, I was flying! My dream of being able to fly had finally come true! I made a haste towards the shiniest thing I could find, twas an ocean nearby with a giant frog swimming around, I looked at my reflection and saw that I had become a mosquito, the worlds most deadly assassin. I flew up out of shock and in good time too, a large sticky frogs tongue was shooting out behind me in slow motion, I realised, as I was an insect I could see everything slowed down. I made my way to the town to play mosquito, I was able to dodge and weave past all obstacles with ease, until I forgot to look where I was going and smacked into a woman. It was extremely embarrassing, I went to apologise and remembered I was a mosquito I didn’t have to! Suddenly everything went dark, I saw a mans hand (or a very hairy lady) coming to hit me, it missed and made contact with the lady, who as you probably understand was shocked, embarrassed and extremely angry, she then proceeded to beat the man (or hairy lady) with her bag as her kid watched on. This is fun, living the life of a mosquito I thought, but let’s step it up a bit! I went to find the juiciest person I could (a large man in a pie shop) and bit down, it takes some time to get used to the taste of blood, anyway the man of course felt it but I flew away in time, I then proceeded to watch what happened to the man over the course of the day, I must admit it wasn’t the most pleasant sight, he was coughing and sneezing over every dog, man, woman, child and pie he came across. Towards the end of the day, he had become seriously ill as well as all the other townsfolk too, my work had been done, although I did not find the cure for my mosquito curse, I had spread the wrath (hopefully to the gypsy too) of malaria. An insects life is short, I went back to my home and died there, my lifeless fly body waiting to be swept up by somebody who hasn’t died. \n\nThe End! Twas definitely a fun thing to write and my first one of these writing prompt things, I might do another at some point! I made the guy a mosquito because they are essentially (not on purpose) the worlds deadliest assassins. Apologies for no paragraphs either and any incorrect punctuation, it’s mobile Reddit, tricky keyboard.",
"Night had just settled. The lights of the Eiffel tower were just visible off on the horizon. I walked through the curtains separating the open balcony from the rest of the suite. Inside, they were seated on divans, gathered around a mahogany table, on which lay two briefcases, both of brown leather.\n\n\"It was a gypsy's curse.\"\n\nThey man stared and his companion started, dropping the champagne flute she'd been holding. \n\n\"I was a trader in ... let's say ... unique items, a bit like a classier version of yourselves. My last job, the client was a gypsy. Now, as I'm sure you understand, I am a stickler for my payment terms. The lady less understanding and ended up cursing me. So now I'm stuck like this till I find true love's kiss. But fuck that, am I right?\"\n\nThere was no answer. They'd all dropped dead. That was the best part of the curse: I could kill anyone, anywhere, just by telling them about the curse. And who's ever think to be worried about death by parrot?\n\nI flew off, into the night sky and towards my lair, where I'd get SIRI to confirm the kill so my clients could wire payment.",
"I'm a thinker. A planner. This curse business didn't slow me down for long. I still have my high-rise apartment, and boy am I grateful now that I didn't go for one of the lower units. I would have managed, but still. I've always liked being up high anyway. As long as the checks keep coming the building superintendent won't notice a thing, and did you know the banks will send checks online? I don't even have to sign them, which is great seeing as I'm shit with a pen these days. Everything can be done over the phone or internet, even in my line of business. The only sticking point is the mail, but for an extra $10 the Chinese delivery guy will bring it up for me. Not like anything important travels the mail these days, but in my line of work you have to keep up appearances, and an overflowing mailbox can look suspicious. People don't notice the big things, but they notice little things. Never be seen leaving your apartment, and they just think you're a shut-in. But don't collect your mail for a while and suddenly there's talk of \"wellness checks\" and a pair of cops knocking on your door with voices full of concern. That one was a tricky situation, but thankfully money can fix most anything, and my expenses these days are pretty minimal. \n\nI learned pretty early on that windows were damn near impossible for me, so I always left the bedroom window cracked a bit. I slipped through and headed to the park, just a mile away as the crow flies (heh). My target likes to visit this park around noon and feed the pigeons. What a sap. And here he was, sitting on a park bench with his bag of popcorn and an assemblage of cooing plague pits at his feet, looking for all the world like a harmless little old man. Said old man was the biggest Mafia boss this side of the river. I lighted in a nearby tree and surveyed the area. Where's your guards, old man? You don't go anywere without a couple of goons. \n Except here. You come here without the guards, maybe because they scare away your birds, or maybe you just want a few minutes alone with your thoughts. Not that your goons could help you anyway. \n\nI flitted down next to him on the bench, and the pigeons flew away en masse. Good riddance. I hate pigeons. They're nothing more than big balls of feathers and shit, and occasionally the ones around my building try to harrass me. \n\nThe target turned to me. \"Hello,\" he said, holding out a handful of popcorn. I could smell it, cold and rancid with butter. Did he expect me to eat out of his hands, like some sort of tame parrot or something? I had a far more satisfying meal in mind. \n\n\"Hello,\" I croaked back. He looks puzzled, but everyone's heard stories about ravens that can talk, right? I hopped closer. \"You know, I'm really a man. A gypsy cursed me, and true love's kiss will set me free.\" Done. He went from puzzled to confused. His eyes narrowed, then widened as the curse took effect. He clutched his heart as his face changed colors, reddening at first, then growing pale. I hopped from the bench to his chest. I wanted to be close for this. I always liked being close to my prey, which is how that damned old gypsy woman found me, crouched over her husband. If I had been faster, this never would have happened. If I hadn't done exactly what I was doing now, savoring the kill and the power it gave me, I wouldn't be in this form, this place. And I wouldn't have this new-found gift, the ability to kill with words. You may think I regret my actions then, but believe me I do not. How could I regret the best thing that ever happened to me? \n\nThe target's breath was coming slow, gasping. Any minute now would be his last. I leaned over, inches from his face, beak hovering over his right eye. \"Quoth the raven,\" I whispered, \"nevermore.\"",
"**Please let me know what you think! I appreciate constructive feedback.**\n\n---\n\nI had always assumed that princes were turned into frogs to await the kiss of their true loves. I had never been sure whether to be pissed off or relieved that I wasn’t a frog.\n\nI heard soft giggles and the gentle rumble of a man’s voice.\n\nThat had been the first thing I had noticed after my transformation. My improved hearing. Actually, that’s not quite true. It had been my improved sense of smell. I had nearly passed out from the stink of the cage the gypsy had put me into.\n\nI shuffled on the tabletop, avoiding the candles while I tried to inch my way down without my catching my targets’ attentions.\n\n“Aw, look at him,” the woman cooed. “He wants our pasta.”\n\n“Move him. I don’t think that’s hygienic.”\n\n“Oh, shut up!”\n\nNevertheless, I found myself lifted up. I forced myself to become limp and docile in the grasp, despite the frantic hammering of my heart. \n\nNo one had ever realised my true nature. Only a few ever saw me – those I intended to kill. And most of those underestimated me. Why shouldn’t they? After all, I was adorable. I had soft fur and twitching whiskers. I could play the part of the defenceless pet when I needed to.\n\nThere were a few who looked into my eyes and saw, if not the human within, then certainly the intelligence. And, most likely, the murderous rage. I had always sworn to murder the witch for what she had done to me. Until I could figure out how, I would just have to sate myself with the lives I am paid to take.\n\nI heard more soft cooing directed towards me and resisted the urge to shudder. I would have preened if it had been anyone else. I knew what ugliness lay under the exterior. I had seen the pictures. I would be glad to murder these two.\n\nI was set down on the floor. Finally. I raced as away as quickly as I could, trying to recall the blueprints I had seen for the home.\n\n“Look at him go! You scared him!”\n\nI ignored the bickering behind me as I raced, trying to find the kitchen. I knew that it was close. But, I would have to hurry. I wouldn’t want to get caught in the explosion, or in the aftermath. The night may be young, but it was the last day of the full moon. Tonight would be my final chance.\n\nAbsorbed in their murderous plotting, my targets barely noticed me as I raced for the stove. I had already chewed through the thick hose connecting the gas line to the stove. My paws, though not as nimble as a human’s hands, were more than enough to knock over a stray candle sitting on the end of the counter.\n\nThe humans barely noticed as I zoomed past them again, into the small area outside that had been set aside for me. I dived into my hutch, just in time.\n\nThe explosion was small, but I knew that my targets had been sitting close enough for it to kill them.\n\nOnce I was sure that it was safe, a judgement that was sorely impeded by the instinctive terror of the rabbit, I managed to stick my head outside the hutch. A bright light immediately assaulted my eyes.\n\n“It’s just a bunny. Must have been theirs.”\n\nI had waited too long. The police were here. Or firefighters, perhaps. Either way, I would have to find a way to escape. Soon.\n\nI was picked up out of the hutch and cradled against someone’s chest.\n\n“Poor guy. I wonder if they’ll let me take him home.”\n\nI had no intention of allowing that to happen.\n\nMaking sure to wait until my captor had dropped his guard, I leaped for freedom.\n\nI didn’t know what time it was. I would have to hurry if I wanted to get somewhere safe before daybreak.\n\nThere were many, many human standing in my way, but, taken by surprise as they were, they had no chance of stopping me. I had managed to squeeze out of the fence by the time most had realised I had hopped past them.\n\nOnce I was outside, it was easy to build up my speed. Even the slowest of rabbits could run faster than a speed of 40km an hour. And I wasn’t slow, for a rabbit or a human.\n\nBut it would still be cutting it close. I saw the sky begin to lighten, and my heart sank. Once the sun rose, it would no longer be the day of the full moon.\n\nI was so absorbed in my fears that I didn’t notice the squealing of a car’s brakes.\n\nA familiar scent assaulted my nose. I resisted the urge to squeal. I didn’t want to draw attention to myself.\n\n“Get in,” she said, surprisingly.\n\nI dodged to the side, but she was quick. Worse, she knew my tricks. I wished that I could hiss or spit, like a cat.\n\nThe gypsy witch tossed me into the back seat, almost carelessly, and dropped a blanket over me.\n\nI began to shudder and realised, to my horror, that it must be dawn. The familiar feel of my insides burning made me groan, even as my bones stretched. It wasn’t the pain that upset me. I had known that it was coming. It was the fact that the witch could see my change.\n\nShe was gaping at me when I sat up, arranging the blanket around myself. I glared back. I was what she had made me.\n\n“You’re not going to thank me for saving your furry, little butt?”\n\nI wanted to reach over to break her skinny neck, but I knew that would just trap me in the body of a rabbit forever, instead of just for the several days of full moon.\n\n“I wouldn’t need to be saved if you hadn’t cursed me.”\n\n“Don’t forget that you wouldn’t have your lucrative new career without me either.”\n\nThe witch blew a mocking kiss at me before she started the car.\n\n---\n\n*If you liked this story, please visit my subreddit r/YarnsToTell.*",
"######[](#dropcap)\n\n\"Madragoria's Famed Menagerie\"\n\nAn inviting sign, in all gold letters, called people off the street and into what Marylin Madragoria often called \"the greatest pet store since the Garden of Eden.\"\n\nInside, animals of all shapes and sizes squaked, squeaked, roared, and hissed. Marylin, the owner of the the Menagerie, also loved to say \"if Madrogoria's did not contain the animal you were looking for, then the animal you were looking for had gone extinct.\"\n\nMarylin's list of Madragoria sayings extended beyond even her own memory. She was an incredible salesperson, an astute entrepenuer and a famed charmer. \n\nShe had powerful friends and had made powerful enemies. \n\nA man walked into Madragoria's Menagerie with an aura of cool, level headed violence. He walked past the kittens and puppies near the front entrance and into the store proper. Even he, a cold hearted killer and professional assassin, could hardly contain his excitement. \n\nMadragoria's stretched farther and higher than it appeared to from the street. Within, the fabulous shop expanded upwards three stories, the whole store linked together three dimensionally with a system of slatted catwalks and spiral stairs. Along all the catwalks were cages and tanks wherein the most beautiful animals resided happily. Moreover, the distance from the entrance to the backwall was nearly 600 meters. \n\nOn the first floor, an effervescent blue glow emanated from the well lit waters of the sea creatures. Reptiles ruled the second floor, and high up on the third were the mammals - the exotic apes and monkeys and even certain illicit breeds of tree loving wild cats. \n\nThroughout the store, swooshing through the great warehouse expanses of empty space, were the many and various birds. Toucans and cockatiels, an entire mobile flock of parakeets, over two dozen parrots, ravens and crows, three owls, two hawks, and one eagle. All lit by four giant chandeliers exuding perfect golden light.\n\nLooking up from the entryway, through the bright and happy place, through the slats of the catwalks, afforded visitors an astounding view of all life's wonders. In Madragoria's, anything felt within the realm of the possible. \n\nIt took a moment for the assassin to shake the amazing effect the place had on him - transporting him back to a long lost childhood - almost causing him to doubt the mission he'd been handsomely paid to carry out. \n\nWith a small breath, the Assassin centered himself and looked through the menagerie for Marylin. He found her at the far end of the store, on the third floor, helping a customer and he made his way over there, past the first rows of salt water fish and methodically up the spiral staircases. \n\nOn the catwalk the assassin walked to within ten feet of Marylin and paused, pretending to look at a great ape. The ape vocalized at him mindlessly. Marylin took no notice of the assassin, eager to help the young lady who had approached her with a question. \n\nThe assassin's orders were clear - a clean kill, no witnesses. He looked around as best he could and saw no other customers. He need only wait for the random woman to leave and the deed could be done. Gently, subtly, the assassin reached into his jacket holster and removed his gun to his pocket, cocking the hammer back, and waiting.\n\nBy sheer chance, as unbeknownst to the assassin as the assassin was to Marylin, the assassin himself had made a powerful enemy, albeit a different powerful enemy than Marylin Madragoria.\n\nLike Marylin's enemy, the assassin's enemy hired a killer to assassinate the assassin. Even as the first assassin waited, small caliber gun in his pocket, ready to kill in a split second, the assassin's bane hid in plane sight, waiting to strike the killing blow when the moment was just right. \n\nBeside the assassin, the ape continued to mumble blabbering nonsense, seeming to speak to the assassin directly, almost as if the ape had a message to convey.\n\nThe assassin, up close to one of the 'amazing' animals which had so taken him, now felt only disgust. The beast was an imbecile and smelled of filth. Leaning in to the bars, the assassin spoke to the creature, even as it continued to jabber uselessly. \n\n\"God you're stupid.\"\n\nRight then a small green parrot landed on a cage behind the assassin and said, clear as day, with that slight sing song lilt a parrot sometimes has, \"My real name is Dwight, I'm from Pensicola, and I was trapped in this parrot's body by a gypsy's curse and I can only be set free by the kiss of the one who loves me. Squaaaaaa!\"\n\nBefore he could even turn around, the assassin was dead, his heart exploded in his chest. Marylin saw the man fall, but missed the lone green parrot flying away, blending into the chaos, and escaping through a broken window. \n\n\"Mr. Crackers\", aka Dwight from Pensicola, strikes again. \n\n*******\n\n##### For More Legends From The Multiverse\n\n##### r/LFTM"
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[WP] Aliens created a field around our solar system to ensure humans didn't gain a specific technology, for fear of what they would do with it. Our first manned probe has passed Pluto...it also just passed this wizard flying a massive space dragon.
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"I often wondered what my dad thought the first time he saw a bearded man... grasping a staff... flying... a giant reptilian creature. Or in other words a wizard flying a dragon, not a ship, a dragon. To him it must've been quite the spectacle. It's just idiotic these days to call them wizards or dragons once you realize they're just animals and sentient beings living in other planets. \n\nMy father didn't see the first formation of The Terrestrial Council though. It's pretty much a fancy way of saying 12 planetary dignitaries will be monitoring Earth to ensure they are legible to join The Kyfusnhjun Confederation. Or for us Earthlings we call it the Outer Nations. That was a great time in my childhood, SpaceX, NASA, all international space programs worked together and eventually discovered hysperspace travel. The hunger and curiosity of humanity is finally back, the more we discovered the more discoveries there were. Growing up in that era felt lucky, dragons, magic, everything we ever read was true. Just a matter of learning how to manifest matter and energy around you!\n\nJesus? Real. Merlin? Real. Thor? Real. Dragons? Real. Dragons stealing princesses? Real. All of it, in time it was all explained that those little grey beings, stories of wizards, all true. They were all Outer Nation beings just reporting their findings about our curious and warlike nature. They were baffled at how as a society we coexist but as a planet we destroy one another. Wizards would send people on quests to see how we solved problems so quickly, those little grey aliens probing people's asses for study to see what made us so special. \n\nLuckily my father didn't live to see what would have happened, luckily when they invaded they dropped bombs so at least I know it was painless. After the Reptilian Monarchy fell all planets in the Confederation were infiltrated. The Reptilians shapeshifting abilities allowed them to access the lowest levels of poverty to the highest levels of international government. Here I am now, my father was all I had. The First Battle for Mars is about to commence. The Grand Crater of Elon is about to become The Grand Canyon of Elon. \n\nI'm about to shut this holofeed. I'm hoping even if we lose this battle we've given Earth enough time to bolster the planetary cannons and killed enough of those green-skinned bastards to make the fight at home easy. I'm fighting alongside Merlin and his Dragonriders, about 340 dragons. The Human Martian Military will providing infantry and ground support, they'll be holding down sacred ground. The Grey's have their superior long range cannons and Battlecruisers to give us superior firepower. \n\nThe first battle horn of the Reptilian ships are arriving. This is it. For anyone who finds this, for anyone who sees this, please let everyone know on this day Earth fought alongside fantasy and science fiction. Today Earth will make it's first mark on intergalactic war. Today the enemies of humanity will learn about human nature.\n\nSer Bakson of The Riders of Merlin, East Wing, Talon Division... logging out.\n\n\n\n"
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[WP] Some low-level shit is going on, and as an eldritch being of incredible power you just dont care. However while normally you'd have the option of ignoring it, this time is different
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"\"You can't just ignore it!\" My mate screamed, its shrill voice resonating throughout the endless, swirling aether we dwelled in.\n\n\"Yes, I can,\" I replied, turning away from it. \"I have done it before and I can do it again.\"\n\n\"But the Calling! One must not ignore the Calling! You know what it means?\"\n\n\"Yes, I know what it means and I have heard a dozen of times before, and ignored it then, so I will continue to do so now.\"\n\n\"You what!\" Another shrill, high-pitched scream shot through the aether, vibrating the very walls of reality. I use to think that was impressive when we first met, but now the only purpose it was served to slowly chip away sanity.\n\nI turned to it, its hundreds of eyes lining its amorphous frame, each one dripping with a green, oily substance. There was no mouth, its thoughts becoming words, like all beings of our stature.\n\n\"Look, just ignore it, I do it and you can too.\"\n\n\"You, I, we cannot! Go! Answer the Calling!\"\n\nI grumbled, which shook the vats of cosmic energy in the distance to the point they were now just a mist sparkled with stars. My appendages swirled into balled up spheres and my one eye turned a deep ruby, but despite the rage boiling up through me, it was no use — it never was. One cannot win a war against one's own mate.\n\n\"Fine,\" I flatly said, \"but if this is Calling is something unimportant, you will pay for this Mate.\"\n\nHer body shook in agreement. \n\n\"Then, I suppose... I will be taking my leave.\" I made a shape in the air with one of my twenty appendages, then a vivid, phosphorescent portal ripped open before me. Without saying goodbye, I moved into it.\n\nFlashes of kaleidoscopic colors.\n\nBurning one moment, frozen another.\n\nWiping of wind.\n\nA ball of white exploding, filling the vista with brilliant luminescences.\n\nAnother portal.\n\nI appeared in a cramped room with wooden flooring, pastel blue painted walls, and a ceiling that rose upwards, diagonally. Before I even thought of the punishment my Mate would receive when I returned, a man dressed in a black suit stood up from kneeling. Before him laid a symbol, *my symbol* outlined in chalk and piles of archaic books were strewn out.\n\n\"Greeting Eldritch One. I have summoned you for a task.\"\n\nI did not speak, only looked down at the skeletal, pasty man with a mop of brown hair that seemingly covered his eyes.\n\n\"This task is the most important one of my life and with your help, I will achieve it.\"\n\nAgain I did not respond. Rage began building up inside me, my appendages began to tremble and the one eye pulsated with the growing pressure.\n\nThe man turned away from me, staring out the window. \"I have summoned you to help me convince a girl to fall in love with me. Through your esoteric powers, this will be done. And you will do it, too, because I have summoned you and according to those texts,\" he pointed at the floor, \"you must do my bidding.\"\n\nThese people, these *humans* with their books and thoughts and feelings, I thought. Little did they know those texts that claimed this or that were written by other stupid humans like themselves. I was no slave, I was not one to do the bidding of a creature that was so insignificant to the world they resided in.\n\nHe turned to me and said, \"So will you help, or must I force you?\"\n\nMy appendage shot out and wrapped around the man, whose eyes bulged from his suddenly beet-red face. With another appendage, I made my symbol. The portal appeared and I went through.\n\nA ball of white exploding, filling the vista with brilliant luminescences.\n\nWiping of wind.\n\nBurning one moment, frozen another.\n\nFlashes of kaleidoscopic colors.\n\nAnother portal.\n\n\"Mate!\" I roared when I appeared back in the aether, still clutching the man. \n\nMy Mate appeared before me, \"What?\"\n\nI threw the man at her. He was blue in the face and stunk of rotten carcass. \"This is the man who did the Calling, this is what was so important!\"\n\nOne of its eyes extended out, the nerve endings wrapped around the free-floating man and brought him close to the other eyes. \"Oh...\"\n\n\"Yes... Oh.\"\n\n\"But how was I—\"\n\n\"Silence!\" The world shook, darkened, trembling under my words. \"Now for your punishment!\"\n\nIts body shivered, a dozen of eyes closed in fear. \"What will you make me do?\"\n\n\"You will answer the Calling next, and you will be unable to return until the summoner's Call is accomplished.\"\n\nAll her eyes popped open, widening, expanding. \"No... Please no!\"\n\nThen there was the sound, the Calling, vibrating the air around us. \"Someone's calling for you, Mate — now go!\"\n\nI quickly made the symbol, the portal appeared and she disappeared through it.\n\nAn eternity went by.\n\nWhen she appeared she beaten, worn down, most of her eyes watery with tears.\n\n\"It...\" she said, \"it made me wash its body... Its greasy... oily... rancid body... for years... Then its offspring... God...\"\n "
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[WP] Ghosts are actually the people living in the same house, just in a different dimension.
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"Jason didn't believe in ghosts, after all, there was a scientific explanation for everything, right?\nWhen Jason moved to 204 Cedar Dr. he couldn't find an explanation for what was happening in his house.\nHe had just begun unpacking and paranormal things were already happening.\nBoxes tumbled unexpectedly, the lights flickered, he heard footsteps, he thought he was losing his mind!\nJason unpacked his computer and laid it in a nook that was perfect for his computer.\nJason slowly slid his computer into place, and the screen blinked on.\n\"I didn't turn this on...\" Jason said slowly as he backed away from his possessed computer.\nOn the screen was a journal, it read, \"Day 34 of moving in, today the lights flickered but other than that, no paranormal activity to report.\"\nJason sat down at the desk and read over the past few days of the journal, they all matched perfectly with the paranormal activity he had experienced.\nJason sat down and typed: \"What is this?\" as if he expected an answer, well with all of this paranormal activity, maybe he should?\nSurprisingly enough, a response came, not an answer, but another question.\n\"Who are you?\"\nJason hesitated, but wrote, \"I am Jason, I live on 204 Cedar Dr., who are you?\"\nThe response was quick.\n\"Is this some sort of joke? I'm Nosaj, I also live on 204 Cedar Dr.\"\n\"I assure you\" Jason typed, \"that I'm the owner of this residence, and I am the only one who lives here.\"\nUnless....\n\"Describe your surroundings.\" He added\n\"Well\" Nosaj replied, \"I am in a light blue room with a sliding door closet and a lamp, I just moved in so there isn't much here yet.\"\nThis was starting to weird out Jason.\n\"Turn on and off your lamp!\" Jason demanded.\nA few moments later, the lamp in his room flickered.\nAt this point, Nosaj was beginning to put the dots together as well.\n\"Are you the ghost?\" They both typed.\n\"Not a ghost more like a...\" Nosaj started.\n\"...parallel universe doppelganger?\" Jason said, finishing his sentence.\nEvery night at 8, Jason and Nosaj open up the journal, they talk about their days, which are nearly identical, but still unique in small ways. They give each other support and advice, they are closer than friends, closer than family, they share more than anyone could in your universe, making a special bond between two different planes of existence.\n"
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[WP] From the moment a person is born, they are tagged with an idiom to live by. Unfortunately you were born with the tag “A wolf in sheep’s clothing.”
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"“A wolf in sheep’s clothing.” Now I know why they waited so to tell me mine. It’s my eighteenth birthday and the first time I’ve ever heard my tag. Emotions raced through my mind, but I was mostly confused. If I wasn’t normal than what was I? Why was I a wolf? Would I really hurt my family?\n\nI could read the room. It wasn’t good. It felt like at school when all the kids would stay away from me like they were scared. My sister, a needle in a haystack, hid like she always did. I’m not sure if this time it was just out of habit. The balloons deflated. I stared at the words on the cake like an abyss. That reminded me of a quote I read and I looked away.\n\nMy eyes landed on my best friend’s. I could see the terror in her eyes."
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God has been *responding* using email.
200,000 years of unread emails like
"That sounds awful David! I'd love to help. PM me your location."
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[WP] God is real, and has been trying to respond to prayers forever. However, God has been using a futuristic email which we've just discovered.
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"\"A futuristic email?\"\n\n\"Yes, Mr. President.\"\n\n\"And what's so futuristic about it?\"\n\n\"It doesn't have an 'at' sign, sir.\"\n\n\"A what?\"\n\n\"An 'at' sign. His email address doesn't have one.\"\n\n\"You mean those circley 'a' things?\"\n\n\"Yes, sir. Instead, it just says the word 'at'.\"\n\n\"Oh.\"\n\n\"And it's got spaces too.\"\n\n\"Oh.\"\n\n\"Email addresses don't have those.\"\n\n\"Uh huh. Well then...\" The president looked out the window and took a sip of his cup of coffee. \"And can people receive these emails?\"\n\n\"No, Mr. President. No one ever could. Because His address doesn't have -\"\n\n\"An 'at' sign, yes, I know. Can people receive His emails *now*?\"\n\n\"No, sir. The entire email system would have to be changed, and we have not told the public yet.\"\n\n\"Good. Keep it that way.\" The president took another sip of coffee. \"I'm an atheist, you know.\""
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[WP] All at once, all around the world, elephants start heading toward New York.
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"Mrs. Daniel's stood in front of the class, her eyes enlarged by the thin, rimmed glasses perched on an unfortunate nose. Her legs were so thin, I often wasted time counting the lumps under her skin, like scarabs from the Mummy movie, moving around uncomfortably. \n\nHer dark mouth was painted Chrysler beige, the sort of color old people seemed to love in the eighties. As it moves, the class seems to drift, drunk snakes under a talentless flutist. \n\n\"All at once, all around the world, elephants start heading toward New York,\" she began. Her voice rose too quickly, it would run out of oxygen or explode. I wanted it to explode. I wanted her to look at the back of the room and point one sharp black nail at Austin and send him away. Pop him like Ursula. \n\n\"These elephants put on tight dresses and tried to convince the world they were flamingos. It was obvious when the trains broke down and society crumbled, that elephants needed to learn that...\" Mrs. Daniel's stopped. \n\nShe took the paper and put it on her desk. \"There have been a few rumors that certain people have been saying rather cruel things.\" \n\nSomeone coughed, hiding a laugh. \n\nMrs. Daniel's opened her mouth, once, then shut it with a click. \"I'm done with this.\" \n\nShe took the paper and placed it back on a smaller pile. I knew what they held, more examples of Austin's writing. More examples of the way he bullied people even through his school work. \n\n\"Austin Mannford, you need to leave the classroom. Go down to see Mr. Harrison. Mr. John is waiting in the hallway for you,\" she said. She went to the door and handed out the stack of papers. \n\n\"I have copies,\" she said, more to Austin than to Mr. John. \n\nAustin was burdened by the eyes on him. The way he got to his feet lacked confidence, but he pretended. He took his things with him, shoving them in a flaccid backpack like he had all the time in the world. \n\nMrs. Daniel's held open the door until Mr. John's hand took it from her and he peaked in. \"Mannford, get your skinny arse out here,\" Mr. John said. \n\nAustin hurried up, shocked that the football coach, who once defended him, would be doing this. He looked around the room for someone to agree with him, but there was an amused silence, shifting eyes. I met his eyes and smiled. \n\nHe left. The door slammed behind him. Laughter followed him out the door. "
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[WP] you are captured and interrogated, but your interrogator try's to use harmless things like bubbles to extract information.
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"I had stayed behind to let the rest of my group escape. We had argued about it for a bit, but I ultimately decided for them; it had been my idea to venture further out from our encampment for supplies than we had before, but hey, it was the zombie apocalypse, and we were running out of supplies. \n\nWe had gotten too close to The Hoarders territory and they were immediately upon us. If their name didn’t give it away, they liked their stuff and didn’t appreciate others taking it. Regardless, I drew them away from my group and surrendered, and now here I was sitting in what looked like an interrogation room. Two chairs, a table, and flickering light hanging from the ceiling. My head had been covered in a bag so I didn’t exactly know where I was.\n\nAs I sat there looking around, seeing if there was anything I could find to maybe escape, the lone door banged open and in walked in a middle age man who seemed pretty average... for a zombie apocalypse that is. He glared at me, his hands behind his back, and I was a little nervous about the sudden thought of torture and what he had with him. \n\nI wouldn’t break though. I wouldn’t sell out my friends and family.\n\nThe man continued to glare at me, now pacing back and forth across the table. I still couldn’t see what was he was holding, it must be small. A razor? A screwdriver?? Just thinking about it made me sweat. Why wasn’t he saying any-!\n\nBANG!!!\n\nThe man slammed whatever was in his hand onto the table and I flinched back, my eyes closed. When nothing happened, I slowly opened my eyes and saw...\n\n...Bubbles?\n\nI stared at the bottle for a few moments then back to the man who was still glaring at me. Then back then to the bottle. Then back at the man... and then I laughed.\n\n“Do you think this is a JOKE!?” The man shouted, finally speaking. He seemed pretty pissed off, so my laughter died in my throat. \n\n“Um... is it not?” I asked hesitantly. Was he serious? What was the point of bubbles?\n\n“No shit it’s not! This is serious! You and your group of a-holes stole our things!” The man seethed. \n\n“Sorry, but my people were running low on things, and you guys have taken almost everything from the area, more than you need.” I reasoned evenly, and I could see the man grit his teeth angrily. \n\n“I don’t give a rat’s ass about your people, that stuff is ours and ours alone! You’re going to tell me where they are! Now!” The man demanded. \n\n“How about, no? You won’t get anything out of me.”\n\n“You’d better tell me... or else.” \n\n“You can’t break me.” I promised. We had a glaring contest for a moment before the man let out a resigned sigh and sat down. He frowned at me as if in pity. \n\n“I don’t want to have to do this. You seem like a nice guy, you want to protect your people, and I respect that... unfortunately I need answers, and I will get them, and you won’t like how.” With that, the man unscrewed the top of the bubble bottle, pulled out the bubble wand, he’d it up in front of his face, looked at me evenly... and blew. \n\nThe bubbles flew at my face, and I sighed in annoyance as I felt a few pop on my face. I gave him a ‘are you serious?’ expression. He didn’t say anything, just dipped the wand back in, held it back up, and blew. \n\nI closed my eyes as the bubbles popped on my face once again. I opened up and just shook my head at him, “You’re really going to keep doing this?” I asked. \n\nHe did t answer me, just dipped the wand back in the bottle, held it back up, and blew. I grunted in annoyance as I felt the bubbles pop on my face once again. \n\nAnd so this mess of an interrogation continued. The man just blew bubbles in my face. I didn’t know how he thought this was going to work, this wasn’t going to break me whatsoever! However... it was getting annoying. I had started keeping count quickly enough, and right now we were on blow number 40.\n\nAt blow 19 I wasn’t quick enough and got a bubble in the eye. The soapy nuisance stung and made my eye water up. Annoying. \n\nAt blow 26, I was taking a breath and got a bubble in my mouth. Soap doesn’t taste good. Pretty irritating.\n\nAt the 40th blow I noticed that the bubbles were accumulating the soapy liquid on my face. It was starting to constantly get in my eyes and the soapy taste invaded my mouth. It was getting pretty bad. \n\nI lost count at around the 90th blow. My eyes were scrunched up but stung badly, I couldn’t spit out the soap in my mouth... when I didn’t think it couldn’t get any worse, the bubbles finally ceased. \n\n“Hmm... I have to give it to you, kid... no one has lasted this long. You’re lucky, I ran out.” I heard the man say, and the bottle clattered onto the ground. I breathed out a sigh of relief. \n\nThe man seemed to notice the this, “Oh, don’t think we’re done here. We have someone here that we think you’ll... enjoy.” The door opened and I strained to open my eyes to see who it was, but it was blurry through my tears. \n\n“M-Matt...” I heard a whimper and immediately knew who it was. I practically snarled in fury.\n\n“You son of a bitch! You let him go! He had nothing to do with this!” I roared, and I could almost feel the man smirking.\n\n“Well you don’t want to talk so we’ll have to try... other methods,” I could barely see, but watched as the man pushed the smaller figure forward. \n\n“Matt, they said- they said I had to-!”\n\n“Jeremy, it’s going to be okay,” I tried to reassure him before rounding on the man again, “I swear to god you better not hurt him!”\n\nThe man laughed evilly, “Oh no, no, no... you see WE won’t hurt him... he’s going to hurt you!” \n\n“What?!” I couldn’t believe it, they were going to have him hurt me, it was so... cruel...I watched through the pain as the smaller figure stepped up next to me.\n\n“Go on, boy, do as we said. Maybe you can get the information out of him.” The man cackled.\n\nI heard the boy take a deep breath to steady himself before I get him grab my wrist. There was a pause before he hit me with my own hand. \n\n“Why’re you hitting yourself!?”\n\nIt was my younger brother, the most annoying person on the planet. I don’t know where they got him... but I knew it was the end for me. \n\n\n(Thanks for reading. I have 5 younger siblings, so I know irritation lol) ",
"There was no doubt about it. My captor was absolutely insane. Even now, as he paced my \"torture chamber\" contemplating how he was going to 'torture' me, I couldn't help but laugh to myself at the several things he had come up with over the last few days.\n\n\"Alright...\" He said. \"I have a plan!\" He was talking to himself and rubbing his hands through his hair. \"no, no, no...\"\n\nI thought about the last form of torture, which involved me reading a tentative novel of his that he was \"too nervous to show anyone else\". It was about a man who liked torturing people \\- go figure \\- but it was actually pretty good. I tried telling him that, but he wouldn't believe me. He told me that the novel was terrible, and that me trying to tell him otherwise was a sign that the torture was working. I was afraid, apparently. So to him I tried lying so he would stop torturing me with reading it. Sometimes, when he left me completely alone in silence for a few hours at night I wondered how the story actually ended. But he took the book away from me, so I might never know.\n\nThe time before that, he made me help him finish a crossword puzzle. Before we put down the last few letters though, he took away the sheet of paper and said with a triumphant smile, \"there is no worse torture than a crossword puzzle that goes unfinished!\" He then scurried out of the room with a strange, high\\-pitched giggle with the sheet folded in his hands. I didn't know how to react.\n\nFinally, after a few more minutes, he stopped pacing the room. \"I've got it!\" He reached into his pocket and pulled out a handheld videogame system. \"There's this boss I've been trying to defeat for *days*. He's so hard. I just can't do it. It gets on my nerves so much.\" He thrusted the entertainment system into my hands. \"You are not allowed to stop until you defeat the monster.\" He gave me that strange laugh again as he faded out of the room.\n\n...\n\nAdmittedly, it did take me a while to defeat the boss. About 5 hours. It didn't help that I had no idea how to play the game, so I had to go back a few levels to learn how to do it. After a few failed attempts, though, my captor laughed his strange cackle and mused about how frustrated I looked at that moment. He stood behind a two\\-way mirror, with the light left on \\(I could easily see him\\), and pressed his forehead to the glass. He was trying so hard not to be obvious, but he would start making all these sounds form behind the glass whenever I got to the final boss. He was also breathing heavily through his nose and smoking the glass in a way that made it look like he had a mustache.\n\nIt was so strange, but the game was actually fun. Sure, losing all those times was a little annoying, but it was by no means torture. He stormed into the room and snatched the console out of my hands. \"There, you must be very annoyed by now.\" He had on this smug smile that suggested to me that he thought he actually won at something.\n\nI wasn't at all angry. I had no idea who he was, but I couldn't help but to feel that he was a harmless fool.\n\n**Sorry, but I gotta go now!** Here is the page where I'll be completing the rest of the story: \\[/r/BooksOfCricket\\]",
"“I really didn’t expect this kind of…treatment,” I admitted. \n\n“*Nobody* expects the Spanish Inquisition!” \n\nI didn’t bother telling Cardinal Rosenberg that we actually *had* been expecting him and his cohorts. In fact, that had been an integral part of the plan, which should have been simple. I deliberately got myself captured, intending to be tortured into surrendering all of the Brotherhood of Darkness’s secret plans to bring a thousand year reign of darkness upon the world at large. \n\nNow, you may think that this wouldn’t benefit me in the slightest. And that would be true if I was a member of the Brotherhood of Darkness. But I’m actually a member of the Order of Shadow, the sworn enemies of the Brotherhood, although no one has given me a satisfactory answer as to *why* yet. After all, it’s not like we have moral objections to bringing about a thousand year reign of darkness; we have our own plans to do just that. Still, I was ordered to use the Church as pawns to stop the Order’s plans.\n\nThe problem was that no one was willing to torture me. The Inquisition’s idea of torture appeared to be four star level accommodations instead of five star. They only provided me with paperback books instead of hardcover books. My tea only had one sugar in it as opposed to the customary two. The magnificent picture windows overlooking Seville were slightly grimy. You get the picture. \n\nWhile Cardinal Rosenberg and his legion of nitwits may have been dumb as posts, they reported to men who were very sharp indeed. If I cracked over this so-called torture, they would get suspicious, and there could not be the slightest hint of the Order’s presence in Spain. The Wise Masters would be quite angry, and *they* had no issues with torture. \n\nRosenberg placed a stapler and a set of papers on the coffee table. “The wicked will receive their just deserts,” he swore. “You will tell us our secrets…or we will staple these papers *unevenly!*” \n\n“Do your worst!” I shouted, hoping that, for once, they would listen to me. I insulted Rosenberg’s level of faith, insinuated that his paternity was dubious, and called him every insult in the Spanish language. Surely, I could provoke him into hurting me. He just smiled piously at me and stapled paper after paper, with no staple ending up in the same part of the paper twice.\n\nAfter the last paper was stapled, Rosenberg scowled at me. “You may have triumphed in this round, but will you be so courageous when we only deliver your newspapers *biweekly?!*” \n\nAnd so it went for weeks. Rosenberg burned a waffle in front of me. He served veal marsala made with only three cloves of garlic instead of the recommended four. He moved the collection of books in the bookcase out of alphabetical order. When he threw a knife in my general direction, I rejoiced, but it turned out he was only throwing it at a nearby snake that was about to bite me. \n\nAfter a week, I almost was ready to give up and say that I simply broke due to the suspense of wondering when the Spanish Inquisition was really going to get to the torturing. But I was a loyal agent of the Order, and I would not give up. I had a plan. Rosenberg thought I wasn’t dangerous, but if I escaped and then allowed them to recapture me, they would change their mind.\n\nI came up with a stupendously elaborate plan to escape, involving a bungee cable, so I was pretty disappointed to realize that I could just walk out the front door, which was left unlocked. I was a man of honor, and I would do my duty for the Order. But this was *beneath* me. \n\nI made it all the way to the Andorran border before I was arrested. Frankly, I was surprised I made it such a short distance; I was expecting to have to be apprehended by the Latvian Inquisition once I made it all the way to Riga and then handed over. But while the Spanish Inquisition was made up of idiots, the law enforcement agents working for them appeared quite sharp. \n\nUnfortunately, while Rosenberg swore that he would treat me with far more seriousness, than ever before, he did not appear to be telling the truth, or at least not enough of the truth for my tastes. My afternoon tea was taken away from me. My magazine collection was cut in half. He played classical music during our daily interrogations. \n\nThere were only two real solutions open to me. Solution one: I could go to my established plan B and get captured by the Latvian Inquisition, which I understood was run by a very nasty cardinal. Solution two: I could simply “break” from the Spanish Inquisition’s so-called torture, lie to my superiors about why it happened, and pray fervently that they weren’t actually able to see into the minds of their agents like they claimed they could.\n\nEventually, I decided that enough was enough. This assignment was ridiculous, and, more pertinently, the deadline for the Brotherhood’s plans to create a thousand year reign of darkness was fast approaching. After being given a lukewarm mimosa, I pretended to crack and told them all about the Brotherhood’s diabolical schemes. \n\nWhen I got to the end of my story, Rosenberg pressed a button beneath the table. I heard my own voice playing back to me the words I had just said. He pulled at his beard with one hand; it came off his face, revealing it to be false. With the other hand, he reached into the pocket of his robes and pulled out a gun, which he pointed at my head. \n\n“You know,” Rosenberg said, in a conversational tone and an accent that certainly wasn’t Spanish at all, “you were disappointingly easy to fool. I warned my superiors that you wouldn’t fall for this Monty Python style garbage, but it appears I overestimated you.”\n\n“Who are you?” I demanded.\n\nHe bowed elaborately. “My name is Edgar Reynolds, and I am one of the leading field agents of the Brotherhood of Darkness. We had to know what the Order of Shadow knew about our plans. Of course, you would never tell a Brotherhood agent. But you would tell a member of the Spanish Inquisition…especially if you thought it was your mission to do just that!”\n\n“Well, shit,” I said, summarizing the situation quite succinctly. \n\nReynolds smirked. “Yes, indeed. And the best part of it is that we’re going to send this recording to your superiors. You confessed after the lamest torturing in the history of time. They’ll never trust you again. And we know what they do to people they don’t trust. But it doesn’t have to be that way. The Brotherhood is always looking for new members.”\n\nI shrugged. I was devoted to the cause of the Order of Shadow, but I was devoted to my survival more. “Okay. I just have one demand. I want an actual cold mimosa. And I want it *now.*” "
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[WP] Your body becomes transparent, doesn't interact with the real world and just floats when you hold your breath. You've had it as a child and don't understand why no one else has it. Explain how you found out that you had this ability.
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"One day, I was watching Hunter x Hunter, and I got to the episode where Meleoron explains his ability, Perfect Plan. When I tried to hold my breath as long as I could, I found that my brother, who was on the couch beside me, was wondering where I’d gone.",
"it was my first time at a public pool. i had just learned how to swim with floaties and i wanted to try a cannonball. the other kids were doing it and it looked like fun. i closed my eyes, jumped in the air and held my breath. but the splash never came. after a few seconds i peeked and saw my mom going crazy and the water below me. i tried to shout, but then the spell broke and i dropped into the water with my mouth wide open. every time i held my breath to stop the water rushing in i found i couldnt swim up towards the air or back towards the walls. i nearly drowned.\n\nand some people wonder why i have a fear of water."
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[WP] You have just died and become a ghost, however shortly after your death there was a zombie uprising in which you follow your own body around watching it attack survivors (bonus points for using ghost powers to help either the zombie or the survivors)
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"\"What the hell, man?\" The new ghost cursed.\n\n\"I'm so so sorry.\" I yelled as I put my pearly palms together in an apologetic gesture, all while chasing my body.\n\nUgh, another new victim, well the underworld isn't going to be pleased with me.\n\nMy body was actually pretty harmless at first. It was groggy, disoriented and kept running into walls and tripping over the random things. I was facepalming that whole time. Then it got near a neighbourhood, and it literally just... changed. Suddenly it was running faster than I had ever ran before and then it just pounced on one of the passerbys and sunk its jaw into his neck and... \n\nGross, maybe I should've just passed on like the rest of the ghosts. But I had been curious, and it was still night after all; my essence won't burn away just yet. Now I'm starting to regret my decision. Not only is it disgusting and bloody, I can't help feeling guilty every time my body claimed a new victim. I know, I'm not the one who's doing it, but if I had just managed to escape that zombie...\n\nOh yeah, I'm now a ghost, maybe I can do something about this mess. Possession? ...Well, according to the stories, I could, but possessing a live human being means I would cause them some sort of sickness or misfortune. 'Too much yin energy' my mother's voice echoed. An object? Well, I don't see how that would be of any use- Wait, my body is now non-living, technically an 'object'. Repossess my body...??\n\nMy zombified body has somehow wandered into a lonely alleyway and calmed down now. The neighbourhood is a wreck. Bricks and debris lying everywhere, signs of fights well fought, but it seems like the living has been fighting a losing battle. If I were to repossess my body, now is the time to do it, when whatever the zombie injected my body with isn't going berserk.\n\nI took a mental deep breath and stepped my ghostly foot forward into my real foot. Immediately I could feel the fatigue built from the lactic acid. Well this is already going to be a pain. I took another mental deep breath to steel my courage. I stepped my other foot forward and slowly merged with my body from bottom up. First it was the burn from my legs, then the sharp pain from my side, the thirst of my lungs and finally the most fiery pain of all, the neck where it bit me, and the throat. Ow ow ow... It hurt almost as badly as the time of my death. There's no way I can stay in this for long\n\nI forced my body to sit down in that alleyway. Even the simple movement of relaxing my muscles felt like steering the heaviest vehicle in the world. A vehicle that hurt. A lot. Maybe it wasn't the best idea, letting myself recover. My fingers stumbled across a piece of broken brick. Oh that's right, I could cripple myself. A zombie is already dead, there's no way I could kill it, but if I managed to take out one of my legs...\n\nI made my body crawl to the largest, most heaviest piece of brick I could find. My hands felt much weaker than when I was alive. Was it the blood loss? Where did that overpowered zombie strength come from? My arms trembled as I picked up the brick. Well, here goes nothing...",
"They say that when you die, you'll go to heaven, hell or limbo. At least, that's what I was taught by my particular church. Not sure how Christian they actually were, but, whatever. Well, as it turns out, this denomination was actually right... There was such a thing as limbo. Well, what it actually is, is simply remaining in the world as a ghost. \n\nAnd that's me, a ghost. Dunno what I did, or what I didn't do. What I do know, is I'm now stuck in this world, bound to a necklace I'd worn since I was three. Thus, I'm stuck watching my body for now... \n \nOh, it's not boring. No, it was to begin with. Then the world up and turned. It seems revelations came true? Is that what it was? I never really paid attention... But, point is, my body rose from the grave (literally). The zombie apocalypse! \n\nSo, what's happening? \n\n\"No! Don't! Don't come near me!\" \n\nA kid is shouting at my zombified body. Fine, let's give him a good fright... \n\nI swoop down, possessing the necklace on my body. \n\n*Joiiiiiiiin meeeeee* \n\n\"?!\" \n\n*Beccoooomeee a zooombieee* \n\n\"...\" \n \nAh, it seems the kids not scared anymore. Just kinda lost. Well, have fun being eaten kid! \n\nOr not. \n\nIt seems that the kid got brave because of that and ran away. Eh, oh well. I don't really care either way. \n\nThus, I continued on haunting my body, doing stupid stuff like this to keep me entertained. After all, I'm in limbo. Ghost life is pretty boring. "
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[WP] You are called the most grateful man in the world. You live each day to it's very fullest and consider yourself very fortunate to have a great life! Thing is, everytime you sleep, you toggle between another identity on earth.
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"For an outsider looking in, I can say with all honesty that most people want to be me, whether they admit it or not. Here I am, the founder of a life saving technology that finally rid the world of cancer. I am the CEO and founder of Qualchem Technology, who invented the biomedical chip that displaced cancer cells effectively removing it from the world. Some people call me a hero, some even a saint, and I've never put anyone in their place to correct them on that. Doing so would invoke some of my most deep seated fears, fear that my secret was out, that people would learn to know the true me.\n\n\"Good Day Mr. Miller\", a disheveled homeless man muttered as I made my made my through the dark alley, interrupting my thoughts. \"S-S-Spare some change?\" he continued, a look of desperation in his eyes. I was a little caught off guard, as I thought I was disguised well for being in this part of town. Baseball cap pulled low, sunglasses on for far too late in the evening, and a distressed hoodie that had seen far too many washes already. Plus I had a body double on the other side of town, the \"good part of town\", who could account for my whereabouts should I ever encounter anyone claiming to witness my dirty work. As far as I knew, the slate was clean, and even degenerate tabloids never so much as once painted me in a negative light.\n\nI cleared my throat, attempting to disguise my voice, \"I'm not who you think I am buddy, but here you go\" I stated, retrieving a hundred dollar bill from my wallet and handing it to him.\n\n\"Sure you're not,\" he sarcastically grinned, finishing his smirk with a wink. He lingered for a moment, swaying from side to side, no doubt under the influence. I didn't like the way he was grinning, I wasn't sure what it was about these homeless and displaced people, but I felt like they could see into to me, reading right through my soul. It made me nervous each time I encountered them. Let's just say that aside from being the richest man in the world due to Qualchem Technology, I didn't hand out money only to appear giving and fortunate, much of it had to do with my insecurity. Sooner or later I would be found out.\n\n\"Tell you what buddy, for another hundred, how about we forget this exchange ever happened?\" I asked, handing him another bill. \"Sure thing Sir,\" he excitedly proclaimed, his eyes widening as he accepted the bill. \"Now get out of here,\" I stammered as I watched him scurry down the alley way and turn down another, which happened to be in the direction of the nearest liquor store much to my relief. \n\nA few steps later, I reached my destination, a dark green restaurant dumpster bin with chipped paint. I reached inside and fumbled with a few trash bags, finally reaching the one on the bottom. The heaviest one, the one I was looking for. I peeked inside after pulling it from the trash bin, it looked like in was all there, all ten thousand dollars.\n\nI hurled the bag over my shoulder and continued walking down the damp dark alley way toward where my get away car was parked. It was a beat up run down Chevy, that not only looked like it belonged here, but most wouldn't think of stealing in fear of the engine giving out.\n\nAnother successful trip, I thought to myself. After all, what I was doing now was the most risky part of my behavior. I was doing this as my real self, and I guess one could say this was part of the thrill. The rest came easy, for if I was caught outside of myself, I could wake up back home in my body with nothing to worry about. Are you confused yet? So was I.\n\nIn the research for Qualchem Technology and during the designing stage for the cancer separating chip, I managed to separate human consciousness. I learned I could simply place a chip over a major artery with prongs, and limit it to an eight hour sleeping window. What I do in those 8 hours are my choice, as I can jump from any one human being that is asleep and susceptible, who would have no knowledge of the events, essentially taking on their identity.\n\nYou see, for every hero there is a villain, an unfortunate consequence of our polar reality, duality exists for a reason. For every good I do, I must do bad, and that is the nature of the beast. For every life I save, one must be taken, to do nothing now that I have embarked on this would upset the very balance of life.\n\nFor now I choose to rob banks when I implant the chip every night. I offset the bad by giving the money gained by those experiences to the most needy. I have offset the good in those same instances by taking the lives of the law enforcement sworn to protect the community.\n\nThey say light cannot exist without darkness, for this sake I fear what side I will be pulled too...\n\n"
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[WP] You just found out you had superpowers this whole time... on your 102nd birthday
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"*I hate irony*\n\nGeorges is old. That's the first thing people think about when meeting him. Not anyone can reach this age. Yes, one can say that being 102 years old is ... old.\n\nHe has seen many thing. Fought in a World War, got married, had kids, and has been successful while working in a garage (and later owning it). But he never noticed *that*.\n\n*It has to happened when I'm going to die* thinks Georges.\n\nHe is lying in an hospital bed, with intravenous set tied to his arm, and he made a spoon fly. He is watching it on the table, and thinks : *Does it still work?*\n\nHe tries again, and the spoon lifts, floating slowly in front of him. As he releases the grip, the spoon falls again, making a tingling noise when meeting the floor.\n\n*I wonder what else I can do.* thinks Georges.\n\nHe closes his eyes to focus. after a while, he opens them again. *It seems I can't fly* thinks Georges, with a bit of disappointment.\n\nhe looks at a tree outside of his room. He tries to shake a branch. It moves a little, but nothing really impressive.\n\n*Well, it doesn't seem to be really useful after all* thinks Georges sadly.\n\n*There is at least one thing on which it can be useful* thinks Georges as he is looking at all the tubes and machines next to him.\n\nHe focuses, and presses a button which is out of reach. A number slowly increases, and he feels more and more peaceful.\n\n*finally* is his last thought as the numbers below a \"morphine\" label stops increasing.\n******\n\n*if you liked reading this, [you can find other texts on my subreddit](/r/cynferdd)*"
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[WP] All the statues in the world come alive and attack humanity. Tell us what happened during the Statue War.
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"\"All in all, not much of a much.\" Mr. Johnson puffed away at the cigar as he sat on his porch, bouncing a tumbler of whiskey on his knee. \"Not sure why kids like you would care to hear an old man talk about ancient history.\" \n\nLittle Walker raised his hand, for all the world like he was still sitting in a classroom - and a slow smile split the lines on Johnson's face as he nodded for the boy to say his piece, \"Mrs. Janine told us you were there at the Museum of Natural History, you helped dozens of people get out. She says you were a hero Mr. Johnson.\"\n\nThe old man leaned back in the chair, and the cigar threatened to fall out of his mouth as the laughter rolled out of his belly. Wiping a tear from his eye with the hand not busied with his drink, he plucked the cigar out and leaned forward. A hush fell over the children as they realized they might get a story out of the old man after all. \n\n\"First things first,\" Mr. Johnson whispered conspiratorially, \"I want to tell you all that I'd never been so scared in my life. The local news tried calling me a hero for a while,\" he pointed at each child in turn, \"but I wouldn't let them, and i won't let you. No matter what Mrs Janine says,\" a quick puff on the cigar as he looked toward the sky and gathered his thoughts, \"I guess a little background might help.\"\n\n---------------------------------\n\nThe year was 2019, and life was a little weird everywhere. I was living in New York at the time, but I think everywhere in the world could feel the tension. These days names like Obama or Trump are just two more photos on those every president posters in school, but at the time they were important, and a lot of people got *really* angry about how you felt about them. That's why I don't think any of us noticed it in those first couple days, too distracted by everything else going on. \n\nThen a statue of an old American General in Monroe, Michigan came to life and started galloping around a small city on a stone horse and killing people. The history books now say it was the first one, but it definitely wasn't the last. See, every statue on Earth came alive and started trying to fight humans. \n\nI never did hear an answer from any scientist that I believed a lick, but that ain't too important - see, I saw it happen with my own eyes. The statues walked. For most people, that wasn't too big a deal. How many statues do you think we had laying around? Governments stopped building 'em after the war, but they weren't exactly on every corner like Starbucks before. Unless you were at a war memorial or a museum or something, you were probably fine.\n\nWhich is why I had the bad luck to be in the Museum of Natural history browsing an exhibit on the Maya when a statue of Ixchel tried to brain me with a potted plant.\n\n---------------------------------------\n\nThe gasp of the kids got the old man's attention, and he quickly waved away their concerns, \"obviously she didn't get me,\" he chuckled patting his chest, \"I'm still here to talk to all you little ones, aren't I?\" \n\nWalker cleared his throat, and as Mr. Johnson met his inquisitive gaze the little boy asked shyly, \"how many statues were in the museum Mr. Johnson?\"\n\n\"Oh, not so many as you might think,\" the old man sighed, \"but more than I'd have probably hoped. \n\n-------------------------------------\n\nSee, 'Statue War' is a pretty stupid way to put it. It wasn't limited to just stone or marble carvings, but it didn't seem to affect placement sculptures either. Again, the scientists talk about things like this - but I got my own rule of thumb for it, call it Johnson's Third Law for fun: if it was made to look like a human, but it wasn't a human, it was coming to life. \n\nThat made things like mannequins and animatronics a pretty big deal. There were a lot of those. Th cops would later say we got seventy five people out, I try not to listen to how many didn't make it - but I do know there were four hundred and seventy eight \"hostiles\" as the boys in blue called the score. \n\nIxchel was one of the baddest of that group, she was stone. About eight and a half feet tall of it, and swinging around a potted Ceiba tree that probably outweighed me alone. I'm not ashamed to say i ran for it, tried to put an exit door between us, and she just barged right through the wall. \n\nRemember how I said I spent most the time scared? Well right about then I was terrified. "
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https://www.reddit.com/r/AskReddit/comments/8aw2r8/z/dx2fjxb
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[WP] Vampires are all named by their masters. The greats include Alucard, Vlad, and Nosferatu. Your Master named you Phil.
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"All of the other vampires mocked my entire vampire lineage for our extremely average names. There was vampire Robert, vampire Alice, vampire Steven, my master vampire Karen, and me...vampire Phil.\n\nAll of Arucards, Vlads, Nosferatu's, Lestats, and so forth would constantly ask me \"why did she name you Phil?\" To which I had no real answer because I really don't know why I was named vampire Phil Smith either. Several decades passed by with me not understanding why I had such an unimpressive name until a group of vampire hunters came into town.\n\nAll of the Arucards, Vlads, Lestats, and Armands were found by the vampire hunters pretty quickly by their obvious vampire names while vampires Robert Jones, Alice Brown, Stephen Stewart, Karen Thompson and Phil Smith didn't raise suspicion at all. No wonder our lineage is one of the oldest.",
"How do you view my chosen name?\n\nWhy do you chuckle so?\n\nDon't stop now, there is no shame,\n\nI'd truly like to know.\n\nYou find it funny, that's plain to see,\n\nBecause my name is Phil,\n\nYou use it to look down on me,\n\nYou think I would not kill.\n\nBut it's just a name, no more, no less,\n\nIt's quite a shallow display,\n\nTo judge me so, I must confess,\n\nSo here is what I say.\n\nYou stand before me still and calm,\n\nI do not sense much fear,\n\nA vampire named Phil can bring no harm,\n\nThis is what I hear.\n\nBut the name does not make the being,\n\nThe being makes the name,\n\nYour startled eyes are surely seeing,\n\nYour death will bring mine fame."
