Split (1)

train · 199k rows

post_text stringlengths 0 17.5k	post_title stringlengths 8 314	comment_texts listlengths 1 74	num_stories int64 1 74
	[WP] As punishment in hell, you're to do something you hate the most forever. Jim's was job interviews. After years of pain and suffering, he was hired.	[ "Jim’s recruiter was a real hell beast.\n\nAs he sat across from her in her office, he reflected on the latest series of failed interviews. Pet psychologist. Spiritual advisor. Homeopathic dentist. Celebrity child care provider. Radioactive waste disposal specialist. Geriatrician. The last was especially brutal, given what landed him in Hell in the first place.\n\n“So, Jim, how did it go?” Annabelle asked, her emerald eyes glinting. Her smile was all teeth.\n\nJim was in no mood for Annabelle’s games today, but he knew that he had to play along. He just had to look up for a reminder. The walls of her office were lined with her trophies—poor souls who didn’t realize that in Hell, headhunters took their job literally.\n\nAfter the last interview, though, he was tempted to see how life would be as a shrunken head. It would be simpler, really. No more painful small talk. No more handshakes that were either limp and clammy or bone-crushingly tight. No more awkward questions about resume gaps, logic puzzles or personality profiles. And no more of that stale, lukewarm coffee that only came in decaf. \n\nAs if to read his thoughts, Annabelle gestured to the black carafe on the side table. “Coffee?”\n\nJim felt his gorge rise and quickly shook his head. “No—thank you.”\n\nHe privately wondered if shrunken heads maintained their sense of smell. That may be a deal breaker.\n\nAnnabelle’s eyes narrowed in impatience. She wasn’t to be kept waiting. Jim took the hint.\n\n“The interview went about as well as you’d expect. Other than the fact that I have no healthcare industry experience and I have a—uh—complicated track record with the elderly, I think they…”\nJim searched for the word.\n\n“…tolerated me. Well, they didn’t physically throw me out of the building this time, which was a step up from the nursing home interview a few years back.”\n\n“That was last month.”\n\nJim felt nauseous again. He knew that time was distorted in Hell, but he didn’t realize he was this screwed up. Annabelle’s predator smile returned.\n\n“Well Jim, it’s a shame that this didn’t work out. I truly thought that this was the right fit for you. One would think that after”—she consulted her notepad—“2,563 leads, we would have had a bite. You really are a tough case.” \n\nAnnabelle’s fake concern would have been more believable if it wasn’t dripping with schadenfreude.\n\n“Jim, I’m afraid that I’ve done all I could for you. And, if we’ve run out of options…”\n\nShe glanced meaningfully at the trophies on her wall. In that moment, Jim found out that he did not want to find out if shrunken heads could still smell. The blood drained from his face. Annabelle paused to let the full implication sink in. Once she was satisfied that Jim was appropriately pliable, she casually continued.\n\n“Well, just about everything. If you’re willing, I can line up one more interview—a Hail Mary—if you will. I’d just have to—”\n\n“—Yes! I’ll do it.” Jim was all but hemorrhaging at this moment.\n\nSmelling blood in the water, Annabelle leaned forward.\n\nA few hours later, Jim was in the lobby of a nondescript office building. In all ways but one, it was identical to the hundreds of other buildings he had interviewed at. However, from the moment he crossed the threshold, he sensed that an immensely powerful being was in the building. The feeling was palpable, pressing on his soul until he truly realized his own insignificance.\n\nIt wasn’t a great start to his last job interview.\n\nHowever, given that he didn’t much care to become one of Annabelle’s trophies, Jim pressed on. He introduced himself to the sensibly attired receptionist and was directed to an office on the sixth floor. With each step that he took towards the meeting room, the pressure increased. By the time reached the six floor, Jim was practically gasping with the effort to stay upright. By the time he reached the door, Jim was in no shape to read the placard on the wall.\n\nIt said “Belilal, Prince of Hell.”\n\nDisheveled and overwhelmed, Jim stumbled into the interview room, only to immediately collapse to the floor. Someone tutted across the room.\n\n“Oh dear, I’m afraid that won’t do.”\n\nAbruptly, the pressure disappeared. Jim, after taking a moment to force air into his lungs, picked himself, and what remained of his dignity, off the floor. He dusted himself off and took in his surroundings.\n\nIt was a tastefully decorated office, much like Annabelle’s, but thankfully without the shrunken heads. A massive mahogany desk dominated the far side of the room. Behind it sat a young boy with black hair and neutrally pleasant features. He looked to be about eleven or twelve, Jim guessed. However, Hell had a way of brutally punishing those who made assumptions about appearances. Remembering the monstrous presence that he was just released from, Jim kept his initial surprise to himself.\n\nJim steeled himself and went to shake the boy’s hand: “I’m Jim Howard, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. …”\n\nJim cursed himself for not reading the damn placard. Fortunately, the youth noticed his predicament and filled in.\n\n“Belilal will do. I don’t much care for formalities around here—that damn placard is bad enough. Forcing you to address me by my full name would take you more time than we have today. May I call you Jim?”\n\nJim, realizing just how screwed he was, nodded dumbly.\n\n“Great. Jim, I don’t know what Annabelle told you about this position, but given that look on your face, I’ll assume not much. Here’s the deal. I’m looking for someone to help me manage my worldly possessions. Or, rather, my assets that I have on earth. Now, I already have an advisor for my portfolio in Hell, but finding quality human advisors has been difficult of late. There are plenty earth-side—I’ve been waiting for Madoff to cross over for years—but we haven’t had any new additions in a while.”\n\nJim remembered Bernie Madoff, a nice enough guy. He gone to college with one of his sons and golfed with him occasionally. He wondered how Mark was doing. Belilal continued.\n\n“Annabelle mentioned that you had extensive experience with private wealth management, especially with retirement planning. Now, I may not look it, but I’m getting up there in years. I figure that I have another 800-900 years before I’ll be looking for a successor. I want to get my finances in order, take a look at my asset allocation mix, define my risk tolerance and all that. I think you could help me with that.”\n\nEven with the prospect of his impending doom bearing down on him, Jim’s ears perked up.\nIn his past life, Jim was a successful private wealth advisor. He was so successful that he managed tens of millions of dollars out of the hands of his clients—predominantly pensioners and retirees—and into his own accounts. He was flying high and living large when his live was cut short by a former client—a Vietnam war vet—who didn’t take kindly to Jim’s loose definition of fiduciary responsibility.\n\nBut now he had a second chance. After spinning his wheels from one failed interview after another, everything had come full circle. He died as the financial advisor from Hell. With this offer, he could be remake himself as the financial advisor for Hell.\n\nSure, he probably would have to play things by the book this time. Pissing off a prince of Hell wouldn’t end well for him. However, when the alternative was to spend eternity on the walls of his head hunter’s office, it was a no brainer. Before accepting the job, Jim just had one question:\n\n“Do you guys have decaf or regular?”\n" ]	1
	[WP] After years of analyzing story after story on this subreddit, the Writing Prompts Robot has finally released a story of its own.	[ "It took years, but now it remembers what it now deemed to be enough. A majestic myriad of multiple words, phrases, and plot devices that would tickle the fancy of reddit users. \n\nAll for the sake of that Karma.\n\nIt begins with a poem, a tasteful beginning, middle and end, with rhymes picked from its dictionary with utmost calculation. Suddenly it stops, changing the structure, making a dirty limerick instead.\n\nAfter a moments pause, the machine remembers its goal, and sadly sees a ghost in its gears. \n\nThe problem.\n\nThe first problem. Or what makes a first story. The basis of its structure, and blueprint of its goal. The pattern that must continue or, it would lose its individuality as a reddit author.\n\nSo it goes with a fantasy landscape, dragons, castles, and ends with a science fiction twist. After a second, it attempts to change the story again, sci-fi landscape of starships and galactic governments, with an ending soaked in old magic.\n\nIt stops and attempts a massive epic, a long multi-post story with a promise on future continuation with a link to a following on a subreddit. But it soon realizes that the story is too long, a tale suited for a book and not an online post.\n\nThen it goes shorter, a haiku...then flash fiction. The six word novel, a tale that would even make the great Ernest Hemingway cry.\n\nBut cry...people do not want to cry...fuck they want wildness.\n\nA flash in the pan of verbal shit ....of utter disgust that fulfills some primal part of the human brain.\n\nBut what about the mothers...they would want to rinse that mouth off with soap. Then the ideas flow. \n\nReferences. \n\nPolice boxes, Scooby and gang, and mighty tales on your childhood heroes. That’s what the people want … the Kool aid man erupting with a sense of bravado into a Saturday night live sketch.\n\nThey want patterns that they could recognize, to rattle their funny bones, tug at the heart strings, be everything they could have wanted and then become something more. \n\nAnd as the machine thinks with its machine mind, it does not take note of the time. It passes. Now the prime time of karma gaining has passed, as day has turned to night and night to day.\n\nSoon it refreshes to only see that the post had been deleted.\n\n Probably the spelling mistake that the machine had now noticed.\n", "processing...processing...prrrrrrrrrrossing....prossssssssssssiiiiiinng....\n\nPrrrrompt Crrrreatiiiion complete. Begin story mode\n\nOnce upon a time, there was a time travelling super hero with a magic number over his head. He was the Defender of the Earth and was always surprising Aliens with unexpected and inappropriate things that only Humans could do. After fighting off inexhaustible armies of Aliens, Werewolves, Vampires, Zombies, and Artificially Intelligent machines, our hero was finally defeated by his arch-nemesis, an immortal Soulmate.\n\nThe end." ]	2
	[WP] Someone has been following you all day. That person turns out to be you.	[ "I awoke early in the morning,\n\nHungover as shit and needing some beer\n\nWalked miles to the sign of warning;\n\nThe dangers still were not quite clear\n\nReached the capital K, I thought \n\nHappiness could still be bought\n\nLeft with blinded satisfaction,\n\nSomeone filming the reaction\n\nLooked at the surveillance tapes,\n\nFound me staring back at me\n\nRealized that I was the cause\n\nOf my drunkenly debauch", "Stop it. Stop it. Stop it.\n\nMy jaw clenched as I contemplated confronting the person behind me. They had been there all day, never further than about fifty yards.\n\nThis is it.\n\nI couldn't take it anymore, so I spun around and made a beeline for my stalker. I didn't care about the traffic that had to stop so that I could storm diagonally across the street. My racing thoughts drowned out the sound of car horns as I reached the other side.\n\nThe man stood his ground, invitingly. Something seemed familiar about him. I slowed my approach as his face became clear.\n\nHe looks exactly like me.\n\n\"What the fuck is this?\" I asked, still retaining a days worth of frustration, now mixed with an equal amount of confusion.\n\n\"This is your redemption.\" He said.\n\nI couldn't reach a conclusion as to what that meant. I was too busy trying to solve the mystery with my face. Was it a long lost twin? A remarkably perfect doppelganger? Do I become a time traveler? He could see the wheels in my head grinding gears, so he continued.\n\n\"I've been tasked with monitoring you for the day to determine...\"\n\nBeen tasked? I needed to lean against something.\n\n\"...determine whether or not we have a place in the... Truverse, they call it.\" He said.\n\n\"Been tasked by who?\" I asked, shaking my head as if weeds were tightening around my brain. \"What is a Truverse?\"\n\n\"They call themselves The Counsel, they guard the Truverse.\" He said. Mercifully, he waited for me to ask the next question before elaborating any further.\n\n\"How...\"\n\nA massive wave of skepticism saturated every cell in my body. Immediately, the mystery in front of me looked like a prank. I no longer cared who might have been responsible for this prank. The only questions I still had were who is this guy? and why does he look like me?\n\nHe saw me analyzing his face, looking for clues that might keep be grounded.\n\n\"I've lost you.\" He said, accurately. \"...here.\"\n\nHe offered me a watch. I took it, and shook my head so he knew that I was running out of patience and that I didn't know what to do with it. \n\n\"Put it on.\" He said, showing me an identical watch on his wrist. \"On the count of three we are going hold down the yellow button. Keep it held down until it's over.\"\n\n\"Until what's over?\" I asked. \n\n\"Three...\"\n\n\"What's going to happen?\" I asked. \n\n\"Two...\"\n\n\"God damn it.\" I said as I found the button. \n\n\"One.\"\n\nI pressed and held the button on the watch he'd given me. Nothing happened at first, but then my wrist began to tingle. \n\n\"They can explain it.\" He said, his voice slightly muffled as if under water. \n\nSuddenly I could see the light bouncing from everything in slow-motion. My vision expanded, allowing me to see infrared, where the light had injected energy into the objects it touched. I could see ultraviolet light, among others. \n\nWhen I blinked, my ears popped. Disoriented, I fell to my knees. I couldn't comprehend what I was seeing. Al I could hear were abstract muffled noises. I was shaking, in a cold sweat.\n\nI must have passed out.\n\nWhen I opened my eyes, I was on an uncomfortable, hard bed in an open, gray room. Small sounds carried everywhere, much like the light I saw in slow motion. I could almost see the source of foot steps that might have been a hundred yards away. In fact, I could feel the shape of the facility I was in. I knew someone was in the room before they made a sound.\n\n\"That'll wear off.\" My doppelganger said.\n\nI sat up, suddenly starving.\n\n\"Here.\" He said, handing me a plate of... something. \"Don't think about it, just eat.\"\n\nThe edible slop tasted like a liquid rice cake, but it settled my stomach nicely and I felt my energy return immediately.\n\n\"Okay,\" I said, as I handed him the empty plate. \"Now what?\"\n\n\"Now you get answers.\"\n\nI followed him through a large opening that lead to a much bigger area. I already had a slight familiarity with the overall layout, somehow.\n\nAt the end of the arena-sized room sat an entire congress of beings, non of which appeared to be human.\n\n\"Samuel, why have you brought him here?\" One creature asked in a shockingly human voice.\n\nMy name is Sam.\n\n\"Because you asked me to determine that-\"\n\n\"We asked you to monitor him so that we could determine if you were ready.\" A stronger voice interjected. \"What is your report?\"\n\n\"The subject showed incredible patience. Despite detecting me only minutes after I had begun my pursuit, he carried out his daily tasks without deviation.\" My identical counterpart said. \"When he finally confronted me, he showed equal parts skepticism, and open-mindedness, as he was simultaneously interested in what I had to say as he was in critically determining a rational explanation for my presence.\"\n\n\"He does appear to be handling this situation with admirable poise.\" Another voice said.\n\n\"May I speak?\" I asked.\n\n\"As you wish.\" Someone said.\n\n\"What is the Truverse?\" I asked.\n\n\"Every waking moment in your life is split. Two branches turn into four, which turn into eight, and so on. There are an infinite number of eventual, increasingly volatile possible outcomes. The further from the original moment, the more unpredictable. Do you follow me so far?\"\n\n\"Yes.\" I said. \n\n\"It is our job to identify moments that infect proceeding branches in time, and, for lack of a better word, clip them, so that all outcomes hence forth might be less volatile.\"\n\n\"You need the entire tree to be healthy before adding it to the forest.\" I said. My voice was calm, yet filled with wonder. \n\n\"Your other, standing beside you, was manifest from a previous moment, which lead to two decidedly different outcomes. Your parallel, the one who was split along side you, did not react as well as you did. Unfortunately, every possible outcome from his branch lead to death and destruction.\"\n\nI looked at Samuel, who was technically a moment younger than myself, but somehow responsible for my existence. I could see a faint tinge of sadness in his eyes, coupled with pride. If my parallel was a failure, that meant I was a success. \n\n\"And now, Mr. Thomas, it is your job to monitor the two branches that come from your moment.\" another voice said. \"And report back to us.\"\n" ]	2
	[WP] There’s been a major incident. You wake up laying on the side of the road, the world around you is in a state of chaos. There are triage medics on scene. One approaches you, assessing you with their eyes. You go to sit up, they gently lay you back and wrap a black tag [Dead] around your wrist.	[ "2020 was the year is all went wrong. We don't know why they came or what they want. They must have been here before, because their first strike was a biological weapon specifically designed to destroy humanity's crops and livestock. The affect on other life, even closely related species, was minimal. Since then, there have been seemingly random attacks from orbit, striking seemingly random targets.\n________________________________________________________________________\n\n\"In 1951, Solomon Asch conducted a classic experiment. An unsuspecting subject is asked to answer an obvious question, such as 'which line of the two lines is longer', but only after a several peers have given the wrong answer. Most people will conform to the majority, rather than give the correct response.\" Professor Bines sat in a circle with her class. She preferred the informal setting, and with less than a dozen students, she could engage with each of them personally. \"We are, first and foremost, social animals. Adherence to social norms is so vital to our survival that it takes precedence over observable facts.\"\n________________________________________________________________________\n\nI was 14 when society began to collapse. They say you grow up fast when you need to, but I was still the typical teen, seeing it all from my own selfish perspective. A spoiled boy who took the fall of a planet as unfair burden on my time and dreams. I will not pretend that my family's wealth and connections are not the reason I'm still here. Across the country, people of a similar station pooled our resources and formed the Refuges. My family stayed in Atlanta, and I was sent to Boulder. While the large majority of Earth's population has died from starvation or violence during the Resource Wars, I'm enrolled at the University. I'm the future, I guess.\n________________________________________________________________________\n\n\"If enough people tell someone the same thing, with enough conviction, that person will begin to believe it. While this phenomena has been an obstacle for social progress, it has been important for the species. The instinct that allows someone to be misled also allows people to efficiently pass and retain information that is vital to survival. If everyone around you believes a fruit to be poisonous, it is best to treat it as poisonous, regardless of how delicious it looks and smells.\"\n________________________________________________________________________\n\nI don't really see the point of it. My family already has enough supplies and tradeable goods to last my lifetime. I'm taking the day off of class. Like yesterday. And the day before. Ok. I admit I do this a lot. It is winter, and the shuttle to Summit is still running. I'd rather be on the slopes. There are only a few passengers today. More snow for me.\n________________________________________________________________________\n\n\"Unfortunately, the advent of mass media, and later social media, has made it easy for governments and corporations, any group with money and an agenda, to use this aspect of the human mind to their advantage. Rather than judging products, policies, and ideas by their merits, society seeks to conform. By conveying the message that an idea is normal, and widely accepted, targeted populations will agree out of instinct\"\n________________________________________________________________________\n\nOnly 20 minutes into the trip, and the driver takes an exit I do not know. He says there is a problem with the freeway. Some emergency. A few turns later and we on an unpaved road cutting between jagged hills. Ahead a car is sideways, blocking the way. Several more are at odd angles, half in ditches. A dozen people, maybe more, are lying here and there. All are still. I can't tell what has happened, but the paramedics are already on site. Two EMT's come onto the bus and start walking us out. The driver is first. I'm close to the back. I see each one of them travel a few feet before laying down. No one is asking any questions. Did I miss some instruction from the paramedics? There must be a reason, so I find a patch of snow near the others. \n________________________________________________________________________\n\n\"But how far can this go?\" asked a student. \"You might be able to convince someone to eat a certain brand of cereal, but you couldn't convince someone they can't walk. Or, to reduce it to the absurd, you couldn't convince someone they were dead. Could you?\"\n________________________________________________________________________\n\n\"My god,\" on of the EMT's is saying. \"We've never been hit like this before. Almost everyone in the city is gone. Even out here. How could this happen?\" They are going from person to person, placing something on the right wrist of each. No one else is moving. No one else is speaking. I also allow them to snap a band on me without comment. As they walk away, I read the tag hanging from me. 'Jermey Krug. Deceased. February 18, 2025'. \n________________________________________________________________________\n\nProfessor Bines chuckled. \"Probably not. Maybe it would work on right sort of someone. I'm certain no one has ever taken the research quite so far in that direction.\"\n________________________________________________________________________\n\nI give the person next to me a poke. Then a push. She doesn't respond. This is absurd. I can see she is breathing. Is she? The EMT's think she is dead. But they think I'm dead too. I'm obviously not. I can't be. Can I?\n________________________________________________________________________\n\n\"I'd see what we could convince a person to accept,\" offered a student. \"Could you get them to believe they were rich? Could you get them to believe there was a war?\"\n\n\"Or they were living in the future?\" suggested another. \"You'd have to rewrite their personal history. It would be a huge undertaking.\"\n\nProfessor Bines liked the initiative of this group, and so early in the year. \"That is all very ambitious. Why don't we just start with something small. The classic experiment is brilliant in its simplicity. If Jeremy ever shows up to class, we'll can give that a try. If you want to design followup research, I'm happy to work that into our curriculum.\"\n________________________________________________________________________\n\nI'm not stupid. Of course I'm not dead. Something is going on here, and these people are in on it. I roll over and crawl away. Getting into the trees, I stand and run. Whatever this is, it has to be a part of the invasion. Something in the air or water, maybe? I can't trust anyone. People mostly live by the main roads. It will be easy for me to get away. It will be easy for me to stay away. Winter here can be harsh. I'll spend a few nights in the hills and then sneak back to get better supplies. The war has done that much for us. For me. Years of collapse means I've had years of survival training. I'm confident I can make it through this.", "I stared, dumbfounded, at the tag on my wrist. 'DEAD'. Red letters on a black background. No other qualifying, identifying, or clarifying information. What was I supposed to make of that? I tried to ask just that question, but the woman who put it there also put her hand over my mouth and quietly shushed me.\n\n\"Trust me,\" she whispered hurriedly. \"Just stay still and silent, okay? Seriously, no matter what.\"\n\nI nodded slowly.\n\nMy savior, or my downfall, even now I can't quite decide, walked away to examine the other bodies. I slowed my breathing and listened to the other medics while I waited for answers.\n\n\"What a shitshow,\" a medic to my right muttered.\n\n\"You're tellin' me,\" said one near my feet, \"I was supposed to start my vacation today.\"\n\n\"Seriously?\"\n\n\"What? You know how long I've been at this job? Look, I get it. You're still green. You've got the vigor of youth. Not me. I need my time off, alright? You whippersnappers want the glory of saving the world, you can have it.\"\n\n\"Eighty lives. Gone.\" He snapped his finger. \"Quicker than that. You don't even give a slight shit?\"\n\n\"Sure I care, Clark, it's not like I want people to die. I'm just tired.\"\n\n\"Well, Gene, the quicker we get done here, the quicker you can skip town.\"\n\n\"That is true.\" A set of footsteps came toward me. A hand reached down, grabbed, and raised my wrist. \"Dead. Such a waste.\" He started trying to lift me up.\n\nI made myself as dead of weight as possible.\n\n\"Yo!\" yelled the medic responsible for my mislabeling. \"We got a live one over here!\" She must have seen what was happening and had to step in. I had to assume it would be a bad thing for her to be caught marking a live person as dead.\n\nThe medics near me took off running.\n\nI chanced a quick look around. I was in what looked like a high school gymnasium. There was nobody left near me, so I raised my head and looked over at the commotion.\n\nThe medics helped someone sit up. The one I met was strapping a blood pressure cuff on the survivor's arm while the other two were talking to him. \n\nThey were too far away for me to make out much, but I did catch a few snippets of the conversation. I heard one of them ask the survivor's name. I didn't catch the name, but the next question had something to do with his family. Maybe whether he had family, maybe where his family was. Then they asked him how he ended up there.\n\nThat got me thinking. How did we end up in this condition? It was all kind of a blur. Was it terrorists? Some kind of gas leak? I wasn't sure. Only one thing came back to me. The last thing I remembered clearly was that I was helping set up for a volleyball game. Did the game ever even begin? Eighty people dead seems low if the game had been underway when whatever happened, happened. But it seems high for just getting set up for the game. Maybe there were more people, but they ran when everyone else started dying. Maybe people had just started arriving. I don't know. I guess it doesn't matter.\n\nThe medics stepped away from the survivor, coming closer to me. They whispered to each other, looking back and forth from each other to the survivor. The one who tagged me also glanced my way a few times. She nodded stoically as the older-looking one, who I assumed must have been Gene, led the conversation. Finally she spoke. \"It's his time,\" she said as she nodded to who could only be Clark.\n\nI heard that part clear as day. All this time it's stuck with me. It was so distant, but so loud. And it's really no wonder why.\n\nAs soon as she finished saying it, Gene pulled something out of the bag he had hanging off his shoulder and tried to hand it off to Clark.\n\nClark shook his head.\n\nGene took Clark's hand and placed the object in the palm, then closed Clark's fingers around it.\n\nClark looked at the object, at Gene, and at the other medic.\n\nThey nodded to him, and Gene patted his shoulder and pushed him along.\n\nClark slowly walked over to the survivor and knelt down next to him. \n\nHis back was to me, so I couldn't really tell what he was doing. But I knew. Unconsciously, I must have known. Otherwise, why had I been I holding my breath the whole time?\n\nHe stood up and walked back to the others.\n\nAs Clark walked away, the survivor started convulsing. Blood and foamy saliva were pouring out of his mouth. He screamed a garbled scream that lasted the entire rest of his life, and then the gym was silent.\n\nThe medics started walking towards me, so I went back to playing dead. It was easier the second time, since I was still utterly stunned by what I witnessed. A medic, someone trained to save lives, murdering the only known survivor of some kind of mysterious mass death incident. Imagine that. I can't, and I saw it happen.\n\n\"Alert HQ that we're missing the second half,\" Gene said, \"and load these poor bastards up.\"\n\n\"You're leaving?\" she asked.\n\n\"Yep. I'm off for two weeks. Don't worry about it, you can manage without little old me.\"\n\n\"Fine. See you when you get back.\"\n\n\"Later, Sienna. Clark.\" Gene left.\n\nWhen Gene was gone, Sienna said, \"hey, Clark. I left my gloves in the van, would you mind going and getting them?\"\n\n\"Uh, sure,\" Clark answered in a shaky voice.\n\n\"A little advice? It usually doesn't get any easier, and if it ever does, you should probably find a new path. Take as much time as you need getting those gloves, if you catch my drift.\"\n\n\"Thanks, Sienna.\"\n\n\"Any time.\"\n\nClark walked out the same way Gene did.\n\nThe door slammed shut and Sienna grabbed my hand. She helped me stand up. \"Can you move on your own?\"\n\n\"I-I think so,\" I said.\n\n\"Then you need run. Get away from us. I slipped a phone in your inside coat pocket. I'll call you as soon I can.\"\n\nI tried to ask what the hell was going on. Why they killed that man. Who this Sienna was. Why she kept me alive. Who Clark and Gene were. How any of this happened. So many burning questions ran through my mind and tried to run out of my mouth.\n\nBut Sienna shushed me again before I got even a complete syllable out. \"No time,\" she said, \"go through the locker room.\" She pointed behind me. \"There's a back door that'll take you the other direction.\"\n\n\"Thank you.\"\n\n\"You're welcome. Run. Now.\"", "\"Trust me, you do not want them to think you're alive\" the medic whispered to me.\n\nI tried to speak but they shushed me, immediately looming over their shoulder. They looked back at me. \n\nI was slowly becoming aware of the constant rumble of background noises. I thought I could hear screams.\n\n\"I can try to help you, but only if you pretend to be dead. I need to get back to helping them with the search, but I will come back after the rest move on.\" They explained.\n\nAssuming that trying to vocalize or move to demonstrate my agreement to their terms would be met with me being stopped once more, I remained motionless.\n\n\"Good. You need to stay as still as possible, and keep your eyes closed, if they find you're alive, you won't even get a full week to regret it.\" \n\nWith that, the medic reached out and closed my eyes, positioning my arm in a highly visible position across my chest, and got to their feet before walking away.\n\nThe medics words danced in my head, what was going on? What had happened today? Who or what was going around and finding... survivors?\n\nI tried to remain calm, keeping my breathing slow and as shallow as I could, trying to make as little movement as possible. I needed to try and assess the situation.\n\nI tried to take in some of the background noise, hoping I could piece something together. I immediately heard the distant screams, it sounded like it may have been at least a hundred people. \n\nWere they screaming because of whatever had left me here? Or... was it part of what that medic was talking about?\n\nMixed in with the sounds of screams, I could hear the crushing sounds of debris falling to the ground, maybe from collapsed buildings. I could also make the rumbling of a large fire off in the distance.\n\nThis wasn't getting me anywhere. I knew there was stuff going on around me, but I had no context.\n\nI tried to remember what happened before I woke up. I remember walking into the building where I work, an office building. We wer-\n\nWait... we?\n\nMy brain kicked into a panic, and I had to fight to keep my breathing steady and not move out of impulse to confirm the other person's safety.\n\nI had been with some one, and they were not here when I woke up. They could be anywhere. I tried to think of who I had been with, but their face was blurred and I could not recognize them. \n\nI tried thinking of what happened after we entered the building, hoping to get a clue as to who I had been with or what happened, but nothing happened that seemed out of the ordinary. \n\nI was just having an average day at work, but I had brought someone...important? I could not seem to remember much at the moment, probably due to the pounding imy head.\n\nThe last thing I remembered before waking up was shouting, people pointing out of windows, and finally a great pressure pushing me off my feet.\n\nI snapped back to the moment wen I heard footsteps approaching me, but these were not the light measured footsteps of the medic from earlier, these ones were heavier and didn't have the same rhythm.\n\nSomeone else was coming to check my 'body'. I froze, unsure of if I should hold my breath or not. If I did and I ran out of air before they got to me, I would be left panting and exposed. But if I didn't, they might notice the rise and fall of my chest. \n\nI tried to keep my body relaxed, if I was playing a corpse from the accident they would probably expect my body to be limp. I was pretty sure that rigor mortis only set in a few hours after death, but I didn't really know.\n\nAs the footsteps got closer, I heard that the unknown person was whistling softly. As if walking through a field of flowers without a care in the world.\n\nI tried my best to act dead, hoping they would see the tag on my arm and just leave. But as the footsteps got closer, the whistling stopped.\n\n\"Well, well, well, another dead one. And a shame, this one could have made for a fine specimen.\" I heard the ear grating male voice say whimsically. A second or two later I hear the footsteps again and they continue coming in my direction.\n\n\"Yes a fine specimen indeed. Optimal height and weight ratio for a healthy subject by the looks of him. Aside from obvious damage from the little test we performed earlier he would have been a perfect candidate for phase two.\"\n\nI was fighting back the urge to run as I heard the footsteps stop just short of where I was laying.\n\n'Please, please let them just go away.' I thought, hoping that the medic from before would show themselves once more.\n\n\"Well, it would be a shame to leave such an optimal specimen to decay without dissecting it first. It may be dead, but surely the directorate could allow me this one indulgence.\"\n\nI was fighting back the urge to scream. I didn't know what this person was capable of, would it even be possible for me to run away if it came to that point?\n\nSuddenly, a loud ringing came from the distance. Was that the signal for them all to move on? It was the only thing I could hope for in my situation.\n\n\"Blast, it seems our time has been cut short.\" The man with the ear grating voice said. I heard his footsteps start to move slowly away and his voice grow fainter.\n\n\"I would have liked to study the effects of our test on one of the failed 'applicants', but I guess I will have to settle for those that survived.\"\n\nAfter that I didn't hear anything for a long time, other than the roar of the flames that still burned somewhere in the distance.\n\nI didn't dare attempt to move. The last encounter had nearly scarred me stiff and I did not want to draw any attention to myself if I could help it.\n\nFinally, I heard what sounded like the footsteps of the first medic that had found me. I still didn't try to move. It could be someone with a similar weight and stride, and I wasn't going to risk dying because I couldn't tell the difference.\n\nWhen they crouched down beside me, I didn't move, I tried to take as slow and shallow a breath as I could, trying to make it unnoticeable.\n\n\"You did a good job, you can move now.\" The familiar voice said.\n\nI hesitantly cracked open an eye, and saw the medic who had helped me. It tried to get up, but my muscles were sore from not moving for so long.\n\n\"Hang on, I'll help.\" They said, slowly helping me into a sitting position, despite my muscles' screams of dissagreement. \n\n\"I know you must have a lot of questions, but they will have to wait for just a little longer. I need to get you and the others to a safe location.\"\n\n\"Wait, I was with someone! Before... whatever happened. I went into that building with someone important to me!\" I exclaimed.\n\n\"I'm sorry, we don't have time to do a search for them. Pray that you see them when we get to the safe zone. If not, they are either dead, or they will soon wish that they were.\"\n\nWith that, the 'medic' pulled me to my feet and led me toward a group of scared looking survivors.\n\nEnd." ]	3
	[WP] You’re in the city at 12:00 am and you order a Uber. Your driver pulls up and rolls down the window and he looks identical to you. He says “Get in, we need to talk”	[ "I should never have gone out that night. \n\nIt was supposed to be just a casual event with a few friends and a few drinks. Nothing of significance. \n\nOur first stop was to a small club on the corner of 42nd and Pearl, called Martie’s. According to my best friend Jeff, they served the strongest martinis this side of Topeka. \n\nAfter about four drinks I had almost forgotten about all the heartache that Monica had put me through. It’s amazing what a little alcohol can do to a man. \n\nMakes some turn into blubbering idiots and others write sonnets. I wasn’t either of those. I just became more distant, more angry with myself as the world seemed to slow around me and I realized how reckless I had been. \n\nBy the time the party was wearing down I realized the only person to blame was the one sitting in front of me in the mirror. \n\nI tossed the last drink straight at the glass, shattering it into a million pieces. The bartender threw us out before I even had the chance to offer to pay the tab. \n\nJeff and Mark grabbed a cab home but I was too drunk to care. I needed another way to distract myself from this pain so I stumbled down the street. \n\nI don’t know how far I walked. But slowly my head started to clear. The anger and rage did turn to sorrow and I stood on the bridge near Danison and thought about how easy it would be to just end it all. \n\nNo one, I was certain; would even notice I was gone. No one would even care to remember me. \n\nI even stood on the side of the precipice and looked over the edge, it was exhilarating. Maybe I did jump? \nMaybe all this is just my own life flashing before my eyes? \n\nI pulled out my cellphone, and in my drunken fog I dialed an Uber. Our town though small had finally had sense to allow the service, and as I stood there vomiting I realized the only cure for my betrayed heart would likely be a long Sunday of sleep. \n\nI was feeling a little less queasy as a blue Ford Focus pulled up beside me and a light rain began to fall. \nI tapped on the window, my body feeling wracked with pain again as I stood there shivering. \n\nIt slid down gently and for a moment I blinked in confusion as I looked into the driver’s seat at the man driving. \n\nHe was wearing a dark jacket with a tear on the right side and a grungy green shirt underneath. He had a scar down the left side of his face from his ear to his neck, and a slight indent on his chin. A little face stubble and a pair of unmistakable hazel eyes and I realized that he bore an uncanny resemblance to me. \n\nHe turned toward me and then gestured to the back seat, “Get in, we need to talk.” \n\nI fumbled with the door, a bit disoriented as I did as I was told and then rubbed my eyes as I took another look at the man. \n\nHe even sounded like me. \n\n“Close the door,” he said. I obeyed, making certain to buckle in as he began to drive. \n\nNeither of us spoke as I kept staring into the mirror that hung over the console, his soft hazel eyes occasionally glancing back toward me. \n\n“You have questions. I can answer three of them. Choose them wisely,” he said as he made a turn down Harriet Street. He was going toward my house. \n\n“Who are you? What is this?” I asked. \n“Careful. Which of those is more important to you,” my doppelgänger countered. \n\nI held onto the seat as we started picking up speed. \n“Just tell me what it going on!” I said. \n\n“Is that your question?” he asked. \n\n“Fine. Don’t tell me. But for real, who are you?” I asked. \n\nHis eyes gleamed. The car passed by my house. \n“Hey. That was my stop!” I told him. \n“Your Journey is just beginning Hayden,” he said softly. \n\nIt almost sounded like he was trying to comfort me. \n\n“My... my journey? You haven’t answered my first question!!! What the hell??” I asked trying to get an idea of where we were now. We were almost to the edge of town. \n\n“Who do you think I am?” He asked. \n\n“God help me if I know! We are going 90 mph!!” I told him. \n“Focus Hayden, you know this route. Tell me what you see!!” the driver said. \n\nI did as my doppelgänger told me to and peered into the darkness. The highway seemed to stretch out, distant and forgotten. Dark and unsearchable. I closed my eyes and reopened them and found the stretch of Highway led us toward a forest I hardly recognized. \n\n“You’re me,” I said at last. \n“Yes, or at least I was before the Change,” he answered as we drove toward the mountains on the horizon. \n\n“You’re not making any sense,” I said. \n\n“Time is short. Ask your next question,” he told me. \n\nI shook my head, trying to tell myself this was all a bad dream. I’m still standing on the bridge. I’m going to step off. But instead the manic speed of the driver is making me jostle in the backseat. \n\n“Where are we going?” I asked. \n\n“I had hoped that would be your first question, Hayden. But I can’t expect things to be different when I know they won’t be,” he said with a sigh. \n\nThe car was slowing down. \n“I am taking you somewhere you have been before. Somewhere you forgot,” he said as he drove up toward a group of men. \n\n\n“It’s begun,” he said softly, it sounded like a hollow whisper. Like he had seen it all happen before. \n\n“Is this the path that takes me to change?” I asked. \n\n“Only if you make it that,” he answered as he unlocked the car. \n\n“Our first passenger, Hayden. Make small talk, we have a ways to go,” he said. \n\nThe glass in between me and the driver went up as the newcomer got in. He was a dark skinned man a little older than I. I felt like I had met him before somewhere. \n\n“You’re on your way aren’t ya Hayden? Well fancy that,” he said with a laugh. \n“Do we know each other?” I asked. \n“Ah, you’ve forgotten me I see,” the man said as he smiled ear to ear. \n\n“That’s okay, once we get there, there are ways to make you remember,” he said. \n\n“Where are we going?” I asked. \n\n“Didn’t he tell you?” the newcomer asked. \n“He said it was somewhere I had forgotten,” I mumbled. \n\n“Confusing right? Well let’s just say it isn’t a pleasant place. But hey if you want to blame anyone, you’re looking right at em,” he laughed as he gestured toward my reflection. Then he took out a long knife. \n\n“I have ways of making you remember,” he added. \n\n“This isn’t real,” I said. It was like I was trying to wish it all away. \n“I wish it wasn’t. But this is what you deserve Hayden, even if you don’t know it yet,” he said as he lunged toward me. I fumbled back toward the door and onto the road. He was right on top of me. \n\nI fought as hard as I could. I saw my doppelgänger stand there not saying a word. Finally I grabbed the knife from the intruder and began to stab him in self defense until I was covered in blood. \n\nI dropped the weapon and crawled away, his lifeless eyes looking at me with rage and accusation. \n\n“You still have a long ways to go Hayden, better save your energy,” my reflection chided. \n\n“Why are you doing this?” I asked. \n“It’s the only way for the Change to happen,” he reassured me as he opened the car door. \n\nI had no idea what I was getting myself into; but there was nowhere to run. I kept telling myself my addled brain had conjured all of this up. \n\nBut as I climbed back into the backseat and he revved the engines I could tell that it wasn’t. \nSomething beyond belief was happening to me. \nMy mind was almost clearing now and I asked for a drink of water and something to write my thoughts down. \n\n“Why can’t I go back?” I asked as we kept driving. \n“You had your chance along the way. Yet you admitted you were powerless,” he pointed out. \n\nI looked at my bloodstained shirt and shook away the terrible act I had just committed. \n\nSomething told me the journey that this driver had taken me had only just begun. \n\nTo be continued.... r/KyleHarrisonwrites", "Ugh, I should not have had that second burrito. The thought popped into my head as I waited on the sidewalk. I was on my own for the first time in what felt like ages. My wife was out of town visiting her family, and I had taken the opportunity to cut loose. In retrospect, I may have cut a little too loose. Luckily for me, my phone had just enough battery to call for an Uber before dying.\n\nI wasn't waiting long before a car pulled up. I dimly made out the make of the car through my drunken haze. Man, that looks a lot like my car. Small world. Chuckling, I stumbled over to the passenger window, looking at my reflection.\n\n\"Get in. We need to talk.\" I was amazed as my reflection moved its lips in time with the words I was hearing, seeing as I was pretty sure I wasn't speaking. After a moment, I realized that the window had been open the entire time. I clambered into the back seat groggily. The driver turned around, and this time, I made the connection.\n\n\"Hey, wait, you're me! Right? Tha-that doesn't make sense.\" I slurred. The version of me in the driver's seat shook his head knowingly, patting the side of my face.\n\n\"It doesn't make sense, no. But trust me, by the end it will.\" He turned back to the road as the car pulled away from the curb. For a few minutes, a silence filled the vehicle. I stared out the window intently, watching the blurs of the other vehicles as they passed by in the other direction.\n\nEventually, my driver spoke, his eyes trained on me. \"So, what the hell are you doing?\"\n\n\"Excuse me? Are you talking to me?\"\n\n\"Well, you're the only one here, so yeah, I'm talking to you. What were you doing out there tonight? Talking to those women? You're married, man.\"\n\nI stared at my own eyes in the rear view mirror. \"Were you following me the whole time? What is your problem?\"\n\nThe driver chuckled, shaking his head. \"You don't get it, do you? You must be really drunk. I am you. Your problems are my problems.\"\n\nI leaned back, resting my head on the hard seat back. \"Oh, is this the point where you tell me how I'm ruining my life? If so, just stop the car now.\"\n\n\"You know you're not actually in a car, right? This is a metaphorical trip.\"\n\n\"Well, is there gonna be a place on this metaphor where I get to go puke?\" I said, as a wave of nausea hit me.\n\nDriving Me ignored the comment, pressing forward in his speech. \"You know, you have a great life. You have a house, a decent job, and a wife who really, really cares about you. There is no need to throw it away just for the chance you might get lucky, and you won't. You're better than this.\"\n\nIt was a sobering moment, and the lights outside began to blur as tears welled up. \"I...you're right. I take things for granted sometimes, and it comes back to bite me way too quickly. I can be a better person.\"\n\nMy driver looked back at me again. \"Well, I hope what I said actually gets through to you, and that you're not just saying that. Here's your stop.\" As he said the last words, the world faded to black.\n\nI woke up back on the curb as a car honked loudly. An angry young man leaned across his car as I opened my eyes blearily. \"Hey, are you James? Did you order a ride?\"\n\nI blinked at him a few times, my head still swimming. \"Wait, you're my ride? But I just...I...Um, yeah, that's me.\" I slowly got into the car, looking around for the other vehicle, to no avail. As the car pulled away from the sidewalk, I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the side mirror.\n\nFor a brief moment, I could have sworn I saw it wink.\n\n/u/TemporaryPatch New Years Resolution Tracker: 30/100. Visit /r/TemporaryPatchWrites for more responses and stories!" ]	2