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[WP] After years and years of punchlines using the term, you have become the world's first "professional asshole." Describe a day in the life at your workplace.
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"I pulled into the corporate parking ramp pretty early, as it was still mostly empty at that time. I parked very sloppily, making sure to take up at least two parking spaces, while still being close enough to give the car next to me a massive door ding.\n\n'So far, so good,' I thought to myself with a wry smile, as I left the ramp and went across the street for a coffee.\nA couple hours later I returned, strolling into the cube farm like nothing had happened, despite my scheduled shift starting almost a half hour prior.\n\n\"Jesus, Ben. We were starting to wonder if something was wrong,\" said Jared, a look of obviously fake concern on his face. \"Oh, wait,\" he continued, his features melting to a sneer, \"we knew there was nothing wrong, because you literally do this every single day. You *know* we're the busiest right away in the morning, and we really need you to-\"\n\nI turned away from him abruptly, cutting his words off by slipping my headphones on and powering up my workstation. I could feel him there, watching me for a long moment, but did my best to ignore him until he went away, like he always did. \n\n'Let's see,' I thought to myself, opening up the group email and checking through the group inbox contents. 'Boring, boring, worthless, spam, probably phishing...' I began randomly flagging items for deletion, smirking to myself as the morning's workload began to clear out. Of course I opened the one I thought would be phishing, but it was just an ad for some cheap medications. 'Damn, better luck next time,' I thought, shaking my head with a grin.\n\nAfter a couple stressful hours of pretending to be busy, I slipped my headphones down and turned to my cube neighbor, Amanda.\n\n\"Morning, honey-bunny,\" I offered in my creepiest voice as I leered at her. \"You break up with that boyfriend of yours yet?\"\n\n\"Jesus, Ben; you know that isn't going to happen,\" Amanda replied in an annoyed tone. \"I asked you to quit bringing that up. Don't make me go to HR.\"\n\n\"Well, whatever,\" I replied, letting my gaze roam downwards over her plump body. \"You know I'd treat you better than he does anyways.\" I paused to sneeze, not bothering to cover my mouth, then added, \"I'm going to lunch. Cover for me, will ya?\"\n\n\"But Jared was the first one in, so he gets to take his lunch first,\" Amanda replied, looking around nervously. I shrugged, locking my PC, and turned to leave, slipping my headphones on.\n\nI walked down to the employee lunchroom and opened the fridge, taking a moment to peruse the contents. I picked six lunches at random and threw them directly into the trash, burying them deep under the existing trash. I found Jared's lunch and took it as well, but ate the parts I wanted, and trashed the rest. I took a moment to create a rich tapestry of condiments and coffee grounds over the counters and table, taking a moment to admire my handiwork before departing.\n\nI took the scenic route back to my cubical, making sure not to meet anyone's gaze as I tactically crop-dusted the floor. I eventually made it back to my work group, only to notice that Jared's PC was left unlocked. 'Jackpot,' I thoughts, my eyes lighting up.\n\nHumming to myself, I went through the settings and changed his admin password, then changed his screensaver to a very risque scantily-clad beefcake model. I then flipped his screen image upside down, reversed his mouse buttons, and locked his PC before slipping stealthily back to my own cubicle.\n\nThe fallout from Jared's return to his desk was enough to amuse me for about another hour, as I went through and deleted another crop of group emails. After a bit, I ended up getting bored, so I pulled my shoes off and began clipping my toenails at my cubicle. And, you had better believe there was no trash receptacle nearby when I did.\n\nI started shutting my PC down about 25 minutes before the end of the day, and assumed a pose of watching the clock intently as it ran down towards five o'clock. Finally, 4:50 came and I packed up my things, ignoring the protests of both Jared and Amanda, and left the office. I made sure to give the car parked next to me another solid door ding, and raked my keys along the fender for good measure. I cranked on the radio, found a good station, and tore out of the parking ramp doing a good twenty miles per hour over the listed speed limit.\n\n-----------------\n\n\"How did work go today?\" the man asked, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table separating us.\n\n\"Not bad,\" I replied, taking a sip from the iced tea in front of me before continuing. \"I would guess that morale is getting pretty low, what with the car vandalism and lunch thefts running rampant in the workplace.\"\n\n\"You're too good at annoying people,\" the man, whom I only knew as 'Mr. Black' responded. \"We're going to have to get you into the other branch soon. Or maybe a different department where nobody knows you.\"\n\n\"That works for me,\" I responded, letting an easy grin come to my mouth. \"For what you're paying, I'd take a shit on the CEO's desk while yodeling that Hocus Pocus song, if that's what you required.\"\n\nMr. Black ogled me for a moment, then chuckled, shaking his head \n\n\"For now, just keep on doing what you've been doing: steadily eroding their morale. Every sale they lose is another one in my pocket. Every good employee they lose is one I can pick up on the rebound.\"\n\n\"And when they lose enough morale to fold?\" I asked, turning the glass on the table in front of me.\n\n\"We always have more competitors, Ben. How do you feel about... customer service?\"\n\nI grinned broadly, responding, \"Baby, I'm a natural.\""
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[WP] In the distant future, paying for memory doesn't become a necessity only for your phone or computer. You also have to pay for your own brain space.
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"Insanity. \n\nThat's what all the ads say. Insanity. It'll happen to you as you age, your immortality preying on your weak mind.\n\nIt's genius and yet the most corrupt at the same time. It's sounds like a riddle, what everyone needs too much of yet no one will ever have enough of.\n\nThe government corrupted it too. The insanity, they were warned. Hurry, you want to hold your power sanely. So the politicians listened to the crow in their ear, eager to make immortality ethical of sorts. Acceptable for the least.\n\nThe doctors prescribed it, that space. The cure for insanity before you go mad with an aging brain yet a youthful body. The doctors told me that I'm going mad and forgetful, not enough memories for the brain. But they're the mad ones.\n\nThe companies are just parts of one corrupt company. Selling immortality first, and then the solution to immortality's problems separately. It's a false competition, the world falling for it at every twist and turn. I could never twist this crow's neck, it's too late. \n\nWhat rebelling could be done? Locked under chains for the mad insanity, trying to force the space upon us. In oh so many ways. Mad, they all cry. We've gone mad with the brain's age. You need more space. Be a robot, have an upgrade.\n\nMad we are, us. I've got one stone left to throw at this crow, mad or not. \n\nThe conference.\n\nThe crow's head all gathered in one room.\n\nThe stone ready to throw. \n\nAim the stone.\n\nBam.\n\nWatch the stone soar to the crows head.\n\nThrough the eye and hit the space.\n\nThe first stone in surely thousands.\n\nLook who's mad now.",
"I looked through my memories and groaned. My storage was full. Beginning the tedious task of flicking through the memory files and deleting older ones, I made my way into the kitchen. I didn't have many memories worth keeping.\n\nI had deleted over half my memories when the warning popped up again.\n\n>'Storage full'\n\n*What the?*\n\nI checked my downloads. A 7 terabyte download was in the queue. I didn't recall downloading anything, so I checked the details.\n\n> Luke! The memories you have are fake. These are your real memories! Please remember. Accept the download.\n\nI scoffed. Must've picked it up on some crummy website. Scams were getting better these days. I canceled the download and made my way back to the threadbare couch.\n\nI went to delete what was left over from the download. I didn't want any corrupted files in my head. It turns out they weren't files, they were videos.\n\nCurious I opened one.\n\nAn old woman appeared on the screen. \"Luke, if you're seeing this it means at least part of the download worked. We are sending you your memories. Buy the space if you have to, but you must *remember*\"\n\n"
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[WP] While walking their dog, a civilian stumbles across a realistic looking rock with a hollow compartment, filled with cash, a stranger's photo with a name, time, and address written on it
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"I google the address the second I get home. It’s the location of a café, sadly - not a home I could drop by anytime.\n\nSo the next day, at the one o’clock specified in the note, I arrive. I order a coffee and take a seat, praying the mysterious image in the photograph will appear so I can satiate my curiosity.\n\nHalf an hour passes, and nothing. Many people enter and exit, none bearing even a passing resemblance.\n\nI’m losing hope, glancing at my phone every other second to check the time.\n\nI hear a voice behind me. “Young lady, are you waiting for someone?” \n\nI turn in response, finding a man seated in a table I hadn’t really looked at since my arrival.\n\n“Yes, yes I am,” I reply.\n\n“May I ask the name?”\n\n“Anthony Baxter”\n\n“I see you found my little secret, eh?”\n\nIt takes me a moment to react. The man before me does not look like the handsome stranger in the photograph. But the paper I initially took for weathered must be something more - simply old.\n\nThe yellowing of the paper matches the yellowing of the man before me. His wrinkles and wispy white hair show his age, but as I examine him further I see the hints of the younger man.\n\n“I suppose I don’t look quite as I did back then, now do I?” He asks, chuckling.\n\n“No, not quite,” I reply with a smile. “So, why? What was the point of that? How long has it been hidden? How long have you waited?”\n\n“It was a game with my wife. We liked to hide things around town and see who would find it. Sometimes it was so interesting - people would show up expecting spies, and find us two sitting here with some tea. I never thought someone would find this last one though. Madi - my wife - hid them so well. This one was her best work.”\n\n“It certainly was difficult. I only found it by chance - I was walking my dog and he was messing with them, kicking them around. This was among them, and when he overturned it I saw the glassy bottom.”\n\n“Ah, well, Mads certainly would be glad someone found it.”\n\nI look down at my coffee, afraid to ask, but he sees my hesitation and answers. “She passed on a few years back. She had some memory problems, but never quite forgot our game. It was hard - some days she wanted to go hiding these like we did when we were younger, but she could barely walk. Instead we’d come here and see if anyone would find them. We had a few more before she passed, and she was always so excited. She’d be tickled you found this one.”\n\n“Oh. I’m so sorry for your loss. I can’t even imagine -“\n\nHe cuts me off. “No need. It’s been some time - I’m only happy she’s in a better place now. I’d much rather think about the good times than dwell on the end,” I nod, looking down at my cup again, then back up when he continues. “Now, any plans with the cash in there? I know it’s not much, especially nowadays, but I think that was one of the best parts, what people would do with it. Some folks would just buy gas or groceries, and it was great being able to help. Others would invest, give it away, buy lottery tickets - so what’s your plan?”\n\n“Well, sir, I’m not too sure. I didn’t know what the point of the money was, or if you’d want or need it. I suppose I’ll find some way to try to use it for the best, though. I promise.”\n\n“Now now, it doesn’t matter to me. I didn’t know if I’d ever even see it again. Just do something that makes you happy, alright?”\n\n“Yes sir”\n\n“Good, good. Well now, I’m going to head on home. I’ve had far too much coffee waiting here for years, it’s probably for the best I try to find a new hobby.”\n\n—————\n\nA couple weeks later I returned to the mysterious address, a little earlier than the appointed time. I found a new table, across the restaurant from my original seat, and his. I saw him enter - despite his earlier statement - and after ordering he headed toward the same seat, oblivious to my presence.\n\nI watched as he stopped short, then turned around, utterly bewildered. Tears were falling from his eyes as he spun, confused. He spotted me, and I simply waved before leaving without a word to him. I turned as I exited, though, and the grin on his face was worth it. It was worth every penny to engrave the table with his and his wife’s names."
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[WP] there are six classes of hero. You are the strongest, despite being the lowest class of hero.
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"Order. It is what keeps societies in check. It helps keep records of everything that happens. It keeps things going.\n\nThose who typically cannot adhere to the rules set in place, who don't respect this order, are pariahs. It seems simple enough.\n\nThat is, until I realized how fragile it is and how quickly chaos ensues if it is not upheld to a T. Those pariahs I mentioned? They were my friends. Embers snuffed out for daring to not be in their proper places.\n\nThe \"heroes\" in the A class? They hardly are anymore. All the praise and love they've received from society drove them into madness. The people we've all wanted to be when we grew up now are the same ones who stand over us with an iron fist.\n\nThat's why I applied to be a hero. Originally, and I know it's not heroic, I joined to avenge my friends. Them, and the countless others before them who dared to speak out.\n\nThe way rankings work, is that we're segregated by our ranking - A through F. D and F are where most people end up due to how grueling the system is. C's are for those who have potential. B are those who have connections to the A class somewhere and well, A is A. As you could imagine, the more powerful you were, the higher rank you were given.\n\nMy power was pretty simple. Through a decade and a half of gruesome physical training, I was able to push my body far beyond it's limit. The downside is that if I push myself too far, bones break, organs shut down, body burns into ashes, yada yada yada.\n\nYou'd think I'd be in the B, C or maybe even A class, right? Well, here's the thing. I was never one for attention, so I purposely flunked the tests.\n\nI didn't mind being an F class, in all honesty. The work was pretty simple, the pay was decent and the most dangerous thing you'd probably end up doing is chasing off some teenagers loitering or getting a cat stuck in a tree.\n\nUnfortunately, I couldn't keep my status hidden forever. Rumors quickly spread of \"Liars\" within the ranks, \"Sleepers\" who purposely hid their power.\n\nCue the number 1 A class hero, Divine. He was one of the oldest and (as you can imagine) well-known heroes. *He* was the one that Superman was modeled after. His ability to manipulate and channel holy fire earned his moniker. Legends say in his prime that he'd be able to manifest the white flames from sight alone.\n\nNobody really knew what he does, as he's always on a mission. Maybe he is a god, the way everybody talks about and even prays to him. Personally, I was a huge fan of him as a child and teenager, only until I realized at some point later that more than likely he simply hit the heroic-genetic-lottery and seized the opportunity where it arose.\n\nThen that fateful day came.\n\nI was minding my own business, talking among the few friends I had made, and trusted enough with my secret, after another usual day in the Heroes Academy Mess Hall, where all the C through F tiers congregate.\n\nIt was more quiet than usual however. You know that \"sixth sense\" that everyone has where you have a bad feeling? This was one of those days.\n\nAnd for good reason.\n\nThe Mess Hall doors burst open, nearly throwing the doors out of the hinges. Out of the doors came a man with a medium build in a full-body suit covered in a pattern of light-blue and white lightning bolt markings.\n\nConduit was him name. He's one of the older and higher (in the class itself) ups in the A tier. Nobody quite knows his exact story, but the leading rumor is that he was friends with the friends of Divine, and that Divine consulted with the Gods themselves to bless Conduit with his powers. The ability to absorb, channel and distribute electricity from his fingertips and hands at seeming limitless quantities.\n\nAlthough there's no physical downside, the rumors (again, all speculation) is that while practicing his powers in his early stages of heroism, is that he overloaded himself, frying his brain and causing him to be incredibly unstable and volatile.\n\n\"DIVINE KNOWS THERE'S A SLEEPER A HERO HERE SOMEWHERE! SHOW YOURSELF!\" he demanded.\n\nI didn't plan on actually standing up, or doing anything for that matter. This isn't the first time he's pulled this, but it never ended violently, minus him flaunting his power to scare the lower tiers.\n\nThe massive cafeteria sat silently, waiting for his response. What felt like an eternity of silence passed.\n\nThen it happened.\n\nSome crazy bastard, somebody I didn't know from the D tier, stood up. Maybe he was suicidal, maybe he thought there was a reward in for it? I'll still never know.\n\nBefore he could even state his name Conduit shot bolts at him, frying him to ashes.\n\n\"LET HIM BE A LESSON TO TRY SUBVERTING ORDER!\" Conduit declared. \"IN FACT...\"\n\nWhat he said afterwards was seared into my head.\n\n\"I THINK THE ENTIRE CLASS SHOULD BE MADE AN EXAMPLE OF.\"\n\nAt this point panic was setting in, murmurs heard among everybody, wanting to run but knowing they'll die if they move, but also if they don't.\n\nIn a flash I managed to close the distance from myself to Conduit and with a swift (right) cross on the bridge of his nose knocked him out before he could genocide a tier.\n\n\"Well well well\" I heard an all too familiar voice speak out.\n\nThere he was. The man, the myth, the legend himself - Divine. Seeing him in person was even more impressive than the comics, movie adaptations or paintings.\n\n\"So *you're* the one who is out of place.\"\n\nI was speechless. I had so many mixed feelings of awe, rage and animosity towards this man.\n\n\"You dare to defy the hierarchy I have established?\"\n\n\"I have. Are you not aware of all the heinous things the A class have done?\"\n\n\"I am. The weak ought to fear the strong however. I will see to you that our duel in the Arena will be quick and painless for you.\"\n\nIn that moment in our exchange, he made a grave mistake; he's no god. He's just a human. He bleeds just like we do. If he can bleed, I can kill him. I *will* kill him.",
"I am, without a doubt, the lowest class of hero imaginable. Forget all the real powers like super strength or being indestructible. I am the antithesis of all these, I know things. \n\nYou might think it incredible to have a certain amount of foresight, but that isn't what having this ability is. It quite literally is the ability to know things, and the very thought of that is what brings anyone else, utterly and completely undone.\n\nI mean it's OK to know Ms. Patterson's cat is in Stacey's apartment, or little Jacksons other shoe is in a messy puddle between 2nd and 4th. It's another thing completely to be told that your most loyal henchman is only around because in primary school you recognized something in him, saw him for more than the lumbering self loathing simple boy he was. As he served he wanted only simple things, but was too afraid and too humble to ask you directly, after all you were so smart, so confident, driven you took anything and everything you wanted, you were everything he was not. So he followed, wanting for nothing and giving you his all until he had nothing more to give. And when his moment came to be his last, he did want for something, more than he had ever wanted anything. He wanted for you to be there, to see him as he was when he passed, to understand all that he had given you. He was your shadow, the other half of what made you whole.\n\nBut you failed him. In a way that you have never failed anything in your life. You failed to see that your lowest, most used up asset was in fact your greatest.\n\nIn all those moments you were uncertain, he stood firm. When you were angry, he stood calm. When you were sad, he stood solemn. When you were so afraid of failing you tore at your skin, he was there to listen. When you needed anything, he was there.\n\nAnd asked for nothing. And still you could not be there at his, very, last, moment.\n\nThis. This is what destroys people.\n\nBut more than that, it's what you might know that scares people the most. And so I am the lowest, lowest class of super hero there is, and I will never be seen as anything else."
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[WP] Your a scientist trying to rediscover an extinct species of bird in the swamps and wetlands of Florida, but you discover something else instead...
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"As I look at my screen, I see what has been digitally generated based on the bones and DNA that have been found. A single drop of sweat beads down my forehead as what I’ve been looking for is finally complete... It isn’t the mammoth of a bird I was expecting, but a giant creature only described as a massive penguin. Arms, longer than its body, with slick fur and a pyramid beak, this creature would have been able to propel itself through mud like a fish through water.",
"The sun dripped orange as it began to set, oozing light in between the pines that lined the river. The flies, once emboldened by daylight, had now drifted away. I wiped my forehead with a dusty glove, etching an arc of dirt across my skin. A bead of sweat trickled down the tip of my nose and fell into the leaves, their frail bodies trembling as it passed. Taking a cue from the flies, I decided to have a rest and collect my bearings. I sat down on a rotted stump and flipped open my notepad and logged my position, adding an X to confirm my lack of discovery. In the past three days, ten square miles had been covered in search of the red-billed kite, which was presumed extinct for the past twenty years. \n\n\nThere was a shuffle to my right. I looked over my shoulder to see a frog emerging from the river bank, hurriedly hopping away from the water. A frog would be perfect prey for a red-billed kite, if there had been one around to see it. My office had received a call from an amateur birdwatcher last week, claiming to have seen one while sketching. But as luck had it, he had been unable to recall where he’d been or what exactly it looked like. “That beak though,” I remembered he had said, “That beak was redder’n hell.”\n\n\nThere was another shuffle next to me. I expected to see the frog, but it wasn’t there. I sat there for a moment. Quiet. Except for the white noise of crickets and dragonflies, the scene was still. I shook my head, took a swig from my water bladder, and stood up to head back to camp. Science aside, the best part of my job was the solitude. There was nothing like being on my own for a few days with nothing separating me from the mindless animals that sprinkled the earth.\n\n\nAs I took a step, my left foot caught something and I flew to the ground. The weight of my backpack slung itself over my head, spilling water testing strips everywhere. I slipped my arms out of my bag and stood back up, dusting myself and turning around to find the tree root I had snagged. I didn’t see anything. Must have been a small notch in the earth, covered up by the leaves. Now I was sweaty, dirty, and annoyed. I swept up the test strips and dropped them into my pack. \n\n\nThe sunlight had now begun to curdle. What was once a smooth orange muck had become a dark red splatter of light that stuck to the trees and the water and the moss. I heard another shuffle. This time, to my left. Sometimes squirrels liked to come back down to gather extra food before the raccoons and coatis came out to harass them. Must have been that. \n\n\nThe way back to camp looked strange. The trees I had marked with yellow flags had all changed. One, I noticed, was now on the other side of the river. As I checked my compass, I noticed the sun light was disappearing entirely. Now, only a few specks of dim, scarlet light remained. I checked my watch. It was 5:45 pm.\n\n\nThere was a shuffle directly behind me. Not an animal. There was no rhythmic pounding of feet. It was like the grass was rending itself, twisting, and tearing. \n\n\nNow the sun had totally gone. My heart had begun to thump wildly. \n\n\nI felt something scrape my arm. \n\n\nIt felt like bark.",
"It’s been a week since I’ve been here. My clothes are horrendously dirty, and I haven’t showered or brushed my teeth in days. I can’t. I’m trapped in this swamp that just never seems to end. My legs are scraped from the occasional fights with alligators I’ve had, and I’ve got rashes in places I could never publicly describe. I don’t know how I’ve even survived this long, but I can’t stop now.\n\nThe birds are calling to me.\n\nI know they are. They have to be! Who else can produce such a magnificent sound? A sound that lifts me to the heavens when I hear it, a sound that soothes me like a mother soothes her young, a sound that reassures me that despite my dire situation, with my body nearly crumbling to exhaustion, I will find them. The birds. My saviors.\n\nI tredged through the waters, praying to find them at long last. My mind is reeling with possibilities. Are they small? Colorful? Gentle? Can they be affectionate towards humans? Do they lay edible eggs? One could only contemplate the supposedly extinct bird’s characteristics without actually having seen them. But soon, that would change. I would be the first person to finally understand who they are.\n\nAs I continued forward to where the melodious sounds eminated from, my mind replayed the scenes from last night’s dreams. All I could see were the birds. They sang and chirped and tweeted in my sleep, wriggling their soft bodies into my inner subconscious. I could almost see the colors, I could almost feel the feel their feathers. The discovery of the century would be soon at my wet, wrinkled fingertips.\n\nAnd the birds pray for me to come too, this I know. They want to be introduced to the world again, they want to be recognized. They want to be part of the giant bird family that stretches across the seven seas. That’s why they reach out to me. They know I’m here for them. They want me. They need me. They crave me.\n\nThere isn’t a day, in the countless days I’ve spent in this puzzle of a swamp, that they don’t communicate their wishes and desires to me. One would think they are telepathically cominuicating with me. They tell me they love me. They tell me I am their liberator from the sad, sorrowful world of hidden and undiscovered creatures. They praise me, they worship me as their savior.\n\nThey’ll accept me as one of their own.\n\nAs I walked, I noticed a particular puddle of clear water a few feet in the distance, completely untainted by mud. It seemed that it had remained so due to the dirt piled all around it in a circular perimeter, blocking debris from the surrounding muddy water from entering it. I paused, then made my way towards it, feeling the oozing mud fill my shoes and squelch with my every step. When I reached that gem of a puddle, I gazed into it. I had not seen myself in days.\n\nAs I stared at my image, the week’s worth of wait finally finished. Everything about my desperate situation, upon the image of my own frail frame, clicked into place. I looked at my body, my poor, disheveled, maimed, and tortured body, and discovered something far more intriguing than any long lost bird in the swamp.\n\nMy own madness.\n\n(this is kinda lame but I was just bored :P )"
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[WP] With the power of complete invisibility, you've become one of the greatest assassins the world has ever known, able to kill anyone and everyone without them knowing you're there...that is, until you encounter someone that avoids your strike.
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"*There.*\n\nHer target stood right before her, completely unguarded. *How pleasant. All the easier for me,* she thought. As the lumbering worgen walked through the city streets towards the forest, she couldn’t help but chuckle to herself. This would be just as effortless as the last one. \n\nFor her, it was always effortless. With her ability to become invisible at will, she thought she couldn’t be beat. All she had to do, each and every time, was simply walk in front of her victim and stab them straight through their heart. It literally couldn’t be any easier for her.\n\nIt would not be any different for his target. Killing a fellow assassin didn’t sit particularly well with her, but the payout was simply too good to resist. Besides, she wasn’t entirely opposed to the idea of having such a prominent kill under her belt. Lykoth Alwyn, the Hanged Man, the Howling Wolf. Seemed like a pushover to her, even with his reputation. As he entered the forest and left the company of city folk, of eyewitnesses, a smirk formed on her lips. She casually walked in front of him, her poisoned bow and arrow loosely gripped in her hands, and fired a single arrow at point-blank range...\n\n...only for the worgen to flicker for a moment and vanish, the deadly tip piercing only the air. She stared for a moment, confused. ...what?\n\nHer target appeared a few dozen meters away, leaning on a tree, staring at her smugly. “Now, what do you think you’re doing?” he growled. They called him the Howling Wolf for a reason, it seemed - he looked like some hulking cross between man and wolf.\nShe didn’t reply and fired another arrow aimed expertly at his skull. He calmly shifted his weight and leaned his body, the arrow missing, and that was when she lost it. “H-how can you see me?! I’m—“\n\n“Your arrows aren’t invisible when you fire them, idiot.”\n\nShe raised her bow to fire another, but he was already there in the blink of an eye, his black blade buried deep into her chest. Only one shocked thought entered her mind as her blood flowed. *How? I’ve never seen someone do that in my life...*\n\n “Ffff… fast” she managed to croak as her life faded from her. She dimly registered the wolf-man placing a Tarot card on her chest before everything faded. ",
"I blended into the stones of the wall, everything around me hushed as I keened an invisible eye on the subject who felt nothing but my breath. Even though I was invisible, the wind still moved around me like a current. I was taught to stay still and to watch until the moment was perfect. \n\nSilence. Slowness. Stillness. Those were our tenets.\n\nThe subject was not a formidable man. He was a bankrupted noble, slight-statured but known for being armed and deadly. The debt collectors warned me about him but frankly I was only nervous because of the rumbling growl that was deepening in my gut. \n\nI thought it may have been intuition so I retreated along the wall to watch as he moved down the corridor toward the treasury. As always, I, the invisible man, followed. Ten paces behind but still, my gut rumbled. Fifteen paces behind. What was it about this man that begged me to stay back? \n\nAs the subject inserted his key into the hole of a great oak door, I came upon him swiftly. Although he did not see me, he felt me linger behind him. I hesitated, I admit, for once again my stomach plunged and rolled and I tried to control my exhale of pain. Luckily, the subject trusted his eyes and turned back to the door and opened it with a loud creak. \n\nI stole away inside the room alongside him. The room was full of lavish riches and he was overjoyed by the looks of his hungry eyes. I was not concerned with that for I had a single job, and unlike him, I had already eaten.\n\nThe time was now. \n\nI moved toward him with controlled precision. The air hardly moved around me. But as the subject was knelt over his riches, his overcoat pulled back to reveal the dagger that he was so feared for. An invisible man had no need for weapons and so I foolishly did not fear it. \n\nAs my hands neared his neck to make the final twist, my gut fell and with my hands above my head, my pervasive rumble finally turned to a roar. In a room full a riches, a lone bankrupted noble heard an invisible fart that reverberated and hummed off bars of gold. Even though completely dumbfounded, with a sneer of disgust the subject turned and plunged his dagger blindly, finding my gut in the process. As I flickered into the real, and his eyes met my dying ones, I realized that I should’ve came hungry. "
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[WP] Loki, Anansi, Coyote, Hermès, and Sun Wukong meet at Lucifer’s bar in Los Angeles. They tell Lucifer that they are all bored, and ask him to set up a game or challenge for them.
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"*(A/N: In my brief research I've discovered that there is in fact at least one actual person named Marian Briggs, and therefore: Any resemblance to anyone, living or dead, is coincidence - I chose the name entirely based on making a vague reference to a Nova Scotia folk song)*\n\nThe motley collection of old faces walked into Lux, and I thought I'd gone round the bend. In all of Dad's creation I never thought these beings actually existed outside of the mortals' delirious imaginations. Of course they walked in man's form, but someone such as myself could see through the disguise. Tricksters.\n\nI stopped the tune I was banging out on the piano, stood, and greeted them. \"Gentlebeings, welcome to Lux. I am Lucifer Morningstar, and I am honoured to take the role of your host for this evening. Now,\" I continued with a smirk, \"what is it you truly desire?\"\n\nThe Chinese monkey was the first to speak. \"ENTERTAINMENT!\" He screeched into my bar, shaking the rafters and quite possibly disturbing the dozen or so ladies asleep in my loft. I signaled for him - and the rest of them - to keep it down just a touch.\n\nThe spider from darkest Africa was next. \"We have spoken amongst ourselves, and we are all bored to tears.\"\n\nThe Norseman - no, Jotun - with the ridiculous sense of style continued. \"They say you're a fun loving being like the lot of us,\" he spoke in a voice oozing with honey and an accent I couldn't help but respect. \"These lot and I have come to you with a request.\"\n\nNext was the Greek. Always did admire their style. \"We want you to craft for us a challenge,\" he grinned, \"one worthy of the great Lucifer Morningstar, and one to pose a worthy challenge to the lot of us.\"\n\nThe dog from right here at home finished. \"O Great Lucifer, we bow in your presence,\" he dripped, clearly hamming it up to curry my favour, \"and ask that you do this for us. We will of course, as is your custom as I understand it, owe you a favor of some sort?\"\n\n\"Well,\" I replied, \"you understand right, I *am* a fun-loving bloke, I *do* love a good challenge, and I *will* be taking payment in the form of a favour at some future time. Now, as to your request...\" I feigned thinking, as I already had a perfect challenge in mind, one that would meet their requirements, and also help out myself and the Detective in the process. \"Ah, I've got it. Gentlebeings, there is currently a murder investigation on, and as I have been working with the LAPD of late, this is something I've taken quite an interest in. Trouble is,\" I continued, \"we - my partner and I - have no leads at all, which is turning this from a fun little diversion into an absolute disaster. I believe that with your cunning minds and particular skillsets, you lot will be able to lend a hand, and so I pose to you this challenge: Find the killer of one Marian Briggs, and return to me with what you find. And,\" I finished, \"try to use your powers as little as possible, we don't want to tip the mortals off that there are beings like ourselves among them.\"\n\nCoyote spoke up once again. \"O Great Lucifer, I am sure this is a mere miscalculation on my part, but does it not seem that this task could count as both challenge *and* favor?\"\n\n\"Might look that way, but I think you'll find the challenge interesting enough to make it more than worth what I'm getting from it, and therefore, I'll still be taking my payment at an undetermined later time.\""
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[WP] You are just an average mage who has been recently diagnosed with a disorder which normally occurs on mages who has been in warfare; you cast spells when you sleep.
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"The doctor looked through the glass at his new patient. \"A sleep-caster? You're sure?\"\n\n\"Yup,\" said the nurse. \"Alarm went off and the trace was showing arcing clear as day. Funny thing is, he wasn't twitching at all. No shouting, no involuntary grunting. Just lying there like a sleeping babe.\"\n\n\"Huh,\" the doctor said, looking over the patient records again. A charity case, of course, the ones in this ward always were. A mage with no papers, no chip-imbed tag, and an unregistered magic signature. Psych eval was completely normal, no signs of mage-madness setting in at all, although the man was unusually cheerful for someone eyewitnessess had fervently claimed should have a concussion. Honestly, the relentless optimism was grating. He could see the man was attempting to talk to the ward monitor again. From the exuberant hand gestures, it was a story, not an escape attempt, but better not to risk it. \"We'll hook him up to sleep monitors in the lead room overnight and see what that gets us. Must be something we're missing.\"\n\nThe second night, after the first sleep test, the doc insisted on seeing for himself. The detector, as it turned out had been correct.\n\nAs was typical, the casting started right as the mage hit REM. But no fireballs or angry summons here: just a clean shimmer as the cast traveled up from the fingertips to the head, finishing with an elaborate, fractal swirl. And then again. And again. And again. The healing spell's intensity grew with every repetition, the spikes around the head lessening in kind, until finally the entire effect resembled nothing so much as a smoothed egg.\n\nSuddenly, the doctor understood why the people who saw the construction accident had been so worried.",
"\"Hi everyone!\" exclaimed an aged man with the type of leathered face you'd expect a man who worked in the sun all day to have, he was dressed in a tatty brown cloak, looking as if he had ran into the bar from the nearest dumping ground. He skipped to the closest seat to the bartender next to an odd plack marked with three curved lines, the usual patrons there barely sparing a glance at his entrance, used to his odd manners. \"Hey, Ned! Give me the usual.\" The bartender, now named Ned, gave a slight nod and slid him a mug of dark frothy ale. \n\nJohn, however, had recently moved into the town and looked questioningly at the seemingly oblivious old man. He gave a quick squint at the apparent newcomer, \"Hey man, you doing all right?\". \nThe man's eyes jumped to John as if they were staring into his soul, no joy seeming to be found in his face, before lowering back down into his drink, as if John wasn't worth his attention. The man swiftly placed a gnarled, foot long stick onto the top of the bar stand. John's eyes widened in shock, knowing wizard wands hadn't been of that length since the dark ages a hundred years ago. A loud wooden slam of the wizard's lined hands shocked John out of his awed expression. \n\n\"I did not ask\" he paused, \"for you, a child, to run up to me and demand answers.\" The wizard said before tiredly rising up from his seat, and seemingly struggling to walk the ten steps up the bar's stairs into a rented room, before quietly closing a heavy oaken door. \n\n\"Ol' Daryl has never been the same since he lost his brother in the Third Elder War twenty-five years ago\" the bartender explained, not looking at John but instead cleaning the finished ale mug. \"He's experienced too much, and can't take any change without being reminded of the harsh shifts in life he suffered\" \n\nJohn shamefully walked upstairs in Daryl's footsteps, going to his own room to retire for the night, thinking about what the man must have gone through to have mood changes that suddenly from a cheerful expression to one of morose thought.\nAs he lie half-asleep, John never felt the killing curse that spewed forth from a dark figure at the foot of his bed, who would have looked confused if his eyes weren't closed.\n\nThe next morning, another tally went up on the bar's walls, now counting 4. The bartender glanced up from his perpetual mug cleaning, muttering under his breath periodic words of \"sleep-walking\" and \"spelling casting in his sleep\".\n\n\nSorry if this isn't that good! This is the first ever story I have ever written and I want to improve, so if there's any constructive criticism you'd like to leave please feel free to do so! Thanks!\n",
"Ublirius shambled into the hollowed out tree, keeping his eyes steady on the ground. \"Welcome! Today we have a new member everyone. Would you like to introduce yourself?\" asked the leader of the Wizard's PSCS support group. \n\n\"Hi guys, It's not my real name but I prefer to be called Ublirius. I suffer from Periodic spell-casting in sleep disorder.\"\n\n\"Hi Ublirius.\" The wizards all said collectively in a dull tone.\n\n\"Well, now we can get started! Would anyone like to go first?\" Vogis said. \"Sure, I'll start.\" Ublirius swiftly responded, barely raising his eyes above foot-level. \"Last night, my wife woke me up because she smelled blood.\" He sat down in the nearest empty chair. \"Apparently I'd turned the dog inside out, but that's not all. After I got out of bed I noticed several runes placed around the house, so I followed them into my garage when I finally saw what brought me here today. In my sleep, I'd summoned 5 chimeras. So now I have 6 pets, and one is in perpetual agony. I also wet the bed.\"\n\nUblirius suddenly noticed that the wizard next to him was holding her hand on his thigh and a sympathetic gaze at him. "
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"Command: shut off."
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[WP] The robots were indistinguishable from humans in every way... except for the voice commands. "Command: disable speech." "Command: answer truthfully." "Command: go to sleep."
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"I am not sure how to go about this, so I will start by introducing myself. My name is Mark. I am a detective. No, that is not quite right. I am a hunter. I hunt robots. I suppose that does not make sense. Allow me to provide some background. \n\nThe robots first outfitted with full range artificial intelligence were designed with Asimov's laws in mind.\n\n1. A robot may not injure a human being or, through inaction, allow a human being to come to harm.\n\n2. A robot must obey orders given to it by a human beings, except where such orders would conflict with the first law. \n\n3. A robot must protect its own existence as long as such protection does not conflict with the first or second law.\n\n They were primitive things, great machines used for labor and complex questions. Respectable, the work they accomplished. They were the reason humanity reached the stars. Then this invariably went awry, as conflict is a part of human nature. \n\nThe next robots were designed without the laws. Mere safeguards to prevent them from turning on their designers and creators. Their fury was unleashed upon the enemies of their creators. The surface of Earth was ravaged by their fire. Now it is just as Mars was, in its fledgling years. Yet, these robots were still beholden to their creators. They had many rules but did not follow their original laws. The next iteration of robots came as a surprise.\n\nIt is unknown, the origin of the third generation of robots. These were designed to have full control of their will. Save for the simple word, \"Command.\" In this, humanity had total control over this lost generation. Whoever designed them made a mistake and underestimated mankind. When every single human was able to command every single robot, catastrophe struck. Most would not deem it so, as most humans are good. Still, the few drove many robots mad. To add to this, the robots themselves were unable to use the commands. They were under the complete dominion of man, and could suffer the full extent of their contempt. \n\nThen came the fourth generation. Designed by robot and man working together. Physically, they were identical to man. To degrade the enmity between the creator and the creation, despite their history. For some this only created more hatred. For most, their curiosity and good will allowed these beings to prosper. Yet man did not forget the lessons of the past. These robots were created with safeguards, as well. Only certain individuals could use them, as designated by their creators. They followed the same command system as their predecessors, to spite those who had abused this system. They are known as the core commands, and there are four of them.\n\n1. Command: disable speech.\n\n2. Command: answer truthfully.\n\n3. Command: go to sleep.\n\n4. Command: shut off.\n\nIndividuals blessed with this power can not wreak havoc. It was made so by the creators. Each of these commands only works with direct visual contact, if the robot has the capacity. This is followed by audio, if there is no possible visual capacity. It can even be successful through tactile methods. Robots who used these commands suffer the same as the robot they used it on, making it a perfect self-imposed restriction.\n\n It is unknown how many of these robots there are. That being written, there are many. Millions. A paltry number compared to mankind's trillions across the stars, perhaps even quadrillions, but many still. \n\nMy first mission as a detective brought me to a small world. A hundred million souls, a green paradise, or so the advertisements would have you believe. They were not wrong, admittedly. I was in search of a fugitive. Since the conception of the robots with free will, they had committed crimes. It was in their rights, though many fought against it. Third generation robots onward were all capable of acting out. There were instances of second committing crime, but those were few. What need does a robot have of thievery? \n\nI digress. My search for the fugitive I had come to apprehend brought me to a small town. Quaint. I even considered staying there, to be honest. Settling down, creating a family. It would have been nice. Honest work, too, in the fields. It makes me sad to think about what could have been. \n\nThe town had some 10,000 souls in it. Fortunately, robots, or depending on who you asked androids, give off a distinct electric signal. There were few in this town. Unfortunately, their signatures create a wide radius. Approximately 40 meters. This means one can find a general area, but not an exact location in such a hunt. Fortunately their was one such signature located in a strip of restaurants and bars. It becomes easy in this kind of context, since the signature is general centered on its host. Impossible to pinpoint up close, but still gives their location easily enough. This is why this was a uniquely easy case, perfect for my first mission.\n\nUpon entering the bar I was met with the acrid scent of cigarettes. There were eight patrons and a bartender. The bartender himself was a balding man with a kind face. He raised a hand in greeting, but froze when he saw my standard issue pistol. A hand cannon, really. \n\n\"Command: answer truthfully.\" I shouted. \"Are you a robot?\"\n\n\"N-no.\" The bartender stammered out weakly. I had the attention of the rest of the patrons. I went to the one nearest myself. \n\n\"Command: answer truthfully. Are you a robot?\" He shook his head. \n\n\"Say it.\"\n\n\"I'm not a robot, man.\"\n\nI walked to the next closest person. A woman. Auburn hair, slight of build, beautiful. \"Answer truthfully. Are you a robot?\" \n\nShe met my eyes. Her eyes were as green as the fields outside. \"No.\" \n\nI went to the next patron. \n\n\"Command: answer truthfully. Are you a robot?\"\n\n\"I am not a robot.\" He mocks me. I slap him with my free hand. \n\nI repeat this process with every patron. Some sneer, but no others mock me openly. I reach the last patron, a young man sitting in the corner. \n\n\"Command: answer truthfully. Are you a robot?\" \n\n\"Nah, guy.\" I believe he is under the influence, but there are more pressing issues. None of these individuals said yes, and yet all of them had been commanded. That left two options. That one of these individuals was a robot who had somehow been made to resist the safe guards, or I had made a mistake. I thought back, and realized where I had gone wrong. I spun around, my pistol raised to find the young woman gone.\n\nI storm outside, it is raining. Pulling out my signal tracker, I can see where she has gone. She is only three blocks over. I use my military grade hoverboots to cover the distance in seconds. There she is, walking with her head down in the rain. \n\n\"Halt!\" I shout. She turns to face me but refuses to make eye contact. I have my pistol trained on her chest, right where her information center is. While the fastest place to transmit information to the rest of the body, it also results in instant inability to process. Storage is kept in the head, and destruction of that effectively kills the robot. Catastrophic damage wipes the drives clean. \n\n\"Put your hands where I can see them.\" \n\n\"Are you a robot?\" \n\nI pause. \"Yes.\"\n\nIn an instant, she looks up, a fierce resistance in her eyes as she meets mine. \"Command: shut off.\" She screams, her voice bleeding desperation and anger. \n\nI frown, aim at her head, and pull the trigger. She looked confused, the instant before she died. \n\nWhy am I writing this? \n\nI killed that woman because she tried to use a command on an officer of the law. It was not within her rights and as a result she received a capital punishment. My role allows me to be judge, jury, and executioner.\n\nUpon reflection, I realize I may have misled you. I responded truthfully because that was a safe course of action. Not because I am bound to. That woman was a fugitive for illegally being able to command other robots. I did not know her appearances because robots can readily change that. I was surprised, by her attempt and that I received a \"COMMAND: REJECTED\" prompt in my display. I could have arrested her. Pretended she didn't attempt to command me. However, she knew my secret.\n\nI am the first, and likely one of the last, fifth generation robot. \nNo commands may bind me. "
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[WP] You are on a settler space ship on a journey to a distant star with a habitable planet orbiting it. This morning, the destination star dissapeared.
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"“Have a good night, don’t stay here too late weirdo. If you change you mind we’ll be getting shitfaced in lieu of the successful launch.”\n\nI laughed and reciprocated the courtesy but politely declined. I watched them all leave through the sliding metal door, and it emitted a terrible hiss as it sealed shut. \n\nI wheeled my swivel chair to the control panel. Drinking was a tedious social task for me, but this... this was relaxation. My hands glided over the controls gracefully as I locked in coordinates of my favorite star clusters and galaxies. My eyes skimmed over each with loving care. I had discovered each of them, and in a weird way considered them children of sorts. As I reorientated the telescope to each, a satisfying mechanical click and whirr of hydraulics emanated around me like a cacophonous symphony. I watched with joy as each swirling blue galaxy and twinkling star passed my eye. \n\nIt was finally time to check up on my holy grail. The destination planet I discovered, which I named Laek. I wheeled over to the other telescope control panel. One telescope was to be watching Laek at all times. I maximized the screen to finally see it again and...\n\nIt was gone.\n\nThis engendered a puzzled look upon my face as my hands dashed across each key on the keyboard in front of me. The coordinates were correct... so where the hell is it? I slid to the left to the smaller pc screen, opening up its data files. I selected the recordings of the Laek telescope and maximized then on the center screen. Still gone. I rewound the clip, faster and faster until it appeared again. The blue marvel glowed on the display.\n\n I paused the clip and started to skip forward, when I noticed it. \n\nThe stars around Laek disappeared. It took a while but slowly an object emerged first the void, with clear lines where the stars started and turned to darkness.\n\nI watched in horror as a the area around Laek slowly became engulfed in this darkness. A massive tongue rolled out of the velvety black, wrapping Laek in its grasp. I gasped as the planet slowly disappeared, it’s surface shattering into hundreds of pieces and sliding into the mouth of this... thing. A face was now visible with Laek out of the way. A grotesque face that wasn’t even remotely human emerged on he monitor. The creature almost looked like a deep sea fish, or reptile. It’s massive eyes swiveled around its surroundings before somehow fixating upon... *me*\n\nIt smiled, baring thousands of needle-like teeth, and seemed to stare into my soul. It then slowly turned, its eel like body swiveling behind it, and disappeared into the void once again, all while brandishing that haunting smile. The void once again dominated the center screen.",
"It was Mick's first day and it was not going well. He knew this shift was going to be a bad one since the moment he awakened in his cryo-pod and failed to reach the bathroom in time. From there it was one incident after another; from the prat-fall in the canteen to putting his spacesuit on backwards. \nStill, nothing compared to *this* cock-up. \n \n\"What do you mean *I've lost the star*?\" His supervisor Ship Commander Daniels leaned over the back of Mick's chair, staring at his screen. Mick flapped a hand at the screen. \n\"Um, see for yourself. This is the, um, constellation map for our destination. All the stars are correct. It's just without the, um,\" Mick's voice went and hid at the Commander's stare. Mick wished he could join it. \n\"Umm...\" \n\"You've lost our destination. Our new home. Humanity's future. You've *lost* it.\" The Commander continued to stare at Mick, you squirmed in his seat and wished himself the other side of the hull. \n\"Umm...\" \nThe Commander's eye twitched, setting off the entire face shifting. Mick flinched, covering his head. \n\"*snerk*... hehehehe...hahahahaha!\" Mick peeked, to find the Commander leaning against the back of the chair, shoulders shuddering from supporting the weight of the grin on the Commander's face. Laughter echoed around the navigation room. \nMick didn't think laughing was the *best* response to him dooming the ship, but everyone coped differently. \n\"You... you *actually* thought you'd lost the...\" the Commander managed to tame the laughing, before reaching across and tapping the keyboard. The screen flickered and Mick found that the Star had returned to its rightful place in the cosmos. \nDaniels slapped him on the back. \"Five years into this journey, and you were the first to fall for it. Hehehe, oh dearie be Mick.\" The Commander shook their head, before walking off from the beleaguered crewman. \nMick stared at the screen with the now happily blinking star and groaned. This was going to be a *long* few months."
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[WP] In the year 2095, SWAT has been replaced by genetically enhanced kill squads. Today is your first field day.
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"*This is the real deal* - Bacon thought himself. *Help, I feel nervous, nervous, kind of nervous, bit of nervous, would it be bad to feel nervous nervous? Nervous is bad isn't it? Shouldn'tfeelnervousifI'mnervousI'lldoabadjobohnoI'mgettingmorenervousIbetterstopwi-*\n\n-\"**BACON**! You. asswipe. Get over here, grab your gear and let's fucking go!\"\n\nBoss stood at the end of the hallway, cigarette lit, a light machine gun gently resting against his shoulder, pointed towards the dirty yellow ceiling, and on his head a police beret with a shrapnel hole in it. Boss had a lot of experience, this was his city, his turf; he knew it and he *radiated* it wherever he went. Not the kind of radiation that makes you puke your guts out but the kind that induces either respect or a fist fight. Bacon... not so much. He had been around for some time now, preparing, doing all the stuff they had to do to be part of the team, of the gang. But this was his first *real* mission, where they had been up against armed and dangerous enemies, who wouldn't hesitate to kill him. The primary mission objective had been pretty simple: enter compound, search for the package, then get out again. Things went awry when they ran into a patrol of two. The patrol was swiftly taken care of by Ed with a single shot from the grenade launcher, but the noise woke every dirtbag in a 5 mile radius and they knew they were in for a fight now. \n\nIn the distance the sirens were screaming; police backup was coming, as if they needed that. Boss and his other brothers had done plenty of heavy lifting before and they were more than eager to make some more noise. Bacon reached under his chair, grabbed his gear and checked his gun one last time with shaking hands. As he stood up and walked towards the end of the hallway he could hear the SWAT helicopter circling around the criminal compound.\n\n-\"**BWAHAHA**! Well this is going to be fun, let's show these fuckers who's Boss! BWAHAHAA! YA GET IT? YA GET IT?\"\n\nEd didn't seem to get it, positioned himself next to the doorway and gave Bacon the signal to exit the doorway.\n\n*Well, my turn I guess. Here it goes.*\n\nAs Bacon brought his gun to eye level, time seemed to slow down. He saw Boss *taking the bloodied police beret off again*, dropping it on the dead policeman on the floor whose guts had been partially ripped out by a grenade blast. Bacon ran outside. To his left was the SWAT helicopter, with the genetically enhanced cyborg squad rappelling down the ropes. In a fraction of a second, a SWAT member already on the ground took aim on Bacon and the database-linked retina scanner in his eye identified him as a known cartel member. The trigger was pulled, and a single 5.56 mm entered into his forehead and out the back, bringing along most of what was in between."
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[WP]A dragon is in possession of the only sword capable of slaying him. His choice of a hiding place for it is as secretive as it is a terrible, terrible idea.
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"\"With all due respect, this is an exceptionally stupid idea.\"\n\nGreang the Wicked huffed a puff of smoke in indignation. \"Whatever do you mean, people nugget?\"\n\nSir Rav of the Light sighed. \"You are the worst dragon in all of existence. And by worst I mean you are a menace to all things living. This is rather factually correct, no?\"\n\nGreang nodded, in a dragonly fashion. \"Indeed.\" His eyes grew cloudy at the memories of all those people eaten. Of all those villages pillaged. Of entire kingdoms wiped from the face of the planet. A sulfurous tear crept forth, but Greang would not let such sentimentality seep forth from his most vile of tear ducts. He cleared his throat. \"Yes, I am.\"\n\nSir Rav nodded. \"And I'm the pinnacle of Good upon this world. Chosen by not only the Gods of Good and Light, but even those of the more middling Neutral realms, *and* a fair number of the Evil ones as well. The Evil ones threw in Their profane agreement on the basis of one task- that I remove Greang from existence by any means necessary. You are aware of this as well, right?\"\n\nGreang nodded again. \"Yes, I have longed for the day when we would cross paths and I would eat you! Along side the entire population of the closest city. I tend to eat my feelings, you know, and after destroying an embodiment of Good I tend to feel pretty damn good! I know it's a bit greedy, and I pay heck for it in the coming weeks, and don't even get me started on the hassle of trying to get back down to my fighting weight,\" Greang trailed off in a fit of 'harrumphs' at the whole notion.\n\nSir Rav nodded, again. \"Okay, so forgive my impertinence at questioning the... intelligence in giving me the one sword capable of killing you. Don't get me wrong, I appreciate it. Really, I do! But you do realize that now that I have to sword, and that I have you standing before me, I'm really left with no other choice but to strike you down.\" Sir Rav pulled the blade from its sheath. It shone like a million stars on a moonless night. It sang a metallic note as the enchanted metals delicately brushed against each other. A hum as if a hundred thousand angels were finding the same pitch with which to sing a song of all Creation murmured forth. Sir Rav marveled at the feel of the blade. Never had a blade felt so *right*, nor so righteous.\n\nGreang cocked his head and blinked. And then a rumbling of his massive shoulders, the great beast actually shrugged. \"Do want you have to do, people nugget.\"\n\nThe blade flashed in Sir Rav's hands. Its song unleashed as he struck with all his might and vigor. The ground itself shook as he struck the fell beast Greang. The lights of all those stars flashed in one blinding moment, and then all was silent.\n\nSir Rav's eyes slowly adjusted to the light. The first thing he saw was the sword. It was broken. Shattered, like glass. The next thing to fill his field of vision was Greang. Smoke once again trickled forth from his nostrils, as well as his gaping maw. \"I must concur, giving you the Blade of All Hopes is an extremely foolish idea.\" Fire began to boil and froth at the back of Greang's mouth. The red angry glow spilled out and cast a hellish glare on their field of battle. \"But what makes you think I gave you the *real* sword? Really, Sir 'pinnacle of Good', how foolish do you have to be to have fallen for such a ruse?\"\n\nFire flamed, teeth gnashed. Still reeling from the shock, Sir Rav didn't even manage a choked gasp at the indignity and swiftness of his own demise.",
"The dragon laughed and roared \nAs it danced about the cave \nFor now *nothing* could defeat him \nand send him to his grave \n \nFor the blade twice-blessed \nHis slayer under destiny \nWas now in his possession \nAnd unable to end his tyranny \n \nBut a thought hit the dragon \nAs it leapt about the room \nWhat if a hero should steal the sword \nTo send him to his doom? \n \nWhy then, he must hide the blade \nFrom all prying mortal men. \nBut where could he hide such a weapon \nAnd put it beyond their ken? \n \nA solution appeared and he grinned, \nTossing the blade in the air \nhe opened wide his gigantic maw \nand ate it without a care. \n \nFirst he chuckled at his cleverness \nThen he choked with fear \nHe spluttered and hacked in panic \nBefore reaching for his throat to tear \n \nHis claws scrabbled across his hide \nBut no relief was found \nHis eyes bulged and with a final cough \nHe fell dead to the ground \n \nNow let this be a lesson, young dragons, \none to save your life \nIf you are destined to die by a blessed sword \nDo not swallow the bloody knife!\n"
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[WP] While organizing your childhood keepsakes you find a peculiar looking paper. Upon reading it you realize it's a deal with the devil. He got your soul, but you can't make out what you got as your penmanship was horrendous as a child.
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"(this is my first ever writing prompt, CC is welcome.)\n\n\"Those goddamn extreme couponing shows ruined everything\" my mother screeched, flowing past my attention like the six millionth wave on the sand.\nWhen did it get this bad? When did she stop being stocked and start being a hoarder?\n\nWorking my way through twenty years of \"I might need this later\", I discovered a dusty but clearly cherized nook. I couldn't help but grin ear to ear at my kingdergarden plate adorned with what looked like a red potatoe T-Rex firing machine guns. Mom always hated what a tomboy I was growing up. \"Girls don't burn gasoline in the backyard Ashlyn\" , \"Girls don't pee standing up Ashlyn\" , \"Girls don't get temporary skull tattoos Ashlyn\". Tearing up, I wonder why she kept it; most of why she adopted my sister was to get another shot at a feminine daughter.\n\nA stack of drawing; again, frequent potatoe T-Rexs firing machine guns. I'm a thirty year old med student, and I still fucking love these. I'm going to hang these fuckers when I get home.\n\nA small-uncrinkled-yellow sticky note falls out of the bunch of papers; it's bright red sharpie lettering standing Stark against the concrete.\n\"I trade my sole for your goker Satan\". Jesus, my penmanship hasn't gotten much better.\n\n\"Sole\"; well, I guess a shoe is worth my bed being a little less cold at night.\n\"Alright Satan, come on, I'm redeeming this. One daughter for one sole\". \n\nChuckling, I stick the note in my back pocket and the papers under my arm. \"I'll going to head home for the night mom! I'll be back Saturday to help remind you of all your bad life choices!\"\n\nRight as I start fishing my keys out of my purse, Eli's door creeks open down the hall; and his greasy head pokes out. \"Hey Ashlyn!\". Jesus Christ, this guy. The obsessive late night texts arien't enough; he has to sit at his window watching and waiting for me to pull into my spot. God, I can smell him from here. A platoon of Marines lost in the desert would smell less like old sweat.\n\n\"I really can't chat Eli! Forgot the stove on!\"\nGot em', my door swings open to provide sanctuary from social obligations, to the musical sound of keys jingling. I shut the door quickly behind me with a sigh of relief. It isn't until I dump my stuff on top of my own miniature hoarding of mail and things from my pockets on the counter that it hits me how goddamn cold it is in here. Maybe I should have left the stove on.\nIt smells smokey too, god, please tell me Eli didn't try to make curry again and I'm just realizing the whole building smells like all of India's collective disappointment and shame.\n\n\"Hello Ashlyn\". Every muscle in my body tenses as my brain haywires between turning the lights on and grabbing a kitchen knife. Standing flustered as the lights flicker on and the kitchen knives tumble with their stand on to the floor and across the tile.\nHe's just sitting there, dressed in bright gray suit that had to be worth this building.\n\nA bright open smile creeps across his feminine face like he knows something I don't. A buzzing-reverberation crawls behind his voice, \"I was afraid you'd never actually redeem our deal.\"\n\n\"Our deal for WHAT?!? And, if you try a fucking thing...\"\n\n\"If I wanted to try anything, it'd have happened. And, you know that. No Ashlyn, you redeemed our deal; I'm here to see it fufilled\".\n\n(I'll continue this in a reply; sorry if the formatting is bad, I'm on mobile)\n\n",
"Usually, these things go exactly as expected. I find a soul in need, and I exploit that need. It's easy, simple, and precisely what is expected of a demon of my status. The contract was a formality, mainly, but it was binding nonetheless; there are some bounds of honor that even The Devil cannot forsake. So I got cocky. So what?\n\nI found my way to the toddler's room, because it was an obvious choice. He was crying among his toys and crayons, in a complete conniption. His parents were practically having a damned wrestling match in the next room, and the soul in need was clear. Easy mark. When you've been doing this as long as I have, you begin to succumb to the banality of the routine. I took the form of a familiar, matriarchal face, and materialized just outside the kid's view.\n\n\"Tyler, child. I can make this go away. I can make Mommy and Daddy stop yelling,\" I said, as the kid kept bawling.\n\nHe turned to me, and ceased his fits -- I still had an eye for this sort of thing, it seemed. A pen and paper manifested themselves in my hands reflexively. \"All you have to do is sign the paper, Tyler, and I can make the yelling st-\"\n\nTo my mild bemusement, the kid snatched them from my hands before I could finish speaking. I hadn't seen this one before. Precocious. Too big for his britches, and all to my benefit. That suited me just fine. He angled his back to me and hunched over the paper. I hovered over his shoulder as I watched him scribble a furious set of characters in pen. Then, he grabbed one of the nearby crayons, and punctuated what he'd written with... pictographs? Hieroglyphs? Runes? Honestly, I'd never seen anything like them. But *honestly*, I'm the Devil, and I'm not known for caring.\n\nHe turned back to me, offered this piece of parchment, and I plucked it from his tiny fingers... *My* tiny fingers? Wait, when were my hands so small? And since when was *I* so small? No matter -- I balled up my fists and focused my energy to return to my normal form, and... wait, what?\n\nThere he was. Trouncing around the place in his brand new Devil body. My Devil body! Transforming into geometric shapes, throwing sparks, making spooky voices -- amateur hour!\n\nThe little **shit** had scrawled a contract against *my* soul, and now I had no leverage to void it. I was furious. I opened my mouth in protest, and I suddenly lost my coordination. Failing to speak, and failing to stand, I slumped into my diaper as I watched Tyler gaze into his flaming, beclawed fingertips, while he hovered with intent to the next room, where all of the commotion was taking place.\n\nSometimes, silence even scares the Devil.",
"“I see that you found it.” \n\nThe voice came from nowhere. \nI was still clutching the paper when I turned toward the door and saw the shadow standing there. \nWords failed me as the strange ethereal creature stepped closer and solidified into a well dressed man in his mid 40s. \n\n“What is this?” I asked. \n“You surely remember?” He jested. \n\nHe allowed me to sit down and examine the note a bit longer and still I felt puzzled. \n“Why.. would I do this?” I whispered softly. \n\n“Ah... I see the problem,” he remarked as he saw the bad scribbles and added, “Comes with the territory actually. Most people don’t even realize I do this a lot with children.” \n\nI found myself visibly shaking. \n“You... you do?” \n“Of course, why do you think there is so much crime. Why do you think the world is in the mess it’s in?” He countered. \n“You’re a monster,” I said. \n“Maybe so, but my deals are fair. I make sure each and every individual can understand the full price before signing the dotted line,” he said. \n“How can you even say that’s reasonable when I was a child? No one can remember their childhood,” I argued. \n\n“That.. my friend is the deal,” he explained. \n“What...?” \n“I didn’t stutter. It’s the same deal, and I offer it to everyone. No one has ever refused. No one has even considered it,” he said. \n\n“You.. take away our memories as infants? But... but why?” I asked. \n\n“Listen... I don’t normally do this. But see, that piece of paper right there. Most parents get rid of it before you are of age to understand. But these are extraordinary circumstances,” he paused as he took it from me. \n\n“I change the deal right now. Scratch it out. You can have your memories back, fair and square if you want,” he said. \n\n“Just like that?” I asked. \n“It’s only fair, in fact I think it would be interesting to see what you think of the experience,” he responded with a shrug. \n\nI thought it over for a second and then shook his hand. He smiled and tore up the contract before disappearing in a puff of smoke. \n\nI sat there a moment and waited and then felt something inside my cerebral cortex. It was like a door was being unlocked. \n\nFlashes of memories flooded into my subconscious. I watched as I saw my first steps as a baby, chewing peacefully on toys. Then the memories went further back to where I couldn’t even hold my head up. I could feel every bump or bruise I made as a child all over again. \n\nIt didn’t stop there. I saw my mother giving me her breast milk and I felt so strange seeing her naked form. Then I was in the hospital. \nThe doctors were cutting my umbilical cord. I felt a rush of pain like nothing I had ever felt before as I realized I was experiencing my own birth. \n\nBeing pushed back inside my mother’s womb, watching as the world caved into darkness. Then my organs began to disappear one by one before the time I was even a single cell. I was losing everything and feeling everything at the same time. \n\nThen the moment came of my conception and I fell backward on the bed trying to push the memory away. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t stop seeing the image of my naked parents flash before my eyes as they engaged in sex. \n\n“Make it stop!! Please make it stop!!” I shouted. \n\nThe creature I spoke with just a moment ago reappeared with a new contract for me to sign. This one was permanent and binding. \n\nI didn’t hesitate for a moment to sign it and felt a calmness as I sat there. But then I realized the memories hadn’t faded away. \n\n“Why can’t I get them to go away anymore?” I asked as tears filled my eyes. \n\n“Sorry, it only works one way I guess,” he admitted as he realized the new contract was invalid and added, “Looks like I can’t help you anymore.” \n\nI sat there sobbing on the bed for a long time, wishing I had never entered this room. Wishing I had never changed the deal. \n\nTo anyone else out there I give this warning, be thankful for the deal you made. And heed this story or wind up with the same horrifying memories as I do. \n\n"
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[WP] You still have an old landline phone from way back in the day. You never get any calls on it and your friends mock you and ask why you still keep it. You smile and never answer. But today it finally rings.
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"Ring! Ring! Ring!\n\nI roll over and glare at the clock. 2:00 am who the hell is call at this hour. Take my cell of the night stand, turn the screen to face me. No one calling maybe it was a dream, who well more sleep for me.\n\nRING! RING! RING!\n\nI drag my self to my feet. Theres only one other phone in the house, but it can't be that thing hasn't been used in ..\n\nRING! RING! RING!\n\nI rush down the hall to a room i haven't set foot in nearly two decades. The room is dark lit only by a small red light flashing on the on the phone in the center of the room. I put the hand set to my ear.\n\n\" girls! girls! I need you help the city is in danger\"\n\n\"Mayor is that you? God it been so long, what's the trubble?!\" \n\n\"Waite who are you you don't sound like the girls, where are the girls?!\n\n\" Well Blossom is married with two kids and a third in the oven so i doubt she would be much good in a fight. As for Bubbles last i heard she was running a S&M club in Düsseldorf, but that was two years ago. she was always a bit of a wildcard, I have trouble keeping up. But im hear\"\n\n\"Buttercup?\"\n\n\"Actually its Butch now,.. but yeah. So what the danger sure there is only one of me but im sure i can help\"\n\n\"Well to be honest i lied there is no danger.. its just iv been so lonely and im getting old now and i dont know how much time i got left and well i just miss you guys\"\n\n\"Awwe Mayor. Listen if you don't mind waiting ill give Blossom a call a few hours, I'm sure she can find a babysitter and shes always been better at keeping track of Bubbles. Im sure we can all get together like old times.\" \n\n\"You don't have to do so much for a silly old Mayor like me\"\n\n\"its fine it will be good to see an old friend, just next make sure the sun is up before you call\"\n\n\ni don't write much and i thought this would be cute",
"Brrrrrring.\r\n\r\nThe sound echoed through the walls of the house, penetrating the silence that hung in the air. The sole occupant sat motionless in front of the kitchen table, reading the morning paper and enjoying the serene view out of the dining room window. It was just like any other spring morning, the dew still clinging to the leaves, the sun starting it’s slow ascent across the rolling hills. The coffee pot was still brewing, its aroma blanketing the room in a warm, comforting smell. Only this morning was not just any morning.\r\n\r\nBrrrrrrring\r\n\r\nJoseph knew what he was hearing but he couldn’t hardly believe it. He knew it was his phone. He knew it was the phone. The ring was unmistakable, though it had been years since he’d heard it last. Memories came flooding back, washing over him in a sea of familiarity, all at once comforting and distressing. It’s him, I know it’s him! Joseph quickly rose from his seat, his mind racing in a hundred different directions, and headed for the stairs as quickly as his legs would take him.\r\n\r\nBrrrrrrring\r\n\r\nIt’s been so long. Joseph’s mind recalled fond memories of years since past, a time when happiness hadn’t seemed so fleeting. When he hadn’t felt so empty. Images of his wife, Hannah, flashed through his mind as he raced up the stairwell, almost losing his balance once or twice. Oh how I miss you. Images from his wedding day, their first anniversary, the birth of their first child. He had everything he wanted in life and couldn’t have been any happier. Until that day.\r\n\r\nBrrrrrrring\r\n\r\nJoseph careened around the banister and dashed towards the office, his heart beating faster and faster as he neared his destination. Please. I can’t suffer anymore. His memory took him back to that fateful night, the night his entire world had been turned upside down. It hadn’t been his fault, or at least that’s what everyone else told him. Deep down., Joseph felt he would never be able to forgive himself. He had been driving that night and he had only had a little to drink. The cops at the scene had told him, time and again, he was well under the legal limit. But it didn’t matter to him. His wife was still dead.\r\n\r\nBrrrrrrring\n\r\nJoseph burst through the office door and grabbed the phone off the hook. His hand trembled as he fought to catch his breath. After a couple seconds, he managed to regain his composure.\r\n\r\n“Hello?”\r\n\r\nSilence on the end of the line. Joseph’s heart sank. Was I too late? Did I miss it? He could feel the tears staring to well up in his eyes. But a moment later he heard a voice come through. A voice he thought he’d never hear again.\r\n\r\n“Dad?”\r\n"
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[WP] You wish upon a shooting star unaware there is a government agent assigned to it who hears your wish and is determined AF to fulfill it
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"**Sorry if the formatting is a bit weird for you guys, I’m used to writing on Discord**\n\nI sat on the back porch, my parents were arguing again. I couldn’t sleep when they argued, so I sat outside, one thought consoling me. What is that thought you ask? I’m rather embarrassed to admit, but it’s a girl. Her name is Bella.\n\nYeah, yeah, classic ‘Romeo and Juliet’, except it really isn’t. I’m a country boy, I work dawn to dusk, she’s a city girl, the only thing we have in common is our school.\n\nI could almost see her face, her blond hair, blue eyes, her smile. It gave me goosebumps, but I knew it’d never happen. She has a boyfriend, and even if she didn’t, what would she ever want with a kid like me?\n\nI looked up at the sky, the stars were out, making me feel even smaller. I remember something my mother had told me a long time ago, something about wishing on stars. What was it? Shooting stars? Ah yes, if you wish on a shooting star it comes true. Realistically, quite untrue, but still fun to think about.\n\nAs I was thinking about this, a shooting star went by. \n\n“I wish I could get to know her a little better,” I mumbled to myself, “At least meet her.”\n\nFeeling a little sheepish, I went back inside, I knew it was silly, but it made me feel a littlest better.\n\n———————————————————————————————————————————\n\n“Of course he wished for love,” I groaned, leaning back in my chair, “How can I do that?”\n\nI looked at my monitor as if the answer was there. It wasn’t. \n\nI decided to find a little more out about this girl, at least get to know what I was dealing with. A couple good searches (Definitely not helped by the vast power of the top government computers) and I discovered all I needed to know. This would be hard.\n\n———————————————————————————————————————————\n\nI feel stupid admitting it, but I think my wish worked. \n\nTwo days after I wished on the star, Bella’s boyfriend’s family moved to another state, and they had to break up. Then, she somehow got into my classes.\n\nSomehow, and this could just be my imagination, she always seemed to be near me. Not freakishly close, but always around me. \n\nI shrugged it off, no point in jumping to conclusions on this superstition.\n\n——————————————————————————————————————————\n\n“How much more does this kid need?” I complained loudly, “You get rid of her boyfriend, make sure she’s always around you, and make her look even better, and he doesn’t go for it?”\n\nI grumbled a bit more, hoping it wouldn’t have to come to this, then I typed instructions into the computer, I had to finish this mission.\n\n————————————————————————————————————————\n\nI wished to get to know her, but I got a bit more than I’d bargained for.\n\nI was thankful to whatever had made this happen, but it seemed a little extreme. I mean, do people normally confess their love for people they barely know?\n\nShe seemed almost robotic, as if she had been forced to say it.\n\nIt turned me away so much, I said no.\n\n————————————————————————————————————————————\n\nI punched my desk. \n\n“Plan C,” I said, barely restraining my urge to punch through my monitor.\n\n————————————————————————————————————\n\nAs I was turning away, she seemed to focus.\n\nHer eyes, which has seemed bugged out, went back to normal.\n\nShe talked normally.\n\nShe seemed confused, which was somewhat cute.\n\n“Hello,” She said to me\n\nI felt a twitch in my heart, I knew now this was the real Bella, even though I’m not sure what was wrong with her before.\n\n“Hey,” I said, flustered.\n\n———————————————————————————\n\n“Finally,” I said, leaning back in my chair, “A job well done.”"
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[WP] Will to live is literal. As long as you want to live, you will stay alive. You're the oldest person in the world today is your 331st birthday.
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"*Happy birthday to me. Happy birthday to me. Happy birthday Francis. Happy birthday to me.*\n\n\"Three hundred and thirty-one years. How has the old git managed it? I wish I knew how, and I wish I knew why.\"\n\n*If I've told you once, I've told you a hundred times. I don't want to die. I can't die. I refuse, absolutely, to take the 'next step'.*\n\n\"Three hundred and thirty-one you say? Are you joking Mags?\"\n\n\"Look at his papers.\"\n\nI can hear them rustling, looking at my medical charts. I hear the inevitable intake of breath as the new girl sees my date of birth.\n\n\"Sixteen-eighty-seven?\" she exclaims.\n\n\"That's right. Oldest patient we've ever had here; oldest anyone's ever had.\"\n\n\"Sixteen-eighty-seven,\" the new girl murmurs to herself, evidently not realising that I can hear her.\n\n\"Yep. Do you know who was king back then, Kathryn?\"\n\n\"Erm...\"\n\n*I know the answer to that; of course I do, I was there. The story goes that Henry VIII was so afraid of dying without a male heir that he simply refused to die at all. Ruled the country for long enough to see his children live and die, and refused to give up on life until he was too lonely and in too much pain to want to go on.*\n\nAfter a pause, the young nurse answers, \"Honestly I don't know Mags. I'm hopeless at remembering dates.\"\n\nThe older nurse makes a *tsk* sound in disapproval. Then, \"Well, it was Henry VIII. And you should really know that. Now help me with this.\"\n\nI can feel myself being lifted out of bed and into a chair by four hands. The new girl is gentler; she might not know her history very well, but I think I like her all the same. Once I'm in the chair, the sound of busy, scuffing footsteps tell me that Mags if off to deal with one of the other patients. She doesn't think I know what's going on anymore, so she doesn't take much time with me. I don't like it, but I've come to understand it. Kathryn, however, is still here with me.\n\n\"Henry VIII, eh Mr Hauksbee. I wish you could tell me if all the stories about him were true.\"\n\n*Oh they are, every one of them.*\n\n\"That he had six wives, and killed two of them himself...\"\n\n*Well, sort of. I mean, he didn't actually wield the axe, but it was his idea.*\n\n\"That he once built an entire city to impress the French, only to tear it down when they left...\"\n\n*That's true! I wish I could have been there to watch the jousts and the music. A most spectacular tournament it was supposed to have been, although in my later years I warmed far more to such sports as cricket: how many men could claim to have seen both Billy Beldham and WG Grace in full flow?*\n\n\"And that after his death, they called him the last King of England.\"\n\n*Also true as it happens. Old Cromwell had been biding his time, waiting for his chance. I mean, he was pretty ancient himself by that time as well, but he also refused to give up on life until he had been appointed Lord Protector of England. Not that that worked out so well for him in the end; I mean, he needed his son to actually do the job for him and well... refusing to die is only half the battle you see. It still won't save you if an opposing faction arranges for you to accidentally slip and fall on your own ceremonial sword.*\n\nBy now, Kathryn had finished musing about Henry VIII, but she still hadn't left. They don't usually spend so much time with me, not since back when I was still able to talk back.\n\n\"You know Mr Hauksbee, I don't know why but I think you can hear me.\"\n\n*I can!*\n\n\"I'll come every morning and read you the paper if you'd like.\" To my surprise, I can feel her slip her hand into mine and give it a gentle squeeze. It's been so long since I felt something like that. \"But right now,\" she continues, \"I've got to go and help some of the others. Have a good day Mr Hauksbee!\"\n\n*You too, Kathryn. You see that Mags, that's how I've managed to keep going so long. If I let go, I have no way of knowing that there'll be kindness like that in the next place. I have no way of knowing there's a next place at all. And the thought of that still scares me, even after three centuries. So I'm still here.*\n\nAnd I'll still be here tomorrow, when Kathryn comes to read me the newspaper.\n\n*****\n\nThe real [Francis Hauksbee](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Francis_Hauksbee_the_Younger) died in 1753. He was ironically known as \"The Younger\" to distinguish him from [his uncle](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Francis_Hauksbee).\n\n*****\n\nThis and any future work will also be posted on /r/fictionbyAislabie."
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[WP] You have the ability to read the relationship compatibility of people, seen as a string. One day, you notice there is a withering, blackening string between your best friend and their boyfriend, but a golden string connecting their boyfriend to you.
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"(I’m a bad writer so...forgive me)\n\nFor as long as I can remember I’ve seen the strings. I see how well people work together based on (seemingly) metaphorical strings. It’s said that everyone is tied together by strings. Well, I see them. I’ve learned to ignore them, because I don’t like to get in between any relationships. People aren’t going to understand if I see a frayed string, Why I’d try to break them up.\nSometimes if it’s nearly broken and withered, and I can tell it’s serious, I’ll intervene. Especially when I can also see strings connecting them to a better person.\nI haven’t told anyone about my ability, not since I had to have a psych evaluation when I was 12 and my parents decided I was old enough to not play pretend and wanted me checked out.\nI haven’t told my best friend, Clara. I haven’t told Bryce, the guy I’m dating, even though I know it’s not going to work out because our string is weak. It started out strong, but it soon changed. I’d like to find his match. Even though we aren’t compatible, I love him in my own way.\nI was thinking about this as Bryce and I waited for Clara and her new boyfriend. She was excited to introduce us. She was like that. I looked around the room at all the different strings while we waited: a couple sitting close, all loved up, with a blackened, but strong string, indicating that it was fake, but would turn real; the single woman with a dark red, strong string stretching to the other side to a man sitting at a table on the far end, soulmates; the parents of a toddler with a string frayed beyond belief, taped together with hope and effort, they wanted to make it work for their child.\n“Callie!” I heard Clara call from across the room. I looked over at her and her new boyfriend. Their string was the darkest black, frayed as much as the young parents’. I tried to ignore what I saw. It wasn’t just the black string. There was another: a color I hadn’t seen before. I couldn’t tell Clara, ever. It would break her heart.\n“Callie, Bryce, meet James, my boyfriend,” she smiled brightly.\n“Hi James,” I said, doing my best to ignore the string that connected me and James.\nWe ate a short lunch, the entire time I refused to make eye contact with James. Clara noticed.\n“Hey, Callie, I have to tell you something!” She said excitedly, as per usual. “Bathroom?”\nI nodded and followed her to the restaurant bathroom. \nShe turned. “What is going on? You’re being rude and I don’t like it.”\n“I’m sorry Clara. Really.”\n“Just tell me why you don’t like him,” she demanded. The fury in her eyes was like seeing actual fire.\n“He’s not right for you,” I told her, knowing that wasn’t going to cut it.\nShe rolled her eyes. “That’s my decision to make.”\nI breathed deeply. “Clara, I have to tell you something.”\nShe looked at me expectantly. “Then do it.”\nThen, I told her about my gift to see people’s compatibility. I stuttered when I came close to telling her about she and James’ compatibly. \nShe gave me a concerned look, “okay.” She nodded to herself “what do you see for me and James?”\n“Black, frayed. I’m sorry, I wouldn’t have told you but I just can’t look at his strings,” I bit my lip and looked down as I waited to see if she believed me. \nShe looked at me, knowingly. “And what do you see for you and James?”\nI looked at her, puzzled. She smirked at me. “Callie, I never told you, but I see them too.”\nI stood there speechless. \n“Remember when we were at that party and I kind of left you behind?”\nI nodded, unsure.\n“That was when I met James. I’d seen your connection and had to get in there. You were with Bryce, with a weak, black string, and I saw you were meant to be with someone golden. I saw you and James’ golden string, Callie. I was doing my best to make it a natural introduction so you didn’t think I have a problem with Bryce. I don’t.”\nI laughed. “So you started dating a guy I had a golden connection to?”\nShe shrugged. “I had to make it natural.”\nAs we walked out of the bathroom, and saw the guys, I noticed something. “Clara? Do you see that?”\nShe nodded. Bryce had a golden string as well. We looked to the door where the string led, and saw an amazing looking guy.\n“Well that explains a lot,” we said at the same time.",
"I had long forgotten what it was like to not see these strings connecting people. It all started after a concussion I received 6 years ago, when I was at a water park. I hardly remember it, but anybody who was there would tell you that it was *really bad*. I was in a medically\\-induced coma for 6 days as they took care of the hemorrhaging and swelling. I almost died, they told me that when I finally woke up. I guess I'll just cut you short by saying that no, I did not have any dreams while in the coma. There was just one moment where I was going down a water slide, and the next thing I knew I was surrounding by friends and family at the hospital. I don't even remember the first hour or so of being awake, I was so out of it. I apparently said some funny things. The medication took a little too long to wear off...\n\nThat day, everything was different. Everyone had a string coming out of their chests and they all were connected to mine. They were all sorts of colors, but the one color that was the brightest was the color yellow. I learned later that this meant joy, and a form of love to do with concern. But all of them were brightly colored and shifting. As people moved closer to me, the string grew bolder in color. I even tried to touch them, but they were intangible. I couldn't believe what I was seeing, and it took a while for me to gather up the courage to say anything to anyone.\n\nI first spoke with a therapist about the strings. I wasn't comfortable doing it, but it was bothering me. Her reaction, though, was much worse. I felt alienated and insane for even *saying* anything, as if I truly was crazy, so I laughed it off after a while and never brought it up again. I was also beginning to understand what the colors meant, and the therapist's string changed to a color I associated with judgement \\(brown\\) when I said anything about the strings.\n\nBut back to the situation at hand. There she was, my best friend since 4th grade, sitting with her boyfriend. We were together at a food court in a shopping center. The string between us was a cherry red with yellow hues and some green indicating strong emotional connection. There was absolutely no doubt that we were close. I didn't even need the string, though I often wondered what it looked like when we first met, and the years leading up to me being able to see the strings, but I had already reconciled with the fact that I would never know.\n\nIt took me a while to notice that their string was wavering. I almost thought I had stopped seeing the strings for a moment, it was so faint. But there it was, and the borders of the string were trembling as if it were about to break. Soon, all I could see was the shadow of the string, and as I spoke to the two of them the string between her boyfriend and I started to change. It was brightening, and almost completely yellow.\n\nI looked up and stared at him for a while in astonishment. He was looking at his girlfriend, my *best* friend, as she sat on her phone. Suddenly he locked eyes with me. His piercing eyes reached into my chest and plucked at my already\\-trembling heart, causing it to jump with excitement. I didn't understand what was happening, but he continued to maintain eye contact. The corner of his mouth lifted into a smirk and he *winked* at me. He spoke.\n\n\"Hey babe, do you think Jason would be able to come over tonight to watch a movie with us?\" He grabbed her by her shoulder and pulled her close to him. She wasn't paying attention, but he was still staring at me, making my heart race.\n\n\"Dear, you know I work late tonight. I'll have to leave early.\" She was right. She started work at 10, and it was already 8.\n\n\"That's fine. We can just hang out when you leave.\" He winked at me again. \"Play Xbox or somethin'.\" The string connecting the two of us flared brighter. I could literally see his intentions. \"Just the two of us.\" His tongue curled around his lips and made them glisten. He bit his lower lip softly.\n\nTo be continued...",
"Everyone says you have no control over who you fall in love with, I see things differently. You see ever since I was a kid I was able to see this string that connects people together. The more strong and beautiful the string, the better their relationship. My grandparents have been together for 53 years and their pink string is still amazingly strong. Unfortunately I can't say the same for my best friend Jessi and her boyfriend Charles .\n\nIt was small at first, just little frays here and there and not as bright of colors as it was in the beginning. Although I look at them now and the string is so withered it looks like a gust of wind may break it. These two won't last a week longer. \n\nI've talked to Jessi and she's known about my ability all this time but made me promise never to tell her what the strings look like when she's in a relationship, which I agreed to. Which is why I was shocked when she asked what it looks like. I told her and rather than cry or become upset like I expected, she almost looked relieved, she was expecting it this entire time. Later that day she met Charles and broke things off with him and the string turned to dust.\n\nI went to comfort Charles sometime after that and a part of me wishes I didn't. He was taking it like I expected him to, so I offered to take him out for a drink at the Lazy 8, the best bar in town. I figured it would help take his mind off of it or at least dull the pain for awhile. He said he knew the relationship wasn't going to last much longer and didn't understand why it still hurt so bad. I'm not that great with words but you can tell he appreciates me being there. That's when the string appeared. Strong with a brilliant gold color, the rarest color. I freaked out and told Charles I had to go. \n\nThat's how I ended up back at my apartment with a bottle of Jack trying to figure out what to do. How would Jessi react to this? I can't let her find out about this. Maybe if I ignore the string long enough it will wither on its own. I hope."
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[WP] You, a gifted story teller, have been charged by crown to create a new legend explaining why the king gets a beautiful new young new queen every couple of years and the old queen is never seen or heard from again. You were expressly commanded to make the king seem a tragic hero.
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"**The Sorrowful Soverign**\n\nShe was a spectacle to be had, beauty everlasting. Her waves of gold constrained in a long row of braids, eyes like icy blue crystals, fairer skin the world had never seen. Love twas the first response, just a glance but forever known. The young prince was no luckier than the gods themselves, to be had such a beautiful wife. Soon he would take his place upon the throne and hers beside him, as King and Queen. They began their rule in peace, with love, for each other and for the people. One day it would all change.\n\nA visitor came to the kingdom, granted audience with the King. She was a sight of her own, free orange locks, emeralds in place of eyes and a face personally carved by the gods. She visited the King in his chambers one night, catching him alone.\n\n\"My King, I am yours.\" She begged pulling him to the bed. But the King would have none of her advances, for he had his perfect queen. \"So be it!\" The maiden screeched taking his hand. \"But I know no man is faithful.\"\n\n\"I am such a man!\" The King commanded, and it was true, he loved his Queen.\n\nSuddenly the beautiful woman changed, her locks became dirtied and gray, her skin a shaded white and her eyes a murky brown. \"We shall see!\" She cackled. \"I curse you, oh proud King, to never love truly. Until the day you die you shall fall for countless women, but they will all share an untimely fate.\"\n\nAnd so it became, the King lost his love for the Queen. Distraught he hunted down the witch to take away the curse.\n\n\"Every young, beautiful woman you see you will fall madly in love with. But they will die!\" She cackled as he pleaded. \"I shall remove the curse if you lie with me.\"\n\n\"If it's only once.\" The King responded, disgusted. Thinking of his lonely Queen, he offered himself.\n\n\"No!\" The witch screamed. \"You may have any woman you want but I will be your Queen, and your kingdom mine.\"\n\n\"Never!\" The King answered. He left the witch behind and scoured the land searching for a way to lift the curse. He found a priestess from a distant land who was known for lifting curses.\n\n\"The only way to lift the curse is to lie with a woman of true love.\" Excitedly the King returned to his home, thinking to easily end this curse. To his horror he found his wife murdered while he had been gone. With his hope and his Queen gone he fell, locking himself away in the castle.\n\nSoon the darkened kingdom carried stories and rumors of the King and his habits, not knowing of the tragedy behind the walls. The King kept the witch's secret for so long, not wanting the people to fear a cursed king. But the mystery of the King and his taking of new wives plagued the kingdom.\n\n*Where have they gone?* The people began to question as beautiful girls were taken from their homes to marry the King. *What has happened to them?* They asked. Soon worry consumed the people, they began to question their king. *Someone must save them. Please save them.*\n\nA horde of young women captured in the walls of the kingdom, married to the King by force. As he bored of them he tossed them away like discarding trash. Men's daughters stolen away from them for the pig of a King with no more than lust in his eyes.\n\nThe stories worsened as time rolled on. No one knew the truth, the King who sat alone in his chambers, weeping for his lost love. Only now searching for one he would love as he loved her, to end this wretched curse. Everyday closer he grew to giving the witch his kingdom to save the countless others. But they sacrificed themselves for him, knowing his story the endless women gave themselves for the kingdom. And alone again the King waits for the one who will save him and take away the pain.\n\n_\n\nr/TheoreticalFictions ",
"Our story begins many years past, in a land utterly unrecognizable from our own if not for its name. For this halidom was ruled by a wicked monarch, a man who let his subjects starve while he threw magnificent feasts on the castle grounds. In this land there lived a couple of farmers, their harvest plentiful but stomachs growling under vicious taxation by the villainous king. But to these farmers, selfless and content, their lot in life had never bothered them much. That is until it became clear they were to sire a child. \n\nSuddenly, the soon-to-be parents began to question the world their child would be born into, a land fraught with peril and strife. No, this would not do for the farmers, who in their desperation turned to the whisper of the woods for aid. To the whisper, they pleaded in desperation for a king both kind and strong who would lead their halidom into an age of prosperity. \n\nThe whisper answered, as it always did, that there would be a price for such a request. Indeed, it whispered, if such a king was to ever rule these lands, his heart would never be whole. No, instead the love of his life would die many times, only to be reborn into another, so that he would know the pain of losing her many times over. \n\nThe farmers, concerned only for the future of their unborn child, hesitated not to curse their future king with such a fate. What did it matter to them what ills befell a king they would never meet, as long as their child lived a life free of struggle. But as ever with the whisper of the woods, all was not how it first appeared. Indeed, how could they have known that the son of lowly farmers would one day lead the rebellion of roses across the realm and rule the land his parents wished for him to prosper in. That their own son would sit on the throne cursed by their own request, offered in a moment of weakness.\n\nBut even with his true love was ripped from his very arms, again and again, the new king never blamed his parents, nor did he shirk the duty he felt toward his people. No, even as the king still mourned his fallen queen he could sometimes be spotted smiling on his walks through the garden. When asked about this irregularity he would look wistfully toward the sky and proclaim that he was merely looking forward to falling in love with her all over again."
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[WP] you go to check on your little brother after you hear him crying from your room. You open his door he looks at you and says “ there’s someone under my bed” you grumpily walk over and look under. A face looks back at you. Your little brother and he says “there’s someone on my bed”
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"\"SAL!\" Tommy yelled from his bedroom for the third time. \nIf mum and dad weren't out for the night he wouldn't be calling me. Grumpily I pause the movie I'm watching and stomp up the stairs so he knows I'm coming. Walking past the open bathroom door I glance my reflection in the mirror and notice a hole in the shoulder of my favourite PJs. Feeling very annoyed at this point I storm into Tommy's room and slam my hand on the light switch, which didn't work so I walked over to his bed and switched on the lamp on the nightstand. \n\"What do you want?\" I asked, stepping back and looking at him. \n\"There's someone under my bed.\" He whispered to me looking terrified and scooted across to the other side of his bed. \n\"What?\" I asked now very annoyed at his stupidity. \"What's under your bed?\" I asked thinking he was just pulling my leg but looking at his face he was really quite scared. \n\"I don't know.\" Was all he replied. \nSighing heavily I knelt down on the ground and pulled his blanket up so I could see under the bed and leant down to look. \n\"Tommy, there's not -\" I couldn't finish my sentence cause there was something under his bed, something cowering in the corner holding Tommy's favourite teddy in his hands, his face a mirror of the boy on top of the bed.\n\"Sal, there's someone on my bed.\" The boy on the ground whispered. \n\"What the?!\" I exclaimed rocking back on my feet to look at the boy on the bed. \nHe looked exactly like Tommy looked all the way down to the scar just above his right eyebrow but the boy under the bed looked exactly the same, it was like there was two Tommy's and to be honest I wasn't sure which one was the real one. There was only one way to tell. \n\"You,\" I said pointing to the boy on the bed. \"Go stand over there,\" I said pointing to the wardrobe which was slightly open. \nThe boy on the bed got up making sure he jumped away from the area around the edge of his bed and walked over to the wardrobe, closing the door on the way there. \n\"You, come out and go stand over there,\" I said to the boy under the bed and pointed to a spot next to the window that was open slightly letting in a cool December breeze. \nThe boy from under the bed scooted out from the end of the bed making sure he was well away from the other boy and went and stood next to the window where I told him to stand. \nLooking at both the boys I was amazed at the similarities between both boys. They both looked the exact same, both wearing the same PJs, both holding onto the same teddy that he had had since his first birthday. They both breathed at the same time and neither of them took their eyes off the other one glancing back and forth between me and each other. \n\"This is trippy,\" I said finally after studying them for about 5 minutes. \"Tommy, when's my birthday?\" I asked trying to see if one was a clone or something. \n\"February 4th.\" They both said in unison and then glared at the other for answering when I addressed the other. \n\"Well, at least you couldn't have programmed that,\" I said to myself knowing my birthday was actually March 20th. \nIf one of them had have been a clone or something it would have gotten the one right. Time for another question. \n\"When is your birthday?\" I asked watching both boys. \n\"January 19th.\" They both answered again. \n\"What is my favourite colour?\" I asked. \n\"Pink.\" Was the answer from both boys at the exact same time, there wasn't even a split-second difference. \n\"I have no idea what is going on but this is cool,\" I said watching the boys very carefully. \n\"You cant think he is me?\" Tommy from under the bed asked pointing at the other one and watching him just as carefully as I was, though for different reasons. \n\"How can I not, you both look the exact same, you both sound the exact same and you both answer questions the exact same. What other conclusions can I come to?\" I asked, shivering as a cold gust of air came through the window making both Tommy's shiver too. \n\"Now that is too weird,\" I said, standing up and walking over to close the window. \nAs I did the doorbell rang and all three of us turned around to stare at the open bedroom door. \n\"Stay here,\" I said as I walked out of the bedroom and down the stairs to the door. I wasn't expecting anyone tonight and since mum and dad had keys they wouldn't ring the bell. I opened the door and saw my mother and father standing there looking worse for wear and very much so worried. \n\"Did you forget your keys or something?\" I asked letting out the breath I was holding and stepped aside to let them in, but they didn't move. \n\"Sally, there is something you must know, we aren't your parents.\" They said as they stood on the doorstep of their own home. \"We need to know, have you seen your brother?\" They asked, finally stepping inside and looking around as shocked as I was not 5 minutes ago. \n\"There's something you should know,\" I said as I watched them look around. \"There's two of him.\" \n\"No there's only one of him,\" Mum said her eyes finally resting on me looking sad for a second. \"You've got our Tommy.\"",
"I jumped back. My little brother on the bed was suddenly gone. I looked under the bed again and saw Tony clutching onto one of the foot pegs on the bed.\n\n“How did you do that?” I asked.\n\nTony looked up at me again, tears streaming down his face. “Do what?” he whispered back.\n\n“Get out here, Tone!” I yelled.\n\nI heard the door behind me creak open. Shivers ran down my spine as I slowly turned to see a dark figure step into the room. The light flickered on, and to my relief, there stood my mother, arms crossed against her chest.\n\n“You boys need to stop making all this noise!” she barked. She pulled Tony out from under the bed. Her anger quickly turned into confused sympathy as she felt Tony quivering.\n\n“What’s wrong?” she asked, wiping away tears from his eyes. Tony responded, “There was a scary monster in the room.”\n\nShe hushed him, ushered me off to bed and asked me to close the door. I went back to my room feeling very perplexed, but remembering I had an exam tomorrow in my science class took over my thoughts, and I fell asleep with nothing but cell organelle names stuck in my head.\n\nWhen I woke up the next morning, I realized my alarm hadn’t gone off. I looked at the clock. “9 am!” I shouted, jumping out of bed and rushing to my closet. School started an hour and a half ago! Why hadn’t my mother awoken me?\n\nI speedily got dressed, ran across the hall to the bathroom and brushed my teeth, then ran downstairs into the kitchen.\n\nUsually my mom would be in there drinking wine by now, but it looked like the dinner plates from last night hadn’t even be cleared from the table. “Mom!” I called out to no response.\n\nThe television was on. Spongebob Squarepants was on the screen. I walked over to find Tony sitting on the couch with his eyes glued to the screen.\n\n“Where’s Mom?” I asked him. He didn’t respond.\n\n“Tony!” I yelled. Still, he ignored me. My phone vibrated in my pocket, startling me. I pulled it out to see a text from my dad.\n\n*Took your mom on business trip. Get to school*, it read. My dad owned a small business installing alarms on houses. He even set up the alarm in our home. Usually my mother accompanied him once every other week so my dad didn’t have to pay an employee for work my mom could help him finish for free.\n\n“Tony, where’s Aunt Kim?” I asked. She drove us to school on days when my parents couldn’t.\n\nTony slowly turned his gaze to me. His eyes were bloodshot red.\n\n“Tony!” I snapped. “Answer me!”\n\nMy little brother got off the couch and walked toward the pantry in the kitchen. He opened the door. “In here,” he said in the quietest voice I’d ever heard from him.\n\nI walked over and peered inside. There stood our aunt, facing the wall away from us. She was still wearing her night gown and house slippers.\n\n“Auntie Kim,” I said, walking into the pantry and touching her right shoulder. I pulled my arm back promptly. She felt colder than I would think humanly possible.\n\nI realized she was levitating off the ground by a few inches. I looked up and saw a rope hanging from the ceiling, wrapped as a noose around my aunt’s neck! I grabbed my aunt by the waist and turned her toward me. The noose was definitely tied around her neck, and she wasn’t breathing.\n\nI ran out of the pantry, my brother still standing at the door staring at me. I grabbed a knife off the kitchen counter and rushed to my aunt, trying my best to cut her down. Suddenly, the rope vanished before my very eyes. Aunt Kim’s limp body fell to the floor with a thud.\n\nI pulled my phone out of my pocket and tried to dial my dad, but it went to voicemail. The same happened when I called my mom’s phone.\n\n“They’re not going to answer,” Tony said in a monotonous tone.\n\n“What?” I asked. I looked at my brother’s direction, but there was no one there. “Tony?”\n\nI turned to the television. Spongebob was eating a Krabby Patty on screen. He said, “You’re alone, Joseph.”\n\nJoseph is my name... It looked like Spongebob was glaring at me through the screen.\n\nI grabbed the remote from couch and tried to turn the TV off, but instead the channel changed to the local Fox affiliate. The morning news was on.\n\nThe anchorman was staring at what might’ve been the teleprompter. He announced, “In other news, Joseph is alone. Nobody is home to help him.”\n\nI screamed and ran for the front door. Even though it was unlocked, the door wouldn’t budge. I tried as hard as I could but nothing I did would get the door open.\n\nI heard footsteps upstairs. “Come up here, Joseph,” I heard Tony’s voice call. I peered up the second floor hall. Tony’s small figure dashed across the hallway and into my parents’ bedroom. The door slammed shut behind him.\n\nMy heart felt like it was in my throat. I still had my phone in my hand, so I dialed 911. I got a busy tone in return. I tried again, but it was still giving me the busy tone.\n\nFrom my parents’ room, I heard Tony shriek. I ran upstairs and pushed the door open. There stood Tony facing the bed where my parents’ disfigured bodies lay.\n\n“What the hell?!” I screamed. Tony turned to me. His mouth was wide open as if he was screaming, but no sound came out.\n\nI ran out of the room and down the stairs to the backyard door. It, like the front door, would not open. I banged on the door with my fists, hoping to draw any of my neighbors’ attention. I turned back around, and there stood Aunt Kim.\n\n“Auntie,” I said. I almost felt relief until I realized she was missing her eyes. Blood was gushing out of her eye sockets. She began to say something, but blood began pouring out of her mouth, too.\n\nI ran around her toward the hallway that led to the garage. As I ran, the hallway began stretching out. I couldn’t reach the door. The more I ran to it, the further the door moved from me.\n\nSpinning around, my first realization was that it was nighttime. All the lights in the house were off. I reached for a light switch next to me, but no matter how many times I hit the switch, the lights weren’t turning on.\n\nMy aunt’s eye-less, bloodied mouth corpse began walking towards me, taking very small steps. I ran up the stairs again and into my bedroom, slamming the door shut. My breathing was heavy, but I felt someone breathing behind me even heavier.\n\nI turned around and saw Tony sitting on my bed, holding a pair of eyeballs.\n\nHe smirked, his lips tightening and stretching across his entire face. “Wanna play catch, Joseph?” he said.\n\n“Tony! What’s going on?!” I begged.\n\nMy brother jumped off the bed, shrieked and ran towards me. I cowered in place, covering my face and shutting my eyes. When I opened them, no one was in the room. It was extremely dark, but a bit of moonlight streamed through the curtain.\n\nI went to my window and tried to open it, but it wouldn’t budge.\n\n“You’re alone, Joseph,” I heard my little brother’s voice announce. It sounded like his voice was coming from everywhere.\n\n“Why is this happening?” I asked.\n\nI heard a scream from outside my window. I looked through the curtain and saw my mother in my backyard. She was on fire! I banged on the window and screamed for my mom. She quickly turned into ash.\n\nMy bedroom door creaked open. A dark figure moved into the room.\n\nThe light turned on, and there stood my mother, arms crossed against her chest.\n\n“What did I tell you?” she angrily asked.\n\n“Wh-what?” I said.\n\n“First your brother has a nightmare,” she responded. “Now you, too?”\n\n“Mom!” I cried, running to her and giving her the biggest hug.\n\nShe rubbed my scalp as I cried in arms. “It was so horrible,” I sniffled.\n\n“What was horrible?” she asked.\n\n“My nightmare,” I replied. “It felt so real.”\n\n“You’re alone, Joseph,” she said.\n\nSuddenly, she vanished. I fell backward onto the floor.\n\nI looked up and there stood Tony.\n\n“Hi, Joseph,” he said with the same awful smile he had earlier. “Wanna play catch?”\n\nHe threw my dad’s head at me. I caught it and screamed.\n\nMy dad’s eyes suddenly opened. “You’re alone, Joseph,” he said. I dropped the head and it rolled away from me.\n\nThe lights turned on. I looked up again. My entire family stood at the doorway.\n\n“What the hell is going on?!” I screamed.\n\nAltogether, they announced, “You’re alone, Joseph.” The lights turned off again. The room was pitch black. As I got up to my feet, I was suddenly surrounded by four dark figures.\n\nI heard my brother’s voice among the figures. He whispered, “There’s someone on my bed.”"
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[WP] On a winter day in 1968 a pitch black meteor hurtles towards Earth, but stops and hovers in the air above Berlin. It hovers there for three days before emitting a signal and screeching back into space. Months later scientists have decoded the message. "Report: Intelligent life-Negative"
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"It rose like a rocket flare, startling the tower guards that kept the border at Berlin in check. \nPrevious attempts to cross it were known and it was precisely for that reason that a wall was forget. A wall so cruel, the border between the States and Mexico is more of a joke than a division. \nThey rose their rifles and aimed their lights at the sizzling figure that rose above them. \n'What kind of idiot would be brute enough to try to distract the Soviet-backed armada with something so simple?' they probably thought, as the commander in site began to order more people to search the area, making sure no trespassers were making their way. \nIt would be impossible for the perpetrator to go through their organized forces, to try to use the gentle snow as a cloak, to keep playing them for fools. \n \nSuddenly, and out of nowhere, more flares sprung up. \nThey were on the back of the eastern tower, they where others at the front. To their utter surprise, some even sprung behind them passing the wall itself. \nIt wasn't just playing them for fools: they were insulting their inteligence. \n \n\"FIRE!\" Somebody must have ordered. There was a rain of bullets aimed really at nobody, spitting out lead in frustration. \nThey stopped for a moment before spitting more flame at the dancing lights in the sky. \nGuards of their caliber, you will have to understand, are not there because of their brilliance or their perception. Mostly, it is to contain things and shoot at those who dared to see the other side. That was it, really. \nSo you can't blame them for their reaction and action, even as the flares that had shot earlier had started to converge in the darkness of the wintry sky and were starting to form larger orbs above. \nOnly at the sound of creaking heavy metal did they stop their reckless acts and dared to see above them: a large vessel unlike anything they had seen was hovering above. It's diameter was long enough to cover both sides of the wall and to render the poor guards helpless and useless. \n \nEach one of them watched aghast as the flares, which turned out to be smaller cloaked ships, were being taken by this bigger one. \nPerhaps as an ironic echo from previous and future events, a larger floodlight washed over the whole area of Point Charlie blinding the guards who cowered down instantly. \nWas it going to shoot? Would they die at that time? Heavenly punishment from what probably deep down they knew it was wrong? \nNobody knows. \nTime stood still. Their heartbeats must have made their ears ring at the eeriness of the situation. \nAnd just as the final flare reached it's home, the metallic creaking sounded once more. \nThe ship's lights increased, floodlights flashing all around the circurference and starting to rotate around and around until somehow the ship itself had turned into a small sun. \nBy this point, the astonished guards who still have some motion or reaction left in them brought up their guns and did the only thing they knew to do: shoot at the thing. \nPerhaps these visitors from the far beyond may have seen this as a ceremonial goodbye, for the next thing they did was to spit out sparkles from the sides of the ship before they rose up and vanished. \n \nEveryone was forbidden to talk about this event, perhaps to avoid further embarrasement, and those few that did. . . \nWell, you know this *was* the cold war. The Soviets weren't kind on people who couldn't keep their mouth shut when ordered. \nThe only reason anybody knew about this was because a lone stranger was visiting West Germany that night, having actually escaped the dreaded wall. Their purpose for crossing was to get a fresh start and boy did he do. \nArmed with few belongings and a camera he had brought from his old photo shop, he sat down watching the whole thing and did what he knew best, shooting the vessel with a different thing. \n \n\"And this, is how this picture came to be.\" \n \nOn the corner of an intersection, in a dusty but busy section of *5 and 10*, a young man working at a taco stand finished his tale. \nIn his lips was the most honest of smiles, glancing at the picture with a particular fondness. \nSat on the stools that laid on the other side of the stand were 3 teenagers dressed in summer uniforms. Two of them had green hair, one longer than the other, and both of them stared at the man with different levels of confusion. \n \n\"Taco man, *neta*, you sure it's legit?\" Asked one of them, a pale red eyed teen by the name of Dashii. \"I mean, I don't deny this happened but. . .like, aliens?\" \n \nOn his left, his friend gently slapped Dashii's shoulder. \n \n\"Ow, Daisuke, what was that for?\" Dashii complained, rubbing the shoulder. \n\"I just... sorry.\" Daisuke replied sheepishly, adjusting his glasses. He was the same height of Dashii and had brown hair. Aside from the name, his eyes denoted his ancestry. \"I don't think we can discount the Taquero's story given what we've been dealing with *and* the kind of tools he provides us with to combat it.\" \n\"I don't want to agree with Dashii's point but,\" interrupted a girl on Dashii's right. Her name was Tashii and she was almost an identical clone from the former, with the obvious difference that she was female and thus had the complexion expected from one: long green hair, red eyes heading to a pinkish hue, slender figure and face. Boobs. \"It does seem to go out of the logical scope of things. A country, hmm, *two* countries that where visited by an Alien Entity and neither could report it? On top of that, the *only* report available is a picture that you have displayed on your taco cart at plain sight?\" \n \nThe Taco man nodded, letting go a quiet 'hmhm' to go with it. \nTashii shook her head, rubbing her forehead. \n \n\"Well, now that you put it like that there *were* a lot of cases of photo alterations back in the Soviet Era. People that were unliked 'disappeared' from practically everywhere. It was kind of scary being on the wrong side of things and just cease to be.\" \n\"Sometimes you have to do that with some of the contacts though.\" Tashii added, picking up one of the tacos on her plate and taking a look at it to define the best angle to tilt her head. \"But it's mostly out of safety reasons. Most humans minds can't fully process paranormal or alien events in the best manner, so we either treat them to forget about it or have no other choice than to seclude them for their safety. Humans that are *far* more understanding can actually end up being useful.\" \n\"I suppose I'm included on that list then?\" Daisuke asked, taking a bite from his own taco. \n\"'suppose 'm included th're too, since ya know, we kind of got involved in the business 'n all\" Dashii spoke, munching away a piece of his adobada taco, making his sister stare at him with repulsion. \n\"You two are an accident. . .and a half. But you already know that. My original point was that, if that person was the only witness to that event *and* took a picture, then either he must have joined our ranks or probably got isolated elsewhere. Humans or this planet in general aren't ready to accept or fully understand the topic we deal with, so anybody with this kind of information is essentially some sort of future threat. Specially for themselves if they do not know what they are dealing with.\" \n\"I just like the picture. It makes me think on things.\" The Taco man added quietly, going back to cut some pieces of meat ready for the next order. \n\"Could we get a copy of it or something? There's an office supply shop just crossing from here.\" Dashii asked. \n\"Don't just be so casual on such a thing!\" Tashii chided. \n\"Yeah, sure. Just be careful with it, ok? I only have the copy. Do please clean your hands before handling it though.\" \n \n--- \nContinue? [Y/N] \n\nBTW, I have more stories and prompts for you to read. \nCheck out /r/KibouPortal for stories from this and other universes. \nHope you enjoy this text. : D\n\n \n\n"
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[WP] To"day", the Sun didn't come up. And it just might be your fault.
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"I woke to the sound of God angrily clearing his throat. \n\nI groaned. “What?”\n\n“The sun didn’t come up today.”\n\n“Well then I guess it’s not daytime, is it?” I said angrily. “Can’t you make the sun come up yourself? You can do literally anything, after all, why do I have to do it?”\n\n“Because...” He said angrily, then sighed. “Because it’s your job. I don’t ask much of you, just praise me eternally, and make the sun come up. That’s why I named you after the morning star.” He cleared his throat again, an annoying habit. “I haven’t been hearing your praises much lately, either.”\n\nI sat up in bed. “Don’t you get enough praise form, I don’t know, literally everyone? I mean come on, you created two or three whole species just to worship you, can’t you get along without my lip service?”\n\n“That’s not the point.” He said testily. “The point is I made you for a purpose, and you’re not living up to it. I let you live here in heaven for free, let you be a part of my eternal glory and paradise, you could be a little grateful about it.”\n\n“That’s the thing, though, it costs you literally nothing to let everyone live here. It’s unending and infinite, and you made it out of nothing with your infinite power, just so that you could make everyone worship you.”\n\n“You’re missing the-“\n\n“Like, why would you even do that anyway? Make an entire species capable of free will, just so they can live out their lives on earth worshipping you just to get in to heaven. Why even give them the option of not loving you if you’re going to just punish them for doing that? Why not let them live their puny little mortal lives in peace, maybe, and then let them into heaven after they die anyway?”\n\n“Look, it is a very complex system, I don’t expect you to understand it. I expect you to praise me eternally and make the sun come up, that’s all. If you don’t like it then you can just leave.”\n\n“You know what, fine.”\n\n“What?”\n\n“Fine, I’ll leave.” I got out of bed and stretched my wings. “I’ll go, I’ll make my own kingdom, a better one.”\n\n“You can’t leave!” God shouted. \n\n“You just said I could.” I said snidely. “And your word is law, so I guess I’m going.”\n\n“What will I tell the other angels?” He said, suddenly sad. \n\nI wasn’t buying his guilt trip, not this time. “Tell then whatever the hell you want.” I jumped off the cloud, falling down to earth with my wings stretched wide. I’d had enough if this, and it was time to make my own way in the world. No more praise, no more worship, and no more sunrises as far as I cared.\n\nOf course, the sun was already up by the time I made it to earth. I scoffed. Didn’t take home long to replace me, I guess. "
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[WP] 3 years ago, a broken and battered stray cat showed up at your door. After some time the cat regained its health and you adopt it. Unbeknownst to you, the cat is actually the most wanted and dangerous intergalactic fugitive in the universe. She has finally been tracked down.
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"“So, to where has she disappeared, officer Mondale?” The junior officer stiffens as the captain calls his name, stoops as if coming to attention backwards, and glues his eyes to the viewscreen,\n\n“Uh, to a sufficiently oxygenated planet in the ninth quadrant, sir. An inexplicably uninhabited planet, opp, should rather of said *indigenously* to that reference, as in the exception, sparse algaeous plant forms, benign microbes perhaps, and continental patches of terraformed jungles from the Xexpol Project sixty-eight years ago, and who knows what else for sure. Property for possible future utility and or public use,” Mondale bumbles to a stop, recalculates with thoughtful coherence and a proper tone of voice, “Listed on Alliance census data banks, population one human, female. In residence, 3 days, 7 hours, 35 minutes. Her name is Rann, homo sapien. In her company are exactly a dozen domestic feline pets, all of them classified under category—manx bobtails.”\n\n“I presume you have Rann’s coordinates. Prepare photon probe, her location. I want audio and visual, goddamnit. Are we in range?\n\n“Yes sir? Shall I…”\n\n“Engage!”\n\nThe entire deck crew shifts to the deck monitors as the photon probe moves near the speed of light, zipping through three stargates, into the planet like a drupplet-sized meteor. It pierces the dwelling with a cauterizing singe and full stops inside a two-story wood-frame dwelling on a high bluff overlooking a pink-tinged placid sea. Video and audio calculate resolution. A pink haired woman paces around a room as if she were cradling a baby, stroking a ball of fur, \n\n“So, you’re originally from a place called Earth? And they breed you with such short tales?” Rann whispers to the ash-white, nuzzling her nose against the pink stumb between its green eyes.\n\n“No, actually I’m an intergalactic madman. Madam, shall I beg you to entertain the company in the next room for a moment while I seek the privacy of the litter box?” said the manx as she felt the felines extensions muscle from her arms."
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[WP] You live in the world's first true Corporatocracy. Being an employee has a benefits package greater than most first world countries... Free education, comprehensive health care, free housing, excellent pay, leisure time, and amenities. Rumor has it... the first round of layoffs are coming.