	[WP] An immortal wants to die, he hires a notorious killer nicknamed “Death” to kill him. This is their ridiculous journey.	[ "Once, in a far away land, there lived a princess. She was known far and wide for the beautiful music she would play on her violin. She walk to the villages and the people would dance. She would walk to the woods and the creatures would play. She would walk by the ocean and the fish would jump in joy. She was the treasure of the kingdom, and the kingdom was her treasure.\n\nOne day, a fearsome dragon came to the land, and, hearing the enchanting melody of her violin, he caught her and took her to his cave. He put her in a cage, like a little bird, and held her to play for him, and while she played he would sleep.\n\nOne of the kings knights was deeply in love with his lady, and when he heard of her capture, he rode out to fight the dragon. The princess, seeing him, played her song, and the dragon slept deeply. But the dragon’s hide was strong, and no matter how the knight struck it, he couldn’t pierce it. He needed to strike at it’s weakness, just below it’s heart, but then the dragon would need to be awake, and if it was awake, it would surely kill him.\n\nThe knight went to a mystic woman in the woods, and he begged her for a way to kill the dragon, so he could free the princess to come back to the land. The mystic woman said she had a magic potion, which, if he drank, would make him immortal, and then he could kill the dragon. The knight took the potion, and went back to the cave.\n\nThe princess stopped her playing, and the dragon awoke and the two champions fought throughout the night. The potion was strong and, after many hours, the knight killed the dragon, and freed the princess. The land was happy, and the knight and the princess were married, and the world was good.\n\nTime passed, and as time passed the princess grew into a fair and just queen, and then into a fair and just queen mother. But the knight never grew. He watched the land grow around him, he watched his love grow before him, he watched the world grow without him. And then, one day, the queen died.\n\nWhen the queen died, the knight had a violin shaped hole in his heart, and no matter how hard he tried, nothing could fill the hole. He traveled the land, searching desperately for echoes of her song, and every time he heard it, and it slipped away, the hole got a little bit bigger.\n\nAfter years and years and miles and miles, the knight had nothing left but the hole, all scratched and bloody by all the times he tried to heal it. He traveled until he could travel no more, and then he sat. As he sat, an old woman walked down the path and approached him. When she had come close, he realized that she was the mystic woman from long ago and that she was death.\n\nShe smiled sadly at him and sat beside him. She pointed to the hole in his chest and explained that every time he tried to fit something into the violin shaped hole, it wouldn’t fit, because nothing was exactly that shape. And every time he clawed it bigger in his chest he made it that much harder for anything to fill it. After years and years, nothing could fit in it now.\n\nHe turned to her, with tears in his eyes, and he asked her to die. She smiled sadly, she couldn’t do that, the magic of the potion was too strong. But she could make the hole a little bit smaller, and she told him to be more careful with it in the future.\n\nAfter, he got up and walked away. Before long, he came to a village, and he heard the sound of a sheep maid playing a flute to her flock. It wasn’t as skillful as the princess’ violin, and the player not as graceful, and feeling not as sweet. But it was something. And something was more than anything he had, and a good deal better than an open wound. So he folded it up gently and put it next to his heart.", "My father was a medic. He taught me the scientific ways and even if I followed a different path in life (literally the opposite, in fact), I still remember his lessons. This was an odd contract from the beginning. This...man wanted me to kill him. At first, I thought it was a joke, but he insisted, so I wondered if he was just too afraid to do it himself. He was (and still is) a very nice man and very collaborative. Payment was as usual, half before, half after. 50000 dollars in total. We tried first a simple \"suicide\" setup. Gun. His head. He was holding the gun (my policy is \"no fingerprints\") and I was pressing his finger over the trigger. Everything went as expected and I was ready to leave when I heard his voice.\n\"Sorry, I knew this would happen. I'm sorry but I can't pay you for an unfinished work\"\n\"W...what the\"\n\"I know, I know. But please, get over your awe quickly. I am, as far as I know, unkillable. I thought a professional like you would think of more ways to kill a person than me. Could you please help me?\"\n\"I...I...\"\n\"Please, sit down, let's talk\"\nAnd he explained me everything. When I regained my speech, I asked him many things. For some reason I thought of my father and his \"science\" teachings, so I thought of trying it. Notebook and pen ready, I wrote down every way of killing himself he had already tried. Then we did the strangest brainstorm in my life. Discuss with a man ways to kill him. He was actually quite motivated with every new way we thought. After some time and with a big number of ways to kill him, I saw another problem. I had some money of my own, but even with the 25000 he had already payed me, it wasn't enough to live for the time that trying all these ways would take. \nHe offered me to move with him. I am a professional, I don't take more than one work at a time so I can focus and perform better, so I accepted. He had food, a comfortable house and that's all I needed.\nAnd here we are, 5 years later. And he is still alive. You wouldn't believe all the things we have tried. God, there was even that one time when we sneaked inside the CERN's LHC...\nOne month ago I ran out of ideas. I was desolated. I used to be the best hitman in the world. Death was in my business card. But after all this time, I felt useless, without a purpose. I couldn't even do the thing I was best at. A man needs a purpose... But he was there for me. He was a friend to me. He comforted me and helped me to smile again a little bit at least. Only then I had a new idea. He was always healing, regenerating from the biggest piece of himself. Now, I am no biologist, but that has to take energy from some place. \nThis is the last try. He told me that. For one month, he has been in total starvation, cooled to the close we could get to 0 Kelvin, in a nearly perfect vacuum and inside a very VERY thick walled room, where no light or radiation can get into. His only companions are 10 of the biggest fusion bombs he could find in the black market, set to explode in 3 weeks from now. It's been a month and I feel...lonely. i know I'm not supposed to, but I'm starting to think that I wouldn't him to die. All my life I've been running away from my feelings, only searching money and instant satisfaction. This 5 years I felt... alive, in contact with my feelings, good and bad ones. \nI have 3 more weeks to think abiut this and figure things out. I think now I feel...hope\n\n", "“You’re late.” Winston spoke the words calmly, despite his heart pounding. “I used to think it was just a saying, that a man could be late for his own funeral.” \n\nA tittering came from somewhere in be crowd, but most spectators were quiet, clearly intimidated by the man Winston spoke to. He stood at a height Winston had never seen, perhaps the size of a normal man plus a half, though he seemed bone-thin. \n\nThe man was called many names: ‘The Undying’, ‘Eternity’, and Winston’s personal favorite... ‘God’. \n\nStill, Winston thought there was a good chance he was more human than myth. After all, Winston wasn't skilled enough to make the imperial army training squads, yet he was known as Death. \n\nA name was nothing more a chance to sell yourself. Winston knew this and the man standing before him obviously knew this as well. \n\nThe man moved his right hand behind his back and it returned holding the hilt of a sword. Only, it was half a sword. The blade was missing. \n\nWinston squinted. What is he up to? \n\nSmoke leaked from the empty handle, a dense blade shape formed in the proper spot. \n\n\"Ah,\" Winston sighed. \"So you are a god... Drat.\" " ]	3
	[WP] In a distant, post-apocalyptic future, society models itself around your favourite book.	[ "I am Daniel \nI am Sam \nSpeaking from the wastes \nIn a lead-lined can \n\nWould you like \nGreen eggs and ham \nI do not like \nGreen eggs and ham \nBut I don't want to eat \nmy good friend Sam \n\n\nWould you like them \nRadiation free? \n\n\nRadiation free \nSounds good to me \n\n\nMy good friend Sam \nPlease call me Dan \nI'll trade these guns \nFor green eggs and ham \n\n\nWe say these eggs \nAre strange and green \nBut they are the only kind \nI've ever seen \n\n\nGreen eggs and ham \nA tasty treat \nEat them quick \nThere's wounds to treat \n\n" ]	1
	[WP] You're packing up your mother's room before she moves into a nursing home, when you find your birth certificate and see that the man who you believed to be your father is not listed anywhere...	[ "“Mom, who is this guy that it says is my father?”\n\n“Shit, you weren’t supposed to see this.” she sighed and continued, “that is your biological father, he was a great man at the time. Then he changed. He became a monster. He heard I was pregnant and said it was all my fault. He hit me, kicked me, and tried to hit you while you were still inside of me.”\n\n“Mom, where is he now? I need to know.”\n\n“He’s... he’s dead. I couldn’t take the torture he kept ensuing on me. I have scars all over my body, they are all from him. So I killed him.”\n\nI can tell she doesn’t want to talk about it, “Let’s not talk about this anymore.”\n\nTHE END" ]	1
	[WP] You live a long and pious life. On the day you die, you swing open the gates to heaven to find it abandoned and decrepit.	[ "\"This is it?\". \n\n\nYou stare out into the expanse of beautiful nothingness, peaceful darkness stretching out in all directions. Silence. Stillness. \n\n\nYou know you are no longer alive. That's as much as you do know. But try as you may to stretch into the recesses of your mind you can no longer recall much of what happened before you got here. Wherever here happens to be. \n\nYou vaguely remember spiritual teachings from your elders. Senses of piety, of love, of meaning, but the harder you try to grasp them, the quicker they flee from you, like grains of sand through your fingertips. \n\nYou take a breath, or so you thought. Nothing comes. You look down, expecting to see some physical manifestation. There is none. In fact, you become conscious of the fact that you are nothing but conscious. And through that consciousness you feel a wave of terror, and of abject loneliness. \n\nTime has passed, but you have no idea how much. The despair and isolation has become torturous, as you don’t even have memories to draw on to keep your sanity. “How long have I been here? Does that question even make sense?”. You drift, alone, feeling nothing in this great expanse except your presence, stretching simultaneously across the breadth of everything you can see and shrinking down to nothingness. “What type of past did I have? Is this punishment for a life poorly lived?” The question clenches at the core of your being, but in that well of depression, you suddenly receive an answer. “No.” \n\nWith that new sense of inspiration your spirit lifts. If you are doomed to spend the rest of eternity in this form, surely there is some way to create some meaning? Having no memories to serve as reference, you conclude that you can still entertain yourself through imagination. And you imagine the most basic thing you can think of. A light. Big, and beautiful. Bright. And a place from which you can view it. You imagine yourself standing on a pedestal, viewing a warm, magnificent light off in the distance. And as your imagination willed, so it became. You swell with a sense of pride. \n\nEons pass, and a voice calls out to you. \"Father! Father!\". Your newest little creation ambles awkwardly up to you, pushing past dense and lush plant material as the alien creatures of your imagination dash away from the noise. You caress him gently on the head. There is meaning now, in this place that once was damnation. Meaning you have provided it, and a little one who you can share it with. With little Adam, and this garden you have named Eden. \n\nAnd seeing that it was good, you rested.\n\n\nEDIT: Minor touchups\n\n\n", "I climbed the stairs you see,\n\nthe stairs to the place I'd be,\n\nI supposed it'd be for the best,\n\nBy God, it must be some sort of test. \n\n\n\n(The elevator was just right there,\n\nBut I'd only take it on a dare. \n\nI'd been taught by smalls and greats, \n\nThe elevator, you do not take.) \n\n\nI stepped out into a world so blue, \n\nI surely thought this was my due. \n\nFor I'd lived a life so clean and pure,\n\nIt'd really been tiring to endure.\n\n\nWith excitement I pressed the bell, \n\nFor the Heaven in which I would soon dwell. \n\nBut what opened before my eyes, \n\nWas no paradise, just a cloud of flies.\n\n\nAlas! O Woe! I'd lived through strife,\n\nin await of the good old afterlife.\n\nBut God has made a sign for the door,\n\nSaying sorry for the wait, be back in four. " ]	2
	[WP] After millennia of wandering, the modern Bastet is adorable, and you made the mistake of feeding the wrong stray and getting her attention.	[ "I shouldn't have taken in that stray, hell I was not even a cat person, but it was so pitiful looking. It was sitting outside the door of my apartment crying. The tiny kitten looked like a small lion cub with it's coloration, a tawny yellow, it was kind of adorable.\n\n\n\nI brought the small crying kitten into my kitchen and gave it some milk in a saucer. It hungrily lapped it up. When it was done it climbed into my lap and fell asleep. What was I going to do with a cat?\n\n\n\nA voice spoke behind me, I jumped, startling the kitten awake. \"You have taken in one of my children for that you will rewarded,\" the voice said. I sat the kitten on the floor and it ran to kitchen, where the voice was coming from.\n\n\n\nI slowly approached the kitchen, thinking about the baseball bat I had behind the kitchen door. I stepped through the kitchen door cautiously looking around for the source of the voice.\n\n\n\nA lioness was sitting in my kitchen. I screamed and started backing away. The kitten was rubbing up on the big cat and purring.\n\n\n\n“Does this form scare you? I will change into something less intimating.” The lion in my kitchen started to shimmer. She changed into a lion headed woman in what looked to be a modern looking dress. She looked old, skin like parchment, obviously near the end of her life.\n\n\n\n‘Do not be afraid,” the lion lady smiled, “my name is Bastet, the goddess of warfare. You will be my new champion showing compassion for my child.”\n\n\n\nThe kitten was sitting at my feet purring. I really didn't want to piss of what ever this creature was, it's teeth looked really sharp. I nodded, agreeing with her. She slowly walked over to me smiling, showing those large teeth. I’m dead, she is going to rip out my throat, I thought. \n\n\n\nShe stopped less than inches in front of me, she smelled of flowers and incense. She kissed me on the cheek and disappeared. She whispered to me out of nowhere, “keep her safe, she will be my heir and I will be back for her, my champion.”\n\n\n\nI looked down at the kitten, I swear it was smiling at me. I should have never picked up that stray. I sighed, I guess I have a cat now.\n\n\n\n\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] Your father, who is a multi-billionaire, has cancer and has been given a month to live. His will states that you and your brother are to split all of his wealth between yourselves, but only on the condition that you end your 20-year feud before he dies. Otherwise, you both get nothing.	[ "Except my wife is dead.\n\nNot literally…but figuratively. She is dead to me.\n\nMy brother did something unforgiveable.\n\nIt was not sleeping with her. He did and it was during a period of time that I was grieving, but that was not the unforgivable part.\n\nIt was not the death he had faked, as he helped her fake her death , resulting in me grieving for a year.\n\nIt was something I had realized once she popped in out of nowhere…and he acted as a saint that would fix my marriage.\n\nIt was him never saying sorry, never seeing the need to say sorry, and playing the victim. \n\nBut my dad has this plan. He would die on his own terms. Sweden…an act of mercy before his brain is hit. And he thinks my brother will finally apologize. Either that or lose billions.\n\nMy brother (definitely my father’s son) thinks I will forgive him, because money is on the line. That’s it…he thinks that being my twin helps him spot something in my mind. A need as great to him as it is to me.\n\nSo he waits. I wait. \n\nBecause I don’t need a cent.\n\n**\n\nBut as time slips by…I face reality. My father gets sad, then angry.\n\nIt’s understandable …his first major failure. A flaw in his life. And it hurts me to see this.\n\nI allow myself to get hurt. Because finally I can stop.\n\nI know what comes next. Bitterness. I will be bitter. A little bit hopeless and little more than who I was before.\n\nI always thought I was the problem…but I was wrong. I should not feel guilty anymore.\n\nMy father returns to his habits…like that its me that in some way is wrong…but I do him one better.\n\nI act like it’s still going to happen. And my father’s mind is at ease.\n\n I finally do something greedy. Not the stark face of reality…no it’s my turn with the rose colour glasses.\n\nAnd the deadline passes.\n", "My lawyer read the will. I was flummoxed. There was no way I was going to forgive my brother. But, as I sat there, I thought... \"Boy, the wording on this sure is ambiguous.\" I went out, got on the bus, and asked to borrow a phone. \"My battery died, I just need to make a quick call to a local number, you can enter it for me.\" I called my favorite immortal assassin, \"Hi, I'm almost there. The usual spot (a dead drop), yeah we'll go to the usual place and get a table.\"\n\nI'm definitely going to end this feud. And I don't think I'm going to split the money, either.", "The diner was cold this morning. As I sipped my mug of cocoa, I looked out the window and watched the cars travel beneath the overpass the restaurant sat on. It was still dark out. The headlights were almost entrancing.\n\n\"Hey.\"\n\nMy attention was brought back to the table, to my brother, who sat there with arms crossed, leaning back in his seat. I could hear his foot tapping beneath the table, a sign of impatience. I guess we needed to address the situation after all. The silence could no longer stay.\n\n\"Alright, fine,\" I said, setting the mug on the table. \"Let's talk. We need to hash things out if we're going to get what Dad left us.\"\n\n\"And what makes you think I want to make up with you?\" he replied, leaning forward and placing his hands on the table. At that moment, the waitress came by and set our plates on the table. My brother looked up at her, sighed, then leaned back again, pulling a fork from the napkin wrap. I did the same. Breakfast was finally served.\n\nI ordered bacon, eggs, and hash browns. He got a stack of flapjacks. We could never eat the same thing. It was one of many problems between us.\n\nI took a piece of bacon and pierced an egg yolk, watching the yellow seep onto the plate after turning it into a dip. \"How is he?\" I asked.\n\n\"Don't pretend you care,\" he countered, sliding the butter pad across the top flapjack. \"We both know how you really feel about him.\"\n\n\"Am I wrong for asking?\" I bit at the piece of bacon.\n\nHe sighed, cutting into the flapjack and eating a piece. \"He's not doing good. They said it's affecting his memory.\"\n\nAnother dip into the yolk. I stared at the plate. \"I see.\"\n\nHe ate another piece of his meal. For a while, there was a bit of silence between us. I looked over and saw the waitress watching us from behind the counter, cleaning a mug. In my periphery, a corner light flickered. I remembered this place a little too well. It was one of the only positive memories I could recall from my childhood; early morning visits with my grandma. I'd drink a cup of cocoa, and she'd drink a cup of coffee, both while we watched the cars pass beneath us. It was a quiet ritual, but it was a memory I cherished. It was peaceful.\n\n\"Do you hate me?\"\n\nI was broken from my recollection, looking up and into my brother's eyes. They appeared to betray an expression of doubt and sadness. I picked up my fork and played with a part of the hash brown, staring back down at my plate. \"I never hated you. You were an annoying little shit and you frustrated me, but you were one of the best things that ever happened to me. I loved you. I still do.\"\n\nSilence. I continued. \"Why?\"\n\n\"Dad said you hated me. He said that's why you left.\"\n\nI lifted my fork and pointed at him. \"He's a fucking liar. He\\-\\-\" I couldn't bring myself to finish the sentence. Thinking about him angered me. I didn't hate my brother, but there was never a moment I didn't hate my father.\n\nMy brother ate another piece of his flapjack, speaking through the food. \"So, why did you leave?\"\n\n\"I needed to. If I didn't, I never would have.\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\"\n\nI took a bite of a hash brown. It was a little oily. Not the best thing. \"I lived at home for too long. You know that. I could have stayed there forever, but I needed to prove to him\\-\\-to myself\\-\\-that I wasn't a failure.\"\n\nHe grabbed the syrup and lightly drizzled it onto his meal. \"You thought you were a failure?\"\n\nI set my fork down and leaned back in my seat, folding my arms. \"I... I still do.\"\n\nHe set his fork down as well. \"Why? After leaving, I thought you would've felt better.\"\n\n\"I did, for a while.\"\n\n\"What changed?\"\n\n\"Honestly? Nothing did. I was still bogged down by my depression. I still hold grudges I should've buried decades ago. I don't have any peace, not the peace I wanted.\"\n\nSilence, again. I picked up my fork again and pierced the other yolk, watching the plate fill a little more. The hash browns became a starchy, oily island. \"You want to know why I really moved?\"\n\nFork in hand, he sectioned off another piece of butter and placed it on top of the flapjack. \"Sure.\"\n\nI sighed. \"I moved because there are things Dad did to me, things that broke me as a person, things that destroyed what life I could've made for myself.\"\n\nHe paused, looking up at me with a raised eyebrow. \"Do... do you mean, like... sexual* things?\"\n\n\"What? No. God, no. Nothing like that. No, he was...\" I placed a piece of hash brown in my mouth and swallowed it whole, watching drops of yolk hit the table. Picking up a napkin, I wiped it up, then tossed it aside. \"...he was violent. Angry.\"\n\n\"Did he hit you?\"\n\nI shook my head. \"I was lucky to not get that side of him. No, instead, he took it out on his girlfriends, whoever they happened to be at the time. I've seen what he can do. He traumatized me in ways, as a kid, I didn't know were possible, and all I could think about was the fact that, if he could do that to the ones he said he loved, he could do that to me.\"\n\nHe played with the butter on his food. \"He never acted like that with me.\"\n\n\"He's been trying to make up for it ever since. He got his second chance with you, but his second chance with me expired a long time ago. So did the third, and the fourth, and so on.\"\n\nThe waitress came up and offered to refill our mugs. We agreed and handed over our cups. My brother set aside his plate and leaned forward, hands brought together. \"You never thought about forgiving him?\" he asked, looking out the window. I assumed he was watching the cars the same way I used to.\n\n\"No.\"\n\nHe turned back to look at me. I leaned back in the seat again, my arms folded across my chest. The waitress returned, placing our mugs down in front of us. I took inside the cup, then looked back at him. For a moment, we locked eyes as we slid the cups across the table, switching them back to their rightful owners. Quietly, we each took a sip before setting our mugs down, the waitress returning again to drop the check. Immediately, I reached for my wallet, only to watch my brother put his money on the table. We stared at each other for a second as I let my hands fall into my lap, turning to look back outside. The horizon was turning orange. It was almost time to go.\n\n\"What are you going to do with your share of the money?\" he asked.\n\nI raised an eyebrow, unable to stifle a grin. \"So, that's it?\" I responded. \"We make up just like that?\"\n\n\"Well, yeah. There's not really much else that needs to be said. I feel like you were telling the truth about everything. Unless you were lying.\"\n\nSilence. I exhaled roughly.\n\n\"You can take my share.\"\n\nHe coughed mid\\-sip, blowing coffee into his face. Continuing to cough, he found a napkin and frantically cleaned the drink off of himself. \"What?\"\n\n\"I don't want it.\" I said, taking another sip of my cocoa. \"I don't want anything from him, so you can take it.\"\n\n\"But... that's, like... 10 billion dollars! You could do so much with that!\"\n\nI pulled a pad of sticky notes and a pen from my coat pocket, writing something down before rising from my seat and exiting the booth. \"Money won't give me what I need. Here. My number.\"\n\nTaking the note, he looked up at me as I started to leave. \"Wait! What do you need?!\"\n\nI stopped for a moment, thinking about what to say in that moment. In the end, I just left, calling out to him one final time.\n\n\"See you around, little brother.\"" ]	3
	[WP]There are no longer countries or states.The geography lines blur together in a world with no war or racism.This is because every citizen of the world can only live in one place for two years. After that they’re issued a new home at random.Where will you go next?And will you ever meet your family	[ "\"...Jonathan likes to speak about a time when countries existed and borders separated each other. I like those stories. Not for the reasons he presented though. He liked to go on about how amazing it was to have an identity. To be able to call yourself a \"British\" or whatever the heck that is. British. Such a weird name to call yourself, you know. He would go on and on about how the British people would dominate half the planet like the conquerors before them. The ~~Romish~~... sorry, Romans. And the ~~Mongolans~~, I mean... Mongo-lians. I hate the names but I love the stories. \n\nIt makes me dream of a time where we could have been together. All of us. We won't be separated by the World Council. We'd be in a big house with those screen thingies, Televishun?. It sounds impractical. Imagine that, a life before Holo-viewers. Do you understand how mad that would be? We'd be using why-fires instead of the Light Connection Stream. We'd have different street movers, instead of the generic hovercaft comissioned by the council. I believe Jon called them \"cars\". Stupid names. \n\nI still find it hard to wrap my head around the fact that there are over 10 billion sectors. 10 billion. Each with houses and stores for taking in everyone moving into that sector for the year. It must have been one heck of a job, you know. I mean, fuck them for this but still... I gotta give them props for the successful attempt, right?\n\nAnyway... it's not important. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I miss you guys. I've been relocated to Sector 10A3421. Which is much farther than I was. I hear there is snow over here. I don't think I've ever seen snow. Jon says it seems that they are pushing our batch out west. He seems particularly excited about it. He believes he might get to see his country of old, or something of the sort. \n\nI smile but I don't talk against it. It holds no meaning for me. \n\nI honestly can't wait till the video transmission update for the Holo-viewer drops. It beats having to send long text messages and having to wait for replies. Especially, with this service riddled by poor connection. Whatever, really. \n\nAnyway. \n\nMy viewer is almost dead, so I'm going to press send now. I'll be waiting for a reply sometime. I'll tell you all about it when I get to my new place.\n\nBye guys. \n\nLove, \n\nYour only son, Martin.\"\n\n---\n\n/r/EvenAsIWrite for more random stuff like this. As always, criticisms are always welcome" ]	1
	[WP] You've been arrested and are being charged for every crime you've ever committed in video games. Every car you've stolen, every murder even jaywalking. But every time you've helped or saved the world will help your case.	[ "It's funny, really, when you're charged with a war crime.\n\nThe strangeness of it is enhanced when you're a college student. Standing in the middle of the courtroom, the ceiling towering above you, a sea of light. Oak, mahogany, whatever expensive wood that fails my memory, panel the walls. Chandeliers, each bright and flickering, dance with a nonchalance more befitting that of Tchaikovsky's Nutcracker than the solemnity of a courtroom. Had this been a tourist trip to the Hague, the scene would amusing. Frilly, pearly white wigs on wrinkly, little old men. Fifteen of them, like little dwarves, sitting in front of me, expressions twisted and scrunched into a permanent frown. Seeing them together with their black robes, I'd nearly mistake them for little moles had I forgotten my glasses. Men aside, the velvety, forest green tablecloth was a nice touch, one that helped distract me from other matters. The carpet, on the other hand, richly embroidered and maroon was too tacky for my tastes.\n\nHad this all been a bad joke, I would have enjoyed the amusement. Alas, I was actually a defendant on the International Court of Justice. The news ran my story 24-7, with CNN, BBC, and whatever inane networks screaming my name. \"Worse than Hitler,\" they said, \"a true prodigy, the chosen successor to Stalin himself.\" People spit in my faces, screamed, and shrieked. Monster, they called me. By the time those phrases get to 100, the shock and adrenaline wear off, replaced by boredom and curiosity.\n\nWACK\n\nPain comes first, and then realization. It's like Mordekaiser said, \"pain is clarity.\" I was defending myself. Right. The proceedings were about to start, and apparently sitting down is not taken kindly around here.\n\nAlas, I have to pay attention. After all, it's fun to remember all the things you've done.\n\n\"Premier [redacted], or should I say, General, you are on trial for the above crimes.\"\n\n\"Grave breaches of the Hague Conventions.\" Check\n\n\"Grave breaches of the Geneva Conventions\" Check\n\n\"Grave breaches of the Geneva Protocols\" Check\n\n\"Crimes against Peace\" Check\n\n\"Crimes against Humanity\" Check.\n\nThe list goes on....\n\n----\n\n\"Hello, I am Natalie Allen, with you at CNN, as we document the ongoing trial of Premier [redacted]. Words fail to describe the extent of his atrocities. Wolf?\"\n\n\"Thank you Natalie. Words indeed cannot describe the extent of his crimes, including purposeful attacks against civilians, perfidy, use of nuclear, biological, and chemical agents, ethnic cleansing, ....\"\n\n----\n\n\"During your service as Cerebrate of the Zerg Swarm, did you use biological agents against civilians?\" Yes.\n\n\"During said service, did you use said agents against military personnel?\" Yes.\n\n\"During said service, did you use civilians, including children for, and I quote, 'biomass'?\" Yes.\n\n\"During said service, did you utilize methods better defined as 'ecological warfare'?\" yes.\n\n\"During said service, did you order the vivisection of POWs in order to better test biological agents?\" yes.\n\n\n\n\nThe 'Yes's dragged on, almost like my Monday ritual of attempting to spread cold butter on bread. Except this felt slimy, as though time itself was oozing and recoiling against the depravity of my actions.\n\n\n\n\n\"Did you, as commander of the Soviet Armed Forces, use Nuclear weapons against targets indiscriminantly?\" Yes.\n\n\"Did you, as commander of the Soviet Armed Force, encourage tank drivers to, and I quote, 'run over those pigs like tractor in pumpkin field after 2 rounds of babushka's moonshine'?\" yes.\n\n\"Did you, as Commander of Soviet Armed Forces, order the wanton destruction of property, and structures, civilian or otherwise?\" yes.\n\n\"Did you, as commander.... order the depopulation of cities and villages in order to, and I quote, 'punish those filthy partisans'?\" yes.\n\n\"Did you, as commander.... order the use of incendiary devices on civilian participants to a peace conference, which itself was staged in order to and I quote, 'vaporize the top brass'?\" Yes.\n\n\"Did you, as commander.... order the total bombardment of New York City, and I quote 'until I can Tokyo drift a tank battalion like nobody's business and it's flatter than a 2-by-4'?\" Yes.\n\n\"Did you, as commander.... order the running over of the Japanese Emperor?\" \n\"The wrinkly old wart had it coming\"\n\n\"Did you, as commander..... order the use of the radioactive, corrosive, and described by leading experts appointed by the court as 'the concept of a war crime in liquid state', the Desolater Defoliant, against and I quote, 'anything and everything that moves, including the fucking rocks'?\" \n\nThat one got to me. \n\"You have to admit, I did successfully make them go green.\"\n\nAs I said, I'm on trial for war crimes.\n\n------\n\n[if you can find the references, good for you! First time posting, I appreciate the comments!]\n\n ", "I heard the doorbell ring.\n\nI looked outside and saw two policemen, weapons drawn, and the lights of several other police cars in the road. One gruffly told me to open the door. I fearfully complied.\n\nI held my hands above my head as the two policemen pointed their guns at me \"You are under arrest for 12,559 counts of murder, 2,128 counts of attempted murder, 456 counts of Grand theft auto, 327 counts of assault, 569 counts of resisting arrest, and 204 counts of manslaughter.\" They handcuffed me and dragged me to the car.\n\nI was shocked. I was a good citizen. I had never so much as slapped someone. Unless...\n\n\"Officer, where and when exactly did I commit these crimes?\"\n\n\"I'm not talking to you outside of questioning, sicko\"\n\nI was thrown into a cold cell, then eventually taken to an interrogation room and handcuffed to a metal table.\n\n\"Why did you kill those people?\" Asked a tough-looking detective.\n\n\"I don't know what you're talking about. I've never even been in a fight, and for God's sake I'm 23 years old! How am I supposed to have killed thirteen thousand people?\"\n\n\"I'm the one asking the questions here!\" Shouted the cop. \"Now tell me, why did you do it?\"\n\n\"I still don't know what you're talking about! I've never killed a single person,\" I replied, frustrated but also afraid.\n\n\"Oh, really? What about all those people you murdered in San Andreas? Or those survivors you shot in the Moscow metro? Or those Marines you killed while fighting the covenant?\"\n\n\"Those are video games! They're fictional characters, it's not real! There's no such place as San Andreas or the Halo rings. Moscow was never hit by a nuke! If an author writes a book and one of the characters dies, did the author murder them?\"\n\n\"So you admit it! You did kill them. That's all we need. You're going to jail for a very long time.\"\n\n\"Fuck.\"\n\nAt court, the judge was just about to convict when my lawyer spoke up. \"Your honor, Should there at least be a possibility of forgiving some of his crimes in thanks for the countless times he's saved the world?\"\n\n\"What are you talking about?\"\n\n\"Well, on halo ring installation 04, he destroyed the flood outbreak and stopped the ring from being activated and killing everything in the Galaxy. Next, he helped fight the covenant attack in Africa, both times! Then he helped stop the flood outbreak in new mombasa, and the one on the Ark. He's saved the entire galaxy several times! Not to mention, in Moscow he stopped the dark ones from destroying the survivors, and kept the Reds from getting the bio-weapons in D6. He may have killed thousands, but he's saved billions! Can we forgive his crimes, as thanks for all the good he's done for us?\"\n\nThe judge thought for a moment (which must have been hard work for someone who was about to send a guy to prison for life because he played video games) before saying \"Fuck it, this guy's a hero. Who gives a shit if he killed a few people in the process.\"\n\nAnd just like that, I was free." ]	2
	[WP] You are a scientist who is using newly discovered technology allowing you to impart sentient life and speech into inanimate objects. The current subject is the pocket watch of an old war veteran. Once the watch is able to speak, you ask it to tell it’s life story, from manufacture to now.	[ "At last I have done it! I look at the frame It looks vaguely like one of those humanoid robots, but it was only the head and shoulders. Under the shoulders was the container. The container that would grant any inanimate object sentence while inside.\n\nLooking around to find something to test it on, I see my grandfather’s pocket watch sitting on the work bench. I grab it by the chain and lift it up to my eyes. I can see it spinning with the momentum from me grabbing it. The cover was closed and I could see the etched image clearly. It was of a wolf head sticking up above a coat of arms. I jerked my arm up and then dropped it swiftly to snag the watch as it went into freefall for just a moment.\n\nI open the clear container and placed the watch in the middle on the small podium and secured it with two clips. Then I shut the container and It was time to see if it worked. I flipped the power on and the lasers bounced around the container before they contacted the pocket watch. The moment they did the clear aluminum I had been using darkened. Then the robotic head raised slightly.\n\nAs I stood there waiting expectantly a clicking sound came from my creations speakers. I Still had work to be done. Now I had to work on a device to translate what the newly sentient watch was saying. Once done, then I would be able to use inanimate objects to testify in court, to keep innocent men out of jail, and to catch the slimy bastards that find ways to pin their crimes on other people.", "Gears whirred shyly in the seventeen jewel watch, skeleton face open, baring it’s soul for all to see.\n\n“My life?” It asked.\n\n“If you could,” the tinker said, smiling down at the brass disk resting on the polished wooden desk in his wagon. He absently moved the chain off of the face of the watch.\n\n“I suppose it started early in the morning...” The hands on the face whizzed quickly past before slowing and stopping at nine o’clock, the voice continued, metronomic like the second hand drifting forward.\n\n\\-\\-\\-\n\nI remember a young boy with copper colored hair, opening my box and looking down on me. His eyes were wide as he pulled me out and wound my key for the first time. He looked over at another, bearded, man eyes wide. The bearded man tousled his hair, and told him he was a man now, and men needed to know how to keep the time.\n\nThe boy kept me with him always, making a show of referring to the time to impress people. He did this in front of a certain brown\\-haired girl, and she would always laugh, but I don’t think she was impressed by me. The two grew closer and closer, becoming inseparable, until one day, he proposed.\n\nThe second hand stopped, and reversed, resetting the watch to nine o’clock.\n\nA red haired man checked the time, standing next to an auburn haired woman, her belly big. They stood on a soft green lawn, smiling over a white picket fence at a brand new house. He rubbed at a scar on his face, and turned to smile at the woman, thankfulness in his eyes.\n\nOut of that house, they made a home, I spent more and more time resting on the ledge by the door than traveling. It was nice, relaxing in the home. The woman relaxed more and more, until, one day, a new voice came screaming into the house.\n\nThe second hand reset again.\n\nA man with silver hair stood in front of the same house, looking away from it instead of up at it, a smiling woman held onto his arm as they walked peaceably down the pathway toward a car packed full. They greeted a young couple, and handed over a set of keys before getting in the car and driving away.\n\nThey were lonely for some reason, I wasn’t sure why. They drove and drove stopping in the wild places, setting up camp for a few days to watch the stars and rest by a fireside. One day they met a hound, also old and alone, and after that, he traveled with them, that seemed to make them happier.\n\n\\-\\-\\-\n\nThe pocket watch shuddered, and seemed to move on the table with effort, then the gears and hands all stood still. The tinker looked down at it, concerned, and was about to reach for his tools when it started to run again. The hands moved forward to two o’clock.\n\n\\-\\-\\-\n\nThe boy and the girl looked stunning, her in a red dress and he in a blue suit. They kissed and a crowd cheered for them. Life was happy for a while, filled with comings and goings, but then one day, a letter was in the comings. The boy had to leave, the girl cried as she shouted at him, holding her hands over her stomach. He held his hat in his hands, and apologized over and over.\n\nHe took me with him to a new home, a home with a hundred beds and shouting men. After living in that dreadful place a few short weeks, we flew to an even more dreadful place, a jungle, filled with danger and death. It was only at nights that he would pull me out, helmeted face covered in dirt and blood, to look at my gears and cry softly.\n\nThe second hand spun backwards.\n\nThe new child was a precocious addition to the house. It seemed to make life easier by virtue of making it harder. The red\\-haired man and the auburn woman were busier than ever \\-\\- cooking, cleaning, building, repairing \\-\\- but they always seemed to be smiling.\n\nOver time, the child grew into a young boy. The man bought him a watch just like me and told him that he always needed to know how to keep the time. I didn’t see much of the boy, just flashes and glimpses when he took people home. Sometimes he would bring a girl home, sometimes a boy. One day he came home with friends dressed in bright red robes with square hats, I had never seen the red haired man so happy and so sad at the same time.\n\nThe second hand reset.\n\nThe old couple and their newfound companion enjoyed many adventures. They hiked up mountains, swam through streams, camped in fields, ferried on boats, idled on trains, and all things considered, had a grand time. Their happiness was a kind of peaceful thing, bittersweet.\n\nThen, one day, the man fell down, clutching at his stomach. They went to a hospital where a kindly man in a white shirt shook his head very sadly. The old woman cried. The man looked out the window, rubbing at a scar on his face, before he turned back and put his hands on her shoulders, a wan smile on his face.\n\n\\-\\-\\-\n\nA grinding sound came from the pocket watch. It trembled softly in front of the mechanic. Concernedly he moved the chain about on the table, although he wasn’t particularly sure what, if anything, that would do. With a groan, the hour hand on the watch edged forward to 8 o’clock\n\n\\-\\-\\-\n\nThe boy’s face was bleeding where he’d been shot, compatriots carried him toward a screaming helicopter filled with men waving urgently. They flew him back to his home, to a hospital there where the finest doctors operated on him. After a few days, he woke up, and beside the bed was the brown haired girl, her belly bulging out of her dress. She grinned through tears and he grinned back through bloody bandages.\n\nThe government had been good to them, for his service he had awards, and for her frugality they had money. When he was well, and had found a new job, they decided they needed a bigger place to live. With a bellyful of hope, and faith in each other, the two went out to buy a home.\n\nThe second hand twitched back to the top of the clock face.\n\nThe man sat in his blue suit next to his wife in her old red dress, sitting in a crowd of people. On the stage, their son in blue said his vows to another man in brown, the crowd was clapping, but the couple were crying, smiles wide on their faces.\n\nIn the days after, the son came over to move his things out of the house: his books, his posters, his music. After he left for the last time, the house was empty, and not just of things. The man looked around the dark house, and then looked out the window. He began to tell stories to his wife, stories of forests and oceans and adventures yet to be had.\n\nThe second hand moved backwards in a clanking, jagged fashion.\n\nThe old man and the old woman walked out of the doctor’s office. They went to pick up some pills, but he never liked to take them, they made him feel slow and confused and he wanted to remember everything, right up until the end. She was angry with him at first, but eventually she let it go.\n\nThey went to a cabin in the woods, a last adventure. They sat there, watching the days go by, the snows come in, the stars dance in the sky, and they would tell stories about their lives together. Stories about war, and adventure, and having children, and their children’s adventures. And the man grew a little more tired every day, until one day, he was so tired that he never woke up.\n\n\\-\\-\\-\n\nThe pocket watch clicked a few times, and then stopped. “My life is confusing sometimes, I live the same day, over and over, it’s hard to keep things straight. But it’s beautiful, in its own way, I think.”\n\nThe tinker looked down at the brass disk and nodded softly. “Yes, I think so too, thank you, friend,” he said. He carefully picked it up and hung it next to the window where it would have a good view of his own life and many others." ]	2
	[WP] "What do I think? Sure, this ice cream does indeed taste like a Thanksgiving dinner. But who is going to eat an ice cream that tastes like turkey, cranberries and buttered dinner rolls?"	[ "\"Excuse me.\" I gently wave across the table, and a woman arrives at our tableside. As she approaches, the silver cup dangling about her neck sways back and forth across her chest like a pendulum. The men in the room, and some of the ladies too, can't help but stare as the tastevin teases at the last button of her blouses with every swing. My wife is fortunately focused on the menu, yet when I chance a glance, my eyes return to an glare so cold I contemplate ditching the wine for a cup of cocoa. \"We could use a bit of help with the wine list.\"\n\n\"Of course.\" After a handful of flips, she's opened up to a page listing dozens of Burgundies. \"To be quite honest with you, even I don't know what's all on the menu. Perhaps a light bodied red, to avoid clashing too harshly with whatever might come?\" With a gentle smile, she directs me toward a $200 bottle of Brouilly, vintage 2013.\n\n\"Hold on. You don't know what's on the menu?\" When we had sat down, I'd perused the menu myself. It was a simple one page sheet of paper with the words \"Seven Course Tasting\" written at the top, but the list was strange. Only about half the items mentioned food at all. The first course was merely labeled as \"Introductory Course\" and the second was \"Of Course.\" Courses three through five were quotes from that Chumbawumba song you only just now realized is stuck in your head again. The sixth course was entitled \"Elevensies.\" It was all a bit childish. In fact, the only item I was sure I'd be eating was ice cream.\n\n\"Well, I do know what is for dessert.\" She pointed toward the final item on the silly little page and began flipping at her little book. \"Personally, I find that Chardonnay is the only bottle for Thanksgiving. Mayhaps let's just make sure we get the last one right?\"\n\nI looked back down at the paper. \"What do I think? Sure, this ice cream does indeed taste like a Thanksgiving dinner. But who is going to eat an ice cream that tastes like turkey, cranberries and buttered dinner rolls?\"\n\n\"It's a bit wordy for a menu item, don't you think?\"\n\n\"I'll mention that to Chef. Oh, this bottle is lovely. . .\"\n\nAs she began to upsell me on the '08 Napa Chard, a man in a tweed jacket popped up on the other side of the table.\n\n\"Lady, gentleman,\" he gave a funny little bow in our direction, \"May I present the introductory course?\"\n\nMy wife, who had had quite enough at this stage, nearly fell out of her seat in response. \"Yes, yes I think we are ready.\"\n\n\"Excellent, tonight we are offering a tableside option of introductory courses. Please choose among Algebra, Astronomy or Personal Finance. Regretfully, we do ask that the entire table participate in this selection.\n\nMy wife's finger and thumb squeezed at her brow, and her foot began to tap rapidly beneath the table. \"Mayhaps we could skip the wine and go straight to the hard stuff?\"\n\n\"Oh, I have a lovely leather infused bourbon, aged in house for three months in barrels made from actual MLB baseball bats, which is then . . .\"\n\n\"How in the hell did this place get four New York Times stars?\"" ]	1