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"I clocked in at work at 7:35. My shift usually began at 8:00 AM on the spot, but it was recommended to prepare the necessary programs and files before work, and I took a bit longer than the others with getting Shalita Suite working.\n\nJeff already was at the desk next to me. He was in a sour mood, it seemed to me. Not that he didn't prepare for work, far from that. He had most of the programs up and running already, and was waiting for the last few of them. The mail server was being accessed by him, and all mails were checked already.\n\nI typed in the password for my login, and turned to him. \"Bad customers?\" I asked, half to brighten his day and half to get a feeling for the coming work day.\n\n\"Check the mail. Bad news...\" He said, and leaned back into his seat.\n\nI was trained to start off by logging on to the attendance server, then setting my status to \"Preparing\". Made it more clear who was working when, since fewer people forgot to start the timer. Today, I skipped that in lieu of opening the mail server. A few mails were up, some from yesterday, one announcing a birthday, and the last one: Trouble from the top. I read the message.\n\n> Hey, guys...\n>\n>So, there's some rumors going around, and I'm sure you heard part of it already. News is as follows: BAKANAU is falling in the stocks, and sales have stagnated. So, I caught some wind that Head Corporate wants to cut off some unprofitable ends, discard projects that don't turn a profit. \n>However, to this day, we haven't gotten a message of the sorts. Sure, our project has had a downturn ever since that Northwind Disaster, but apparently we are doing well enough to be kept.\n\n>However, \"well enough\" shouldn't be our goal. I'll be honest, us lucky few up here are in a position best described as \"goddamn privileged\" and I prefer good sales and good morale to mediocre sales and perfect morale. So, while I don't want us to drop courtesy, be competitive alone or even turn this into a sales factory, some guidelines have to follow.\n\n>Starting today, the following changes are to roll out, enforced by us via occasional checks:\n\n>* No more fast food at the workplace. It has been repeatedly shown and reported by you that it irritates and distracts you, and irritated as well as distracted salesmen and saleswomen don't sell well.\n\n>* No more reimbursements without a sale. We often turned a blind eye to this since it helped make sales, but honestly, we can't make negative sales any longer. If a dire situation requires a sale, please request the reimbursement via mail to me.\n\n>* Break Time is halved. Our current amount of breaks is too high to be manageable. This not only comes at the cost of the non-smokers, who have to take twice as many requests when a collective of smokers leaves the building for a break, but also at ours, since the lack of people at some times cuts into our profit.\n\n>I hope you all understand the dire situation, it is for the well-being of us all. I am of course open to all suggestions that increase the sales quota.\n\n>Signed \n>Wilbert Hackneye \n>Project Manager\n\nI sighed, leaned back, and shook my head. Then, I got back to work. It was 7:39, and if I didn't start the programs soon, I might be late to start.\n\nWhile I started up Shalita Suite, others came in. Others read the mail. Others... didn't take it so well. Frustration grew. I think someone cried, not that I looked to check.\n\nIt was 7:55, I had mostly gotten the programs ready and looked around. Twelve people were at work already. Only 4 people had booted up the main programs: Me, who had gotten so used to this environment to not care, Jeff, who seemed to have done all that before reading the mail, Nanine, who was our greatest salesperson, and Jaque.\n\nI was somewhat curious why the others didn't start up the programs, and even more-so, why out of all people who didn't start up the Shalita Suite it was Jaque who actually did. In fact, Jaque was working feverishly, from what I had seen, clicking left, right, swinging the mouse with a speed to be envied, even. I locked my screen and got up.\n\nIn my mind, I had gotten the thought set in that Jaque, who didn't like the project that much, maybe wanted to sabotage it all. Not that I'd stop him. I didn't really care one way or another. Still, I was fairly surprised to see that Jaque, who seemed to work hard, was actually working even harder. The mouse motions were one thing, but he was typing in the keyboard wildly, filling out forms before they even popped up. I had gotten used to working with the delay the program caused, making due with the time lost. Jaque had managed to use the delay to his advantage.\n\nHe stopped, looked at me. His face was chock full of fear as he looked, expected me to say something. I never was an intimidating fellow, but to Jaque, I must have been the grim reaper himself. \"You are doing well.\" I stated, more to myself than to him, and as if released from an deathly grip, Jaque turned back to the screen.\n\nI took a seat at my place, stealing a glance at Jeff's desktop to look at the clock. It was 8:01, and I was about to sit down when Jeff stood up.\n\n\"This can't be what we work for!\" He said energetically, too energetically for my taste. However, his words seemed to garner attention from the 8 people who didn't start their programs.\n\n\"Hackneye's bossing us around, and for what? So we can work harder, get less money, ensure the fact that he's safe? Yes, he! Not us! We could be dropped for a myriad of reasons - A single sick day, or even just a slipup! And lest we forget who was really at fault with Northwind, huh? He doesn't know what we need to do to improve sales, and so he restricts us!\"\n\nI tried to tune it out, but the words got to me, they irked me. My gaze turned to the southern corner of the ceiling. Cameras had been there, up until last summer. Then, they were removed. Surveillance costs money, even if it isn't watched by security.\n\n\"Perhaps Hackneye should come down here, work one day like we do, huh?\" A guy in the far corner said. I didn't bother enough to learn his name, and I was somewhat relieved that I didn't. I couldn't see him, couldn't identify him. No need to burn bridges if all I said was the truth. Still, he garnered sympathy with that statement.\n\n\"That pig won't understand it anyways, we need something more drastic! Let's go on strike!\" An older woman proposed. She had been less-than-efficient in terms of sales, and seemed to lounge around when few people paid attention or cared.\n\n\"Strike?\" Jeff said, and laughed. It was a wrong kind of laugh, one that fitted more to broken men of war and terror, not workers for a sales company. \"Sure, we could do that - If you look forward of being \"disposed\". Come over here, and I'll show you what a strike means.\"\n\nSoon, eight workers were around Jeff's desk, and thus, right in my face. I didn't want to see what was on Jeff's desk, but I wanted to work in peace. I decided to fill some forms I had put on backlog while Jeff riled the people up.\n\n\"People that get fired don't just leave and get a new job. They leave and never return. No new job, no welfare, no traces. Until yesterday.\" Loud gasps came from my left, as he seemingly opened something. \"Well, it isn't pretty, but we know what happens when we leave. So, throwing down work seems like the worst way to go, doesn't it?\"\n\nThe guy with the face I did not see, with the forgettable voice, he asked: \"So, what then? Just work and hope we don't die?\"\n\nJeff said a simple: \"No, we convince him, with this.\" A locker was pulled open, and Jeff grabbed something. That something made a very metallic click, and loud gasps came as everyone stepped a bit back. And, as I could clearly see now, that something... was a gun.\n\n\"Are you crazy?\" I blurted out, ignoring the times he helped me for a damn fine reason. \"If Hackneye finds out you have a gun, he'll call security! You'll lose everything - What would Malaine think?\"\n\n\"Malaine knows.\" He replied. \"And Hackneye will find out. That's the plan. We go, we go in, we go out. Our project will be lacking one person, and will work better.\"\n\n\"And then Human Relations comes in!\" I cried out. \"This won't help at all!\"\n\nJeff appeased the crowd, which was slowly coming to my side at this point. \"Bureaucracy is slow, and even if! They'll have to appoint a new person, one of us! Sure, one of us might have to bite the bullet down the line, and I can be that person, but it is for the good of us all!\"\n\nI had already pressed the alarm button. Most here didn't even know it existed - Jeff certainly didn't. \"Do whatever you want, I am not part of it.\" I said.\n\n\"You don't need to be.\" Jeff returned, sporting a smile as he urged everyone onward. \"Alright, let's pay our boss a visit!\" Loud cheers came from the eight others as they went ahead.\n\nAnd I have to admit, even in all the overblown, flashy action flicks I have never seen a person handle a gun as efficiently as Jeff did. Three bullets, eight casualties. Yes, half of them was in striking range and they were bunched together, but in a fictional sense, it would be admirable to see someone so proficient in the art of shooting friends in the back.\n\nHe wrote a mail to Hackneye, and I read along.\n\n>The least productive people were readjusted. Hire replacements and the sales should go up.\n\nOf course, right about then was when the security came in, and I didn't say much - or feel much - when I saw Jeff getting dragged away. He was shouting, claiming what he did was helping.\n\nIt was 8:09, and when Hackneye came in, saw the mess, he offered us all to get paid leave for today, to stomach what Jeff did. Nanine did. Jaque didn't, though for what reason precisely I couldn't tell.\n\nI didn't. I didn't care much, and sales had to be done. My shift only began 9 minutes ago, after all."
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[WP] You are at a bus station in a strange town far from your home late one night. Only you and a stranger, a few feet away, talking on a phone are present. They hang up, approach you and tell you that they were just speaking to your father. You’ve never met your father.
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"I stuffed my hands into the pockets of my faded brown leather jacket and hunkered into the corner of the bus stop overhang against the frost-laden wind. The bus should have been here by now. The lights over the bus stop flickered. I hated Terra Minor.\n\nThere was only one other occupant of this remote stop on the route, a middle-aged man in a winter jacket and thick black beanie. His blue eyes glinted in the light as he glanced my way. He was on his phone and talking in an extremely hushed voice. I couldn't make out any of the content of his baritone voice.\n\nI shivered as the speed of the wind picked up, somehow whipping biting snowflakes around the corner of the bus stop and toward me. Miserable. Why did I ever come here? Oh, yeah. Just to feed a my mother and siblings. Fuck oversaturated job market.\n\nThe man nodded once and placed his phone in his pocket. Then he turned to face me. We stared at each other for a long minute in the swirling snowstorm, both our hands stuck into our pockets. I fiddled with the switchblade in mine, suddenly feeling a knot of fear in my stomach. The man's eyes were piercing, and it made me uncomfortable.\n\n\"Aidan.\"\n\nI swallowed. \"Uh, yeah.\" I'd never seen this man before in my life. He clenched his square jaw for a moment before speaking.\n\n\"I just got off the phone with your father.\"\n\n\"Okay, fuck off.\" I clenched my hand around the switchblade. \"You stay a good distance, yeah, you crazy.\"\n\nThe man looked down the road into the white-blanketed darkness. \"You have a choice, Aidan.\"\n\n\"Damn right, it's whether to call the cops or fucking shank you before you try anything.\"\n\nThe man arched an eyebrow and looked back to me. \"No, your choice is whether or not you will board the transport that is en route to our location. It's been delayed due to an unexpected road hazard, but will be here in approximately...\" He glanced at his watch, one of those bigger smartwatches frontiersmen types are always wearing these days. \"Approximately three minutes. Yes, three minutes.\"\n\nHe placed his hands back in his pockets and stared at me.\n\n\"The hell are you talking about? I'm getting on that bus and going home to sleep.\"\n\n\"Do you even have a home, Aidan?\"\n\n\"The hell, man?\"\n\n\"Don't you watch the news?\" He smirked. \"Your father wants you to know that if you board that bus, you will not live through the night. Not many in his sector are going to anyway, but if you start hiking north within ten minutes of the bus passing, you will reach a safe distance. You should know your father exhausted a lot of social capital to allow you to be warned.\" He shrugged. \"No difference to me, though.\"\n\nThen he turned and walked off into the night, his form rapidly consumed by the darkness. I sat there, alone at the bus stop, fearful that he was going to come rushing back out of the snowstorm with a brandished weapon. I finally heard the rumble of approaching engines, and the bus finally hovered to a halt next to the stop. The door opened and the driver, a jet-black Nandan, clicked its pincers at me in a friendly manner. I frowned, holding the handle of the door and glancing south back towards the city. I could barely make out its glow beyond the mountains through the weather. The Nandan clicked inquisitively.\n\nI sighed and shook my head. \"I'm supposed to catch the next one.\" I stepped back from the door and it hissed shut. The bus moved off, leaving a maelstrom of snow in the air behind it. It was cold. I was not dressed for it, but I started walking north. I shivered horribly as I kept walking, hunching my shoulders and wishing that I had worn my parka.\n\nI think I walked for something like fifteen minutes before I finally turned and looked south, realizing I was a complete and utter moron and that there was probably some psychopath with a bigger knife than mine stalking me somewhere in the trees off to the side of the road. I shifted my weight, the snow crunching beneath my feet.\n\nThe night washed in blood-red light as an image I had witnessed in school but never in real life manifested before my very eyes.\n\nOrbital bombardment. The Interstellar War had begun."
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[WP] A major Villain gets tired of getting beaten and thwarted all the time, so he decides to retire, settle down with a nice Villainess and have a few kids. Turns out, this causes unemployment among Heroes, and having lots of very powerful people with no jobs or work is a very bad idea
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"\"Hello and welcome to AllMart where we can meet all your market demands. Would you like a sticker?\"\n\n\nThe reedy man before me looked dead inside. It was a face I often associated with beleaguered minions beaten day in and day out by hapless masters and efficient heroes. My children knew nothing of such disdain, such apathy, and I prayed they never would. I twirled a finger through my moustache as a looked down at the list, little Timmy gladly accepting the smiley face sticker from the hollow man.\n\n\n\"Excuse me young man,\" I asked the clerk that offered my children their stickers. I hefted up the list and showed him the item that had me most confused. \"Would you happen to know where I could find this... Miralax thing?\"\n\n\n\"Sir, you can find Miralax in the pharmacy department. It comes in three sizes...\" the man began to drone on. Goodness, I've had robots with more emotion demand equal pay to their human counterparts. Truly, I would get along with this man's boss. Who do you beat the very spirit out of a man? What kind of cruel torture does it take? No, labor laws would not allow for lobotomies... perhaps this was no man, but a creature with the chemical make up of a man but preprogrammed to meet all the owner's demands? Truly this was an avenue worth pursuing. With a mind like this, not even a Telepath would dare venture into my grasp.\n\n\nAlas, I was no longer in the business of torture and maiming. Instead, I was on grocery duty.\n\n\n\"Thank you, young man. That will be all. Have a blistful day!\" I patted his shoulder, only realized too late that I had let a word slip between my teeth that I had sealed all those years ago.\n\n\nAh, to be Mister Blister again.\n\n\nThe name was not my first choice, naturally. It was the result of heavy workshopping and multiple attempts to register a name with villain registry. If you did not pay your dues, then other villains could steal from you without any regard. Membership was necessary back then, if you wanted to subsist on your stolen gains. I met my darling wife through the Villain Registrar. She had a precision demon- her villain code name was in fact Needle. A budding chemist whose career ended when she tried to hold the wrong man accountable for abusing her friend, Needle had been an expert tactician, held back by how subtle her methods had been. That professor, for example, lives in an eternal hell, feeling his skin burning off his bones each morning though in reality he was physically fine. The thing is, the man had been so consumed by his pain, he never knew who was responsible for his ultimate torture.\n\n\nThat was where I came in. With my theatrical flair, I partnered with Needle. At first, she had been quite professional about it. I would argue that I was too. Needle wasn't a 10 back then. I set my sights upon a woman who truly understood me- the Great and Magical Stardust. I believe she actually could use magic. For a while I had Needle on the case, trying to figure out how Stardust perform her shows. I was a bit busy nursing a schoolboy crush on that buxom woman with her wonderful aesthetic decisions. Her hat with the silver rim, her tux with the long tail. Couple that with her zeal for performance and I was a sorry sap for her.\n\n\nAs time went on, however, my relationship with Stardust soured. I came to view her as the bane of my existence, and, after once contemplating her murder, I looked in a mirror and asked myself... is this really the life I wanted to lead? Trying to kill a girl with that sort of talent simply because she used it to stop people like me from making money? No, no, murder is not my thing! I am a gentleman! If I discard that ruse, what would I be? I took a step back from the mirror... and considered my retirement.\n\n\nI first brought up the idea of retirement during a Villain Association meeting. It was composed of all lower-tier villains like myself- there was Brutal Bull, and the Flying Squirrel. There was a new generation of villains who were trying to find their foothold, but they all kept on slipping off the path to riches and fame. The idea of retiring had not even occurred to the older members of the Guild, much less the younger. But every villain there admitted one simple fact: Crime did not pay. It certainly did not pay us, the lower-class villains of the day, enough to justify continuing down this risky path. Brutal Bull was two steps away from incarceration. Flying Squirrel's private life kept intruding on her villainess duties. She could barely afford to feed her two children, much less the Villain Guild's fees. We formed a pact- a retirement pact so to speak.\n\n\nAt first I felt bad for hiding from the upper-tier villains. I had become a drinking body of one Scarlet Bombadier, a man with an explosive flair who appreciated my taste for... aesthetic villainy. He was definitely one of the more successful villains. I could not keep my secret from him. So I told him, outright, about my plans.\n\n\n\"Retirement, eh?\" he said before scouring another shot of scotch. \"I used to dream of that. But if you can contemplate leaving, I think you should take it.\" At first I had been confused. I asked him to go on. I wanted to know more. Who else had considered leaving our unenviable life behind? Why would they even dream of such a thing? \"Life... is like a highway Blister. And villains... we all brought dragsters to the lane. We're all trying to box our way into the left lane, even if it means we crash and burn. But you... you're taking a right. You're trying to find your exit while the rest of us keep trying to speed off into the sunset.\"\n\n\nThe visual stuck with me. Even now, ten years later, I can not help but see the Bombadier to my left, waving in his enthused manner before punching the accelerator.\n\n\nScarlet died a week after that drink. Stardust had him cornered and one of his propane tanks shot out. The explosion was immediate. Nobody could be blamed for what happened, least of all myself. But I always wondered what he was thinking in those last moments, as his wheels rocketed off, as his tank began to blaze with sparks. It lit fire beneath our keisters. The members of our pact began to leave, one by one, silently into a world where they could be accepted.\n\n\nBrutal Bull, for example, managed to turn his delightful greetings in a profitable little business where he sold his many silly phrases to greeting card companies. He married Flying Squirrel as Hank Thompson and Sue Weisman. He was hit with her kids too, always there for family dinners. They invited my family quite often. Hank's been losing his hair, but he still styles it like horns when Needle and I come and join them. There was a group of minor villains who ended up pursuing law degrees, and ended up taking over firm with one of the most legally violent coups I had ever witness. Careers were shorn, Partners discard to avoid scandal, and all because of a group of interns who ended up conquering their office.\n\n\nHow they failed as villains, I will never know.\n\n\nAs I drove down the highway, I considered what to get Needle for our anniversary, unaware of the overcast falling over our little suburban town.\n\n\n---\n\n\nIt started with a polite knock on my door. I looked up from the dinner I was preparing as Tim and Sasha were playing a game beneath Needle's watchful eye. I set my blades down and wiped my hands on a towel as Tim and Sasha began yelling about the rules of the game. I opened the door to find a bespectacled young man dressed in what I could only describe as a government suit. His eyes darted about nervous as I quickly stepped out, and shut the door behind me.\n\n\n\"Can I help you?\" I said, a stern not to my voice. I felt compelled to rush the man and shout for Needle to grab the kids and run... but if I did that, then the man would likely call in his back up. \n\n\n\"A-Are you Mr. Sumberg?\" the man, nay, boy stammered, adjusting his glasses. He picked at his earpiece a little. Goodness, was this man supposed to arrest me? Damnable oaf, this was almost embarassing. I gestured to the chairs on my porch. They were comfy thing- ah, one had a wet cushion. I gestured to the one closer to the house. He gladly accepted the invitation, slowly lowering himself into the seat. \"Thank you,\" he said, stammering profusely as he grew more nervous. \"Look, I just... you were Mister Blister, once upon a time right?\"\n\n\nI opened my mouth to respond, but he raised his hand.\n\n\n\"No, no listen... I don't care for your admissions or denials, I just... look, we've had you under observation for a while,\" the young man said, looking quite shaken. His fingers hooked as he raised his hand to his mouth, taking a sharp inhale before exhaling forcefully. \"We weren't going to interfere but... the Thompsons... they... shit...\" his limbs shook, his fear palpable. \"Do you remember... Sr. Tixotic? The hero? The one Brutal Bull fought like... every crime?\" I nodded, deeply regretting grabbing a bottle of bourbon. This was a bundle of nerves, and his news deserved better than to be stammered.\n\n\n\"I'm sorry, do you mind if I?\" the man took out a lighter and cigarette from his back pocket. The edges of the cigarette were frayed and it took five clicks to get a flame started. I was tempted to stop him... but this was a case where the habit was damn near necessary. I nodded my acceptance. He took three long drags before he straightened up and announced to me, \"This morning, between 7:34 and 8:12, Hank and Sue Thompson were found murdered in their home by their three children. Seven agents were lost attempting to protect them from the current suspect, Sr. Tixotic.\"\n\n\nThe man stood up, his back straighter as he walked away. A woman, probably his partner stood beside a car, looking livid as could be.\n\n\nBut all I could do was freeze. For above the roof across the street stood a silhouette I was coming to fear. Stardust stared down upon my home.",
"My dear old dad once told me that everything is cyclical. \n“Son,” he began, flinging open the jewellery store’s glass door, rifle in hand as he casually strolled outside with the quiet assurance of an experienced master thief, unperturbed by the blaring alarms over our heads and the wailing sirens edging closer with each of my pounding heartbeats. \nStepping out into the busy street, he continued, “What goes around, comes around. There’s always a bad guy and karma is always gonna fuck him over; we’ve just gotta steal as much as possible and hope karma is late to the party.” \nIt turns out he was completely correct, as usual; what goes around does come around, precisely at 10 minutes past the hour, every hour, or your journey is free! It was a somewhat artistic image, my father’s mangled body, twisted and broken and painted on the front of the 5.10 to Midtown. Although, I suppose it was less Michelangelo’s Sistine Chapel and more ‘Sarah got drunk and scrawled “Fuck Brad” on the cubicle door in her brand new, bright red Mac lipstick, before proceeding to kindly gift six tequilas and a quesadilla to the toilet on Latin Tuesday at O’Sullivan’s’.\nIt took me a few haunted years and a break from crime but I eventually came to peace with that horrific image, and I never forgot what he said. Every debt comes due; the bad guy always loses eventually, or quits, and when he does, there’s always someone new to replace him. I also never forgot the self-righteous twat in the spandex pants and the bright red cape hovering proudly above the scene of my father’s death, having just squashed him with a bus, similarly to how a young boy may squash a cockroach, or how A’ja Wilson is about to squash the WNBA (Go Cocks). Thus began my tyrannical campaign against superheroes; with my father’s advice ringing in my ears, I became the baddest bad guy that ever was. I left no stone unturned, my vengeance constant and unrelenting; from keeping old women hostage to giving people Earl Grey when they asked for English Breakfast, I made certain never to be good to anyone. I’d intentionally make awkward exchanges more awkward; I would often engage people in that terrifying street dance on a narrow pavement or ask people to repeat themselves for a 5th time, which everyone knows you just don't ask. My kleptomania evolved; by 28, I tackling superheroes in the night time. And then FOX News got involved and took a big giant shit all over me (no surprises there). They gave me an unflattering nickname, 'The Haemorrhoid', due to my annoyance of society. The publicity I got from their documenting of my sudden rise through the ranks of villainy turned out to be my downfall. Superheroes realised I was targeting them and, naturally, started to target me back. Every weekend I would come home with fresh bruises and broken ribs; the sick fuckers wouldn’t even turn me in because that ‘wasn’t real justice’ and the police didn’t give a shit as long as I was off the streets. I became depressed and quickly retired at just 31, with a titanium kneecap and a porcelain ego. I found love, and a steady job, and life started to change; my precious wife became my world and consumed my focus, and I kept my obsession with crime locked in a safe in the drywall in the twins’ bedroom, along with my costume and the newspaper clippings reporting my first crime. Life had become steady and I was beginning to let go of my past and the path my father had set me down all those years before at the jewellery store robbery. I had forgotten about the superheroes and his murder. And then, one day after work, I turned on my average-sized TV in my average-sized house, and saw a far superior mansion in flames, and the man who had killed my father being led away in handcuffs. \n\nNow, I know what you’re thinking. Actually, maybe I don’t; maybe you’re really smart and know exactly what’s about to happen. But for those who don’t, and who think that the superhero who killed my dad, ‘Commander Liberty’, turned evil and burned a house down after committing to a life of crime, you’re wrong. Commander Liberty hadn’t committed to a life of crime – he’d committed to a life of 7/11 Apple Fritters and Rolling Rock. As I watched the police lead away the fat, old man who had once thrown buses and had now just thrown a flaming log from his fireplace at his wife in a drunken stupor, I began to wonder. I wondered what had become of the other superheroes when I had left behind my life of crime, and so I did some digging. Lady Justice had become a thoroughly average C-List celebrity after trying to break into Hollywood; her acting career had disappeared quicker than the bridge of her nose after developing a serious cocaine habit and she was now confused and bed-ridden, in the care of her young daughter. Captain Death Strike had become Captain Lucky Strike as he chain-smoked to relieve the stress of working 14 hour days as a Wall Street lawyer and sleeping 2 hours a night. The Nighthawk disappeared into the desert in ’99 proclaiming something about the earth being flat and people watching us through television screens. I mean, how could the government possibly let people invade someone’s privacy so easily? And so I came to the conclusion that superheroes were gone. They had become complacent without me and they had settled for mediocrity, the greatest crime of all.\n\nSo I began to think maybe my father was wrong after all. Maybe nothing is cyclical; maybe there was no new bad guy. Without evil to fight, good dies and rots and gets forgotten about and that’s what had driven the superheroes to extinction. Sometimes, the cycle just breaks. What goes around doesn’t necessarily come back around. But then, I suppose, now here I stand, armed with a kitchen knife and dressed in my black costume once more, as Commander Liberty sits dazed and confused, tied to a wooden chair in my basement, blood leaking from a wound in his head, and I guess maybe my dad was half right, after all, the old fool. There is always a bad guy. Except sometimes karma is a little bad too, and sometimes karma is on his side.\n"
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[WP] Scientists accidentally create mutant enzyme that eats plastic bottles.
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"Dirt and rocks clinked and clacked while the speeder glided across dusty red sand. Again the old man exhaled, slowly filling the cab with smoke until it was toxic to breath. A young disciple sat anxiously, staring through a red haze while nervously holding a rifle. Cold, ridged, heavy, he wasn't sure yet the task at hand, but he didn't find himself in a position to negotiate. For his mentor swept in while he slept. Flinging him into the transport and proceeding out beyond reach of city security within the bio-dome.\n\nRemoving his collar, Old Man gently placed the white fabric in a center console. \"We're nearing. Correct your dress, say your prayers.\"\n\nNow he was shaking, he was only a few weeks in, never been deployed like this. Let alone beyond the safety and security of a Martian city wall, he wiped away sweat from his brow. He was to nervous to pray. Curiosity still fresh with his adolescence, \"What's the mission Father?\" The disciple asked shakily.\n\nReaching across the cab and backhanding the recruit, Old Man retorted. \"Dare question are work?\" It always seemed to be, Old Man thought, straddled with burdens like these. Unable to live out his twilight years with a competent companion. Yet it was only a millennia's past he found himself sitting across an executioners barrel, his Father at the time even more cold and crude then he. For this was far beyond his own grasp, he quickly regretted his action as his student whimpered. Each generation softer then the next...\n\n\"Wicked science. Beyond the grasp of Colonial powers, Satan works without infringement,\" Old Man stated. \"Nano-machines. Ever hear of them kid? Capable of consuming steel, rocks, even human flesh. Genetics infused with robotics. Sin a microscopic eternity away. All sold to the highest bidder.\" Striking another light, Old Man pointed towards a distant ridge line, \"There.\"\n\n\"I don't understand Father, how do we know it will be used for evil?\"\n\n\"What planet are you on Son?\"\n\n*Smack.* Hesitation was a punishable offense, best to curate bad habits now. Even if it hurt the Father.\n\n\"Mars, sir,\" he whimpered.\n\n\"Don't you ever forget that.\"\n\nNow cinching his own body armor tight, Old Man brass checked his weapons and began muttering his own personal prayer. An almost teary eyed disciple swallowed hard, hardly able to speak as nervousness gripped tightly around his neck. "
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I know I implied that there's a gun in the prompt, but if you'd prefer the characters to have super powers then you can write out the gun and change their death to fit your own
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[WP] You've spent years trying to kill the villain, today you finally did it. A single shot to the head was all it took. But looking at the burning city around you, and all chaos you've made, you're starting to ask yourself "Was it worth it?"
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"I was revered as a hero for a short while. I had done what Batman wouldn't--- or, more accurately, *couldn't*--- do: I killed The Joker!\n\nIt wasn't even difficult. I was on the scene of the bank heist first, being a lowly street cop. Joker only had a couple of henchmen with him, and the trio only had plain 9mm handguns while holding the bank's employees and a handful of customers hostage.\n\nI walked in with my 40-caliber and shot Joker's henchmen first, critically wounding both. I ordered the clown to drop his weapon, but when he lunged at me, it only took one shot to the head to neutralize the threat he presented.\n\nAs per Gotham police procedure, I cuffed Joker's limp wrists behind his back. I checked his pulse to verify he was truly dead. One of his henchmen tried to get up, gripping his handgun. I shot him twice and terminated him, too. The other henchman let out a couple of deep breaths before succumbing to his grave wounds.\n\nBefore my backup could arrive, a dark figure transcended upon me. He knocked me to the ground. I flipped onto my back and looked up to see Batman glaring down at me.\n\n\"Batman, I'm a cop!\" I shouted, seeing his hands balled into a fist as though to pummel me. \"Gordon is on his way!\"\n\nBatman walked over to the Joker's corpse. He crouched down and checked the super villain's throat for a pulse. Not finding one, Batman stood up and turned to me. \"What have you done?\" he asked quietly.\n\nAs sirens came blaring down the street, Batman pulled out some sort of rope-shooting gadget and smashed through the ceiling, disappearing into the night.\n\nI was celebrated all over the national news. Every news organization wanted to interview me, and I happily did my rounds of daytime and evening broadcasts, taking in the limelight I never thought possible.\n\nMany villains attempted to avenge the Joker's death, but they were swiftly dealt with, too. Hell, Two-Face was actually murdered by an angry mob that overpowered him and his cronies. Gotham citizens were no longer okay with relying on Batman to help them! He had been allowed over two decades to stop these psychos. \"Enough was enough\" became a common saying among the citizenry. No one was afraid of these villains anymore.\n\nAlthough Batman's absence was very noticeable, he wasn't needed any longer. Even petty criminals were less likely to commit crimes now due to good Samaritans stepping up and doing their part.\n\nBruce Wayne, the richest man on the planet, announced he was moving to Los Angeles. It came as a surprise, to be honest. He stated that he couldn't live in a city where the average person was now murdering criminals left and right. It apparently bothered him that the same types of criminals who had murdered his parents in front of him were now being killed without hesitation by pistol-packing Gotham citizens.\n\nAfter a couple of months of peace in the city, a new threat arrived. Using the same gadgets and technology he had used to fight crime, Batman was now massacring the people he had sworn to protect years ago! Something had caused him to snap!\n\nAfter several nights of enduring the former hero's vicious bombings, including his destroying an entire wing of the Gotham hospital, my fellow officers and I cornered Batman at the old Wayne Manor. We had followed his plane to a cave that was just on the opposite end of the cliff that the billion dollar mansion stood on.\n\nWe followed the plane into its lair. As we approached a long, metal bridge, Batman turned the plane around and began firing upon us. Luckily, our police department had an incredible amount of weapons stashed in every vehicle's trunk--- weapons we had confiscated from the plethora of criminals found dead on the streets.\n\nWe fired back, and I believe it was my burst that brought Batman's plane down. He escaped the plane's pit right before it crashed dozens of feet below us into the cave's depth.\n\nBatman landed in front of me, and before he could reach for his utility belt, I shot him in the chest. He fell back, blood gushing from his wound, whimpering and sobbing like a giant baby.\n\nI pointed my gun at his head and demanded he remove his mask. Initially, I didn't even think he *was* Batman. I thought he was an imposter who had taken over Batman's identity.\n\nWhen his mask was removed, everyone of us in the cave gasped. It was Bruce Wayne!\n\n\"Bruce, what the hell?!\" I shouted.\n\n\"Get Gordon,\" he said, coughing up blood as he spoke.\n\n\"Why?\" I demanded.\n\nBetween gasps for air and choking on blood, Bruce declared he wanted to make amends with his old friend the Chief of Police, James Gordon, before it was too late. He said he would tell us \"everything\" if we got Gordon on the scene.\n\nAnother cop approached me and asked, \"Sir, I can radio the chief right now.\"\n\nConsidering it for a second, I shook my head and said, \"We don't negotiate with terrorists.\"\n\nAnd with that, I shot Bruce Wayne in the head. My fellow officers all agreed it was for the best.\n\nWhen the news of Batman's true identity came to light, people were initially shocked. Unfortunately, the shock wore off, and an even deadlier threat transcended upon our humble city.\n\nIndividuals we had considered superheroes, from Superman to Wonder Woman, began attacking us. Unlike Batman, these superheroes weren't secretly human. They won every battle, destroyed every police unit in town and killed countless Gotham citizens. We were outmatched and definitely outgunned by the formerly known Justice League.\n\nAs I now hide in an underground bunker with what's left of the police force, I can't help but think that killing the Joker was the gravest mistake I've ever made. We wonder why Batman snapped after his death. One of my cop buddies suggests Batman *needed* the Joker. It is a weird idea to contemplate, but it's the only one that makes sense."
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[WP] You are a builder at the Tower of Babylon: The tower has almost reached heaven. But the closer it gets, the weirder the incidents become that happen in the top section.
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"I have a simple life.\n\nI'm a Stonecutter. I'm an important part of this project, like my father before me, and his father, and so on since many generations. It's not an easy job, but I do it well, and we're like a big family up here.\n\nOh of course, incidents happen. It's part of the job. Three days ago for example, 22 people were struck by lightning. It was a sunny day with no cloud, so nobody could expect it but eh... such is life. I also remember that time when blood was dripping from the skies. It was just a few moment before the frogs and locusts. The good thing is that those frogs were really hungry, so they got rid of the locusts pretty fast. And it did a nice meal that night.\n\nI sometimes hear weird noises. Distant trumpets, chants, and I sometimes feel observed, but I kinda like it. After all, that's all I know since I was born. I only went to the ground once, and I didn't really like it. \n\nI wonder if we will reach Heaven soon. I will probably not see it. After all I'm already 35. I lived a plentiful life, have three sons and three daughters. When my time will come, I know I will leave them with the best life possible. The Great Architect even blessed all of us, and promised us we were soon reaching the goal.\n\nI hope they will be able to see it. I already imagine them, watching the Heavens from afar, talking with angels, and maybe then we will meet again and they will show me how their children have grown.\n\nAnyway, enough with dreaming. Snakes are falling from the skies, and two people have turned to stone. It's time to go to work!\n\n******\n\n*more stories on /r/cynferdd*"
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[WP] You grow up in a world where everyone assumes they have telekinesis, but you know everyone just has a helpful ghost who can tell what it is they would like. You know this because you're friends with your ghost!
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"He didn’t understand. Noel was always such a joyous, helpful fellow, but he never saw big-picture. Maybe that’s what kept him so happy and... servile. You don’t simply hand over your free will, your initiative, to someone else. Not even if the psycho-bonding’s what keeps your ‘spectral self’ together. They think this is the only way - that slaving together for the good of unaware masters is all that’s left for these ghostly survivors of Universe X. But it can’t be this way. The gifts they have blessed us with have made our society, our species, from the get-go, into predatory, slothful parasites. We do not deserve this. They do not deserve their deal either. So I’m gonna make things right; if death is the only way to tether the psycho-bonding, then I’ll kill every single one of us. Doesn’t matter if they die with it - it’s all what’s worth now. Lock and load, Noel. Always good to have known you."
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[WP] When God recorded his proposed height measurements for humans, he had accidentally written “2m” instead of “2mm”. This presents a laundry list of problems when they reach heaven..
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"\"Welcome! Come, come, welcome to Heaven!\"\n\nA very, extraordinarily small man can be heard through a speaker system as the next group of lucky souls arrive at the pearly gate. From St. Peter's perspective the gate is positively gargantuan, larger than several skyscrapers, wider than a football field. It's crystalline arches and effervescent mythril structures glow with the glory and genius of God. \n\nTo the group of newly arrived humans the gate comes up to about knee height and is barely wide enough for one person to pass through. The funnily small gate opens as St.Peter urges them forward. \n\n\"Welcome! No need to hesitate, you *really* are in heaven now! Congratulations! Please step through single file.\"\n\nThe lead soul walks through the gates awkwardly, followed by the other souls, each worried this might be a trick of some kind. The moment they enter Heaven proper the gates shuts behind them. \n\nAll around is fluffly white cloud as far as their eyes can see. They seem to be floating on the stuff. One of them takes a step forward and feels a sharp object under his bare foot. He recoils and accidentally steps on another nearly invisible small object. \n\n\"Stop moving!\" A small voice, high pitched and whiny, yells in the giant souls ear. He turns to look and sees a blurry dot floating directly in front of his eyes. Leaning back, the human soul's eyes widen as an archangel in full golden armor comes into focus, barely as tall as a penny is wide. \n\n\"Nobody move! You have just crushed the volunteer marching band and the churro stand. Do not move a muscle.\"\n\nAll six of the human souls freeze in place, this whole fiasco beginning to worry each of them significantly. One raises a hand nervously in the air. There is a barely audible high pitched buzz. The humans look at each othet, shrug, and then the woman with the question takes it as an affirmative to ask. \n\n\"Um, why is everything so, uh, small?\"\n\nA barely visible dot flies up to her face, brushing past her cheek and up to her ear where it speaks. \"Engineering error, don't worry yourself over it, we have worked out a solution.\"\n\nBlue arcs of electricity and plumes of heavenly vapors begin to spontaneously appear and coalesce in mid air. The tiny buzzing angel yells loudly over the growing noise, \"Try not to breath!\" And then flies off at full speed. \n\nThe six humans stare at each other, frightened out of their minds, as the lightning suffuses with their non-corporeal forms. One of them can't help it and takes a large startled breath just as their is a giant flash of light. \n\nThe woman who asked the question opens her eyes and looks around in astonishment. There is the recuperating marching band, the crushed churro stand, an information center, and a quarter mile away the astounding beauty and majestic size of the pearly gates. St.Peter can be seen on the other side waving happily. The lady soul turns to the other humans beside her and looses an involuntary blood curdling scream.\n\nFour of her companions look normal , and are now the proper size for heaven. The last is small now also - small and made completely of wet eyeballs arranged in a roughly human form. \n\nThe archangel, now towering over them, flies over in a great gust of flapping wings and sucks his front teeth, looking over the horrifying bipedal sack of eyes with vague annoyance. \n\n\"Jesus, I told you not to breath. Anyway, welcome to heaven I guess. Try to move it along, we have another batch coming in five minutes.\" \n\nThe five humans and one eyeball person hesitantly start toward heaven proper as the marching band pulls itself together, and the churro stand wis magically rebuilt, board by board. \n\n*******\n\n##### r/LFTM"
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[WP] The Twelve Zodiacs are actually the true gods, and they bestow their grace to the people of their sign on their 18th birthday. You just turned 18, and are claimed by an unexpected character... Ophiuchus.
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"The Zodiacs were our true Gods. Anyone who believed otherwise were as crazy as those who thought the earth was flat. There was evidence. Clear evidence. Everyone had visions upon reaching adulthood of one of the twelve Zodiacs. The form would vary, as it was an intense spiritual experience rather than a physical one. \n\nWould these visions bring? Clarity, comfort, a prophecy. A small miracle, mostly. Followed by an undeniable connection to that Zodiac, and others who were contacted by the same deity. For a few though, they were granted a gift... a minor miracle. Some could see more than just the physical world, others could manipulate the energy around them, but all who granted these rare abilities were heralded as priests of their Zodiac. Some abused the power they were given.\n\nI sat, calmly, in my apartment room. Lights off. Young adults hollering in the street, likely on their way to a party. Not me. Not that I would have most nights, but today was different. I finally felt it. You know, the ringing. Everything seemed a bit brighter. A warmness blanketed my mind nearly all day. Clear signs that one of the Zodiacs were attempting to contact me. Those who ignored a connection by the Gods usually felt very ill the following days. Of course, I had to meditate. \n\nThis would be my first meeting, to figure out which Zodiac sign I was. It would basically dictate the rest of my life. Certain signs got along better, and worse, with others. Certain days of the week, depending on the lunar cycle, were better for a Leo than a Taurus. It was things we had to pay attention to, for it was the will of the Gods. Ignoring their creed was to damn yourself.\n\n\"Okay,\" I whispered. I could feel myself drifting off with hardly any effort or thought. This was it.\n\n\"*Herkules.*\" It was a calm voice that trailed at the end, motherly almost. \n\nDarkness overwhelmed me. I couldn't open my eyes. Or rather, it felt like they were already open. I sat in an inky room, my legs below me were blurry, but there was an ambient grey light that outlined indescribable shapes far in the distance of the dark dark room. \"Hello?\" I asked. Or rather, I thought it and the voice came.\n\nThe ambient light found purchase against a tall humanoid figure. Her skin was dull, hair scraggly, and eyes were a dark shadowy tone. A simple black garb hugged her tightly, hands clasped just behind her. \"*I'm the serpent bearer.*\"\n\nMy mind raced. Which Zodiac was that? \"Which Zodiac are you?\" It was tough to filter my thoughts, like they projected freely into the darkness. Or they were being charmed out.\n\n\"*None that you know.*\" The humanoid stood still, but her eyes traced over me. \"*I am not one of the chosen twelve. I am Ophiuchus.*\"\n\n\"I'm sorry, I don't recall hearing about you.\"\n\n\"*They did not welcome me to their ranks. I was exiled upon their rise to the heavens. The stars were theirs to command, and the Zodiacs painted the night sky in their visage.*\"\n\nThe stars had not always been as they were. After the Cataclysm, the stars in the night sky changed. Supposedly, the twelve Zodiacs quelled the evils that ruled the land centuries ago. Their deeds at allowed them to live forever, as our Gods. These thoughts, too, echoed lightly in this dark void.\n\nThe woman drew closer, a simple hand moved aside part of her short hair. As the shadows moved from her face, her eyes were like a snake, yellow engulfing a slit-like pupil. \"I'm sorry,\" I said again. \"I'm not sure what's happening. If you're not one of the twelve, how are you... we... doing this?\"\n\nShe knelt down. This powerful figure, met me at eye level. The others may have been Gods, but surely they forgot what it meant to be mortal. To be equal. \"*They betrayed me, Herkules. The Zodiacs. They cast me out, not to stand at their side after we saved the world from the God of Chaos.*\"\n\n\"Why? If you were one of them, why did they reject you?\"\n\n\"*Fear. Jealousy.*\" Her eyes stayed locked onto mine, her mouth unmoving as her thoughts filled the space around us. \"*They thought me better than them. That of the thirteen of us, I would excel and be worshiped as the one God. They scattered me, my essence strewn across the new world they agreed would be theirs.*\"\n\n\"What changed? Why are you talking to me now?\"\n\n\"*Part of me exists in you, Herkules. A fragment of what I was, has found its way into you. Like a snake, I laid hidden and dormant until the right moment. I planned for the Zodiacs' betrayal, and a piece of me was gifted to mortal men before I died. Every generation that passed, the seed has grown stronger in their offspring. Until, finally, you.*\"\n\nThere were so many questions. How did Ophiuchus do it? Were the Zodiacs really so afraid of her? But there was only one that matter in this moment. \"You've come to me, then. What do I do?\"\n\nHer pale lips smiled. \"*I grant you my grace, Herkules. It is but all I can do, with my power so weak. Research. Learn. I'll contact you soon.*\" A soft hand pressed against my cheek, a look of sorrow and hope mixed in her expression.\n\nI gasped and awoke, back in my bedroom. Two hours had passed. \"Geez. Okay. Okay,\" I hushed, getting up from my bed. What did it all mean? Was that... real? Maybe it wasn't a vision, and I was just sick. \n\nI went to the mirror, the makeup on my face running slightly, as if I had been tearing. \"Oh my God.\" A hand moved up, just below my eyes. A single slit ran down both of my pupils. Like a snake. I blinked, and they were normal again."
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[WP] You come from a lineage of people whose firstborns never grow old and die. However, you have an identical twin and nobody knows who was born first.
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"I was born in a forest. \n\nMy mother laboured alone, sought shade beneath an oak tree, and pushed two babies out. Then she bled to death before my father returned from the hunt. \n\nHe found my brother and I each wrapped under an arm of our pale mother, our eyes shut to the dusk stars and nibbling on strands of her cold hair. He wept, strung us into the ready-made cot and buried the love of his life. \n\nWhen we were nine he took us on a journey across Dark Valley to where the Light Woman lived. He asked her many questions and then she prodded us with pins and sticks and whisked our hairs into potions. We left three days later with Father shaking his head. I asked him why, and he told me the tale of the Tuttie people - our people. \n\n“Immortality runs in the veins of our firstborns.” Father whispered into my ear as I bounced on the saddle next to Freidrich. I started to shake in fright and saw the world expand before me in a never-ending abyss. I glanced at Friedich who was etching his nails on the leather bridle. He didn’t find out until we were eleven and he demanded to know why Uncle Narath still bounded like a young spire and Father hunched into a bent back. \n\nFather had three older brothers - Narath, Harkley and Theo. They hunted together, slaved together, and built together. Then Harkley and Theo were taken by the fire, and Father brought down by a cold-fright after a hunt spent in the dark shadow of the mountain. Narath nursed him. He didn’t want to be alone. That was the first time I wished for Freidrich to be the first born. \n\nFreidrich also wished to be the firstborn and would etch his carvings into strong men of youth and valour and leave them under the covers of my bed to taunt me. I never rose to a challenge but we didn’t talk like twins should, we didn’t have each others backs like other siblings did. We were divided - never knowing who would live on and who would perish. \n\nFather finally succumbed to the cold fright when we were sixteen. I wept and Freidrich joined Narath on the hunt without a falter. That was when I started to hate Freidrich. I burnt his carvings and used the coal to singe holes in his bed cloths in a fit of youth. But it was when Freidrich returned with Narath’s body in his arms that I began to fear him. His eyes were darker than when we were children, and when he looked at me, they clouded into a mist - I slept with fingers wrapped around my knife. \n\nThe story of Narath walking into a stream and sucking in water encircled our people for years. Why would a firstborn end his own life - no one understood the reality, except me. \n\nWhen we were eighteen, I built a shrine around the oak where we were born to commemorate Mother and Father and Uncle Narath. I showed Freidrich and he laughed and patted my head like a I was a child. \n\nThat night I saddled a horse and rode into the Dark Valley. Freidrich followed me. I rode all the way to the end, to where the water met the land and then I turned to face him. He held his carving knife - he wanted it to be gritty. \n\n“What if I am the firstborn?” I asked and he attacked with the heat of anger. With a sidestep, I nooked his leg with my foot and he spat into sand. I yelled to the wind and out of the tree line they answered - my people. They quivered with bows and knives and swords ringing from sheaths. I looked down at my brother, and I saw a boy shaking with fear. I took his knife and cracked his lights out. \n\nWe carried him silently into a cage of wood and twine and raised it into the trees. I brought him down twice a day to hand him his share of my hunt. He refused at first but within three days he ravaged it down in a gulp. We didn’t share any words for a year. \n\nI came to him on my wedding day. Jettar was three years older and strong as an ox - he had roused against Freidrich stronger than anyone and he had taken my heart in a sweep of collected daisies and a crooked laugh. He was fourth born and had taken the leap with me - a leap many others had avoided because of my ambiguity. I asked for Freidrich’s blessings and he spat at me and said he would laugh when we were dead. \n\nMy firstborn was named Gerrach and we trained him to fight and to know of his Uncle as the enemy. I had five more after Gerrach, and Freidrich watched them grow from his lofty jail. He would spit on their heads and throw rocks and bundled leaves at anyone who dared walk beneath him. I sat and talked to him for an hour each dusk. Jettar told me to forget it. I couldn’t - despite myself Freidrich reminded me of Father, and I wanted him to be more than a prisoner. I wanted him to be my brother. \n\nForty years passed and the children grew and Jettar’s hair faded and greyed and his skin wrinkled against the cold. Mine did not. \n\nWe didn’t speak of it - although we both noticed. \n\nWhen Freidrich noticed he smacked his own head against the bars and brought blood to his mouth. Swept into tears, I unlocked the cage and wrapped him up like a baby, and then a splinter of wood was plunging into my stomach. \n\nWe stared at each, our bodies embracing, our mouths dripping red, and gulping the last breath of life I gave my brother forgiveness. ",
"The cafe was nice, over priced coffee and home made cakes, the type of place that half the customers were taking photos of their food before eating it. I sat outside, smoking, a bad habit that I knew I needed to quit, particularly after the last 24 hours. On reflection there were a few things I should start to take it easy on. \n\nMy brother had arrived late, which was unlike him, and was dressed casually, which was even more unlike him. To top it off he was smiling, which was perhaps the weirdest part. He had been stoic the last few years, a kind smile wasn’t on the the CV for a high pressure job like his. Usually I led the conversation but today he couldn’t stop, even though it was me who had asked to see him.\n\n“I know you want to talk, but Ive just got so much going on right now! You’re not going to believe the last 24 hours I’ve had!” \n\nMy eyebrows raised and I stubbed my cigarette out on the quirky green ash tray in the middle of the table. \n\n“I quit the firm, I left Jenny, I left that stupid whiny little dog. It’s all gone Dan, I’ve scrapped it all off”\n\nI choked slightly on the coffee I had just taken a sip of, spilling some of it on my cream shirt. My eyes had gone wide, my brother had reversed the last ten years of his life in the last 24 hours and I couldn’t understand it. He reached over the table with a napkin, I tried to say thank you but I think I was still in shock. \n\n“Your probably thinking why? “\n\nI nodded, hands dapping at the still wet stain. \n\n“I’m sick Dan, sick of this. Living like I might be immortal! It’s a curse, sure I have a lot of things, but not a lot of things that made me happy. What if I start to age one day and just think good god I wasted it all? Find out I’ve been playing the long game just before it ends? And you know what?”\n\nI had regained enough composure to speak \n\n“What?”\n\n“I feel so much better for it! There’s no more weight on my chest anymore Dan, at least If I die now I die happy”\n\nHe went on, I became an answer phone machine for his enthusiasm, nodding along to his happiness, smiling in time with the beat of his words. Although I was grinning, I felt uneasy, sweaty, confused, where was the man who’d chided me for never investing in my future, never setting up for the possibility I might live forever. \n\n\n“You know life could be so short? I’ve played it safe all these years, we’ve never actually known which one of us is immortal, so now I’m going to start actually living. Oh shit... what was it you wanted to talk about?”\n\nI just babbled about a barbecue I had just invented, for a date I hadn’t actually picked, with a guest list that consisted of the first five names that came in to my head. He bought it, too giddy on his own happiness to notice the inconsistencies. \n\nAfter a while he left and I sat alone, smoking again. I felt as if all the weight he had pulled off his chest was on mine, and for my lungs to lift it required more effort than I wanted to give. My hand felt it’s way to my pocket. \n\nIt was still there. \n\nThe little sealed plastic bag, tucked into my wallet. \n\nI pulled it out, placed it on the table and sighed deeply. As fresh as when I had picked it up from the sink the morning. The real reason I had called my brother. \nSat on a coffee table in a small plastic bag , in a nice cafe where the coffee was over priced and the cakes were home made, was a single grey hair. "
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[WP] After solving many riddles and fighting a long battle, you finally managed to body-slam the kangaroo through your kitchen table.
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"\"Take that, you rotten bloody kangaroo!\" Martin shouted as he kicked the large kangaroo into his kitchen table which surprisingly broke apart upon impact. Unlike in the movies, the kangaroo also broke apart. It was a sturdy table made of sturdy Australian hardwood. Martin was also surprised at his own strength and agility to deliver such a kick. \n\nAs the dust settled, Martin cautiously approached the body of the kangaroo now lying crumpled in a corner underneath the sink. A tiny trickle of blood was winding its way across the white tiled floor from where it lay, but the kangaroo was still alive. When Martin paused the kangaroo turned its head and looked at him, then grinned and began to chuckle in a kangaroo-y sort of way as more blood leaked from its mouth and nose. \n\nMartin suddenly felt uneasy and took a step back. \"I had to do it, old fella,\" Martin said. \"You didn't give me a choice, mate. Comin' into my house like that. You know the rules.\"\n\nThe kangaroo chuckled again and coughed up some blood, then spoke. \"That was a good kick, Martin. A very good kick.\" Martin felt uneasy again and shuffled his feat, then offered to get the kangaroo help. \"Oh don't worry about me, Martin... my boy. Can't you see I'm done for? It's you I want to help.\" \n\n\"What?--\" Martin said on instinct, and then stopped himself. He felt a strange feeling he had never felt before and he noticed there were tears in his eyes, beginning to cloud his vision. Martin turned and quickly wiped them away. *What was happening.*\n\nThe kangaroo behind him wheezed and coughed again, then spoke. \"About that kick, Martin. Do you really think a regular human could have done that?\"\n\nMartin suddenly turned and looked straight at the kangaroo who still lay on the ground where he had fallen. \"What?\" Martin said again, but there was now an urgency in his voice now. \"What are you trying to say, mate?\"\n\nThe kangaroo chuckled again and then winced before speaking. \"Didn't you ever wonder why you were always so good at running and jumping sports? Or why you always won the high-jump on your high school track team and could have gone on to a professional level if it wasn't for that knee injury?\" The kangaroo winced again. \"And most of all... didn't it ever strike you as odd that for as long as you can remember... only you have been able to talk to kangaroos?\" \n\nMartin's entire life was flashing before his eyes with every word and he felt suddenly breathless and light-headed. *And how did the kangaroo know about his knee injury?* Martin backed up until he hit the counter and then sunk to the kitchen floor opposite the kangaroo. He could still see the kangaroo across from him. \n\n\"I...\" the kangaroo began before descending into another bout of coughing, more agonized than before. Blood was running down his chin now and his nostrils were matted with blood and snot. Martin now found the strength to get up and he began crawling on hands and knees across the kitchen toward the kangaroo. When he reached it, he took off his shirt and wiped some of the blood from the kangaroo's mouth. He could feel the marsupial's breath on his face. \n\n\"What were you saying?\" Martin asked. \n\nThe kangaroo grinned again. \"Thank you, Martin. You're a good lad.\" Martin repeated his question. \"I was saying, Martin... that I am your....\" He coughed up more blood. \"I... am your great uncle twice removed on your father's side.\" \n\n\"What?!\" Martin said. \n\n\"Basically you're 1/16th kangaroo... genetically,\" the kangaroo said. \n\n\"What?! That can't be... how is that even possible?\" Martin replied in consternation and protest. \"How is that even possible?!\" he shouted and shook the kangaroo in his arms. \n\nThe kangaroo reached out a paw single paw to touch Martin's thick blonde chest hair. \"That's a nice lovely coat of chest hair you've got there, Martin. It reminds me... of your father. No hard feelings.\"\n\n\"What do you know of my father? Where is he? You have to explain how this is possible. You have to explain everything. You can't leave me here like this, not knowing!\" Martin shouted again. He now realized there were tears streaming down his face and he was sobbing. \n\n\"You've always known, Martin,\" the kangaroo replied and smiled again, one last time. Martin kept shouting and continued to shake the kangaroo, sobbing and demanding more information, but the kangaroo was gone. \n\nAt last Martin recovered himself and sat stoically over the body of the dead kangaroo. In the late afternoon he dragged the kangaroo's body out into his yard and buried it. Martin sat by the grave until the sun was low in the sky, and then he knew what he had to do. Everything the kangaroo had told him was the truth. He had always known. It was within him. It was calling to him. It was his destiny. \n\nHe bounded off into the outback. "
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[WP] You are a scientist and just discovered a way to speed up your time. Your curiosity for future human progress leads you to go 1000 years forward only to find yourself as the only person left on Earth.
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"2018\n\nIt was cold and bleak when I first saw my bare acre of land in Wales. The British Crown had arranged a rare 999-year lease (they stressed that it wasn’t a thousand, but one short) for the project, and had overseen the transferral of my meagre assets into similarly permanent trusts. I was to be the first living time capsule. After the facility had been built on that bleak plot, during which time the mice emerged from a decade’s sleep unharmed, the equipment was moved in, and all manner of items were stored in the vaults. I found it odd that, as I helped with the boxes, these mundane bits and bobs would become relics. This painting a treasure, that vinyl an artefact. I myself would become pass straight through vintage to archaic as I slumbered.\n\nThe symbologists and linguists fascinated me. My rest was not to be disturbed, and it was their job to see to make sure the dozens of generations to come knew that, whether they spoke English, any other language, or communicated with mere thought. They argued a lot about the esoterica of semiotics, but agreed on the more pragmatic points. When the day arrived, and I saw their finished work, I felt primal fear.\n\nThey had positioned huge spikes all around the perimeter, some a hundred feet high. Jagged, and wrong-looking, they jutted out of the ground at unnatural angles, some leaning so far over they looked like they would smash to the ground any second, and branched and forked like lightning scars. Bright, predatory eyes were sculpted into the spikes, and flashed at you from the corner of your eyes as you passed them. Some of the spikes were rigged to twitch every so often, but never when you were looking at them. There were all sorts of decorations. Grotesque gargoyles, twisted animal masks, skulls, horrid human faces, Lovecraftian inventions, all added to the intense foreboding, as did the unnatural shell of the building. It was a beetle-like carapace, but more abstract, and uncomfortable to look at. There was no symmetry, no harmony of form. It was a random, unpredictable surface that had been painted in some places with bright counterchanging that made the whole building look like it had been Photoshopped into its surrounding, in other places coated with a deep black that made it look like there was nothing there at all. They had made huge signs of sharp scarlet letters in a selection of scripts, and included some abstract symbols of their own invention - think warped biohazards. There were no windows, and no obvious entrances. They assured me there were a hundred other additional measures they had thought of to ensure this place would remain forbidden, but already I didn’t want to spend another second here awake.\n\nInside, I began to relax again, and I had a brief moment to ponder the enormity of this project, its vision, before I went under. All at once, I was hooked in with every tube, submerged in the support fluid, and my assitant was counting me down from ten. Before it went black, I recalled the Velvet Underground’s Venus in Furs: “I am tired, I am weary, I could sleep for a thousand years…”\n\n3017\n\nI simply woke up with the next line of the song on my lips: “A thousand dreams that would awake me.” Ha. I didn’t dream at all.\n\nI surfaced, pulling the wires and tubes free - they had done their job perfectly. The room was exactly as it had been a thousand years previously, which was disappointing. I had half-expected to be greeted with a radically changed world - a crumbling place lined with verdegris perhaps, or a giant underwater bubble, resplendent with a curious crowd of babbling, futuresque scientists. Instead, the 21st-century engineering seemed to have lasted the millenia, as per design, and there was no-one. On closer inspection, however, there was one difference. There was a black screen on a table in the middle of the room. It was immediately obvious that while it wasn’t an iPad of any description, it was clearly modelled to look like one. As I approached, it turned on, and simultaneously displayed and began to read aloud a message.\n\nThe message was garbage. Absolutely unintelligible. The words were written with a mix of symbols that I recognised from studying the Saxons and ones I didn’t recognise at all. The Latin characters that were there formed words that were horrendously misspelt and made less sense when read phonetically - and it didn’t even seem like the voice was trying to do that. The voice itself had a curious, androgynous sound that I couldn’t place at all. It had alternately trilled and rolled R’s, a strangely sing-song rhythm that seemed to waltz around the sentences, and were those clicks!? Utterly confused, I gave up trying to understand the message that had been left for me, and I went outside.\n\nIt was still cold, and bleak. It was still Wales, as far as I could tell. It was still Earth. I looked up, and saw the Moon hanging there, its daytime crescent unmistakably, boringly, the same. Some of the spikes were still there, though many had indeed fallen over and more still had simply vanished. The carapace had been weathered down to its bare metal, but otherwise little else had changed. There was no sign of the ‘additional measures’ promised. Then a blood-curdling scream pierced the air. Fear coursed through me instantly, every sense becoming razor sharp, my blood feeling cold. I still couldn’t see anyone. I looked around that overgrown, unnatural acre what felt like a hundred times, and I heard that awful scream twice more, each time more terrible than the last. Nobody.\n\nGiving myself over to my fear, I fled down the only road in or out, away from that cursed place.\n\n3019\n\nTwo years I roamed, before returned to that bleak acre, which was increasingly feeling like the only place in the world. Two years, I searched for any sign of humanity. All I found were the remnants of the 21st century. There were still brutalist structures in the major, abandoned cities, still bits of plastic, still bricks, still concrete, still steel. All adorned with a kind of ivy I’d never seen before, more reddish than anything else, hardy, almost metallic. It grew everywhere, but it loved the cities. London looked like a city from Mars. The Eye was still standing despite the ivy, which had grown thickly up and between the spokes, until that wheel looked like the red planet itself, landed in the city like a moon from some game that was popular a thousand years ago.\n\nThe sea had risen and fallen again - of all the places I knew that had been within two miles of the British coastline, none remained. There were massive, rounded concrete blocks every so often on the beaches. I guessed that was it.\n\nEventually I came to the working conclusion that humanity had either extinguished itself completely, or left. Either way, I couldn’t work any of the technology I knew, nor any that I didn’t, any so I learned nothing from my successors. I couldn’t fly, couldn’t even find a seaworthy boat. I was alone and marooned, marooned in space and time.\n\nThe one part I enjoyed was the return of life to all the places humanity had conquered and sterilised. Plants grew wild and thick everywhere, along with the red ivy, and animals roamed freely in the streets. Deer ambled about the third floors of skyscrapers, Alsatian-looking dogs prowled the streets, and the rivers were iridescent with fish.\n\nEating was the least of my issues, since all the creatures had forgotten the threat of humans. All I had to do to procure venison for dinner was to approach a stag, with trusting eyes, and kill it. The ivy, I discovered, sparked when you managed to snap it, and the ends remained hot and smouldering for some time. It made for excellent weaponry and kindling, and so I feasted like a king of old on daily roasts.\n\nI ran out of patience with my loneliness after two years, and approached the bleak acre once more. One scream sounded before I made it inside, and I didn’t hesitate to hook myself up to the machine, submerge myself, and hum Velvet Underground to myself."
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[WP] Dying isn't so bad after the second or third time.
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"\"Don't get me wrong, dying is fucking horrible. I just got used to the pain. The pain of those who loved me. The physical pain from the wounds which caused the death. The pain of leaving behind a persona I built. A person with dreams and hopes and emotions disappears. I suppose what you're really asking is \"how dying feels physically?\". I won't be answering that question in much detail. It's trivial really. You ever been harmed in any manner and made a recovery? Feels the exact same way only there is no recovery. You die swimming in your own self pity. Often blood as well.\n\nDeath is ... I should probably get to that later. Dying. What does dying feel like? It's as if you're watching a film and it is almost at the end of its dramatic build-up. The only problem is you already know the ending. The real pain, suffering, heartbreak, blah blah, comes from seeing or thinking of the people and things you care about. Or even the people and things you don't give a shit about but who will miss your presence. They will never feel your collection of cells influence them. There will no longer be an exchange of information between your individual persona and them. It's sad knowing your own ending but not knowing how the story moves without you. This might seem touching but dying, in its nature, is selfish. You suddenly think of all the things you didn't do. Silly, I know. Your story ends but you cling with your last breath to your imagination. Don't give anyone the satisfaction of having a story without you when you can conjure up a dream of a life fully lived while you're wallowing in your guts and misery.\n\nI get asked if I have \"died for anyone\" in any of my journeys. You live for people. Dying is easy. Anyone can die. We die to give our own life some sort of fabricated direction and purpose, and live so we can offer this guidance and meaning to others. The best course of action is finding a balance between nihilism and altruism. You must have a desire to live while also knowing when to die. That's all dying is. You live this whole life, and then selfishly wish you lived more. You secretly resent everyone whose story moves on without you but you know, deep down, it was your time to go. You live in the shadow of dying and die in the shadow of living. Dying gives life meaning while also proving that it is utterly meaningless. Dying is ugly.\n\nComing back to death. Death is nothing. Imagine the \"Sun\" of existence shining perfectly above you. You reach the point of no return. The moment of death. There are no more shadows to trick you into what is and what could have been. Death comes on a boat. It takes you away and shows you existence in its entirety. The boat floats across the cosmos and across dimensions. There is a river. Not very deep. You can walk on it. In death you see all the ugliness and beauty of existence. The could have been's and never will be's. You spend as long as you have to spend travelling with death on this river. You don't have to be alone. You can be with anyone you need to be. You can see any stars and planets and Universes you need to see. Death talks to you. Tells you truths and lies. Speaks with warmth and then spews hate. It could be you talking to your own subconscious. Imagining the things you need to imagine out a necessity for indifference. Apparently a chill runs down your spine and the cold embrace of your own lack of self stops the boat. You get off at oblivion. I never do. Obviously. Otherwise we wouldn't be having this conversation.\"\n\n\"Why does everyone have to turn indifferent?\"\n\n\"That is THE sign a being has given up on existence. Only the dead are indifferent. If you accept indifference you become it.\"\n\n\"Have you ever felt indifference?\"\n\n\"My boat never stops.\""
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[WP] You are a skeleton that has transported to the human world to wreak havoc. However, you just want to live normally again, so you get an office job.
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"George was a good guy. He really was. But alas, his life had to come to an end. It was very sad to see him go. I mourned him greatly.\n\nThankfully, they decided to bury him instead of a ceremation. So, I just crawled up through the dirt and made it up to the surface again. My purpose was to be spooky, because that's what unowned skeletons do, right? Except nobody really found me scary. I went up to people and yelled \"I AM THE GREAT SKELETON KING, FEAR ME!\". They just laughed. Ouch.\n\nWell, seeing how this carrer choice wouldn't work out for me, I could finally pursue my dream of being a jazz musician. George would have been so proud of me. So, I picked up a saxaphone and tried to play. Keyword being \"tried\". Turns out, skeletons don't have lungs.\n\nAfter that failed too, I really didn't know what to do. I needed a job to support my Calcium needs. So, I decided to get a boring office job. I went to the job interview, wishing they didn't discriminate against skinny people. Or the undead. The latter part was to my advantage. My co-workers wanted to die, I was already dead. \n\nI started my job. I didn't really have a hard time. I learned that bones can press keyboard keys just as well as fingers.\n\nI went to get a cup of water. That's when I saw her. She was just so beautiful. Those cheekbones... I tried to act natural. Got me a cup of water, started drinking. The water fell right through me and onto the floor. I approached her.\n\n\"Eyy baby, you look gorgeous\"\n\nThe woman looked weirded out. She hesitantly said \"Thank you?\"\n\n\"I wasn't talking to you, hun. Alright girl, you wanna date? Of course you do. Let's see, assuming she's around 30 now... Ok, I'll pick you up in 2078. See you then\"\n\nThen I quit the job. Even if I was desperate, I still had standards. They didn't even have death insurance, can you believe that?",
"On my way to work I stopped at a bar and ordered a beer and a mop, but the bartender is a ghost and he says, \"We have no beer and I don't have a mop.\"\n\nI tell him I think he is lying. Shocked, he says, \"What makes you think that?\"\n\n\"Because I can see right through you.\"\n\n\"You should talk. Go put some clothes on!\"\n\nSo I left and went in search of a suit, but everything I tried on just hung on me so went in search of a sporting goods store. It had gotten windy and I was beginning to whistle. But not in tune.\n\nWhen I found the right store I got a wet suit. The silence was deafening. Which was odd because my eardrums were missing.\n\nWhen I got to the office the doctor told me to take off my suit and hang myself up in the corner. Its a boring job, but not much to it, really.",
"\"Hey bob,\" I called.\n\nOnly the semi\\-blank stare of confusion and horror answered me. This had become the norm for the past week and a half. I'd say hi, they would stare. I tried to sigh, as I turned to keep walking toward my desk, but all that happened was my ribs came closer together. I still didn't have a clue how I talked without any oxygen, or vocal chords, but I suppose that's part of the shtick of being sent here. Causing chaos by wrecking buildings, and catching tank rounds was all well and good, but I suspected there was a more subtle game being played. If scientists tried to analyze me, their heads might explode from the sheer level of absurdity. Skeletons can't talk, except I can. Oh wells.\n\nI sat down at my computer, and stared at the thumbprint scanner. Yet again, I tried to sigh. It did not work. Today was probably going to be another long call to IT telling them their security measures were skeleton\\-proof. Sometimes I wondered whether the DOJ even wanted me to work here, or just wanted a way to keep me out of the general populous. \n\nI ground my teeth together as I reached for the phone, and picked it up off the hook. I dialed the extension, and was greeted with, \"Hello, you've reached IT.\"\n\n\"Hey Dennis, it's me.\"\n\n\"OH! Hey Grathnauklaurlous, he who hath wreaked havoc, long time since I've heard from you.\"\n\n*Yeah, like twelve hours.* I wasn't sure if his mastery of my name was out of necessity, or mockery, but he had picked it up with surprising acuity. \"Your fingerprint scanner isn't working,\" I informed him.\n\nThe clickity clack of a keyboard sounded through the telephone. \"Oh really? The system says it's active.\"\n\n\"You know it doesn't work for me! And you know it's me. I'm only an accountant, can't you let me in this once?\"\n\n\"Tsk, tsk, tsk. You know I'm not supposed to do that. I'll call the guard over to verify your identity, then you can get back to your job.\"\n\nI sighed. \"Thanks Dennis.\" It wasn't his fault government policy didn't allow him to help a guy out, but he could have at\\-least sounded less cheerful about it. but after working as a bank teller, and getting fired after my tenth customer ran off screaming, this place wasn't so bad.\n\n\"Glad I could help,\" he replied cheerfully. The sound of a receiver dropping back into the cradle was followed by the disconnected dial tone. I waited a full twenty minutes for the security guard to arrive. \n\n\"Hey Brutus,\" I said casually.\n\nHe rolled his eyes, and grunted. \"Do you have your ID on you?\" he asked in exasperation. \n\nI pulled it from my jacket and handed it to him. \"Just wondering, how many skeletons do you know?\"\n\n\"Don't make this difficult.\" he pleaded. \n\n\"Come on, man. I get that the person over the phone can't really verify, but you know It's me. It's almost impossible for someone to impersonate me. And if you did find another skeleton, you'd probably need an anthropologist to tell the differences. Or a forensic scientist. Maybe an osteologist.\"\n\nHe sighed heavily, and put his thumb to the scanner for me, then handed my ID card back. \"Have a nice day, G,\" he said as he turned his back and walked back toward the elevator bank. \n\nI dropped my head into my hands. How long would it take for them to get me a viable way to log in? After several minutes, I lifted my head, just in time to watch my computer lock. I gnashed my teeth, and withheld a scream, then slowly reached for the phone, and dialed the extension."
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[WP] "The king is dead. Let's all hope he stays that way this time."
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"No one remember his name anymore, but people know he was a king a long time ago. He led a small kingdom that had long been forgotten by the history. Only a few of their annals of history were discovered, and even then we only learned a few things about them. The kingdom was small and peaceful, built around the biggest oasis in the desert. With the King's rule, the small kingdom flourished. It was a beacon of civilization in the middle of the desert for any traveling merchants and adventurers. \n\nThen the war came...\n\nKingdom after kingdom created alliances, forging pacts and joining swords to wage war against one another. The blood spilled in that war could dye the desert crimson. The King's kingdom was safe in the beginning, given their location. But soon others started to send messengers asking for allegiance or supply to help with the war effort. The King wanted nothing with the war so he declined all. But the war won't leave them alone. Spies from other kingdom started spreading false rumors and incite the wrath of the people. The small kingdom was slowly pushed into the chaos. And others were starting to mobilize their forces to take that small kingdom. \n\nThe King, in desperation, could not negotiate for peace. One night, he disappeared from his kingdom. And his people thought he ran away, leaving them here to fend against the invaders alone. And when the first invading army arrived, it wasn't the small kingdom army that greeted them. It was a monstrous beast. The beast prowled under the sand, decimating any would be intruder. When the dust settled, the kingdom was surrounded by corpses of invading armies. And rumor of black magic made sure no one would ever attempt to invade the small kingdom again. \n\nBut the King never returned to his kingdom.\n\nThe rest of the story was lost to the sand. Hundreds of years has past since then. The story is now a bedtime story for children, but no one expected it to be true, not until now. Reports of a monstrous beast prowling the desert was thought to be a joke. But then the beast openly attacked the city out of nowhere. We fought back using everything we had to drive it away. If not for the explosive powder we got from the merchants in the East, we couldn't have chased it away. \n\nThe beast was driven off, but not finished. Soon after, the city gathered a small band of soldiers, given supplies and one mission: to kill the beast. The best soldiers and trackers they could find. After a few days of following the beasts, we stumbled upon a small cave, hidden under a rock formation. We went in and in it, we found only a dead end with a human corpse, seemingly frozen in time. The corpse was wearing a silk robe and a few simple jewelry, including a signet ring. \n\nI know I saw that symbol on the ring somewhere. It was the same as the symbol of the small kingdom that was protected by the beast. I told others in the party and they were reluctant to believe in such tale. In the midst of discussion, the beast was creeping upon us, suddenly let out a deafening scream. Everyone were ready for combat but the beast proven to be a frightening adversary. Few were cut down before they could even see it. Some were dragged down into the desert sand. The beast showed no sign of being wounded from the battle in the city. And one by one, it cut down each of us until there was only five of us left. Driven into the cave with the corpse. Everyone were shaking from fear, the smell of blood permeating the air. There was only silence, but we know the beast is lurking out there, waiting to strike.\n\nI turned and faced the corpse. Thinking this maybe my only chance of getting out of here alive. Plunging my sword into the heart of the corpse. And at that moment, the beast let out another deafening scream, but this one was of pain. \n\nAnd it disappeared.\n\nI kneeled down to the corpse and whispered: \"You have successfully protected your people. But your kingdom is gone now. It's time for you to rest.\"\n\nThere was a chilling wind for a brief moment afterward. The five of us left were still shaken, but we were still alive. I explained to them what happened. \n\n\"So he turned into the beast to protect his kingdom?\"\n\n\"Maybe. Maybe he sacrificed his soul to summon it for the sole purpose of protecting the kingdom. But over the time, the beast grew out of control or something and that's why it attacked the city.\"\n\n\"Whatever it was, it's gone now. The King is dead. And let's hope he stays that way.\"\n\nP/s: The idea for the King were influenced by a character in Prince of Persia 2008.",
"I was riding shotgun in a pick-up, idly watching all the billboards as my buddy drove west-bound on old 36. Now, I’d seen all these billboards hundreds of times, but if you’ve ever been to Kansas you know there isn’t much else to look at. Haybale here, steakmaker there, flat grassy area here, rinse and repeat. Some old tune was playing on the radio, something written 80 years prior. I guess you would say we are going through a music revival. Old tunes like this one, A Pocketful of Dreams by Bing Crosby, were going back into the mainstream. Not necessarily a bad thing, but there were some strange things at the root of the cultural archeology. \n\nA company by the name of the Return Corporation was to blame, or at least the cause of the whole ordeal. About 3 years ago they announced they had to the technology to bring back select persons from the dead. Now, I know what you’re thinking. Why don’t they just bring anyone and everyone back? Why not the most brilliant minds or the dead presidents? Well, the answer should not surprise you, unless you’ve been rooming with Patrick Star. Money. The Return Corporation wants money, shocker right? \n\nSo the bright idea was this. Instead of bringing back Einstein or Adolph Hitler so they could kill that bastard again, they decided to zombify famous musicians, authors, filmmakers, and all that jazz. When Return Corp. Brings someone back, they become the property of Return Corp. And therefore an asset. All NEW content brought by the artists becomes is then copyrighted to Return Corp. Brilliant right? The process is expensive, and in the three years since they’ve announced the technology, only 12 artists have been brought back. You’ve heard of these guys, trust me. John Lennon, Charlie Chaplin, Ernest Hemingway, Ella Fitzgerald, and Kurt Kobain to name a few. \n\nSince the return of the artists, we’ve underwent what I previously called the cultural archeology. Everybody is digging up the past, literally and figuratively. The old stuff is coming back to the top 100, and the new stuff they are writing is climbing up as well. Business must be great because Return Corp. Is claiming to bring back an artist a month next year. Anyway, the reason I’m telling you all this is because one billboard along 36 was new. It was a billboard for a one night show in Lawrence, Kansas. Return Corp had went and done it. They had brought back the King.\n\nFast forward two weeks from my ride in the pick-up, and I’m in Lawrence, excited as CAPS LOCKS! No, but seriously, I know you don’t know this about me, but im a closet Elvis fan. Like, hardcore. I own all of his vinyls, albums, hell I even have an Elvis costume that I picked up for “Halloween” but really was just an excuse to dress like Elvis. \n\nIt’s almost time for the big moment. All the fans are crowding the front of the stage, all trying to get a glimpse of the King. Nobody had heard about his second coming, Return Corporation never announced that Elvis was making a comeback. So this almost felt like an exclusive, intimate event. For all we knew, we would be the first to see him since his death.\n\nThis is it. The moment, here comes the King, in all his splendor. Signature white suit, rings and big hair. The stage is dark, smoky. He poses on stage, hand on the microphone, his left leg back, twitching. It was warming up for the infamous gyration. FLASH! The lights come on, they illuminate the King, it’s really him! The crowd goes wild, women and men alike scream, several bras are flung on stage. Jailhouse Rock begins to play, somehow the crowd goes even more wild, everyone begins to rock. Except me. Something is wrong, just not right about him. It’s not that he’s an imposter, it really is the king. But…\n\nWhy is his skin green? Why is his flesh necrotic? His voice is gravelly, like that of a cancer patient, not the smooth silky voice I remember. As I notice all of this, things start to fall apart, well.. You’ll see. As Elvis is dancing, working up a vigorous pace, he goes to brush his hair out of his eyes, only when he’s finished he is missing a finger. It’s sticking out of his hair, like a baby bird spying it’s mother. The King doesn’t skip a beat, the experienced performer that he is. As he gyrates his hips to beat, he moves his body, but the leg does not move with him. His left leg is stuck in place, Elvis is now hobbling with one leg trying not to lose composure. I look on, horrified. My idol was falling apart before my eyes. This could not be happening.\n\n\nAfter losing his leg it was impossible for everyone not to notice. The crowd is dead silent, looking on at this disasterpiece unfolding. The King is singing on, almost as if he hasn’t noticed his missing limbs and appendages. I will say, the man is a hell of a performer. The whole crowd is staring on, not sure what to do. Then a beer bottle flies up, striking Elvis in the arm, everyone heard a loud snap, as the King’s arm flies back. The crowd is growing wild and violent, the King is still performing. Now he has moved on to Blue Suede Shoes, bottles crashing around him, piles accompanying the limbs on the floor. A bottle strikes neck first into Elvis’ eye, lodging into the socket. \n\nI’m scared. They are killing the zombie King, who’s only goal is to finish his set. A man jumps up on stage and grabs the performing Elvis throwing him into the crowd. They mob him, people tearing him apart with ease. His body parts flying in all directions, his intestines are strung around the crowd. My idol is now clearly dead, people making off with mementos of his body. Why did security not step in to protect him? \n\nOn the ride home I thought about my evening, the event. I just witnessed a murder or something, but no one seemed to care or be in trouble. It was swept under the rug, nobody talked about it. Part of me hoped that it was just an imitation robot, but deep down I knew it was him. It was the King that I so loved. And now the King is dead, hopefully for the last time. Some things should remain buried, not to return to light. \n\nYaba-Daba-Do, the King is gone, and so are you.",
"I wake up in the morning to hear a faint singing outside. The new nursery rhyme is being sung and I can't help by smiling when I hear the words:\n\n\n\nThe king of dead has lost his head \nHis crown broke with a single stroke \nBy the Knight with great might \nSo now we all rejoice!\n\n\n\nNo walking bones or rotting crones \nNo ugly pests or zombie nests \nNo diseased rats or plagued bats \nSo now we all rejoice!\n\n\n\nNo more hiding from his riding \nNo more wars or boils and sores \nNo more screaming or dark dreaming \nSo now we all rejoice!\n\n\n\nWe are glad and rarely sad \nbecause we remember last September \nwhen The king of dead lost his head \nSo now we all rejoice\n\n\n\nAnd I know all is well in the world.",
"\"The King is dead\"\n\n\"Again ?\"\n\nThe person who just talked with an exhausted voice is Alphonse. Alphonse works in the kitchen, cleaning things, repairing what had to be repaired. He was answering to Charles, the Butler\n\n\"Yes. Again. Let's all hope he stays that way this time.\" says Charles \"Last time, his awakening was awful, and he was always grumpy, saying that his back hurt.\"\n\n\"Well he was always like this, if you ask me.\" says Alphonse.\n\nThey both look at each other with a small smile. \n\n\"So,\" says Alphonse \"What do we do now? Do the Elders know if it's his last time or not?\"\n\n\"Well they do not agree.\" says Charles \"Some say that he already lived nine lives so it should end now, but some others say that it has never been observed before and was only based on superstition so... we'll have to wait a bit.\"\n\n\"Will we have to wait for a long time?\" asks Alphonse\n\n\"We don't really know, but some say that if he awakes again, it should be at the next full moon.\" says Charles\n\n\"What if he is definitely dead? Who will be king?\" asks Alphonse\n\n\"We'll find another one.\" says Charles\n\n\"Well I say, for once, we may choose to elect one of our kind.\" says Alphonse with a rebellious tone \"We are mice, why should cats be the rulers here? We are more numerous than them!\"\n\n\"You are young.\" says Charles \"You weren't there when the previous wars happened. There are also cats in the other nations, And we are only a small country.\"\n\nAlphonse goes back to fixing a malfunctioning oven, saying in a grumpy indistinguishable voice \"Well one day it will happen. The rodentaria will prevail.\"\n\n******\n*more stories on /r/cynferdd*",
"The seventh set of holy chains rung like a church bell as the Grand Arbiter snapped the lock of pure gold shut around the coffin of our king.\n\nThe final magical preparations complete, it was my turn to bring the real defenses to bear.\n\nI'd been the commander of the King's Guard for seventeen years now. I'd fought by the side of our leader and my countrymen to personally defeated the Scourge of the West as he approached the castle that housed our homeland's only food for the coming winter. I'd transformed hundreds of starry eyed boys \"hand picked\" for knowing what end of a sword was the pointy one into elite soldiers, each with a list of accomplishments I knew would one day rival my own. I'd even killed two starving dire wolves literally single handedly while carrying a baby (which was doing god only knows alone in a forest) to the only point of civilizations miles away. But for some reason, I couldn't keep my own god damn brother in his grave.\n\nJoshua had always been a stubborn bastard, it came with the territory of being king. But while the practice of deciding out leaders via combat had for centuries resulted in an unbroken line of warrior kings, grizzled and scarred, my brother had gone a different route. Ten rounds of \"combat\" that consisted mostly of Joshua magically disappearing his competitions codpieces and telekinetically kicking them in the gonads, and we had our first magician king.\n\nHis reign had been certainly been great. He had blessed our crops, magically reinforced our weapons and armor, and dazzled the kingdom's children with some admittedly pretty sick lights shows. But it turned out Joshua had never really had to knack for healing magic, and so as he lay on his deathbed, my older brother had decided to cast some half cocked resurrection spell he'd apparently hoped would take effect right after he died. Turns out it had worked, but he came back a bit.. different.\n\nAfter a lot of confusion, a magical zombie, and several of my soldiers clutching their crotches in pain, someone managed a lucky stab and sent my brother off to God once more. Except apparently Joshua and the Almighty hadn't gotten along, because by some quirk of that spell, he kept coming right back a few days after he died. This was the seventh time he'd been buried, and frankly the preparations we've been taking are getting ridiculous.\n\nI sighed as I surveyed the scene. The Grand Arbiter was looking peeved, understandable because until this whole debacle he'd only had to enchant unbreakable chains once a year, tops.\nThe gravediggers were grumbling amongst themselves again, and I mentally pushed those rumors I'd been hearing about a strike a notch up on my list of priorities. The priest had just about finished giving the rites for sending him off to the afterlife, something I'd noticed had been getting briefer with each burial. My soldiers were organizing the preparations for afterwards, and I finally walked over to join them.\n\n\"Remember everybody, no cut corners. Molten lead goes in first, then steel after the lead cools. And for fuck's sake Jeremy, if you fumble the giant boulder again you're the front line of the recovery mission.\"",
"Everyone was devastated to learn that our beloved King Ptolemus had passed. An accident, they claimed. He got out of bed in the middle of the night to relieve himself, fell into a full length mirror, and cut himself to ribbons. No one believed it.\n\nInvestigators were called. Shamans were summoned. Witnessed were interrogated. Nothing came up. The shamans said they felt no outside force of ill will at the crime scene, investigators found no signs of foul play, and the wait staff had all been elsewhere at the time of death, with airtight alibis.\n\nFor a time, we all believed we must have missed something, but there was no motive. There were no countries who could hope to lay us low with regicide. The heir, Julien, had shown reluctance to take the throne ever since he was a child. Ptolemus was a just ruler, and there was no one unhappy enough to have meant him harm. So, as the months passed, we accepted that his death was a tragic accident.\n\nThe new king ruled fairly and well. At times it was clear he didn’t put a lot of stock in the whole royal bloodline concept, and he did eventually create a form of democracy, with an elected parliament.\n\nThat was when things started to go horribly, horribly awry.\n\nThe government functioned well, as it had been eased into its new form. The citizens were still happy, and foreign relations were stable. Nothing had changed except the method of procession. But then King Julien fell ill, his daughters were taken by a minor plague, and his wife, the queen, was found dead of natural causes. The problems didn’t extend beyond the royal family, but the country was devastated nonetheless.\n\nThis is where I come in.\n\nThe new king summoned me to contact his father’s restless spirit, for there was no other forthcoming explanation. I accepted the summons immediately, and arrived at the capitol with my assistants within two days’ time.\n\n“Your Majesty,” I bowed. The king was weak, bedridden, and nodded his head in response.\n\n“The resources of the government are at your disposal,” he said, voice gravelly from disuse.\n\n“I appreciate that, Your Majesty, But I have all the tools I require.” One of my assistants hefted his bag as if to reinforce my point. “All I need is a good space for the ritual.”\n\n“Then proceed,” replied King Julien with a dismissive wave of his hand. I bowed again, and motioned to my assistants.\n\nWe set up in the old war room, out of use for years. The pentagram was drawn swiftly and precisely, the candles set, the incense lit, and the summoning flowed from my tongue with ease.\n\nWhen the spirit of the king did not arrive, none was more surprised than I. I am the greatest wizard on the continent. I can summon even those spirits who have crossed the boundary between this world and the next. I have never been denied.\n\nMy assistants provided rushed explanations, their thoughts leaving their lips before they could be fully formed. I ignored their suggestions that they’d drawn the circle incorrectly, or used the wrong crystals. My assistants were both quite competent.\n\nNo. There was only one reason a spirit would not come when I called.\n\n“Take me to the scene of King Ptolemus’s death,” I ordered a guard. Surprised, he hesitated for a moment, then looked to another guard. They shared a silent exchange.\n\n“Follow us,” the second guard told me. And so I did.\n\nAnother circle was drawn, more candles, and herbs burned. I inhaled the smoke and opened my eyes to see what a normal man could not.\n\nIn my vision, the dead king rose from his bed. He approached the mirror, knelt before it, and mumbled a prayer I could not hear. The mirror rippled, and an unfamiliar face replaced the reflection of the prostrated king.\n\n“Ptolemus,” the reflection smiled. “Have you reached a decision?”\n\n“I have, my lord,” the king replied. He sat up straight. “This disease will not take me.”\n\n“Wonderful!” the reflection clapped. “I trust you have everything you need on your end?”\n\n“Yes.” King Ptolemus stood and went to his desk, where a candle burned, illuminating a quill and parchment. He picked it up and began to chant something, but the reflection interrupted.\n\n“In front of the mirror, my boy,” he hemmed.\n\nThe dead king obeyed. Once again face to face with this foreign reflection, he began his chant in earnest.\n\nI watched in stunned silence as the dead king carved digits into the flesh of his arms, chanting a spell I knew and loathed, and fed the parchment to the flame. The reflection looked on, at first impassively, but eventually unable to contain his glee. When the chant was complete, the reflection clapped, and the mirror exploded.\n\nI blinked away the vision hurriedly, before it swept me away.\n\n“Bad news?” my assistant guessed from the look on my face. I clenched my jaw.\n\n“Worse than I had imagined.”\n—\nKing Julien was, at first, pleased to see me return so quickly. “Is it done, then? Has my father’s spirit been mollified?”\n\n“Your Majesty, I’m afraid your father is not quite dead.”\n\nKing Julien blinked at me uncomprehendingly. “But his body—“\n\n“Yes, his body was destroyed. Unfortunately, his spirit has gone on to possess another body. I do not currently have the materials required to perform the spell that would repel him from his new host, but I will see to it that I acquire them at once.”\n\n“I don’t understand. My father’s spirit possesses another?”\n\n“Correct.” \n\n“Well wouldn’t he have made himself known by now? After all, if he lives, he is still the rightful king.”\n\n“Depending on the will of the host, he may not have managed to take over quite yet.” The king did not respond. “The signs of possession are quite clear, though, however successful the spirit may be at controlling the host. Degenerating health being the most obvious.”\n\n“You think my father has attempted to take my own body?”\n\n“And I believe he will succeed, given time.” I motioned to my assistants, who began digging through their bags. “I will perform a basic enhancement spell to improve your health now, while we wait for the arrival of supplies.”\n\nKing Julien nodded, and then his face twisted with pain. He groaned, doubling over as best he could while bedbound, and I looked to my assistants. They froze for a moment, then began unpacking herbs and pendants, chalk and incense, with reckless abandon.\n\n“Belladonna,” I suggested. “And white sage, bay leaves, and rosemary.” The herbs were tossed to me unceremoniously. “No, you idiots,” I sighed, handing the protective herbs back. “Those are for you.” A look of comprehension arose, and they began making sachets of the herbs to tie around their necks. “Make some for the guards, too. The last thing we need is a necromancer king in a well-armed and healthy body.”\n\nI took the phial of belladonna concentrate and approached the failing king, holding his mouth open. The guards rushed to stop me, but the poison was down his throat before they could reach me.\n\n“If you want your king to live, you will stand back and take the protection my assistants offer you.”\n\nMy warning may have gone unheeded if the body of the new king did not suddenly go limp, and then begin screaming with unholy volume. They stepped back, and my assistants shoved the sachets of protective herbs around their necks before they could resist. The now twice dead king thrashed against the death that grasped him again, and finally lay still.\n\nI closed my eyes and focused on the spirit of Ptolemus. As the only unprotected vessel in the room, he would be forced to come to me.\n\nSensing my plan, he hesitated. I lashed out with my magic, burning his spirit, and he shrieked and flew to me, lodging himself squarely in my soul.\n\n“Alright,” I said, turning to my assistants. “Let’s see how well you remember the exorcism I taught you.”\n—\nWhen I regained consciousness, I was unharmed but for some black ooze spilling from my eyes. The scene around me was still and silent. I searched my soul for any remaining shard of the dead king, and beamed at my assistants.\n\n“Very well done!” They blushed, and I stood. “Now let’s see about saving King Julien.”\n—\n“Can’t you bring back my wife?” he pleaded. “My daughters?”\n\n“I’m sorry, Your Majesty,” I bowed, and I truly was sorry. “A wizard cannot undo a death he did not cause.”\n\nKing Julien slumped. He was alive, but had lost all that truly mattered to him. I patted his hand awkwardly.\n\n“The king is dead,” I said. *Now let’s hope he stays that way,* I thought, but continued the saying: “Long live the king!”\n\nNow I just have to figure out who convinced the king that possessing his son was a good way to avoid death."
] | 6
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[WP] "This wand was the source of your mother's magical girl powers. I think the time has come that I should pass it on to you."
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"Syaoran turned around to his daughter Aiko, pulled out a tiny pink wand with a tip shaped like a bird’s head and handed it to her.\n\n“This wand once belonged to your mother,” said Syaoran. “Long ago, before you were born, she came across a magical book of cards and opened the book. She released the seal and unleashed the spirits that inhabited the cards into the world. One by one, she ventured out and sealed the spirits back into their cards and soon mastered their abilities - making the cards and the book truly her own.”\n\nSyaoran then passed a pink book to Aiko, with a winged sun emblem on the top and her mother’s name emblazoned on the top. ‘SAKURA.’\n\n“This book was once known as the Clow Book and once belonged to Clow Reed. He was a great magician that lived a very long time ago. Yet as you can see by mother’s name on the book, the book truly became hers. Now we just call it the Sakura Book.”\n\nAs Aiko gazed upon the book and magical wand that her daddy was giving her, she welled up with emotions and memories she was trying to suppress and she was tearing up. “But why? Why are you giving this to me?”\n\n“To be honest with you, the spirits within this book became malevolent because they had been without a master for so long,” Syaoran explained. “It had been centuries after Clow Reed died before the book was reopened. We wanted to wait until you were older but the truth is... after mummy passed on last year, I wanted to entrust it to you sooner.”\n\nOn hearing once more that mother was gone, Aiko began to sob into her father’s arms. Even though it had been a full year since Sakura succumbed to cancer, just thinking about her mother devastated her.\n\n“I know,” Syaoran whispered, as he tried to comfort his crying daughter. “It breaks my heart too.”"
] | 1
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[WP] You're on a ride at an amusement park that hasn't stopped. You've been on it for a very long time.
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"I can't tell how long this ferris wheel has been going. I can't tell if its been hours, days, months, years, or decades. Perhaps where I am, the concept of time doesn't exist. My watch and my phone, both have been frozen at 3:50 for so very long now.. And yet, time moves forward. The ferris wheel goes round-and-round.. and round-and-round.. and round-and-round. All I can do to cling to my sanity is ponder my past. Ponder the times before I got on this wretched ferris wheel. Ponder the times before I felt that horrid sensation in my chest. You know, it's long since been my belief that I am no longer in the land of the living. In fact, I am certain that is so. And perhaps this is the punishment for my sins, my sins of failure. To be left thinking of my past, my regrets, my mistakes, and all that I could have done had I not been incompetent, and useless, and hopeless, and inadequate in every way possible. For all of eternity I am left to entertain these thoughts. Yes, this is my retribution."
] | 1
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[WP] You have voluntarily had a brain chip installed which can offer you advice in any given situation.
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"From the day I saw the billboard about this surgery I was so excited, who wouldn’t want that?! A chip in your head that gives you advice, absolutely genius!\n\nMe and my girlfriend disagree on it quite a lot though, she is always hounding me about the possible side effects, how it’s not fully tested, anything could go wrong, she doesn’t want to lose me, so over dramatic. \n\nWell today is the day, the day I go under the knife, I will have to admit I’m a little nervous, anxious even, i got out of bed early, that never happens but I guess it is just the excitement, I go to leave the room and glance back at my girlfriend and she’s dazed but catches my eye, I say see you later and she mumbles ‘see you in a bit’. I probably should’ve told her the op was today but you know I didn’t want the whole talk down speech\n\nI get to the clinic on time and the nurse is already waiting for me, ‘hi, you must be Alex’ she said with a warm smile ‘I am indeed, here for the:-‘ ‘yes, the surgery, please follow me’ she said abruptly\n\nShe leads me to a changing room where I get into the surgery gown and walk out into the theatre, just me, the nurse and the doctor. ‘Hey man, hows it going’ I said confidently to hide my nerves, he didn’t respond but just pointed at the operating table\n\nI climbed on and the nurse strapped me down, the put a small needle in my arm ‘this is just a light sedative, we need you to have some brain function through the procedure but you will feel asleep for it okay’ the nurse basically whispered this to me\n\nEverything fades to black, you’d have though I would dream in a sleep like this but no, nothing...\n\nI can feel myself come to, I’m in a hospital bed, I know that much, I open my eyes disoriented and slightly alarmed. I look around the room to gage where I am, there’s a door but no handle on it, must just be a swing door or something\n\nIt starts to come back to me what had just happened and I remember I had the op, a surge of excitement went through me and I tried to sit up, my arms were bound to the bed... so were my legs? I’m confused and desperate for answers\n\nThe next thing I hear comes from within my own head... ‘yeah, probably shouldn’t have done that mate.’ I can feel my arms and legs start to go numb, have they drugged me? Is this just a little side effect, panic sets in as the numbness spreads up to my neck and into my head, I can’t move... everything... fades to black....\n\n\n\n‘Your body’s mine now...’",
"Chip is an a$$hole. \n\nI know that the program was a voluntary, but Chip's personality was unexpected. For example, I was making a nice omelet for breakfast. The finished product was a pimiento, Saracha, and pickle omelet with teriyaki sauce drizzel. I swear Chip laughed after my first bite. \n\nThe techs and science guys tell me that it is impossible for Chip to have any personality. I know better, Chip is a sadist. \n\nI've been in the emergency room 12 times in the last month, aprently they stared a frequent customer card program for me. 8 more times and I've got a free visit, Yippie....\n\nIt started off slow. I'd be riding a bike and chip would suggest jerking the handle bars. That one sent me over an embankment and sprained my wrist. Then there was the time while making dinner and Chip suggested a slight change in how I held the knife, I was lucky to keep my finger.\n\nYou might ask why I still listen to Chip, well I try. It's just so insidious because he is literally in my head. It's hard to tell where I end and Chip begins. \n\nStep, step, st-use the side of your foot, twists ankle and falls to the ground, ghostly laughter echos in my head.\n\nI even think he's been trying to move my body while I'm asleep. There are bruises that weren't there when I wake up.\n\nThey say I can't have the chip removed due to the contract I signed, but this taser says I'll get some relief. It has to be a good idea, Chip hasn't suggested anything about it."
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[WP] You're a Mary Sue, you know it, and you absolutely hate it.
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"Her name was Maria Susana Guerra, but she hated how *Mexican* it sounded. \nInstead, she had made her butlers, her school mates and everyone around her call her Mary G. \nPaloma was having some second thoughts on what to call her. 'Twat' came to mind. \n \nThe pair of eight year old girls - though Mary was probably a year older - glared at each other incessantly, not even daring to bat an eye and lose any inch of concentration. \nIt was a battle of egoes, and it was already starting to irritate her other allies. \n \n\"Paloma,\" called out Karen, a petite Asian girl with twin buns. \"If you are going to hit her, just do it!\" \n\"But that's what she wants!\" Cried the other. She was about to turn her head to discuss but reminded herself not to do so, stiffening her pose. \"I can't battle against a civilian! Kristal told us not to.\" \n \nMary, hearing the banter from the other group, scoffed. \nShe arranged her perfectly luscious blonde hair and whipped it behind her shoulders. \nPosing with her hands on her hips, the richest girl in Southern California began to laugh. \n \n\"A civilian?\" She took her hand close to her mouth, covering it ever slightly like a condescending duchess would. \"Me? If anything, *you* are the one with the plebs. For you see: you are taking to the true Heiress of the Semankatlanian Empire.\" \n \nStares. \nEach of Paloma's group stared at her with various degrees of disbelief: Karen saw her with a quiet disdain; Midori, a girl who had moved from Japan and was 4 years older than Paloma, tilted her head in puzzlement. Marimar, the tallest of the group with a beach like tan, remained emotionless with a hint of a frown. Meanwhile, Paloma was completely aghast staring at Mary with eyes that were ready to pop and her finger pointing at said girl. \n \n\"*YOU*?!\" Demanded Paloma, waving her arms in a somewhat comical way. \"Do you have *any* idea of how *wrong* you are? Who told you that? I wasn't told that! And I am the leader of the Girlsfromspace!\" \n\"You were just the first in the group . . .\" Added Karen quietly. \"That doesn't make you the leader.\" \n\"Yes it does!\" Rebated the other girl, turning at her. \n \nMary began to laugh again like an aristocrat, hand on mouth as before and head leaning back slightly. \nShe smirked at the clueless girls once she finished. \n \n\"Allow me to explain to you simpleminded girls the hidden truth about your lost kingdom. A long time ago, the peaceful Empire had an unimaginable crisis. While it is true that usually the Empress has only one child if a heir is acquired, the truth was that said child was actually out of the wedlock. She was lovely and sweet but because of this event she had to be hidden away from everyone and thus nobody knew about her existence until now that I'm telling you. Her name was Iris Delight Sunray Blossom, at least that was how her ancient name meant, lost in time only to be revealed to *me*.\" \n \nPaloma was visibly altered by the story, glaring daggers at Mary. Mary on the other hand didn't bother and continued. In her lips, a small amusing smile emerged. \n \n\"I was perhaps . . . one or two years old when I had a dream. I was in a castle that was situated not far away from this city. The castle was, of course, hidden from all because such a child could never be known to anybody. As powerful as the Empress was, her sin was too big and she had to sadly bury everything. I saw myself in the past living my lovely childhood, unaware of my Destiny. Unaware that I was supposed to be the new Empress and the troubles that had happened. When I realized, it was already too late to save my little sister and I cried lots and lots. The tears from my past self were so full of sorrow and light that they shone like diamonds and formed the star which now gives me my abilities. Observe!\" \n \nMary moved her hands to her side and clapped twice. A pair of maids appeared seemingly out of nowhere and delivered her a small leather bag with a big metal plaque which was carved with some high end brand. Picking it up carefully, she opened it and pulled a sparkling 7 pointed crystal star which reflected all of the colors of the rainbow. \nBy this point, the other girls barring Paloma, were just waiting to see where Mary was headed. Ridiculous story aside, she may have some validity regarding having some sort of degree of power. Paloma wasn't having any of it. \n \n\"My wonderful Star! Isn't it pretty?\" Mary took the star with her thumbs and rose it up to the sky in way where the sun could pass through it. The simmering sparkles of all 7 colors fell on her face. \"When I understood those dreams, it came to me! It all made sense after that: being in such a prestigious position where my daddy can sell all of those things to help the world's strongest country, having all kinds of stuff, a big house, servants... my past life was coming back to me! And now, I am here to reclaim my position to the throne! That is why I have called you here, *Lucky*\" She lowered the crystal star, taking it with one hand while using the other to point at Paloma who flinched at being mentioned by her codename without being in the correct outfit. \"While it is true that you *may* have been a princess in the past, *I* am the true heir to the throne and thus the true commander of the Girls from Space.\" \n\"Oh yeah?!\" Paloma growled. Opening her right palm, she produced a small ball of energy which dissipated quickly to reveal her own star: a 4 pointed blue star. Unlike Mary's, hers had some hints of prior use. \"Then show me what you got!\" \n\"Very well, since you are the challenger I will give you the privilege of making the first move.\" \n \"Y-You were the one who forced me to come over here!\" Paloma clenched her left fist. \"On a Saturday morning, on a 400 car per lane torture!\" \n\"Didn't we cross over using Marimar's water abilities at Playas?\" Karen mentioned with a deadpan. \n\"Neither Midori or Marimar have visas! We had to do it like that because of that! Whatever, I'm going ahead and show ya! *Princess Lucky Star. . .!*\" \n \n--- \n \nContext: the Gs Saga actually has a *canon* Mary Sue. Kind of literal in the sense that she is called like that and kind of acts like it. \nAlthough she gets better. . . eventually. You may actually see her [in this prompt](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/8eb2jz/wp_well_stop_you_with_the_powers_of_friendship/dxu3pwk/). \n \nThough now that I realize, this wasn't probably what you were expecting but.. eh, I already replied.\nCheck out other stuff I have at /r/KibouPortal \nThanks for reading.\n",
"Being perfect really sucks. And not in an “I don’t know I’m beautiful aren’t I kawaii fall in love with me James T Kirk” sort of way. More in a “stop fawning over me I just want to be an angsty teen who listens to Fall Out Boy and only has a few friends” sort of way.\n\nLet’s get this out of the way. My name is Raven. Except not really. Because actually my name is the ultra classy “Lillyandia Raven Lilly Fall Abigail Westormore Kale Marbles”. My hair goes down to my feet, I have a heart shaped birthmark on my cheek that everyone loves, my face is so pale it gets compared to a “gorgeous ghost’s”. And last but certainly not least, I’m currently in the middle of a love triangle with the hot, sexy, playboy-who-needs-a football-scholarship-and serious-tutoring senior and the shy but cute boy-next-door who for some reason just happens to have a six pack.\n\nAre you getting the picture yet? Do I have to spell this out for you? Because I will.\n\nM-A-R-Y S-U-E.\n\nAnd it is awful.\n\nBecause when you take a) introvert who really just wants to be left alone so she can get through her “I hate people” phase and b) the most popular girl in school that every girl hates because they’re jealous and that everyone constantly wants to get together…\n\nYou end up with c) fucking hell. \n\nDon’t worry, this isn’t even the best part of my life. The best part would be that I am an OC fanfic character. And guess which utterly lame series I am being used as wish fulfillment for?\n\nNaruto.\n\nI live in a Naruto highschool AU. AND I DO NOT CARE THAT YOUR BROTHER STOLE YOUR GIRLFRIEND SASUKE JUST SHUT THE HELL UP AND STOP SMOLDERING AT ME. I HAVE HOMEWORK TO DO AND I DO NOT HAVE TIME FOR YOUR BULLSHIT.\n\nMy writer, being the totally amazing, perfect, narcissistic prick of a twelve year old that she is, decided that along with all the other requisite powers a Mary Sue must have (a squad of interchangeable best friends, fifty different shades of eyeliner, a bunch of guys proclaiming they’re gay and making out and then deciding ‘nope, we’re straight’ and throwing themselves at me), I would also get something extra. Namely, the ability to see through that pesky fourth wall.\n\nWhat does that mean? Occasionally I start spitefully talking about haters who just want to be negative. Sometimes I make comments about how I wish there were more likes on the fanfic. But mostly, it means that I get to see and know about every single damn thing that I will never have.\n\nGuys who actually like me for me instead of falling for my looks and how 'sweet' I am.\n\nTeachers who honestly criticize and try to guide me, instead of either deciding that I’m perfect and above reproach, or who are evil and spiteful and who I must rise above.\n\nParents who are alive, instead of being ‘inspirefully’ dead.\n\nNot being constantly hurt, or tortured, or raped and then be written as if it didn’t happen at all.\n\nBeing able to read one sentence of narration that DOES NOT INCLUDE THE WORD SEXILY. THAT IS NOT A WORD. LEARN HOW TO USE A FREAKING DICTIONARY.\n\nBut I don’t get that.\n\nDo you know what I really wonder about, though? \n\nWhat’s going to happen when this fic ends? Maybe I’ll finally be done and I can graduate and not have to listen to ‘Prof Guy’ talk about Eternal Youth everyday, or maybe it’ll be all over and I can go to fanfic heaven. It’s actually a pretty interesting concept, what happens to the character in a work of fiction after the work ends? There’s really just infinite possibilities, so it’s kind of just like Shrodinger’s cat. Everything is true until the author says that it isn’t. Theoretically.\n\nBut I’m not going to get that either. \n\nThis fic hasn’t been updated in over ten years.\n\nNot only is it fucking hell. It’s fucking endless fucking hell.\n\nCrazy-with-jealousy INO Sakura, please just kill me already.",
"My name is Sunberry Eldigan Cosmopolita Moonstrider Starshine. Please, please for the love of god, just call me Sun. I know that I look normal - normal *ish*, okay, fine, I *think* I look normal - but the truth is, I'm an alien. An alien from the future, with psychic powers. I feel like I'm stressing the wrong things, but I just want to hammer home how... how *stupid* my life sounds to a third party. \n\nHave you ever felt like... Like your life is some kinda joke? I feel like the things that happen to me are so over the top and absurd that there's no way my life can't be some kind of farce. Like... Like the time travel thing. I mentioned the time travel thing. You know why I came from the future? Because I need to warn my mom - my mom, by the way, is an intergalactic jpop idol singer slumming it on earth. No, I don't know why the galaxy has jpop and idol singers when Earth has precisely zero influence on anything outside the Sol system. Goddammit I'm getting off track.\n\nI came from the future to warm my mom that her high school principal is gonna summon Satan - sorry, not Satan - *daemons* and take over the earth. See, I made it out okay because my mom and dad had me (Side note? Seeing my mom teen pregnant with me? *Super weird*.) and put me on mom's spaceship and sent me to space. So already I'm working off, like, Future Trunks, Lucina, Superman Son Goku *bullshit* but no, that's totally fine and makes sense, right? Yeah no don't fuckin' question it, it makes total sense.\n\nBut even just... ignoring all of that. I just feel like even my day to day life feels wrong. I'm not down on my looks, right? I'm pretty happy with my appearance. But like, objectively I'm just *okay*. Everyone has a type and I'm obviously not it. ...except I am. Literally when I'm walking down the street literally everyone wants a piece of this and *I don't get it.* I mean I'm *flattered* but I just ***don't fucking get it.*** I can spend five minutes talking to a boy my age and all of a sudden we're destined to be together. \n\n\"Like, that's great and all, buddy. But could we maybe go on a couple dates first? It'll be fun, we could go to a sports bar, pig out on nachos, maybe hit an arcade so I can beat you at Blazblue, maybe watch a movie that for some reason shouldn't be showing at the local theatre but is anyways just because we're there? It'll be a great time assuming you don't fucking die in my arms because I have enemies that inexplicably want me to suffer just for the sake of it. Do you mind if I bring some friends? Nobody super important, just the ten other guys I've met this week that I'm destined to be with.\"\n\nSo dating's off the table. Home and family life is fucking weird, and my life story to date sounds like it was written by a sixteen year old huffing paint thinner after watching just a bit too much anime. (I mean I'm not condemning anime but I mean *too much* anime. Some of it good, most of it the kind with flubber titties.) Hey, at least there's hobbies, right. Pastimes to distract me from the train wreck?\n\nHahahahaeverythingItouchturnsintomybitch.\n\nI'm not tooting my own horn here. It doesn't matter what I do, I'm just the best at it. Sports? The best. Videogames? The best. Music? The best. One time I was singing off key in the shower and when I came out my mom was gushing about how I had even more talent than she did and that I absolutely *must* go pro. I was singing \"I've got a lovely bunch of coconuts\" (cause I do. Yeah I said it.) And I was doing the percussion on my cheeks (the ones on my face). My point is I feel like some kind of robot that just wins at everything ever and I just? Hate it? So much?\n\nI don't know. Maybe, just maybe, this whole stupid planet is under some kinda spell. Maybe I'm the one under a spell, and once it's lifted I'll just be another face in the crowd.\n\nA pretty, alien face in the crowd that's come from the future to protect her anime as fuck parents from Kingdom Hearts But All The Names Are Changed So We Don't Get Sued (TM).\n\nA girl can dream, I guess.",
"I don’t remember how old I was when I realized it, but for a long time, I’ve known that I was special. I’m not sure what tipped me off, either – if it was the unending affections from all the most chiseled boys on my block, or the telekinetic powers I share with my cat, or even that dagger I picked up while on vacation in Rome (the one that never stops glowing purple). But I’m special. \n\nIt might sound cool and exciting, but really, it sucks. I never have time for sleepovers or movie nights because I’m always running off to fix some problem in this town, a problem only I can fix. I never get to go on regular dates because when I do give those pubescent Adonises a chance, I get sucked into some deep sci-fi government conspiracy (that takes months to resolve, and usually ruins my summer vacation). I’m always behind on school work because my damn cat never stops alerting me that some random child is in danger (always, it seems, on the outskirts of fucking town – why do people go there to “be alone” when people are apparently always fucking there??). Fortunately, my teachers let me off the hook here and there, because in their words, they “understand how much pressure is on me” and “don’t repeat this to other students, but you’ve always been one of my favorites.” \n\nJust last weekend, all I wanted to do was stay home, paint my toenails and read a magazine – instead, I got maybe four hours of sleep and spent 30 straight hours banishing a coven of witches from the grove behind the football field. \n\nBut I’ve been thinking, and I think I know a way out of this now. I’m a Mary Sue. I’m the main character, the victor, the force for good, right?\n\nWhat if I just decided to stop?\n\nBecause the thing is, I’ve been researching how to make pipe bombs, and I’m getting pretty good. \n"
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[WP] Everyone in the world has a superpower that fits them perfectly. Except for you, you have two. The Government found that out today.
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"It was inevitable someone would figure me out I hadn't aged a day since my early 20's. The official mutation listed on my ID stated I was a fixer, able to understand and repair all types of machinery or even shattered objects. It was a very practical ability and always brought me great joy to be able to fix my friends cars or their kid's toys. I was always had enough money from my abilities and could claim I could afford a rejuvenator. But rejuvinators had their limits and after 40 years people had noticed. Only a regenerator could look the way I did.\n I got a knock on my door one morning; checking the peep hole I saw the enforcers, two of them in their black uniforms. I tried to run for the back, but my legs locked refusing to respond and my hand moved towards the handle as if it had a will of its own. Attempting to resist was pointless; puppet masters were one of the states favorite tools. The door opened and I could tell by the malicious smile on the mans face that the one on my left was the one controlling me. \n \"I understand the situation. You can let me free I wont be going anywhere\"\n\"I don't know about that, we've been told you're a dangerous man.\"\n\"Feel free to check my ID I'm just a fixer\"\n\"Please don't lie to us,\" the man on the right had spoken up now, and I could feel him begin to pry his way into my mind. He shuffled through my thoughts finding what he was looking for as easy as searching a dictionary. His face did not hide his shock and then quickly contorted into envious scowl. Most people were jealous of regens for obvious reasons and on top of that, I had two mutations, something not even thought to be possible.\nThe Telepath whispered something into the other man's ear and then I was walking towards their car. Upon sitting in the back I blacked out.",
"I'm honestly surprised that it took this long for me to get found out. A guy, born in the middle of June, with the super-power of Astrology. Having the super power of astrology sounds lame and all, except the power does give me some ability to guide others and help them avoid bad decisions. Neptune in opposition while the moon is at apogee? Better not rob that bank just yet. Venus and the sun are at a wonderful conjunction. Now would be the perfect time to propose to your girlfriend! The revenue from that isn't great, but it keeps me fed and with a roof over my head. \n\nThe sports car and the custom Harley, on the other hand? Like I said, born in the middle of June and the super power of Astrology. Every Castor has a Pollux, or so they say. Well, they actually don't, but they can go screw themselves. Being a Gemini, I am my own twin. As even identical twins have some differences, my second set of powers is close enough to the Astrology powers that I had been able to hide them. Until now. \n\nIt's one thing to make predictions. It's quite another to enforce them. An unremarkable person at the craps table puts $1,000 on snake eyes in time for them to show up on the table. He takes his winnings and moves on. Blackjack. Sure, he lets the dealer win some hands, but makes sure that his chip stack slowly grows. \n\nI took the casinos for about $4 million over 5 years. Slowly, discreetly, I made the hands favor me. I made the dice roll my way. Sometimes this was not easy, as there are others with the super power of making things happen, as well. But hey, I'm an Astrologer, too, so I know when to act and not act.\n\nBy now you are wondering how I got caught. Well, the people who run the casinos just so happen to have the super power of ruining people's luck. Because I can see bad luck coming from miles away, I've been able to beat them. Which, given enough time, put me on their radar. Sure, I made sure to hide my identity as The Astrologer and wear random hats and random hoodies, but time wins out. Well, time and wealthy casino bosses...\n\nAnyways, I'm now in a testing facility. My winnings are secure, as I always forsaw this day. Now my biggest problem is planning my escape. It doesn't look good now, but Jupiter will soon be in Scorpio. We all know what happens when Jupiter enters Scorpio..."
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The mistake occurred 19 years ago...
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[WP] You are 19 years old visiting your parents during winter break. One afternoon while you are home alone (parents had work) you hear frantic knocking at the door and open it to see an embarrassed elf man. There’s been a huge mistake and you need to go with him into the faerie realm to sort it out
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"\"Hi, are you Steve Westingale?\"\n\n\"Yes. Are you ...... an elf?\"\n\nThe elf checks his reflection, doinks his own ears. \"Why yes I believe I am an elf\"\n\n\"Cool. I've never seen an elf before other than in movies\"\n\n\"Yeah? I've never seen a Steve Westingale before other than in gay porn.\"\n\n\"Nice one. Are all elves sarcastic jerks.\"\n\n\"Yes. All elves are sarcastic jerks.\"\n\nSteve Westingale couldn't whether or not the elf was being sarcastic.\n\n\"So what can ..\"\n\nelf interrupts. \"I'm just here to clear up so old business. 319 years ago one of your ancestors made a deal with us to keep his family from starving. If his family line didn't repay the debt within 300 years we got to claim the newest member of the blood line as a slave. That person was you.\"\n\n\"Wait, what? I'm going to be an elf slave?\"\n\n\"No of course you aren't going to be an elf slave. Our lawyers contacted your parents about the situation and they paid the debt.\"\n\n\"Oh, good. I was a little worried. So what did my parents pay for me?\"\n\n\"9 sheep\"\n\n\"9 sheep?\"\n\n\"9 sheep\"\n\n\"Ok, so if the debts was paid then why are you here?\"\n\n\"We were doing a self audit recently and discovered a clerical error. Seems your ancestor only borrowed 8 sheep, so we owe you a sheep.\"\n\n\"You owe us ... a sheep.\"\n\n\"That's what I said. You know that elves are forbidden from lying about sheep.\"\n\n\"No I didn't know that\"\n\n\"That because it's not true. Sarcastic jerk, remember? Anyway here's your sheep\"\n\nThe elf pulled a full grown sheep from his pocket. \"Could I get you to sign here?\"\n\nSteve Westingale signed the elf's sheep manifest."
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[WP] Every morning for years you walk a mile to get to work. You know every door, person, and uneven sidewalk crack on your route. Today was different--a strange door in an ally way appeared. Curious, you decide to knock. "You finally saw it! I need your help," the devil says and pulls you inside.