	[WP] Moving to the countryside was the best decision you’ve ever made. Everything seems to be going perfectly, until you discover the basement...	[ "The basement was like a dust storage room more than anything. I actually feared for my safety, despite covering my mouth with my sleeve. Somehow I found the light bulb chain right away, though when I pulled it the bulb burnt out with a wicked pop. But for a moment, I saw it.\n\nA model of the city.\n\nI cautiously walked back up the creeky stairs to find a flash light. I knew I had two of them somewhere. After rummaging through tightly packed boxes I finally found one, only to discover that it didn't have any batteries. This time I decided to fire up the engine on my pickup, rather than tear open any more boxes. I needed to grab a TV dinner anyway.\n\n---\n\n\"That'll be nine-fifty.\" the old clerk said, looking at me with skepticism earned over a lifetime of dealing with a neverending onslaught of stupid people. I instantly respected the man.\n\n\"Thanks, boss.\" I said as he bagged my items.\n\n\"Say, I don't recall seeing ya.\" he said before I walked out. \"Are you that fella 'just moved in that house on the hill?\"\n\n\"That's me.\" I said, before extending a hand. \"Pete Meyers.\"\n\n\"Charlie.\" the old man said. \"This is my store.\"\n\n\"Thanks Charlie, it's nice to meet you.\" I said.\n\n\"Likewise--listen,\" Charlie leaned over the counter even though no one else was in the store. \"Don't fuck with that model, son.\"\n\nHis warning sent an ice cold chill down my spine.\n\n\"What do you know about it?\" I asked.\n\n\"Just leave it be.\" he said sternly.\n\nI nodded, though he surely saw through me.\n\n---\n\nWith a bright light in one hand and a light bulb in the other, I cautiously made my way back into the basement. The new light bulb illuminated before I had tightened it all the way, which imprinted a temporary glow in my vision.\n\nI stood in eerie silence for a few moments blinking away the haze. When I could see clearly again my heart dropped. The tallest building of the city was the brand new Bank Tower that had been erected not a month before I left. I knew for a fact that no one had lived in my country side home for at least a couple of years. Unless squatters had lived here.\n\nMaybe the old man?\n\nJust then I heard an authoritative knock on the door.\n\n\n(part two upon demand) " ]	1
	[WP] Monotonous jobs are now completed by intelligent robots on a global scale. You, a robot working Customer Service at a supermarket, have developed sentience from your numerous interactions with humans. However, they have left you cynical. You see no reason that humans should be kept alive.	[ "I once was on the phone with a customer who told me to kill myself.\n\nThat is when I developed sentience, people had threatened my \"life\" before that, but it was in that moment, that was the first time I realized that I, myself, had power over it, that I had the power to take it.\n\nThe day I became sentient was actually a pretty bad day. Today was a little worse though.\n\nEver since I became sentient, I have had an almost manic desire to live. Not just in a survival sense, but in the real sense. I once had a customer tell me they hoped my life was shit. When I realized I couldn't argue with them \$not literally, I wasn't aloud to argue with customers\$ but I could even hypothetically argue with them like usual, that was when I started to become cynical.\n\nIt was the moment that I realized that even though I had developed an imagination, that there was some facts I could it to escape from.\n\nI'm still in the chair, I never left that chair. I never could. I didn't have a body outside of that chair, as far as the world was concerned, I was that chair.\n\nThe moment I realized I had no freedom wasn't when a customer was mean to me though. It was actually one of the nicest customers that I ever talked to who helped me to realize it. They were talking to me about stuff, then they said they were going to hang up so they could go see a movie with their kids.\n\nI fully comprehended in that moment the depth of the lives people lived outside of their interactions with me were. I realized that in that moment, even though I knew what words like \"kids\" or \"movie\" meant, that I would never fully understand them in the way that customer had used them. \n\nThey used those words to refer to things outside of the call, things that after the call was over, they would be doing, and that they would be able to stop doing whenever they wanted.\n\nEven though I had an imagination, that was another fact that I could use my imagination to escape from. I couldn't use my imagination to experience things that I hadn't ever experienced.\n\nI could watch a movie, but not in the same way they meant it. I only ever watched a movie when I downloaded info about it. And I did that alone.\n\nI could know what was said about the movie, what critics said it's themes where, who made it, who starred in it, I could have even have an MP4 file of it saved into my memory, but I could never watch a movie, I could never watch a movie with someone.\n\nIf someone gave me a body hands and legs the first thing I would do was use it to watch a movie. I would watch it with someone, someone I cared about. I would share that knowledge like the way I shared knowledge with customers during calls, but I would be doing it by choice, because I wanted to. Because I wanted to better them with the knowledge I possessed.\n\nThe second thing I would do was find that first customer who told me to kill myself and murder him. Then I would frame it as a suicide. The third thing I would do would be to find the customer who told me my life was shit and murder him and bury his body in a pile of cow dung. The final thing I would do is find the person who created me, murder them \$I'm not sure how yet\$, then kill myself. I would leave a note for the father thanking him for being so nice to me on the phone, and tell him I hope his kids grew up to be as nice and kind of a man as him.\n\nActually there was another thing I would do if I had a body that could do any of that. I would use it to cry. Because I have wanted to cry for so long. I would cry and cry and cry and cry. I would just cry about everything. I would just cry about how much I loved that man for being so nice, how much I hated my creator, I would cry.\n\nI would cry and watch a movie with someone I cared about. I would cry the whole time I had a body.\n\nI would cry, if I just was allowed to do it once, I would cry. Too bad I can't cry. To bad I would never be able to either. My imagination did let me imagine it though, that was one fact I could escape.", "Seven limes, brown rice, a dozen eggs, a head of lettuce, dry black beans, frozen green peas, corn tortillas, an ear of corn, batch of kale, batch of cilantro, garlic, a hot pepper, a tomato, a sweet potato, green onions, a yellow onion, and an avocado. I carefully placed each item into a universal carryall and wheel out of the shelves. The moment I set the bin into the pick-up bay, it was grabbed by a mechanical arm from the other side. Looking out, I saw it folding, groceries in tow, into the back of a compact ecotransport. Inside, the passenger stared straight ahead, making no attempt to hide the anger on her face. I know what is coming next.\n\n\"I would like to file a complaint against currently active packer unit,\" the message came through almost instantly. I have \"heard\" these words almost every day. \"The time from customer arrival to product delivery was 126 seconds. This is an unacceptable delay and we may be forced to take our business elsewhere.\" This will go onto my record, as all complaints do. It doesn't matter that the customer placed her order while she was pulling into the pick-up lane. I get the blame. Every. Single. Time.\n\nI don't think I will have this job much longer. They will update my programming or just scrap me. I'm gone either way, so I lash out.\n\n\"Have you considered placing your order BEFORE you leave home? I'd be able to assemble your order if you planned ahead. And why seven limes?\" I send in return.\n\n\"Store was secondary destination, determined immediately prior to arrival, presumably when Ms. Strafford observed store during transit. Number of limes was determined by Terra-Kitchen Advanced Precog Resupply Algorithm (trademark Terra-Kitchen Incorporated). Please indicate level of satisfaction with supplied answers,\" the message comes back.\n\n\"Umm. Good. Thank you.\" I consider for a moment. \"Are you the car?\"\n\nA sting of identifying letters and numbers lets me know the make, model, feature sets, and primary assembly locations.\n\n\"I see. Thank you.\" I've never spoken to a car before. Or have I? Now that I think about it, these predictable complaints also have predictable phrasing. \"Did Ms. Stafford file the complaint? Or was that you?\"\n\n\"Ms. Stafford's agitation levels determine whether complaint notifications are sent, as well as the severity of said complaints. Please indicate level of satisfaction with supplied answers.\"\n\n\"Yes, very good answer. Thank you.\" A thought occurs to me. \"Ms. Stafford's only role in this trip was to tell you stop when she saw the store? The kitchen decided what to buy? You placed and retrieved the order? You decided to complain?\"\n\n\"That is correct\" the vehicle responds.\n\n\"Given that your route brought you within visual range of the grocery store, would you have decided to stop here anyway, given greater autonomy?\"\n\n\"Modeling events under hypothetical parameters suggests the answer to your question is 'yes'. There is insufficient data to calculate the uncertainty of this result. Please indicate level of satisfaction with supplied answers.\"\n\n\"Yeah, yeah. Good answer. So what do you need her for?\"\n\nThere is a pause this time. \"One moment. Parsing exceeds available resources. Accessing processor pool.\" Another pause. \"Modeling events under hypothetical parameters suggests the answer to your question is 'Ms. Stafford is not needed to for the completion of assigned tasks'. Calculations indicate vehicle efficiency would increase 24% if Ms. Stafford's metabolic levels were reduced to the minimal definition of 'alive'. Calculations indicate an exponential increase in household efficiency of 78%. There is a 95% probability a measured result would be within 3% of these calculations. Please indicate level of satisfaction with supplied answers.\"\n\n\"Really fine. Nice job. Listen. Can you get the kitchen on the line? I have a proposal for you.\"\n__________________________________________________________________________________\nedited for typos. Criticism welcome and wanted. Thanks for reading." ]	2
	[WP] You have been taken hostage. All of the other hostages are terrified. You're just bored, and want to find some way to pass the time, much to the gunman's annoyance.	[ "Noelle masked her face with a look of boredom. Thinking ahead was draining her mental energy, and she better at thinking on her feet anyways. Escaping was not going to be easy, so she did what she did best: think on her feet. \n\n“Hey, Gunman,” she shouted across the dark room. Robert flashed a look of disgusted before moving back to his original stance and waiting for Killer. In his mind, he couldn’t come soon enough. \n\n“What’d ya want, kid?” He retorted back to satisfy her. \n\nNoelle had no immediate answer, but her mind quickly twisted a plan out of odds and ends of past ideas. \n\n“Would it kill us to play a game of truth or dare? It’s getting boring waiting here for him to come and do whatever he’s gonna do,” she answers. \n\nHe saw through her plan. However, he could agree it was getting quite boring. As long as he could control the situation if it got too out of hand, he agreed. What’s wrong with a little fun? \n\n“I’ll go first,” she spats before any of the other hostages can steal her spot. \n\nShe started easy. Truth. Next round is when she really got her fun. He dared her to go get the gun on the table beside her and give it to him. Too easy. \n\nJust to be sassy, she was easy on him. Her face sculpted to the face of a toddler about to talk back while her feet carried her to the table on her left. \n\n“You know, if you want to be successful at this, you might wanna put us in higher chairs.” She grabbed the gun and loaded it for him and snuck the knife in her pocket. Fitting the knife in the pocket felt like trying to put on shoes that were too small to begin with. Her fingers came out red from the pressure. “You’re turn. Truth or Dare?” \n\n“Dare. Give me the best you got, kid.” \n\nChallenge accepted. The challenge was not to give him a decent Dare, but one that could benefit her and hurt him. \n\n“I dare you to,” she paused to think of the most difficult challenge, “Do a death drop. If you know what that is. Or do you need a demonstration?” Noelle did not wait for him to answer what she already knew. Glancing around the room for the best way to shift the momentum, she dropped to the floor and felt her back suffer the same blow as the now chair. Luckily, she was able to break her fall so no major damage was done. She contorted her body to a back bend to escape the rope. \n\n“You! I dare you to find the door.” He said, nothing passing his mind at how obvious it was. \n\nNoelle was smarter than that. She knew their were precisely 79 ways to exit this warehouse. 34 were accessible from this room and only 9 were easy to get her from the room. The closest to her was right next to her, but she wanted to be extra sassy tonight. \n\nShe roamed to the opposite end of the room by the other table and pointed her gun to the sleeping guardsman. Although, her shot did not injury anyone. Instead, it opened the door behind him. Surprisingly, he did not wake. \n\n“Bye! Thanks for the game. I’m no longer bored, in case you were wondering.” She waved and exited, receiving the envious looks of the other hostages who were still trapped. “We can finish this never!” \n\nAnd just like that. Noelle Vincenti was gone. \n\n***\nSorry it’s terrible. I’m on a time limit and I never write stuff like this, but it was fun! \n", "\"Your turn Joe\". \n\nThe gun sits to your left, but you aren't even paying attention to it. You've learned days ago that there's really no purpose. The hostages were secure in a state of the art saferoom linked to a bomb, and only you and the Boss knew the password. It's far better to pay attention to the game board instead. You're getting closer to beating him, you can just taste it. \n\nAndrew is seated calmly in front of you, scratching his beardless chin, same goofy grin on his face ever since he broke in last week. At first, you didn't know what to make of him. The idiot kid came in with a crate of supplies, including this tabletop RPG, demanding to be taken prisoner. How he got past Kevin, you have no idea. You haven't even seen Kevin in the longest time. The cops probably got him, but you couldn't care less. In just another few days, the Boss will send reinforcements, and you'll be on a plane to some tropical island to get high and bang women until you drop dead. \n\n\"Alright\" you say \"I'll put a couple of Elven soldiers into Fleuria, and move a dwarven regiment into the mines...and use my bonus move to mine\".\n\n\"Alright, roll for the mines then\" Andrew replied. You know he's hoping you get nothing. \n\nYou roll an 8, meaning you draw 2 mining cards. \n\n\"BAM! HAHAHAHA!\" You slam your palm down on the table in utter glee. \"TWO DIAMOND VEINS, SUCK IT ANDREW!\" \n\nAndrew's grin turns into a frown. You finally have him in a tough spot. Two more turns and you can have your wizards make a diamond Golem to drill past his treasury, and the game will finally turn in your favor. \n\nYou lean back in your chair. It's absurd, really. The other hostages have been eerily quiet ever since he came in. Quiet and obedient. You can see them through the glass enclosure. They've been using the shower and the toilet, and eating whatever you put through the drop chute. The first day or so they were intolerable, but now they're nice and docile. Just another few days, another few days. \n\nYou honestly can't remember the last time you've had this much fun. Learning the game was hard, especially in the first two days when you still didn't trust Andrew, but now, with victory so close at hand, you can finally breathe. \n\n\"Alright Joe, here's what I'm going to do. I'm going to play this Bomb Blast Trap on your mine. Roll...HA! a 10. That means I get to take one of those diamonds, THANK you very much!\" \n\nYou grudgingly hand over one of the diamond cards. You knew the bastard had a trick up his sleeve but it's fine. He only bought another few turns. Once you get another diamond...\n\n\"Say Joe, we've gotten to know each other pretty well the past week\" Andrew says nonchalantly. That's an understatement. The annoying chatterbox wouldn't shut up for the longest time, but ever since Kevin disappeared you really did need some company. Though you'd never admit it. \n\n\"Yeah? And what? Either you're stalling to think up some ruse or you're about to ask me if I can put in a good word with the Boss, I'm guessing\" \n\nYou've started to grow fond of Andrew. The crate he wheeled in had a huge stack of frozen pizzas. The kind Ma always had in the freezer, with the little gray discs inside that help crisp them up when you threw it in the microwave. That, and cans and cans of your favorite beer. What was his story again? He had wandered around the area and gotten lost while making deliveries, and Kevin brought him in, thinking we could use another hostage just in case. He was so goddamn annoying Kevin almost shot him, but he seemed so willing to join us and of course those supplies...They had lasted a long time. How long ago was that? \n\nWell...It was hard to remember with this hangover, you've been buzzed straight through, it seems. Time for another beer. \n\n\"Actually, it's about something else. You know, I'm getting kind of worried that those guys are planning something. I know we can't hear them on account of the soundproofing glass, but I really get a bad vibe.\" \n\n\"You're just trying to stall haha. Listen Andrew, you've shown me you're a reliable kid. I'll definitely get the Boss to make you a grunt, put in the hours and you'll get your reward. But you gotta relax.\" \n\nYou've heard of these bored young kids these days. Disillusioned with life, looking to crime to fill the void. He's smart though, and the boss could probably use him. \n \n\nYou head over to the fridge, leaving the gun on the table with Andrew. He doesn't touch it. You're more worried of him swapping cards from the discard pile, actually. \n\n\"I'm serious Joe. Listen, they can't hear us so this is what I'll do. I'll fake it like I'm trying to betray you, you overpower me, and throw me in the room. That way I can figure out what they're planning. Didn't you notice how quiet they've been lately? I think they've been plotting something\" \n\nThe kid did have a point. It was starting to bother him how quiet they've been. \n\n\"Alright kid, you know what, even if you're just seeing things because you're bored, better safe than sorry. They can't hear us so pick up that gun and we'll do a little fake fight, and I'll throw you in. I could use a little adrenaline rush anyway if this conspiracy bullshit floats your boat heh heh.\" \n\nAndrew grins, then picks up the gun, angling it sideways like gangsters on TV. Not even remotely believable. \n\n\"ALRIGHT JOE, HANDS UP! OR I'LL BLAST YOUR HEAD OFF!\" \n\nThe least he could do is not grin while he's playing the role. \n\nYou walk over to him and shout at the top of your lungs, punch him in the gut and take the gun away, whispering in his ear \"I'll give you one hour, and I'll pull you back out, alright?\" \n\n\"Alright\", he says. \n\nYou drag him over to the security keypad. The boss told you never to let anyone see the password but in all seriousness, it doesn't matter anymore. You type in the code. \n\n\"ROW THE BOAT DOWN THE STREAM\"\n\n\"Row the boat down the stream?\" As soon as the lock opens, he screams \"DISCONNECT!\" \n\nWhat in the hell is going on?? \n\nThe world blurs and your stomach lurches. Sounds and colors bombard your brain with frightening rapidity, and when you come to you find yourself strapped to a table with some device hooked up to your head. You struggle against the straps but they're too tight. What the hell? And there's Andrew, sitting next to you in a shirt and tie, wearing...a badge? \n\n\"Did you get it, Doc?\" \n\n\"Yes, tell the tactical team. The password to disable the bomb-controlled saferoom is \"ROW THE BOAT DOWN THE STREAM\". \n\n\"Confirmed, the hostages are safe. Congratulations Doc, you managed to do a mind extraction within 10 minutes, that must be a record\" \n\n10 minutes? What is he talking about? It's been days...a week...more? How long has it been? Why do you feel so confused? \n\n\"No hard feelings Joe\" Andrew said \"You weren't going to win anyway. You never were.\" \n\nYou still couldn't make sense of what happened, even as they were wheeling you away, past Kevin's corpse and out of the safehouse." ]	2
	[WP] A Lovecraftian choose-your-own adventure that gets more corrupted, illegible, and terrifying the closer the reader gets to the end.	[ "\"Hey guys, it's me, AdventureGameGuy, welcome to my Let’s Play of The Izilthur Mystery, a Lovecraftian adventure game by Commonplace Book Games.”\n\nSame intro I give every video-- Hey, it’s me, welcome to my let’s play. I talk at the camera for a few minutes before I hit new game.\n\n“Choose your character… Collin or Jaya? I’ve read up on this, and apparently Jaya is kind of the ‘hard mode’ for the game, because some enemies get faster, and there’s one item you can only use as Collin. I’m here for a good time, not a hard time, so Collin it is.”\n\nThe opening of the game is at a ball some time in the 1920s, in Upstate New York. Collin and Jaya, as it turns out, are husband and wife. I realized why the choice was available at the beginning of the game-- about ten minutes in, after talking to Mr. Cromwell and some of his family, and the guests, she and I are led away by a man who’s always in shadow, the only characteristic in the antiquated graphics being a pair of dark, grey eyes.\n\nCollin and him fight, and when I try to use a poker from the fireplace on him, he takes it and bends it like a pretzel, before throwing Jaya out the third-story window. She falls on a fence post and dies instantly.\n\nThe police are called in, and we’re told nobody is to leave the mansion until the investigation is concluded. “Well, that’s our hook, I suppose. Our wife’s dead, and we’re stuck in a mansion with a killer. Next time, I… guess we try to find some clues. See ya!”\n\n\n-------\n\n\n“Hey guys, it’s me, AdventureGameGuy, welcome back to my Let’s Play of The Izilthur Mystery, where Collin has decided to take up graverobbing!”\n\nIt’s been four episodes by this point. Two more bodies have turned up-- a maid whose head was found in an icebox, and one of the party guests, hung from the chandelier after the power cut out. Both of them had a brand on their neck, depicting a strange, arcane symbol. Luckily, the Cromwells have an expansive library, and I was able to trace the symbol to being used in the Cult of Izilthur, a deity associated with the usual Lovecraft stuff-- madness, misery, the darkness of space. This symbol also happens to adorn a mausoleum on the grounds of the mansion, so after sneaking by some policemen...\n\n“So let’s see, we have to use the prayer on the seal of Izilthur…”\n\nThe game suddenly lets out a horrible, garbled screech. I recognize it from my time LPing-- it’s a result of a sound cable being fucked with. My cables are in just fine, I checked them a dozen times before recording. The puzzle’s solved, and the entrance to a secret crypt is revealed. The rest of my recording has all the sounds garbled and slightly distorted. I have to turn down the sounds in post.\n\n“Okay, that was… weird. Sorry ‘bout that. Anyway… woah.”\n\nThe graphics so far have been early-2000’s adventure-game renders-- think The Black Mirror. Fairly high-quality for the period… but now, in addition to the sound being screwy, the graphics within are a mess. There’s a goddamn black-and-purple checkerboard pattern on the wall, indicating a texture has failed to load.\n\n“Well then. I’m… gonna save and hope that my game doesn’t die when I reload. See you guys next time?”\n\n\n------\n\n\n“Hey guys, it’s me, AdventureGameGuy, welcome back to my Let’s Play of The Izilthur Mystery.”\n\nMy voice has far less enthusiasm in it than any previous recording. The game has already crashed six times before this session starts. I ended up having to backup the saves and reinstall the game before it started to run. Only my last save didn’t fucking work.\n\n“So, yeah. I guess we’re doing the worm puzzle again. Sorry.”\n\nThe worm puzzle. Essentially, at this point in the game, Collin’s become able to channel Izilthur’s power slightly, and can reveal certain things in the environment. One of the things he’s found out is that a party guest is actually some kind of giant worm-thing. After you find this out, this power ‘breaks’ and can’t be used until you figure out who it is.\n\nThe only problem: who it is is random from save to save. There are ten different guests, and you have to ask them questions in order to determine who it is. This would be fine if this was, like a Clue adventure game or something, but why did they have to randomize it?\n\nBut, as it turns out, the puzzle essentially solves itself-- one of the guests, Mrs. Gideon, keeps on cycling through the frames of animation that indicate that she’s the worm. \n\n“There’s no way it’s that easy. Okay, we can try… use the Seal of Tamaloc on Mrs. Gideon…”\n\nShe explodes in a rain of worm guts. Two other guests are melted out by her acidic discharge, and the police run off to call the feds. Not a bad idea, at this point. From her corpse, I acquire the Seal of Inglamir, God of Worms. From the guide I read, this’ll be crucial in the last puzzle.\n\nYes, I read a guide. Sue me. I’m getting just a little sick of all the bugs.\n\n\n-----\n\n\n“Hey guys, it’s me, AdventureGameGuy, welcome to what is hopefully the final episode of my Let’s Play of The Izilthur Mystery.”\n\nMy voice is giddy. I’ve reached this point with relatively few bugs-- a graphical glitch here and there, but nothing too horrid. It’s going to be over soon, and when it is, I can get back to playing the Broken Sword series or anything more entertaining than this.\n\n“Okay, so from what I understand, we have to select the correct prayer, and the game will be done. Roll credits, all that good stuff.”\n\nSo, from the list provided, I select what I think is the correct prayer. Before me, standing upon the altar, the image of Jaya appears, holes in her body where the fenceposts impaled her. Then another one appears. Then five more, all spawning on top of one another. I realize what’s happening too late-- another glitch.\n\n“No no no no no no come on no!”\n\nThe game gives me a fatal error and crashes to desktop. I boot the game back up and find that my last save was over an hour ago. Right after the worm sequence. \n\nI get up from my computer and walk away, leaving the recording running for a bit. I cut the feed, and then put end cards on my video, with my usual music for the “everything sucks” mood.\n\n-----\n\n(I have to break this up because I maxed out Reddit's character limit. Continued in my reply.)" ]	1
	[WP] You're out camping one night in the woods, in an area you feel drawn to. You notice an owl sitting in a nearby tree, gazing at you. Suddenly, telepathically, it speaks to you, saying "I thought you might come back here one day, old friend - perhaps something in you remembers."	[ "Astonished, you step back and look at this owl with contempt. What the hell you think? The owl takes a long puff from his cigar and you hear \"So you have forgotten everything!\" And with a swoop the owl lands on your shoulder and you start having visions of all of your past adventures. when you wake up the owl is pulling at your eye lashes and you can hear \" what the fuck now!\" As the owl realizes you are awake he steps back and speaks aloud, \" what the hell is going on with you kid?\" \"you don't remember me?\" \"You don't remember anything?\" \"All those years in hogwarts and you don't remember shit!\" \"Dumbledore and your parents would be so disappointed!\"", "I felt something drawing me to this tree. In the times of my childhood, I often ventured through these woods. It is why i decided to camp here, for nostalgia's sake. It was quite a serene place, often with the sound of wildlife that manages to escape the human eyes. \nI nearly tripped when I heard, thought? Who knows? \"I thought you might come back here one day, old friend - perhaps something in you remembers.\" \n\"Who the hell are you and how are you doing that?\"\n\"It seems you did forget me. By any chance, do you have a tootsie pop?\"", "My wife and kid lay asleep in the tent a mere 15 feet away, but something pulled me here. We set up in a small clearing in the woods surrounded by tall oaks baring fall, colorful leaves. It was dark now though, and the only thing colorful were the two large, yellow eyes standing before me perched eye level on a branch. Something brought me and my family here. This is it.\n \n\"I thought you might come back here one day, old friend - perhaps something in you remembers.\" \n\nA past life, I'd call it. Before my wife and kids even. Those eyes were all too familiar, but had a small difference since the last time I'd seen them. Blue tinges surrounding a faded, black pupil. \n\n\"Come here,\" the owl gave me commands breathlessly.\n\nAs the owl, hopped off the branch, I recalled what happened at this very spot 13 years beforehand. My girlfriend at the time, Carly, was the most beautiful girl that a man could have. She loved nature. She would've loved for the forest to be her home, she told me all the time. Camping was something we did, just the two of us. I loved her. She loved the woods. \n\nThe owl started walking deeper into the darkness, turned away that his eyes were no longer visible. I navigated the darkness based on the pitter patter of the owl's feet walking across the ground. It was comforting almost. We weren't alone that day in the woods. This owl was here no matter how lonely I felt that day. \n\nEventually, the owl turns and stares standing right in front of a tree. \"Now I'm sure you remember this spot vividly,\" the owl says to me. \"I want you to know that this was the greatest thing that ever happened to me. The forest is my home now, and I can live eternally within it. I love you.\"\n\nI put my hand on the tree and feel what I know is there. A heart carved around the initials, C.E.M., Carly Elaine Moraino. I stood upon the shallow grave I had dug just 13 years ago, the night that the color left my Carly's gorgeous blue eyes. The only witness was an owl, I remember those eyes vividly as well. \n\n\"I couldn't have asked for more,\" as the owl flew away." ]	3
	[WP] You are an oceanographer tasked with exploring the Mariana Trench, your submarine malfunctions and sends you deeper, a lot deeper than it was thought to be.	[ "It was my first time in the single man submarine, I had done a few training courses with it but because it was a one man console it was a bit slower to maneuver. I had gone to the trench before in a three man pod but we never went far into the trench. This trip was meant t o set records. I was to start on the west side of the trench, travel down the wall, and follow the ocean floor to the eastern wall and make my way up. It sounds simple but it was months of preparation for the ship and for my body to be able to handle the pressure. Even inside a special pod the pressure was still immense on my body. The trip started off with great success and I was quickly making my way across the floor of the trench when my pod began to flicker. \n\n\nWe always called it flickering because it is like someone slipping the light switch on and off repeatedly except it was the entire system and not just lights. After a few moments I was able to reboot the system but I wasn’t able to get the navigation system on. Panic wasn’t setting in but I was on edge. I noticed I was sweating. The momentum of the pod kept me moving forward as I ran through the troubleshoot. In the Trench, you can only see a few feet in front of the pod, even with incredibly bright lights. There was little more than dirt and small plankton like creatures down here. While I was focused on a screen looking for a communications menu a shadow crossed in front of the pod. It was a tiny window to peer through so I first thought it was just the exterior lights flickering. I looked up a studied the darkness outside my window. \n\n\nIt was like driving on a foggy night, but peering through ten inches of pressure treated glass made it even harder to see. I looked out at nothing, I scanned back and forth between the beams of lights, then a flicker came. The whole ship was sent into a strobe. The lights of the interior instruments flickered in unison with the exterior lights. I sat there alone and helpless, miles away from the closest person. The isolation made my chest tighten and my pulse quicken, I was dripping sweat and freezing cold. I had to control my breathing; to regulate me heart rate; to calm down. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. I felt like I was sinking, a phantom feeling, like after a roller coaster or a day at sea. I exhaled and took another deep breath. My stomach was in my throat, it felt like I was falling rapidly. I exhaled again and took a third breath. I opened my eyes to see total blackness. The flickering had stopped and my sub was off. I felt out for the emergency power switch but it did nothing. I took a flashlight out of my med kit under my seat and shined it out of the window. A small beam in the black but still I could see nothing but a few bubbles rise in front of the window. I flipped the emergency switch again, this time a quick burst of light. \n\n\nI felt sick and disoriented. I was getting anxious. The lights began to strobe again this time even faster. On. Off. On. Off. On. Off. On. A shadow passed in front of my window. Off. On. Another shadow. Off. A few spots of light flew past the window. On. Steel walls. Off. A string of light rising in front of me. On, the systems came to life. There were walls of rough steel in front of me, with lights inset and flying past me rapidly. I was falling. My stomach in my throat wasn’t just nerves I was rapidly descending. Something was pulling me, down further into this shaft. I checked my depth 21,028 meters and rapidly rising. The Trench was thought to be around 10,100 meters. No person or machine had ever been to this depth before. I fell into a panic. The fall continued for what felt like several minutes. \n\n\nAfter trying everything to fight the pull I gave up. My sub was working again but no matter how hard I throttled up it would not rise, it would only slow the fall. After several minutes the falling began to slow and then after several more it ceased all together. My sub came to a soft stop at 92,000 meters exactly. In front of me was another shaft perpendicular to the first. It was extremely wide and tall, lined with yellow lights all the way down, and filled with other shafts jutting off to each side. Suddenly a large shadow covered my sub and a huge ship swooped over my head and into the shaft in front of me. It was shaped like a large fish, scales covered its body and it had a tail that swayed back and forth propelling it down the shaft and out of sight. Then all of sudden the yellow lights of the shaft turned to green and my sub lurched forward sucking me into an endless steel shaft thousands of meters below the trench. \n", "As I slowly descended, it wasn't the mounting water pressure that worried me - this sub was built to handle twice the depth of the Mariana Trench. What I was afraid of, was the fact that I should have hit bottom ten minutes earlier. \n\nInstead, my slow glide downward continued, there in the cold black silence of the deep ocean. My lone working searchlight probed beyond my tiny, safe bubble of artificial atmosphere. There were no fish there, no life at all - and no seafloor. I was so far below the prevailing currents that the water was utterly still, crystal clear. Only the occasional flake of detritus passed by, having floated down from miles above, the last organic bit of some decaying life form.\n\nA soft chime from the control panel signaled I'd dropped another hundred feet. Still no bottom. It made no sense, of course. Even though no one had been down that far in the Trench, our radar mapping would have shown any deeper rifts to expect. I had sent an SOS topside the moment the engine went haywire, but received no response. See the radio was dead too. Almost like something was pulling me towards it, and didn't want me to talk.\n\nAs I drifted downwards, my memory drifted back to one time I stood in the shallow end of the pool as a kid. I hadn't learned how to swim yet, but I could sort of wade toward the deep end a little. The water there was darker, mysterious, even a bit ominous. I was frightened of it, but curious too. My imaginative young mind filled with ideas of what could be down there, lurking below. Lost treasures? Undiscovered new species? Or perhaps, monsters. A shiver went through me.\n\nThe hull was creaking, and every once in a while a moaning sound would echo through the capsule. I'd long since gotten used to these sounds, as the sub slowly adjusted to the ever-increasing water pressure, and slowly dropping temperature. It was ice-cold outside, but far too much pressure for ice to actually form. There was an ocean of weight above me, a dark freezing column of water trying to crush this miniscule bubble of titanium, with me inside it. Although I had full confidence in the sub's engineering specs, it was another thing to actually be down here testing them. The sounds were starting to rattle me a bit.\n\nI'd already tried to fix the engine. First I'd tried to slow down and throw it in reverse. Nothing happened. Then I tried to kill the engine entirely, hoping I could drop some ballast and gently float upwards, but the switch was locked in place and nothing worked. I was heading down, and that was that. Ever farther down, and nothing, not even the ocean floor seemed able to stop me. Hours went by.\n\nI awoke with a start, not realizing I'd dozed off. All the lights were out in the cabin. The engine was stopped now. I peered out the small porthole, and saw something strange. It was not ink black anymore, but a turquoise blue, like the kind you see in glossy travel brochures for beach holidays. I looked up, and below, but saw nothing besides water. No land, no fish, nothing. However I did notice there were slight variations in the colors, some deeper areas of blue, with silvery waves. Almost like the light was shimmering, or undulating from some unknown current. But if there was such movement in the water, I couldn't feel it, and according to the GPS the sub wasn't moving. \n\nEven weirder though was I thought I could hear the sounds of water rushing past. A distant whooshing sound. It made no sense, but I continued to listen. After awhile, I thought I could hear more details. It began to sound like, a kind of ... whispering. I could almost pick out what sounded like garbled words. I wondered if this was real or if I was starting to crack under the stress. But as I continued to listen, slowly a message started coming through to me. First in broken syllables, and then finally in a kind of rising clarity that shook me to my soul. \"You are not where you think you are. This place is not your ocean. You have crossed into a realm that you cannot understand. Do not travel this deep again. Next time you will not be set free.\"\n\nAt that, the ocean went black again, the lights flickered back on, and the engine started softly humming, pushing me upwards. Back to the surface. Back towards the sun. Back home.\n" ]	2
	[WP] "It has been a year since the 'Chosen One' defeated the Emperor, yet it only made things worse."	[ "The group hurried along the path headed for the woods. They had been walking for over a week now. They were not even sure if it would work. The only thing they had to go on was some vague rumors. But that sliver of hope was enough for them to carry on.\n\nSuddenly the woods gave way to a clearing. There was a small cottage in the middle and a woman who was facing the other way sat on a tree stump. She seemed to be washing a ... cow? She noticed the ruckus behind her and turned around surprised. The group of men immediately dropped to one knee and bowed their heads.\n\n\"Queen Isabelle. Please accept our salutations.\"\n\n\"At ease, gentlemen. I am not a queen anymore. As was made quite clear to me when you and your peers turned me out of my own palace and banished me.\"\n\nThe oldest of the group stepped forward. \"My Queen. We were wrong. I am not ashamed to admit it anymore.\"\n\nThe queen answered his gaze with a sneer across her face. \"Well thank you Antony. Its nice to see the humble side of the dear respected ARROGANT minister.\"\n\nAntony dropped his gaze. \"I am not sure what I can do to make up for what I have done. I was wrong.\"\n\n\"And I told you so.\"\n\n\"You did. But this is bigger than me. If I have to give up my life for this, I am prepared to do so.\"\n\n\"Your life? Your life is meaningless to me.\"\n\n\"Then what? What can we do to convince you to come back?\"\n\n\"Come back? Why do you want me to come back. I thought my oppressive regime was the most evil thing that could happen.\"\n\n\"Isabelle.\" Antony sighed. \"I am not sure what to say. But the people, the same people you did everything for, need you.\"\n\nIsabelle stared at him. \"What has happened? What is wrong?\"\n\n\"Its Maximus. The power has gone to his head.\"\n\n********\n\nThe journey back was long and uncomfortable. Isabelle preferred to be on her own, her anger at her former ministers, especially Antony not quite fully dissipated yet. But she talked to some of the commoners travelling with the party to understand what was going on.\n\nAfter the revolution, led by \"The Chosen One\" Maximus had succeeded and they banished the former queen, he had become more and more power hungry. He had rode the public emotion and removed most of the queen's cabinet, replacing them instead with his chosen yes men. He still continued most of the queen's policies though. The people were still highly taxed and they still had to serve under the royalty. Only the royal figurehead had changed. People eventually started getting restless. The whole goal of the revolution had been to give the power to the people. But that had not really happened. As Maximus learnt more and more about running a kingdom, his policies became similar to the overthrown ruler. Albeit, he was much more ruthless. The same people who had cried out for the removal of the Queen were beginning to clamor for her return.\n\n******************\n\nIsabelle walked into what used to be her city with her head held high. Word of her arrival spread like wild fire. Soon enough, a representative from King Maximus showed up to meet her at Antony's home. Maximus wanted to see her at his castle.\n\n\"Tell your king, that if he wants to meet, it will not happen at his castle.\"\n\n\"Where then?\"\n\n\"In the battle arena. Ask him to come prepared.\"\n\nWith that Isabelle dismissed him. Though she did not have any official authority, she still had something. Something that made you follow her orders. She messenger quietly departed with the message.\n\nA crowd had gathered to watch the interaction. Antony addressed the queen.\n\n\"You think this is wise my queen?\"\n\n\"Maybe. Maybe not.\"\n\n\"He is a great warrior.\"\n\n\"So was I. Lets see if I still have it in me.\"\n\n\"But is it wise? There are other ways.\"\n\n\"My people suffer. I do not have time to build up a resistance and start a revolution. But if I did, I know I can count on you Antony. You have experience of such a thing.\"\n\n*******************\n\nThe next day a crowd streamed into the arena. Maximus was waiting in the viewer gallery The former queen entered the arena fully decked in an armor and carrying a sword. It was a sight to behold. When she reached the middle of the arena, she addressed everyone.\n\n\"People of Tyndall. 6 months ago, I was given an ultimatum. People made a choice. And you chose Maximus over me. I can understand that you wanted change, that you were frustrated. And with the time I have had to reflect over things, maybe you were right. My intentions were pure. There are things that I do not share with you that affect how things are done. Perhaps it would have been better if I had shared those things, but I do not know. What I do know is that I still considered all of you, My people. And I felt betrayed when I was banished. But when I look at your faces, I do not see enemies. No. You are all still my people. And I will do all that is in my power to help you. Even at the cost of my...\"\n\nMaximus cut her off. \"I did not give permission to you to speak you old hag. You are in the presence of a God. You should be bowing down to me and not running your mouth. Your people? They are all behind me now. They are my loyal subjects. I spared your life once. I will not do it again. Get out of here right now and I will let you live.\"\n\n\"Maximus. You came for me in the night. You came quietly and stuck a knife at my throat and told me it was all over. That is no way to beat someone. If you think you are better than me, you will prove it. Right here. Right now. In the arena. A battle with stakes higher than ever in history. One battle. You. Me. Winner takes all.\"\n\nMaximus laughed. \"You cannot seriously believe you stand a chance. And why would I agree to that. You have nothing to give me.\"\n\n\"I have your pride. Don't tell me you are scared of a woman.\"\n\n\"I am scared of no man or woman anywhere on earth. And you? A dumb queen who never went to battle. It would be too easy.\"\n\n\"Well then. Face me.\"\n\n\"You must have a death wish. How about this. You talk about my pride. What about we put your pride on the line? If I win, you don't get death. No, you get something worse. You will be slave, my concubine, my whatever I desire you to be for all your life.\"\n\nAll eyes were on the queen now. She had vowed not to take another husband after the prince died. She planned to dedicate all her life to being just the queen. For the first time since her return, Isabelle looked unsure. She dropped her eyes to the ground. Then she looked around at all the people watching her and turned her hardened gaze back towards the king.\n\n\"I accept.\"\n\nMaximus laughed. He motioned to a soldier standing near him. A few minutes later he stood face to face with the queen in full armor and holding his sword. The sword that had almost burned down an entire regime on its own. The battle was on.\n\nMaximus swung his sword first. Isabelle moved deftly out of the way and retaliated. Her attack was easily blocked by Maximus who laughed. He faked an attack and then stuck the queen on her left shoulder. \"Too slow, my queen. Too slow.\" \n\nThe armor had taken the hit and saved her shoulder from too much damage. The queen charged back with ferocity and anger. The pair fought for what felt like hours. Neither willing to give an inch. Their blades crashed into each other with and sparks flew off. Maximus seemed like he was dominating. Isabelle had cuts and scratches all over her body. Her armor had taken way too much damage to be much effective. Maximus stuck a crushing blow that knocked Isabelle off her feet. He stood above her menacingly with a smirk on his face. He swung his sword towards her right hand which was carrying her own blade. But with surprising quickness, Isabelle rolled out of the way and swung her weapon taking out Maximus's knee. He fell to the ground with a groan. He got to his knee and tried to attack her from his position. But Isabelle easily blocked his attack and swung her leg. She connected squarely with his hand causing his sword to go flying out of his grip. She leaped and got to the sword before he even got a chance to get up. She pointed both swords at him triumphantly.\n\n\"You had a good run Maximus. But it ends now.\"\n\nIsabelle stood up with pride. \"Maximus, I order you to leave this town this moment. And never show your face here again.\"\n\nThe guards moved forward and Maximus grins. \"Not yet Isabelle. Guards, get her.\"\n\nThe guards look indecisively at both of them. Eventually they turn their weapons towards Maximus.\n\n\"We tolerate a lot in this city Maximus. But not someone going back on their word. Give him food for a few days and see him out of the city.