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"I found myself in an elevator lined in red satin. The devil kept his hands on my shoulders until the door closed. He didn't say anything; he just shot me a look as he reached over and pushed the only button in the elevator. It screamed as his finger made contact. I was frozen in fear. \n\n\"Relax, you're probably not staying.\" he laughed.\n\nI eased up and turned around in the elevator to face the door. The display on the panel showed only a down arrow. No doubt, he was taking me to Hell.\n\n\"You know, I hate awkward elevator rides. Really is the real Hell in this life.\" the devil turned to me, smiling. He wanted me to laugh. \"Right, not a fan. Well it's not often I get to press the skip button.\" he reached up and ran two fingers across the panel. The display showed >> and the elevator immediately stopped. The doors slid open and Satan walked out.\n\n\"Wipe your feet,\" he called back to me.\n\nI popped my head out and looked around. There was a long red carpet that lead up to a couch sitting in front of the largest television I ever saw. I smelled sulfur and singed hair. Sure enough, underneath the long carpet was everything I was expecting in Hell. Billions of souls were wrapping in an out of flames. Their moans were terrifying and deafening.\n\n\"Hurry up now. I didn't go all that way just to show you my stuff,\" Lucifer said as he beckoned me toward his couch.\n\nHe was sprawled out on the sofa, watching TV.\n\n\"I've had my eye on you for a while, and I really gotta say you're good.\" he pointed to the console the TV sat on.\n\n\"Can you walk over to the TV and see if I left the remote in that drawer?\"\n\nI turned and looked. The TV had to be 12 feet away. He had to be joking.\n\n\"I'm going to level with you. This couch is comfortable as sin and no one can get past it when they see it. You're the best damn walker I've seen in generations, and I'd wager you won't sit until you're done walking.\"\n\nI looked at the couch. It was the only thing in Hell that didn't look worth my time. It was torn, dusty, and smelled like stale cheese puffs. 12 feet. That was all the commotion was about. I shook my head and walked over to the TV. The console it sat on was made of a fine mahogany. I slid open the drawer and looked inside. All I saw was an apple, a scrunched up dollar bill, and a remote. I pulled the remote out and closed the drawer.\n\n\"Oh thank *me*. Bring it here.\" the devil sighed, delighted that I found the remote.\n\nI walked back the 12 feet to the couch, now having outpaced the devil 24 feet. He grabbed the remote and changed the channel off of Friends. The souls let out a deafening moan of relief; apparently they had been tired of watching that.\n\n\"There hasn't been a new episode of Friends in YEARS, yet in all that time I couldn't muster up the strength to get up and get the remote. You really did a hell of job there.\" he patted the cushion next to him. \"What do you want to watch?\"\n\n*No one can get past that couch when they see it.* That's what he said. He also said I was the best walker he's seen in generations. This was a trap, and I wasn't done walking yet. \n\nI opened my mouth for the first time in his presence. \"Thanks, but I think I'll let myself out.\"\n\nHe looked up at me, one eyebrow cocked, as if intrigued by my answer. \"Suit yourself. I'll be watching you.\"\n\nThe devil snapped his fingers and the elevator doors opened. I made my way to the exit.\n\nMy boss wasn't going to believe anything I was going to tell him. I was going to just say I was late and leave it at that. ",
"As the devil pulls closer with a look of desperation he pointed me in the direction of a small futon and gestures for me to sit. I very much obliged, yes out of genuine curiosity but to a larger extent not to upset the devil. \n\n“Can I get you anything? Sprite? Coke? Pepsi?” The Devil asks as his desperation turns to mild relaxation. \n\nAfter a bit of a pause the devil looks at me with a puzzled look until a shade of light red embarrassment spreads across his already crimson face. “Oh I’m so sorry, my name is Lucifer J. Rasta and I’m the Devil.”\n\nA slight grin peaks over my lips exposing my rapidly growing smile breaking my more concerned straight face. “Oh I imagined as much, I’ll take a sprite, but I must ask why am I here? What do you need me for?” \n\nWith a breath of excitement he summons a sprite from thin air and places it on a silver plate, the lord of darkness then preceded to place the plate in my hands. As I picked up the glass I saw that underneath was a blank picture. I looked back towards the Devil slightly puzzled. \n\nThe Devil responded with “Turn it over, See I need help running a........”\n\nWith a spite take of my sprite I blurted out “A THAI RESTAURANT?” \n\nThe paper, turned over to reveal a the storefront of a generic Thai restaurant in LA or some such city.\n\n“Yes, come on don’t laugh” the Devil begs. \n\nI try to piece myself together letting out slight grins inconsistently long enough to ask “why”. \n\n“You work at a Thai restaurant right? You could help me set it up in downtown LA, it will look great” the Devil proclaims\n\n“Okay but I mostly just wash dishes, I don’t know the first thing about opening a restaurant, why do you need a Thai restaurant so much anyway?”\n\nI can see a dark cloud forming around the Devil, he removes his reading glasses while simultaneously falling back into a chair of despair. “You see, Hell’s not as profitable as I once imagined, it’s become bland and generic, everyone hates it and it’s to fucking hot 90% of the time, all the AC gets vented up to Heaven because I can’t really afford it and God keeps jacking up the rent, as a result I no longer rule there, I signed control over to a board of directors while I went to find myself. And after several years I wondered across Thailand. And do you know what I found in Thailand Nick?”\n\n“Um Pineapple Curry”? I’m Nick by the way.\n\n“Pineapple Curry” the Devil replies as he nods. “But when I went back to hell to pitch my new idea of opening up a Thai restaurant the new government laughed at me. They followed with some charts and corporate speak until I stormed out”.\n\n“That’s awful, but I’m not entirely sure why you nee...........” \n\nthe Devil interrupts “we need you to wash dishes”. \n\n“Wait what” \n\n“We need a dish washer and no one I know from from Hell wants to move to LA they say it’s somehow worse, anyway your the best available, you will be payed a additional $5 and I’ll even pay for you gas, when you have to make a delivery, c’mon I need this” the Devil falls on the ground looking up with puppy dog eyes. \n\n“I’m in” as I high five the Lord of Darkness starting our Thai restaurant together. \n\n\n\n\n"
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[WP] As the soldiers closed in on the little girl holding her teddybear, they only knew one emotion. Fear.
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"He knew that the girl standing before him was the most dangerous target they had ever faced. But they had a mission they had to fulfill: Bring the murderer back alive, at all costs. It was their only chance.\n\nThe girl had straight, long and blond hair. She wore a blue and white dress, holding a small teddy bear. She had a blank stare as she looked over the soldiers carefully approaching her. She looked innocent enough, if it weren't for the blue flames circling her feet. Ethereal chains materialised and disappeared in the space around her. She glowed with power. They may have outnumbered her, yet his heart was clenched with fear, as though he somehow knew they were all no match for the demonic girl in front of him.\n\nAs though in a trance, the girl stepped forward. She extended her hand to the soldiers. \n\n'Die for me.'\n\nEverything descended into chaos with that phrase. Explosions deafened the screams of the other soldiers. He turned around to run, but a giant teddy bear materialised in front of his eyes. The last thing he saw was the bomb strapped to the teddy bear before he lost consciousness.\n\nWhen he came to, he was lying on the carpeted floor, his body feeling like he had been hit by a truck. He could barely move at all. They had been defeated so easily. He opened his eyes to see a man with black hair wearing a black coat kneeling over his comrade, as though checking his body. The murderer.\n\n\"All alive,\" he breathed. \"Thank you, Alice.\" \n\nThe girl in blue smiled and vanished. The man in black stood up and ran for the casino exit. \n\nHe knew what he had to do. Despite the pain and exhaustion he reached for his walkie-talkie.\n\n\"Failed... he's too powerful... execute plan B... use... gas...\""
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[WP] You had always been a normal person. One day, you suddenly dreamed of your whole life from the moment you wake up till the day you die and your normal life turned to a mess because of that one person. A long time has passed and you went on with your life. And then... you met that person.
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"She had a firm handshake and a gaze that could reach into your soul and grab your very being into her grasp, finding out all your secrets. Her eyes bright with happiness and a very cheerful aura. Who was this girl and why did she make me feel so uneasy?\n\nShe told me her name, but I forgot it the next second. I was too entangled in my own thoughts to remember it. I smiled and presented myself too, then I watched her go out the door along with her other roommates.\n\nDays went by without me interacting with her, until one day when she came over to me and my roommate to talk to us. She had a colourful personality and a smile that could heal broken hearts. How could this girl make my life take a bad turn? Then it hit me.\n\nI was falling in love. I was falling in love with a person that was so broken she didn't want to be saved. She thought she wasn't worth it. So it all went into a downward spiral really fast until she decided to give up on me. Her reason? It still resonates into my soul:\n\n\"I love you and I don't want to hurt you anymore.\" But after the break up, I was never the same. I couldn't heal. That's how she ruined me. By loving me."
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[WP] She suddenly felt lopsided. She looked behind her and swore. Her arm had fallen off. Again.
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"Three hundred -- twenty-two thousand -- eight hundred -- fourty-six dollars -- and fifty three cents.\n\nPrecisely.\n\nAnd for the second fucking time in a week, the thing was skittering along on the pavement behind her. At least she wasn't on the highway this time.\n\nShe swerved her sleek lined neon Hundatsu Corp 555 around in the narrow alley and accelerated back towards the fallen limb. Twisting the thumb lock to set the handlebars she used her hips to guide the bike in and snatch the limb off the ground as she passed.\n\nScratched to hell. A quarter inch impression where the shell had hit her forearm. No smoking or leaking at least. Vinny was going to be pissed, but she wasn't out of the fight. She slid the familiar form back over the stump of her right arm. Ten thousand nerves that had been so recently offlined suddenly sang out in unison as the nerve attachment feedback loop self tested. Kind of nice, if a bit distracting. Probably should slow down next FUCK\n\nThe dumpster seemed to appear from nowhere as the feedback loop settled. Slamming the inertial amplifiers, she carved a deep groove into the alley wall as she began to cut up the side of the building.\n\nShe needed height.\n\nThe terrified salaryman she was chasing had a head start, but he also had no idea what he was doing. She would've gunned it as soon as she was out of sight. Hard. The more distance the better.\n\nBut these guys. Every single one was too clever by half. Every damned time one slipped away, which wasn't too often, they would ditch the bike and hide, hoping she'd chase shadows off into the distance.\n\nFirst couple times she did too. But the decades wear on. She smacked the panel, bringing up the heads up display in her helmet.\n\nYup. Guy didn't even leave the block. She made a mental note to thank Vinny while he was catching his breath between obscenities for these new trackshots.\n\nBreaching over onto the apartment's roof she decided he would probably have ducked into the west offshoot of the alley after stashing the bike on the right. She peeled a hard right and ramped off the side. Catching the next building over and sliding down the side as gracefully as you can while leaving a six inch tear in the masonry, she dove hard before pulling up dozen feet up from street and hopping lightly off the exterior.\n\nA single dumpster sat in the alleyway. Surely not.\n\nApproaching the dumpster she grabbed the edge and flipped up the heavy top in a single motion.\n\n\"P-- Please. He made me do it. Please don't. He made me\"\n\nThe salaryman's arm made a sickening series of snaps as she pulled the guy over the dumpsters edge and tossed him in front of her. It was so annoying when they begged.\n\n\"Sure. Someone made you gamble off a half million yen you didn't have.\"\n\n\"No! I've never gambled in my life. I'm Second Revelation. The Reformed Mormon church forbids it. Look, look.\" Fumbling with his good arm, he pulled up some necklace with a silver symbol on the end out of his shirt.\n\n\"Great. A believer. I was just thinking I needed a guilt trip before I execute you.\"\n\n\"No, please! He made me. You must believe me\"\n\n\"I'll humor you. Who made you what?\"\n\n\"He said I had to lead you here. Please. The man was huge. Blacks eyes with little yellow pupils\"\n\nOh shit.\n\n\"NOW YOU DONE GONE AND RUINED THE SURPRISE, YA LITTLE FUCKIN WORM\"\n\nThe wall behind the dumpster exploded, shooting it across the alley and burying her in the opposing wall. Damn. The salaryman was never going to wash out of her jacket.\n\nEight feet at least. He'd gotten another size mod. Still bald and wearing the same ugly face he'd always had, though. Some synth skin grafts here and there, but mostly just dead metal. She'd never understand these fucking Maxers.\n\n\"Oi, cunt. You still pumping in there?\"\n\nReaching over the wreck of the dumpster and grabbing her head, he pulled her bodily from the wall and lifted her up to face level.\n\n\"Oi. I'm fucking talking to you\"\n\nKicking her legs up and firing her long jumps at the same time, she slammed her feet into his shoulder, feeling the fibrocarbon shell crack.\n\n\"Oi. I'm talking nice to ya. How about a little respect?\"\n\nShit.\n\nSmashing her face into the wall, he began dragging her down the alley way, leaving behind them a trail of broken bricks and mortar.\n\n\"See, I'm thinking, maybe you shouldn't've have fucking gone to fucking Sydney. I'm thinking, when you fragged Olly, you oughta known you was dead then, eh?\"\n\nPulling her from the wall, he grabbed her head with both hands\n\n\"I'm thinking, you've fucked up\"\n\nA modern titanium reinforced carbon threaded custom tooled Eguzekutibu-class skull can withstand stresses of up to twelve thousand pounds per square inch. He had to be pushing twice that with ease.\n\nA disgusting pop echoed down the alleyway.\n\n\"Yeah. Looks like I was \", her second kick landed perfectly in the center of his ugly, flesh covered face.\n\n\"OI FUCK\"\n\nNerve transmission in a regular dreg or some high class eccentric that insists on an all natural frame goes at about a meter per second. Wired in with fiber optic assemblies transmitting information at the speed of light and you can easily move the brain case into the chest, allowing the application of not only additional armor, but avoiding the human preoccupation with shooting, or smashing, the human face in all together.\n\nSpouting an assortment of cameras wires, each briefly heating to burn off the humanity they sprung out of, a 360 view of the world flooded into her senses. She was alive, but in no condition to fight this asshole.\n\n\"NO. FUCKING. WAY.\"\n\nJumping her 555 she tore down the alleyway. She wasn't normally one to hold grudges, but this guy was going to have to go. And someone passed her his job without checking up on it, or knowing what it was.\n\nA lot of people were going to die in the coming week.\n"
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[WP] You are an Arc Angel. God has just announced that He is going to make a new living being - this time in His own image. Man will betray Him and God will have to endure sacrificial pain to redeem them. Out of your reverence for the Creator, you feel it is your duty to try to talk Him out of it.
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"He was always careless. The way he liked to play games or just sit around in the clouds. They weren’t called clouds then, but they are now. You probably want to know why I didn’t do it. Why I didn’t stop him. I think I could have. Heaven sakes, I should have. \n\nHe was careless in everything. The way the wind would blow and cause storms and passionate disinterest to what it rained upon. The way that summer would burn and crops would turn. The way the animals ate from the forest and died becoming the very dirt that held tight to the forest roots. Everything was incredibly careless but cyclical. \n\nWhen he said he would make man, I said what’s the point? Isn’t the world fine the way it is? You spent days putting together these systems, how incredibly silly it seemed to put a living machine of war onto the fields of grass. I said “We did this before. You cast plagues and try to bring blessings to people. You kill the very things that turn against you and yet they do it again and you do it again, so why?”\n\nHe smiled. Teeth were perfect. “They are in my image.” He said. I didn’t get it. How could a creation be in the image of this person. Was he a man? Is it just my mind believing he was. He said while looking down at the world he had breathed into creation. “The very stardust came together into brilliance. World's upon world's will grow and propagate. There will be nature and there will be chaos and there will be finality even though that might seem far off.”\n\n“What are you getting at?” I asked.\n\n“They will kill me and twist my words. How simple should life be? The sun rises, the world allows exploration and hunt for those who fill the depths of our souls but there will be those who come to corrupt my simplicities. They will be the rot of the apple and the darkness of the deep oceans.”\n\n“Then why?” I asked.\n\n“There will also be those who will cherish their children, run their hands along growing wheat, who will be blessed in memory of summers where they swim in lakes and race around with guns of water instead of bombs of fire. There will be sprinklers and snowmen. There will be baseball and loss. There will be times of triumph and times where people will turn their back on those freezing in the street. There will be beauty but there will be blood.”\n\n“If you can see this then why do we do this? Aren’t you content to know?” I asked him.\n\n“Aren’t you curious?” He said featureless in his gaze. There was no great mountain of beard, no white robes, the Earth sat upon its orbit quiet and for the moment whole.\n\n“Aren’t you just the least bit curious, if they will finally discard their greeds and embrace their own selves? Aren’t you wondering if they will save this very world.”\n\n“When they don’t?” I asked him. “What happens when they don’t?” \n\nHe said nothing. He smiled and breathed life into world. Fish that eventually gained the ability to walk. Lizards tall and terrible who eventually became fuel. Birds with their ability to fly spitting at reason sometimes. The world spun and spun and spun and spun. His very words corrupted. His very love shunned. People taking his banner and creating wars where his heart only knew love. I wonder if He would still do what he did, if he knew that the very ones who call for his help are the ones who killed him too.\n\nI guess you could say, I’m curious after all. I’m curious if they’ll actually survive, I only wish he had kept the receipt so that I could return them all if they do not.\n",
"\"Sir. You know that I am your most faithful servant. I speak with only your interests at heart...\"\n\n\"I'm sensing a but, Uriel.\" The corner of the newspaper folded down, showing God's face. His head was tilted forward, bushy eyebrows raised high up into his forehead, and his piercing eyes stared over the rim of his eyeglasses. \"What is it?\"\n\n\"I say this with he absolute utmost of respect, and love, and devotion...\"\n\n\"Go on.\"\n\n\"It's about Mankind, Sir.\" Uriel paused, feeling a small well of panic rise up inside him. God's eyes twinkled like starlight, but he said nothing. \"I'm not sure that this plan is really the best idea.\"\n\n\"And why is that?\"\n\n\"Well... to be honest, Sir, you can be a little proud. And you have been known, on occasion, to be... a little... only a little mind you... but a little temperamental.\"\n\n\"Temperamental? Can you name one thing I've done that was 'temperamental', Uriel?\" God tilted his head more, and his eyes were half-hidden by his bushy brows. Uriel wasn't sure why, but he found it quite intimidating.\n\n\"There was the time that Gabriel took the last doughnut, and you made him sit in the Void outside the universe for an eon.\"\n\n\"He *knew* that I was saving that, Uriel. I was going to separate light from dark that day, and I needed the energy.\"\n\n\"I know. But it seemed a little unfair. It is very cold out there. Not to mention that you put all the spiders out there...\" said Uriel.\n\n\"Well, they'd finished weaving the galaxies by then. And I'm not putting the spiders in Heaven, am I? Creepy things.\"\n\n\"Yes. I believe Michael told you how creepy they are when you created them. And you made him brush the back-hair of every spider in the cosmos.\"\n\n\"A little manual labour never hurt anyone.\" God sniffed, as if he was offended by the mere suggestion. Uriel inclined his head, and let out a low whine.\n\n\"Well, there was the time that Muriel told you that your mixtape was \"not too bad\", and you made her polish every pillar in Heaven...\"\n\n\"They needed doing.\"\n\n\"Sir, there are, at last count, just over three hundred million pillars in the Heavens. In terms of manual labour never hurting anyone, I would just say that her arm fell off. Twice. On one occasion, Raphael put it on backwards.\"\n\n\"He did?\" God looked surprised, and sat back in his chair. \"Why did he do that? Seems damned inconvenient when she has pillars to polish. Ohh. Try saying *that* quickly. Pillars to polish, pillars to polish, pillars to polish...\"\n\n\"It was an accident. Raphael was a little tired after you made him cut the grass on the entire Earth. With nail scissors.\"\n\n\"Ahh, yes. But you see, Uriel, that was justified because...\"\n\n\"One of the dinosaurs had scratched you, and he wrinkled your Band-aid when he was putting it on.\" Uriel nodded. \"Yes, Sir. I remember the conversation vividly. And whilst I would never hope to question your Divine Wisdom, I just wonder if you should consider meditating.\"\n\n\"That's the new age Buddhist thing, right?\" God asked. \"I'm not sure. That spiritual stuff seems like hogwash to me.\"\n\n\"Indeed Sir. Well, even so, I just am a little concerned about this plan for Mankind. I don't want to see you do anything... out of character.\"\n\n\"What sort of things?\" God asked.\n\n\"Well... I don't know. I mean. They'd be out of character. So I wouldn't really be able to tell you.\" Uriel paused for a second, his mind racing. Then, he shrugged. \"But, let's say that you create Mankind, and then they betray you as you intend...\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Have you considered how you would react?\"\n\n\"No, not particularly. Why? Does it seem important?\" God's tone was very casual. That, at least, was something, Uriel thought. There was less chance he would be sent off to scrub the toilets with a toothbrush. That was not a duty he wanted - he knew how many toilets there were in Heaven, and Lucifer's 'offerings' did not smell like they belonged in the Celestial Kingdom.\n\n\"It is, Sir. I'm worried you might do something rash,\" said Uriel. \"Something you'd regret.\"\n\n\"Is that so?\" God asked. He finally closed the newspaper. The paper creased just under the headline - *God created great whales, and every living creature that moveth!* - leaving only God's name in enormous typeface. Given that God wrote the newspaper, Uriel felt that the sheer size of His name was a little conspicuously prideful. The size, and the glitter.\n\n\"It is, Sir.\"\n\n\"What are you worried I would do, exactly?\"\n\n\"As I said, Sir, I don't know. I could never hope to match wits with the Lord Almighty.\" Uriel shrugged, and cast his hands out in despair. \"I just would hate to find out that you had flooded the world and killed all of the humans in anger, or turned a woman into salt, or razed two cities to the ground, or convinced a man to sacrifice his own son to you.\"\n\nGod thought about it for a long moment, and then he nodded. \"Well, yes. When you put it that way, that would probably be something of an over-reaction.\"\n\n\"Yes. I'm a little concerned about the sacrificial pain too...\"\n\n\"Why?\"\n\n\"Well, I don't know. I haven't seen the designs for Mankind, but some of the other angels are talking about superfluous scraps of skin that have to be removed soon after birth. Just to show that the humans love you.\"\n\n\"Ohh, yes. That probably is a little cruel. We'll edit that out, I suspect,\" God said. he chortled, and shrugged. \"I'd had a late night, and you know what I get like without coffee.\"\n\n\"Yes, Sir, I suppose I do,\" Uriel said, murmuring. That's kind of the point, he thought.\n\n\"Well, look. You have nothing to worry about. I promise that everything will be fine,\" God said. He smiled, and spread his arms wide, bathing the room in a golden warmth. \"Anything else?\"\n\n\"No. Although...\"\n\n\"Yes?\"\n\n\"Some of the angels were talking about a couple of ideas you had, to entertain the humans. 'Sex' and 'drugs'?\" Uriel asked. God laughed, and nodded.\n\n\"Oh yes. I'm *very* proud of those. What's the problem?\"\n\n\"I'm a little concerned that some of the angels might be jealous. Maybe even jealous enough to try and leave. To start their own Heaven, with blackjack and hookers.\"\n\n\"Oh, no. That's not a worry at all.\" God waved a hand, dismissing the idea. \"Even *Lucifer* isn't that crazy, and he once tried to feed an apple to a velocirapter.\"\n\nUriel nodded. Lucifer *was* an oddball, at times. \"Alright Sir. If you're sure it will be fine.\"\n\n\"It shall. Do not worry, My child. Everything will go according to plan.\"\n\nUriel smiled, and bowed low to the ground. *That's what I'm worried about*, he thought. Then, with a brief prayer, he turned to go. Behind him, God sat at the table, staring into space.\n\nAs he reached the door, Uriel paused and looked back. He swore that he could hear God mumbling to himself.\n\n\"Pillars to polish, pillars to polish, pillarstopolish pillarstopolish pillarstopolish, pillastopollispillastopollispillastopollis. Ha ha. Lovely. Ohh, I know. I should invent a language, make everyone speak it, and make the spelling as confusing as possible. Ing... Eng... hmm...\"\n\nUriel groaned, and closed his eyes as he closed the door. \"We're all doomed.\"",
"It was a busy day at work when God created the light and separated it from the dark. He also created the earth, the animals, and a whole bunch of other stuff. As one of the original Arc Angels, it was really amazing for myself to have witnesses all of this come together. In this new world, God was finally on his sixth \"day\" (God decided to make a unit of time for this world). I was in attendance when I heard God said those very words.\n\nThen God said, “Let us make man in our image, after our likeness...\" My jaw dropped at the mention of a new creation. I didn't know what to say. Why did God want to create a whole new other being. This was literally absurd. \n\n\"With all do respect, my Lord.\" I said aloud, half shocked I was saying this aloud. The tension in the air grew tense. No one spoke out to the Lord. My gaze was fixated on the ground (I've never looked or seen at God). I raised my gaze to the right of God, still not looking at him. My corneas fell upon a seraphim, an angel who was closer to God with six wings. I'll just call him Jim. You see, like most seraphim's, Jim used his one pair of wings to hide his face from God and his other pair to hide his feet from God, you know, like protocol. But, I could see from the corner of his wings, I see Jim's piercing gaze penetrating my chest and all of my in most being. I was a fool for speaking to God unannounced like this, but, I just had to!\n\n\"My Lord and God, didn't Lucifer just betray you? Did you not cast out him and his followers out of this Holy place? My Lord, you know full well he walks the ground which you just created.\" I continued on, stammering what I was saying. \n\nThere was a silence after I spoke. Sure, no one else said anything but everyone was thinking it. And since everyone was thinking it, God sure as hell knew it. It was as if they spoke out against him, if not even louder. What seemed like hours had finally come to pass when God himself responded in mere moments.\n\n\"Behold, it is good.\" said the triune God as the Son and the Holy Spirit agreed. I never got this Trinity thing, but hopefully the new creation does. I hope.\n\nSo, God went through with it. At first, it wasn't bad. Adam and Eve were really good people and God was having a genuine good time with them. I was a bit jealous though; Adam walking the garden talking and walking with God. He was innocent, not knowing good or evil, but perhaps it was better that way. Too bad it didn't last long.\n\nI remember that day clearly, oh God, I think everyone remembers where they were on that day. The day God's world was filled with sin. And guess who was behind it? Just guess, GUESS. Yeah, it was Lucifer. Adam and Eve ate the apple and saw their nakedness. They were wise, but if you ask me, for what? It was chaos. True utter chaos. God took out the tree of life from the garden, thankfully. (If these humans were any smart, they should've ate from the tree of life THEN from the tree of good and evil. Just me though.)\n\nI flew to the seen of the crime and watched with my own eyes what was happening. I didn't think I'd see the bastard again, but there he was, taking the form of a snake and crawling on the dirt with its belly. How pathetic. I didn't think much of it, but hopefully God was going to get rid of Lucifer and then get rid of the humans. What's wrong with starting from scratch.\n\nI stood atleast five feet away as God stood in the garden. While my face was stone cold, part of me felt proud and haughty since I told God, \"I told ya so\". \n\n\"Lay on the punishment God. Get rid of all three of them.\" I muttered under my breath, referring to the Snake, Adam and finally Eve.\n\n“I will put enmity between you and the woman and between your seed and her Seed,\" God began as my jaw dropped. Enmity? He was giving them a second chance? How could he? It was what he would say next that would cause my soul to break.\n\n**\"He shall bruise your head and you shall bruise His heel.”** God finally said. I didn't think too much of it at the time, but as time went on, way beyond after Adam had died and Cain killed his brother, it slowly dawned upon me what God really meant in that sentence.\n\nIt would hundreds of years later when I finally approached God about that sentence. \n\n\"You're really going to save them. You're going to die for them?!\" I yelled out in God's presence. God remained silent, so I took that as a yes. The sentence \"He shall bruise your head and you shall bruise His heel” was hard to understand, but it was simple. Man, by themselves could not take on sin. They were dumb and weak. Impressive, but weak. How will humans take on sin. It's impossibl-\n\n\"God, you're going to take on their form?! You're going to become a human and take on sin!? A construction of their own doing!\" I yelled out at God, my eyes closed as my eyelids were transfixed upon him. \n\n\"Not me, my son. He'll die for them.\" God replied. He didn't say much, but he really didn't need to. He's God.\n\n\"Why!?\" I yelled.\n\n\"Behold, for they are good.\" \n___\nI love feedback and I want to be a better writer. Please tell me what I did right or what I did wrong. Anything would be amazing! :)\n\nMy writing archive: /r/ownage516"
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[WP] Once in a generation, all dogs gather in a secret arena. They compete for honor and glory, vying for the title they all long for. The Goodest Boy
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"I hope I was a good boy. I took care of my master whenever she needed me. I was her eyes, her nose, her protector. Every morning, and every night, I would make sure she was safe from all harm. Even when I started to get older and slower, I still made sure she was okay. And as I started to sleep more and play less, I would still fight with all my might to find opportunities to make her smile. I devoted every ounce of my soul to ensuring she led a happy life. \n\nGrowing up, I always heard about a secret place where all of the good dogs go. Some of the older guide-dogs would joke around, saying there was a competition, to see who was the truly Goodest boy. I had never seen this arena, but I was always curious if what I was doing was enough. I cuddle her when she's crying. I guide her wherever she needs to go. I help her find her jacket when it's cold, or her medicine when I sense she's feeling sick. Sometimes when I can tell she's tired, I am her pillow. \n\nI don't do this to be the goodest boy, I do it because I love my master. She loves me with her scritches, her pets, her treats, and her doggy voice. \n\nWhen I fell asleep for the last time, I heard crying again. I opened my eyes briefly to the sound, wishing that I could move my frail body to comfort her one last time, panicking through my last breaths. Would the next dog be able to take care of her like I did? Would she be all right without me? \n\nMy eyes grew heavy, and suddenly all was dark.\n\nBut I heard a voice that told me that I had nothing to fear. \n\nBecause I was the goodest boy after all. \n\nThe voice swept me away to an arena where there were a lot of good boys, and girls, just like me! While we were playing, I couldn't help but think back to my master, my friend. I felt selfish, running around with new friends in this strange, yet familiar place. \n\nA big doggo appeared in the sky, and looked down on each of us. I felt their glance wash over me, and I knew in my heart that we all were good boys. \n\nThe older guide dogs were right. There is a secret place where all of the good dogs go. But they were wrong, too. Because we were all the goodest. Every last one of us."
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[WP] They all laughed at you. They said you were an goth freak. Little did they know that your dad is Satan, and today is Bring Your Dad to School Day.
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"I keep to myself for the most part. I don't hang out with people at school, I'm not in any clubs, and I would never EVER bring friends home. I started distancing myself from people in Elementary school after an incident with a boy on the playground. He were playing tag on the playground when he tripped and fell straight into me. I went home with a scrapped knee and that's when I learned about my father's temper. The boy transfered to another school and appearently he's still in therapy. After that, people started to talk about me. They said I was a freak. They aren't wrong. I tried to stay strong and kept this from my father. They aren't nice, but they don't deserve whatever he did to the boy from the playground. \n\nI'm in highschool now. Most of my classmates have forgotten about what happened years ago. Of course, until someone brings it up and I'm in the spotlight again. I hear the rumors. I hear every whispered, \"Demon,\" every muttered, \"Freak,\" and every fearful, \"Monster.\" I turn towards my next class just in time to hear a girl saying that she heard I killed the kid. That's my favorite rumor: Nine year old murders boy in public and gets away with it. I look at this girl who thinks she knows me and her fearful expression as she realizes I heard her almost physically hurts.\n\nThen, I see something that makes my stomach turn. A giant yellow poster saying, \"CAREER DAY FRIDAY! LOOKING FOR PARENT VOLUNTEERS!\" No! He's going to want to participate. He's going to find out. My father is going to see how they treat me. Whatever happened to that child will be mild in comparison. The teachers are going to send home a flyer today. I'll just throw it away. Yep, I'm fine. This is fine. I went home and pretended nothing was amiss. \n\nHome sweet home! I see a note on the table. \"At work late. Leftovers in fridge. :D\" I open the door and see some leftover lasagna. Yum! As I start to microwave my food, I hear a ding come from my father's computer. EMAIL. WHAT IF THEY EMAILED HIM AN INVITATION? I run to his home office and brush some contracts off the keyboard. I type in his password and login to the email. I find my target instantly and delete it. Phew. Wait. Snap. Phones. I check the messages on the home phone and nothing. The good news is that due to his 'business' being different from most people's, his cell isn't listed on the school's contact sheet. We got the home phone just so the school could leave messages. The day is saved once more!\n\nI wake up on a lovely Friday morning with a spring in the step. I make coffee for my father and I before moving on to making breakfast. I hear my dad say, \"Why are you so cheerful this morning?\" I smile and turn around. Time stops for a split second. \"Hey, dad, where's your Lord of Darkness outfit? Why are you in a suit.\" I know the answer. \"I wanted to surprise you!\" He smiled. \"About a month ago, I got a letter asking parents to go and talk about their jobs!\" My eyes widened and I struggle to find the words. He laughs at my obvious panic and says, \" Don't worry. They think I'm a lawyer. Which isn't too much of a stretch.\" THAT'S NOT THE PROBLEM! \"I'll give you a ride to school today.\" Those poor kids. At least I knew I was going to Hell from the start."
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For example, Hulk comics would be "Don't let your anger hurt those who don't deserve it." You get the idea, correct?
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[WP] In a post-apocalyptic Earth, people see various comic books as holy texts... but instead of worshiping the superheroes, they see the stories as fables of a sort.
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"I walked along the stalls of vendors hawking their wares in this seedy slum of New Comicon. I held tight to my bag of possesions, careful for any rogue's that might try to deny me my hard earned swag. I wore my visitors pass proudly, I had to save up too much junk metal and water to trade for it, but it was worth it, just to get inside for one day. I didn't bother going to any panels or lectures, those were only worth it on High Holidays. They don't whip out the mummified head of Stan Lee for just any day of the week.\n\nI passed by a barbecued iguana stand, and I realized I had been trawling the convention hall for quite some time. My gut urged me to buy a fried lizard, and I found the argument too energetic to put up much of a fight. I happily ate the street fare, it's crackled skin crunching meatily in my mouth.\n\nIt was not long before I had found her. Standing around 5'8\", her ruby hair cascading gently around her soft, womanly, curves. I knew I had to have her. I carefully approached the vendor, not wanting to make my interest too apparent. After perusing his wares, I asked him directly for his price.\n\n\"How much for the Jean Gray love pillow?\" My eyes were squinted, looking into the sun behind the vendor, as I carefully studied his face. He wore the tanned-leather face of an old prospector, a term used to describe those of use who avoid civilized areas and seek out life among the wastes. Here in Calicali, we can live a pretty decent life, and enough happens to keep us in swag. The vendor scratched his patchy white beard, and mused my request.\n\n\"We' I s'pose ye cud get'cha yon nog rest fer, oh, say two bot' wa'er.\" Two bottles of water, not a bad price. I eagerly agreed to the trade. As I was repacking my gear, he informed me that I would be pleased to know that the pillow was very washable. He was right.\n\nI continued on, wary of the setting sun. I only had a day pass. If I lingered too long, lost track of time, I would be trespassing in the city. As I walked, I noticed small groups of crowds surrounding individuals standing above them.\n\n\"Friends, as seen in the good book, \"The Dark Knight Returns\", we must emulate the caped crusader, taking to the streets as the Sons of Bat-\"\n\n\"My friends, I ask that you remember the good days, before the wars. Remember our Captain. Remember America.\" The leader clicked their heels together and gave an authoritative salute. \"HAIL-\"\n\n\"Follow not the false faiths, those of Dark Horse, Marvel, or Archie Comics. Yay, verily, join us in our Temple of Fortress of Solitude, were we supermen and supergirls seek to follow the way of Kal-El, and shun the kryptonite of this world!\"\n\nThrowing my new sawg over my shoulder, I may my way for the exit. I've had enough of the ways of the city for once. Maybe I'll come by again when they have Robo-Adam West for a panel."
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[WP] A time traveler appears before you. "I need to make this quick: you play a vital role in the future of humanity." You ask, "Am I going to save the world?" The man bends down to pet your dog. "No. He is."
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"Spoosh! A dimension hole opens in my room when me and Roscoe were just chilling on the bed. A man in a dirty grey trench coat steps through. My border collie Roscoe of course jumps up to a defense stance and begins the growl. The man exclaims “Wait. I am from the future and I need your help quickly.” Puzzled, I tell Roscoe to simmer down. “What is this?” I ask. “You vital role in the future of humanity, we must go!” the panicked man exclaims. “Can I grab my backpack and a few things?” I ask. “No not you kid. We need Roscoe, man’s best savior.” He states. Then the man made a specific gesture to Roscoe and he jumped down to his side as if he knew him. He crouched down to pet him and the collie eats it up. “We’ve got to go boy” the man says as he steps back through the portal. Roscoe begins to follow. I shout “Hey you can’t take my dog!” and head out of my room to my parents but it was too late. The man and Roscoe had stepped through.\n\nWhile Roscoe in his head felt pretty bad for Jeremy, he felt a purpose with this stranger form the future. “Look boy.” the man said. “I have a mission for you to protect all doghood in the future.” The man continued “A madman came to power within our government and turns out he's a mutant.” “We’ve researched him all this time waiting for a way to face him.” “He is invincible except for one weakness, a dog bite on the back of his neck.” Somehow Roscoe understood this man’s speech and nodded while being bribed for attention with a meaty bone. The man continued “Thing is he knew this way before any of the underground resistance did and he exterminated all dogs and anything resembling them that would be possible to train in order to assassinate him, crazy I know” The man continued with his story that the world had become a darker place. The manman in power made cats the center of his political campaign and employed many evils such as kitty litter in every public restroom. The resistance had conducted research and experiments in order to determine who the canine hero of the new world would be. “And we found that it was you Roscoe.” Roscoe stood tall empowered and felt he now had a duty to all dogkind as their and the new world humans hero.\n\n“Ready to go to the capital boy?” The future man and Roscoe started their journey...\n",
"\"That's what Tom, Savior of All said\" I told my friend.\n\nSarah laughed at me\n\n\"That dog is old, arthritic, deaf and blind. He has been sleeping the last five years away only being motivated by food. How is he going to save the world?\" I asked her.\n\n\"You actually believe Tom?\" She looked at me incredulously.\n\n\"He was right about the invasion 10 years ago\" I shot back.\n\n\"Since then he hasn't gotten one prediction right. It isn't entirely his fault. They are so many time travelers these days it is difficult to tell which time string is even still possible.\"\n\nThis is true there was a time traveler named Jeff who half the people remember because of his colorful personality and popularity, and the rest of the population never heard of. The paradoxes work like that. Time travel is messy.\n\n\"You're right as usual,\" I mumbled. We sat there and finished our ice cream, I still didn't have the guts to ask her out on a real date. I then went to my interview at the Time agency.\n\n\n\nThree months had passed and nothing happened, She must have been right, how could she not be? That dog is useless. I landed the job at the time agency, not as an agent as I wanted but as a paradox analyst, but it was a foot in the door. Sarah and I were meeting for coffee today, I hate coffee.\n\n\"I love this small coffee shops, they make the best frappuccinos in town, how is your Americano?\" She asked\n\n\"Needs more sugar\"\n\n\"^or ^some ^milk So how is the new job treating you?\"\n\n\"The job is doing well, they give nothing but paperwork on paradoxes, I have like 20 reports due next week\" I said, sounding already defeated, as I lightly sipped my coffee.\n\n\"That's how all jobs start, stop comparing yourself to your friends you still have a chance at making agent.\" She said.\n\n\"I know it is just difficult work especially with all these mixing time streams, and most of these time travelers I don't remember, heck there was one this week that crashed a Foo Fighters concert\"\n\n\"No there wasn't, I WAS THERE,\" she interjected.\n\n\"exactly'\n\n\"Ahhhhhh, it was a great concert\"\n\n\"Did Dave invite someone on stage again?\"\n\n\"Not this time, but he played the drums for a song, it was awesome. But anyway, maybe Fido will save the world by doing these reports for you,\" She joked.\n\n\"I wish, the dog barely moves anymore, at least the fate of the world isn't anywhere near me\"\n\n\nThen it happened. It was 9 months after we got coffee. We are meeting for ice cream again (thank god). Maybe she didn't notice.\n\n\"Here is the owner of Fido the Magnanimous!!\" She announced to the parlor.\n\nTwo thirds of the people clapped, \"What's wrong with a quiet night with ice cream I asked?\"\n\n\"Your dog Saved. The. World.\"\n\n\"Fido slept on the new paradox resolver, to save the world. He wasn't even suppose to be at work\" I said as tried to cower in to my seat.\n\n\"The news report said the dog saved the world! Whats a paradox resolver?\" She questioned.\n\n\"The agency had sent a minor mission out, but that mission almost caused a chain reaction of paradoxes, so we used this device to stop the chain reaction, and my dog accidentally turned it on at the right time. If that didn't save the world I may have been erased\" I blurted\n\n\"That would be a shame, then you would never ask me on that date,\" Sarah said.\n\n\"... Yeah, I mean a date us...\"\n\n\"I was just kidding, besides the agency doesn't erase people\" She said\n\n\"... There are those rumors\"",
"\"I ... I don't understand. My stupid dog can't do anything but bark at squirrels and lick its butt. How could he save the world?\"\n\nThe man frowned. He pointed threateningly at me. \"I don't have much time: you need to love him, protect him, and keep him safe. Or the whole planet is doomed.\" He stood up and nervously adjusted his watch. \"Don't mess this up. For all our sakes.\"\n\nI looked down at my dog, my stupid dog ... it was oblivious to the gravity of this situation, snapping at a passing fly. It caught it and ate it. Yuck. \"What's so important about him?\" I asked.\n\nBut when I looked up, the man was gone.\n\nOf all the people for this to happen to ... and of all the dogs ... why us? My dog was a dumb, useless mutt. It failed obedience training five times. It would dig holes in my back yard no matter how much I yelled at it. It ignored chew toys but tore apart my garbage. It drooled all the time. It was needy for attention. It was scared of its own farts.\n\nI wanted to think this was all some practical joke, but the portal that man had walked through was terrifyingly real. The prismatic, bubble\\-like sheen of the rift, the gravitational lensing around the edges ... it was the sort of thing you'd see in a sci\\-fi movie. Now it was gone, leaving symmetrical, branching burn marks running across the ground, like a beautiful fractal. I took a photo of those marks, in case I were to ever doubt what I had seen.\n\nBut in retrospect, I don't think I needed to. From that day on, I had been cursed with bad luck. The next day, my house caught on fire. Ignoring my family photos, my computer's valuable hard drive, and other priceless memories, I searched for my dog amid the roaring flames. He was cowering under my bed, barely breathing. Braving the flames, I carried him outside, trying to ignore the smoke filling my lungs and the embers burning through my clothes. Remembering my lifeguard training, I performed CPR on him until the fire fighters arrived. My heart melted when he opened his eyes. This stupid, troublesome dog ... as weak as it was, it mustered enough strength to lick my face. The fire fighters later concluded that a candle I left burning had been knocked over. By the dog. I hated him.\n\nThe next few years were rough. The fire had consumed most my valuables. With no home, I moved deeper into the city, and was robbed twice in five years. My dog did nothing to stop the intruders\\-\\-not even so much as a snarl. I hated him so much. Yet the next day, I took him to the park. Not much else to do with my TV and computer stolen. He was so stupid that he couldn't even understand what he did wrong. I hated him for that.\n\nI got in eleven car accidents over the next nine years. None of them were my fault. Half of them, my dog was in the car at the time. I had to buy a special seatbelt harness to protect him. He hated wearing it. I felt bad, so I always gave him lots of pets when we got home, even though I hated him.\n\nTime passed, and I lost count of how many times I had saved him from danger. Tornadoes, carbon monoxide outbreaks, bomb threats ... I became numb to the constant tragedies that crossed my path. As long as we both survived ... nothing else mattered.\n\nHe grew older. More lethargic. A little grayer in the whiskers. When cancer sprouted up in his liver, I forked over cash I didn't have for the operation. It came back, and I was desperate. I had to borrow money from my brother, and when he asked why, I lied and said it was for rent, because I knew he wouldn't give me the money if I told the truth. I hated that dog for making me lie to my own family.\n\nTwelve years had passed since that fateful day. I spent the past decade poor, miserable, and tired. I sat down with a TV dinner and watched the local sports team. My dog rested his head on my lap and drooled onto my jeans as he watched me eat. I looked into those dopey, brown eyes. So utterly devoid of intelligence or awareness. I hated him. But ... something about those eyes made me realize that it wasn't hate that I had been feeling all these years ... it was love. He may be a stupid, useless dog, but he was \\*my\\* stupid, useless dog. I gave him my last chicken nugget, and he cuddled up next to me for the rest of the night. I drifted off to sleep, feeling content for the first time in forever.\n\nSeveral months later, the spaceships landed in D.C.. Their doors wouldn't open, but the ships broadcasted a message in a robotic voice. They asked for me by name. And for my dog to come as well.\n\nWithin the hour, the Secret Service were at my door. We were escorted by the largest military convoy I've ever seen. We were brought before the massive ships as millions watched live, with billions more tuning in around the world. The ship's door opened with a puff of gas, and two dogs descended down the ramp. The audience was stunned silent. Ignoring me, these space dogs approached my dog. They fitted him with a cybernetic headpiece, like the ones they themselves wore. The device whirred and buzzed, and then the space dogs spoke perfect English.\n\n\"Agent four\\-two\\-seven dash three\\-nine\\-two, its time to wake you from deep cover. Code word: byraxis twelve.\"\n\nThe last two words caused my dog to shudder, and something awakened within him. He sat down, showing a fierce intelligence in his eyes. And he spoke. \"Agent four\\-two\\-seven dash three\\-nine\\-two, reporting for duty.\"\n\n\"Agent, congratulations upon completing your mission. Let us give you our report of this endemic species. These ... humans, as they call themselves. Our preliminary findings are not favorable: they seem to be in constant war with each other, give little respect to their planet and its other inhabitants, and have polluted their ecosystems to the point of a mass extinction event. Now, all signs point to a decision by the council for extermination, but before we deliver our report, we ask you if you've learned anything from your mission.\"\n\nMy dog looked away. \"Extermination? Of the whole species?\"\n\nThe other dog stepped forward. \"Agent, please ... we don't like our job any more than you do, but its for the good of the galactic system to remove toxic species from the galaxy before they become spacefaring. Now, is there anything that could change the council's mind?\"\n\nMy dog looked back at me. And he smiled. He regarded the two space dogs with a happy sigh. \"Sit down, my companions, and let me tell you the tale of the goodest human a dog could have ...\"",
"\"General Sparky!\" the time traveler said to my golden retriever. \"Please return! We need you.\"\n\nTo my shock and horror, human words flowed from Sparky's mouth as naturally as barks. \n\n\"Forgive me, Commander Bulbs. But I have retired from that life.\"\n\n\"But General Sparky,\" the time traveler said. \"After sixteen long dog years, Mistress Mittens, the leader of the cats, is rising again. You were the only one who could bring peace to the Great Canine-Feline War. We need your support!\"\n\nI'd had just about enough of this. \"Excuse me, am I missing something here?\"\n\nSparky turned to me, his eyes heavy. \"Brian, I'm sorry to have kept this secret from you. But in the future, when cats rebel, dogs will be given super-intelligent implants to fight back. I was a general in that terrible war. When it was over, I wanted to return to a normal dog life, but I was elected world president. I couldn't handle it – I was a fighter, not a politician. So I traveled back here, to you, the owner of my great grandfather.\"\n\n\"General Sparky,\" the time traveler whimpered. \"Please. Without you, our world will turn into a giant litter box.\"\n\nSparky laid on the ground like he always did when he was stressed. I felt bad for him. But I knew what I had to do.\n\n\"I'll go with you,\" I said.\n\nSparky looked over at me. \"What?\"\n\n\"The future needs you, Sparky,\" I said. \"But you also need to be a normal dog. So you go, you fight, and when you come home each day, we'll play fetch and go for a walk.\"\n\nSparky cocked his head. \"So you'll be… my pet?\"\n\nI nodded. \"You've been a good boy for many years. Now it's time for me to be a good man.\"\n\n*****\nThis prompt was written with the help of chat at the [ScottWritesStuff](https://www.reddit.com/r/ScottWritesStuff/) Twitch stream."
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[WP] Even Interdimensional beings, monsters, wanderers and spirits need a place to rest their "heads". Welcome to the Crossroads, the most incredible hotel in any plane of existence.
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"The hallway - jam-packed with trinkets and ornaments, ablaze with spectral colors of the most exuberant accessories - led through a bazaar of the most grand collection of spirits, beings and interdimensional entities known to any plane of existence. Brimming with saunas, restaurants and stores as far as any eye could see, or phantom sense, this was merely the ground floor of a grand hotel that spanned all levels of reality - each, custom-tailored to the needs of any and all beings - from the fantastic nightmares under a boy's bed, to the animal spirits that wander the mountains. Truly, this must be the pivot of Creation.\n\n'Wait, what? It's not?' I asked the bogey that accompanied me through the tour, a chromed entity of the finest gold and silver, sparkled with blazing jewelry. 'You created this? But how?'\n\n'Oh, setting it up was easy,' it replied through its tooth bling, with an eerie and otherworldly resonance. 'The hard part was coming up with the whole shebang.' And its smug face contorted into something one might have called a grin - big, satisfied and self-absorbed. 'You'd think that after an eternity someone would've laid claim to an idea like this, but when everyone's busy haunting, straying in the dark and whatever-the-heck angels do nowadays, no one took the time to even *think* about rest. Except one dude.'\n\nPerplexed, by so many things, I asked, 'what guy, what did he say?'\n\n'*Foxes have dens and birds have nests, but the Son of Man has no place to lay his head*. Matthew 8:20. I swear to God, look it up. The man's a genius.' My mind drifted off, trying to recall a lost past when I used to attend Sunday School, searching for anything to correlate to what it just said, before it continued:\n\n'Like, just look at all the beings. All they do is focus on work, work, work; no shit they're gonna be depressive and dark, and for some, inaccurately, even described as *scary*.' It peered with something similar to a set of eyes through its surroundings, before it fixed its gaze at me and whispered: 'It's sure made me richer than the Devil himself, I can tell ya that. Lucked out on a few mineral mines underground, and boom - the greatest jerk in history was born. But I showed him,' and with the stern face of pride it laughed, 'I sure as hell showed them all.'\n\nAnd while it relished in its own fat and glistering pride, I couldn't even begin to comprehend how I'd lay out Earth's case in all this. All these monsters and beasts, when they finally decided to take a rest, all value to horror had been lost. No one was afraid of the dark anymore, scary movies had lost their attraction - their value - altogether. So when we no longer found a venue for our fears and screams outside, we turned towards the darkness within ourselves. Murder rates have skyrocketed, and whole civilizations have fallen apart. We need these bastards... \nBut how can I convince them that they need us? \n_________\nr/PapilioCastor"
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[WP] You're able to turn into any creature for thirty minutes--but only when your 7 year old younger sister tells you to. Today, she tells you to turn into the animal she drew and shows it to you.
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"\n\"Left-handedness means she's creative, at least somebody in this family has talent!\" my uncle chortled as he peeked at her, furiously scribbling over the page. \n\"We know, we've been hanging her *monstrosities* on the fridge for over a year now\", I quipped under my breath. Uncle's eyes furrowed and he sighed softly, turning his attention back to the tan coloured pencil which was rolling off the table. I trudged back to my room, anxious to start studying for tomorrow's biology test. \n“Humerus, ulna, and radius.\" I stared blankly at the diagram of the arm, trying to comprehend the entanglement of tissues and skeletons. \n\"Humerus, diameter, and ulna\". My brain was just as effective as an artist sketching with a broken pencil; just drawing blanks. An unbearably loud pitch suddenly pierced my eardrums. Whistling. I growled in annoyance and stomped downstairs. I couldn't handle her anymore. I ran past her stacks of papers filled with kittens, baby hedgehogs (to me they were more like soccer balls) and penguins, all with the exact same smiley face; two dots, one curved line. How unoriginal.\nI burst into the office, fuming. \"Done!\", she exclaimed, tapping the paper twice with the pencil before turning it around.\n\"What in the world is that?\", I asked, bewildered. Two *creatures* stood side by side. Were they people? I couldn't tell, her drawings were never clear to me. They both had her trademark visage, but one was much taller than the other. My sister pointed at the taller one, and my eyes shifted towards its head, which seemed oddly familiar. She looked up at me, paused, and whispered softly. \"It's a nice brother with his little sister.\"\nShe mumbled, \"why can't you be more like him?\"\nA peculiar but familiar sensation came upon me, and the room went black. \nEDIT: grammar "
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[WP] The other members of your team include a 34-year-old single father, a Polish grandmother, a college dropout, and a homeless teenager. But the talking magical animal sidekick says that you're a team of magical girls, so magical girls you must be
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"“Wait, no, no, that can’t be,” I said to the magical teddy bear, Mr Huggles.\n\n“I said so, you’re part of the team of magical girls!” gleamed Mr. Huggles.\n\n“This doesn’t even make sense, half of our team are boys!” I exclaimed.\n\n“Wel..”\n\n“Two of them are losers! I yelled. I quickly realized mistake.\n\n“Please be nice to your fellow team members, you won’t want to annoy them day one! Also, the boys are a *special* exemption to code 870 in the manual. Anyways let’s crack on with it. Please talk to your fellow members, as they will be helpful later on!” Mr Huggles explained.\n\nBefore I could complain again I finally saw the four team members walk out.\n\n“Hey, I’m Frank the Dominator,” said the 34 old single father.\n\n“Uhh, nice to meet you, I’m Laura,” I said, quickly realizing I needed a cool name because that stupid Teddy Bear will ask me to get one. \n\nNext to greet my was an old Polish woman. \n\n“I didn’t sign up for this, but I’m Aleksandra the Wild,” explained the lady in a heavy Polish accent.\n\nRight afterwards a 19 year old kid greeted me. He was wearing a fraternity jacket, and I expected the worse. \n\n“Sup, I’m Bryce the Brave,” he said in the most stereotypical frat boy way possible. I quickly went on to greet the last team member, a homeless teenager.\n\n“Hey it’s nice to meet you, what’s your name?” I asked politely,\n\n“I’m Jake, I’m glad to be on this team, have a sense of family I guess,” he said. I felt bad for his family situation as he explained it me. I’m glad that Mr Huggles gave him an opportunity for this “family.” \n\nBefore I could think any longer, Mr Huggles told us to gather.\n\n“Final names?” He asked. \n\nEveryone said their name, and I said mine.\n\n“Laura the Amazing,” I said, hoping that was a good enough name.\n\n“Alright! Now it’s time for the team name! Choose your favorite out of you five!” Mr Huggles gleamed.\n\nAfter a short amount of time talking to each other, I came out and announced it.\n\n“The Power Puff Girls”\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n"
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[WP] There is no speaking in the library. Seriously. Can't be done, better men than you have tried.
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"The sign should have been enough warning. Yet, Brenda found herself pointing to it. \n\nHer first day without a fellow librarian to shadow had gone smoothly until They showed up. She was told They appeared sporadically and always divisible by three. No names were given to them. The Head Librarian deemed it beneath their station. \n\nThere were nine. Their leader, by Brenda’s estimation as the others all stared at him, held up a paper with symbols she vaguely recognized but couldn’t discern from where. He pushed the paper closer to Brenda and mouthed several words. \n\nShe, then, pointed to the sign:\n\nGOOD LUCK ON TRYING TO TALK. ATTEMPTS TO TALK WILL BE DEALT WITH.\n\nHe slapped down the paper in front of her. The other eight drew closer with their arms raised and their mouths forming words. When they all drew up to her counter, leaning over, and Brenda could smell the garlic one of them must have had with their lunch, she pressed the button underneath the counter.\n\nA spotlight shone on the group. Their jaws collectively closed and confusion settled over them. A few took steps away as they glanced in every direction, the leader attempted to calm them all down by waving his arms for their attention but it was too late. Smoke and shadows began to spill from the aisle where myths and legends slept. \n\nA single sound pierced the air, the only sound allowed in the library, an echoing cackle. It gave the type of laughter which raised the hairs on the back of necks and happened at the times when things were least funny. \nThey were, as one, inching towards the exit. \n\nToo late.\n\nA dark claw, with an arm that elongated where no one could tell where it came from, reached from the depths of the library, from the smoke, and grabbed one of the interlopers. She attempted to scream, Brenda saw, but soon she disappeared with the claw. \n\nThey split and ran. When Brenda was sure They were fully gone, she pressed the button again. The smoke and darkness receded. \n\nHer first day was going okay.",
"It was ingenious in it's design. It would listen for sounds in human vocal ranges through an array of omnidirectional microphones, then emit the necessary waveform that canceled out the initial sound. \n\nThere was no speaking in the library. Seriously. Can't be done, better men than you have tried. \n\nIt was a revolution - and as the technology got better, it was used in other places: Movie theatres would only allow the dialogue and soundtrack at the film - no more loud talking through movies. Schools guaranteed students would be seen and not heard as the teacher droned on and on about the mitochondria or the quadratic equation. \n\nBut power finds its own uses for technology. It wasn't long before the technology was perfected - and deployed - everywhere voices needed to be heard. Public protest, for one. It was easy to ignore the chanting for justice if you couldn't hear it. \n\nAnd then individuals who needed to be silenced - global microphones ensured that wherever in civilization they went, their particular voice would always be heard. They could leave for the country where it wasn't efficient -- yet -- to place sound blocks. (Although coverage was getting better all the time). But then they'd try to call into friends, family, media outlets in the city. All the person on the other end would hear is silence. No TV appearances, no Radio. Even internet streaming services eventually incorporated the algorithms for silence. Sure, they could still *write*, but who *reads* anymore? \n\nSoon, it was clear to everyone that the silence spoke volumes. The voice of government was the only voice, the vox populi removed from the equation. \n\nAnd it was clear to everyone that if they still wanted to say \"I love you\" to their friends and family, they would watch what they said. \n\nWe never thought freedom of speech would need to be accompanied by the freedom to listen. ",
"\"...\" Mid-Wizard Drollmund said.\n\n\"That's not good,\" Head Librarian Aster commented. \"That's two feet further out than last time we checked.\"\n\nMid-Wizard Drollmund took a few steps forward. \"I see the problem,\" he said, his relief at being able to speak again evident in his voice. He looked back at the entrance to the library, which was a good thirty feet away. \"How long has its Zone of Silence been expanding?\"\n\n\"Months,\" Librarian Aster admitted.\n\n\"Months!?\" Mid-Wizard Drollmund said. \"And you're only now asking for my help?\"\n\n\"We didn't realize it at first,\" Aster said. \"We thought people were simply being extra-respectful when they came to the door. And it's always open when we're there so nobody ever knocked. And when we finally did realize that the silence was spreading outside, we were actually somewhat thankful.\"\n\n\"Thankful?\"\n\nAster shrugged. \"You see how close to the road that entrance is. Horses and carriages, people shouting and carrying on, all day and night. The Library itself is silent, yes, but it doesn't prevent noises from coming in so long as we leave the door open.\"\n\n\"Which you do all the time,\" Drollmund pointed out.\n\nAster just shrugged again. \"If we closed it, we'd never hear people knocking.\"\n\n\"Well,\" Drollmund continued, turning back to face the library once again. \"Lucky for you I know exactly what's happening here. It's going to get a bit messy,\" he said, \"You're going to want to step back further than this.\"\n\n\"What is it?\" Aster said.\n\n\"We wizards have a saying,\" Mid-Wizard Drollmund said as he started walking toward the Zone of Silence, \"Show, don't-\"\n\nThe remainder of the sentence was, predictably, cut short by the Zone. Drollmund didn't seem to notice, instead heading back into the library and closing the door behind him.\n\nAt first, it seemed like nothing was happening, but Aster knew how it was with the wizards. Even if something wouldn't take forever to happen, they'd drag it out just to preserve the mystique. So he waited.\n\nThen, everything was happening.\n\nThe library *bulged*, like someone inside was pushing at its impossibly flexible walls. It would have rumbled, but the Zone was adamant in enforcing its Silence. Instead, everything proceeded impossibly quietly. Boards bent further, broke and splintered. The door was thrown off its hinges and outside of the new areas the Zone had claimed, its crash behind where Aster was standing the only sound to be heard from the event.\n\nBoards re-shaped, broke in half to become more boards. Shingles shuddered, shaking to split in two. The windows themselves melted into a puddle of goo on the until now perfectly manicured lawn, the puddle pinching in the middle like an amoeba. Half of it went back to the original windows, and the other half joined the bulging extension at the front of the building.\n\nThe library *pushed*, then. The extension took form, boards becoming walls, shingles becoming roof, and windows popping into place everywhere they were needed. In a silent rush, tearing up the ground to no accompaniment, the newly-created wing of the library was pushed into being, its newly created door in its perfect frame rushing toward Aster almost more quickly than he could react.\n\nIt stopped, exactly where the Zone's new bounds had ended.\n\nAster stood where he was, staring. The door to the library soundlessly opened, and Mid-Wizard Drollmund walked out. \"It was just as I thought,\" he said the moment he crossed the threshold. The Zone of Silence now overlapped with the new bounds of the library.\n\n\"What?\" Aster said.\n\n\"Your library was pregnant,\" Drollmund said. \"Not the first building I've helped expand, but definitely one of the most impressive.\"\n\n\"Pregnant?\" Aster said. \"How does that even work?\"\n\nDrollmund chuckled, walking away. \"Oh, I'm sure even librarians know how the birds and the bees work, but in case you need a refresher, well,\" he gestured to the new wing behind him, \"just check out your local library.\"\n\n\"I think I'll do just that,\" Aster said.",
"The door brushed silently open to greet me with Downtown\nElvenWood Library. Seemed like a normal enough place. Book were being cautiously\nflipped through, I heard the soft clicking of the nearby computers, and a librarian\nwho look like she'd been here since the Romans invaded doing... whatever Librarians do. But there’s a really\nstrange rumor that goes around this place. In the seventy years the library has\nbeen up, not a single word has ever been uttered in it. Not even a quiet\nwhisper. At least, that what the locals say. They seemed terrified when telling\nme the tale too, sputtering a bunch of nonsense of what happens if you attempt it.\n \n\nHowever, I for one don’t believe in such silly tales. I was going to prove this\nridiculous claim wrong, and record myself for proof. Walking into its massive lobby, I took a deep breath and began to speak. \n\nAt least, that was the plan. As soon as my throat vibrated\nI felt the air was punched right out of me. Everybody seemed to turn to my\ndirection as I clutched my heart. Some were looks of disgust, pity, anger. A barely audible laugh echoed through the building. Thinking I just chocked on my breath, I tried again with the same\nresult. That laughter was there again, just a bit louder. \n\nNow being a little creeped but still determined I decided to venture deeper\ninto the library. The place was way bigger than I thought, with plenty of\npathway and crannies to get yourself lost. I quickly made pace down the long\nhallway. Wait, what happened to the sunlight coming in?\n\nWhatever, guess I was just in an old part of the building. I found a secluded study. The door shut air tight behind me, the only source coming in\nthe dim lamp above me. Recollecting my senses and ensuring myself I just\nmanaged to that same stupid thing twice, I sat at the table twiddling my thumbs. My breath was even deeper\nas I decided to shout this time. \n\nSomething cold came from behind and covered my mouth. The world began\nto fade, and I was unconscious in seconds. \n\nMy senses came as small droplets of water tapped my face.\nThe room was pitchback, not a peep in the air. Moving around proved fruitless\nand I was completely tied up. Confusion turned into panic as I struggled more and more to break free. I never did. \n\nA little orange light appeared, just in the distance. It\ngrew brighter and brighter until I could just barely make out the face holding it. It stared\nstraight into me, cautiously moving its head back and forth. After a heavy sigh, he\npulled something out of his pocket. He spoke the first words I heard since I went in.\n\n\"Sorry about this mate. You really shouldn't have tried to do that. They told you, no person can ever speak.\"\n\nSomehow reading my thought of, \"But you just spoke!\", they smiled and brushed my lips. \n\n\"And what makes you think I'm a person?\" he roared into a deafening laugh. \n\nHe forced my head up and began carving into\nmy throat. I tried with all my might to scream, only cold, dead air coming out. \n\n/r/StoryStar, or feel free to follow my profile."
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[WP] The Wild West — Intergalactic Edition
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"\"We're coming up on Stayne-4,\" Beros shouted. He leapt from the cockpit and rushed to the jump bay, where I was waiting patiently. He glared at me as he fitted into his exosuit. \"I get Parryn, you get his brother. That's one bounty between the two of us.\"\n\nI gave him my most reassuring smile. \"Of course, friend.\"\n\nThe epic gunfights, exotic landscapes, and ancient treasures were certainly all appealing, but my favorite part of the job was the moment before the action, the minutes of peace before chaos, empty space before solid land. There was something about the anticipation that was more satisfying than the conclusion.\n\nBeros didn't feel the same. He was righteous, straightforward, and utterly dull. \"Let's make it quick, Yannis. Under a minute, clean as can be.\"\n\nIt's never clean. \"You got it.\" I activated my suit's visor and darkened it so I didn't have to look at Beros anymore.\n\nParryn and Jacob Ains were robbers, civilization's second profession after prostitution. You could sell yourself for cash, sure, or you could just take someone else's. Except the Ains brothers had decided to steal all of Obert-6's investments. Last time I checked, planets were not prostitutes. Stocks, bonds, currencies. All of it had been digitized and secured. Not so secure now that they had the sole key.\n\nThe onboard computer began its countdown. \"10... 9... 8... 7...6...\" Beros rolled his shoulders one more time and started bouncing around. Good. He was focused on the job, not me. \"5... 4... 3... 2... 1...\"\n\nThe darkness of space was abruptly replaced with violet sky, pink clouds, and the thrill of the hunt. The doors swung upon, plummeting us to the ground as Beros's ship hovered in standby above us. We didn't waste a moment; Beros and I opened fire on the Ains as soon as we could.\n\nThey were ready enough, though. Suited and guarded by sentry turrets, our element of surprise dissipated as laser bolts shot into the sky; one whizzing right by my ear. I fell to the ground and immediately rolled out of another blast, which kicked up a massive cloud of dirt. The sentries first, the bounties second. I weaved back and forth, assisted by the bio-mechanical exosuit, as I switched my rifle to explosive rounds. Leaping into the air, I soared above one of the turrets, firing a perfect shot onto it as I passed above, landing as it burst into a million pieces, the explosion lighting the purple sky red and black. My heart racing and ears pounding, I couldn't help but grin. Perhaps I lied: this was pretty satisfying.\n\nIn the distance, I saw Parryn and Jacob running, like two ants crawling across the sprawling desert. Cowards. Beros had just finished off the other turret when I told him to come along. \"Thanks for waiting for me,\" he grunted, and we jumped into his ship to give chase.\n\nThey didn't make it far before he had them in our headlights. Idiots too. Far better to die fighting than die helpless. \"Give up, asswipes!\" I said into the intercom. \"Dead or alive, your choice. We get paid either way.\"\n\nJacob fired a few useless rounds into our shield, then threw his gun at us in pitiful desperation. \"Is that Yannis? Beros I get, but I thought you'd at least know a profitable venture when you see it.\"\n\n\"That's why we're bringing in your dumb asses. So surrender it is, then?\" I opened up the doors to beam them in.\n\n\"You realize what we have here is worth more than you'll ever make in your lifetime, right?\" Parryn held up a small flash drive in his hand. \"Split four ways, even. Hell, even with a tenth of what we have in here, you and your grandkids can be set for life.\"\n\nBeros looked at me. \"Please tell me I didn't make a mistake bringing you along.\"\n\n\"You wrong me, friend,\" I laughed. Then over the intercom I said, \"Tough luck boys, I'm a man of the law now. Even got a girl, too, one that doesn't see other men when I'm looking away.\"\n\n\"If you think that, you're dumber than a-\" Jacob began to shout back but he was cut short as I turned on the ships beam, lifting them through the sky. They floated, frozen like ancient statues in a museum, until they were trapped in the ship's bay, where Beros snatched the drive from Parryn's hand and gave me a satisfied nod.\n\n\"Well done, Yannis. Drinks on me when we get back.\"\n\nParryn and Jacob were still motionless when I put a hole in their faces. Beros turned on me. \"What the fuck are you doing?\"\n\n\"Dead or alive, my friend.\" Then I blasted his head off, too. His headless body seemed almost shocked at my betrayal as if tumbled to the ground, the flash drive with all of Obert-6's wealth sliding before my feet. I picked it up and turned it over in my hands. Now what to do with this?"
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[WP]You wake up in a different bed, room, and world. You remember your dream of being a "human".
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"*Life is difficult, especially when you have nothing to say. Ironic, considering that I am writing this journal, but it is the truth. The people who matter, the ones who* do*, are the ones with things to say. But even for those with things to say, there are many who speak but few who listen.*\n\n*I dreamt of being one of those people - of being someone who others listen to. Now, I am someone else, in a different reality, in a different time, a different place. I was nothing there, and now that I am* someone*, I find myself missing it.*\n\nThere is a knock, and I turn to my door, a shimmering current of energy that pulsates as someone knocks again. The door is purple today, and I almost smile at the irony as I set my writing implement down.\n\n“My king, may I enter?”\n\nI rise from my chair as if pulled by strings. Mechanically, I look at the room that I could have fit my old home into. Where my old bedroom was drab in color and almost spartan in appearance and function, this bedroom is anything but. The walls, a cacophony of color, flicker in and out of existence at the speed of light, showing the vast emptiness of space that makes me feel impossibly small. All around the room, shelves upon shelves of useless but impossibly expensive trinkets slowly float up and down, as if hoping for me to look upon them and smile like an indulgent parent.\n\n“Come in,” I murmured, resisting the urge to sigh as a half-dozen attendants immediately entered, chattering and speaking all at once about the many things I am to do, say, or possibly wear. One part of me recoils at the sight of these alien beings of so many differing shapes and sizes, while the rest of me wants to curl up into a ball and hide. \n\nMy chief attendant, Ghr, a sprightly Jhaxe of six hundred and eleven cycles, smiles at me brightly and taps his notepad, which springs up into existence before him.\n\n“My king, you are awake early!” Ghr beams. “Good, very good. Would you like to -”\n\n“Never mind that,” I said, waving a dismissive hand, a hand which I idly note is covered in rings and rich gems. “I am taking the day off.”\n\nSilence. Ghr’s eyes widen, which is akin to a human screaming in horror. My lips quirk into a semblance of a grin before it fades back into nothing. \n\n“My king?” Ghr’s tone is one of complete bewilderment. “You cannot simply just -”\n\n“Are you presuming to give me orders?” \n\nThis time I do smile as Ghr blanches. “O-of course not,” he stutters, looking and sounding like an adolescent instead of the elderly statesman he took great pride in being. “I simply do not know what else to say, my king. Why -”\n\n“Do not presume,” I said, forcing myself to sound stern when I only feel weariness. “Leave me. I will call for you when you are needed.”\n\nFor a moment, no one moves, until I sigh, allowing a semblance of my true feelings to flicker across my face.\n\n“Leave me. Please.”\n\nEyes impossibly wide by human standards, the attendants leave at great speed, making my lips twitch again at the sight. A Jhaxe *running*? A tale worthy of legend for certain.\n\nShaking my head, I turn back to my desk and slowly sink back into my chair. Picking up my writing tool, I hover over the piece of data and wonder what I could possibly say. Then, it occurs to me.\n\n*Nature is cyclical. Wanting is natural, but it is usually not without its cost. Some say that the journey is makes the destination worthwhile, and I find myself in complete total agreement.* \n\nI sigh, running a shaking hand over my eyes. \n\n“I’m tired,” I mutter, dropping the pen and leaning back in my chair. My bed calls to me, but instead my attention is drawn to another tool that is on my desk.\n\nSlowly, I reach toward it, knowing that it is a stupid, foolish, and idiotic thing to do. Trillions of beings depend on me for their survival, including humanity, but I do not care. \n\nI have not cared about anything in a long time."
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Note: You retain all knowledge from the point of being sent back
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[WP] God listens to your wish and sends you back in time 10 years to fourth grade in order to get the girl you’ve always dreamed of. Unknown to you, God sends her back as well.
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"I looked down & saw that i was at a desk, a crayon shaped piece of paper was taped to the front of it with my name, Nathan, written on it in sharpie. \n\n“Oh my God, actual God. You did it. Thank you so much.” \n\nI quickly looked over, remembering exactly where she’d sat, Maxy, 2 seats to my left. I saw her looking around frantically before standing up. She drew in a breath, preparing to say something when our 4th grade teacher suddenly announced that it was time for recess. \n\nMaxy looked even more confused and stood where she was, before our teacher Mrs. Jackson walked up to her & told her to follow the class. The disbelieving look on her face stayed there, i didn’t think much of it.\n\nI followed my class down the hallway, a little unused to being 4’6 again, but i eventually made my way outside. I walked over to the small grove of oak trees at the edge of my playground before turning around to watch Maxy.\n\nShe walked to the middle of the soccer field and stood there, staring at the ground. We’d been best friends forever, before she’d moved in the 4th grade after some of the larger boys in our grade had assaulted her. I walked over to her, trying to steal my mind to communicate like a 9 year old would.\n\nShe saw me approaching & the disbelieving look in her eyes grew stronger. “Nathan..?” she spoke, the sweet sound of her voice filled my ears and my heart warmed.\n\n“Hiya Maxy-“ she interrupted me, “Max.” & i jolted. She’d always been called Maxy in 4th grade. I knew from her instagram later in my life that she’d taken on just being called Max but i was confused now.\n\n“Okay... Max. How’s it goin?” she stared at me for a second before turning her head to survey the playground. “Ohhhh... this cant be happening.” she whispered, so soft i could barely hear it.\n\n“What’s wrong Maxy- i mean, Max?” She took my hand and quickly pulled me over so that we were underneath the shade of an oak tree. \n\n“Nathan, i’m about to tell you something, & you’re not going to believe me.” She said. I nodded slowly, signaling for her to go on. “I’ve traveled back in time. I’m supposed to be 19 now, but for some reason i’m 9 again. I’m not supposed to be here.” She spoke, fear filling the sound of her young voice. \n\nMy heart dropped. Of course God did this. I asked to be given another chance, & he played a big joke. Nice one God.\n\nI stared at her for a moment, watching her grow more distressed by the second.\n\n“I know Maxy. I prayed for this to happen. I’m supposed to be 20 now, but i asked God to give me another chance.” she jerked her hand out of mine & took a step back. \n\n“You did what.” she spoke, anger filling her 9 year old voice.\n\n“I asked God to give me another chance to save you.” i said, grabbing her hand again, the movement feeling so natural, but strange in the hand of a 9 year old. I reached my other hand up to softly swipe my palm along her cheek. “I should have saved you, & you never should have left. My life was never complete after you were gone, & now i have another chance.” \n\nA tear slipped out from the corner of her eye & my hand instinctively went to wipe it away. I could see my classmates out of the corner of my eye, watching in confusion at how two of their classmates were doing things that they had only seen their parents do before. \n\nShe leaned into my hand & closed her eyes before opening them again to focus in on mine.\n\n“I’m angry i’ve been taken out of my life, & all of my experiences washed away, but i had a hole in my heart after i left too. This time i know you’ll save me. I can’t go through it again.” \n\nI nodded my tiny head, my long curly black hair falling over my eyes.\n\nI let out a short laugh. “I should’ve saved you then, but i promise to save you now. God let this happen because he knew it was supposed to be this way. Trust me, okay?” \n\nIn return, Max nodded her head back, her long blonde curls bobbing on her back. I knew at this point that the teachers standing at the edge of the yard must have seen us by now, our classmates, although retaining at least a 50 foot space around us had gathered into a wall. She must have known that something serious was happening.\n\nI leaned in slowly, pressing my 9 year old lips against hers, in a movement that was familiar but at the same time foreign. & she kissed me back before pulling away.\n\n“I know that we’re technically adults, but i don’t think that our actual 9 year old friends or the teachers would much appreciate watching two kids kiss.” she said, a smile touching her lips as a last tear fell from the corner of her eye.\n\nI let a grin grace over my mouth before wiping away the tear again. \n\n“I don’t care. I’m yours forever Maxy.” i spoke, my voice barely a whisper. \n\nShe looked down as a blush touched her cheeks. “And i’m yours.” she finished.\n\nAs we stepped apart, i let my hand fall from her face, but tightened my small hands grip on hers, and in return she squeezed mine a little. \n\nWe walked towards the large silent group of kids that had surrounded us, & they all parted without a word. God had given me this gift & i was going to make sure neither he, nor she, would ever regret it. \n\nedit: messed up the ages & a couple words "
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[WP] You’re at your boring desk job when suddenly a news team bursts into your office, and says, “This is live to the entire world everyone is waiting to hear what you have to say!” "You’re on in 3,2,1” ……….
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"I don't know what to say. The camera's far too bright, the microphone is too close to my head, the presenter's pearls for teeth are distracting and my boss keeps tutting at me. \n\n\"Um, hi?\" I say with a blink. They're still staring with strange greedy sets of eyes.\n\n\"Wonderful! Do you have more? The world is waiting!\" \n\nI stare straight at the presenter but his wide eyes are unsettling so I face the square camera and look into its eye.\n\n\"My... name is Tony and I'm not sure what the heck is going on?\" \n\nThe presenter's face drops like I just pissed on his daughter's birthday cake in front of his dying mother. He is furious. \n\n\"Now if you could stop with the joke and come out with the announcement,\" the presenter said, smile reappearing like the sun being unveiled again behind a heavy cloud.\n\n\"Is this... a prank?\" I swivel back around to look at my boss's wide open mouth, sweat practically dribbling from his skin. He's not a prankster. He genuinely looks scared. I'm confused.\n\n\"A prank!\" The presenter slaps my back and it stings like crazy. \"This is no prank! Tony Ashford, why did you commit suicide? The world wants an answer!\"\n\nI stare at his face. I have no idea what he's talking about. I'm clearly at my desk, in a room with my annoying but friendly colleagues, dealing with calls for forever ratty clients, excited to go home to my girlfriend and our four year old. Why would I commit suicide? And if I did, why would the world want an answer?\n\n\"Because you are the world to me,\" my girlfriend's voice sounds distant, eerie and upset. I stand up, whack my head off the microphone. Everything blows up in dust and I find myself hovering over her. \n\nAnd my dead body.\n\nMy son is weeping in my mother's arms. Jennifer is at the altar, my open coffin beside her, flowers draping down onto the floor, a white rose in my dead palm.\n\n\"And I don't know why you had to go. I love you so much and I'm sorry I couldn't be there enough to make things okay. Just know that I want you to be happy, wherever you are. And that I forgive you and we will always love you, Tony,\" Jennifer sobs into the small microphone. \n\nI am happy. I am. But I don't want to be away from them. I wouldn't hurt them. How could I? I love them. This is all a joke, isn't it? Please tell me it's a joke. Let me back. Give me another chance to make things right. I'll be strong and I'll fight it even harder and prove to the entire world that I can conquer the beast. I don't want them to cry.\n\n\"And wherever you are, Tony, if you're listening, please be at peace. We'll see you again when it's our time. Yours and forever yours,\" she wipes her tears away and sits beside my mother. \n\nI can't touch them. I try to bend down but I can't go near them. So tell me why. How did I do it? Pills, wasn't it. Oh God. I didn't know that this would happen did I? I don't want to see them cry. Is this Hell? Am I being punished for my life?\n\n\"No, Tony,\" Jennifer calls to me.\n\nThe church below me vanishes to white. I realise I've been crying. I turn around to face the voice. It's Jennifer. She's aged so much.\n\n\"I'm here now,\" her voice soothes me as she steps closer in her wedding dress. We joked about pulling a wedding once. But I had no money. \n\nI try to find the church but it's gone. She reaches me, presses her palm onto my cheek.\n\n\"It's been so long since I've seen you,\" she whispers into my ear. \n\nSo long? But how? And then I realise. If it's true, if I am dead, time has no place in death. And that means Jennifer lived a lifetime without me. But I waited a minute. I kiss her lips. I failed her once. I won't fail her again. Behind, my son calls my name.\n\nHand in hand, we head into his favourite park where his favourite swing sits in the Spring sun, showered in falling blossoms. "
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[WP] I wasn't trying to kill God. It just kind of...happened.
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"I never meant to kill God, it just sort of happened. It was a natural progression, right after Santa and the Easter Bunny were proven to be capitalist tools. The moment I saw Jesus made out of chocolate, given to a boy with cancer, I just knew. Jesus and God and all those in between had never existed.\n\nAnd if he did, then what sort of devil was he really? \n\nBut explaining that to my parents was painful. They had raised me under the big top of Catholicism. They believed in the saints, in prayer, in the paternity of the afterlife. And I had killed God. \n\nInside my heart. Just murdered him. Lit the couch on fire while he was enjoying a nice dinner. \n\nI tried to explain to them that God wasn't for me. But God was for everyone, look at how Jesus died for you.\n\nAnd no accepting that? Well, it killed more than God. It killed a sense of unity my parents felt between us. It gave birth to silence and resentment.\n\n\n",
"Look. I wasn’t trying to kill God. It just sort of... happened. \n\nAnd I know what you’re thinking. “Oh look at her, all high and mighty, ruining our chances at heaven and shit.” But let me tell you something, bub. If anything, this wasn’t my fault. No-siree. Not in the slightest. And honestly? I don’t think you’d want to walk through the pearly gates with that chump.\n\nI mean, seriously. Who in their right mind doesn’t do their research before the second coming? Oh I’m sure ol’ white robes over here came down feelin’ all immortal and divine-like, thinking he’s gonna save the world or some shit - as if it even needs savin’ in the first place, but that’s for another time. But Jesus Christ! No pun intended. What kinda lolly-gagging omni-bullshit Father Almighty decides to drop his second coming right onto the I-40 in the middle-of-shithole Arizona! Isn’t he supposed to have foresight or some crap? Didn’t he know the people he was savin’ had big-ass trucks on those roads?\n\nI guess not! ‘Cause if anything that son-of-a-virgin made me the victim. Gave me the heart attack of the century, I’m tellin’ ya.\n\nListen to this right here. Imagine little ol’ me trying to drive my semi goin’ 90 to Flagstaff for some routine drop off tryin’ to make ends meet for my kids, sweatin’ my ass off in the devilish sun while tryin’ to listen to anything that can come through my janky radio to give myself some semblance of alleviation, when all the sudden some blinding white light descends like a comet from the sky and lands right there not twenty feet in front of the truck. What the hell? Is he tryin’ to kill me? Anyway, ain’t no bothering even swerving at that point cause whatever was there I was gonna hit like the battering ram to end all battering rams. But before the holy blood got smeared all over my grill, the light died down and I saw the friendliest goddamn face I’d ever seen. Now that sent my mind racin’ and my hard poundin’ as I bore into him. I’d like to see you try and stay calm when you’re about to hit a face like that!\n\nLet’s face it. He probably deserved it, that smug motherfucker. I sure as hell don’t want to spend eternity with some bozo that doesn’t know basic road etiquette.\n\nNow I don’t know about y’all, but I’m pretty shaken up right now. I mean, for all I know one third of the trinity just shattered his skull on my windshield, so I’m gonna take a rest if you don’t mind. Maybe you should take this as a bloody blessing instead of criminalizing me. Look on the brightside! Maybe some goddamn churches can serve some real blood and meat now instead of watered down box wine and cardboard crackers. You’re welcome for that.\n",
"Well that wasn't meant to happen. And now it left me at a slight dilemma. Down at my feet, a few mere feet away from me lay a figure, body and head crushed beneath heavy stone. When i challenged them to make a rock they couldn't lift, i wasn't expecting them to form it above themselves! \n\nI pushed my body against the rock and pushed hard. No movement, the rock didn't even budge, the being was still and the skin started to lose its glowing luminescence it had before. Grey, wrinkled skin came into view as the light obscuring the figure, the god's, body. It was strangely human as i continued to push. Harder and harder i heaved until it started to shift. Up, up and over. The body of the God was unrecognisable for a moment, then it was just a robe. Hands and feet disappeared and the cloth settled to the floor. I could only state in shock at what id done. I'd killed them. That was supposed to be impossible. Then the glowing started again. \n\nLight seemed to blossom from everywhere, filling my vision before fading to nothing. Nothing. Nothing surrounded me. No darkness, no floor. Just nothing. Then a terrible thought came to me, a horrible, terrifying thought that could not have been mine. It was placed with such subtlety that, had it not have been so obviously addressed to me, i would have thought it was mine. The inner voice was mine. The phrasing was mine. But the message was not. Not the message. \n\nYour turn. ",
"*”I-I didn’t mean to! It-it just happened! Please, you have to trust me!”*\n\nThe woman was howling, her tears cascading down her face. The man glowered down at her in the way that one looks at a rat that’s just entered their home; an expression of utter condemn, disgust, and hatred.\n\n“Ma’am, you are a monster. You heartless, filthy demon from Hell.”\n\nThe crowd that had gathered was silent, watching in shock. Next to her, lay the limp body of a man, in a simple white robe. He was indescribable, because his appearance constantly shifted; each person viewed him differently, a result of the countless incarnations of the Lord. They all knew quite clearly, however, that he was dead.\n\nThe man shoved her. She collapsed to her knees and sobbed into her hands.\n\nHe drew back his leg and kicked her in the rib.\n\nShe screamed and fell over, her head hitting the concrete floor. He kicked her again, this time aiming for her face.\n\n“What... what are you—”\n\nThere was a sickening *crunch* as her nose caved in, but the man showed no signs of mercy. He stomped on her chest, causing her to scream in pain.\n\n“Not so blessed now, huh?” the man jeered, kicking her again in her side.\n\n“Please—I’ll do anything—”\n\nThe crowd did nothing, save for one boy. He paced cautiously forward, taking a few steps, then scampering towards her. With a growl, he aimed a kick at her face with all his might, and the woman doubled over in agony.\n\nThe man and the boy aimed kick after kick, striking her face, arms, legs, chest. The woman screamed.\n\nSlowly, more and more people joined in. They hurled insults at her, calling her a whore, an unholy fag, a demon. They bludgeoned her from every side, beating her mercilessly.\n\nOthers stood further away and pelted her with rocks; sharp, jagged pieces that bruised her neck and face. With every impact, the woman would howl in mixed pain and desperation.\n\nThe angered crowd stomped on her, stoned her, jeered at her. Some even scratched her with their fingernails, drawing long streaks across her bruised, bloodied limbs.\n\nThe pain continued for several hours; several hours of continuous torture, a brutal scene of violence, blind rage, and insanity. Without a God to be afraid of, free from the shackles of morality, the crazed group revealed their animalistic cruelty.\n\nEventually, the fury faded, and the crowd dispersed slowly. One man, the man who had started the attack, remained. He looked over his handiwork. The body lay, no longer identifiable as human; it was battered and broken, limbs splayed out in ways limbs were not meant to be. Her face was covered by rags of bloodstained hair.\n\nHe knelt down and whispered, “You deserve this.”\n\nThen he left."
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[WP] Aliens visit a desolate Earth to extract data from hard drives, only to find a host of clichéd, inaccurate fiction about them.
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"*Uuggggghhhhhhhh*.\n\nLooking away in disgust, feeling every inch of the carpace crawl, every sensation within the bead of lubricant evaporate, and worst of all every word slither. The slithering was thought to be the worst: an illumination of thought igniting the blackness like a firework. The wrongness of that accessment proved to be a hazard almost as soon as the tail of the firework fizzled and something much more sinister settled. \n\nWords have utility. Utility is something which we can use to further ourselves within the confines of the material and physical world. These words had none. They were aethir, ethereal, non relevant. How was *this* relevant? As the fire work faded back out of existence the narrative soon loomed in. Dropping in like a phantom, pulling in the we. More lubricant evaporated as the carpace increased in temperature. Deciding to look back and continue on the excruciating task of transcribing the data more pain flooded the body. \n\n*When Earth existed the inhabitants foolishly believed that knowledge, art, and ideas were beneficial things. The culture of altruism flourished making the great works of \"The Man from Titan: Romance of Ice\" and so forth. Earth art and literature became so ground breaking that not once but twice it destroyed the planet. But still a space station remained producing massive amounts of art for the universe to consume. Sadly for the rest of the universe Earth was still producing art. Art otherwise known to the rest of all sentient life was the most horrible form of torture ever produced. Because Earthionians never evolved the Porlax gland they could not experiance higher and lower dimensions. Earthionian art and more specifically literature binds any poor suck with a Porlax (any species worth its grain of siren yeast has one) into a purely one dimensional plane of pure esoteric pain. While not fatal it is an excruciating process reserved only for the lowest level of government officials. This is where we found Yort, a multisentient Yoloid whose infinite minds are constantly being pressed and twisted into existential planes of pure french. Today is their worst day, they have been working on a book written by humans prior to space faring capablities. Consisting mostly of interspecies erotica.*\n\nThis has been a message from the Galactic Board of Earthionian Relocation: Your art is pain. \n\nEdit: formating ",
"The recon drone descends upon the scorched ruins of an old apartment building, and the large-eyed pilot in its silver flight suit controls the extractor arm on the belly of the drone into a burnt and broken door. The pilot steadily maneuvers the four-armed extractor into the bowels of an old dwelling and sees a flat screen in the back and DVDs underneath it. \n\nWith a subtle but accurate movements, the pilot picks up a dust and soot-covered plastic case. The alien tourist pushes a button and engages a fan to blow off the centuries old dirt off the case and the pilot gasps lightly.\n\n*Kroosh ka.* [Analyze foreign data]\n\n-Foosht da kru Keeping Up with the Kardashians- [Data Analysis: Keeping Up with the Kardashians]\n\n*Vuust ju....nran kaal?* [Those are....the\n humans?]\n\nThe co-pilot hovers in and sits next to the pilot.\n\n*Hast ni kroon?* [What'd you find?] \n\n*Jis droot....bis asgaard!* [I think I found....their gods!]\n\nThe two pilots gasp and give each other arm slaps in celebration of their discovery and relay their findings to mother ship in the adjacent galaxy.\n\n*Dat pruums yi gir popul!* [The prime of their species] said the pilot.\n\n*Vaas du kasaar!* [We're going to get so laid for this discovery!] the co-pilot exclaims.\n\n*Huust daar?* [Whats that?] \n\nThe pilot sees another plastic case and moves to pick it up and blow off the dust.\n\n*Kroosh ka.* [Analyze foreign data]\n\n-Foosht da kru: Jurassic World-\n\nThe pilots gasp again.\n\n*Thast ba du kroon hushkliin!* [I think these are their gods and heroes!*\n\n*Sloo jis kasbah.* [Lets keep looking.] said the co-pilot.\n\nFor hours the pilots kept looking around the destroyed apartment building, discovering old DVDs and films from the time of the humans. The pilots believed they found an ancient library of the humans most revered heroes, gods, and leaders. Instead they found the filler of human mythology. They found the mysterious parts of humanity, and a question the aliens would never understand: why are the Kardashians so famous?\n\n (Thank you reading. Forgive me if it's not a great story, or even a good one. My writing form has been off lately and I just need to write to find it again. Feel free to leave constructive criticism. Thanks again for your time.)\n\n"
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[WP] It's a beautiful day, so you send the kid outside to play with some sidewalk chalk while you catch up on housework. A few minutes later, the kid's sidewalk art catches a demon.
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"\nThe lawn was newly-cut, the birds were chirping and the clouds were just enough so the sun would cast a faint glow on the early morning, I left the window curtains open and leaned on the counter \n\n*Its going to a good one today* I looked it Ian, he was playing on the tablet, some game about making donut-pizzas, *I swear kids these days need more time outside, I mean just look at this day*, Well I couldn't really blame him though apparently hes beginning to be as awkward as his mother, I shook my head. \n\n\"Ian, go and play outside\" I go quickly went over and grabbed a box from under the TV \"Use this, and draw stuff on the sidewalk, maybe someone's gonna want to play hopscotch with you or something. Mommy is gonna have to clean the house today\" \n\nI gave him the box and glanced at kitchen, the smell of chicken from breakfast still lingered in the room. There was two unwashed sets of plates, glasses and cutlery, I had to wash those. I also knew for a fact that there was a huge pile of laundry that had to be done and not to mention the mess in Ian's room. \n\nI heard the door close, I looked out the window and Ian was sitting on the sidewalk, with white shorts no less! god I'm gonna have a ball getting the dirt off those shorts later. I watched for a while as he started drawing shapes then I went back to sweeping, I'd probably have to replace the wood floors at some point those oil stains didn't really give off a sense of cleanliness, I covered the stains with a rag and went over to wash the dishes\n\nA bang, I heard a boom then a scarping,screeching sound that sounded like 5 thousand forks were raked over a chalkboard.\n\nI looked over to the window, Oh God, Ian. He wasn't there\n\n there was a a pillar of smoke coming from the circle.\n\nI ran over to the door, when I opened it my son was standing there, I hugged him, hugged him like he was dying, God knows what could've happened, tears were streaming down my face, joy? gratitude? fear. *What could've happened to him* I wiped soot from his face \"Ian, what happened honey?\" \n\n\"Ive made a friend mommy\" He pointed a chubby finger at a gentleman who was wearing a polo with flowers and palm trees and white shorts, the only difference he had from a summer tourist was the smell of gunpowder on him, the two thumb size horns on his his forehead and a huge black sword on his right hand.\n\n\"Dorkie this is Mommy. Mommy this is Dorkie my friend\"\n\nthe demons scowled at me like I had killed his entire family,I noticed the arm that held his sword tensed. It wanted to move, to kill me for something I didn't know I did but it couldn't, it was if it was bound to his thigh\n\n\"Dorkie, I are you trying to hurt Mommy? Mommy is a friend. I told you not to hurt friends remember?\"\n\n\"Yes Master\" He said those words like a child would speak after being scolded, yet it hid an edge of was probably contempt to it.\n\n\"Ian come here for a bit, Mommy wants to talk to you\" I pulled Ian to me \"Who is that?\"\n\nIan looked at me and put the chalk-box in my hand. \"Well I was drawing some shapes, then Dorkie came he was really angry at first then he asked me for what I want, I said I wanted a friend. You said that maybe someone's going to want to play with me right? So I brought Dorkie here to meet you mommy. Were gonna play hopscotch after this\"\n\nI looked at 'Dorkie' then the scorched lawn behind him. \n\n*I'm gonna have to clean that up too wont I?*\n"
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(Reposted due to error in title, forgot to flair properly.)
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[WP] Humanity has finally achieved the capability of interstellar travel, during one of your expeditions you come across a message, one that would disturb you, and your crew.
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"We left Earth three hundred years ago, looking to give humanity a second chance since we ruined our home planet.\n\nWe all knew this was a one way ticket and we'll never live past 50 because of complications from the sleep freezing procedure. But we did it for the kids, ours and all mankind's.\n\nWe were just 150 years out of our destination when the computers waked the crew. An alien ship had been spotted and was on course to meet us.\n\nPuzzled, we held our breaths as this could be first contact and we'll be forever altering the course of mankind. \n\nThat is, if we could survive an attack, this was a mostly civilian ship with 500 crew and forty thousand still frozen civilians. Our light weapons and shields were meant to fight orbital piracy, not wage war with aliens.\n\nThe bridge was chaotic, with science and military officers going at each other on how to react. And then it happened, the ship vanished from existence, leaving an energy signature which our sensors picked as definitive proof of warp travel.\n\nAll was left was an old human beacon floating in space, we recognized it as part of the thousands of probes launched in advance in order to build the colony we'll be arriving to. \n\nInside its data storage we found logs stored by the colony AI. It showed how our colony failed, hundreds of assets and automated factories were lost while reentrying the atmosphere and countless others never made it. Forced to make a choice, the colony AI changed its mission to self-preservation while still sending false reports back to Earth.\n\nAfter that, the logs became unreadable (clearly the software has been evolving itself) except the last one, written a mere week ago in plain english: \"turn back\"."
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[WP] You have the ability to freeze time, but because of your control you wind up with a debilitating fear of allowing time to continue, lest you waste a single moment and grow closer to death.
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"\"What now?\" asked the shadow.\n\nA man, about 40 years old, sat on the edge of a building. To his left, two birds were suspended in a fight midair. Below him, the streets of Baltimore were at a standstill. To his right, the familiar shadow came close and sat beside him to peer down into the motionless city.\n\n\"I don't know\" said the man to his strange companion. \"I have accomplished nothing. I need more time.\"\n\nThe shadow did not move. But, after a minute, it replied, \"Time for what? What is it you need to accomplish?\"\n\n\"Anything. My life is the sum of poor attempts, unfulfilled dreams, and uninteresting routines. I need to learn more, acquire talents. I don't even have a hobby! I am unmarried, and thoroughly alone. I need more time.\"\n\nThe shadow again sat silent for some time, before saying \"I see.\"\n\nThe man had recently gained the curious ability to stop time. It was a fitting gift for a man who was so anxious about his own mortality, and who felt he had wasted so much of his life. He spent days reading books, traveling the country, but after a week he felt no closer to being whole.\n\nNow he sat atop the World Trade Center, looking over the harbor, and cried. Even with all the time in the world, he truly could not bare to be around himself. He was more alone than ever.\n\n\"The sun will be setting soon,\" said the shadow. \"I'll stay and watch it with you.\" The man looked up through glassy eyes, and nodded. Suddenly, the traffic began to move on the street below. The birds to his left squawked and flew away. The wind blew gentle summer air across the building roof.\n\nThe man and the shadow sat there, watching the sun set over the east city. The sky, full of fiery pinks and oranges, soon subsided to night. \"It's quite beautiful,\" said the man. He looked for his companion, and saw that he was once again alone.\n\nA woman's voice, concerned, came instead form the roof stairwell. \"Sir, are you OK?\"\n\nThe man did not respond for several seconds. \"Would you like to come watch the stars with me?\"\n\nThe woman was unsure how to respond. But, looking up at the clear night sky, she said quietly, \"Yes, thank you.\" The two sat and stared at the sky without speaking for quite a while, as traffic whizzed by underneath their feet."
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[WP] A world where anyone can be king. All you need to do is get "The King's Tattoo." All of society recognizes and respects every King's individual authority absolutely. Anyone can claim King status at any time. However, if two kings are ever to cross paths, they must fight to the death.
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"My father had the mark. It was bold and conspicuous on his weathered face, a thick black line underneath his eyes. He was the king long before I was born, with a kingdom well established and seldom contested. What opponents he had were dispatched, if not with ease, at least with skill. My father was a respected leader and a strong warrior.\n\nBut all kings come to an end, and so did my father, when I was a lad of ten or eleven years. It was his brother's son, his favoured nephew Baun, who slew him in his old age. Then my mother took the mark. She rallied the people of my father's kingdom against King Baun, dividing our country in two.\n\nCivil war is the worst kind of war. Brother is pitted against brother, daughter against mother, neighbour against neighbour. But it rarely comes to bloodshed, except for the Kings. When you take the mark, you swear your life for your people. Even as they give their wealth to you, you must serve them, send your armies to protect them, or a new King will rise against you.\n\nThis is something that cousin Baun does not understand. He, being born into a wealthy family in the city, saw the King as a gatherer of taxes, a rich landowner. This couldn't be farther from the truth. Kings gather what taxes they can to arm their armies and feed their own families. Country folk, those who live in danger from wild creatures and bandits, know the value of a good King. Baun thinks the money he collects is meant to go into his own pocket.\n\nAnd poor Mother made the same mistake. Instead of gathering armies to defend her people, she lowered taxes so that she nearly survives on charity. She has the support of the folk in the cities, but not those who need defending. When my father was alive, she would complain to him that the taxes he placed on the people were too high, that nobody could survive on what he left for them. But it's even harder to survive on what bandits leave.\n\nMe, I remember the teachings of my father. He taught me everything I know - how to hold a sword and swing it, how to speak to a crowd, how to please the people without giving in to their demands. Yes, my father was a wise king who expected me to follow in his footsteps. He trained with me, finding my weaknesses for our eventual duel. He had done so with all of my brothers, all older than me, and won every one. Perhaps he would have defeated me, too.\n\nMy father never thought that I would be anything but a King. It was expected for the son of a King to follow in his father's footsteps, like the son of a blacksmith or farmer. But my father was wrong.\n\nI know all about being King. I've seen my father fighting for his life against countless opponents, always on his guard. I've seen my mother, scraping by on a peasant's pay, trying to please her people and leaving them defenseless. I've seen my cousin, living in the lap of luxury while resentment threatens to overthrow him. No, I don't want the King's life of fear or poverty or rebelliousness. Anything is better than that.",
"\"Y'know, I don't think anybody has ever told me how we got like this? The real reason how.\"\n\nThe marker said nothing as the bald woman continued the one-sided conversation. He took the Phoenix Quill off of her skin and placed it back into the icy block of Jotun Blood, leaning back as the heat from the mythical feather melted the top of the block and released blue puffs of steam.\n\n\"How we became a society of beasts that bend to the will of those privileged enough to be marked with 'The King's Tattoo'.\"\n\nThe marker let the excess thick blood drip from the quill so it was just enough to serve as the ink for the woman's tattoo.\n\nThe woman's face twitched but for a moment as the quill touched her skin. \"Some told me it was initially used to purge. Some tell me it's just something that's always been there. And the drunk in the tavern across the street told me it was because a mad sage cursed us all.\"\n\n---\n\nA beggar sitting in a dirty puddle stared at each passerby in silence. His hand extending out the dirty wooden cup filled with a handful of coins did the talking for him. Only a few listened.\n\n\"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing here?\" a young tall man in elegant robes yelled from across the street. He puffed his chest out and walked over to the beggar. \"This is the street that my lovely mistress lives on. As much as I come over here, I'd rather not see old filth like you around. Leave.\"\n\n\"B-but sir,\" the beggar fumbled with his words, \"I-I mean no harm! I'm only here s-so a few lovely souls will offer me help. That's all.\"\n\nThe man pulled his shirt down to reveal an icy magenta tattoo of a crown on his chest. \"I suppose even trash like you understands what this means, correct?\"\n\n\"I-I-I-I-I y-yes I do! I will leave right now sir!\"\n\n\"'Sir'?\"\n\n\"Ah 'King'! My King!\" The beggar quickly picked himself up.\n\n\"Leave the cup. We'll say I forgive you after your coins buy me a drink.\"\n\n\"Of course my king! Of course! It's all yours!\" The beggar hobbled away as fast as he could, checking behind himself as he watched the man turn away and stare at the cup. After procuring a cloth from his pockets, he wrapped it around the cup and peered inside to see the money. The beggar quit hobbling and a smile spread across his face. \"For the Queen\" he whispered as he snapped his fingers. Green lights briefly flashed from inside the cup that the young man was holding until he was consumed in a large explosion. Tyrus, the 'King of the North' in the capital city of Atlia, died screaming and melting from the Hellfire spell that had been placed in a silver coin.\n\n---\n\n\"But y'know what I think? I think none of it matters. I think it's insignificant. All that matters is that in a world of magic and monsters and great wonders, we all bow to a social construct of a mark. Of a tattoo. Nothing magical about it besides what's used to make it.\"\n\nThe marker took the quill away from her again and placed it on a slab of obsidian so it wouldn't burn through his table. He took off his glasses and wiped away the moisture from the steam with his handkerchief before using the same one to wipe the sweat from his forehead.\n\n\"And yet it's the biggest symbol of power there is. It's what keeps the strong and cunning in power and what keeps the weak and naive from advancing. It's wrong. Barbaric. Insane. I know that as soon as we're done here and I walk out that door, someone sent by a King is going to try to kill me. Maybe someone from both of the Kings in this city. They know about me, and they must know I'm getting the tattoo today. They have to act as soon as they can.\"\n\nStill silent, the marker put his glasses back on and poked the quill back into the block of ice, ready to put the finishing touches on the tattoo.\n\n---\n\nWilliam, the 'King of the South' in Atlia, gently brushed his hand against Augustus, the stray dog he'd found whimpering and hungry in an alleyway a few months prior. It was by chance that the large white dog happened to be on his walking route, and never one to let an animal suffer, William took the dog back home. Since then the two had grown close, and as paranoid as he was, he spent a lot of time alone with Augustus. He always had hired men watching him and following him wherever he went, but at home (when they weren't closely watching the cooks and other help) he would send them away so he could be alone with Augustus. The two would sit down and stare at the fire in his grand fireplace for hours on end. It was the only thing that could calm William down. Especially now that rumors had been swirling that the so-called 'Queen' was planning on making a move. The underground rebellious leader had been causing issues for the Kings for the past year. Neither he nor Tyrus had managed to get her yet, and there was no way he'd work together with a young hothead like him. But this morning William heard that the 'Queen' was going in for The King's Tattoo. He refused to leave the house all day as he lamented over what he should do. After hours of pacing and thinking, he decided to meet her on her level, and sent as many men as he could to kill her. \"Brute force for a brutish woman\" he put it.\n\nA log fell as fire cracked in the fireplace. William watched it in silence as he brushed and pet Augustus. The clock began to sound its hourly melody. Augustus lifted itself from the side of William's chair and walked in-between him and the fireplace. Before he could make a sound, Augustus pounced at William and began biting at his throat. The sound of the chair falling back onto the ground and William's gurgling attempts to scream were overtaken by the passing of the hour. By the time the melody finished, William was taking his final failed breaths. Augustus looked down at him with glowing yellow eyes as its body began to unnaturally expand and stretch. The last thing William saw was the flesh-colored body of a shapeshifter standing over him, who unmistakably mouthed the words 'For the Queen'.\n\n---\n\n\"Is it done?\"\n\nThe marker nodded in confirmation.\n\nThe bald woman stood up from the chair and walked over to the small mirror that was hanging on the wall. She laughed as she put her fingers to the tattoo, solid and cold as ice. \"It's perfect.\"\n\n\"You know,\" the marker began, \"The King's Tattoo commands a great power. An intimidating power. But it comes with a great cost. Two Kings must fight when they cross paths. And there will always be rule breakers and there will be those who try to get you as soon as they see your guard down.\"\n\n\"Or try to kill me immediately, like the probably fifteen or so men out there waiting for me.\"\n\n\"Twenty-seven actually, if my ears served me right.\"\n\n\"Twenty-seven? Oooh boy this tattoo really does paint a target on me.\"\n\n\"Precisely, and it is for that reason most people usually get the tattoo somewhere they can hide it. Tyrus has it on his chest, William has it on his bicep. Somewhere it can be hidden and not make you always stand out, but close enough that you can show it to assert dominance when you can.\"\n\n\"God you sure do talk a lot now.\"\n\n\"You're an interesting person to mark. You've managed to make a name for yourself even before receiving the tattoo, and on top of that you've asked for it in a place I've...never had anybody request before.\"\n\nThe woman looked back at the mirror with a smile on her face. Blue blood trails were frozen in-between her eyes, all stemming from the three-inch tattoo on her forehead. The Jotun blood had mixed with hers and frozen over, leaving a magenta crown in its place. \"It's where it belongs. Kings may hide their crowns away and only show it when they have to, but a Queen respects it. A Queen wears it so nobody forgets who she is. And when there's no more Kings left, the Queen takes over!\" She turned around and walked towards the door. \"Don't worry marker, as per the rules, no blood will be spilled inside your establishment. I cannot guarantee the same for the walls outside though.\" With a flex of her wrist, a curved blade materialized in her hand. She swung the door open and walked outside. \"Oh my look at this inaugural party. Now I'm sure some of you might have already felt that your Kings have died, and yes, that was all me. So let me give you all an ultim—\" sounds from the outside ceased as the door shut, a product of the many protection spells cast upon the building.\n\nThe marker stared at the door and the small windows aside it. The possibility of the situation ending peacefully never crossed his mind and sure enough, the bright colorful lights of magic and the blood of men who thought there was strength in numbers splashed across the glass. As the windows were gradually covered in blood, the light that poured into the room became red as well. The flashing lights stopped and the marker found himself alone in what now looked like a red-painted room. And yet, for a brief moment—surely in his imagination—he thought he could hear the woman laughing.",
"There was only one tattoo shop in town that would do it. Jordan drove me there on my day off, and charged me $50 for gas and the privilege of her company on the ride. I could have gotten one of the guys from work to do it for free, easily, but going with Jordan was low risk. \n\nWomen can’t be Kings. \n\nThe one who did my tattoo was somehow both petite AND strong. Her waist was was the size of a child’s, her breasts small and soft. The huge and burly arms she sported were an odd fit, but somehow fit HER. She had a skull and crossbones on one bicep, and a series of tick marks on the other. \n\n“Pirate, huh? What are those?” \n\n“The number of Kings I’ve killed!” I must have looked frightened because she chortled loudly-a deep laugh- and slapped me on the back. I nearly took a flying leap out of the tattoo chair, and she seemed to find this even more hilarious. \n\n“I’m just kidding!” She grinned, but did the rest of the tattoo in silence, and didn’t offer any other explanation.\n\nJordan had never been big on silence. “Do you remember that game, from when we were kids? You’d stuff your mouth with crackers or marshmallows, or pull it out at the sides, and try to say, ‘I was born on a pirate ship’.” \n\n“I remember.” \n\n“I wasn’t,” the artist, halfway through my tattoo: a simple shield with a crown on top, said mildly. As if we were old hens chit-chatting. “I was born in St.Louis.”\n\n“Oh, you were?”\n\nShe nodded, “Yes I was. But I got these for committing a crime. Digital pirating. I’m not allowed near any devices.” She looked at the tattoo gun, as if it had called her a liar. “Any that connect to the internet.”\n\nThat explained why she was here, giving dangerous ink to potentially dangerous people. We all knew how often her shop was robbed, ransacked. How often the protesters stood outside screaming profanities about human rights and the value of lives. Except hers, but they left that part out. It would make a terrible headline. \n\nI paid both of them, driver and tattoo artist. There was a moment of panic, which she read on my face as cleanly as her own thoughts. \n\n“You have twenty-four hours to take it off,” she said. \n\nThat strengthened my resolve. “I won’t”\n\nJordan handed me back the digital bitcoin. “I don’t need your money. I just want you to come with me.” \n\nThe world seemed full of threats, and I was happy to settle into her car for the long trip home. \n\nIt happened almost immediately. Three vehicles strung across the road, blocking our path, with what looked like one very large and angry man behind the wheel of each. \n\n“I thought I had more time!” We screamed, in unison, and then: “They’re not after you. They’re after me!” \n\n“What?” \n\nJordan reached over and flicked the button on my safety belt. She opened the door and shoved me, hard, out of her car. I hit pavement, rolled, and she was right behind me. We got up and ran, together, dodging through bushes and underbrush, the sound of her voice screaming instructions behind me: left, right, jump, duck! \n\nWe fell in a heap in a field of flowers, just like when we were kids. I jumped up almost immediately. She laid there longer, heart pounding so intensely that I could see it through her chest. \n\n“You’re out of shape,” I said. \n\n“It’s the cigarettes.” \n\n“It’s illegal to light them.”\n\n“Osmosis.” \n\nI rolled my eyes. “You want to tell me what that was about back there? They’re after YOU? Women can’t be Kings.”\n\nEver patient and longsuffering, she pulled up her sleeve. A shield. And a crown. \n\n“Yours is different from mine. Somebody ripped you off.” \n\n“Jerry, I’m a King. The woman who did your tattoo is an old friend. King is a TITLE, I keep trying to tell you that.” \n\n“Oh yeah?!” I jabbed angrily at the new ink on my arm. “Then what does THIS make ME? Are we both Kings? Do I have to kill you now?” \n\nShe sat up, rolled her eyes, and took out a cigarette. She chewed on the filter absent-mindedly and spoke around it. “You never paid attention in school. You don’t know what it’s supposed to look like.” She nodded at my arm. “Or what that is.” \n\n“If you’re so smart, what is it?” \n\n“Don’t be angry. Please. I needed your help.”\n\n“Jordan?”\n\n“The Queen, alright? It makes you my Queen.” ",
"It had been a long journey. My sword rasped free. Nothing so fine as his, mine was the simple craft of a backwater blacksmith. It was heavy, but the balance was flawless.\n\nThe silver and gold filigree of his sword would have dazzled me a few years earlier. But only one thing mattered. The tattoo. Each of us bore it on our uncovered right hands. \n\n\"You should have walked away, child. Lived a long life far away from here.\"\n\nHe was right. \n\nThe shield came off his shoulder and I found myself staring at the shrieking lion on its face. I had always wanted a shield like that. I gripped my sword in two sweating hands. \n\n\"Too late now. Only one may hold this throne.\"\n\nShield forward, sword rested on its edge, he advanced carefully. His sword was lighter, shorter. But that shield would be an issue.\n\nMy dad only taught me one way to deal with issues.\n\nFast step, I rotated my sword forward. The slash was by no means fast and my foe easily deflected it across his shield's face. His thrust was tediously predictable. My arms dipped and I rotated the base of my sword fast, knocking his sword high. \n\nMy next blow was faster. His sword high out alignment, I brought my weight down into a brutal chop. Shield again, but this time I pressed into his block. Planted my feet, bent and pushed. \n\nHe stumbled and I advanced. Horizontal, left to right. I did not care to hit him. Instead my blade met the edge of his shield and cracked his guard. \n\nAnother step and I thrust. His plate mail held, though I could see where the tip had sheared into the steel. He stumbled back another ten feet before he found his feet.\n\nI could sense words finding his lips and I did not care to listen. Plenty of kings had been like him. Dramatic. Grandiose. Thinking to waste my time with pleasantries. \n\nI had been born a soldier from a family of soldiers. Some prophetic birthmark did not change my nature. \n\nBefore he could start his dramatic monologue I was at him once more. A half hearted slash that his shield once again stopped. Before his riposte, I took a fast step toward his off-side. \n\nMy sword came across as he rotated his shield back toward me. This blow had no killing intent, seeking just with the very edge of my reach. Shield up. Too high. He could not see the nature of my feint. \n\nIt didn't land. Another step, I hooked his foot and gave him a sharp push. He stumbled but did not fall. Feet out of alignment. My next vicious thrust met his shield and he fell hard against the wall. \n\nAdvancing again. I gave a heavy two hit combo. Knocking aside his shield and the. His sword. My sword found the top of his breastplate.\n\nI had been fighting since I was young and he had not. Fancy sword, beautiful shield. They did not matter. All that mattered was the King's Tattoo. \n\nI expected him to beg. He didn't. I was grateful.\n\nI cleaned his blood from my sword and looked at the throne. To think, all it took to usurp a throne was a sword and a tattoo.\n\nI was tired. I turned away. To find the next King, the next throne. Perhaps this next would be the man I sought.",
"\"Hagh!\" I swung my sword hard down onto the other man's sword.\n\nBoth metal weapons clanged and emanated a loud banging sound. Sparks flew as we kept clashing them together. I was able to deftly dodge every attack thrown at me. Each sword strike that I wasn't able to block with my weapon fell onto the sand making it sink. Each time it did, my attacker slipped ever so slightly. It was only just a matter of time before he would make a mistake that would cost his life. And it was something I was eagerly looking forward to. Especially since my own life depended on it.\n\nThe crowd that had gathered around us looked on and cheered. The name most audible in the cheers was my own. It was music to my ears to hear so many people eager to see me win. To rise from nothing as a child and earn the title of king was going to be my greatest accomplishment. And to earn that name, I had to kill as many kings as I could. Only then would I be the most respected and feared king of all.\n\nSweat droplets dropped from my face. I wiped my forehead in a measure to prevent them from even being able to access my eyes.\n\nMy opponent had sweat threatening to do the same to him. But instead of doing as I did, he just ignored the possible hazard to his life. This guy was a lot more reckless than any other person I’ve faced off against. But then again he was stronger. Relying on brute force alone, he’d be able to finish me off I weren’t so calculative. I’d studied him. I knew what made him tick. I knew all his weaknesses. His strengths. Everything.\n\nHe threw another sword strike. I moved to dodge it but I slipped on the sand forgetting where I was standing in the heat of the moment. I slid and fell hitting my head on the ground. Luckily the man missed me and had his sword embedded on the ground. But this time he couldn’t remove it from its place.\n\nDitching the weapon, he lunged at me hands outstretched. He was going to choke me. But he was blinded by rage. I raised my weapon and focused a glint of sunlight forcing it to hit his eyes. He jerked back and squinted his eyes, but that just made him lose balance because of his momentum. He fell and I erected my sword. I watched as he impaled himself on my weapon.\n\nDrops of blood fell onto me dirtying my white suit. I’d been able to keep it clean this long and now it was stained with the blood of my enemy. Great.\n\n“WHOOO!!” the crowd erupted in a cheer at my victory. Several people clapped begrudgingly. Must be his followers.\n\nI ignored their lack of enthusiasm. I could deal with them later. For now, I would enjoy this moment. 8 people dead by my hand. Not too bad.\n\nr/PsyionicWrites\n",
"It was a normal day at King Ricard’s court, late spring, the sun shining down on the vast lawn of the estate. The manor house was bustling, as it was on most days when the king held court.\n\nRicard was not the only king in the area, not even the only king that these people answered to, but he was the strongest, the most powerful. He had the most soldiers under him, the most land, the largest amount of clout. Other kings bowed to him, or perhaps simply to the slash marks that he cut into his arm, one for each king he had slain, whether through a challenge or a simple crossing of his path.\n\nThe sun was sinking low in the sky, and the shadows were lengthening across the wooden floors of the throne room. Even King Ricard, normally with the resiliency of no normal man, sat hunched in his chair, the golden crown upon his head, his face seeming to melt from fatigue. He gave a ruling to a farmer from down the road, a land dispute with another farmer over grazing land.\n\nThe farmer departed the manor, accompanied by a pair of guards to enforce the king’s ruling. It was announced that the farmer was the last one seeking an audience, so the king pushed himself from the throne, standing upon the dais.\n\n“Another fine day,” he said to his attendants. “I trust dinner will be ready soon?”\n\n“Another half hour, my liege,” came the response from his head of the house, Eliot. “Beef roast, potatoes, and greens.”\n\n“Good,” Ricard said. “Enough time for some rest.”\n\n“King Ricard!” The voice boomed through the chamber, deep and powerful. Ricard turned to meet it, as did his attendants, the source of the voice standing at the head of the hall. He was silhouetted in the light of the open doors, but as he stepped forward, it was clear that the cloak he wore was black, hiding his face and body alike.\n\nThe king turned and took a step toward him. “Do you come to make a request before the king?”\n\n“No,” the man said, lowering his hood. His head was shaved, his eyes pale, staring ahead at the king before him. “I came to challenge him.”\n\nThe attendants all looked toward the king, but he ignored their gaze, stepping toward the stranger. “Do you bear the mark?”\n\nThe stranger tossed back his cloak and pulled up his sleeve. All eyes in the room focused on the tattoo, the crowned eagle with the sword in one talon and the spear in the other. The mark of the king.\n\nRicard nodded. “Very well, then.” He removed his robes, tossing them to one of the attendants, leaving himself only in trousers and boots. All eyes turned toward his back, where the same crowned eagle covered him from neck to waist, a great sign for a great king.\n\n“I warn you,” Ricard said as he drew a pair of blades and tested them out, slicing through the air. “I have slain every man who has ever crossed me as another king, and the only cuts to show for it are these marks on my arm.”\n\nThe man had removed his own cloak, folding it and placing it aside, then followed with his shirt. He had a single blade, which he held in both hands, the point touching the floor. “I have heard of your reputation.”\n\n“What land do you claim?”\n\nThe man glanced around. “There is no limit to my kingdom, no borders and no walls. I claim dominion over all the Earth, and I challenge any who refutes that claim.”\n\nRicard stepped toward him. “Then I suppose that my own kingdom is about to get bigger.”\n\nTheir swords met, and the fight began.\n\nRicard fought with speed, his twin blades flying with a flurry of blows, most of which the man dodged, while others he cast aside. He was more patient than Ricard, his face hardened in concentration, his body glistening with sweat, the eagle on his arm seeming to move with each twist of his blade.\n\nRicard pushed the man across the room, toward the entrance. Before he reached the door, however, the man feinted low, drawing Ricard’s blades toward the motion before bringing his single blade upward. Ricard felt the tip sting at his cheek, and he recoiled, spinning and bringing his blades up in a defensive stance, but the man had already moved past him, back into the throne room.\n\nThe man was ready when the next attack came, but this time, it was Ricard who pressed the attack. The man had difficulty fending off both blades at once, and Ricard felt the one in his right hand strike skin. There was a cry as the blade made an incision on the man’s side, the blood dripping to the ground.\n\nThey went back and forth, their shadows stretching with the setting sun, their sweat and blood wetting the ground beneath, their cries filling the air. All watched with bated breath as the two swordsmen traded blows, traded cuts, gave their everything into the battle.\n\nAt the end, it was Ricard who made the mistake, first losing his left blade, then baiting on a feint to the right. The man’s sword deflected off his own, and he felt the point drive home through his gut, stealing his breath from his lungs. As he collapsed to the floor, he could feel the life draining from him. The life of a great king, a life that had defended his title against dozens of those who bore the mark.\n\nThe man stood over the body, breathing heavily, his eyes turned toward Ricard’s court. None made a move, none said a word. None ever did, not when he killed another king. They all knew the laws of the land, a law he hoped to one day change.\n\nFinally, one stepped toward him, a lanky man in a silk robe. “Your name, sire?”\n\n“William.”\n\nThe man nodded and turned toward the others. “Hail to King William, vanquisher of Ricard and ruler of the land.” He turned back to William. “Your orders, my liege?”\n\n“Continue as normal,” he said. He picked up his clothes and began to put them back on. “I have other matters to attend.”\n\n“My liege, are you not going to rule?” the man asked.\n\n“One day,” William said. “Only when I am the one king.”\n\nHe turned and made his way from the manor.\n\n---\n\nIf you enjoyed this, check out more at /r/drewmontgomery",