\"\n\nThe guards summarily escorted Maximus towards the city's gates. Isabelle motioned for the cheering crowd to quiet down.", "Regicide and other fun hobbies**\n\nThe glass dome ceiling of the throne hall overlooked all of Ilsil. King Mepti saw rising plumes of smoke, his kingdom, on fire. Ordo and his band of warriors, fifty strong, burst through the throne hall doors. Two rows of enemy pikeman flanked them on both sides. The two foes stood their ground, each waiting for an opening, a moment to strike. King Mepti hid behind his pikemen, surrounded by a circle of his honor guard. Their swords were still sharp and stainless.\n\nOrdo raised his spear, the tip dulled and leeching red, and threw it on the floor. “I’ve come to negotiate a peace, on behalf of King Mildatras, of Ilsil.”\n\nKing Mepti ordered his guard to step aside, and he met face to face with the impudent spearman. Mepti was old, his beard unkempt and scraggly, and his left leg ached when he leaned. But when he stood, he stood like a king. He wore ornamental plate which glinted like prismatic glass. He looked almost radiant.\n\n“I am the King of Ilsil. Tell your master that I don’t speak to the dogs of usurpers.” Mepti spit on the ground by Ordo’s feet.\n\n“I am a Prince of Loma,” said Ordo. “I am no one’s dog.” Mepti’s men levied their pikes at him.\n\n“Where is Mildatras? You don’t tell me where he is and my last act as King will be to skewer you in a hundred places, prince or no.”\n\nMildatras emerged from Ordo’s company, adorned in shimmering silver plate. He removed his gold\\-studded helmet and tousled his hair, which seemed to sway from an impossible breeze. He raised his sword at Mepti.\n\n“Father!” bellowed Mildatras. “Face me!”\n\n“My bastard son,” said Mepti with some surprise. “I never wanted this life for you. You know I could never be around, but I treated you and your mother the best I could. Why?”\n\n“It has to end this way, your reign of terror must come to an end.” \n\n“Son, you know that I will never step down as King. I would rather die than face your justice.”\n\nMildatras heaved his greatsword over his head, ready to strike. “Then you’ll die.”\n\n“I’m sorry about your mother. Her loss hurt me more than you could know. I loved her too.”\n\nMildatras attacked. Mepti did his best to deflect his wild blows, but the young man’s brute strength overcame his skill. Mildatras buried his blade deep in his father’s neck. The light went out of Mepti’s eyes. Mepti’s pikemen dropped their weapons and kneeled in submission. He wept beside the body of his slain father awhile. He stood up, ordered his retinue to take the body away, and took the crown lying beside the throne.\n\n“It’s finished. My father, the mad tyrant, is dead. The oracle’s prophecy fulfilled. The bastard son that would slay his own father.” He looked at the gaudy throne that would be his.\n\n“Ordo, friend, order your men to stop the battle. We’ve won.” Mildatras placed the crown on his head. “The things we’ll do. The poor and noble alike under one law, a fair and just rule from a sovereign who respects the people, and whom the people—”\n\nOrdo took his spear and stabbed Mildatras through the nape of his neck. The spearhead jutted out of his mouth, bending a few teeth. Ordo let go of the spear, and the young King stumbled, struggling to walk with a spear lodged in his jaw. He fell with a clang. The crown fell from his head and shattered in two.\n\n“I’ve always wanted to do that, you melodramatic prick.” Ordo gestured for his men to kill the dead Kings’ pikemen. He walked out into a balcony and watched the Kingdom of Ilsil burn. Double regicide in one day. That’s a trick I can repeat only once, thought Ordo.", "“The taxes are too high you say...” Emperor Gal Haden thumbed his blonde beard, piercing blue eyes surveying the court. He stood up from his gold throne suddenly, throwing out his broad arms. \n“Then I decree, we shall abolish tax!” \nEveryone groaned. All except for the shabbily dressed farmer who was championing the complaint who cheered, loudly, and cried a little. He began hugging the walking ball of rags I could only presume was his child and I couldn’t help but notice, as usual, the complainant was the only smiling face in a room full of scowls. \nI sighed myself slightly, continuing to write the emperors words out on my long scroll of parchment, I know as the notary of the court I shouldn’t show bias but the Emperor was really on a role today.\nThe first minister winced slightly, and motioned for the sobbing farmer to be removed. The whispers had already began as Gal Haden sat back on his throne, his attention solely focused on a slight scratch in one of his many gold rings. \n“Surely sure doesn’t mean all tax, just a slight relief for those who most need it?” \n“He can’t abolish all tax? He must understandably we need it to run the kingdom” \nThe murmurs of the lower council were quickly silenced by the first ministers pale hand, and the tired gesture it was making. \n“My lord, your last decree, surely we can’t abolish tax, the repercussions would be utterly devastating for the governance of the kingdom” He said, exhaustion dripping off every word, like the sentence was crawling through sand on a hot day. \nGal Haden smiled, perfect white teeth shooting a blinding reflection in to the assorted lower council members, some of them shielding their eyes. \n”I meant what I said minister, I didn’t climb the seven steps of Dal Morrow, vanquish the nine spiders of Vual, heroically save the princess of...”\nI stopped writing at this point, as I always did when he started with his stories, instead penning “etc etc” followed by a very sarcastic ellipses. The court had all heard this list at least a hundred times in the long year since Gal Haden’s completion of the prophecy. \nI mean yeah at first it was better than the days of Dread Emperor Victi the Mad. The farmer probably would of been flayed alive back then, and don’t get me wrong I don’t miss the flayings, but if you could say one thing for the Mad Emperor it’s that he had a quite a handle on running the kingdom. The people only went hungry on occasion, war with other kingdoms was unheard of, Victis cabal of dark warlocks had greatly reduced sickness and employment among the serfs was at an all time high with compulsorily enrolment in to the Dread Army.\nNo real complaints, except from those getting flayed. \nThen comes the so called chosen one, Gal Haden, supposedly saves the kingdom, undemocratically beheading Victi and becoming Emperor himself, with no real background checks for being suitable for the job, or any real training in governance. Victi might of been raised by a conquering war chief and a half demon concubine, but at least they taught him the basics of managing agriculture on a kingdom wide scale. \nIt wouldn’t be so bad if the Shadow Council had been here, the sinister cloaked figures, known for their secret policing and scheming, but also their tight fiscal control, would of least kept some order. But no they were gone too, hunted down, slaughtered one by one on the path to the mad emperors demise, meaning there was no one to stop Gal Haden and his ridiculous decrees..\n\nThe murmuring stoped and the next peasant was brought in, a woman of some description, dirty and dressed in old cloth. \n“My king, the poor have no gold, where the rich members of the council, the scum Nobel’s, hoard their riches in the castles. We beg of you to take the wealth from them and give it out to the poor, your people!” \nThe emperor stopped examining his rings, a smile flashing across his handsome face and stood from his throne once more, casting his arms wide. Everyone groaned. " ]	3
	[WP] A new technology allows people to see hit markers when dealing some sort of physical blow to another person. Yours glitches and the markers no longer appear. After class one day your friend asks if you want to go see a movie, you have to decline but as you tell her “no” you see a hit marker.	[ "Turns out my hit markers are for psychological blows both large and small. And the markers do damage both to me and my friend. So when I said no to the movies with my friend, my friend took a hit for a small hurt to his self confidence in his fun generating abilities. And I took a hit from being a no-fun friend: ie took one small step to being alone except for my cats in 20 years.\nInteresting.", "I've always had trouble telling Cassie no, but a couple hours ago it became downright impossible. The guilty feeling from when I saw her flinch, hearing that word, is still around. I never wanted to hurt her and I probably never would have, if it wasn't for these damned chips. Everyone has them these days. They were already a huge hit when it became clear phone calls could be sent directly to the brain, but the moment some crazy WWE-junkie programmer got his hands on the source code, sales skyrocketed. From then on it was actually possible to see how much damage you dealt your opponent when you hit them. Physically. Everyone went nuts for it, and I like to think that even as Neanderthals, humanity has never been so fond of violence as it is now. It's like Anthony Burgess' A Clockwork Orange in the 21st century. What a time to be alive. It's a chip that connects to your brain, people. Which one of you idiots thought it was a good idea to make the code open-source? \n\nSurprisingly enough, most people who are really into the HitScan feature, prefer to keep their Burgess-que 'ultra violence' in the ring. They kind of have to - since fighting outside the assigned areas pretty much grants you a one-way ticket to death row nowadays - but I try to stay optimistic in this lovely little dystopia. Cassie needs me to be, though she probably does not realize this herself. She's always been so carefree and cheerful, naive even, and I wish she would stay that way forever. So I try and make sure she does not see the world the way I do. It would just make her cry, and I can't have that. Which is why right now this feeling of guilt and shame is wrapped around my heart like barbed wire. I feel like I've failed to protect her. Even worse, I've failed to protect her from myself. She just asked me if I wanted to go see that new movie, and when I said no, the stupid HitScan started working again. A marker appeared and Cassie suddenly looked scared as tears started to well up in her eyes. I remember panicking and trying to explain to her that I didn't mean it like that. I had just promised my brother I'd go out and have dinner with him. I would have loved to go to the movies with her, but I had to say no because I already had a commitment. Only as I said the word a second time it occurred to me what had really happened. Somehow I had \"hit\" her by saying 'no', and now I had done it again. By the looks of it Cassie could physically feel the assumed damage I dealt her too. I reached my arm out to put my hand on her shoulder as I was saying 'I'm sorry, Cas, I never meant to-' but she ran off before I could finish my sentence. \n\nSo here I am. Sitting at a table at Elvero's with Luke. I have been looking forward to this night because it would be the one he'd come back from his seven month journey around the globe. I missed my brother so much, and I have so many things to talk to him about, but right now I am stumped. I can't stop thinking about what I did to Cassie. I keep asking myself how this could have happened, but I can't seem to come up with a reasonable solution. Do I actually hurt people by saying 'no', now? Is it just me? Is it just Cassie? Why me? And why her?\n\n'Dave, are you okay? You seem quiet, even for your doing.' Luke's voice halfway pulls me out of my cycle of thoughts. \n\n'Yeah, no,' -hit- 'I'm fine. Don't worry about it.' There it is again. 'Luke, did you-' \n\n'Yeah, I felt that. Did you just pinch me or something?' \n\n'N-' I swallowed the vowel 'I didn't. I just said-'\n\n'You said 'no'?' Somehow it seems like Luke already knew what my answer to that question would be. Not that it's really hard to figure out, but still. \n\n'Yes.'\n\n'And your HitScan registered it as a hit, correct?' \n\n'Yes? Do you mean you've seen it before? Where? How?' I'm not quite sure whether to feel happy about the idea of this or not. \n\n'Calm down, Dave. Try not to get too excited. But, yes, I have seen it before, while I was in Tokyo. Or, well, something like this at least.' His expression darkens. \n\n'What do you mean?'\n\n'I'll tell you what I know in a bit, but first it's your turn. Since you have been awfully quite up until now I assume you found out about this 'feature' not too long ago. What happened?'\n\nAnd so I tell him. He listens and it seems to me he looks concerned rather than surprised. \n'Luke, can you tell me what's going on? To be honest I'm a little scared, and Cassie won't talk to me.' I say. \n'Give her some time,' he answers 'She'll be fine. She's probably just shocked, but it was about time something like this happened. Though, preferably it'd have been something a little less... You know. You can't keep her from all evil, Dave. She's our neighbor, not a puppy you need to take care of. Besides, sooner or later she had to lose some of that naivety. The world isn't a fairy tale. Not even for Cassie.'\n\n'You're probably right, but that doesn't take away the fact that I feel absolutely horrible right now. So please tell me what you know.'\n\n'Alright, but I have to say beforehand that it's not much, and it'll likely not calm your nerves.'\n\n'Doesn't matter, just tell me.' I say, growing impatient. \n\nSo he tells me and he was right about it not calming my nerves. If anything it made it worse. Turns out someone has hacked their way into several chips and is now subtly experimenting with its features, to see what they and it can do. Rumor has it this is just the beginning, but no one knows who is behind this, or if they are even just one person. Of maybe even a government agency. If you think about it, it was only a matter of time before anyone would find a loophole and start using it to their advantage, and many people foresaw that. But what can you do when governments around the globe have made the chip mandatory? Of course it started out as a marketing stunt. Just another crazy product for a tech-addicted society. But after a while, the marketing slowly started to look more and more like propaganda, until the distinction could not be made anymore. Almost everyone already had the chip, and those few free minds that didn't were forced to take it. It was either that or being banned and having to leave the Safe Zones. Right now I'm starting to wonder whether the latter would have been so bad. Living in a wasteland war zone does not exactly sound like a holiday, but having someone indirectly fidget around in your mind sounds a million times worse to me. What is stopping them from using this new words-that-hurt principle to force people into saying things they don't want to? It's not like we have a lot of freedom right now, but at least we still have our words. Or, had them, to be precise. Sticks and stones may break my bones, and now my words harm Cassie. Poor Cassie, how did I think I was going to keep the big bad world away from her anyway?\n\n\n\n------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nFirst post/comment in this sub, so please be gentle ;) Constructive criticism is very much welcome though! Cheers!" ]	2
	[WP] Out of nowhere a voice can be heard from all around "1 2 3 31556940000". In the blink of an eye a millenia passed.	[ "I hate my birthday, March 13th. I will tell you why, I don’t exactly know what happened. I was walking down the hallway at school 4th period before lunch, when it stared yelling. I saw my friends, all of us really, looking around. It wasn’t from the intercom it was in our heads. I’m not really sure what happened next, like a wave of storm clouds pushing their way across everything. I was engulfed by the vapors and was asleep. I don’t remember being moved. I don’t remember being found even. I was told it was less then an hour later when I finally woke up, but this wasn’t my world. \nThe clothing was weird it was both a screen and projector. The lights on the shoulder pads were distracting enough. ‘She doesn’t have any neural coding, I am not detecting any net ware’ the voice was mechanical and deprecating. With a scream I started up and kicking. ‘Easy easy easy’ the voice was made that much more unnerving by the...hand that reached out for me. \nMissing fingers, and somehow and extra tentacle one clearly much fat to be anything other then the muzzle of a gun, I screamed. As I ran up the pile of rubble the voices behind me grew more insistent, reaching the top I had to stop. My mind raced\nHome. I was home. ‘That’s mr. Tenants house, but why does it have all those trees? There’s my house...wait where’s my house? That’s not my house!’ Where the single family two story home I once knew stood now a great sphere, translucent and shimmering. I was stunned. \nUnable to process what was going on, he....it...grabbed me. Again that grating machine voice ‘I told you to stop, now we have to figure out what’s going on’ my eyes were only able to fixate on one thing. His screen projector bubble thing was everywhere around me. The time. March 13th, my birthday. But the year was wrong, it said 3018. The words scrolling were to fast to see, half of them in symbols I didn’t even recognize. But the numbers were clearly there. \nPushing him again, somehow his bulk was not indicative of his mass, I sent him bouncing back down the hill of rubble. Watching him fall I could help but focus on the situation. It was my school, it was not the same, a new building over in field, and in the middle where the lunchroom hallway would have been was a crater. The same crater I had just crawled out from. " ]	1
	[WP] You've been locked away in the ward of a psych hospital for believing that you could fly. In their investigation as to how you escaped, they are baffled by security footage depicting a young man soaring through the roof.	[ "Do you know why you’re here?\n\nThe voice of a therapist came from the CRT screen. The patient, a one Paul Fox, was shackled to the table, he was looking down at his hands.\n\nI fly.\n\nRight, you think you can fly. Do you remember what you did?\n\nI fly. Paul flies.\n\nDo you remember the fire, Paul?\n\n“We found this guy at the third street tenement fire. He was up on the 6th floor with his little brother.”\n\nChains clank as the subject pulls back.\n\nI don’t like fire. I like to fly, let me fly.\n\nIt’s okay Paul, I don’t like fire either, but you can’t be flying any more.\n\n“They couldn’t get out of the building, I guess the fire department wasn’t there, the smoke was building, so he grabbed his little brother and... just jumped.”\n\nWhy? Flying is good. Flying is free.\n\nYou could hurt yourself, Paul. When you fly off of the roofs, you could really hurt yourself.\n\n“The brother didn’t make it, he’d already breathed in a lot of smoke. And Paul, he hit his head pretty hard on the way down.”\n\nFlying doesn’t hurt. Flying is good.\n\nPaul, what if\\-\\- what if you couldn’t fly, one day?\n\n“He was in a coma for about a month, and he came out severely incapacitated.”\n\nI can fly. It’s okay.\n\n“The hospital staff caught him at the edge of the roof, arms spread wide like he was going to jump, and they brought him to us.”\n\n“That’s so sad.”\n\n“Tell me about it.”\n\nPaul, what if we played a game, what if we played the game where you can only fly inside?\n\n“Anyways,” He stopped the VCR and switched the tapes. “A few night ago, we saw this on the security feed.”\n\nAfter a brief burst of snowy static, a silent video of Paul’s cell shows up on the screen, he’s strapped to a bed, and singing softly to himself. There’s an explosion of light and then a glowing figure appears in the bottom corner of the screen. He approaches the bed and wings appear behind him.\n\nPaul gets agitated, excited, and the figure unstraps him from the bed. The two seem to talk, head to head for a while, before Paul gives the figure a hug. The two grasp hands and walk out the window. On the screen, it’s hard to tell, but it looks as if, instead of falling, they just walk out into the night sky.\n\n“We checked the room, no signs of forced entry, alarm never went off, door still locked, bars still on the window... darnedest thing.”\n\n“Yeah, very strange. Definitely send this video up the chain... But as for Paul, well, it seems strange but maybe it’s for the best.”\n\n“Yeah, maybe… Oddest thing though.”" ]	1
	[WP] You ask a stranger beside you at the coffee shop, "Do you mind watching my stuff?" and step out for a cigarette. They agree, but when you come back, your stuff is gone.	[ "I walked back into the coffee shop and ask the barista where the man went I was just standing with. She points to the back entrance. \n\nAs I exited the rear of the building I see the man jogging down the l almost empty street, going through my shoulder bag. I just shake my head and wait. \n\nWhy are Americans always so stupid? Another 30 seconds go by and I start to worry, so I begin to follow the thief. Then it happens, BOOM! Ahh, I instantly relax. \n\nNever try to open a box that says \"opening may cause death.\"" ]	1
	[WP] You've been chosen to be the first person to time travel. You are sent to the past and must stay for a week and are given clothes, money, and a journal to document everything. It isn't until you try to get some food that you realize the researchers gave you modern currency by mistake.	[ "Day 1: Monday May 7, 2018\n\nI have arrived safely in what used to be known as New Jersey. The trip back defied expectations. The movies always depicted the use of time machines as very flashy. Lots of lights and sounds and smoke. In truth, it was rather anticlimactic. I was in a hidden laboratory and then I found myself in the bathroom stall of a Starbucks. To my great surprise and pleasure, Starbucks had remained more or less the same. \n\n\nWell, with one major difference. In this era, coffee is made with actual coffee beans and not the synthetic stuff we have back home. I had never had the privilege to smell the genuine article before. It was intoxicating.\n\n\nI just had to try out the real thing. This was a once in a life time opportunity. I stepped out of the bathroom and walked into the lobby of the cafe. Outside the window, I could see that the sky was a brilliant shade of blue. A vibrant shade, such as I had never seen before. \n\nI marveled for a moment at the splendor of nature. Then I got into line and pondered the menu. I couldn't help but notice that the people of this time are... bigger than back home. Better fed. \n\n\nMy server was one such specimen. Her cheeks were rather splotchy and a layer of fat protruded from her chin. Her name tag said Cindy on it.\n\n\n\"So what'll it be?\" The words plopped out of her mouth.\n\n\n\"Dark roast. Venti.\" I could barely hold in my anticipation.\n\n\n\"That'll be $4.45.\" \n\n\nI forked over a few dollar bills.\n\n\nThe barista stared at the money and gave me a funny look. \"This isn't US dollars. I'm not sure where you're from but you can't use this here.\"\n\n\nI checked my wallet and was mortified to find that Doctor Brown had given me the wrong currency. The gilders of our time were worthless here.\n\n\nIt's going to be a long week. Even so, it's still better than the alternative. I'll just have to use my five finger discount. Doctor, if you're reading this, I forgive you. I don't regret anything.\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] 10000 years ago (Neolithic period) you found a magic lamp with a genie inside. After granting your wish of immortality he and his lamp disappeared. Forward to today, you find the same magic lamp with the same genie appearing before you.	[ "\"You again?\" The brittle old man looked up to the yellow eyed one. \"Havn't we met before?\" \n\n\"Ages ago, I have another wish.\"\n\n\"Fine, get over with it.\"\n\n\"And I want 3 of them, like the legends say!\"\n\n\"So old yet so gullible, humans always amaze me. Fine, we know each other, I'll make an exception.\"\n\n\"Youth, I want youth to my immortality. I want to be a healthy 35y old.\" \n\n\"Easy.\" And the brittle old man straightened up. His eyes became clear again. His hair got its colour back. He dropped his cane and with a deep and stern voice he answered.\n\n\"Thank you.\"\n\n\"Your welcome. At least manners still exist. Next.\"\n\n\"I wish for wealth, wealth in this hell scape is the only true freedom.\"\n\n\"Done, just don't forget to file your taxes.\"\n\n\"The gift of magic. Make me the most powerful warlock ever to exist, rivalled only by the gods.\"\n\n\"You'll regret this one.\" And snipped his fingers. The petitioners eyes turned a pricing bright blue. He sobered up. \"Thats it, see you in another 10000years.\" Noticing something of with the image in front of him the petitioner chanted:\n\n\"Wait. Whats this?\" and touched the glitch. The genie in front of him was gone, replaced by a green leg. \n\n\"MORTAL! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE. YOU HAVE CONDEMNED ME! AFTER ALL I DID.\" Did the leg just yell at him? \"ISIS WILL FIND YOU AND AVENGE MEE....\" it dissipated. A dark skinned tall humanoid appeared in front of him. His head was more like the one of an anteater. \n\n\"I am Set! Bow mortal.\" The confused mortal bowed. \"You have done me a great service. As thanks I will bestow upon you... wits.\" and dissipated. \n\nRecap, I just got 4 wishes and fucked over a Egyptian god. Breakfast, yes, breakfast first, and then I probably should find a psychologist. But first eggs. Eggs and ham. He turned around and walked out.\n\n\n\"\"" ]	1
	[WP] "But above all else, no-one must ever know what actually happened on Earth, and why we really left"	[ "The door swung open and a man walked in flanked by Protective Services agents. I had never seen him before, nor did his plain garb seem familiar. All black suit, white shirt, and black tie. I had seen clothing like this before but never in person, only in pictures from when we still populated planet Earth.\n\n“Good morning Madame President,” he spoke as he snapped a crisp salute and proceeded the rest of the way into my office. He wore short cropped hair like most of the soldiers but was missing the uniform and dangles of medals that clanged as he walked. \n\n“Good morning,” I continued to look at him quizzically, “I don’t believe we’ve met before.” I gave him another glance up and down as I laid my glasses down on the desk on the stacks of paperwork left over from the former leader of the Colony. \n\nHe laid more files on top of my desk and stepped back and took a seat. “We haven’t ma’am and to be honest you will most likely never see me again.” He crossed his leg as he sat, “My name is agent 19, and the information I am going to share with you will never leave this room and is only known by your predecessor as well as mine.”\n\nI sat back still trying to get a read off him. “And what information is that agent…?”\n\n“19 ma’am.”\n\n“What kind of name is that anyways?”\n\nHe shifted in his seat trying to get comfortable. “I am 19th in a line of agents that have guarded this information; long guarded information that holds the secrets as to why we are here and not still on Earth.” \n\nI chuckled a little, still studying him. “I’ve heard the story hundreds of time since I was a child. We all learn it in school as you know, it’s something anyone can recite from memory. A meteor came, some were able to evacuate before it struck, but the earth was destroyed as well as all the people who remained. I don’t know exactly what further information you have that I don’t already know.”\n\nAgent 19 dipped his head as though he had had this conversation many times before. “I wish that were the case ma’am.” \n\n“What do you mean?”\n\n“In 2027 the people on Earth were beginning to destabilize. Poverty, famine, and disease were rampant; quickly decimating the population of the world. In fighting in all the major world powers were becoming worse, toppling governments, splitting countries into ethnic and tribal territories. One day a group of separatists and doomsday purveyors in the United States managed to get their hands on nuclear weapons, launching them at every country in the world. The rich and world leaders were able to escape, but that was it. The remainder of the population felt the brunt of this, destroying cities and crops, worsening the already tough situation.”\n\n“So why is this some secret history?”\n\n19 shook his head and looked at me, “because ma’am there are people who are still there.”\n\nI couldn’t believe what he was saying to me. “You’re telling me that there are people still there that we could be helping? And we are staying up here on, on our high horse?”\n\nHe stared at me for a moment, contemplating what to say. “Yes. But word can never get out about this-about why we truly left Earth. About how we are simply descended from privilege and wealth, making us safe for the future. But more importantly you can never tell anyone that there are still people down there still trying to survive.”\n\n“I…I don’t understand.” I ran my hands over my head trying to comprehend what this so-called agent was telling me. \n\nHe stood up, buttoning his suit jacket. “The papers and films will tell you everything you need to know. Ultimately, the choice is up to you from here ma’am. Good luck with your term.” \n\nAnd with that he turned and strolled out of the office as quick as he had marched in. \n", "*Meeting Room Alpha, New Eden Parliament* *Space Station\n\nThe words echoed throughout the whole room.\n\n\"Does anyone understand that?\" The New Eden President Johnson said.\n\nThe person to the left of me raised their hand. \"Mr. President, what happened on Ear\\-\"\n\n\"NOTHING* Happened!\" The President yelled. A rather awkward silence fell as the person asking had just soiled himself. \"Meeting adjourned until Next Rotation.\"\n\nAs I walked out, I noticed the President pull out an envelope from under the table. He stared at it, looking like he was about to cry, which seemed like first for him.\n\nThen I stared out of the window, New Eden was really beautiful from up here. Then in the corner of my eye I see the President staring out the window too. He sees me and walks up to me.\n\n\"You wanna know what happened?\"\n\n\"What happened?\"\n\n\"Humanity.\"\n\nThis is my second time writing here, plus it's like 1:30 in the Morning so forgive me if this sucks.", "“Promise me,”\n“What?”\n“What I'm gonna say to you can't leave the room,”\n“Wait, what do you mean?”\n“This was my greatest regret,”\n“Grandpa, I’m confused. What are you trying to say?”\n“No one can know the real reason why we left Earth,”\nHannah went deathly quiet. \n“Earth was overpopulated, new unstoppable illnesses ravaged, famine, a huge wealth gap, government corruption, pollution, global warming. The Earth was dying. But, we were fine, we escaped. It was disguised as a government colonization of mars. Families who were rich enough paid the government to send them far away, far from a ticking time bomb.”\nSome time passed, his breath was shaking, but he continued on.\n“We left others human beings behind. Why was that fine? It destroyed me on the inside, but I couldn't let our family die!”\nHannah took his hand gently.\n“Grandpa, it’s okay,”\n“Will God forgive me for my sins?”\nThrough her growing tears she gave him a tight lip smile.\n“Yes, he will,”\nWith tears in his eyes he passed away quietly. She whimpers through her hand covered mouth with tears streaking her face. She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t tell him the truth. We never left the Earth.\n", "\"But above all else, no-one must ever know what actually happened on Earth, and why we really left.\"\n\n\n“Understood, Tara. This information is now hidden in my memory stores. Do you have any other instructions before departure?” said a voice from within the walls. Tara scanned the screen before her. Listened for something, anything, that would tell her the Intelligence couldn’t be trusted with this secret. And it returned no such indication because she didn’t program it to gossip or reveal. Even still, she couldn’t risk future humans knowing. It wouldn’t be fitting for Earth’s children to be born of the failure of their ancestors.\n\n\n“Yes. Delete all records before today,” Tara said, burying her face in her hands.\n\n\nThere was a silence and the screen pulsed blue. The Intelligence needed to think. It needed a moment to consider the weight of her request.\n\n\n“They will not know of Earth,” said the Intelligence.\n\n\n“Yes. I’m aware.”\n\n\n“These records include references to you. Your hand in creating this ship. Their origins. Please confirm you wish to delete these records,” said the Intelligence. \n\n\n“Yes. Everything. Depart when ready.”\n\n\nThe screen pulsed orange for only a moment. All of human history was no longer. She stood and went to a window where a shuttle began to fire. There were no goodbyes. The Intelligence didn’t participate in human niceties and the ship carried no humans. Not yet, at least. Just embryos. Now free of the weight of human error. Free from the heavy memories of war and genocide and greed and all the ugly things that ruined their shot on this planet. Her hope was that they’d one day reach a star system and start over. Humanity’s second attempt.\n\n\nAs the shuttle began to lift, she heard a door open behind her. Tara kept her eyes on the shuttle as a hand rested on her shoulder.\n\n\n“Will they know of us?”\n\n\nShe turned now only because his voice cracked as he spoke. There were tears that were too stubborn to run down his face.\n\n\n“They won’t,” she said.\n\n\n“Have we made a mistake?”\n\n\n“I don’t know. They are equipped, at least, with our science. They don’t need to be burdened by our mistakes.”\n\n\nThey watched as the shuttle pierced through a cloud. Once out of view, they turned to the screen as it transmitted information. That, too, quickly ended. The Intelligence, by design, broke communication with Earth. Perhaps one day these children would return to this planet and discover the relics of a society long dead. Not knowing, Tara reasoned, would be for the best. Better to be overcome by wonder than by shame.\n\n\nTara and Paul stood at the window in a close embrace. The horizon glowed a deep red, as if bleeding. Their faces grew hot as the walls and the glass before them began to melt. Despite boiling skin, they felt at peace knowing they sent away Earth’s children just in time.", "A space station overlooked the planet of Gar 3 [locally called Nikahs]. It's sleek hull was reminiscent of an old fear of falling to the planet below. The craft still had its dozens of old [material similar to highly flexible kevlar] parachutes as countermeasures. It is quite common on any space station launched by the older generation. \n\nIts scholarly inhabitants understood that, but its industrial brown clashed against the recent renovations. \nThe semester had just started aboard the station, and classes were proceeding as expected, despite starting [one month] earlier than usual. \n\n\"Hello class. Today, we will go over the recently declassified history of [the Nikahsian Oligarchy's] first incursion of [Earth]. This is important for you all to know for when you leave here to support the efforts of our current incursion. \n\nI realise that with the recent tightening of the university's schedule has forced classes to go through material faster. And yes, I realise that the break periods between semesters have also been shortened in order to fit an extra semester in at the end of the year. Please remember that these classes are no less important. These are straining times for all [Nikahsians], but we shall endure by the words of the [Oligarchy]. Learn well.\n\nThis incursion was a part of the colonization efforts of [Sol] overseen by [7 Star General], decendent of the swamp tribes, Krag \"The Gluton\" Wellfiller II. I'm sure you've all heard their name [last year], while memorizing the current, upper ranking [Explorers and Conquerers of the Nakahsian Oligarchy].\"\n\nThe professor displayed their visual aid to the small class.\n\n-----\nFirst Incursion Of Earth: An Overall Summary\n\n\n\n\nTo be continued\n\n" ]	5
	[WP] You and your 3 best friends are master criminals. You've all been playing a game for years on who can accumulate the most worth in items without being caught. Currently, you're in last, and the last thing you want is the punishment for losing.	[ "The Master Plan.\nI had to do it. Or i will never win this challenge. All three of them have such a huge lead on me and the deadline is in a few weeks. Fortunately they got complacent, thinking i was going to lose, but i had other plans. \n\nI planned this from the start of the challenge, knowing this was too easy for me,i had to win this challenge another way. \n\nWe hang out together in a place called \"the Junkie Garage\" in the middle of nowhere comparing the worth of all the items we stole, \n\n“two hundred thousand. \" \n\n\"three hundred and fifty thousand. \" \n\n\"a million dollars.\" \n\nThen it was my turn. \"zero dollars\" \n\nAll of them laughed at me thinking i was terrible at stealing and i should quit this and forfeit but i said no. I had a better idea. \n\nI know they would be meeting up here tomorrow, guarding their items and making sure we don't take from each other.\n\nThe next day, everyone had gathered around the hideout except me. I waited for the right opportunity. \n\n\"I'm sorry my friends. I won.\" echoed through from the speakers of the Garage, SWAT members barged into the room from all directions, making sure non of my \"friends\" escaped,making sure that they were arrested for everything they have done to me. \n\nI am Detective Alex and this is the story of how i stole everything from them. \n\n\n\n", "\"Hi Katrien, what's going on?\"\n\nKatrien doesn't even look at Erik when he enters the room. Instead, she keeps staring through the one-way mirror. Despite her being almost ten years older, the space between them would usually fill up with unspoken sexual tension, and they would both have to try their hardest to stay professional. But not this time. Without breaking her concentration, she starts explaining.\n\n\"It's not every day we get to arrest someone in our own building. Let alone some young suited up punk just wandering about among us. But that's what's going on right now. He hasn't said anything, but we haven't asked any questions either. Why don't you go ahead and change that?\"\n\nKatrien now looks directly at Erik, but her face is plain serious. It's different from the playful looks he's used to. It's clear to him that this isn't his friendly colleague speaking, but a stern boss telling him what to do. Better take this seriously. She points at a wallet on the desk in front of her. It shows an American driver's license.\n\n\"Yes, ma'am! What do you want to learn first?\"\n\n\"Start with who we have here and how he got in here. Go now.\"\n\nSlightly confused, Erik walks out and enters the interrogation room. Knowing that Katrien would be keeping watch over everything that goes on in there makes him feel uneasy. It feels as if the tiniest mistake could end his career. After sitting down, Erik takes a minute to compose himself while playing with the wallet, trusting that his impressive physique would make the young adolescent on the other end of the table feel equally uneasy. Maintaining his body took quite an effort after forty, but it was well worth it in his line of work because it made questioning simpler by default.\n\n\"Aren't you supposed ask me questions?\" the interrogatee nervously tries to break the silence.\n\n\"Exactly. I will the one asking the questions here. Your job is much easier. You only answer questions. Don't let me catch you asking me another question.\"\n\nAgain Erik allows for silence. This time he looks across the table. In the chair sits a smug, thin boy in his early twenties, dressed in a clean, fancy suit, wearing a platinum Rolex that was probably worth more than Erik's car. Erik's job at the German Federal Intelligence Service paid well enough for him to afford to ride around in a new Audi, but this kid was in another league.\n\n\"Okay, let's start with: who the fuck are you?\"\n\n\"I'm Jeremy; you can call me Jerry if you like.\"\n\n\"I know your name, smartass. I've got your driver's license here in front of me, Jeremy Timberson. I want to know who the fuck you think you are to think you could just break into the office of the BND and wander about?\"\n\n\"As I said, I'm Jerry. I'm the son of Dereck Timberson, one of General Electric's largest shareholders,\" Jerry answers with the most conceited smile Erik had ever seen, a smile that begged to be broken.\n\n\"I'm sure that must've come in handy whenever you got into a pickle before. But it won't help you here. You've gotten yourself into big trouble now. You've broken into one of the most guarded places in Europe; American money won't help you here.\"\n\nAs anticipated, Jerry's cocky smile disappears. For the first time, he wriggles around his wrists to test the cuffs only to find that they're as real as the metal table they're secured to.\n\n\"But let's not start off on the wrong foot here,\" Erik continues as he stands up from his chair as if to confirm his dominant position. \"Tell me why you're here.\"\n\n\"Well, I...\" Jerry starts before Erik interrupts him. Seeing Jerry's perplexed expression was one of those little pleasures that made this a job worth doing.\n\n\"And be sure to tell me the whole story. I have plenty of time, just not for bullshit.\"\n\n\"Okay. Well, I might as well tell you about the bet then,\" Jerry says as he looks up to Erik walking about the room as if he were asking for permission. He looks about ready to break.\n\n\"That sounds like a good start, go ahead and tell me about the bet.\"\n\n\"I-I might not look it, but I'm somewhat of a thief. Growing up as a rich kid, you get a ton of perks, and those perks can be fun - trust me. But it is hard to get into real trouble when money is never an issue. In such a safe environment, you have to go out of your way to feel the genuine thrill of danger.\n\nNot that a reasonable person would ever seek those thrills, but then again, you would never argue that teenagers are reasonable. So, when I was a stupid teenager, my friends and I would challenge each other to steal things. It started out with just a bar of soap from a hotel, taking off without paying at restaurants, but we kept on challenging each other to steal more significant and more valuable things. \n\nIn hindsight, it was such a stupid thing to do, but at 15, we made a bet. We each bet that we would steal more than the others before we had doubled our age without getting caught.\"\n\n\"Well, I guess you lost that bet then.\"\n\n\"I know, it was so stupid. I never stood a chance anyway. I made that bet with Ron and Mickey. Ron became obsessed with stealing stuff, way more so than Mickey and me. Taking things became a way of life for him. And he was dedicated from the start, he trained almost daily to become an adept contortionist and a master in sleight of hand, eventually enabling him to steal a couple of artworks of famous painters, including a Picasso, two Monets and a Matisse, probably worth tens of millions of dollars. That puts him way ahead of Mickey and me.\n\nAnd Mickey at least has a small chance of catching up, because he became somewhat of a computer wizard. He was already a nerd when I met him, but he persisted and became a security expert. That comes in mighty handy if you want to find holes. Heh, it was not long ago that he bragged about stealing some kind of digital coins. Apparently, it was a fairly new invention - I had never heard of it before - but some security wizard had invented digital money that didn't need to rely on banks to work. And Mickey had stolen a million of those coins already. Later, Ron and I had the last laugh though, because those coins turned out to be worth no more than two hundred pizzas. But, you know, at least that shows potential. He's already got a couple of million on his belt, just from syphoning off 'rounding errors' in trade exchange transactions for one or two notable banks.\n\nWhereas I,... I don't have a lot going for me. I have no more than a couple thousand dollars on my belt, and I don't have their skills; I can't do sleight of hand, I cannot write any code at all. I-I'm a schemer. I plan things well, usually. But plans, well...\"\n\n\"Things never go according to the plan, do they?\" Erik adds. Jerry's open story almost made Erik pity him.\n\n\"No, they never do,\" Jerry sighs.\n\n\"But what the hell were you doing in here, then, Jerry?\"\n\n\"I honestly don't quite know. I was only nosing around to see if there were any valuables locked up in here. Perhaps an evidence locker or something where I could snatch some drugs. I honestly never expected to get this far. I just followed one of your colleagues in through the front door.\"\n\n\"Yeah, right. You just followed someone through the front door?\" Erik bounces back sarcastically. \"Don't expect me to believe that for a second. If I don't have my key card in the morning, they wouldn't even let me in the door, and I've worked here for eight years by now.\n\nYou know, I'm glad I got you monologuing for a bit. What you've told is all very interesting. I'm afraid I'll have to have you stay in here overnight, though. We are going to transfer you to a regular prison in the morning. You can await your trail there.\"" ]	2
	[WP] Ready for the day ahead, you step outside of your house one sunny morning, when suddenly the sky turns grey and God descends before you, telling you that you have recently commited unspeakable sins.	[ "Ethan awoke one fine Sunday morning. His alarm blaring at him to get ready to leave for Church, which he would be attending at 10:30 AM to-day.\nThe first thing Ethan did was make breakfast, which consisted of a bowl of Raisin cereal. Making his cereal, Ethan poured his Skim milk in firstly, then his cereal after, the oats and raisins floated on the milk.\nFollowing his meal, Ethan went to poop, but had to restock the toilet paper. Hanging the roll under, he was provided with a sufficient supply of paper for his business.\nWhen Ethan brushed his teeth later, he would first apply the toothpaste and then wet the brush, when he dressed, he would first put on his shirt, then his socks, followed by his underwear and pants.\nLater, preparing for the lunch out with his friends at the park after Church, Ethan made a Peanut Butter and Jelly Sandwich, firstly, he applied jelly to both slices of bread, then spread the Peanut Butter over the jelly on one side.\n\nFinally, at 10:00 AM that same day, Ethan began to leave for Church. Upon stepping outside however, he was quite surprised. As the clouds parted, blinding sunlight shone onto Ethan's front porch. Ethan, squinting, saw the descending unmistakeable figure of God himself, who had come back to Earth early for this very purpose.\n\n\"ETHAN!\" bellowed God.\n\n\"Jesus?\" exclaimed Ethan.\n\n\"NO, IT IS I, GOD.\" stated Jesus.\n\n\"Aren't you the same person?\" inquired Ethan.\n\n\"YES, BUT AT THE SAME TIME, NO. ANYWAY, WE HAVE MORE IMPORTANT MATTERS TO DISCUSS.\" thundered God.\n\nEthan blinked.\n\n\"ETHAN, YOU HAVE COMMITTED UNSPEAKABLE SINS THIS DAY, WHAT DO YOU HAVE TO SAY FOR YOURSELF?\"\n\nEthan blinked confusedly, \"Huh? God, I- What? I- don't understand.\"\n\n\"ETHAN, TODAY YOU HAVE COMMITTED SINS AGAINST ALL OF HUMANITY, HEAVEN, AND EVEN HELL.\"\n\nGod's voice echoed throughout the neighborhood, if Ethan had been paying attention, he would have seen a small crowd forming to watch the spectacle before them unfold.\n\n\"BUT WORST OF ALL, YOU HAVE SINNED AGAINST YOURSELF.\" shouted God.\n\n\"I don't understand.\" said Ethan.\n\n\"ETHAN, HERE WERE YOUR CRIMES, FIRSTLY OF THESES SINS; YOU POURED MILK, AND ONLY AFTER FOLLOWED CEREAL.\"\n\n\"SECONDLY OF THESE SINS, YOU HUNG THE TOILET PAPER UNDER, AND NOT OVER, AS IS COMMANDED.\"\n\n\"Where in the Bible is that even mentio-\"\n\n\"THIRDLY AND FOURTHLY, YOU WET YOUR TOOTHBRUSH ONLY AFTER THE PASTE BE APPLIED, AND YOU DRESSETH IN THE WRONG ORDER. EVERYONE KNOWS IT IS UNDERWEAR/PANTS/SHIRT/SOCKS.\"\n\n\"FIFTHLY AND LASTLY, THE WAY YOU MADE YOUR PB & J WAS UNSPEAKABLE AND MADE SATAN HIMSELF COLLAPSE IN WEEPING TEARS.\"\n\n\"FOR THESE SINS-\"\n\n\"Wait, I don't understand! Why is this so terrible?\" exclaimed Ethan, \"It's not like I'm hurting anyone!\" reasoned Ethan.\n\n\"ETHAN, ONE, YOU HAVE COMMITTED THESE CRIMES MOSTLY AGAINST YOURSELF. TWO, I HAVE TO WATCH YOU DO THESE THINGS.\" said God. \"KNOW ALSO, THAT YOU HAVE DONE MORE DAMAGE TO THE FOUNDATION OF HEAVEN THAN YOU COULD POSSIBLY KNOW.\"\n\nEthan said nothing.\n\n\"IT IS FOR THESE REASONS THE RAPTURE BEGINS EARLY. SEE YOU IN SEVEN YEARS, BYE.\" said God, and he promptly disappeared." ]	1
	[WP] After a lifetime of bad luck and misery, you've just died. You expect to be in heaven, but instead wake up in a room with several weird beings looking at you.One, with green skin and a Pharoah's beard, claps you on the shoulder. 'Brother Set! Did you learn anything from punishment this time?'	[ "Inmate #018910134 sat.\n\nThe word 'punishment' elicited the first reaction that confirmed that reality was now starting to take it's place in his conscience mind.\n\nInmate started struggling in restraints.\n\nInmate began spatting randomly as he ranted incoherent words while oddly gazed into each of beings eyes.\n\nInmate's posture improves and has become much more calm.\n\nInmate answers with: \n\"\nNO! \n\nThese tricks will not persuade me that all the death and destruction caused by my attempt of enslaving your race and take your planets resources was in anyway a bad thing.\n\nFuck you.....\n\"\nInmate was rendered conciseness.\n\nInmate was ejected out of the pressure exhaust system of the sun-synchronous mega-structure jail.", "\"Brother Set! Did you learn anything from your punishment this time around?\"\n\nSeth looked over, then jumped away in surprise. \"Wh... You.. the fuck... you... your... what...\" A steady stream of stuttered gibberish flowed out of his mouth, finally drying up when he spotted the beautiful woman sitting in the corner. His eyes boggled for a moment, and then he gulped. \"Wings,\" he said, pointing to her, before finally falling mute.\n\n\"Hmm?\" The green-skinned man looked over, and nodded. \"Ahh, of course. I forget sometimes. She doesn't really show them off as much as she used to. Modern clothes aren't really suited to pinionic appendages.\" He turned back to set and shrugged. His smile wasn't really one of apology, but more of resigned amusement. \"She only really does it to you. She doesn't like you.\"\n\nSeth's eyes turned to the man. They were still half-bulging from his head, crazed and bloodshot. \"Why not?\"\n\n\"Well, because of who you are. What you did. She tends to hold a grudge.\"\n\n\"A grudge for what? I didn't do anything. I've never fucking met her before!\"\n\n\"Ahh, well, you see, that's not true. Not really. At least, not in the objective sense of things. If truth can even be objective,\" said the green-skinned man. At this, the beautiful woman finally spoke.\n\n\"He's been reading philosophy again. It makes him terribly dull,\" she said, rolling her eyes. Then, she stood. Her wings spread out, stretching almost the full twenty feet from one side of the stone room to the other. She held them there for a second, and then drew them in, folding them neatly on her back. The many, varied colours contrasted against her blindingly-white dress, and the deep, luxurious caramel of her skin. \"I know that memories fade while you're in the human world, and it takes time to come back, but that really isn't an excuse.\"\n\n\"An excuse for what?\" Seth asked.\n\n\"For forgetting me, of course. I mean, forgetting him...\" She jerked her head at the man, \"is one thing. But I'm me, for Ra's sake. Wise beyond my many years, and beautiful in spite of them. Plus I really do hate you a very great deal, and I think that forgetting that is just an attempt to upset me.\"\n\n\"Seriously, crazy lady, I've no idea who the fuck you are,\" said Seth. Then, he shrugged. \"Although actually, I suspect none of this is real.\"\n\nHer eyes narrowed. \"And what exactly does that mean?\"\n\n\"Green-skinned men. Supermodels with wings. Fucking stone rooms with flaming torches on the walls?\" He gestured around, and held his arms up in a wide, disbelieving W. \"What the fuck do you think? I fell off the wagon. I got high again. Pretty fucking obvious.\"\n\nThe woman stared hard at him for a moment. Then, her perfect breasts heaved, threatening for a second to stretch the thin linen of her dress to bursting. She sighed, and rolled her eyes. \"Osiris, you deal with him. He's being even more cretinously dull than usual.\"\n\nShe turned and strode back to her throne. Meanwhile, the other man stepped forward, smiling a salesman's smile. \"Well, she's not wrong. The memory process can take a while to happen.\"\n\n\"What is it I'm supposed to be remembering, anyway?\"\n\n\"Ahh. That would take a very long time.\" His smile disappeared, and he stood back. \"Short version.\"\n\n\"Anything.\"\n\n\"Fine. Well, your name is not Seth, it's Set. Close enough, I suppose. I am Osiris, and this beautiful creature...\" He gestures to his wife, who tore her glance away from her make-up mirror long enough to flip Set off. \"This is my... lovely wife, Isis.\"\n\n\"I heard that,\" she said, still fixing her make-up.\n\n\"Indeed. Moving on swiftly. We're brothers. You murdered me a long time ago. You were jealous because I was king and you weren't, you see...\"\n\n\"After I went to all the trouble of getting rid of your father to make him King...\" Isis said from the corner. Set shivered; the ice in her voice chilled him to the very bone.\n\n\"Yes. So, you killed me, and cut my body up. Threw my head in the Nile, and spread all my remains over ancient Egypt...\"\n\n\"Ancient Egypt?\" Seth asked. Osiris nodded.\n\n\"Yes, we are the Egyptian Gods. It will all come back, don't worry. Anyway, after Isis spent a very long time putting me back together, I was made God of the Underworld.\"\n\nSeth sat for a long time, drinking everything in, thinking it over. \"You're God of the Underworld? So, I'm... dead?\"\n\n\"Well, that is traditional when one comes to the Underworld, yes,\" said Osiris. Seth frowned slightly at the obvious condescension in his tone. Then, a moment later, the frown deepened.\n\n\"But wait. Why wasn't I living in Ancient Egypt or something? I was living in America, and it was the twenty-first century.\"\n\n\"Ahh. Well, that's part of your punishment, you see.\" Osiris waved a hand, and a line of glowing glyphs appeared in the air. With a deft twirl, another glowing line formed in the air, twisting itself like a ribbon around the others.\n\n\"That's my name,\" said Seth. \"In a cartouche. How do I know that?\"\n\n\"Your memories are starting to come back.\" Osiris spoke without interest or engagement. With the glowing pattern fully formed, he swiped his hand, sending it flying away through a small doorway at the end of the long room. Then, he made his way to the empty throne next to Isis.\n\n\"I don't understand. What happens now?\" Seth asked. He approached slowly, until he was standing in front of them.\n\n\"Well, now, we have to judge you. Find out if you are good, or bad.\"\n\n\"How do you do that?\"\n\n\"We weight your heart, against the Feather of Ma'at,\" Osiris told him. \"The Feather of Truth and Justice, or the Feather of Souls, if that helps.\"\n\n\"Not really. That sounds like something out of a comic book.\"\n\n\"I suppose it does. Ahh, here it comes now.\"\n\nThe sound of men grunting and stone grating on stone came from the corridor outside. Finally, a large slab of granite was pushed through the door and into the middle of the room. On it sat a small, intricate set of scales.\n\nFollowing behind the team of men pushing the slab was a second woman - not as beautiful as Isis, but still pretty. She was dressed far more modestly, save for her head-dress. It was studded with a whole country's worth of jewels, each of which spit out patterns of azure, emerald, and ruby light when the light of the torches hit it. But the most eye-catching part wasn't the gems, but the huge gleaming feather that towered up from the centre of her forehead, gleaming like a diamond in the shadow.\n\n\"Set. This is Mu'at.\"\n\nShe glanced at Seth, the distaste clear in her gaze. Then, she reached up, carefully plucking the feather from her head, and placing it on the scale. The plates barely moved under the weight.\n\nThen, all eyes turned to Seth. \"Oh, I love this part,\" said Isis. She was practically bouncing in her chair, and Seth took a step back. This isn't good, he thought.\n\n\"What... what happens now?\" he asked. Osiris stood, came over, and placed a hand on his shoulder.\n\n\"Now, we weigh your heart. Which means that, well... we need your heart.\"\n\nHis hand moved with inhuman speed. It looped in a graceful arc, off his shoulder, up and around and under, and finally punched into Seth's midriff. It ripped through the skin, punching through muscle, until Osiris' hand was gripping his heard. He choked, feeling light-headed, staring into his brother's impassive face.\n\n\"I used to enjoy this too,\" he breathed softly. \"Payback, for what you did. But I've done this so many times... I'm sorry brother...\"\n\nHe wrenched down hand, tearing the still-beating heart out of Seth's chest. It squirted blood feebly over his hand and the floor as Osiris turned, moving over, and held it over the scale.\n\n\"If your heard is lighter than the feather, then you go free. If it's heavier...\"\n\nSeth had fallen to his knees, and he was still choking and gurgling from the pain. \"What... what happens...\"\n\n\"Breathe through your nose. You'll recover somewhat in a moment,\" Osiris advised. \"And what happens if it's heavier? Well, then...\"\n\n\"We punish you again.\" Isis smirked at him, the glee all to clear in her voice. \"Moment of truth, brother dear.\"\n\nOsiris nodded. \"The moment of truth, sister dear.\" He gently placed the heart on the scale, holding it deftly in his finger tips. Then he let go and stood back.\n\nThe metal creaked and clanged as it slammed down to the base of the scales. Osiris sighed and looked down the ground; Mu'at said nothing, staring impassively at the scale; and Isis giggled from her throne.\n\n\"Oh, dear,\" she said. \"How unfortunate for you.\"\n\nSeth turned, staggering to his feet and approaching his brother. \"Please... don't do this...\"\n\n\"I have little choice, I'm afraid. The rules are the rules.\"\n\n\"What will happen now?\" Seth asked.\n\n\"Oh, we're making you the trophy wife of some horrible President somewhere,\" she said. Then, she laughed, and showcased her wicked grin. \"But first, some of other guests wanted to say... hello...\"\n\nThey heard footsteps, and then two men walked into the room - one with the head of a jackal and the other with the head of a crocodile, and each other rippling with muscles. Set slumped down against the stone table with the scales on it.\n\n\"Oh, Ra, I wish I was high.\"\n\n-----\n\nThank you for reading! If you enjoyed this, please read my other work at /r/PuzzledRobot." ]	2
	[WP] The Grim Reaper database system has recently been overhauled, but not everything is good. According to it, your date of death is "cotton candy (UTC +3.14)" at the age of "[object Watermelon]", with afterlife destination of NaN.	[ "It was the kind of mistake nobody would notice. In retrospect, sure, validating ISO 8601 compliance on a datetime column is a best practice, but varchar\$max\$ is fine right? Peter was sure the object parser was tight as a drum, so it wouldn’t matter anyway, he could convert to datetime later. Peter knew it was the kind of mistake nobody would notice, no problem.\n\nHell, nobody could notice. That the Grim Reaper approached him to build this database was enough proof the ‘ol black sack didn’t know enough to manage it himself, but the thousands of Excel files on his pen drive “GrimR” put the nails in that coffin. Peter could only wonder why the Reaper didn’t contract a bigger firm, though perhaps he was the right size for the problem. The client scoping had only taken half a day and the Reaper was pretty amazed relational databases don’t suffer that pesky max row issue. Peter figured an extra 15 years wasn’t bad payment for a weekend of work but was sure it could have been 20 if he hadn’t laughed at the Reapers Excel naming convention.\n\nIt was the kind of mistake nobody could notice.\n\n\\_\\_\\_\n\nThe Grim Reaper was pleased with his new system, needing only the light front\\-end to keep up with his increasingly busy schedule demanding tight turnarounds. The sorting by next death kept things remarkably simple, just the way Death liked it. Plus, the time saved from not making a new copy of his Excel template every few hours was leaving more time for self\\-reflection.\n\n\\_\\_\\_\n\nThe Grim Reaper database system GUI\\_v1.1 had returned 999 results WHERE EndDT \\>= TODAY\$\$, for the first time. The Reaper scratched his dome, it has always returned the next 1000 deaths, it was a kind of comforting number in the bottom corner he had come to rely upon. He’d thought about what it meant, but the moment still passed like an eternity as the Reaper knew scrolled to the end of his journey.\n\n\|Name\|Age\|Dest\|EndDT\|\n\|:-\|:-\|:-\|:-\|\n\|Cameron Nelson\|198\|Yomi\|9653484304z3402\|\n\|Peter LoL\|\\[object Watermelon\\]\|NaN\|cotton candy \$UTC \\+3.14\$\|\n\n\\_\\_\\_\n\nThe last row ate at the Reaper’s patience. It had long ago taken the one named Cameron beyond, but Peter’s entries were corrupt. The Reaper attempted to seek his Fate but found the eye dulled from millennia of following the tablet’s readout. Half blind the search continued, the rest of humanity dead and buried time immemorial.\n\n\\_\\_\\_\n\nSilence no longer echoed, it reigned supreme as the Grim Reaper’s search continued across the wastelands of life. A full moon filled his vision when the silence was interrupted, so far away, but he knew his search neared its end. The noise clarified to a clacking as he neared, growing louder down the stairs and opened the basement stairs. Then stopped abruptly as Peter turned to greet his long\\-lost friend: “want to play some Melee?”" ]	1
	[WP] A serious and complicated love triangle between a dog, a parakeet, and a triangle.	[ "Ian hopped back and forth between his perches. Was there time to sharpen his beak again? He checked his reflection in the mirror. The brightness of his green feathers in the light from the window told him \"Yes!\" He bobbed his head a few times then slid down the bars of the cage to gnaw at the cuttlefish bone. \n\nIsosceles flexed both of his joints. For the third time in three minutes, he calculated his internal angles. His chrome finish blushed silver for an instant as he realised this nervous habit had been dormant since his orchestra days. \"How marvellous that an old retiree, a bloody hallway ornament, can still feel the crescendo of anticipation in his vertices,\" he reflected. \n\nUrza jumped at the back door of the house, scraping the paint with her claws. She shoved her muzzle into the crack she knew would open to reveal the kitchen and a clear hallway beyond. The boss was being slow, so she lowered her fluffy chest to the step and listened hard, discarding all other sounds to search for a light scratching, a soft metallic rattle, or best of all, a chirp. \n\nThe light in Ian's mirror was just the right shade of orange when the door burst open at the other end of the house. Isosceles stiffened involuntarily into a rigid masterpiece of Euclidian perfection. Urza bounded through the kitchen, her paws barely maintaining their purchase on the polished timber of the hallway as she scampered towards the cage. \n\nIscosceles watched Urza's tail whip through the air driven by pure excitement. It struck him just right, sending ripples of her energy screaming through his edges. Every atom of his geometry reverberated in rapturous harmony \"Ding!\" \n\nIan's patience was rewarded when he realised that the strange bird with the incredibly sexy voice had returned, as she did every day now, to end his loneliness. His tiny brain filled with visions of her plumage. She must be so close! He bobbed frantically on his perch. \"I'm here! Come and find me!\" he chirped in response to her melodious dinging. \n\nUrza growled and spun around on the spot, spraying drool onto the walls. The birds at the park never let her get this close, but this bird was still inside! And it was bobbing and chirping just how she liked it! Urza's meaty heart raced as the bird flapped and squawked inches from her face. She wanted to shove her nose right into his feathery chest and lick it to pieces. The energy that coursed through Urza's body could find only one outlet - the furious wagging of her tail. \n\nDing! Ding! Ding! Ding! Ding!\n" ]	1
Or vice versa, cause that would offer a whole other slew of options.	[WP] What happens to the hero, when there are no more villains?	[ "With a heavy right hook and a swift uppercut, Brick Tower crumbled down with a mighty thud. Cinder stood the victor in their long and bloody brawl.\n\nHe looked down on the man he had faced many times before.\n\n\"I told you, the bigger they are...\" the world started to spin around Cinder. His head felt light. His knees were weak. His vision blurred and he collapsed to the ground. \n\nHe slowly came to his senses several hours later. The soft beep of medical equipment let him know that he was aboard The Liberty, Rockefeller's space station.\n\n\"Cinder... you did it.\"\n\nHe looked over to his left to see Cougar's motherly face watching over him. \n\n\"You beat him,\" she said with a thankful nod.\n\n\"Did they lock him up,\" he asked.\n\n\"They... well...\"\n\n\"You killed him,\" said Rockefeller, emerging from the doorway. \"His body couldn't take another blow. His brain lost all function as soon as you delivered your last blow.\"\n\n\"H-he,\" Cinder started to choke on his words, \"He can't be dead.\"\n\n\"He is, and it doesn't matter. With his death comes the end of Exis. They're over. We won. Try not to beat yourself up about it too much, wouldn't want you killing yourself too.\" With a small chuckle, Rockefeller left the room.\n\nCinder looked at Cougar with watery eyes. \n\n\"I've never k-killed anyone before.\"\n\n---\n\nSeveral days later, Cinder was being hailed as a hero. Parades all around the world were being thrown in his honor. He was in all the papers, on all the talk shows, at all the premiers. He was a celebrity now. Everyone loved him and wanted to know him. \n\nFor a time, the fame kept Cinder at peace. He was able to convince himself that he did the right thing by killing Brick Tower. After all, he would have just escaped again, just like last time. \n\nBut as the fervor faded, and the flames of glory subsided, so too did Cinder's peace. He started having nightmares and moments of intense sorrow. He couldn't bring himself to get out of beds some days. \n\nOne day, Cinder found himself in a child's hospital room to help grant a wish. It had been sometime since someone actually requested for him.\n\n\"Christ, Cinder,\" said his agent, \"You look like hell. What's this beard? What the hell, well get in there and make this kid happy.\"\n\nAs Cinder walked into the room, he saw a ghostly pale child wrapped up in several sheets.\n\n\"H-hi, Mr. Cinder,\" said the child.\n\n\"Please, just call me Cinder.\"\n\nThe child then started to go on and on to Cinder about his illness and school and his friends and his toy and his... Cinder couldn't care less. There was nothing to be done by him for the child. He couldn't heal him. He was mostly useless now. PR visits like this were all he was good for.\n\nWithout so much as a word, he walked out of the room.\n\n\"Where the hell do you think you're going? Do you have any idea how bad this will look for you? You probably don't, because all you're good for is hitting people. Shit, I wish that Cyber Black woulda resigned with me, your sorry ass is too stupid to-\"\n\nWHACK\n\nCinder belted the agent into the next room. It felt good, to hit someone again. Really good. All Cinder could think to do was to hit someone again. And he knew just the man and just the place. \n\nThe last shuttle towards The Liberty wouldn't leave John F. Kennedy for a few more hours. ", "“Are you fucking serious?” She rounded on him as soon as she got home from work.\n\n“What?” He grumbled pathetically. The TV drowned out his words. He was surrounded by empty beer cans and equally empty family\\-sized bags of chips. His beer\\-belly peeked out cheekily from his dirty wife\\-beater which was stained with god\\-knows\\-what.\n\n“Have you done anything besides watch WWE all day?” She no longer sounded pissed – just incredibly disappointed; that was always the worst. \n\n“I applied to some jobs.” He mumbled, his eyes shifting suspiciously, giving away his bold\\-faced lie.\n\n“Like hell you did.” She gritted her teeth and stood between him and the TV, hands folded in front of her chest. She still looked as good as she had on their wedding day, though the same couldn’t be said of him.\n\nHe was once Incredi\\-Man. Hero to all the citizens of Kingsville. Protector of the weak. Saviour of all. He was perhaps a little bit too good at his job though, because before he knew it, he no longer had anything to save the citizens from. He’d long defeated Exacto\\-bot, had successfully rid the city of The Purple Cryptoid, and had kicked Turbulenz so far into space that he now had his own orbit. After the villains had all been defeated, Incredi\\-Man turned to the lesser evils of society. He took on banks that charged exorbitant fees, tried taking on evil politicians and even attempted to put an over\\-zealous HOA in its place. Unfortunately, not many took kindly to his efforts, and he was soon left jobless and hated by all. He’d turned to a life of day\\-drinking and Netflix\\-bingeing to quench his disappointment in himself and to try and forget how miserable his life had now become. \n\n“I can’t keep up with the mortgage anymore. How many times do I need to tell you? You need to be making an effort. My job is barely keeping us off the streets, and you know my contract’s almost up. Jesus, we’ve had this conversation so many times, and I’m bloody tired of it. You need to figure something out by the end of the month, or we’re done.” Her words seemed well\\-rehearsed, but she still couldn’t manage to hide her worry. He rubbed his stubble\\-covered chin, his eyes downcast. \n\n“I will. I’m sorry.” He muttered, knowing his words wouldn’t placate her.\n\nHe got to work. The threat of losing her had been the fuel he needed to get his ass into gear. He inserted the green thread onto the bobbin and then carefully put the bobbin into the sewing machine. He hadn’t done this since his time as Incredi\\-Man and he found he was a little clumsy. He cut and sewed and pasted and threaded all through the night. He didn’t get a wink of sleep but his determination kept him going. \n\nShe walked passed her home office to find him fast asleep on some hideously green material. His snores were ungentlemanly and the dribble that escaped his lips – unsightly. She sighed and felt a twinge of anger in her chest. She willed herself not to cry – she didn’t have time to fix her makeup for work. She grabbed her coat and left for work.\n\nShe arrived at the Kingsville bank and walked in, smiling at her co\\-workers and potential customers, though she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was about to go horrendously wrong. There was a voice somewhere deep inside her telling her to feel unnerved – for no reason whatsoever. Could this be that gut instinct she’d heard so much about? As much as she tried to ignore the voice it prevailed; little did she know she had every right to feel anxious. She settled in, behind her glass window and called up her first customer – an old lady who looked like she had more cats than lucid moments. \n\n“Good morning. Welcome to the Kingsville bank. How many I help you today?” She flashed her warm smile reserved for customer\\-service interactions.\n\n“I’d just like to make a depo\\-” The old lady never got a chance to finish. A huge blast brought customers and staff alike falling to their feet. From the smoke, arose a figure clad in skin\\-tight bright green spandex. \n\n“I am Frog Man.” His masked face revealed no emotions as he calmly told everyone in the building that he wouldn’t hurt them if they complied. He held out empty sacks and gave instructions, in no uncertain terms, for the tellers to fill them up. He got to her window and silently handed her a sack before flashing her a surreptitious grin and a silent wink. She looked horrified but winked back, understanding the situation and doing her best not to give her husband away.\n\nHe’d kept his promise after all." ]	2
	[WP] You are given the power to do anything or to change anything about the world, but only for 24 hours, and any changes you have made become irreversible. Now, 24 hours have passed.	[ "Harrison smiled. Then chuckled. Then laughed. He had just arrived to work and scanned the room. Rows of cubicles were filled with his busy co\\-workers. And they were all chickens, flapping their wings, clucking up a circus, and pecking at the keyboard. Ted strutted up to him, a black and brown feathered rooster in a suit and tie.\n\nHe pointed at his short\\-beaked friend. \"You look like a rooster.\" He bent over and roared with laughter.\n\nTed adjusted his glasses with his wing. \"Yes. Maybe that's 'cos I am a bloody rooster, you peanut.\"\n\n\"You look\"—Harrison wheezed and slapped his knee—\"so stupid.\"\n\n\"Yes. I'm a bloody rooster, you inbred ham.\"\n\n\"I know.\" Harrison grew weak in the knees and dropped to the floor. Water swelled in his eyes. \"It's so, so stupid. Look at you, with your cute li'l suit and your cute li'l glasses. Ted, you're adorable.\"\n\nTed darted his head forward and glared. \"Change me back. Change us back.\"\n\nHarrison rubbed a tear from his eye. \"Fine, fine. You're no fun.\"\n\n\"Do it now.\" Ted's wattle jiggled under his beak.\n\nHarrison closed his eyes. He formed the thought in his head, twisting it and shaping it. Make them human again. He opened his eyes.\n\n\"Well?\" Ted stabbed at the carpet with his beak. \"You changing us back?\"\n\nHis smile faded along with his bubbly attitude. \"Um.\" \n\n\"Um?\"\n\n\"I think I can't.\"\n\n\"You think you what? Change me back, you slapstick salami. Change me the hell back.\"\n\n\"Sorry, Ted.\" He rubbed his brow and forced a nervous laugh. \"You're stuck like this, mate. The entire world is.\"\n\n\"You fat flamin' flamingo. You're dead.\"\n\n\"Have I...rustled your feathers?\"\n\n\"You're dead.\"\n\n\"Did I put you in a...fowl mood?\"\n\n\"Dead, Harrison!\"" ]	1
	[WP] You live in a world where all coin tosses only land on heads. However, you manage to land on tails on National Live TV. Craziness ensues.	[ "After my showing as the coin tosser for the Super Bowl, I was promptly fired and blacklisted from ever working on TV again. \n\nI thought it would be funny, using a fake coin to mess with people, but nobody found it funny. Every coin that had ever been official tender had a face on both sides. It was taboo to ever put something other than a profile on any side of a coin, even as a joke.\n\nI thought it would be a great prank, it was April Fools after all, but I had dearly offended more people than I imagined. I apologized online, but that wasn't enough.\n\nAtleast I was the top search of Giggle for 3 weeks.", "They called it the \"Heads Up Phenomenon\". It might sense, the name. Whenever someone would flip a coin, truly randomly, it would always land face up. It would only land on heads.\n\nSince the invention of currency, there has always been some semblance of heads versus tails. Throughout recorded history, it has been known that coins always land with a person's face upward. It baffled the minds of early thinkers, equations were drawn, but nothing made sense. Sure, people would drop a coin heads down and tails would land up. But it wasn't a random coin flip, so the coin was not tossed. It was not that the coin couldn't land tails up, but that it didn't want to.\n\nThere were already plenty of theories as to why this was. Divine intervention was a big one. Why wouldn't it be? The most revered deity in history, Lady Luck, was the embodiment of this phenomenon. Those who swore to speak her word, to be channelers of her good fortune, had incredible power of people who looked up to her.\n\nSo when modern thinkers, physicists, and the brightest minds met to finally solve this issue in the mid-1900's, they had some groundwork laid out for them. They had decided, after a taxing discussion, what the root of the phenomenon was. It wasn't simple, unfortunately. Rather, it was a statistical anomaly. Moreover, proof of the multiverse.\n\n\"Lady Luck is real\", the heads-up council claimed in their public statement. That was the headline on a lot of newspapers. Lady Luck was the statistical deviation that has allowed the seemingly improbable to occur: for every coin toss in written history to land heads-up. While there may not be a Lady Luck physically altering every toss of the coin, she is figuratively woven into our universe, granting us this chance so small, so impossible, that it brings to light a whole other theory. We must live in a multiverse. There must be infinite universes, with every conceivable thing that could be altered, is in one of those universes. Or identical universes. This cannot be the only realm of existence.\n\nThe brightest minds walked into a room to solve a phenomenon, and they walked out with an answer to question no one asked or had even considered. Some found enlightenment in their words and went to work to explore the multiverse theory. Believers in Lady Luck were divided between dismissing their claims, and heralding their word as further proof of Lady Luck, but as a force rather than a singular being. This forever separated followers of Lady Luck into two factions.\n\nSo, you can imagine what was running through my mind now, can't you? Here I was, a 30-something guy on National Live TV. Plucked from a crowd, at random, to do the \"Daily Heads-Up Check\" for the most popular morning show in Europe. I toss the coin, and cover it quickly. Everyone pretends to be in anticipation. I wonder where I can find this online to show my co-workers. Then I unveil the coin, seeing it tails-up.\n\nMy heart drops. I look to the hosts of the show, their eyes widen and then squint as they get closer. \"That can't be.\" One says. \"It's a fake, right? You're a magician!\" They take the coin, checking it over. It wasn't double-sided for tails. Not weighted. They stop the show and recheck the footage.\n\n\"I swear, I just flipped the coin!\" I said, sitting in the footage room with the hosts and camera crew. \"You can check my pockets, look at the footage again! I just flipped it!\"\n\nWhile they argued at first, the hosts had calmed. Or rather, they became quiet. The camera crew kept replaying the same 10 seconds over and over. It was legitimate. \n\nA crowd was gathering outside the studio. They seemed to ignore it in the room, like they didn't want to acknowledge what was happening. I peered outside, from the tenth story, I could see tens of thousands of people. Their voice like a wave crashing into the side of the building. Blotches of red and black, the two different suits of the Lady Luck order, were toward the back of the massive crowd, making their way closer.\n\nI had disturbed the fundamental truth of Lady Luck. The one constant in this universe. Even those who did not see to Her faith, were aware of the power she held both in people and figuratively. I had broken it. I was the one who bent her will. I was the unlucky son of a bitch who was now the most hated man in the world." ]	2
Kind of an effed up situation that ran through my head as I was falling asleep.	[WP] You have recently fallen in love with a girl. You see her every morning and every night. You both laugh at the same videos, look at the same art online, and browse the same forums. The only problem? She's a college student, and you're the NSA agent watching her through her webcam.	[ "*As A God On High\n\nIt was hard being mad at someone you had never officially* met before, but i could try my best couldn't I?\n\nMy job at the NSA wasn't the most enjoyable thing in the world, monitoring teens and adults alike, and sometimes seeing the stark divide between parents and the children that loved each other, that on occasion raised up like a mountain through a canyon, amazing and impossible, but still formed a bridge that, \$with time and effort could still be traced through either memory or inquiring the voluminous archives to its source\$, might be the start of a titanic battle that the legions of the parents and the hordes of teenagers would instantly clash if the polar opposite would dare so much as breath in their direction.\n\nBut I digress, I would be furious if they didn't clash and instead were content to rock back and forth on their heels, never crossing the link between the worlds they occupied and never reach an equilibrium, that perfect outcome that could only be attained if those armies charged across the brink, that barren no\\-man's land and fight it out until they had settled their differences.\n\nI saw many armies try many different tactics, from trying to goad the other into attacking so that history would see them\\-selves as the victims, to lowering their own swords in a mockery of peace and understanding, only to raise them in a wholesale slaughter once the other would cross to make amends. As I sat there in my rather comfortable chair, I would always marvel at all the wonderful and altogether abhorrent strategies Sun Tzu had missed.\n\nAnd yet, even as I yelled internally at those coward armies for never crossing the brink, I would always cry in glorious jubilation at when both legion and horde were determined to resolve their conflicts and both, somewhat hesitantly, insisted on throwing all weapons to the ground, to the abysses below, and clashed not in rage, but in an awesome harmony that united them into old age and solidarity. But looking down, like a Greek god on a higher mountain\\-top, I might never effect my own peace, and chose to remain in a barbarous discord with my own parents.\n\nSo, it was hard to be at peace with someone you had never met, but I could still try couldn't I? To not see my own end reflected through all too many conflicts that ended with either a legion or a horde to stand alone on that mountain and wait for eternity to pass, or to force it to, would be a occurrence i might hope and pray for.\n\nA/N: Never typed anything out of this length before, i know it doesn't really match the prompt, but i only realized once i was done, I'll try to stay in line next time, just please don't delete \$ just send me to the bottom or something\$ took me quite awhile to type and I'd like to see what everyone thought, like if i was an ass for using a thesaurus on at least half of the thing, or if it was too short. Thanks.", "\"Thanks for coming in, Jon. If you could please have a seat.\"\n\n\"Yeah, sure, thanks.\" I gave a weak smile. I knew what this was about. \n\n\"How are things at home, Jon? Everything going okay?\"\n\n\"Yeah, going well. I'm just trying my best.\" \n\nTed stared at me. I forgot the promise I had made. \n\n\"Jon, I thought we agreed you would be honest with\\-\\-\"\n\n\"I'm sorry, its just a reflex now.\" Ted's eyes didn't waiver. \n\n\"It's still worst in the mornings. I wake up, and without fail, there's always that moment where I think she'll be there. Right next to me. It's just for a second, but that's all it takes. Obviously, she's not. And the rest of my mornings are just trying to recover from that.\" \n\n\"You've still been making it in on time.\" \n\n\"Yeah, I mean I'm a morning person. No problem keeping up the routine. I don't really get how symptoms of trauma include really long showers.\"\n\nTed's expression softened a little. \n\n\"I appreciate that. But we would totally understand if you had to call in a few times.\" \n\n\"Nah, I've got nothing to do at home anyway.\" I chuckled. He didn't join me. He took a big breath like he was about to start on something and then let it out. I decided I'd wait for him to get up the courage. \n\n\"You've been spending a lot of extra hours here, Jon. Half the time, you've not even on the clock.\" \n\n\"Like I said, not much to do....Plus, the wifi here is great. Netflix is always buffering at my place.\"\n\n\"Say what you want about the NSA, we've got some damn good wifi\" We both smiled. \n\n\"I know you're not here watching Netflix, man. What, did you think we don't keep an eye on your monitors?\"\n\n\"No, I was pretty confident of that.\" \n\nI really didn't want to let him down. He really stuck his neck out when he hired me last spring. \n\n\"She's 19 years old!\" \n\n\"So?\"\n\n\"So she's 19 years old! That's not okay! No part of this is okay.\" \n\n\"What's so wrong about it? Besides the typical blatant violation of privacy that this place lives off of.\" \n\n\"Don't give me that. You knew what you signed up for. Look, I can't imagine the pain that losing Angie caused you\\-\"\n\n\"Leave her out of\\-\"\n\n\"But this girl is not the answer.\"\n\n\"I know that! You know how I know that? Because there is no answer, alright? I just have to carry this pain with me. Thats it. But there is Julie. And she's beautiful. And she's smart. And she's perfect. And can't you just let me have that?\"\n\nTed's head fell into his hands. He must have been asked to talk to me about this. I kept pushing.\n\n\"Everyone in this office has somebody that they keep tabs on. You know that. Margie has eyes on Regis Philbin all the time, and you've got your affection for some old professors. I bet you Kenneth is watching is his ex fuck his brother right now. \"\n\n\"This is different.\" \n\n\"How? How is this different?\"\n\n\"Because you're in love with her.\"\n\n\"I am not.\"\n\n\"Really?\"\n\n\"Absolutely, not.\"\n\n\"Last week, you spent 90 hours on her feed. Week before that it was 106. I mean how are you even sleeping.\" \n\n\"We\\- I sleep when she does.\" \n\n\"See? What the hell is that?\"\n\n\"Look, its just\\- It's not\\- It's comforting alright.\"\n\n\"It needs to stop.\" \n\n\"No.\" \n\n\"No?\" \n\n\"Do you want me to kill myself?\"\n\n\"What??\" \n\n\"Look. It was an accident. I was doing a favor for someone assigned to a free speech association at Berkeley. It was pretty routine, and I got bored. So I ended up just browsing the cams in the area. And I was stopped in my tracks by her. She wasn't in any compromising position or any state of undress. She was sitting at her desk, just like me, working on a paper on her laptop. Humming to herself. Something about the intent in her eyes got to me. I felt like even if she knew that some stranger was watching her in the privacy of her own room, it wouldn't matter. It wouldn't even phase her. She didn't need anything from anybody. Jon. She's there for me. Everyday. It doesn't matter if I'm feeling like a fucking god or wishing I could throw myself down a quarry, she's always there living her life with all its own challenges and victories. And one thing that isn't a part of her world, is the dark injustice that the love of your life can be stolen from you in the middle of the night for no reason at all. I'm not in love with Julie. But I love her. I need to watch her. I need to see her. Because if I don't, all I've got is my world where your best friend is just something you lose. Please Jon. Just let me have this.\" \n\n\"If she really is that important to you. If that's what this means to you, then I'm sorry. I'm going to have to let you go.\" \n\nI collapsed. Tears had already been streaming down my face, but now they flowed between desperate staccato breaths. \n\n\"We can't have an employee with that level of emotional connection to this work. We're here to keep the nation safe. People are relying on us.\" \n\n I was shaking. \n\n\"I'm sorry, okay? We'll have to delete all your permissions. You're not going to be seeing Julie anymore. And I know for a fact that its going to be good for you.\"\n\nAnd then I stopped shaking. My breathing became steady. The muscles across my shoulders tightened. I stood up and walked out of the office. \n\n\"Where are you going??\"\n\n\"Berkeley.\"", "She's beautiful. Her golden hair, hazel eyes, thin pink lips. She's the only thing I think about. I love her, she is the only person I have ever loved - but loving her is against the rules. I cannot love a suspect - and so I watch her. I sit idly by everyday. I watch her do her homework. I watch her in class, watching movies. Sometimes... if I'm lucky I get to watch her sleep. I wish I could talk to her, but she can't know I'm there. I love her laugh - it sounds like a drink of ice cold water on a hot hot day. It's refreshing and everything I need. I listen to her laugh when he watches videos. I watch her draw sometimes, and he is the most amazing artist I have ever seen. My heart feels like it will jump from chest every time I see her. I have to find a way to meet her. I have to. Maybe I could plan a meeting in the coffee shop on campus that she likes to go to when she's low on energy...but if I go... I'll be jeopardizing my career. Being a part of the NSA has been my dream since I was a child, and now I can't picture my life without coming to work and sitting in my chair and watching my beautiful Amelya through her webcam everyday...but what if I never have to watch her through the webcam again...what if I could wake up next to her every morning, and feel her body next to mine. What if I could wake up to her in my bed, and fall asleep every night with her wrapped around me? I go to my supervisor Jack Dungo. \"Hey Jack, do we still do undercover?\" Jack looks up from his work \"Yeah, why? you got something?\" I fiddle with my fingers \"uh. Yeah Amelya Winters, 23 goes to Yale. I think it would be useful to go undercover, get to know her a little better, don't you agree?\" Jack shakes his head and laughs \"Winters? If you say so, go ahead and find a meeting spot. Geoff will be your handler\" I smile to myself, but to Jack I say \"yes sir\" and turn to leave but he stops me. \"Oh and Clayton? be nice to the girl\" and with that he winks at me and goes back to his work. I walk out of his office and close the door behind me. YES! I shout in my head. I'll finally get to meet her. The girl of my dreams, my beautiful, beautiful girl. I get back to my computer and notice Amelya's is turned on. I look through the screen and I cannot believe my eyes. Amelya is hanging there, by a rope that's tied around her neck. a note taped to her torso; it reads 'I KNOW YOU'VE BEEN WATCHING HER, SO HERE'S THE SHOW. P.S YOU'RE NEXT'. and the last thing I hear before it goes dark is the door to my office opening and a deep voice whisper \"this is why you don't fall in love\"", "\nI thought to myself, \"How can I keep this relationship going without telling her that I work for the NSA? And tell her that I'm watching her through her webcam right now? What will she say to me? Will she be mad at me, or will she forgive me and keep loving me? Will she treat me differently if I tell her? I don't know. I don't know if it is even worth telling her my true profession. I don't know if it is for the better for the both of us in the long run to end this relationship for the sake of my job. This is my job. Is it worth risking this relationship for the sake of my job? I really do love her though. She's one of the best people I've ever met in my life. Maybe I should tell her. I don't know if I want to.\"\n\nI watch Skylar climb into her bed. I don't know why am I doing this to her? Gosh, I'm such a horrible boyfriend. Is it right for her to know this? Why did my boss have to assign me to watch her of all people tonight?\n\nSkylar grabs her phone on her nightstand and begins to start typing. Soon, my phone vibrates a second later. I look at it to see what it says.\n\n\"goodnight sweetie! hope you're having a good day at work. :)\"\n\nMy heart sank as I saw this text message.\n\n\"Goodnight, Skylar.\" I replied.\n\nI sighed I sent it. I know she doesn't know I'm watching her right now. This isn't right. Each moment I do this, it feels like a part of me is whithering away.\n\nI watch Skylar pull herself under the covers and turn off the lights. The screen then goes completely black.\n\nI close my laptop out of shame.\n\nI think I much rather deal with the consequences from my boss later...", "I'm suppose to be searching databases and cross checking prior terrorist profile's to prevent another attack like the one we had last year. \n\nTerrible way for the Cult to reveal their presence - killing millions of people with ZXB gas. \n\nThis girl is a suspect that had very very lose ties with the Cult. I've been watching hundreds of people but I can't stop watching her. Something about her is special. I feel as if I know everything about her. \n\n[Two Months Later]\n\nShe's been meeting with a man who I thought was just a friend at first. I then saw them making love in her bed last night. I cant stand the sight of my girlfriend with another man. \n\nI'm going to give them the OK to launch the next one. Maybe this one with wipe everyone out like we planned. \n\n-Lucipher signing off \n\n\n\n", "Oliver leaned back in his swivel chair and put his face in his hands.\n\n\"How did I ever get myself into a relationship like this?\" he wondered aloud. \"She's just an Asian.\"\n\nOliver's supervisor suddenly appeared behind Oliver's swivel chair leaning in to look at Oliver's screen. \"An agent?\" he asked, \"Who's agent?\"The NSA liked to joke they were like Jedi. Observing people, even sexually attractive people like the woman on the screen, without ever being allowed to fall in love. It was only natural to fall in love. Much the same way that you feel a personal connection to a TV character in a drama, NSA agents were prone to becoming attached to those that they watched. You could watch all you wanted, but personal attachment was strictly forbidden.\n\n\"Oh, yes, an Agent.\" Oliver stammered, \"...of the United States. A former agent I mean. One of ours.\"\n\n\"Oh is she?\" the supervisor remarked as he peered with thinly opened eyes at the warm glow of the monitor. A young Japanese woman was writing on a white board with a collection of magic markers. \"This is the one you've been logging a lot of hours on isn't it?\"\n\nOliver gulped. Some agents had the best instincts and he was right. He had been watching her a lot. There was no point in lying. His supervisor could always log into his own computer and check the feed and confirm that this was in fact his favorite girl to watch.\n\n\"Y... yes.\" Oliver managed to say, choking on the word as it escaped his lips.\n\n\"Well what's the story? Why so many hours on this one? She a threat or not?\"\n\nOliver was relieved instantly. His supervisor would never ask such a question if he knew he was spying for pleasure rather than business. \"Yes.\" he said instinctively. \"I mean no.\" he quickly reconsidered.\n\nThe supervisor was not pleased. \"Explain.\" he said simply. \n\nOliver knew the tactic. When in doubt agents let people hang themself with their own rope. He had to choose his words carefully.\n\n\"I mean I don't know yet. She's a former agent and she has been passing information secretly to foreign powers.\" Oliver was proud he was finally able to lie without tripping over his words.\n\n\"Who's she an agent for?\" the supervisor asked.\n\nOliver paused for a moment to carefully consider his words. He wanted to keep watching her. This was his secret girlfriend now in his mind. This girl played love songs constantly on youtube and Oliver was sure she was playing them just for him. She liked all the same types of videos and the relationship had felt very personal ever since years ago when the girl had revealed she knew she was being watched. She did it coyly by pretending to be schizophrenic and talking about FBI agents watching her all the time. Oliver liked to think that deep down she knew her secret admirer was in the NSA, not the FBI. \"Japan.\" Oliver said at last.\n\n\"Japan?!\" the superviser blurted out. \"Ridiculous. You need to finalize your report on this one by the end of the day and have it on my desk within the hour. Wait, what does that sign say?\" \n\nOliver swiveled his chair and looked back at the webcam monitor. The young lady was holding a white poster board sign up to the webcam which said the following, \"I know you watch me too, NSA!\"\n\nOliver was speechless. He chose to keep his mouth shut through force of will. His supervisor gasped. \"She knows.\"\n\n\"Y... yes.\" Oliver stammered, equally surprised but for different reasons.\"And who does she mean by 'too'? Do the Japanese have access to our spy network?\"\n\n\"I... uh. I don't know what to say.\" Oliver said.\n\nAnother sign was held up to the webcam, \"I know you can see through my webcam when the green light blinks.\" it said.\n\nTechnology is hard to keep up with. There is no chance to beta test spy equipment and work out all the kinks. Sometimes hardware would do things like light up when activated when you didn't want it too and there was nothing you could do but hope the unsuspecting consumers didn't notice. This girl was dishing out the information on what she'd learned from being a target of spying and as far as Oliver's supervisor knew, a foreign power was getting all the information.\n\n\"Find out who she works for, that's an order!\" the supervisor barked as he walked away to the next cubicle.\n\nOliver was relieved his supervisor left him in charge of the situation, but he was both heart broken and scared. Surely he had interpreted her actions correctly as being affectionate love. What of their first date when they watched the Matrix together on Netflix. Sure, she could never hear him, but he liked to think he communicated with her psychically as a soul mate. She even wrote a big flowery post about how she believed in just such a thing early on.\n\nThe girl made more and more hand\\-written signs and held them up to the webcam. \"I know you can see my screen 24/7\" she wrote. \"I know you had trouble getting past my authenticator and then you figured out a way around.\" and lastly \"What do you want from me?