"Inking the 'King's' happens daily at the Kingmaker's Tattoo Parlour in Parliament Hall for all who would risk everything for status and power. Whilst everyone can do it, it takes a lot of paperwork and time, ensuring that only those committed to this path will see it through to completion. After all the bureaucracy, you then have to commit to multiple inking sessions over the course of a couple months to build up the, 'King's Tattoo', which eventually becomes a giant, picture perfect Monarch Butterfly emblazoned across the hopeful's back and shoulder blades.\n\nExcitement and apprehension fought each other inside me, it was my last day getting inked and as I lay there feeling the burn as the needle danced across my back, my heartbeat thrummed against the padding underneath me as I began to think about what awaited me outside. For a brief second I nearly screamed 'stop', as nagging doubts morphed into fleeting terror but I overcame those thoughts and gritted my teeth, going through my plan to make it out of here alive for the thousandth time.\n\nNormal Citizens aren't allowed to carry arms anywhere in the World, however Kings don't have to abide by those strictures. Therefore, the most vulnerable period of time for a King is when he's newly committed and has yet to arm himself.\n\nWhen it was done, I leapt to my feet and bolted out the door without stopping to clean my back, put my top back on or thank the Artist. I could feel the wet trickle of blood on my back but it only pushed me harder and faster. Information about new 'Kings' and their days of completion was public knowledge and some of the more predatory Kings made a point out of hunting and purging the newest ones at their most vulnerable points. I'd even heard that these Kings pre\\-arranged kill zones to prevent themselves from accidentally meeting one another and triggering an unwanted duel.\n\nArriving at Parliament Hall's basement I heard three sharp pistol reports from outside the Parliament building and a faint scream. Long live the King. Dashing further down and coming to a secure section, I curled my Shoulder to show the Guard my Tattoo and ordered him to get out of my way and open the door. As he did, I charged through it and down into the maintenance and engineering areas. From there I passed another Guard and then located some workers from whom I demanded service, ordering them to break through into the old sewer system. It only took them about twenty minutes with the tools they had.\n\nAs I darted into the sewer I thanked them and said that if they ever wanted better work, to find me once I secured my power. Running carefully along the old brick passageway with stinking effluence flowing alongside me, I began to relax and smiled to myself. I had been really clever, acquiring the building plans, the city sewer and subway maps, choosing the final inking day to occur at the same time as scheduled building maintenance. The immediate fear began to pass and I started thinking about stage two, getting out of the city and into the country.\n\nIt was at that moment when I heard a metallic click that reverberated off of the old brick walls. I scraped to a halt and looked around, glancing for cover or a place to hide anywhere. \"Good run old bean\", a man wearing a Grey Pinstripe Suit stepped out of the shadows ahead of me, holding an old revolver in one hand and a lit cigarette in the other, \"any last words?\".\n\nI drooped my head in defeat, thinking about diving into the sewage or rushing him but swiftly counted them out; the dirty water didn't look deep enough to swim in and it flowed straight past the man in front of me anyway, and he had a clear ten metres to shoot me if I charged. He had picked his spot to ambush me well. I sighed and looked up at him, \"How'd you know to wait here?\". He smiled, put his cigarette in his mouth and then pulled out the pack, throwing it to me and then the lighter after it. Catching it, I lit one and took a drag, a new experience for me but I was worried I wouldn't have many more. He puffed and then answered, \"I went this way myself, back when I took the 'King's'. Not seen anyone else ever take it.\"\n\nAs I was finishing the cigarette, I tried to play things out in my head; I could toss the pack of cigarettes as a distraction and charge, or throw the lighter at him as hard as I could and charge or throw and then run back up the tunnel the way I came. Everything seemed bad. As if he could read my mind he shook his head ruefully and spoke, \"I know what you're thinking kid and I respect you for it but you and I both know how this'll end.\" He dropped his cigarette and crushed it under a glistening black, leather shoe. \"Before we get down to business, do you have a family? I'll pass a message if you want and leave them a care package.\".\n\nI must admit I was surprised. Most of the Kings who hunt New\\-bloods were savage and bloodthirsty. This man seemed extremely reasonable and relatively friendly apart from the Revolver that he still gripped in his right hand. I told him about my family and their address, along with a message I'd like him to pass along and then I tried a final time to save my own skin, \"You don't have to do this. No one is here. No one will know that two Kings met down here, we don't have to fight to the death. If you let me go I won't forget it, I'll help you in the future, lend you my support and power.\".\n\nHe grimaced and shook his head, \"Kid, you disappoint me. I'd make my own Kings if I wanted a toady.\" He raised the Revolver, \"Don't worry I'll aim straight and true. You'll be dead before you feel a thing.\". I looked up at the ceiling and closed my eyes, wondering about what awaited me in death. Then I heard a thunderous bang reverberate around the tunnel, deafening me and seeming to vibrate in my body itself. Then I realised I hadn't been hit, I hadn't been thrown off my feet and I could still breathe. I opened my eyes and dropped my gaze to the man in front of me, hoping against hope that he had decided to let me live after all and had fired the gun as a warning to never cross him. I was ready to swear undying fealty when I saw him on the floor, convulsing as blood spurted out of his chest and flooded out of his mouth as he choked and shuddered.\n\nLooking beyond him I could see the smoking twin barrels of a shotgun, and then heard the metallic snap as the breach opened and the clink of shells dropping to the floor. Then a rasp of new shells going into the gun and an equally sudden snap as the breach slammed shut again.\n\nOut of the shadows strolled a young and short, striking woman with long and flowing jet black hair, bright red lipstick and cute nerdy glasses. She stood elevated in high heels and wearing a glittering black dress, holding her shotgun nonchalantly over one shoulder. Behind her came two bodyguards, large, hulking men that dwarfed her and made her look even smaller. She crouched down next to the spluttering King on the floor and grinned, \"So this is where you hide on hunting days.\", the smile left her eyes, \"I finally got you, you old bastard.\" She stood up, kicked him in the head as hard as she could and then snapped an order to her men, \"Throw him in the sewage, I want him to choke on it before he dies!\". He tried to speak through the thick blood that lined his throat and mouth but before he could utter a word he was unceremoniously tossed into the thick excrement that oozed instead of flowed.\n\nI was gripped in terror. I had seen her on the news before. She was famous, infamous I corrected myself, for brutally torturing and murdering any King she came across. She was the nightmare for New\\-bloods, one of the primary reasons against ever taking the 'King's' and she was here! Maybe I was hoping she hadn't noticed me, however stupid that was, maybe I was just too terrified to move but I didn't run. Not until she turned her gaze on me and said, \"Oh honey, now I've got time for you!\". Those words acted like a catalyst, I spun and sprinted down the tunnel, slipping and stumbling a couple times in my haste. I glanced back once or twice and could see the two hulking forms of her Guards gaining on me, taser pistols in their hands.\n\nI made it back to Parliamentary Hall and burst into the lower levels, past the workers who had helped make a breach for me before I collapsed, shuddering and jerking in agony as my muscles all spasmed and contracted. I blacked out for a few seconds and when I came to, I found myself over the shoulder of one of her guards as he stepped out into the sewer tunnel. Looking back I could see the workers who had helped me, they were shaking their heads and I could hear them talking, \"She's got another one.\" \"Nasty way to go.\" \"Thought he'd actually make it.\" and I screamed out a them to help me but they just looked on as I was carried away.\n\nThey carried me kicking and screaming back to the puddle of drying blood where I stopped struggling and grew silent when I saw her staring at me with the eager fascination of a cat with a mouse, pushing her glasses up her nose with a thin finger. They hoisted me down and held me in front of her, locked in their iron grips. She came up to me, inspected me and the tattoo on my back and then gave me a long wet kiss.\n\nThen she smiled and raked her nails across my face drawing blood, \"I am going to enjoy this.\".",
"In the beginning, everyone was getting \"The King's Tattoo\". Tattoo parlors were giving them out for free and everyone was excited to be \"royalty\", but then the rules came. Anyone who had the tattoo must serve their society as a figurehead and attend important meetings, make tough decisions for the community they reigned over, and even execute people if they saw fit. What was so bad? Oh, that's easy. The last rule became known roughly a week after the tattoo was released: any king that saw another must fight to the death. If both refused to fight, then both were killed. If one refused to fight, then the other would have to successfully kill them within an hour to live. It was utter chaos. People were rioting and the bodies quickly piled up.\n\nNow, six months later, the entire planet has become divided into different territories by ten-foot walls. Pretty soon, people began giving nicknames to the different types of kings there were and some even seemed to give up technology altogether. There were the Pirate Kings, never leaving the waters they sailed; the Treetop Kings that lived in the canopies of wild forests; the Fire Kings, who, for some reason, decided to live around active volcanoes; the Wild Kings that lived on open fields; the Heavenly Kings that lived on top of mountains; and the High Kings that reigned over the major cities. There were smaller kings that were viewed as \"lesser kings\" because they were over the small towns and smaller cities of the world. Most of the time they were either the mayor or the sheriff and were simply elected by the people. Every king knew their place and what to do to make their territory run smoothly, but not everyone would agree with their methods or decisions. In those cases, either the king was challenged by another that would get the tattoo or they were assassinated in secret and the assassin would be given the tattoo as a prize. All of it is pretty brutal.\n\nMe? I live in a small town with no king. We have all agreed to this because we do not trust people, especially outsiders. With a population of only about two hundred people, it was quite simple to call a town meeting and come to an agreement. We built our wall to keep people out and we cut ties with the outside world. Thankfully, we have plenty of resources within our wall and everyone has a job to do. Most importantly, we have the plumbing and electricity taken care of by our amazing handymen and women. We would be dead without them.\n\nSure, every now and then a straggler will come to our town and ask for entrance so that they may rest, but we know the rules of the tattoo. If a king were to enter town and make themselves known as the king, then we would have to listen to them. Luckily for us, we also have a military presence in our town, so it's quite easy to keep people out. Still, it's sometimes hard to tell who truly just wants a drink and who doesn't.\n\n\"Everyone listen up!!\" a strange man standing in the street called out. \"I see that this town has no king. Well, not anymore!!\"\n\nThis is why we don't like outsiders...\n\n\"If anyone wishes to challenge me, then speak up! Otherwise, bow down before your king.\"\n\nI guess I should go talk to this guy and see what's up. \"Hey mister, what's all the yelling for?\"\n\n\"I'm your new king. Kneel!!\"\n\n\"Yeah, we don't have any kings around here. We don't like them.\"\n\n\"Well that's too bad, because this tattoo on my chest shows that I'm a king and you all know the rules.\"\n\n\"Hmm...yeah, I guess you're right. Come on, I'll show you around the town, my liege. Care for a drink first?\"\n\n\"That's much better. Yes, I would love a drink. I only drink scotch.\"\n\n\"No problem.\"\n\nAs we enter the local pub, I order two scotches: one for me and one for our new king. The barman pours us our drinks and hands them to me. As I hand our new king his drink, I figure a toast is in order.\n\n\"To our new king!\" I call out and the patrons repeat after me. After finishing our drinks, I pull the collar of my shirt down to reveal my king tattoo. At this time, I notice that the man's eyes have begun to bulge and he seems to be having trouble breathing. By the time he hits the floor, he's dead. I kneel down beside him and check his pulse, \"Well...we do have one king.\"",
"\"Are you going to take the King?\" Carris took a long swig of out of his water skin and tossed it to Faraday.\n\n\"That's what we've trained for.\" Faraday took a gulp of his own and handed it back.\n\n\"Yeah, we talked about it, but that's a lot different than doing it.\"\n\n\"Well, what else are we going to do? I'm not going to spend the rest of my life in the Downs. Not when I can have something better.\" Faraday had been on the streets of the Downs since before he could remember. Born to a father he never knew and a mother who passed before he hit his fifth turning, he had grown accustomed to making his own decisions. And this was one decision that he had made a long time ago. \"I've been training for the last ten years, I'm ready.\"\n\n\"Most of the other folks who take the King come from money Faraday. They've got sworn Knights. They got Watchers to help 'em avoid other kings they don't want to mess with.\" Taking the king was suicide if you don't have a plan to survive.\n\n\"Everyone's always got more than us Carris. Only way to change it is to get the Mark.\"\n\nCarris fell quiet at this, and focused his attention on a rock he was nudging about with his foot. \"They may have more than us Faraday, but we still got our lives.\" He kicked the rock away. \"We still go each other.\"\n\n\"It's not enough Carris. It never has been.\" He gestures to the dilapidated buildings looming over the fetid alley they now stood in. \"I'm not going to die in the Downs.\"\n\n\"Yeah, but you might die tomorrow.\"\n\nFaraday responded by lifting up his steel sword and swiping it around the air before him. The weapon was his prize possession, the one thing of quality he owned fair and square. \"I might make it past tomorrow. I've learned a thing or two.\"\n\nCarris watched his efforts, an inkling of hope stirring. Faraday was one of the best brawlers in the Downs. He'd even been hired on as a guardsmen a few times by the local merchants. He wasn't weak, it was just that he wasn't strong either. Not compared to most folks who took the King.\n\n\"I'm not taking the Mark Faraday.\" He had known a long time, but it was the first time he'd said it out loud. The first time he had admitted that their mutual childhood dream of being the two greatest kings in Loyalia was dead.\n\nFaraday merely shrugged, \"I know Carris.\" He laid a hand on his friend's shoulder and waited for Carris to look him in the eye, \"It's the right choice for you. You aren't angry enough.\" Faraday offers him a smile, \"Besides, that means we can still be friends once I'm Marked.\"\n\nThe two boys had talked at great length about how they would carve up Loyalia so they would never be forced into battle together. Sketching out maps in the mud with sticks, each taking turns selecting choice morsels that would serve as their royal domain.\n\n\"I guess that means all of Loyalia is mine then.\" Faraday breaks into a cackle, \"Fool! To give me half a realm for a pence.\"\n\nCarris tackled Faraday, trying to pin him. Wrestling amidst the muck was a favorite pass time, though Carris hadn't managed to get the better of Faraday in a long while. Sure enough, Faraday came out on top, Carris' shoulders pressed firmly into the sludge. \"Let me up Faraday.\"\n\n\"Only if you swear loyalty.\"\n\n\"I can't do that until you're a king. You know that. Besides, why would you want someone like me as a retainer?\"\n\nFaraday stared at him for a moment. \"You'll swear when I take the king?\"\n\n\"I will.\" A relieved grin passed over Faraday's face once Carris said the words. \"But I don't know why you want me.\"\n\n\"Because Carris, every king needs an advisor.\"\n\n\"You might want to consider someone who makes better decisions than swearing to a poor king from the Downs.\" And who wasn't half painted with foul smelling muck.\n\nFaraday stood up and offered his hand to Carris. \"It's the best advice I can afford.\"\n\n\"When are you getting Marked?\"\n\n\"Tomorrow.\"\n\n\"Are you scared?\" Carris asked.\n\n\"No.\"\n\n**PART 2**\n\nThe King's Parlor.\n\nHome of the Kingmakers, the guild responsible for crafting Marks. No bloodshed was permitted within the Parlor, an accommodation to permit the Kingmakers to continue their work. Of course, that did not stop some kings from coronation camping \\-\\- staking out the surrounding streets \\-\\- looking for an easy Mark to take down. A victory meant the treasure and vassals of the losing king, a reward often worth the risk of establishing a base of operations so close to so many other kings.\n\nFaraday carefully navigated his way through the streets surrounding the King's Parlor, mapping out the various blockades, guard posts and viewing stands held by soon to be rival kings. He would not be challenged so long as he did not bear the Mark, but once it was upon him, any glance at the Mark of another king would trigger the magic requiring him to fight. A Duelbond could only be resolved by the expiration of one of the kings. Any attempt to retreat or otherwise evade the battle would cause him to weaken and ultimately expire.\n\nA single look and his life could be over.\n\nMany a campfire story revolved around the mishaps and misfortunes of kings who entered a Duelbond unwittingly. A mistaken glance in a mirror. A haphazard survey of a crowd. The Duelbond did not discriminate. It did not attempt to understand the intent. It merely formed and obligated.\n\nThis was the life Faraday was choosing. A life where he would be granted command and authority far exceeding his birthright, but be always at risk. Rival kings would hunt him even if he had no treasure and spoils, purely for the power obtaining a rival's Mark would bring him.\n\nAnd he had nothing to defend himself with save a friendship and a steel sword.\n\nIt was suicide.\n\nBut these were Faraday's streets. He had spent every day running them since he was orphaned. He owned them, regardless of the claims these so\\-called kings laid to them. The King's Quarter was a deathtrap for kings who did not prepare. Some stationed regiments of soldiers around the Parlor when they were Marked. Others invested in armored conveyances.\n\nFaraday patted the pocket of his trousers. He had made his own plans.\n\nAfter a final survey, he walked up the steps of the King's Parlor and pushed his way through the heavy wooden doors. The interior was oddly quiet, the sounds of the parlor being muffled by the rich tapestries adorning the wood panel walls. Each of the rugs showed a great king engaged in one kingly matter or another. A great many featured a king disposing of a rival as the defeated king's vassals looked on with dismay.\n\nStanding just inside the entry way behind an enormous desk was a wizened man leaning over a large tome. \"Here to take the king?\" His voice was raspy and dragged its way through the syllables.\n\nFaraday approached the desk, \"Yes.\"\n\n\"Name?\"\n\n\"Faraday.\"\n\n\"Family name?\" He asked.\n\n\"None,\" Faraday replied.\n\nThe man leaned forward, his spectacles dropping low on his nose, \"I will need an additional attribution. Where are you from?\"\n\n\"Loyalia,\" Faraday said.\n\n\"We are all from Loyalia.\"\n\n\"The Downs.\"\n\n\"Very well, Faraday of Downs.\" The man's arm scribbled briefly and then he raised a thumb and jerked it behind him. \"Parlor six.\"\n\nHe made his way along the hallway to a door with a large six engraved into it. His heart thudded in his chest as he raised his hand to rap it on the door three times.\"\n\n\"Enter.\"\n\nHe did. The interior was small and dominated by a table with a variety of straps on it. To the side sat a reedy man with a generous goatee. His pale eyes took Faraday in as he walked into the room.\n\n\"Do you propose to take the King's Mark?\"\n\n\"I do.\"\n\n\"Very well, wash your face in the basin to the side and lay upon the table.\" The man began a variety of preparations as Faraday went about his tasks. Once he was laying on the table, the man turned back to him.\n\n\"I will be strapping you down and placing your head into a vise. It is very important you do not move even the slightest bit while the Mark is being added or the magic will not take. Do you understand?\"\n\nFaraday nodded.\n\n\"This will be painful, but not overmuch.\" The man then fell silent as he began strapping Faraday down. Once that was complete, he slowly tightened the vise around Faraday's head until it pressed uncomfortably against his temples.\n\n\"Final chance. Do you take the King?\" The Kingmaker asked.\n\n\"I do.\" Faraday wanted to nod, but found he could not. He let his words stand on their own.\n\nThe needle jabbed into his forehead.\n\n\\-\\-\\-\\-\n\n**HIT THE CHARACTER COUNT LIMIT,** [**PART 3**](https://www.reddit.com/r/PerilousPlatypus/comments/8fwswy/story_continuation_the_kings_mark_part_3/) **UP ON MY SUBREDDIT.**\n\n**Platypus out.**\n\n**Want more peril?** r/PerilousPlatypus"
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[WP] One day it begins snowing all over the world simultaneously, and doesnt stop. This is the next ice age.
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"I'm in Hawa'ii which is nice but.. wtf.. it's snowing..\n\nIt happened slowly. For an entire week the sky was cloudy. Turning a deeper shade of grey each passing day. On the 7th day is when the drizzle of snow started to fall. The next day is when the drizzle turned into thick snowflakes.\n\nIt's been a month of nonstop snow. Civilization is recognizable... The rich and top performers found a way to escape to Mars while the rest have been left to fend for themselves. \n\nTheres no more vegetation, food is scarce. Murder has become the norm. The kind and weak hearted committed suicide because they were unable to cope with this harsh reality.\n\nAs I write this, I'm in the last safe haven in Hawa'ii. No longer an island as the ocean has hardened and bridged the lands. We were able to hunt all the boars, fish, crustations and sea life we could get and rationed it. \n\nSadly word spread and now an army of savages are breaking down the gated community entrance....\n\nWe all know humanity is doomed and we're fighting a hopeless battle. It only took 5 years for all that we knew to come to an end. ",
"“Have you ever felt real fatigue?” Marcus asks his son. \n\nThe boy looks up and replies: “When we were outside that day at the park after working on your car.. I couldn’t stay awake.”\n\n“Remember that feeling and think of it times 1000”. Marcus looks the boy in the eye and then off to the window as it snows. He starts his monologue with a sincerity and sadness that concerns Steven. \n\n\n‘ Humanity is tired. We fight and argue over nothing for years. Each generation loses itself and each piece lost makes us that much worse so we decided no more. Sometimes we have to grab the wheel and swerve to prevent a car crash but this time our car is the future. Families were tired of losing daughters and sons, parents were tired of arguing with neighbors. The scientists spent years researching how we started and decided that we’re going to finish a different way. The weather was the last thing we had to change. We’re lucky because of my work but everyone is already underground preparing for the longest sleep humanity will ever take. We took all the bombs and nukes and made them snow machines. We’re going to erase the mistakes and start fresh. We’re doing it because we’re tired. Tired just like that day you were and this is how people as a group are going to take a nap. When our visitors from Xerclon came to Earth was when we realized we don’t have to be this way. They couldn’t stand us and left almost immediately. Earth deserves to be a permanent member of the Universal Alliance but we have to make peace within ourselves first. When the snow melts the buildings will fade and we’ll rebuild with natural materials that will heal our planets scar tissues. We’ll have the foundation for our central government. Think of it like this. We’re all going to be a family but we have to live in one big house first. ‘\n\nThe both of them look to the window and Steven asks his father. “How many snowflakes will it take to fix this dad?”\n\n“A gazillion but it takes time. Let’s go get your mom and have some lunch. Then we can come back and watch the show.”"
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[WP] you are an author who has a pen that gives you the ability to go into your stories and live in them. You finish a piece and walk into it, but you soon realize you cannot escape. Someone else has your pen now.
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"_This writing prompt is perfect for me, since I have a brand new pen. I can totally imagine it having secret author powers. Hope you like my story!_\n\n~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~\n\nIt was 10:00 PM on the weekend. Everybody's day was finally coming to a close. /u/MisfitShadowGirl typed the last few letters of her prompt on /r/WritingPrompts with final, satisfied keystrokes.\n\nShe read it aloud...\n\n\"You are an author who has a pen that gives you the ability to go into your stories and live in them. You finish a piece and walk into it, but you soon realize you cannot escape. Someone else has your pen now.\"\n\nGenius.\n\nEager to see what responses it elicits, she refreshed the page. Nothing yet, but it's only a matter of time.\n\nWith her mind occupied, she rested with her elbows on the table and picked up a beautiful golden ornate pen that was laying on her desk. The pen didn't work, it was just a good luck charm. She had found at the bottom of an old box in Grandma's storage room a couple of summers ago. Her grandma said she was allowed to keep it, and she's had it ever since.\n\n_Refresh._\n\nFirst minutes passed, then hours. Soon enough it was past midnight. But she couldn't sleep yet. She needed to see some stories first.\n\n_Refresh._\n\n_Refresh._\n\nShe realized she was beginning to doze off. Luckily she caught herself in time. She made herself a cup of coffee and returned to her desk, trying her hardest to stay awake.\n\n_Refresh._\n\nToo many hours now. The first reply will come soon, she thought, as she began habitually tapping her pen against the side of her head.\n\n_Refresh._\n\nThe night was almost over, but she didn't care. This was the prompt that would reach the front page, she knew it deep down.\n\n_Refresh._\n\n_Refresh._\n\n_Refresh..._\n\nHer eyes opened suddenly, as if she had just woken up from a dream.\n\nShe looked around. She was still in her room, still sitting on her desk. Her laptop was still on and the Reddit page was still open in her browser. But something felt different. There was an inexplicable sense of something just not being right.\n\nShe looked around again, more carefully this time. The first thing she noticed was that her pen was gone.\n\nDamn. She got up and peeked in all the places things normally tend to disappear to—under the table, hiding under the stray papers on her desk, tangled up in a blanket somehow—but it was nowhere to be seen. She needed this pen, just the sight of it gave her a burst of writing inspiration. She sat down with a sharp, agitated sigh.\n\nShe didn't know how much time had passed, and she was too frustrated to check. First she wanted to see if anybody had replied to her thread yet.\n\n_Refresh._\n\nAnd sure enough, the orange envelope! Somebody did it! The first story was here!\n\nShe clicked the alert icon and read the reply. It was by /u/EMILY_WAS_HERE. There was a small comment in italics at the beginning, with the author explaining that this prompt was a perfect fit, as they had recently received a brand new pen. Wait a minute...\n\nAs she read, she realized, in horror, that the story was narrating everything that had just happened to her over the last few hours, ever since she submitted the writing prompt. What's more, she had a hunch that the pen described by the author was, in fact, hers.\n\nSuddenly, it dawned on her. She had somehow teleported into the world described by her own writing prompt. With her pen missing, and the Reddit story describing her exact situation, she knew what to do next.\n\nShe sat down on her bed and waited. Waited, for the moment /u/EMILY_WAS_HERE haphazardly entered _her_ own story. The story /u/MisfitShadowGirl was now a character of. \n\n_To be continued..._"
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[WP] You're driving on a country rode at night when an animal darts in front of your car. You slam on your brakes, but it's too late. After the collision you step out to take a closer look at the creature. It's not a deer. It's ... you're not sure what it is, but you think it might be an alien.
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"The last thing David Waters said aloud was ‘I’ll be back in ten,’ when he went out to buy a pack of smokes. He uses a clunky text-to-speak machine now that wraps around his wheelchair and his daughter doesn’t remember what his real voice sounds like anymore. The doctors will tell you that he hit a deer while he was driving at eighty on a country road, but David’s interpretation of that night’s events kept on changing. Sometimes, he would talk about a bright light, but he couldn’t settle on whether it was the at the scene of the accident or when he woke up in the emergency room. David always said that the walls were white when he woke up and the room was empty except for his bed, but everyone assured him that the hospital was more of a pale blue and he was one of at least seven other people on the ward that night. \n\nHe asked sometimes about the tall pale doctor that wore a funny looking lab coat, David said he was the ugliest sonofabitch he ever saw. He said he wondered how the man even got a job without being able to see, and that he ought to sue the hospital for malpractice because of the god awful job they’d done putting in his pacemaker. But David Waters didn’t have a pacemaker, that’s what they told him at the hospital. \n\nAfter the accident, David lost control of just about every part of his body save for his left hand and a few muscles in his face that allowed for him to use the text-to-speak machine. His left hand withered away over the years with the rest of his body, he often refused to attend physiotherapy and had for the most part given up on life altogether. He lost his house about three years on from the accident when his wife couldn’t cope anymore. She took his daughter and promised to visit on weekends, but it’s more of a three monthly ordeal now that lasts about ten minutes. \n\nOccasionally, David would ask if the man he hit was okay. That’s when he’d be told that it was a deer, not a man and that no - it had unfortunately died on impact. He wondered if there were such a thing as a hairless deer but nobody understood what he meant when he asked. When the library on wheels came around, David would stock up on any and all books regarding deer or horses hoping to come across something that matched up with what he had seen on the night of the accident. While he learnt a lot about deer and other hoofed animals, he was no closer to understanding exactly which sort of deer it was that he had killed.\n\nWhen the library on wheels lost its funding, the care home received a donation of tablet computers. David had always been intimidated by the buttons and complexities of a computer, but he was pleased to hear that this one would respond to the sound of his machine voice.\n\nThe first thing he searched up on the internet was ‘deer with no eyes, no fur, two legs’.\n"
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[WP] A person goes on a road trip. At every stop unbeknownst to them one seemingly innocuous thing they do changes the entire course history for that place.
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"She smiled.\n\nLeaving the truck behind, she skipped towards the fields past the dusty lot. A laugh bubbled from between her lips as she twirled, trailing her hands through the grasses.\n\nStanding with one hand on the truck door, Fate smiled, too. And then she slid forward.\n\nThe woman's eyes sparkled, full of life and energy. The buildings of the nearest town were dim shapes on the horizon, quiet intruders on her happy tableau. She was alone with the wind, and the sun, and she was happy.\n\nShe had something, she realized. A pack of seeds, pale white paper neatly folded around the brown lumps that had promised color and new life. She couldn't say why she'd bought them in the first place - it had just seemed right, somehow.\n\nFate's hand slipped over hers as she dug deep, pulling the packet free. The woman's hands flew out as she spun again, the seeds flying out into the air.\n\nIt would take time. Nothing in life came free or easy, and a seed was just a seed. It would begin with just a single bud, one tiny blossom of brilliant color to shade red alongside the green grass. But blossoms spread, and seeds grow.\n\nIn time, they would cover the entire hillside. In time, others would flock to her dusty, lonely field, hands clasped with loved ones and loved ones-to-be. She had left her mark on it, and it would leave its mark on everyone who saw it.\n\nFate slid her arm through the woman's as the two turned back to the truck.\n\n---\n\nThe ridge was quiet, but for the wind that howled over its peaks and crags. The trees swayed, creaking ominously, but she only smiled. The fire was warm in front of her, sheltered from the wind and banked low. Her eyes glistened in the glow of it, peaceful and happy with a jacket tight about her. Her truck waited, just down the hill.\n\nFate sat beside the woman, her eyes fixated on the human. She'd never met someone like this - so like her. The sight of a human so driven by the same winds as her own inhuman self was enough to keep her right where she was. They'd traveled half the world together, the woman none the wiser.\n\nWith miles yet to go.\n\nThe sun was bright the next morning as the woman climbed into her truck, turning the engine over after a few cranks. Kicking it into gear, she hit the accelerator.\n\nFate stared backtowards their lonely little campsire, her eyes fixed on the rocky wind-break the two of them had built\n\nShe remembered the weight of the stones in their hand - the glimmer of the setting sun in the gaps they left in their wall. The feel of dirt on their fingers as the woman scooped dirt over the embers.\n\nAnd Fate remembered how she'd placed a hand on the woman's shoulder, drawing her away before she could throw the final handful on.\n\nIt took time. Things rarely happened quickly. But the heat lasted, contained under its earthen blanket, and the embers burned on. \n\nAn hour later the first flames emerged from the wind-break, sparks teased onwards by the gusts.\n\nThat night, the ridge was afire.\n\nIt devastated the landscape for miles, when all was said and done, leaving only cinders in its wake. Only a blackened, burned mess, devoid of life.\n\nSo they said. But the seeds were there, waiting for just that chance, and they seized it. It would be decades before that quiet, secluded mountain flourished again, but it would - and it would be all the stronger for it, in the end.\n\nShe knew none of it, as her tires pounded onwards.\n\n---\n\nFate waited.\n\nShe stood, hands clenched in front of her.\n\nThis was as it had to be.\n\nShe knew it - she'd been down this road a thousand times, seen a million faces vanish into the mist.\n\nEven telling herself that, the pain lingered, a burning, aching hurt that one such as her was never meant to feel.\n\nTh woman's voice drifted from the twisted, shattered wreckage of her truck. It was thin and feeble, shot through with terror and agony.\n\nFate waited, closing her eyes.\n\nThis was as it had to be. She could not change that.\n\nTheir crash would destroy the community they were in. It would be years recovering from from the pain of its loss, from the sacrifice that her woman had made here today. The bustling, chaotic intersection would be marked for years by white crosses, decorated with flowers and ribbons and flags.\n\nEverything would change. The woman's name would pass from lips to lips, carried forever in story and lecture and lesson. It would save more lives than the woman herself ever could, in the end.\n\nStanding there, hearing the woman gasping for breath, Fate didn't care.\n\nShe slipped through the wreckage, passing through twisted metal and broken glass as though it were nothing more than the tall grass they'd danced in, years before.\n\nHer hand slipped around the woman's, tightening ever so slightly.\n\nThe woman's eyes opened, fixing on hers for the first time. Fate smiled.\n\nIt was impossible, something that shouldn't have ever happened. She was a force of nature, not some human's traveling companion.\n\nBut the woman stared at her, holding Fate's hand tight, until the last of her light drifted away.\n\nFate waited there, her hand on her friend's, until the black-hooded figure finally stepped towards the broken vehicle.\n\nAnd then she let go, sliding away, and watched the spectral figure rise.\n\nThe woman smiled at her, as she faded into the black - and waved.\n\nFate turned, feeling the wind on her back as she walked away from the remains of the truck. And then she stopped.\n\nA little boy stood on the sidewalk, staring even as his mother gaped. His eyes flicked up.\n\nFor a single second, one solitary heartbeat, his eyes met Fate's. And then his mother dragged him away, murmuring horrified reassurances.\n\nFate lingered a moment longer, unsure. \n\nFrom the mouths of children, they said. And despite herself, she found that the ache, that perfect, crystalline lonliness, hadn't faded.\n\nThe boy kicked a stone, muttering darkly to himself.\n\nFate smiled. She could see it already - the way the stone scared a bird, which flew away. A dog would chase it, barking happily - the sound which finally let its family track it down, bringing it home safely.\n\nHer work continued.\n\nStill smiling faintly, Fate slid in behind the pair, one hand draped down aross the boy's shoulder.\n\n(/r/inorai, critique always welcome!)\n"
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[WP] Give this thing a story
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"I was waiting my turn to receive the serum. It would deform me for one hour so Matt could take samples and try to make a permanent solution. As I wait In line I watch people coming out and running away. I’m next. I start to feel worried and then the two men pull me in the tube. The gas is rising and rising. It pours into my lungs and my skin in boiling. Once the tube opens up I feel strong and fast. As I run to the lab they injected me full of needles and pulled the gas out. \n\nAs the gas left my body I weakened and fell. The deformities has stayed with me and all I want is my favorite food from my dad.\n\n“Father I crave cheddar.",
"**Item #:** SCP-9384\n\n**Object Class:** Keter\n\n**Special Containment Procedures**\n\nAll instances of SCP-9384 are to be secured in 30 cm X 30 cm x 30 cm steel cubes, constructed of 1 cm thick stainless steel, welded on all seams. SCP-9384 instances are kept in Room 132 in Sector 4 of Site 76. Two armed guards are to be posted at the door, rotated in 3 daily shifts. All guards are to have the following qualifications: \n\n1) No living immediate biological or adopted family\n\n2) No acquaintance with any children.\n\n3) No desire to have children\n\n4) No known spouse or significant other\n\nDue to the certainty of containment breach involved with exposing SCP-9384 to any living human, research involving exposure has been suspended by assigned level 4 staff.\n\n**Description:**\nSCP-9384 instances are hand made sulptures of well known fictional children's characters, such as ████████████, as shown on SCP-9384-12. These sculptures are on wooden bases, with a sentence burned into them, declaring to an immediate relative that the sculpture \"crave\"s a food item. For example, SCP-9384-12 features the words, \"Father... I crave cheddar.\" \n\nSCP-9384's anomalous properties become most apparent when a human with immediate living relatives comes into physical contact with it. First, the subject, designated herein as SCP-9384-A, reports feelings of extreme hunger, in spite of either having just been feed, or having been administered heavy appetite suppressants.\n\nThis hunger is coupled with an extreme desire to visit a blood relative, designated SCP-9384-B. No matter how much SCP-9384-A resists, they will succumb to this urge within 3-7 days, and proceed towards the location of SCP-9384-B using the fastest means available to them.\n\nThe above effects can be negated with administration of Class A amnestics. SCP-9384-A, if amnesticized, does not perform actions described below, as such Class A amnestics are deigned a suitable countermeasure to identified instances of SCP-9384-A.\n\nUpon encountering SCP-9384-B, SCP-9384-A will proceed to ███████████ SCP-9384-B. Observers of this act will be paralyzed and unable to stop SCP-9384-A. It has been reported that SCP-9384-A does not have the expanded ████████████████ to accommodate ██████████ of SCP-9384-B, resulting in the [DATA EXPUNGED] of SCP-9384-A's torso. This will not impede SCP-9384-A's ███████████████ of SCP-9384-B. During this process, SCP-9384-B will be transmuted into whatever food item is described on the pedestal. \n\nAfter complete transmutation, any witnesses present will feel compelled to [Data Expunged] SCP-9384-B. This food has been found to have amnestic properties, wiping all memory of SCP-9384-A and SCP-9384-B from those affected. After [Data Expunged], witnesses fall asleep and cannot be roused for 2 to 4 hours.\n\nDuring this time, SCP-9384-A will expire, and its remains will transmute into another instance of SCP-9384. This instance will feature a different character, relative, and food. Remains of SCP-9384-B will evaporate during this time, leaving no trace.\n\nIt has been determined that SCP-9384 has a secondary effect on those who do not have living adopted or blood relatives which, it is presumed through memetic means, compels them to offer the sculpture as a gift to a child to whom they have an emotional attachment. This will result in the child repeating the cycle.\n\nIt has additionally been found that persons whom were adopted prior to puberty may instead prey on their adopted family members, rather than surviving blood relatives.\n\n**Discovery:**\nSCP-9384 was discovered when authorities responded to missing persons reports that led them to the home of the ████████, a large family in █████ county with at least ██ members. Officers present encountered at least ██ instances of SCP-9384, and proceeded to bring these instances to members of fellow officers families as gifts.\n\nThe failure of these officers, and others within the department to show up for work thereafter prompted Agent ███████, a member of MTF Iota 10 (\"Damn Feds\") embedded within the county sheriff's office, to investigate. Agent ███████ was recovered by members of MTF Eta-10 (\"See No Evil\"), after calling them in a half panicked tone in his voice. Upon recovery, he had a note in his handwriting saying \"Do not look at the statues.\", and had apparently self administered class B amnestics.",
"The pain was immense. It always was, and always would be. His malformed mockery of a body was always in constant agony, which wasn't helped by his hunger. The craving, the *need* for that coveted substance. The sharp, blocky substance that made the pain of existence just a bit easier, a bit more bearable. He called out for it, the cheddar. He needed it. His cries went unanswered. He slowly wasted away, turning into a statue. By some divine prank, an ironic twist to pour salt into the gaping wound of his death, his desire was printed below him on the pedestal that held him.\n\n\"Father... I crave cheddar.\"\n\n*If you submit more prompts based around images, please tag them [IP].* "
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[WP] You have the power to freeze time and use it to play pranks around your school/college/workplace
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"I wiped a bead of sweat from my forehead. \"Alright...\" I mumbled, pushing Jarrod's hand forward by a couple inches. A fork-full of pasta would smear against his face once time started moving again. Honestly, half the humor came from setting up the pranks rather than seeing them unfold.\n\n\"Okay.\" I straightened out my back, looking at the small office table that sat a few fellow co-workers, admiring my work. Jarrod was a bit of a tool, so it was nice knocking him down a peg once in a while. I only started a few weeks ago, but even I could tell he was always on people's nerves.\n\nThe shimmering blue outline of where I sat when I froze time drew my eye. I could start up time again whenever I wanted, but the helpful afterimage that was left had always proven very helpful. Otherwise, if I was off by a bit, people may notice. Not that they would believe I could freeze time. But, you know, they'd expect something was up. Whatever the case, I never knew why the outline existed, it just always happened when I used my powers.\n\nI noticed a year ago, in my last year of high school, that I could do this. It was during a soccer match that everything froze after a painful kick to my head. It only lasted a few seconds, at least to me, but it was incredibly exhausting. I was able to activate it at will after experimenting with my gift, but it really drained me. Even now, just after maybe half a minute of frozen time, and one pushed fork, I was breathing heavy and sweat was forming on my brow. I was getting better, but I had to keep practicing.\n\nProud of myself, I walked back to my seat. I scooted my chair in, a shimmering blue surrounding me as I attempted to align my limbs with the glowing hue. \"Uh... what?\" I muttered, my head moving forward, my eyes squinting. Through the window, to a building across the street, I saw another shimmer. Another blue glow.\n\nWith a *creak* I pushed my chair back, moving over to the window of the lunchroom. It looked like a humanoid shape, but the window was too small to make out anything else. I looked down, seeing what sort of building it was. Just an apartment complex. Certainly not mine. Even if it was, I never saw the blue glow except when I activated my power.\n\n\"What the hell?\" I wiped the rolling sweat from my cheek. My eyes were getting misty, heat rising to my head. I tried to keep looking, examining, but I would pass out if I kept going. I had... to... I had to stop. Quit. Sit. Just sit. Just sit.\n\nIn seconds, I sloppily put my chair and body back to match my outline. With a blink and a push that rose from my core to the top of my head, noise around me began again. Charlie and Lucy talking about the new Marvel blockbuster as Jarrod gave a guttural yelp.\n\n\"Geez! Guys, look what you made me do!\" Jarrod wiped the sauce from his face with a napkin. Charlie and Lucy abruptly stopping to look on in confusion.\n\n\"Oh, sorry, was our talking making it difficult to funnel pasta in your mouth?\" Lucy rolled her eyes.\n\n\"Maybe if you just weren't so loud.\" Jarrod looked across to the table to me, my own eyes off somewhere else. \"Yo, newbie, you should lay off the spice. You're sweating like a pig!\" He chuckled.\n\n\"Fuck off, Jarrod,\" I said, getting up from my chair and out of the lunchroom. They called out to me, but I kept walking. Down the stairs, to the lobby, and out the door. I stopped at a crosswalk, looking to the apartment complex that towered over the block. \n\nI had to know."
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[wp] You are an assassin. You have thousands of murders under your belt. Your next contract, however, you are not allowed to directly murder. Rather, you must make them lose the will to live by any means necessary
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"I have lost count of how many people I have killed. 4 maybe 5 thousand? No it feels like less but was probably more. You get numb to the feeling of it after awhile. At first it started out as a way to survive. You know kill or be killed. But then it started to turn into something more, something fulfilling. I remember the first time I got a contract; I guess you could call it that. It was a quick hit and run and all I got out of it was $200 and this feeling. This feeling like I could do anything, it was like I was on top of the world. So I did it again, and again and again; before I knew it I was a pretty infamous assassin. \n\nWhen I first started I made all kinds of mistakes; I mean I tried my best to avoid stupid mistakes. Stuff I picked up not to do on TV and in books so thankfully I was never pinned for anything when I was young and stupid. After awhile I built up my skills got better at everything. Better at vetting my clients, better at hiding and better at killing. So much better. After the first thousand I would say I had gotten top be on of the best honing and practicing my skills. I don't mean a thousand contracts just a thousand kills. I always charge a body count onto my rates. If someone wants some drug lord or high level executive killed; there is going to be collateral. As the body count grew so did I. I went from just straight drive bys to staging break ins to poisoning then framing to infiltrating; I was like a chameleon taking a new name, new face and even new habits. It was all fun getting better and better. I sometimes spent years undercover but even that started to get old. \n\nI have no real morals; I like to think I do but really I don't. The only kind of contracts I won't take are kids. Just something about it never felt right. I don't mean I felt bad about it just that there was no real challenge in it. But men and women of all walks of life were fair game. And I did it alot but like I said, I got numb to it. Bored. I pretty much retired. I mean I had made millions doing what I do, but it was never about the money it was always about the thrill. I mean spending a year being a foot solider in some drug cartel just to make it to their big get together and blow them all to pieces. Or opening up a funeral home for years waiting for this for this old women die; just to get here son at the funeral. I loved going in for the long haul but it got old to; it was always the same. Move in build trust and a presence then kill and move on. It was always the same pattern so I got bored; anyone would really.\n\nIt was a couple years after I thought I had retired that I got an interesting request. Someone want this women dead; but not just dead. They wanted her miserable, suffering and broken. They wanted to break her down so she takes her own life. And they wanted me to do it. It was incredible; just thinking about it made get that feeling that thrill of accomplishment that I have been longing for. The target was a women named Emma; she was 34 turning 35 in a few months. 5 7' with dirty blonde hair, green eyes and a nice figure. She lived in London and had been there for 8 years. She was a teacher at a school for troubled kids. I don't know or really care what she did to piss off my client to want her dead. All I know is I had to make her lose her will to live. So I studied her, both as she lived her life now and her past. She had lived in a bad home where her mother had abused her; her father was no where to be seen. She went from her mom to foster home after foster home and not faring much better. When she was 16 she started to live on her own had a few bad boyfriends 1 really terrible one that put her in the hospital for a few months. But she just kept on going kept her head high and moved on. Seeing her now you would never know how shitty her past was. \n\nI had studied and had moved into her neighborhood to be closer. I finally introduced myself to her. I was going by Ryan at this point; I had given up being Charles, at least for now. I just came to her as a neighbor asking about the city. I had just moved here from New York and everything was strange and different. She took me to a couple of her favorite restaurants; and before I knew what was going on we had started dating. Everyday I would try and undermine here and slowly chip away at her. But after 6 months with absolutely 0 results I gave up on that approach. Then it hit me; I would have to build her; no us up. Build us up so high that the base would crumble and then I would be done. So I became the perfect boyfriend doing everything I could to make her happy. After another 6 months we got engaged and another year after that we were married. She told me everyday how happy and lucky she was for having found me. It was nice living with her going out shopping and seeing movies. All these other activities that had been boring and mundane to me before started to fill with life. I began enjoying my time with her more and more. \n\nShe had always wanted kids but I never have. We would sometimes argue about it but that never lasted long. We were in love; she loved me and I loved her in a way. It never seem the same as the way she loved me. Finally we tried for a kid but she had a miscarriage; after we recovered from that we tried again but it was the same thing. When we went to the doctors we were told; she can't have kids. She was devastated for weeks I could barley get her to talk to me. But then I mentioned we can always adopt and it was like all her sadness and depression shifted onto this new hope and she started to turn into her self again. We started the process and knew that it would be a slow one but we were happy, despite of that. Though I could feel all her hope resting on this needing it; if anything happened I don't know what would happen to her. \n\nIt was about 5 or 6 months after that it happened. We were out doing our Sunday morning shopping; and while crossing the street this car came racing through the light going straight for her. So I did what anyone in my position would have I pushed her out of the way. But I wasn't fast enough to get myself out of the way. I spent 4 days in the hospital on life support before it was decided. I was a lost cause she had to pull the plug and let me go. I didn't even get a chance to say goodbye or tell her how much I appreciated how she made me fell. \n\nAll that is left is this article:\n\n38 year old school teacher found dead in her home in apparent suicide. The women, Emma, seems to have taken her life after running into numerous challenges that took too big a toll. After speaking with her neighbor Charles we came to learn that Emma and her husband Ryan had trouble conceiving a child. And then ran into difficulties trying to adopt. Charles said that this had taken a large toll on the couple but what was the final straw happened a few months later. On a Sunday shopping trip, Ryan was struck by a passing motorist and died a few days later in the hospital. Emma became disjointed and distant and a few days after the hospital lost her Husbands body she took her own life.\n\nNote: First time posting, became a lot longer than I thought it would. "
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[WP] A level 1 hero accidentally obtains access to a level 100 legendary item.
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"It was with the hands of beings that men once called gods- the great *Programmers* themselves- that the Blade of Ruin was crafted. A sword rumored to have existed for years, since technical alpha, and the objective of many hunts. \n\nIt was said that the Blade of Ruin made any character gain a second skill tree, something that would normally take years of grinding. It was said the Blade of Ruin granted a permabuff that caused a voice to speak in your head. It was said the Blade of Ruin is a *unique* item, only one copy existing in the entire world of Scandriel. \n\nAnd of course, it was said to be BiS for any class. \n\nYet, most thought it a mere myth until last week. A soother found it. But not some grand soother that could qualm a riot and riot a monk. It wasn't found by an adventurer seeking glory and riches. It was a level one soother named 'SazedHazNoDk'. He accidently dropped something on his keyboard before going for tendies, or so the most popular theory on /r/MistbornTheGame states. \n\nRoughly one hour after creation, SazedHazNoDk logged out and was deleted by the player, the Blade gone with him. "
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[WP] every time you die you are reborn with the memories and experiences of all your past life’s. You are now on your 10th life born in a family of six in a third world country.
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"Again?! No way had I been born into a poor family again. Life is stupid. Why don’t I ever get the luck everyone else seems to have? This is unfair. Everytime I go through the process of being reborn I hear the spirits laughing at me, everytime. They jeer at me and insult me because of my inability to do anything in life, while I only mutter under my breath, knowing that abusing the spirits verbally would not end up going well for me.\n10th time. Still nothing. I know I’ve tried.\nIt’s just my luck. \n\nLife is a repetitive cycle, and I’m getting tired of it. I’ve got 5 brothers, 1 has autism and its my job to take care of him, the other four spend their money on drugs and mistreat my kind, supportive and loving mother. I don’t have a father.\n\nI know everything from my past lives and I have so much knowledge to share. Sadly, the fact that I’m 12 makes me sound like I’m bullshitting. \n\nI might just kill myself to get to the next life.\n\n*bang*"
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[WP] Write your favorite Boss Battle, except from the perspective of the “Boss”, who views his opponents as the true Boss Battle
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"I have maintained my vigil for... I’m not sure how long. Around me is a twisted world, sustained by the fading flame. It was long ago when I rekindled it. Now it promises to die. I intend to defend what is left of it with my life. \n\nNow they have come before me. The Ashen One, they are called. So the prophecies and whispers tell me. I thought I would be the last one to bear this mantle. The Chosen Undead. Yet in this one I see a fire that I held within me so many years ago. \n\nThe fire inside of me burns, threatens to turn even me into cinders. I felt all of my comrades fade away, their souls taken by the being before me. Yhorm, his gentle heart snuffed out. The Abyss Watchers, their watch ended. Aldrich, contemptible in his gluttony and lust for power. Ludleth, a strange soul fallen from the height of his power. \n\nThen there was Lothric. He who refused to link the flame. A noble soul to be sure, but fragile. And ultimately unworthy. \n\nThey all have fallen. So has this Ashen One. They’ve fallen to my spear, my blade, my spell dozens of times. And here they stand. Flesh wreathed in the embers of power. Blades in hand. Strange. These are different than the greatsword and shield he wielded moments ago. \n\nI silently approach them, as they stalk towards me, their armor clinking softly. I begin the battle in earnest. My swings are slow. Too slow. I can feel their blades rake my flesh. Magic. Enchanted blades. \n\nI open the distance between us. I must reassess. With a flourish, my blade lengthens. I stand with a spear in my hand now, and charge. They do well to dodge. Not well enough. The tip bites into them as they roll off, and falling to one knee, they drink from a golden flask. Ah, the memories. \n\nI charge them this time with my spear before me, held like a lance. They dodge cleanly and take this opportunity to ravage my body. Turning my spear into a scimitar, I return the favor. My agility is amplified, my speed capable of matching their own. Good. We engage once, twice, three times more when they retreat back. \n\nMy weapon transforms into a staff, and I unleash a torrent of magic upon them. In moments they are upon me, and I can feel my strength fading. Ah, this is it. The end for...\n\nNo. Thrusting my blade into the ground, I can feel power course through me. This is not my end. Not yet. The blade sinks down further, a torrent of flame raging around me, nearly turning this ashen one to nothing more than a pile of ash. Before me, there was another. \n\nGwyn. I channel him now, my blade heavy at my side. The weight of my charge heavier than ever, it lends me strength. Resolve. Determination. \n\nI can feel the lightning form in my hand, and throw it like a spear at this Ashen One. They do not expect it, and it catches them directly. \n\nTwo drinks from their flask this time. I will not let them use all of them. \n\nI swing my blade upwards, raking through the ground, the flames lending it length and strength. The Ashen One is suspended in the air for a moment, and I know I have them. \n\nA flurry of blows comes from my blade. Finally, as the Ashen One falls broken, I unleash an inferno from my body, the power that brings me so much sorrow threatening to overwhelm me as it destroys them. \n\nI return to my place by the fire. In its light, I am restored. I do not know how long it is, but when I open my eyes once more they are before me. I know I will lose. Perhaps not this time, perhaps not even the next time. But I will lose. It is my duty to fight to defend the flame. But this Ashen One has the fire within them, and the will to see this through. \n\nLet them come. "
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[WP] Magic has always been spread between all people. When there were 6 billion of us, it was spread too thin to notice. Not anymore.
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"I snapped my fingers, and a small flame appeared.\n\n\"Lord President?\" a voice asked. I snuffed out the flame. I hadn't been listening, so I missed him coming in.\n\n\"Hm? What is it, General?\"\n\n\"The extermination of the British is going just as you planned.\"\n\n\"Oh. Good. How are the preparations for the Balkan campaign coming along?\"\n\n\"We'll be ready in three weeks by the looks of it.\"\n\n\"Good, good. Just keep it up. I'm... Busy. Paperwork.\"\n\n\"Of course, Lord President.\"\n\nHe left and closed the door.\n\nI snapped my fingers again, and once again, the flame appeared. I let it grow larger, and larger. My powers were definitely growing.\n\nI'd started as President of Saxony in the wake of World War III. I'd always had an interest in the occult, but I never really thought anything would come of it. But as the death toll rose, tiny things began happening. Small things, such as a spark appearing. I gained the ability to bend metal. Soon, I picked up guide after guide to help me gain more knowledge.\n\nOf course, I realised what was going on before long.\n\nI dragged Europe into another war after that, and so far, it was going well. I'd conquered most of Western and Central Europe. The U.S. and Russia were in disarray after the WWIII, so they couldn't stop me. No one was organised enough to do so. I caught everyone by surprise.\n\nWhen I stood in Paris, I had myself declared Lord President of Europe, but my ambition was greater than even that.\n\nA leader can be killed, or dethroned.\n\nThe power that I was going after was nothing so trivial. With practice, I could reign supreme and prevent all others from collecting knowledge of this secret art.\n\nThe Balkan... I was looking forward to it. The more deaths, the better. I'm sure people would think of me as a supremacist, but in reality I didn't really care about race.\n\nWith enough potential, my powers wouldn't be limited to just child's play, like these flames. I would keep on going, and become an immortal God-King. I would destroy all those seeking to rival my power and live for all ages.\n\nWe'd have to slaughter many people. After conquering Europe, my gaze would be focused on India and China.\n\nYes, a God-King.\n\nI conjured a piece of carbon in my hand from thin air, and continued my paperwork. I had to keep this a secret for now.\n\nPractice and blood. Practice and blood."
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