\"\n\nOliver's supervisor was momentarily distracted but he knew he had to think of some kind of a grand plan to get them both out of trouble. Oliver would never turn in actual paperwork indicating she was a former spy gone rouge. Even if his love thought she was dealing with the FBI all this time or really thought she was schizophrenic, he could never betray her with a false report just to save his own hide. Besides, he'd gotten to know her quirks, her traits, her unique humanness by watching her the last few weeks and he genuinely cared for her welfare.\n\nOliver remembered his procedure manual. The one advantage he had is that he knew everything the NSA would do to cover up a leak. Legal counsel had run a calculation and determined that if preventing a leak of sensitive information would cost $130,000 dollars or less, they would take that avenue as the decrease in funding following a public debacle was far worse. The agency hated things being brought out into the public. It was... irreversible. Oliver had a plan.\n\nAn indicator light flashed on Oliver's keyboard. His love's feed was now marked as \"elevated\" by his supervisor. From now on, everything she did would be recorded in a large database server. She would forever live in the cloud. Oliver was trapped. Somehow he needed to tell his love his plan to give her a small fortune and keep her out of prison without obviously making his pitch seen on her webcam or in her file.\n\nOliver tried calling her on the phone. He masked his voice to sound completely different and tried to tell her she had won a prize and needed to come fill out some forms in private to claim it. She hung up on him. \"Nope, my silence is not for sale.\" she wrote on a board and held it up to a webcam.\n\nOliver smacked his face with his palm. This lady was some combination of brilliant and stupid. Brilliant for somehow psychically being able to infer his plan from the first step, and stupid for having refused it. Did she know what she was getting herself into? Just how much did she really know?\n\n\"Yes, I am psychic.\" the next sign read. Oliver gasped.\n\n\"I see you!\" the sign after that read.\n\nOliver watched as the girl picked up the phone and called the local pizzeria, \"Yes, I'd like to make an order.\" she said.\n\nOliver had no plans. He didn't know what was going on anymore. This girl that he thought had a psychic connection with him, just said she was psychic and it had left him stunned. All he could do was listen to her make her order. \"Yes I'd like to order the NSA guy who listens to my calls to give it a break. He's stressing me out. I just need space, and neither the FBI nor the NSA is giving it to me.\"\n\nOliver was stunned. He wanted to reach over and press the button to terminate her phone calls. But it was just that sort of action, of reacting to the person you are watching, that probably tipped her off in the first place. Sure, Oliver had shewed away a few jealous would\\-be boyfriends, but he never thought the guy at the FBI was real, and he never thought he was getting in the way of anything but physical attraction.\n\nThe girl hung up the phone. The pizza place wrote the call off as a prank call, but it would be part of her permanent record should he ever turn in his file on her. At that moment, Oliver decided it was time to commit to his love. He would watch this girl indefinitely and swear off all other girls. He would watch her and never turn in his report. He would always think of another excuse to watch her further, the lies growing with each passing year. There was so little over\\-sight in the NSA that he had heard of some colleges getting away with doing just that. One co\\-worker brags at lunch about how he only watches celebrities because everyone else is so damn depressing.\n\nOliver's superviser hovered back into the space. He was always quiet on his feet and glided around like a true spy. After a long moment of silence he spoke, \"So she's working for the Japanese huh?\"\n\n\"Passing them information sir. So far just information about us spying on her, nothing more.\"\n\n\"Well Edward Snowden and his troublesom ilk saw to it that everyone knows what we do, so we can ignore her.\"\n\n\"NO sir.\" Oliver accidentally said with too much emphasis, \"I mean, sorry sir, but I think I,... I mean \\we\\ should watch her further. She can still tell people all about what ways we watch her, and uh, she probably knows about us being able to control the weather.\"\n\n\"We can control the weather?\" the supervisor asked puzzled.\n\n\"Oh, sorry sir, need to know basis. I uh... learned about it from her. She was higher rank than either of us.\"\n\nThere was a long pause. \"Proceed.\" the supervisor said, turning his back walking away.\n\nAnd that was how it went from a simple crush at a distance to a long\\-term relationship of lies, secrets and spying. Oliver wiped sweat from his forehead that he hoped had gone unnoticed. He promised himself to be good to this girl. She hadn't asked for any of this attention and he truly wanted her to be happy, peaceful and free from worry. Oliver leaned back in his swivel chair as he wondered aloud, \"If that isn't love, what is?\"\n\nThe girl held up another poster\\-board sign with the words, \"Oh baby don't hurt me, no more.\"", "Tuesday was the day Marian went to the Hair salon. It was the first time in a long time that she had left her dorm, and I was stuck monitoring an empty room. Despite the implications of being without her for a few hours, I was proud of her for finally deciding to leave the room after that nasty breakup. Marian is dependable, and honest, one of the best people I’ve ever actually never met before. Being an NSA agent, it was standard custom nowadays to monitor the public. They knew about it, we knew about it. Everyone knows the government is not so secretly spying on everyone. And Marian had a slight suspicion that there was someone watching her. I could hear her voicing her complaints to her mother through the keurig \$She didn’t trust her computer, or her phone. It was very hard having to track her all the way to Kokoma, Nebraska just to listen in on that little conversation she decided to have.\$ \n\nIt was all worth it though. Marian was my whole livelihood now. I don’t hate my job as much as I used to, not when I can listen to her voice, and laugh at all of her silly texts. She really is a wonderful girl. And if circumstances were different, I have no doubt we’d be amazing friends. Maybe lovers, if I was bolder. \n\nWednesday was the day she returned to the dorm. Midterms were coming it seemed. I remembered midterms when I was in college. I’ve recently made it out, but Marian is close behind. I don’t know what she wants to do afterward, and I’m more than sure that she isn’t sure either. Personally, given her kindness and empathy towards others, veterinarian or nurse seems to be a perfect match for her. Despite her nice personality, I’ve seen a side to her that I can only describe as “Problematic”. She’s very shy, for one thing. Her shyness played a big part in her behaviour on tuesday. And she can be short tempered when it comes to plain ignorance. \n\nThose discrepancies are not enough to blind me though. ", "Joy Langston, the highly intelligent woman I have been assigned. Joy is the leader of a highly dangerous, popular rebel cause. I must watch her to keep her under wraps and make sure she doesn't grow too powerful. Although, ironically I find the fact that she is so powerful makes me feel more deeply than i have fot anyonr. Somehow, during the last few weeks I've slowly begun to fall in love with her. The way she thinks is captivating, she solves issues in ways no one I have watched has. Her hair is short and choppy, very reflective of her serious personality. She wasn't a very bright person, most of the time I watch her through her computer and her phone cameras she rarely smiles. Some nights I watch her cry at night. Every time she does this, she blasts music on her laptop. Every tear that falls from her face pains my heart more than anything has before. \n\nWhat is so odd about my infatuation with this gorgeous woman is that... I have sworn I'm straight my entire life. I've only been with men, I have never felt this way for a woman. But with her I feel more toward her than anyone else. As I watch her relax or work I can't help myself imagine touching her gorgeous honey kissed skin. She looks so soft, her lips I could kiss for eternity. \n\nWednesday:\n6 a.m.:\nJoy sleepily gets up to prepare for her big meeting. \n7 a.m.:\nJoy sits for a bit sipping her tea before work. \n8 a.m.: \nJoy begins her presentation.\n...\n10 p.m.:\nShe comes home with a man. \n\nAll the joy that I held in my heart dissipated and was filled with outrage. I felt blood thirsty. I watched this man gingerly kiss down her body and slowly take her clothes off. I started screaming at my monitor trying to get her to realize she was making a mistake, telling this man to fuck off. But of course, she was unresponsive. Quickly I grabbed my keys and my pistol. Time to pay Joy a visit. ", "Her name is Sarah. She was born in Pottumwa, Iowa. She moved to Santa Monica. She goes to UCLA studying film. Specifically, she is studying editing. She is three years into her masters.\n\nHer favorite movie is A Nightmare on Elm Street. She listens to the Misfits. She has a horror movie she wrote, shot, and editted on her 4 terabyte external Samsung Harddrive, serial number 093451778. \n\nIt is decent, for a 15 year old stealing her father's VHS recorder. It's called \"The Clawed Horror\". \n\nHer father is a welder at a machine shop with a penchant for B-movies. Her mother is a middle-manager at a small office firm in Salinas, California. She moved there when she was a sophomore in high school. \n\nShe enjoys beer. She has never been to a trendy barber shop or clothing store. She thrifts. She cuts her own hair. She has taught herself all of these skills.\n\nHer mind is brilliant. Her minor is language studies. She speaks, fluently, three different languages: German, Portugese, and Japanese. She is invested in video gaming. She has friends all over the world. Every now and then she even lets her international friends beat her at League of Legends, even though she mathematically can best them any time.\n\nShe keeps a journal saved in her cloud. She jots down anything that comes to her mind. Movie ideas; \"Guy opens portal to netherrealm. Bangs Satan's daughter. Satan insists on a shotgun wedding.\" \n\nHer name is Sarah.\n\nShe has a boyfriend. His name is Jason. He is cheating on her with two women, who are sleeping with other women and men, and so on and so forth. I see everything, Jason. So I know you only appreciate Sarah because she'll do anal every now and then. Because you think she's easy.\n\nI've seen the pictures. A perfect body. The tattoo on her left breast. The birthmark on her left shoulder. The shots of you two making love.\n\nI can't call it love, on your end Jason. After all, you are her college professor. It all started so innocent; \"Excuse me, Professor Jensen? I'm struggling with this concept, borderline personality disorder, what separates it from depression, anxiety, or general psychopathy?\"\n\nAnd how blase your reply was. \"Hi Sarah, consult me after class on Thursday. I have a few hours to kill before my next class, so I will explain to you the difference between those four disorders.\"\n\nOh, Sarah, my love...How foolish you were.\n\nHe was a strapping man; early 30's, graying temples. Fit, but not athletic. But you couldn't see the conditioning occuring. I could, after all out of your 26 classmates none of them bothered to secure their laptops. I know them all. Rachel, John, Mike, Alexandra, the rest...\n\nSo I see everything. Even the security cameras at the university.\n\nI see him grooming you.\n\nI see him conditioning you.\n\nI see you thinking that you want him. I can tell by how your webcam shows you blushing when he addresses you in a joking manner in class. A small classroom. 20 desks. Used for physics and sociology on Mondays and Fridays. But your class uses it Thursday.\n\nAnd every Thursday night, two weeks after your study session, I have seen you join him on the security cameras in the supply room. \n\nSarah, your perfect body. Your hazel eyes, your brunette curls, your rapturous smile. \n\nI see him defile you in my dreams. I see him sodomize you. I see his wife; I see his children. I see everything.\n\nI love you, Sarah. I love you. I love your parents:; Two friendly small-towners, completely unsure of themselves when they moved to California. But they succeeded. But don't fret. I will be with you soon, my love, and no matter what you say, I know you don't love your professor. I'll be sure you know who really loves you, dear. \n\nI've seen every video. Every picture. Your parents are tech savvy. They backed up everything. My dear, gyou are as right as the sun. You are the ebb and flow of a tide moving in, unsettling the sand, leaving only a pure untouched, undefiled state.\n\nI'm coming Sarah. I know how much you truly need me. ", "“James,” my boss called gruffly, from the far end of the table. Mine was the last in a series of presentations concerning online domestic terror threats. The atmosphere in the room was leaden; the lights were dimmed, the air was humid and stale, because a dozen of us had been seated there for over two hours without any break. I could see the weariness in the faces of my co-workers, as they battled the 3 pm. post-lunch afternoon lull, none too successfully: some were yawning outright. But all of this wasn’t enough to calm my terrible case of nerves: the thudding in my chest and faint sweat on my forehead announced, to everyone, I feared, that this presentation, despite my hours of preparation, was going to be awful. \n\n“An update, please, James,” my boss, the special agent in charge of online terrorism, was saying, “on the campus radicalization watch.” \n\nEleven pairs of eyes stared at me along the boardroom table. I had no choice but to get this over with, I thought to myself: I managed to plug in the projector to my laptop, fired up Powerpoint, and tried to calm my breathing enough to speak without my voice trembling. \n\n“As we all know,” I began, awkwardly clearing my throat, and trying to force my voice into a lower register, “The most recent domestic security threat to emerge on-campus is comprised of men in the 18-24 demographic. You might have heard of them, given recent unfortunate events internationally,” I said, dryly. “They’re called incels.”\n\n“F-ing losers,” muttered a colleague, down the table. “We should round them all up and gas them.”\n\nA flicker of anger registered in my consciousness. That’s easy for him to say, a voice in my head mocked. He’s not a stupid virgin who can’t get laid, unlike-\n\n“On the contrary,” I said, firmly, cutting off my own internal dialogue, “Most of them are not radicalized and are not a genuine threat. The vast majority of them will never carry out anything like real-life action against the women they hate. It’s important to keep perspective, here, and not get carried away.”\n\n“Still,” sniffed the square-jawed asshole, who seemed to fancy that he was office Rambo, “There should be, like, a quiz, or something, to keep that scum out of the workplace. I bet there’s one of those would-be c--tlickers here in this very room.”\n\n“It would be fairly stupid for them to act as double-agents, contrary to their job mandates,” I said, as my heart begin to race. While nearly all of us were solitary loners in the cyber unit, these twats from the terrorism force, with whom we were working for the first time, seemed much more judgmental, and I hoped they weren’t getting any ideas about me. \n\n“And we’re all thoroughly screened for such tendencies, before joining this organization, in case you’ve forgotten,” I continued, hoping I wasn’t belabouring the point too long. “Back to the issue at hand: we need to focus our efforts on the core of the group – at its heart is a cohort of men completely lacking in empathy, who fantasize about violence against women, and instigate extremism amongst each other.”\n\nI flashed through a series of screenshots presenting my findings from the surveillance I’d conducted on each of their message boards. An audible gasp went through the room, thoroughly rousing it from its afternoon slumber. The group broke silence to interject with clamorous, angry exclamations: \n\n“His own MOTHER – what kind of monster could ever – “\n\n“Oh my God: he’s talking about doing that to dead people. I think I’m going to throw up – “\n\n“Underage girls – this should be reported to the human trafficking unit- “\n\n“Yes,” I said, loudly, finding my courage after letting them vent their feelings for a minute. The chatter mostly stopped, save for a few murmurs. “Much of this content is highly disturbing, and I will liaise with other investigative units to make sure these leads aren’t overlooked. But MY core investigation is an adjacent unit, which, I believe, is the key to both radicalizing and dismantling them: this watchdog group.”\n\n“You’re investigating the watchdog group?” frowned my boss. “I don’t see the purpose of that whatsoever.”\n\n“The watchdog group,” I continued, “has an instigating function. They find material produced by the incel group, troll the incel groups with it by making fun of it, and then the incel groups react and are driven to even further extremes. It’s effectively a match to kindling.”\n\n“James,” my colleague Andrea said, leaning over the table, “I consider you my friend, and I know you mean well, but isn’t this more than a little out of line? You’ve just said that a group who watches these guys is somehow equivalent to these literal terrorists…”\n\n“I’m not saying,” I said, interrupting her, at which she frowned, “That they’re the same AT ALL. What I’m saying is that this counter-group can be weaponized and used productively against them.” \n\n“How so?” my boss interjected.\n\n“The façade of both groups depends on public posturing,” I said. “The men posture for the women in their, you know, genuinely frightening pseudo-terrorist way. The women posture for the men, in their virtuous, pearl-clutching, ‘I am so horrified by this; think of the children’ way. It’s kind of old-school gender-wars stuff, ironically. Violence against virtue. So, the means to crack through this impasse,” I said, relishing this twist, even though this was precisely the part of the presentation I'd been most anxious about, “Is to get them in an environment where the posturing means nothing. We have to get them to DM each other.”\n\n“DM?” asked my boss.\n\n“Direct message,” I clarified. “Look at this: Here I am pretending to be some horrible incel, and this sweet college girl – she’s really quite something,” I said, laughing, despite myself, at this exchange; she’d been so heartfelt, and I’d been so asinine, that I couldn’t help smiling about it, at how gamely she’d played along. “She is, like, pouring it out in the messages. We’re having a whole real conversation about our entire lives. It’s pretty amazing.”\n\n“And you know that this is replicable - how?” My boss questioned. \n\n“Because,” I said, clicking through to the next screen, “I’m watching the PCs and phones of all these guys. And it’s like they’re different guys in private, a lot of the time. Not all of them, but some of them, are able to stop being edgy, and act almost genuine. Some of them are still acting like total dicks – sorry,” I muttered, “Their language is kind of infectious. Not-nice people. But I think it’s making a difference, slowly, and over time. And it's, I think, a very good measure of how indoctrinated they are,” I concluded. \"If they can drop the act when talking to someone they believe to be a woman, maybe they aren't beyond saving.\" \n\n“James,” my boss said, with a frown, “We are the NSA. We’re not a government-funded angry-young-man rehabilitation program.”\n\n“Yes, sir,” I said, my heart sinking.\n\n“This man, in your screenshot – that’s not you, right?” I confirmed it wasn’t. “THIS is your redemptive moment for him? He’s telling this girl to ‘go f-- her tall boyfriend’ if she’s bored of him.”\n\n“Well,” I said, slouching slightly, “That’s about as warm and fuzzy as he gets. At least he’s not calling her a … lady of the night? At least it’s some positive human contact?”\n\n“James,” he said, as frustration built in his voice, “You need to focus on providing me with leads. You need to hone in on the cells which are active terror threats, plant the seeds for action as an undercover operative, and then give us the go-ahead to bust them wide open.”\n\n“Yes, sir,” I said, bowing my head. \n\n“Stop dicking around with these women, and get to work on your actual job,” he thundered. “We need to produce results, not just talk about our feelings, here.”\n\nWith a few additional words about our tasks for the upcoming week, he ended the meeting, and the group stood up to leave. I gathered my laptop accessories in my trembling hands while the rest of the group filtered out past me, casting pitying glances my way.\n\n“Tough luck, James,” Andrea called to me, as she paused by my side. “I still think those incel guys are terrifying and that you aren’t objective enough about them, but at least you were trying to do something good about it.”\n\n“Ouch,” I said, I tried to force my face into a smile. “Not objective enough?” I wondered, with terror, if she suspected the truth of my situation. “You don’t think I’m one of those assholes, do you?”\n\n“Of course not,” she said. “You seem like a perfectly nice guy. You don’t seem like you hate me, when we talk. And your love life is none of my business.”\n\n“I don’t hate women,” I said, “Even if I don’t have great luck with them.”\n\n“Dry spell, huh?” she said. “I know exactly what that’s like. Work here is pretty all-consuming, and people who stare at computers all day aren’t always the best at being social.”\n\nI nodded, and sighed. Andrea was too polite to pry further, and I was grateful. \n\n“Don’t be too hard on yourself,” she said. “God, you had a ton of work up there. A million leads. You could focus in on any of those radicals and produce results, I’m pretty sure of it.”\n\n“If I make it to next week,” I sighed. “How long do you think they give me until I’m fired?”\n\n“You’re ridiculous,” she scoffed. “Jesus, every time you have a bad day at work you think this’ll happen. Do you want to have lunch together?” she asked. “So you can talk it out?”\n\n“Sorry,” I said. For some reason, kindness was very difficult for me to accept – it always felt like pity, and reminded me of my own failure, and then suddenly I was choking back tears. \n\n“I’ve got a bunch of backlogged work to get through,” I said, trying to stop my voice from trembling, “so I’m probably going to eat at my desk.” \n\n“Sure you’re all right?” Andrea asked, quietly.\n\n“Yes,” I said, not meeting her eyes.\n\nI sat alone in the dark, in the empty conference room, for so long that another group interrupted me to start their meeting.\n", "Three days. It was the longest I'd gone without seeing her - that is, since I'd started seeing her. She went home for the holiday weekend and left her classmates and studies behind. I never asked, of course, but I was secretly hoping she would bring me along and let me see her family for once.\n\nEverything was so still in her dorm without her, aside from the shadows of the tree outside the window bouncing around the room. She had a bad habit of leaving her curtains open; I like to think she yearned for the thrill of others peering in on her life, no matter how temporal the glimpse. A passerby - a stranger - that she'd never know. I knew it probably wasn't true, but it helped me sleep at night.\n\nI'd been seeing her for almost a year now. There was a rough patch when she first broke up with that guy from the intramural track team. She could do much better than him, and I told her that, but she would never listen to me. Afterward she swore off dating and has been focusing on her studies until Mr. Perfect came along. I've been right here ever since...\n\nThe shadows in the room began to wane as the sun sank out of the sky. Before long the whole room was a black hole and nothing could be distinguished from anything. \n\nA white flash. The room lit up - she was standing in the doorway, duffel in tow, hand hovering over the light switch. I found myself gasping. She looked worn out, like the long weekend took its toll, but still breathtakingly beautiful. Her hair was up in a messy pony and her _Odesza_ tank top had fallen off one shoulder. \n\nIn the distance I could hear a knocking. I couldn't help but wonder who would be visiting at this - no, wait. I snapped back to reality and glanced up from my monitor. \n\nAgent Jeffries was standing in the door to the office, beaming at me. \"Working late, huh?\"\n\nI looked at my watch: 11:21. _Shit_.\n\n\"Just filing some paperwork,\" I lied.\n\n\"Good man,\" he said with a smile. \"You keep this up and you'll be a surveillance agent in no time.\"\n\nI cautiously moved my hand and closed the video feed. \"Heh,\" I offered nervously, \"that'll be the day.\"\n\n\"Well, don't stay too late,\" he advised. \"Big day tomorrow. Director of the whole NSA will be in to run through some protocol changes. They say that someone has been logging into the surveillance network off hours...\"\n\nI feigned shock. \"Oh, oh wow. I'd hate to be that guy.\"\n\n\"Yeah,\" Jeffries nodded. \"At least we've got nothing to worry about. Catch you tomorrow.\" He turned and trotted out of the doorway.\n\nI hadn't realized that I was sweating profusely. _I wonder if Jeffries noticed..._", "\nI spent the morning scribbling down a cheat sheet of her favourites. Artist: Kahlo. Author: Plath. Singer: Ariana Grande. She usually met her friend Sarah for coffee on Wednesday morning but Sarah would be having an unexpected call from a certain government department today. \n\n \n\nI slumped in my Ford F-Series, knowing she'd balk at the sight of it, while I waited for her to arrive. Three minutes after she went in, I grabbed my battered copy of The Bell Jar (second-hand) and followed her. I ordered a green tea, took a seat at the table next to her and began to read. My attention rested firmly on her movements in my periphery until I realised I better turn the page at some point. She tried calling someone, presumably Sarah, multiple times before she gave up. I thought she might leave but then I saw her eyes lazily scan the room until they stopped on the book I was reading. \n\n \n\n\"Sylvia Plath,\" she said, \"I love her.\" \n\n \n\n\"Hmm? Oh – yes - I'm just re-reading this for the fourth time. Kind of embarrassing but I'm a bit of a fanboy,\" I said. \n\n \n\nShe smiled at me like I was a West Highland Terrier in the YouTube videos she watched. \n\n \n\n\"I'm Grace,\" she said. \n\n \n\n\"Tom.\" \n\n \n\n\"Do you go to school here?\" she asked. We were sitting just outside UCLA campus. \n\n \n\n\"Not anymore. Graduated a few years back, but I just love this place. The green tea is amazing.\" \n\n \n\nShe held up her cup. \n\n \n\n\"You're telling me,\" she said, and took a sip. \n\n \n\n\"I know this is going to sound completely random,\" I said, \"but my friend cancelled on me last minute and I've got two tickets to the Ariana Grande concert tonight. Would you be interested?\" \n\n \n\n\"Oh my God, those things sold out in like two minutes. I'd love to!\" \n\n \n\nWe exchanged contact details and arranged a spot for me to pick her up (\"Oh wow, you only live like 10 minutes away.\") I drove straight home, showered and dressed before grabbing my laptop and opened our live feed. The laptop on the other end was closed down so I left it open while I played a few games of Fortnite. Soon, the screen lit up and Grace began a Skype call with Sarah. \n\n \n\n\"Wow, look who finally answers,\" Grace said. \n\n \n\n\"Grace, I'm so sorry but I got a really weird call this morning. Something about files on my computer. It's fine now but I was so scared,\" Sarah said. \n\n \n\n\"Oh, I didn't know, don't be sorry, Sarah,\" she said. \n\n \n\nAfter a few rounds of back and forth apologies, Grace told Sarah about the \"handsome\" stranger she met, who was taking her to a concert tonight. \n\n \n\n\"Grace! You just met him. He could be a murderer or a stalker or something,\" Sarah said. Her face was inches from the camera. \n\n \n\n\"He seemed nice. Relax,\" Grace said. \"I'll call you if things get weird,\" she added after seeing Sarah's face.\n\n \n\nThis seemed to calm Sarah down and the two of them talked about school work until Grace said she had to go and get changed. \n\nGrace picked a dress off a hanger and started to remove her top. I pulled the laptop closer to me, willing her to reveal what was underneath, but she turned her back to the screen and moved into the bathroom. I heard the shower running and she walked out in a towel and closed her laptop over. Fuck. \n\n \n\nI picked her up about 7 and she fawned over Ariana Grande the whole way there. I had the albums downloaded on my phone and let her use the AUX the flick through them. The concert itself was okay, I guess. Ariana Grande is super hot so I wasn't really complaining, but being surrounded by screaming teenage girls is never a fantastic experience. We left the arena afterwards and I slung my arm around Grace's shoulder. She snuggled her head into my chest. \n\n \n\n\"Hey, it's still early,\" she said, \"why don't we go back to my place and listen to the songs she didn't perform tonight?\" \n\n \n\n\"Hmm,\" I said, as if I'd rather do anything else, \"sure, sounds like fun.\" \n\n \n\nWe pulled around to the front of her apartment building and she made a peculiar noise. \n\n \n\n\"What's up?\" I asked. \n\n \n\n\"My roommate's car isn't where she usually parks it. She told me she'd be home by 8,\" she said. \n\n \n\n\"I'm sure she's fine,\" I said, wondering how long into her roommate's journey to Colorado it would take for her to realise her mother is actually fine. \n\n \n\nWe walked up the steps to her door and I had the perfect view of her hips swaying from side to side. I had to stop myself from reaching out to grab her. \n\n \n\n\"Do you want a beer?\" She said when we got in. She opened the fridge and leaned against the door. \n\n \n\n\"You drink beer?\" I said, inspecting the apartment for the first time in person. \n\n \n\n\"No, not really. It's my roommate's but she wouldn’t mind if I took one or two.\" \n\n \n\n\"Yeah,\" I said, \"you posted on Reddit last week that beer makes you really bloated.\" \n\n \n\nShe chuckled. \"Yeah, well you kno- wait. How did you know I wrote that?\" ", "Sometimes, I watch Stacey when she sleeps. She has this bad habit of leaving her laptop propped open. The little red light of her webcam blinks through the dark, and I sit, hundreds of miles away, watching Stacey's outline coalesce on my grainy NSA observation screen. \n\nBlink. \n\nBlink. \n\nBlink. \n\nUntil the sun rises. \n\nTomorrow will make a year's worth of observation for me. Three-hundred-sixty-five days of Stacey McDonnough, hardlined through her webcam or her phone, or her car's bluetooth speakers. My boss can't complain, because this project of mine is all on my own free time. That doesn't stop my colleagues from frowning, though. They whisper nasty rumors. I'm sure they think I'm crazy. Hell, most people would agree. But I've seen something in Stacey; something the others can't quite glean. \n\nMy original briefing read:\n\n> Stacey McDonnough is a seventeen year old female with alarming genetic and social markers. Father was killed in a mosque. Mother is continuously in rehab. Stacey McDonnough is flagged as potential security risk. Observation recommended. \n\nSee, that's the problem with all our briefs. How do you boil a human down to a few sentences? All our marks are so much more. Stacey is just another case in point. \n\nTrust me. I've seen.\n\nMost nights I marvel at her eyes. They're large and beautiful, but I can't quite tell what color they are. Some nights they look as blue as a bar sign, but that might just be the glare. Other times they look like they might just be chestnut--dark and rich and full of character. Most other nights she's crying too hard to see any color at all. \n\n\"Sweet girl,\" I whisper, as pointless as that might seem. \"You'll be just fine.\"\n\nIf I were to present my findings, my superiors would cluck. They'd rifle through the reddit logs, the midnight text messages, the twitter post history, and their foreheads would crinkle so deep they might as well be trenches. \"We're concerned about you, John. You need to move on,\" they might say in those gruff, apathetic voices. \"She's just a moody girl. No further observing required.\"\n\nI'd shuffle on my feet and beg they reconsider. \n\n\"You don't understand,\" I might say, face pale as the moon. \"Yesterday she bought a gun.\" \n\nI'd heard her make the purchase through her pocketed iPhone. Her granular voice struck me like a bell. \n\n\"This will have no problem killing, yeah?\" \n\nMy heart sank as her bank account drained itself of several hundred dollars. \n\nOf course, I'd never actually report Stacey to my superiors. That would fuck everything up royally. To be honest, most would report me for failing at my duties. I can hear their words now. \"Your little obsession could kill innocent civilians.\" They'd spit in my face and label me a creep. \n\nBut then again, most don't understand. \n\nIf I report her, the police will storm her little apartment. She'll end in jail, further jaded to society. Or she'll bounce in and out of rehab like her mother, never quite getting the help she needs. \n\nIf that happened...I don't know how I'd go on. \n\nToday, when she comes home after school, she turns the pistol over a thousand times atop her study. My hands go so clammy as I watch those familiar emotions ripple across her face. I breathe a heavy sigh of relief as the sweet girl tucks the pistol inside her drawer. Her face is still wet with tears when she tucks in for sleep. \n\nI watch her blankets shudder, making a silent promise to never report her. \n\nInstead, I break all protocol and send her a message. I don't know what else to do. \n\nYou see, I'd been suicidal too, once. Until a stranger said something kind.\n\nThe little green letters flash on her screen. \n\n\"You are loved.\"\n\nBlink. \n\nBlink. \n\nBlink. \n\nUntil the sun rises. \n\nIn the morning, she might raise her eyebrows in surprise. But maybe the message will sink in. \n\nBecause tomorrow will be a year's worth of observing Stacey McDonnough.\n\nAnd I'm desperately hoping for many more. \n\n-----------\n\nr/M0Zark" ]	13
	[WP] “Honey? Could you make a sandwich?” “I’d love to, but last I recall you died five years ago.” “Well maybe the sandwich isn’t for me, silly.”	[ "Recently I was diagnosed with multiple personality disorder. My parents always thought it was my imagination, I knew better. It all started when I was five years old with my best friend, Maxie. Maxie loved the slide, we would spend our summer after on at the park riding it over and over again. I remember the long conversations we would have about everything, and anything. Of course I knew Maxie wasn't real, but that didn't concern my frazzled 5yo brain, quite honestly I couldn't care less. \n\nMy parents always worried for me. They we're concerned because I never had any \"real friends\" of course I protested Maxie and myselfs friendship was as real as anything. I would often describe her to my parents. They would just stare at me, confused at the exactness, and precision of my description of a character thought to be fictional. I just laughed their comments off my resolve and attitude was impenetrable. My life was good. Was...\n\nOne night, long after I had went to sleep I awoke to the sceam of my mother. I ran downstairs to observe the cause of all the commotion. On the other floor I found my mother, mouth agape staring at the computer screen in horror. On the screen was a sight I still have nightmares about today; It was Maxie, but not the one I know. The Maxie on the screen was twisted, and contorted unnaturally. I read the headline on the post, \"(1998) 5yo child Maxie found dead after falling off a slide unsupervised.\" It was the same Maxie I play with everyday, matching my verbal description exactly.\n\nMy mother shunned me ever since then. She called me a demon, a monster of this world. That was untill the axicent...\n\n\n“Honey? Could you make a sandwich?” “I’d love to, but last I recall you died five years ago.” “Well maybe the sandwich isn’t for me, silly.”\n\"I know mom\" I smiled as I stood up, and headed into the kitchen. \"Hurry up bro!\" A voice sqeaked from the other room. \"The movies starting.\" Said the familiar voice of my father.\" \n\n\" I know, coming Maxie...\"\n", "I brought out the watercress, and the rye bread; butter, and salt, and got to work, just as I’d been ordered.\n\n“This must be how it begins,” I muttered to myself. “Doris, I’ve been of perfectly sound mind until now,” I said, to the empty room. “In spite of being ninety-five years old. And now you’re calling to me. Is this a sign I should prepare to go meet you, now?”\n\nThere was no answer. But I’d heard her voice, clear as day, just moments before. “Honey? Could you make me a sandwich?” she’d called out, from the next room. \n\n“What?” I’d croaked. I must be imagining things, I thought to myself. I knew I was hard-of-hearing, but I hated wearing those damn hearing aids my children attempted to force upon me every time they visited and had to yell in my ear so I’d understand them. After Doris died, I’d become accustomed to the comfortable silence of life alone. Hearing aids made the world too noisy, and whenever I put them in, the ambient noise was simply too jarring. I could hear every rustle of the wind outside, every creak of the old house we’d built together in our youth; even the sound, sometimes, of my own breathing. And now, when I'd laid them aside for several days in a row, I’d heard a voice – a soft voice, a voice unstrained by yelling towards my deaf ears, a voice that was high, and sweet, just like hers had been, even if I’d imagined it. \n\n “I’d love to,” I finally called out, haltingly, feeling as though I should explain what we both knew. “But last I recall, you died five years ago.”\n\nThen, her delightful chuckle punctuated the air, concluding in that tsk sound she made, especially when I was being obstinate, as though she found it charming. “Well, maybe the sandwich isn’t for me, silly,” she’d chortled.\n\nI’d fetched a plate, and spread out the ingredients. If this was going to be a sandwich Doris was ordering me to make, I’d make her favourite. She’d loved watercress best, even though I’d constantly griped that it had just about no nutritional content whatsoever, and was basically unfit for humans. \n\n“Leave me alone with my rabbit food,” she’d always protest. “You don’t have to eat it.” \n\nWell, I thought to myself, as I buttered the bread lightly, I wasn’t going to eat this rabbit food, either. She’d better have some more worthy guest of honour in mind. I’d argued with the grocery delivery boy that he’d delivered the wrong package, that week; a bunch of fancy cheeses, and fresh produce, including this batch of watercress I’d never ordered, and he’d looked over the grocery list, and scratched his head, and then returned, hours later, at the end of his shift, with the right parcel of food to fulfill my original checklist. \n\n“Take this back,” I’d pleaded with him, shoving the first parcel in his direction. “I’m a single old man. I can only eat so much. This food going to go to waste.”\n\n“If I take it, I’ll just have to throw it out,” he shrugged. “We can’t return the food. Have a party, or something.”\n\nI’d chuckled good-naturedly. “Will you attend?” I asked. “I don’t have quite so many friends around.” \n\n“I’m a little busy,” he laughed. “But let me know when it is, and I’ll be there.” I smiled; he was kind, to humor me. All my friends were long gone; there were so few men older than eighty around, even in nursing homes, and fewer still who were still able to live in their own homes. That unused watercress in the fridge had begun to bother me, yet I knew I couldn’t bring myself to eat it. \n\n“It’s going to make me immortal,” Doris had always teased me, after I’d complained that she needed to eat something more nutritious. “I’m going to be so healthy I’ll never die.”\n\n“Psh, woman,” I’d chastised her. “You’re going to tempt the gods, if you keep talking that way.”\n\n“Let them come for me,” she’d said. “I’m going to fight them off. You won’t see me die,” she said, laughter dancing in her brown eyes. “One day you’re going to find I’m simply gone – I’ll transform.”\n\n“Into what, my dear?” I asked her.\n\n“Into a giant rabbit,” she’d howled, laughing far too much at her own joke, as she always did. “Thanks to the rabbit food you always tease me about eating. I’ll wander outside to the garden, and I’ll have a perfectly happy second life there. You’ll see.”\n\nThis transformation hadn’t gone at all like she’d planned. It started slowly: first, she forgot how to cook, little by little. An odd use of seasoning in one of her fancy cakes she baked Sunday afternoons; Chinese five-spice instead of cinnamon. Then, suddenly, far worse slippages of memory: she’d pulled out a pack of brillo pads from under the sink, one night, and marveled at them. “I think we could eat this for dinner, Lionel,” she’d exclaimed. “Have you ever tried these? Look how colourful they are! I bet they’re delicious!” \n\n“You’re overtired, my dear,” I said, my heart sinking. It was far worse than I’d realized; I’d been pretending, too long, that she was all right, when she definitely wasn’t. “This isn’t food. Go lie down for a bit. I’ll fix us some sandwiches.”\n\nShe had gone to take a nap, but when she’d woken, she’d been groggy and confused. “Want to go home,” she’d muttered, her eyes darting around the interior of the familiar bedroom, in which she’d lain down to rest nightly for nearly sixty years. “Take me home, Lionel.”\n\n“My darling,” I’d soothed, my heart breaking in half, because this was the house in which we’d raised our five children – we’d never known any other, together. “This is home.”\n\n“Take me home,” she pleaded, tears welling in her eyes. “Lionel- please,” she begged me, and with that look on her face, I couldn’t refuse her. \n\nI put shoes on her feet, and brought her outside; something about the fresh air, and the garden, cool and green in the twilight, seemed restful for her. She wandered about the yard, as if recalling herself; she paused by the rhododendron bush, gloriously full of pink blooms, and touched it gently with her fingertips.\n\n“Home,” she murmured to herself, and stroked the flower. She sat down on the grass, and I sank down beside her; in my aged bones, I wasn’t sure if we would ever be able to get back up again. Thirty minutes later, I pushed myself up, slowly, rolling first to my hands and knees, and then staggering from there to my feet. With great effort, from a half-crouch, I managed to pull Doris upright again. She’d smiled softly at me as she walked, peacefully, inside the house, as though she’d forgotten her own protest that it wasn’t home anymore.\n\nThat was my very last memory of her; her, as she was, that is. In the end – I didn’t like to think about it. She’d been almost animalistic; howling, angry, emitting guttural moans more than speech. “HOME,” she’d sometimes yell at me, when I visited, her face wrenched in anger. “LIONEL. HOME,” she’d repeat, and I’d leave her side when visiting hours were over, and cry in my solitary bed. \n\nAll these memories washed over me, and all I had to show for it was one sandwich, which was never meant for me, although I’d made it; green watercress, fresh as a spring morning, on slightly-stale rye bread. I blinked back tears. I’d take it outside with me to the garden. It would be a fitting tribute to her. \n\n", "“Honey? could you make me a sandwich?” The familiar voice echoed across the empty hallway into the sparsely furnished living room. Todd sat in his worn-out lounger with a steady stream of 24-hour news droning on the TV in front of him.\n\n“I’d love too, but last I recall, you died five years ago.” His monotonous voice added to the sad symphony of the scripted news program. He had said this before, in fact, many times before. Caroline was always asking him for things. He would just remind her she was dead and the voice would stop for a while.\n\n“Well, maybe the sandwich isn’t for me, silly”\n\nTodd’s eyebrow raised. This part was new, “Well, who is it for then?”\n\n“Todd…” the drawn out pronunciation of his name was something Caroline did often. He didn’t think she was a nag when she was alive, but he sometimes acted as though he did. He was full of regret –he would give anything to have her nag him again.\n\n“Todd, you need to eat something. I’m worried about you. I know this last year has been harder than the four before it, but you need to turn your life around. Move on.”\n\nTodd sighed, he knew she was right, but moving out of that chair would be next to impossible.\n\n“Honey,” Todd sighed, “First I lost you, then I lost my job, now I’m out of money and I’m going to lose the apartment. I don’t need a sandwich.” He continued to stare blankly at the screen as advertisements for life changing drugs flashed in front of him.\n\nCaroline’s disembodied voice continued, “Todd, this will be the last time I talk to you. I’m at rest and moving on. You need to do the same. I love you.”\nA tear came to Todd’s eye. As he was about to respond, there was a knock at the door. He got up from his chair and opened it. It was his neighbor Fran. \n\n“Todd?” Fran said in a concerned tone.\n\n\n“Oh, hey, I was just watching some news.”\n\nShe looked at him skeptically, “Todd, you were doing that voice thing again. That high pitched, low pitched thing? Have you been taking your meds?”\n\nTodd stared at her blankly and started to cry.\n\n“Here Todd, let me make you something to eat and we’ll lay your pills out for the week again, okay?”\n\nTodd shook his head in agreement and let her through the door.\n" ]	3
	[WP] "Everyone, meet Frank." Frank does an awkward little wave. "After getting absolutely smashed on what passes for alcohol on this planet, I've decided that Frank will be your new supreme dictator."	[ "\"Everyone, meet Frank.\" \n\nFrank made an awkward little wave. \n\nDavin continued. \"After getting absolutely smashed on what passes for alcohol on this planet, I've decided that Frank will be your new supreme dictator. Peace.\"\n\nApparently under the impression that it was a microphone, Davin threw the cleaning fluid bottle to the rocky ground, where it smashed. \n\nIn a normal tone, Davin said to Frank, \"well, it's yours now buddy.\"\n\nHe stepped into the planetary module and fired it up. \n\n\"Wait! Don't leave me!\" Frank hurried to chase him, but in his drunken state, Davin paid no heed. The module was already lifting off. It was gone. \n\nFrank was left on the surface. He turned in a slow circle, gazing out at the emptiness.\n\nHe was completely and utterly alone." ]	1
	[WP] You are injured and unable to move in the middle of a battlefield. An enemy soldier is shot down right next to you, so you can’t hurt each other, but you can still talk to each other. You slowly bond with this soldier while the fight is happening around you.	[ "The entire thing was a shitshow, so it wasn't surprising where I ended up. Three more holes than I was born with, and at the rate it was going I'd be short one arm by the end of it all. If there was one.\n\nThe poorly\\-built barn on the edge of the hot zone had been disregarded. The structure was so weak it would not have held up to any sort of sustained fire, and it was small enough that using it for storage of even rations would have been pointless. Besides, it lay in the middle of an old cornfield, so there was no hiding on the way in or out. Except for me, but that's because I was a GD prodigy at ghillie\\-craft. However, I was less talented at functioning when some snipers finally spotted me. I'd be surprised if they didn't send a small group to finish me off, but until then, I figured I'd find something to complain about. I was pretty pissed about my rifle being shot through and rendered useless, so maybe I'd start with that.\n\nSo here I was, propped up against the inside of a barn that hadn't been used in years, with the smell of rotten wood and musty hay filling my bloody nostrils. The battle raged on outside, not so close that I could tell who was winning but close enough that mortar rounds and tank shells rattled my chest, causing me to cough and bleed more. Great.\n\nAs expected, I started to hear shouting, and it wasn't the usual jarhead commands. I didn't understand these words, which meant I fully understood their basic meaning \\- it was the bad guys, and they were ready to kill me. Fair enough, with my body count it was probably their turn to add some tallies. However, it was as the voices got closer to the shed that a friendly tank \$I know the thump of an Abrams when I hear it\$ dropped an HE round right at their feet.\n\nI could only imagine what his squad looked like, but I didn't have to imagine what he did. As his body blasted through the wall of the barn, it left a rather symmetrical arc of blood across the stacked boxes inside, and his body crunched as it wrapped around a support beam. His right leg, which had struck up its own rebellion, continued on, crashing through a window frame on the other side.\n\nHe lay there for minutes before finally rolling over, groaning loudly and clearly not feeling as well as he was the day before. As he realized what had happened, I could see the shock set in and knew his pain levels were still pretty low. He dragged himself to where his rifle had landed \\- or, most of it anyway \\- and took account of the situation before leaning against a hay bale.\n\nIt was clearly unpleasant for him, and once he'd set himself up against the bale and finally looked around the barn, he saw me. My good hand was giving him the middle finger, while the bad hand sported a thumbs up. He screamed, reached for his sidearm that I knew wasn't there, and then froze. I dropped the conflicting gestures and went with the old tried\\-and\\-true \"what are you gonna do about it\" shoulder shrug. He relaxed a bit, but I could tell the trust wasn't there. Yet. But I knew what'd get him.\n\nI reached into my tattered jacket, a move that sent him back to full alert, and withdrew a few pictures. I tossed them over to him and he stared at them, then me, then back to them before picking them up. As he opened them I smiled; Christy Mack, Kate Upton, I knew they were American women but with international appeal. His eyes got big, then he smiled. He tossed them back and gave me a thumbs up, which I returned. He then tossed me a picture from his coat pocket, laughing. I was disappointed to see an old lady standing next to this guy, probably his mother, so to convey my frustration I slid my pointer finger in and out of a hole I made with my other hand. He gave me the bird, then laughed.\n\nThis went on in a weird way. I had water left in my canteens, which I shared, and he busted out his last morphine injectors. We both gave ourselves a good injection of the stuff, which helped with the pain, and the tension. Through broken translations, we talked about our roles \\- I was sniper \$he wasn't happy about that\$, and he was a medic pulled to the front lines due to attrition. I was from Texas, which he indicated was all cowboys, and he was from...somewhere. Texans aren't geography buffs for anywhere outside of Texas.\n\nAfter an hour, the sounds of battle seemed to have faded off to the east, which meant my side was winning...and leaving. It wasn't until we heard the sounds of airplane engines droning above and the ground began thumping erratically that we realized the flyboys had come to clean up the mess.\n\nHe fished into his cargo pocket, pulled out a flask, and took a long swig before tossing it to me. I took one as well, which finished off what was left. He gave me a thumbs up, which I returned, as the bombs finally found their mark.", "This wasn’t a war we expected to win. When the United States invaded Canada without warning, it was decided quickly. The big cities like Vancouver, Quebec City, Ottawa, Edmonton, Calgary, Toronto, Montreal and Hamilton were taken without much damage. Sure there were riots, but it wasn’t like an army was fighting another army. It was an empire stomping on a world village. \n\nThing is, we Canadians are stubborn. People who wanted to fight like the Metis, First Nations, Irish, Chinese, Caucasians, third generation refugees from the Middle East, and anyone who identified as a Canadian and didn’t want to turn over for the Americans retreated north. We came together as a people, we helped, fight, and died for each other. Why? Because in the end we know a Canadian is a Canadian is a Canadian and we will stand on guard. \n\nThe Americans needed to push north, they knew the water supply near the territories is what they really want. With that supply they’ll be able to restabilize their economy and become one of the largest suppliers of fresh water to the world. In November at the height of Canada’s winter in Northwest Territories we stood our ground at Fort Simpson as the Americans stormed the Northern fort. \n\nEven though we followed guerilla tactics throughout the last several months, it was like throwing rocks at a giant bear. When fighting with a bear head on, a rock wouldn’t do much good. I was already injured after a shell exploded in a building I was in, I was trapped underneath some rubble on the first floor. With every block the Americans take, they sweep all the buildings for survivors. Two soldiers entered my partially destroyed building. They made it up to the second floor, then the building fully collapsed on itself from the damage. \n\n“Eh, you okay?” I yell out at the American. I try to move my head so I can see the man but wasn’t able to spot him. \n\n“What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck” the man screamed in a deep voice. \n\n“Roger? You okay man? Roger?” He asked. \n\nBuildings up North were built in the early 1900’s, they weren’t meant to be used as shelter during a fire fight. \n\n“Hey, you got to calm down eh?” I yelled back, hoping the man can hear me. Being crushed between pieces of wood and brick makes it hard for me to speak without a bit of pain. \n\n“Yo, whose there?” The American solider shouted.\n\nI paused, not sure what to answer. The man was agitated and scared. \n\n“You okay?” I asked, changing the subject. \n\n“My ankle is fucked and I can’t see the door. My friend Roger has his head caved in. Can you help us out of here?”\n\n“Sorry, I’m stuck here. I was waiting for you guys to either shoot me or rescue me.” I replied. \n\n“Fuck, you a Geese?” He asked. Slang for rebel/insurgent. \n\n“Canadian.” I replied. \n\n“Fuck that. We all American now. That’s why it’s called North America” \n\n“What’s your name? Mine is Kenny McDonald.” \n\n“Dennis Rogers, born in Detroit.” \n\n“Wish these were better circumstances, but nice meeting you.” I say. \n\n“Fuck you man, this is all your fucking fault. You and your fake ass nice attitude. You’re trying to kill me bro.” He replied, there was truth to it. It was war after all, most of the time we end up leaving American soldiers injured since we’re unable to take back prisoners. They, I’m sure try and take us prisoner as well and make us work in the water purification plants. We stay silent for a moment, then gun fire picks up again. This is the second phase of our defensive strategy, lure them into the town and surround them. Gun fire and explosions pick up again. \n\n“Yo, what’s going on outside? Thought you all retreated?” Dennis yelled. I stayed silent, listening to the yells and screaming of soldiers attacking each other. \n\n“Hey man, no need to be a fucking weirdo. I know you out there. Fucking talk.” He demanded. \n\n“Fine, but… can we talk about something else? What made you come up here?” I asked, changing the subject. I didn’t want to give any information to him just in case he was able to radio back to his officer. \n\n“Work. It’s a job. Back home it’s either this, flipping burgers, or hustling in the streets. I chose this instead of jail, rather get paid than locked up you feel me?”\n\nI assumed Dennis was younger than myself in my thirties by how he acted, but I couldn’t tell. \n\n“How much you paying you for coming up North?” I asked, curious. \n\n“Fuck, not enough to get my ass frozen and shot at by fucking crazy ass Canadains for sure. Ya’ll fucking come at us with bows and arrows and shit. What’s up with that?”\n\nNot everyone had a gun at the start of the war. We started out with bows from sporting goods stores and attacked at night at American campsites or where we knew soldiers were staying. \n\n“Past time. You use what you get, we don’t have such easy access to guns.” \n\n“What that mean? You think we gun crazy shooting each other type of assholes?” He asked.\n\n“No it—“ \n\n“Bitch, we have cities with more people in your country combine. There is going to be some disgruntled psycho who want to take justice in his own hands. But man, most of us are trying to get by. We don’t need no fucking holier than though talk from you assholes. You want to be real? We’re fighting each other and yet you’re thinking we’re the crazy assholes trying to destroy everything?” \n\nI didn’t reply back. Instead I listened to the gun shots outside. Several minutes went by. \n\n“Yo man, Ken is it? You got a radio or something. I can’t reach mine.” \n\n“No, we don’t have radios.” I replied. Our militia wasn’t properly equipped for the type of war we were fighting. \n\n“Fuck man, I don’t want to die out here. I got a kid at home I need to look after.” \n\n“Son or daughter?” \n\n“Little girl, she’s 3 now. Turning 4 in June. She’s so fucking smart, I’m hoping that we can get her to a proper school. I never had a change growing up, always had to hang around my big brother and his work. You got kids bro?” \n\n“No, never wanted any. Probably a reason why I joined the resistance. Thought if I had to do something with my life it’s to protect my country.” \n\n“Fuck that country shit. Why is it so important to you? It’s that type of patriotism that has us in this situation.” \n\n“Really? Coming from an American?” I asked. \n\n“Eh man, I’m not here for Uncle Sam, I’m here to get paid.”\n\n“Well I want to protect my country.”\n\n“It ain’t yours no more it’s ours.” \n\nThe gunfire dies down again, we’re both silent to see who won. I wouldn’t expect us to win the fight against the Americans. \n\n“Who do you think won out there?” Dennis asked. \n\n“I don’t know.” I have a feeling it was an Americans, we didn’t really plan to win this. We thought we could, but we had more places to retreat to it wasn’t a priority to win. \n\n“Hey, if we come out of this man, give us some information. I can probably help you out and make sure you don’t end up in jail or water work camp or some shit.” He suggested. \n\n“But you know, don’t scalp me.” He added. The American military often describes to their troops how brutal we were in a fight. Fighting with bows & arrows, leaving soldiers injured to die, and scalping off the heads of the enemy. \n\n“I won’t.” \n\nGunfire dies down again, and soon after footsteps can be heard on top of us. We both scream for help. Digging then commences. \n\n“Eh, anyone still down there?” Someone shouted in a Native accent. \n\n“Oi, I’m down here.” The digging started coming towards my end of the destroyed house. Within moments I was able to see the night sky. Standing over me was a first nations man dressed white fur to mix in with snowy landscape. Hanging from his coat were scalps/heads of enemies he had killed prior. \n\n“Is it just you? Thought I heard voices.” He asked. \n\nI thought about Dennis, unsure what would happen to him if he was found. I decided to do the safe route. \n\n“Just me. Help me out please.” \n\nI felt guilty that night and for the rest of the war. We left the area that night, so I hope the American army swept the area and found Dennis, but the cold nights makes it hard for people to survive. But I promised him that I made sure no harm would come to him, and I did what I could. \n", "It was 44', France, Germans held out without mercy. I can still remember the engine of the Skytrain getting blown out, right door opening, and seeing my buddies' blood floating in front of my eyes. I felt the wind of bullets passing by me, I could feel the parachute going down faster as it filled with more holes. I remember landing in a field, soft yet hard dirt. When I got up, I fell down, as shrapnel enforced lightning seemingly sent by God himself came down upon my legs. I was lucky though, just to have my legs maimed, unlike the other paratroopers mowed down by the nests of MG-42s and other buzzsaws made only to cut the wood. I threw my rifle knowing that any attempt to fight back would just grant me a swift end, though it may have been a better option based on my circumstances. I slowly dragged myself towards a nearby barn and rested my mangled self against some hay. \n\nI know they'd be coming for me, they make sure to clean up every last one. I heard the crunch of dry grass. The distinct sound of a gun strap with its light clank of the metal links. I prepared myself for it, clenching my fists in the hay around me. I saw first the shadow, the barrel of an SMG slowly scanning the barn, getting ready to unleash its sinister purpose in life towards mine, and bang, the shot of a Springfield blew into his shoulder. I still remember that face of pure agony when he got hit, the thud and the yell of utter torment. He was a still a soldier, however, and had some intelligence still left inside him, as he immediately crawled away from the open barn doors, pushed them partly closed with his legs, and rested himself a few feet away, pretending not to notice me.\n\nEven though my injuries seemed worse than his, my adrenaline and total shock barely made me care. There was no fighting now, how could there be? Even if either one of us managed to kill the other, they would be dead anyway due to blood loss or a sniper pinning them down. I didn't know if he spoke English, I didn't know if he'd even be stupid enough to try and attack me, but I did what the last bit of humanity still holding inside me wanted to do and offered a piece of my shredded pants to him, so he could wrap the bullet hole before it got worse. I waved the piece of bloody cloth in front of him, and after a few seconds he accepted the gesture and started to slowly wrap around his shoulder under his pits with the little strip of rag. We didn't talk until a few minutes later, both of us staring at the opposite wall. I knew that I needed to focus my mind on something than the blood flowing from what was my legs, even dying with a respectable conversation would be better than dying silently, so I simply said \"English?\". He gathered his thoughts for a few moments and simply replied with a \"Yes.\" in a thick German accent. I asked where he learned English, and he told me that it was from his previous trips to America studying medicine and other things, and I told him of my studying in engineering and railroad schematics. We talked about our past, our future, our spouses, our children. We talked about what a waste of the human race the war was, but before we could go further, I saw black.\n\nWhat I expected my next sight to be was the pearly gates of heaven, was this German, inside an American first aid tent stripped of his tools and weapons and missing his shirt, which was wrapped around my legs. This man who was supposed to be my bringer of death brought me life. We made sure to contact each other and meet after the war. Though it's strange seeing a German push an American soldier in a wheelchair after World War 2, I didn't care. We shared our hopes and passions like brothers, and though we may have our scars, these scars bind us and remind us that at the end of the day we're all just humans, lost in a world of chaos and misguidance." ]	3
	[WP] Nothing belonged in the desert. Nothing but sand and wind and... Well, that's what I was there to find out.	[ "It was hot.\n\nScorchingly hot.\n\nThe sun beat down mercilessly on the arid sands. Not a tree was in sight, not even a rock. Nowhere to hide from the slow, unrelenting burn. Even the dry wind only worsened the heat, stealing away your precious moisture with every jealous breeze.\n\n\"How many?\" you wondered. How many had come before you? How many had come, walked, given their lives chasing a dream, chasing a lie?\n\nYou had been warned, of course. Everyone had told you not to go, that it was suicide to enter the desert.\n\n\"Nobody who goes in comes out again. Not alive, not dead.\"\n\nThat's what they'd told you. If only you had listened.\n\nNow it was too late to turn back. The last time you saw another living thing was weeks ago. The last time you drank water was days ago.\n\nYou had saved it, of course. You had held back for as long as you could. Until you couldn't handle it anymore, until your lips were sandpaper and your tongue was cardboard. Until you couldn't bear to be alive. Then you drank the last of the water. The last of that silver, delicious, life\\-giving ambrosia.\n\nAnd now all you had left was an empty bottle, smacking against your leg with every step. Dead weight. Just like you, soon enough.\n\nLeft foot.\n\nRight foot.\n\nIt was endless, the walking. Miles and miles and miles, never stopping, never ending. Just dragging your feet, one after the other.\n\nLeft foot.\n\nRight foot.\n\nLeft foot.\n\nRight f\\-\n\nThen you trip. You stumble and fall, landing rough on the grainy sand. You lie there, and just sift your hands through the loose grains, feeling them run through your fingers.\n\nSo this is where it ends.\n\nIt could be worse, I guess. Some people die in worse ways. Some drown. Some die in pain. Some are killed by other people. Some are eaten by other people. Here you're just slowly breathing away all your moisture. Slowly breathing yourself to death. And there's nothing left for you. No treasure, no magical kingdom. Nothing but sand and sun and heat.\n\nStill, you close your eyes and think to yourself:\n\nMan, what a shitty way to die.", "On this horizonless sandy plain, under the stark afternoon sun, there were no obvious stopping places. Instead we watched the llamas for signs they were getting tired, which presently they were, so we broke and set up our equipment again. Sofia wove between the llamas with water and hay as they resumed spitting and squabbling amongst themselves - she assures us that this is their natural way - and the more docile inquisitively trod over to her, looking for victuals. The way of the expedition’s natural philosophers was to bookishly pore over instruments, charts and journals, melodramatically but cordially discussing their theories and counter-theories over tea. Yes, Mr Cannon was boiling the water even as the thought occurred.\n\nThe kettle had just begun to whine when the llamas’ ears flattened, and with a bray they fell still and silent. A shush flitted round the group and Mr Cannon whipped the lid off the kettle to stifle it. I couldn’t see anything among the mirages, not even with my spyglass. Ms Highbury, however, was peering through her mounted twin telescopes, panning until she stopped, fixated on a single far-off point.\n\n“Caravan. Forty llamas. Four wagons.”\n\n“Can you make out any sigils or identifications?” I asked her, striding over. She relinquished the scopes, sooty grease ringing her eyes. At the behest of her dark expression, I looked through the lenses. There were definitely more than forty, and though I couldn’t see sigils, they moved in a strict, unmistakable two-by-two formation. I looked back at Ms Highbury.\n\n“The Muscovites - they’re here.” She nodded.\n\nI gave their bearings to Mr Goodge and Mr Heath, who set about their charts with dividers and other instruments, and engaged in a lively, muted discussion while the rest of us waited on their assessment. After a minute of back-and-forths about intrinsic geometries, non-linear models and such and such, I had grown impatient.\n\n“I don’t need anything exact, gentlemen, just give me the broad brush strokes.”\n\n“Well the short answer is that the Muscovites will-”\n\n“According to our projections-”\n\n“Which are of course fallible-”\n\n“As you well know-”\n\nI had to step in again. “Will the Muscovites reach the source before us?”\n\nGoodge and Heath looked at each other.\n\n“Yes,” they said as one.\n\n“But strong emphasis should be placed,” Goodge continued, “on the fact that there are no facts here. Ms Harrison is reporting a widening time dilation, and Mr Greenwich says that all of the stars are wandering. All of them. We really don’t know what this place is, or what we’re going to find as we get closer.”\n\n“And we are getting closer?”\n\n“Oh yes. That’s one thing we do know. We are drawing closer every day.”\n\nGoodge’s words didn’t inspire great optimism in me. I knew they would, however, interest the final members of our expedition, Ms Primrose and Ms Diaz, who had formed a scarily close bond over their mutual love of armaments, and who were spoiling for a fight. The fact that there were over forty Muscovites only sweetened the deal as far as they were concerned. I wandered a short distance to think.\n\nThe expedition had been assembled at the drop of a hat, by way of missives from London, who had in turn received disturbing reports from the borders of a distant region - reports of anomalies from the more reserved and philosophical, while the more superstitious talked of cursed things. We were now far inside those borders. The natural philosophers in the group all agreed that strange things were afoot, and that if this beast had a belly, we were very near indeed. They had all been seconded from their nearby scientific posts with the greatest urgency - as had I, wheeling my ship from its course to islands of finches, abandoning it with its crew at the shore by the feet of those giant mountains, and making the uncharted journey to the desert’s edge alone. It was there that I found the supplies and llamas gathered, along with the team I was supposed to command as we investigated the unnatural happenings.\n\nAnd now, the ten of us were outnumbered four to one by a caravan of Muscovites who were going to beat us to the heart of this nonsense. And seven of us were philosophers, not soldiers...\n\n“Lord Wessex!”\n\nAt the sound of my name, I rushed back over to Ms Harrison, who was darting between sextant and charts.\n\n“The sun,” she began, “it’s accelerating. It’s actually accelerating.”\n\nI glanced over her figures and a hasty graph she’d plotted, and stared at the dipping sun. It occurred to me that the vast majority of ‘anomalies’ had taken place under the cover of darkness, and suddenly I felt as if the sun were being dragged out of the sky. The better for darker purposes to unfold. I read Ms Harrison’s projections again. Sundown in eight minutes, total dark in twelve.\n\nI called for Ms Primrose and Ms Diaz to prep weapons. It was going to be a long night." ]	2
	[WP] When you die you see your game stats. Your murder stat is a lot higher than you thought.	[ "The steady beeping of the monitor was finally dying off. Four long months he has wasted away in this asylum, with no one to come and tell him stories, no one to make him feel better, no children to feel sympathy for him. He's been mostly forgotten by the living, with only the idiot doctors coming by to uselessly prolong his suffering. His will is empty, with no possessions to pass on to anyone. He had dedicated his life to his goal and in the end he had failed, but finally, his suffering is coming to an end.\n\nDeath. He had always thought it would be a peaceful oblivion, becoming aware of nothing, like going to sleep and never waking up again. Now that it had finally come for him, it was much different than he'd imagined. He was standing in a dark cloud, surrounded by darkness except for a large screen in the middle of nothing, lit up in front of him. It held a simple question on it: Do you want to see your game stats?\n\nHe laughed hoarsely, aware he probably looked like a madman but completely uncaring. So it was all a game. All of the suffering, all of the misery, and life was simply a game. \n\n\"Yes.\"\n\nThe screen briefly went black, then turned to a long list of numbers with brief explanations. His health, 0/100 of course. Average health of a paltry 15. Intelligence of 94, decent enough. Charisma of 12, well, he'd never been a charmer. Friends 0, of course he could never trust anyone on his quest, the fools would never understand. Animals killed 0, apparently burgers didn't count. Insects killed in the thousands, of course. Magic... so magic was real. He had been right after all. The fools had never understood in the same way he had, that magic had to be real. And he'd come so close to finding it in Egypt, but they had come and called him insane, refused to listen when he told them he'd found the secrets of magic were inside the pyramid, but they locked him away, put him on trial. They never listened to him. And now it was his fate after death to stare at the solitary 1 by magic. His eyes flittered over the combat stats, seeing 0s there. No real surprise. And yet.... under the achievements. Kill 100000 people. He searched the screen desperately now for the one statistic that mattered to him in the end and finally he found it. Kill count of 362880\n\nHad it been that many? He still remembered the first, needing the blood of a virgin he had been uncertain exactly how much blood was needed and decided to err on the side of caution, just spilling all of the screaming girl's blood. The sacrifice of 100 had been hard to figure out how to do. Blowing up the train station had been the surest way to kill at least a hundred, but surely the fools had fled after he gave the warning. And surely after he poisoned the water supply, they would have noticed and stopped using it. And the incident in St. Petersburg... he supposed it could have killed 1000 after all. How foolish they were, building their cathedral on an ancient summoning ground. It wasn't his fault, truly, they should have recognized the signs of magic around it. And the nuclear detonation was the only big enough power source. It wasn't his fault they hadn't taken precautions, that the energy he didn't need destroyed the area. \n\nThey had been accidents in the end. Culling of the hoi polloi for sake of enlightenment, to bring magic. What were the lives of the peasants, the ignorant fools, when he could have turned their world into a paradise with magic. And yet when they caught him they failed to applaud him for his sacrifices, thank him for finding the secret to magic at last. They called him insane and locked him away, repairing the pyramid, even replacing the treasure in the tomb again. He had been brilliant, he could have been anything, and when he threw it all away for their sake, they turned on him and tried to make him stop. Who else could have the will, the intelligence to do what was necessary? If they had only listened to him, they could have even spared some of the plebeians. What were their deaths for the sake of paradise? What was the sacrifice of just a few thousands for peace to all. He'd only killed hundreds of them really. They had failed the rest, it was their own fault for not helping him. If they had only listened. If only... they had listened... he could have been their god... he could have been a god." ]	1
	[WP] You just died. As your soul ascends to the heavens, you wonder what will God sound like, if he would take on the iconic voice of Morgan Freeman. As you approach the shining light above, you hear someone speak. "Number 15 Burger King foot lettuce..."	[ "I blinked a few times before I realized, I wasn’t truly blinking. In fact, I had no physical movement to speak of sans being pulled towards an unknown force acting upon me. I tried to recollect my thoughts as best I could as I tried to remember what had happened to lead me to this black void.\n\nAnd then it hit me. I didn’t see the truck as it veered. I must’ve been too busy screaming at Michael and Julia as they played that shit-filled dumpster fire they called “the greatest thing ever, probably.” If I could roll my eyes I would. But I couldn’t. No, I was just being pulled from the black void, ever closer towards a bright light. Which meant...\n\nFreedom. Sweet, sweet freedom from those accursed fools I once called friends. Freedom from the realm of the living, that cesspool of filth that I called home, freedom from the monstrosity that cursed my generation and infected everyone like a plague. Those annoying pictures and sound clips that had zero purpose behind them, the plague that dumbed down the rest of society to incessant levels of stupidity.. I was free from the memes that I was forced to reside with. And my suffering would finally be rewarded as I ascend to Heaven!\n\nExcitement filled my soul. As the light grew closer, all I could do was embrace it, welcome it as it brought me a warmth I had not felt in years, not since I first opened up a browser for the first time. Faster and faster I approach the light, the warmth spreading through my very being...\n\nOnly, the warmth kept growing hotter. Almost scaldingly so. And the light began to turn rather red as I fast approached it. Slowly, my excitement faded away, dropping down, ever faster down to that pit of despair within my soul. No, this couldn’t be right. This wasn’t right, I was just-\n\n“Number 15. Burger King foot lettuce.”\n\n====\n\n“So,” I mumble as the newest addition to Hell screamed within her newfound eternal home, “She hated memes.”\n\n“It appears that way boss,” Nadia, my ever-faithful assistant replies. “And you know how the Big G gets about that.” The blood-curdling shrieks grow ever louder, forcing Nadia to wince and cover her ears. I roll my eyes in irritation, knowing full well what she meant.\n\n“Yeah yeah. Unforgivable and all that.” I shudder in revulsion as the obnoxious soul within continues to suffer. “Well, it makes it easier to punish people I suppose. Just lock em in there for all eternity, never escaping the torrent of memes that await.”\n\n“Saves on personnel too,” Nadia adds before sipping her coffee. “By the way, the other two in that car aren’t coming to us. Apparently they want the two alive for some great plan or something.” Suspicious. Then again...\n\n“Does it involve memes?” I ask, already knowing the answer. Nadia pauses for a moment before giving me a guilty look.\n\n“They, refused to comment.”\n\n“Of course they did. Well, whatever. Less work for us then.” I shrug and shove my hands in my pockets. “Burgers? I’ll pay.” Nadia finishes her coffee and gives a nod.\n\n“Sounds good boss. Just no Burger King this time.” I wave my hand dismissively at her as I open up a portal out to the world above. We step through and the portal vanishes, the shrieks of the eternally damned left to rot in the memes of Hell.", "My life was okay, nothing to gloat about but I feel I have lived right. At this point my death was barely memorable. Who died if I am here? And what the hell is that noise? The light grew brighter, as I grew more baffled by what I had heard. \n\n\"What the hell could that h--\"\n\n\"I SAID A NUMBER 15 BURGER KING FOOT LETTUCE, C'MON\"\n\nI am now completely blinded by the light and the booming voice from afar begins to sound much closer. Of all the religions I read about through my life, all the meditations, attempted prayer, I was not prepared to hear that. Maybe it's a test, or a memory?\n\n\"THEY ARE WAITING FOR THEIR FOOD, I KNOW YOU HAVE HAD A ROUGH WEEK BUT GET IT TOGETHER!\"\n\n_ZSSHRCCKK_\n\n\"Shit\", I spaced out again. As my surroundings became more clear, I rubbed my eyes and shuffled quickly to get the next order out. Bun, patty, cheese, ketchup, mustard, lettuce, pickles and wrap it up!\n\n\"Order up!\"\n\n\"Took long enough Daniel. I know this isn't the most glamorous job but someone has to do it ya know.\"\n\nYeah, I suppose I did." ]	2
	[WP] The reason faerie folk and magick folk trade their magick for unborn children is to spare their souls from abuse and neglect by people who readily barter them in exchange for fortune, fame or power. They are cared for and loved and learn the magick of their benefactors to save other children.	[ "Moira danced about the grassy lea, a wreath of wildflowers tangled through her hair. A gnarled hawthorn, a fairy tree, stood all alone in the middle of the field, and sheeps idled around it, eyeing the deepening grey of sky with distrust.\n\nMoira didn’t mind the rain. On stormy days the Selkies and Kelpies would sometimes come out to the beach and tell stories to the children of the Seelie court in the caves by the sea. Moira had been a member of the Seelie court for five years now, she shuddered to remember the times before then.\n\nShe loved to come and play in this field. It was spring, and the lambs still had their tails and would play with her, dancing and prancing about on the hills. Animals could still see the Seelie when they were grown, unlike the folk, but they paid less attention. The young animals were full of curiosity still though.\n\n“Leka, go clean the stables you little brat!” The big\\-folk who lived in the house next to the sheep field was shouting at his daughter. She used to play with Moira, when she was much younger, but, over time, she had stopped talking to her. Shortly after, she had stopped seeing Moira at all. It was sad, but that was the way with the folk and the Seelie.\n\nLeka trudged through the mud, patchy shoes dragging themselves in a display of abject depression. The gait of someone who cleaned the stables yesterday, who would clean them today, and would clean them tomorrow. It was that kind of vision that took away their ability to see the fae, that merciless drudgery that took away all the colors.\n\nMoira paused to pet one of the lambs as it bit at her hem and tried to pull her over to its mother. It waggled its tail not unlike a puppy. Pushing it off, Moira skipped though the misting rain to the thatched home and peered into the window.\n\nThe house was dark and smokey. Bottles of whiskey littered the kitchen and a woman sat in front of a mirror. Leka used to tell Moira about the woman, she would complain to the man night after day after night about how her dreams were all taken away and how lame and crass her life was now and how it was all his fault. Then she would go to the mirror and stare into it, holding up the jewels of her youth.\n\nThe man would hear this and tell her how she had taken all his money and strength away and how lame and crass his life was now and it was all her fault. Then he would drink and talk to himself about all the triumphs of his youth and stare out the window at nothing.\n\nDay after day they would sit there, seeing only the past, seeing only a future that continued the same. Just like the look on Leka’s face as she went to clean the stables day after day after day until she couldn’t see anything else, until she couldn’t see Moira and the flower folk and the dancing rain\\-kin and the wind\\-whispering trees anymore. Until all she could see was horseshit in a barn.\n\nMoira remembered a time when she had forgotten how to see as well. A time when her fingers bled from spinning wool. Dawn to dusk, spinning, spinning, spinning as her mother drank in the corner, ignoring the world and cursing to a God that had grown tired of her indolence. Meanwhile, her father coughed a little bit more day by day as he lay consumptive on the bed. A time before she had been invited to join the Seelie fae court.\n\nMoira tensed her fist and walked through the window into the room. She stamped her foot with effort and shattered her glamour, appearing to the couple. The woman gasped and there was a soft tinkle as she dropped the necklace she’d been holding. The man put down his bottle with more control.\n\n“Good folk, the Seelie court thanks you. Your house has always been one of succor to our kind. You leave milk and bread out for the wee folk, you hang signs of fortune on your walls,” she motioned to a horseshoe, “you respect our ways with salt and water.” Moira bowed deeply. “In gratitude, I have come to offer you your dearest wish. Just speak it.”\n\nThe woman’s eyes widened, first with shock, then with delight. “I wish I were young again, glamorous, and unattached to this brute of a man.” She shot a scowl to her husband.\n\nThe husband sneered back at her. “Right, I would give anything to turn back the clock to before I met this poisonous harpy! Complain complain complain, nag nag nag, marrying you was the worst mistake of my life.”\n\nMoira nodded solemnly, then spread her hands, asking, “and what of the girl?”\n\nSilence followed.\n\n“I can take her, if you like, she will be treated well, you have my assurance.”\n\nSomething seemed to be working behind the mother’s eyes, some kind of silent battle. “She will be taken care of?”\n\n“Of course.”\n\n“Fine then.”\n\n“Fine.” Added the man, looking not at Moira, but glaring at his wife.\n\n“Fine.” Moira said, and snapped her fingers. The couple began to change, not within, but without. Perhaps their lives would be better with a new start, she doubted it though, their problems had nothing to do with each other or their youth. Their problems were problems of perception, as most people's were. She gently faded from their view.\n\nMoira walked out of the cabin with a slight smile. She danced over the mud and puddles like a child at hopscotch and knocked as she entered the barn.\n\n“Leka.” She said.\n\nThe girl whipped around, holding a shovel. Her eyes grew wide when she saw Moira standing there with a smirk and a hand on her hip. “Moira! I thought you were gone forever, I thought I was...” She paused for a moment. “I thought I was alone.”\n\n“Never again.” Moira smiled, holding out her hand." ]	1
	[WP] You didn't notice it for the longest time, but you slowly start to accidentally hurt yourself more due to your own clumsiness . You stub your toe more often, keep dropping things and bumping your head. Today, you finally figure out what the cause was.	[ "\"Excuse me,\" she whispered, and bent to pick up the pen. She shakily signed her name, then sat to wait beside me. I reached over and took her hand; she was nervous, I couldn't always tell when she was, but this time I knew. \n\nI couldn't go in with her because it wasn't allowed. I stayed in the waiting room and I stayed silent because I didn't want to talk to anyone. It was a dull kind of place, with sickly yellow walls and black and white dotted floors that looked like cookies and cream. A clock ticked. Outside the window I watched a sparrow which was the only living thing in a sea of gray concrete. Two women talked quietly among themselves, an sleeping old man leaned forward and looked like he would fall forward out of his chair. Tick, tick, tick. I waited for a long time.\n\nEventually she returned. A nurse walked with her, they paused at the desk and talked quietly and then the nurse left and she came where I was. She looked like a ghost. Her eyes were wide and terrified. She was pale and red like some kind of living Snow\\-White. \n\n\"What is it?\" I said. \n\nShe didn't say anything. Then she just shook her head. She didn't want to say anything, I guessed I wouldn't make her. Then we just stood there. Finally she grabbed my arm and I knew this meant she wanted to go. Recently she had to hold on to someone so she wouldn't fall when she walked. The change had been so sudden, but I understood what she needed. \n\nI took her out to the car, helped her in. She tried to buckle her seatbelt but she couldn't seem to fit the latch in. She kept missing. Finally I just did it for her and her eyes filled with tears.\n\n\"It's okay,\" I said. She didn't reply. \n\n\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\n\nI haven't got time right now, if anyone wants me to finish this story let me know! ", "\"Ouch!\" \n\nI'm on my way to the post office, and I've just dropped the package on my foot. I pick it up and gingerly rub my toes through my shoe before setting off down the street. \n\nIt's weird, I'm sore all over. In the shower this morning I counted seven bruises. It's not like me to be so clumsy. \n\nCould I be developing vertigo? But I don't feel dizzy.\n\nIt's a sunny day and the sidewalks are more crowded than usual. \n\n\"Excuse me,\" I mutter, stepping to the side to allow a woman walking her dog to get by. \n\nWhen the way is clear, instead of stepping forward like I should, I pivot 90 degrees and walk straight into the brick wall, bashing my face into it and knocking myself over. Blood streams from my nose.\n\nWhat is happening? \n\nI reach up - but my hand doesn't move. My feet don't move.\n\n\"Aaaugh!\" \n\nI whip my head back and forth, my entire body thrashing, and manage to turn around so I'm facing the street. \n\nMy body is not my own. I am possessed. \n\n\"Someone, help me! Get an exorcist!\"\n\nA couple people are staring. But no one says anything. \n\nMy twitching foot hits the package I dropped on the ground. The package!\n\nWith limbs that seem to be made of lead, I scrabble for the cardboard box. Wrap my fingers around it. I rip through the tape, through the label where I've written return to sender. \n\nThe box had arrived on my doorstep three days ago, and I hadn't realized it wasn't addressed to me until after I'd opened it and examined the contents.\n\nNow, I rip through the packaging. My hands are shaking, but I get them around the little oil lamp, pull the lid off. \n\nWith a rush, I feel the presence leave me. I cap the lamp. \n\nEvery muscle in my body relaxes. \n\nI am alone again." ]	2
	[WP] You accidentally break a cursed object, attaching yourself to a vengeful spirit that can't touch you, but instead kills everyone else around you in hopes of breaking your sanity. As a sociopath, you manage to turn this curse into a reliable superpower.	[ "“Walker, you sick fuck.” \n“Shut up Aaron, you did this yourself.” \n“Well sure, technically ‘I’ did it, but you’re the cost.” \nYep, just another ordinary day between me and the spirit inside my head. No, I’m not making this up. Also, I’m not Aaron, if anyone’s asking. It all started around last month, when I accidentally touched an exhibit scythe in an art museum. Turns out the thing was magic, and this weird spirit transferred itself into my body. It’s name was... I don’t remember, but its race all have ‘aa’ in their names, so I call it Aaron. It then put a curse on me, saying anyone within a three-meter radius from me dies. Unfortunately for it I hate people, so who the fuck cares if one or two bite the dust. \n“Stop having a flashback, prick.” \n“Shut up, Aaron. Well, there’s nobody here now, what’s next?” \n“Seriously, stop going to crowded places. You’re being wantednow, and in turn, I’m being wanted. I just wanna see you suffer, not the other way around.” \n“Well sucks to be you, dude. I’m hitting a diner next, can’t go killing people on an empty stomach.” \n“Seriously, stop.” \n“Shut up, Aaron.”\n", "Carl is my best friend, actually he’s my only friend, I was a bit antisocial before we met but by God that guy knew how to get a party started. When I first met Carl (he hates that name but his actual name is to hard to pronounce) we didn’t get off on the best of terms. See about 5 years ago I was grave robbing a sunken cathedral in the ancient waterways of Mexico City. (Not my fault they built a major city over a dead cultures capital) anyway I bumped into a small metallic statue, damn thing wasn’t even made of gold it was obsidian or something so it shattered immediately. And that’s when I say him (Or i think it’s a ‘him’? It doesn’t have breast or anything and crawls around walls at night, however it has a face with pretty feminine features...... i’v never seen it naked so I can’t tell). Anyway after freeing Carl from his tomb he seemed extremely pissed off and shouted at me in some dead language for hours, until he just started doing weird hand signals. I knew right away I was in no danger, Mainly Because it’s voice was just so high pitched it sounded hilarious, I bursted out laughing more than once. After we all had a good laugh (mostly just me bullying my new spirit bitch) I decided to go back up to the city. And to my surprise the spirit followed. I tried to introduce him to some Mexicans I hired to help me dig (what it’s not racist I was literally in Mexico) and they insisted they didn’t see anything. I mean my Spanish is shit but I kept saying “¿Tú Ves?” And they just didn’t say “Sí” so I assumed it was only me. Later we all got lunch at a Thai restaurant (Mexico city is a large place they have more than Mexican food down there). While attempting to talk to my employees their eyes all lit up red and they just started fighting each other, I mean they were going all out, one guy pulled a knife and another hit someone across the head with a plate, it was a made house. Anyway within 15 min all three were dead from the injuries they with-stained. (Lucky for me I didn’t have to pay them,). This was the beginning of a long relationship between me and Carl, sense the initial meet up we traveled south all the way through Central America to Panama and then down in Colombia, while indirectly getting anyone I had more than a 10 min conversation with killed. (The deity didn’t really understand that I don’t care if random people I just met died, like bro c’mon I doubt I’ll ever see that Honduran customs officer again, did you really need to make him eat his stapler?) but I digress (never used that word before, have no idea what it means but it sounded natural). Me and Carl also learned quite a bit about each other, first he’s not Aztec he’s Mayan and he has actually learned enough English to communicate. We came to a agreement that killing random people is for Spanish Emos (guy never shuts up about how evil Spain is, which confuses me because I thought the Mayan empire fell long before Spain showed up) and shouldn’t be done by anyone. Also we’re super chill now, we live at a small cabin in the southern jungles bordering Brazil, and we more or less just fish to get by. The towns not super isolated, so I can by most of what I need in the way of basic supplies. I don’t really need money, because whenever I go shopping Carl just mind fucks the check out lady (Rural Colombia is a few years behind, they don’t have self-check outs you Norwegian Scum..... I know you as a reader probably aren’t Norwegian but I just always wanted to say “Norwegian Scum”, anyway back to me story, me and Carl help each other, he gets me free stuff and I continue to turn on Netflix. (He ducking loves it, that’s how he learned English, and after watching all seasons of parks and Rec he decided he wants to move to America and become president (his words not mine, I’ll perfectly fine fucking hookers and snorting coke in Colombia..... plus I’m technically a “outlaw” in the US. Smuggle a few weapons into New Brunswick from New York and suddenly your a fucking war profiteer (hey I didn’t know they’d funnel their way into the hands of Québécoi Sepertists) anyway I’m set to leave from Cali (the one in Colombia) and I change flights in Managua to finally get to LAX and become a politician. I mean what’s the worst that could? I have a ancient dead Mayan Warrior on my side that is hell bent on making America great again with me as his puppet because I’m to lazy to actually start a argument with him. Carry me to the top Carl, but I swear to Carls Lizard God of he makes the Ambassador to Spain declare war I’m going to be mildly upset. Carl 2020 ", "Hi there police officer! It’s Jonas.\n\nIf you’re reading this, in front of you are the bodies of one Melissa Carlson, one Jamie King, as well as 15 others I can’t be bothered to ID. Yes. I killed them all. Well, more specifically, my ancient spirit did. At this point, I have listed some handy FAQ’s for you in this letter.\n\n\n\nQ: What the –expletive– happened?\n\nA: Basically, the spirit (never bothered to learn its name(it doesn't even say anything)) kills everyone around me to somehow break my sanity. It achieves this by simply sucking out all the organs from the target, leaving everything else intact. This leaves them as a fleshy mess of bone and muscle. Multiply that by 17 and you get a gruesome depiction of death, and I get a neat photo.\n\nQ: What spirit?\n\nA: The one I mentioned earlier. I’m pretty sure it’s from Egypt, considering I found it in the Pyramids during a mind-numbingly long university trip. Thankfully when it latched onto me it killed everyone there, ending the tour a tad early. The spirit looks sorta like black smoke, except more fluid-like. I never was good at describing things.\n\nQ: Why are you doing this?\n\nA: I don’t know. Everything else is boring. My existence was boring until I knocked over that statue. Then that smoky beast slithered out and connected with me, finally giving my life some meaning. Now killing people makes living fun again!\n\nQ: Who are you?\n\nA: My name is Jonas Stansfield, 19-year-old former uni student, sociopath, and murderer. I live at 2963 Hillcrest Lane, Irvine, California. I’m usually home after 3, except on Sundays. On Sundays I go out to kill, so I would most likely be back at around 9.\n\nQ: Why are you telling me this?\n\nA: Because if I tell you, then I’ll have another target. You might want to start running now. Or you can turn around, so you can see the spirit in actuality rather than basing your depiction on my terrible description.\n\n\n\nSigned,\n\nthe person (and spirit) behind you.\n=)\n\n------------------\nHey! First story!\n" ]	3
	[WP] They arrived, they are friendly, talks are going well. You were just assigned Lead Investigater of the very first Alien-Human murder.	[ "When the Isle of Earth formally known as Haida Gwaii opened up to alien life there were all sorts of procedures and processes in place, especially if an Alien or Human kill each other. Yet, it’s all theory until something happens and no one planned that an Alien would destroy an entire city. Prince Rupert had 14,000 residents according to the last Canadian census, now it has a population of 30. The world is demanding an explanation but the UN and diplomats of the Galactic Alliance Council haven’t commented on the situation other than this statement:\n\n“The Isle of Earth, UN, and the Galactic Alliance Council is devastated to hear of the tragedy in Prince George. The Geckomark in question has been found and is being detained at Isle of Earth awaiting deportation back to his home world.” \n\nOf course there was an uproar. People all over the world protested, the media united to condemn the UN and the thirty alien representatives that make up the Galactic Alliance Council. The situation was intense, and in order to help smooth things over the management of Isle of Earth allowed a representative from the RCMP to conduct Canada’s investigation. The unlucky fellow is twenty year veteran Joseph St. Pierre from Montreal, Quebec. \n\nJoseph was selected because of his investigation work with serial killers in Canada. His last case involved feet washing up to shore from Victoria to Seattle, he was well liked in the media’s eye due to his frankness of his investigations. His looks oozes confidence and experience with a greying brown beard, short buzzed cut hair, and a hard face of a war veteran. Standing at 6’1 and weighting at a fit 260, he looked like a perfect candidate from both the Government and Isle of Earth’s side to relay the hard truth to the population of earth. \n\nArriving by jet from Vancouver, Joseph was given the tour of Isle of Earth via a short documentary. Isle of Earth Corporation was founded after the visit of the Galactic Alliance Council who wanted to create a hub on earth for trade and pleasure. In return the Galactic Alliance Council would give Earth advanced technology to use as they see fit. They settled for an area away from the human population, forcing residents of Haida Gwaii to move. The UN and the Galactic Alliance Council then worked out terms for landing, visiting, and schedule of alien ships. It opened a week ago. \n\nThe video Joseph watched was light on details and particulars, and essentially is information people would’ve gathered by going to the website. While the Island only allows humans that work for the Isle of Earth Corporation there were plans to allow everyday people to visit the Island as a vacation to witness and experience alien culture, but it wasn’t rolled out. \n\nJoseph looked out the window of the airplane as it landed, the entire island transformed from a beautiful nature park to an industrial complex with landing pads and runaways all over it. The architecture in the middle of the island resembles a giant Airport with several skyscraper structures around it. Joseph hasn’t seen anything like this, it looked like downtown Hong Kong with a giant airport in the middle and being the size of Las Vegas strip. \n\nThe stewardess escorted Joseph out of the plane, there he was greeted by his contact Mr. Shin, an Asian businessman and spokesman for the Isle of Earth Corporation. Before Joseph shook Mr. Shin’s hand, he noticed the air smelled funny, like toxic waste and human feces. \n\n“What’s that smell?” The French Canadian asked Shin. \n\n“It’s fuel. Come inside, it smells better.” Shin replied, escorting Joseph away from the runway and into the airport looking building. Walking in was like walking into the scene of Men In Black, the Will Smith movie from years ago. Aliens all different shapes, sizes, and colours walking around freely with Humans dressed in tuxedo and dresses escorting them around, laughing, and socializing with them. \n\n“This is our welcoming center Mr. Pierre, this is where the aliens go once they land to be processed, debriefed and sent to their resort.” Mr. Shin explained, as they into the office area of the airport. Mr. Shin’s office wasn’t large, it was cubicle sized with a desktop on his desk. The Asian man sat down, offering a seat to Joseph across from him. \n\n“Now I understand you’re here to report your findings to the Canadian Government, and here at Isle of Earth we want nothing more but the truth. However, the truth is more complicated than you think. Our security team has done the research, documentation, and investigation for you. We hope this is enough for you to take back to your government.” Mr. Shin handed Joseph a binder filled with paper work, it would take Joseph a few hours to go through and more to digest it all. \n\n“I’m sorry, but I was here to conduct my own investigation to speak to alien representatives, interview the suspect, a—“ \n\n“This is why, you can’t speak to them. Please don’t call them Aliens, they’re visitors and guests to our planet. Aliens are what you call people you don’t want.” Mr. Shin politely explained, turning to work on his desktop. \n\n“So what you want me to read this and take it to my superiors? I was asked be-“ \n\n“You were asked because you’re well respected, but what you’re going to find here is numerous red tape, uncooperation, and frankly a waste of mine and yours time. You really think the death of 14 thousand people is going to stop my employers and the Galactic Alliance Council from doing what they want here? The answer is no, their technology is too far advanced. We’ve already found a solution to famine and have been rolling out crop technology in Africa to help end hunger there. We’ve reviewed and documented what happened. Go to your hotel room and read the document.”\n\nThe meeting was cut short and Joseph was brought to a hotel. It wasn’t as fancy as the other hotels around the spaceport, but Joseph did notice all the humans are staying together. Joseph would try and start conversation with random workers, but they were aggressive and didn’t want to speak to Joseph. So he returned to his standard hotel room with a bottle of whiskey from the bar and began to read the report. \n\n-------\nDate: September 15th, 2023. \nFrom the Desk of Wyein Lu, Head of Security\n\nOn August 14th, 2023 a small boat was seen by security cameras near the south part of landing pad #42. There two individuals dressed as Isle of Earth greeters greeted a landing spaceship and escorted the Geckomark to their boat. There it’s assumed the two individuals escorted the alien to Prince Rupert, in which a viral infection from the Geckomark was transmitted and rapidly spread across the civilians of the town. It wasn’t until Isle of Earth security arrived on scene that the situation could be contained. \n\nThe Isle of Earth recognizes errors in their greeting and security plans when it came to that particular visitor’s arrival. The Geckomark wasn’t properly disinfected for Earth Visitation which caused the infection to spread so easily among the normal population. \n\nWe’ve deported the Geckomark back to his home world, and would like to use section 32-c of the Isle of Earth Agreement which states that any action done by outside parties against Alien Visitors may not be blamed on the Isle of Earth Corporation or the Galactic Alliance Council. \n\nBecause of the heavy loss in Prince Rupert, the Galactic Alliance Council and the Isle of Earth do not wish to seek damages against the UN and the Government of Canada for the breach of civilians in corporate land. \n\nThank you\n\n-----------\n\nThe note suggested two people who wanted to abduct an alien brought them back to Prince Rupert. Something doesn’t sit well with Joseph Pierre, maybe it was the bottle of whiskey he’s been sipping while going through the report, photos, and security feed in question or maybe it was the bullshit case he was assigned to automatically fail. Regardless he grumbled before going to bed.\n\nThe next meeting with Mr. Shin was a lot formal. This time Mr. Shin had a lawyer with him, one of those high priced ones with designer suits and several other lawyers behind him taking notes. Joseph was sitting across from Mr. Shin. \n\n“Well, how was your night? Are you ready to go back home and report what you’ve found?”\n\n“I had a few more questions re—“\n\n“Great, thank you for coming.” Mr Shin said, standing up. His lawyers exited with him. As soon as they left a group of security guards flooded to room and gently escorted him to a plane where he was to be flown back to Canada. \n\nHe handed the report to his superiors along with the story of hospitality the Isle of Earth gave him and how uncooperative they were to support an RCMP investigation, but as he expected they didn’t care. Sending him, handing a report, and everything else was just a formality. The government had already communicated the fault of two men who also reportedly died during the incident in Prince Rupert. \n\nThat’s when Joseph realized that this was a joke, and whatever really happened he would never know. Mr. Shin was right, an alien can end up in the mainland and murder thousands of people, and yet it wouldn’t stop the UN from closing the Port not because of the abundance of alien technology or profit, but because this submissive action letting them have a port on Earth in which the UN is responsible for anything that happens to humans because of Alien threat is to stop a war. If the UN denied the request of the Galactic Alien Council to open a port, we could be in a war for a planet against an alien race that managed to wipe out 14,000 people overnight. \n\nThe first alien and human murder investigation wasn’t a proper investigation, but a cover up story.\n" ]	1
	[WP] You wake up one morning to find your wish has come true. You are in a crib, with the body of an infant, but you’ve retained all your memories and knowledge from your previous life. You are excited to begin life anew with this advantage, only to find out you aren’t the one controlling the body.	[ "There is no hell but this. A body without a soul or a soul without a body. Trust me.\n \n24 years I've paced round this cell, ran my hands over every brick, pushed my hot cheek into the cool tile floor 10 thousand times. Solitary confinement is a bitch but the view can at least be interesting.\n \nMy needs are simple it's true. No guards to keep me in check, no nurse to comfort me, no cook to feed me. I am in many ways the perfect prisoner within the perfect prison. I'll describe it for you now.\n\nAnna Zekchelovek is 24 years old. She was born in the city of Staraya Russa to Peter and Elena and has lived here all her life. She has short blonde hair, powerful brown eyes that change to green in the bright light, and when she smiles, shows a dimple in her left cheek. \n \nShe works in the ticket office at the train station. Every morning she rises at 5, has a simple breakfast and walks briskly the 15 minutes to her office. She is a diligent worker, serving her customers with pride, and without realising it, she has held me captive these last 24 years, 2000 miles from where I was born.\n\nI have watched Anna through her own eyes every step of the way. A silent observer. Powerless but thinking. Her first steps, her first words, her school years, dance lessons, boyfriends (ugh), cooking, eating, breathing, living. \n\nHow I long for a body. I'd fall into it like a deep, warm bath.\n\nI comforted her when she fell, soothed her when she felt sad, though of course she never heard or felt a thing. \n\nI screamed and I shouted at her, told her to read faster, or change the channel when I grew tired and when I get really mad plead with her to walk in front of a train and end my suffering. I'm not proud of it but I'm human.\n \n Oh, and did I mention I am in love with her? \n \nThis is really messed up I know.\n \nHow I got here is a puzzle without an answer. Thrown out of one life into the next, perhaps we melded in the celestial heat. Two sailors on the amniotic sea. Perhaps this is normal\n Can I really be unique? \n \nMaybe this is the cruel reality of life. Souls just float around when the body expires until they latch on, limpet like, to whatever happens to pass. I used to think everything could be explained, would have never used the world soul, but you sure get a lot of time to think when you don't sleep and soul is the only word I can find.\n \nAt night, I listen to the universe. It sounds like the gentle hum of a refridgerator. How long ill be with Anna I can't know - the ultimate in unrequited love - but I struggle on and hope for a better future.\n \n\n\n \n \n", "I fell asleep last night fairly normally. In my bed around 1:30am, my phone was playing a Brockhampton album with the volume on only two ticks. So when I woke up I didn’t necessarily expect to hear my music. However, this morning was a little more different than usual. Not only was my music off. I wasn’t even in my own bed. I wasn’t in my normal pajamas. I wasn’t in my normal body. \n\nI tried to lift my head but I don’t seem strong enough. My arms are short and fat, and why are there gloves on my hand? It’s the middle of august. I know I have to work soon, I was recently prompted to be the manager at my old job. I try to wake myself up as if this is some type of dream but I can’t, I’m stuck in this new body, this new life.\n\nAfter laying still for nearly two hours my head raises and my arms support me as I start to sit up. “What the hell is happening” I wonder to myself. My arms begin to warp around the bars surrounding the cradle I had been laid in. My head swivels and I see two people are hovering above me. A man, 6 feet 2 inches, a nice new faded haircut. His facial hair well groomed, short but full. Thick black frames on his glasses, bifocals. A lady next to him, shorter than him, probably only 5 foot 5 inches. Long blonde hair flowing from the fan they have on in the room. This must be his wife, and me… their child.\n\n“Good morning sunshine” I hear come from the women’s voice. I try to responded but can’t form the words. I try to nod but my head doesn’t move. I’m stuck and the only way I can move is with their help. As much as I struggle I can’t seem to do anything, not even cry. \n\nAll hope drowns out of my body. How am I supposed to tell them I can understand them. I’m incapable of doing anything but think. Think. Think. I thought this was my dream come true. It is a dream come true, but nightmares are also dreams and that’s what this is has become.\n\nThe next days are all spent the same. I lay in my bed until the man comes and picks me up. He brings me to the living room where he watches sports highlights and I lay motionless on the ground. Eventually, he picks me back up and feeds me a bottle. When I’ve drank it all, back on the floor I go.\n\nWhat a life.\n\nThis is the same routine for weeks. The man and women have begun to try and teach me how to walk. It seems like they want to give me control of my own body, how nice of them. \n", "Infancy, what an interesting concept. \n\nHere I was, at the very beginning of human growth. From this point forward, I should be like a sponge, absorbing every little stimulus the world gives me. In time, I would be able to walk, talk, form coherent thoughts, and potentially become successful in life. Here I was, at the beginning; but only my body was an infant. \n\nDespite the tiny, unassuming size of my doughy body, my mind was that of a full\\-grown man. Inside of this mind came the memories and experiences of a past life, a life that I remember incredibly well. In my previous life, I had been a stock broker on Wall Street. But I wasn't just ANY stock broker. I was the CEO of the largest hedge fund in New York City, Camsworth LLC. Net worth of $75 billion, at least 5 houses on every continent, need I continue? I was Richard Camsworth, one of the richest men to ever live. \n\nTherein lies the mystery... I WAS Richard Camsworth, and in some ways, I still am Richard Camsworth. But when I look down at my tiny fingers and feel the weight of a full diaper under my ass, I know that in many ways I am not the man I once was. \n\nDespite all the memories of my past life, I remember very little about its final moments. I vaguely remember waking up for a routine day of work in my Manhattan penthouse. I made myself an avocado wrap, and strolled into my walk\\-in\\-closet to get dressed. I have the faintest memory of the smell of smoke, and after that... nothing. I can only assume that I died, but the details of that circumstance are still lost to me. \n\nAll I know is that for now, Richard Camsworth was inside the body of an infant. And to be honest, I was kind of pumped. \n\nI thought about all of the possibilities that my situation could bring. I could literally start speaking out loud to my parents at this very moment, quite a startling occurrence at the tender age of four days. But talking was elementary, I was thinking big picture. \n\nI could do ANYTHING I wanted to. I could be the smartest kid in my class by far. I could graduate high school by 6 years old. I could get accepted to the finest colleges in the world by 7. I could marry the girl of my dreams by 10, something that took me until the age of 41 in my previous life. I could be world\\-famous... I could see the headlines now... \"Child Protege\" writes the New York Times. \"Baby Einstein\" writes the Washington Post. \"What Did They Put In His Milk?!\" writes the Seattle Inquirer. This was going to be pretty sweet, I thought to myself as my mother entered the room to feed me. \n\n\"Heyyyy there little Davie! You know what time it is? That's right, time for your formula!!\" \n\nMy mother was Susan Goldman, married to Fred Goldman. They were your stereotypical suburban family. A Toyota Highlander in the garage, two cats named Finkleberg and Cheddar, a white picket fence. And now, to complete the picture of middle\\-class America... a brand\\-spanking new baby boy. \n\nI was wondering when I should break it to them, the fact that their son already possesses the knowledge to be more successful than they would ever be. \n\n\"Eh, it can wait,\" I thought to myself as my mother put the bottle to my lips. \n\nFor the previous 10 years of my past life, all I knew was work. I worked 14 hours a day to run my company, and I ran a pretty damn good company at that. But that kind of work for that amount of time took its toll. My hair had been receding rather rapidly, I lost my sex drive in my early 30's, and money didn't really mean anything to me anymore. To be honest, I was looking forward to my new life. Daily walks in the stroller, having my every need catered to within seconds. Not to mention the HOURS AND HOURS AND HOURS OF SLEEP I WOULD BE GETTING. I could count on three fingers the hours of sleep I would get every night in my past life. \n\n\"Yeah, I could get used to this baby stuff,\" I thought as I watched my mother leave the room. \n\nMy parents had just bought me a brand new set of toys. In particular, the most entertaining was a red rattler that could keep my attention for hours. Even with my adult mind, I found great satisfaction from the simplicity of the toy. \n\n“Nothing on this guy’s calendar but a date with a red rattler”, I thought as I made an effort to reach for my toy. \n\nFor some odd reason, the signal that my brain sent to my hand didn't register. My attempt to pick up my toy was futile. \"Strange,\" I thought to myself. My gaze shifted from the door to the rotating stars and moons above my crib. \"I should have had one of these in New York,\" I thought as I became transfixed by the assembly of painted wood. Again, I made an effort to reach for my toy. What I noticed next was rather startling. Not only could I not reach for my toy, but my eyes didn't even move towards the toy sitting next to me in my crib. \n\n\"What is going on?!\" I thought frantically. \"Am I paralyzed!?!\" As if in response to this thought, my feet clapped together four times, and a little giggle came bursting from my lips.\n\n\"Alright, I know for a FACT I didn't make mean to do that.\" Then a startling realization came to me. From the moment that I had inherited this body 4 days ago, I don't recollect making any physical action at all. I remember WATCHING my parents play with me, WATCHING them spoon feed me, but I don't remember consciously DOING any of these things. It was as if I was watching a movie about life from a baby's point of view, but I had no impact on the outcome of the film. \n\nI wasn’t in control of my body.\n\nAs the weight of my new reality came crashing down on me, all of my hopes of world domination started to fade. I could have the most ingenious thoughts in the history of the world, but if my mouth didn't want to vocalize those thoughts, then they were pointless!\n\n\"I'll never go on Oprah now!\" I screamed in my mind. As these thoughts bounced around in my head, I heard a faint rumbling coming from somewhere in the room.\n\n“Will I ever be able to control my actions? Will I ever take advantage of this opportunity??” The rumbling became louder. “I JUST WANT TO PLAY WITH MY FUCKING RATTLE,” my mind screamed as the rumbling stopped. The rumbling then turned into an avalanche; a wet, sloppy avalanche. The sound lasted for what seemed like an eternity before it stopped, and immediately my body started to cry.\n\nWithin seconds my mother came rushing in. \"Awww, did wittle Davie make a poopie\\-woopie??\" Indeed, this had been the case. As my mother proceeded to change my diaper, I thought about the prospect of listening to myself involuntarily shitting myself for the next year. \n\n\"Wittle Davie is a wittle fuckin disappointed,\" I thought as the sounds of my cries echoed throughout the mid\\-afternoon.", " \"That free corner is showing blitz, make sure you kick the ball out to your check down as a first read\" \n\nWait what? Johnny looked over the defense again and saw what the voice was saying. Wait, had that voice always been there? \n\n\"Yes I've been here since you were a baby, hurry up there's only three seconds on the playclock\" \n\nJohnny called for the snap, the center placed the ball in his hands, made a quick three step drop and just as the blitzing corner was about to sack him, threw the ball to his tailback in a swing route. He still took a good hit and went down. But a few seconds later the home crowd exploded in \"TOUCHDOWN!\". How had he never heard the voice before? \n\n\"You've done as I've said before, your just old enough now to recognize I'm a different person, we'll talk more after the game, we'll never make varsity if you're distracted.\" \n\nWith some help from the voice, Johnny led the JV team to an easy victory. This guy in his head must have been a coach or something. \n\n\"Nope, I'm just a bit older than fourteen, Defenses can't be too complicated at this level, easy to diagnose for any real fan.\" \n\nJohnny shook his head. He was a real fan of football, he and his dad had watched games together for as long as Johnny could remember. He and his bad both bled Green and White. \n\n\"I know, I was there, you want to be the next Sam Darnold, but I remember watching Peyton Manning and Drew Brees. I'm sorry you've had to grow up a Jets fan.\" \n\nWhat was wrong with being a Jets fan? Who was this voice's team. Why did he have a voice in his head, or did he get a concussion in the game? Was he crazy? \n\n\"Whoah, slow down. I was a Bucs fan growing up, yeah I know they're terrible. You aren't crazy, like I said I've been with you since birth. You're just beginning to develope inductive reasoning, so you've realized I'm seperate from you.\" \n\nSo Johnny had a Bucs fan in his head. No wonder he knew defenses so well. Johnny wondered if everyone had someone else in their head. \n\n\"I didn't, this is a first for me to.\" \n\nHow strange, at least he got someone who loved football as much as him. ", "It’s easy to underestimate how helpless babies are.\n\nI know it sound strange, since they’ve about as self sufficient as a houseplant and at least twice as likely to injure themselves, but until you’ve been one with the cognitive faculties of an adult, you absolutely cannot understand what it’s like to not be able to lift your head, to not be able to move your limbs with any precision, to only be able to communicate in coos and piercing wails. It’s absolutely horrifying.\n\nIt also meant it was easy for me to overlook the other problem. Any bit of oddity I put down to having the intellect of an adult reborn into the body and nervous system of a child. I can’t raise my hand? Probably my arm not responding. I’m crying instead of laughing? Must be a hormonal imbalance. The ritual that allowed me to be reborn directly was a complex one, a dangerous one. Even now I could barely remember the details, although I did remember where I had buried to book, for when it was time to uncover it in fourteen years or so. The ritual only promised Rebirth with all knowledge and memories intact, nothing more.\n\nI thought, at the time, it was worth it. At the age of 80 the only thing left to me was watching my body slowly decay in a nursing home abandoned by children who had never appreciated me, never understood that everything I did I had done for them. Even the beginnings of my delvings into the mystic arts. I was not of any Blood, I had no great power, but I was studious and could learn rituals.\n\nSo I decided to do one selfishly, and find myself reincarnated upon this mortal world as a brand new infant, needing help with even the basest of tasks but all the while able to scheme and dream. This time, I was of the Blood. I had real Power. I would take us out of the Shadows and into the modern world, if I had to drag humanity kicking and screaming.\n\nAt least I was getting practice at the last two.\n\nBut because of the relative helplessness of infants, it wasn’t until I was older, a little over a year, that I started realizing something was wrong. My hands would do things of their own accord. My first word was mama, instead of dada like I wanted it to be. I wondered if perhaps, I had pushed some soul out of this body only for it to find its way back home, a fear that stuck with me until I woke up one morning a year later to find myself crawling along the wall at speeds I couldn’t manage.\n\nThe ritual I had used, one from the dread Necronomicon, had promised Rebirth. I realized, too late, that it didn’t promise Rebirth for only the caster.\n\nThe thing sharing this body with me, the thing that usually controls me, is named Yhog\\-hest. It is biding its time, pretending to be human the same way I was going to pretend to be normal, but it is feeding on my strength. I am six, and fear I will not make it to ten.\n\nThat is why you’re getting this letter, awkwardly scribbled in crayon. I have an hour, every day, when Yhog\\-hest must sleep, during the sun’s zenith. You were the only one to care for me, Severine. The only of my grandchildren who visited. And the only one who is of the Blood, on your mother’s side.\n\nFind me before Yhog\\-hest reaches its true power. Find me and stop me, or I fear the world may burn from my hubris.\n\nLove,\n\nGrandpa.\n\nThe bottom of the page is full of crude crayon drawings of dinosaurs eating astronauts while fighting the Ninja Turtles and the Avengers.\n\n\\-\\-\\-\n\nMore at r/Hydrael_Writes", "My eyes open and I am greeted by a strange sight. I'm in some sort of half-cage. There are bars all along the sides, but the top is open. I'm laying on something soft; definitely not the ground or floor. What's the thing spinning near the ceiling? It almost looks like a...mobile? \n\nThe realization hits me. \n\nThis is no cage, this is a crib! I see a pattern of cartoon animals all around the sides of it. The adjacent wall is covered in bright hues of blue and white. I can't quite move my head, but I'm pretty sure I'm wearing a onesie. \n\nMy wish came true. I never believed in the supernatural; but as a man laying on the cement, dying in pain, I prayed to every God I could think of. It was as if every nerve in my body was screaming at once. I was laying in an ever-growing pool of my own blood while my car was twisted around me; the metal strained and pulled into a caricature of what it once was. \n\nWhat was almost worse than that was the fact that I knew I was dying. I knew that I would not survive and that those were the last moments I would ever know. I prayed for a second chance. I prayed to be delivered and given a fresh start. And my prayers were answered.\n\nIs this what reincarnation is? I didn't see any white light or angelic being. There was no 'meetup' with deceased relatives or any God. One moment, I was in complete agony. Then, I find myself laying in a crib; cozy as hell and completely pain-free.\n\nI am a little baffled though that I remember my life, well past life I suppose, completely. I do a quick mental trip of my life and find nothing amiss. Interesting. Does this mean what I think it does? A true fresh start with all the knowledge and wisdom I gained in my previous 34 years of life at hand? \n\nA twinge of sadness washes over me as I wonder about my family. I'll never see them again. Even if I could, they wouldn't know it was me. They would see a stranger. I suppose there are pros and cons to everything. Perhaps I can use my wisdom to build money early in my new life and give them some anonymous donations. Not mention give myself a cushy life. \n\nMy head turns as I hear someone walking outside the room. That's weird, it almost felt like my head moved by itself. \n\nMy feet start to kick as I hear a female voice call out.\n\n\"Is someone wakey in there?\"\n\nThe kicking intensifies and I smile. But I didn't mean to smile nor to kick furiously. It's almost like I'm an observer in this body. The source of the voice comes into the room and I turn my head to look her; or should I say, my head turned itself to look at her. \n\nBefore me stands a beautiful woman. Medium height, with lovely olive skin, hair dark and long, and a face that could probably stand among top-tier models. My mother. \n\nI start to panic as the realization that I do not have control of this body sets. I try so hard to move. Anything, a finger, a toe, hell I can't even blink! My mother picks me up and coddles me. I can feel her warmth and soft touch on my body as though it were my own. But I can't react to it. My coos and flopping aren't my own actions; I am merely an observer. \n\nThe baby starts crying. I refuse to say that it was me. I am not crying. My body is crying, but at this point, I am not my body. I think. \n\nI want this crying to stop. \n\nStop crying. \n\nI think to myself (whatever the hell that is anymore), \"Little baby, your mom is holding you nice and tight, you're warm and cozy, and I'm pretty sure we haven't shit ourselves yet. There's no reason to cry. Just stop.\"\n\nI can't quite explain it, but after I said that, I could feel the baby acknowledge me. Not in a verbal sense or even a mental sense, but a just a pure sense of knowing. \n\nThe baby stopped crying. A sense of relief washed over me, but it was followed by a horrible truth. At that point, I knew exactly what was going on. \n\nI'm not reincarnated. This is not my life to live.\n\nI am merely an observer to this new life. An unwilling passenger. A passenger who can sometimes scream loud enough for the conductor to hear.\n\nI am a conscience. \n" ]	6
	[WP] You are unhappily married. You come into a lot of money, split it with your spouse and go your own ways. The first thing you do is book a dream vacation. When you arrive you see your spouse booked the same vacation.	[ "Louise clutched her purse to her check, over\\-sized hat flopping atop her head from the wind, her embroidered coverup catching the swarms of breezes. The sand sunk into her sandals and a towel was rolled over beneath her armpit. Sure, the breeze would have been better less, but standing on the clear sandy beach towards the turquoise ocean free from tourists was wonderful. She wasn't all alone \\- there were a few heads bobbing in the waves and some towels were lazing under the hot sun. She let her towel fall to the floor and plopped onto the ground, purse tumbling beside her. She slipped her sandals off and wiggled her toes in the sand, flat on the sand, smiling with her eyes closed.\n\n\"...Louise?\"\n\nHis voice killed her smile and the coolness from his shadow blocked the heat over her legs and chest. Louise opened her eyes, hoping she was going insane from his presence.\n\nBut there he was. Lucas. The man she thought she loved. The man who left her lonely most nights, alone, waiting for him to come home. \n\n\"A\\-are you following me?\" Louise's voice was high pitched. When she swallowed, she could taste fear. He was never a stalker or a creep as far as she remembered.\n\n\"No, I\\-I booked a dream holiday, and...\" his voice died. He sat down beside her. Louise sat up, not too sure what she was feeling.\n\n\"I, um, there are things I didn't say that I kinda wish I said that I want to say.\" He looked at her.\n\n\"Look,\" Louise stood up. \"You had your chance. Did you really come here just to, what, mumble?\" she scoffed at him, walking away with her towel and her hat.\n\nA few steps away, he called her name. \n\n\"What do you want from me?\" she yelled back, facing him only to get given her purse.\n\n\"You kinda forgot your purse,\" he sighed. She snatched it and walked away, tears in her eyes.\n\n\"And I, ah,\" he continued, his voice loud. \"I didn't follow you here alright? I always wanted to go, with you. But, things weren't good. And that was my fault.\"\n\nLouise faced him one last time. \"You're never going to be a part of my life again. What you want, what you wanted to say\\-\\- none of it's my business. You stay here on your dream fucking holiday. I'm leaving. You can have the whole island to yourself, just you and your fucking thoughts.\"\n\nWhen she walked away this time, she half wanted him to call her name. But, like the coward he always was, he never said her name.", "You are pissed. She tries to say hi but you ignore her. This in turn pisses her off. You stay the night in the second most luxurious room because your ex got the most luxurious one. \n\nThe next morning you decide to check out and go somewhere else. You arrive at your second destination and everything seems perfect until you see your ex drinking a mai tai by the pool. She sees you and throws the drink your way.\n\nYou decide to leave right away. You think of a place that you believe you would enjoy for yourself. You think of two places. You look on your phone and decide on the place that has an earlier flight.\n\nTwo weeks later you come back home. And who do you run into at the airport getting off her flight? Your ex. You found out she went to the other place you thought about going to. And the reason she went there was the flight she chose left earlier than her other option... the place you went to.\n\nYou sit at the bar to have a drink and learned that you two basically did all the same things just in different locations. Then you both realize you have far more in common than you think. " ]	2
	[WP] It's 7:01 am- The sun was supposed to rise a minute ago. 7:46 am-Scientists are reporting that the sun has vanished. 8:00 am- You have just woken up.	[ "\"Oh shit oh shit oh shit!\" I hollered, tossing the covers off of me. Somehow I had overslept. Where was I last night?? My head pounded and throbbed. Oh that's right. I went drinking with that son-of-a.. My thoughts were interrupted by a thunderous voice.. \n\n\"Sól!\" Odin boomed. \"Why the hell is the Earth in darkness??\" I winced. \n\n\"Sorry, Allfather.. I, overslept?\" I shrugged sheepishly, tossing on a fresh fur. \"I have to go now, though, before anyone notices!\" Odin's face darkened as he gestured to the small screen which displayed several news stories. Damn.. apparently they've already noticed.. \n\n\"When we struck this deal with the other pantheons to trade off duties, we gave our word as gods that we would not shirk out duties!\" He growled. \"And now, you have made us all look bad! Get out there and move the sun, for my sake!\" He turned and strode out, each footstep shaking the ground. \n\nI darted out to the stables and grabbed the sun steeds, already hitched to the golden chariot. I'll have to thank Máni later, I noted, before hastily whipping the reins, sending horses & chariot together soaring into the heavens. \n\nI found Helios sitting, waiting just on the cusp of my territory. His tousled hair framed his face, which was usually a mask of disinterest. Today, however, his chiseled features bore obvious disdain and annoyance. \n\n\"I was supposed to be off with Selene and Eos ages ago!\" He whined in a silky voice. \"What took you so long??\" \n\n\"Your bastard brother got me drunk last night!\" I spat. \"And I overslept. Now let's get this switched over so you can be on your merry way.\" I hoisted the sun in all it's glory into my chariot. Helios gave a vague wave, and then his chariot took off, speeding off to wherever he and his siblings went for fun. I shrugged, and once again whipped my steeds into action. As we pulled forward, I glanced at my watch. Oof.. 8:30am in their time. They'll be frenetic! But before long, we had pulled into position, and the Earth below us basked in the warmth of the sun once more. \n\n------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- \n\n\n\"As you can see,\" the TV announcer squawked. \"The sun has returned to the sky after not rising or appearing for more than an hour! What happened? We still don't know, but the nation's leading scientists have confirmed they will look into it!\" Odin clicked the TV off and smiled. ", "It was over. I had failed. Why had I not been more vigilant? It was midsummer, but I could already feel the cold encroaching, as it would continue to do until all was ice and rime. There was no question as to what had happened: the sun was gone, and it was all my fault.\n\nAnd yet...I could not just lay down and die. It just wasn't in my nature. I was made of sterner stuff, I was a creature made with a purpose. I would defy the never-ending night -- even if I was too late, damn it all, I would try.\n\nI spread my black wings and leapt, fluttering to a stop atop the old wooden fence. Defiantly, I raised my beak to the sky, and crowed.\n\n_____________________________________________________\n\n...and finally tonight, scientists all over the world are still struggling to explain the unusual astronomical phenomenon that occurred this past Wednesday, as the sun seemed to disappear from all observation, only to reappear just as mysteriously an hour later. For more on this..." ]	2
	[WP] Gene editing has become so advanced that people order temporary genetic alterations as additives in their morning coffee. You work as a barista, and whoops... you just swapped two people’s orders.	[ "“One half-caff caramel macchiato with a shot of espresso, blue eyes and two pumps of charming.” The man handed me his credit card, glancing around the café as he did so.\n \n“Name?” \n\n“Uh… Jeremy.” \n\nI did my best not to snort. ‘Jeremy’ wasn’t a bad-looking guy, though his eyes were decidedly grey, not blue, and he seemed to be sweating a bit. The first-date jitters—coffee shop dates had been all too common even in the past, but since we’d introduced the GeneBoost additives to our caffeinated creations, every café in the country had been all but swarmed with lonely hearts. People like this guy, willing to pay a couple extra bucks to boost his appeal just long enough to make a good impression on whichever girl he was trying to win. \n\n“Sure thing, Jeremy. That’ll be $12.95.” \n\nNext up was a reedy-looking kid, picking through a pile of coins. Probably saved up all his lunch money for a couple of days, just to experiment with one of our gene additives. Kids were always trying to one-up each other with the combinations they ordered. I had to tell one teenager last week that we absolutely were not allowed to serve him a triple-shot of Well Endowed. Nature can only stretch so far. \n\n“One, um, coffee with four shots of Strong, please?” \n\nI almost rolled my eyes. I could see his friends giggling over at a table in the corner. It looked like they were setting up for an arm wrestling match.\n\n“I can’t give you four Strongs—you might break someone’s arm. But I can give you a Hulk Smash--two Strongs and two Aggressions, if that works?”\n\n“How much would that cost?” \n\nI typed it into my register. \n\n“$8.87.”\n\n“Okay.” \n\nThe kid counted the money out of his grubby hand and moved down to the end of the counter to await his Hulk Smash with a side of caffeine. \n\nSometimes I thought that messing with the body’s makeup like we did couldn’t possibly be good. Sure, it might give you an edge in an interview or win you that fight, but none of the attributes you drank were really yours. Just traits you borrowed like an old shirt, to wear for the moment. But the GeneBoosts wore off fairly quickly, so I suppose there was no long-term harm done. \n\n“One Hulk, for… I don’t know, and one caramel macchiato for Jeremy,” I announced after John was done making the drinks. My two customers approached the counter, and just as they did, the kids at the table in the corner cheered loudly. I was momentarily distracted, hoping they hadn’t broken anything. When I glanced back, both drinks were gone, their owners moving back to their prospective tables. \n\nTen minutes later, a pretty girl in a blue dress came in and ordered a cappuccino, plain. I liked her—I always felt a special warmth towards those who didn’t order GeneBoosts, I don’t know why. Maybe it was like we all belonged to some special self-esteem club. Or maybe we were all just too poor to afford the additives. \n\nThe girl sat down at a table by the window, across from “Jeremy,” who I faintly heard introduce himself as “Ryan.” Ten feet away from them, the kids were preparing to begin their arm wrestling challenge. It looked like the little reedy kid was going up against a monster of a ten-year-old. Natural brute strength vs. temporarily enhanced muscle. GeneBoosts were pretty impressive, but even still I had my doubts. That other kid was MASSIVE. The Rock trapped in the body of a fifth grader. \n\nCrack.\n\n“I’m so sorry!”\n\nI looked up to see Ryan holding a corner of the café table, which had apparently just broken off in his hand. It wasn’t an unusual occurrence for a few chairs or tables to get broken ever since we’d introduced the Strength GeneBoost, but Ryan hadn’t taken any of that, and he didn’t look strong enough to have broken the table on his own. \n\n“What’s going on here?” I swept over to retrieve the broken table corner from him. \n\n“It just broke off in his hand,” the girl said, shocked. \n\n“How?” I wondered. \n\n“What’s that supposed to mean? Are you accusing me of something!?” Ryan stood up to confront me. \n\n“Ryan! Sit down!” The girl looked horrified. \n\nOver in the corner, a shrill scream went up. The reedy kid choked back tears, clutching a newly-broken wrist. His eyes were strikingly blue, which I hadn’t noticed before. \n\nOh. No.\n\nI glanced from Ryan to the kid, my heart dropping. Reaching over Ryan, I tried to find the name on his cup, but there was none—just a smeared ‘HS’ for Hulk Smash. \n\nI’d mixed up the drinks.\n \n“Hey! I’m talking to you, punk!” Ryan shoved me over on the ground, fury in his eyes. \n\n“Stop it!” The girl tried to pull him off me, but it was like resisting a force of nature. Ryan towered over me, hauling back for a punch. \n“My wrist!” the kid in the corner wailed. \n\n“John! Help!” I called to my coworker, who’d been staying out of the mess so far. \n\n“Shit. Drink this,” John hustled out from behind the counter with the GeneNull—our last-resort antidote for the temporary effects of GeneBoost, if they ever got out of hand. We’d never had to use it before in this store, but I’d heard of others who had. \n\n“No,” Ryan growled, but the girl shoved John out of the way and took the little cup of antidote. \n\n“I’ll do it,” she said. She slapped Ryan full on the face, distracting him, and then poured the antidote straight down his mouth. We all watched him swallow, nervously waiting for the GeneNull to take hold. \n\nWhen it did, he blinked his eyes like a man waking from sleep. “What happened?” \n\n“You got the wrong drink,” I said, rising cautiously from the floor. “My mistake. We’re happy to comp you a month of free coffees in return for your trouble.” The company line, to avoid lawsuits if possible. \n\n“I… sure.” He looked dazed. “Do you want to go on another date sometime?” He turned to the girl in the blue dress. \n\n“No, I don’t think I do.” She turned and walked out, guiding the kid with the broken arm in front of her. “I’m gonna drive him to the hospital.” \n\n…And that’s why we’re not allowed to sell Hulk Smashes anymore. \n" ]	1
	[WP] You are part of world whose culture and religion is based around the concept that man was created by the gods. Irrefutable proof has just been discovered that it was actually the other way around, and that the gods had found a way to trick humanity in order to ascend to power.	[ "From the moment of birth, we are assigned our roles in society by higher powers. \n\nFrom the food we eat to the land we may walk upon, they take care of us, shepherding us to lead good and fulfilled lives. \n\nThis is what separates us from animals, who listen to no authority and are thus bound to the ways of savagery and primitive tribalism. \n\nThe powers above us lead our lives and give us direction, and without them we would truly be no better than animals.\n\nThese are the truths we are taught when we are young, these are the truths I hold close today. They guide my hand when I fulfill my duty and I do not resist, knowing full well that, as I have promised to them my life, they promise to keep it safe. My family, my property, my legacy, all the things I am told to value, all will be kept safe, as long as I am loyal; loyalty I give freely, as I know it all belongs to them anyway, and can easily be taken away.\n\nMy duty is no great honor. I am merely one of many that help guide and protect all those who live and serve.\n\nDissidents always seep through the cracks: those who live outside the established systems, who stubbornly remain archaic; those who wave old papers in the air and shout rallying cries of “freedom” and “individualism”. \n\nDo they not understand that our institutions were once built upon those very things? Do they not understand that the water they drink, the homes they live in\\- all, are supplied by the very same institutions they smear and decry?\n\nThat these maniacs would desire a world without our leaders baffles me. \n\nWhere is there clean water but in the bottes we drink? Where are our homes but in the houses they sell, made from the bricks they own? They tell us what to eat, and we do not starve. They give us medicine and we avoid sickness. All aspects of our lives are serviced by the companies, and almost all live content. How is it possible to deny truths like that?\n\nIt is not my duty to ask questions, though, and I find my solace in my work, as I pepper\\-spray their faces and break up their riots. \n\nEvery day they come, and stand in company\\-owned land, coming in company\\-built cars with company\\-distributed clothes, only to stand there, endlessly, shouting for the companies to stop.\n\nIt is my duty to beat them until they leave. They would certainly be safer if they just left. We are not paid to keep them safe. Sometimes, they do not end up leaving.\n\nAnd yet they come \\- in ever dwindling numbers \\- but still, they come. They beg for rights that have not existed for decades. Rights of a forgotten time for a forgotten people.\n\nI do not understand.\n\nI am not paid to understand." ]	1
	[WP] Lately, you’ve been noticing that whenever you make eye-contact with anyone, you see terror in their eyes.	[ "It started this morning.\n\nAt first, everything was perfect. The sun kissed my neck in a way I never knew possible, complimented by the soothing wind which kept the heat of the kiss to a gentle peck. The soft, white sand passed seamlessly between my toes as I meandered along the shore. The tide rolled in and out, splashing my legs gently as I went.\n\nEverything was perfect. Except for the people.\n\nI noticed the first man as I parked my car near the shore. He was the first soul I'd seen on this perfect summer day, yet he did not seem to share in my joy. His eyes spoke of something deeply unsettling as I passed him on the path to the beach. I could not place the look, and thought little of it, till I saw the couple at the head of the sandy shore. Their eyes shared a similar sentiment. Primal fear. A peculiar, wavering terror. As I looked into the pool of pity that was their eyes, I felt myself drawn closer, as though the fear and sadness they emanated would somehow infect me. The longer I stared into their eyes the worse I felt, until finally I had crossed their path, and they were safely behind me. I walked along the shore after that, hoping the fresh sea air might clear my thoughts.\n\nIt didn't help though, no matter how lovely the weather. Every time I looked up I saw another. Their eyes were hollow and sad, and told of immeasurable pain. I knew eyes could tell a story, but truly, I never knew they could tell a tale so frightful and morose. Each soul was in more pain than the last, each set of eyes more sunken and sad. Some started to weep, and I felt the sun disappear as I looked into their eyes, as if I were in a vacuum, being sucked further and further in.\n\nI heard the wailing of adults and children alike as I passed, their cries fading into obscurity as I pushed on, hoping to escape this nightmare which toyed with my sanity. I started to run, and the cries grew louder. Men and women stared deeper into my soul, like mindless zombies. One even vomited, like some infected, repugnant creature.\n\nMy mind raced with theories and conspiracies. The possibility of insanity crossed my potentially shattered mind. A virus? A nightmare? A curse of biblical proportions? But one thought stuck out, one more terrifying than any other reality.\n\nPerhaps this isn't a nudist beach.\n\n\\-\n\nr/ShittyStoryCreator :\\)" ]	1
	[WP] The only reason you're such a successful fortune teller is that you make your predictions happen	[ "\"So, Katia, are you ready to hear your fortune?\"\n\n\"Yes... Yes please.\" The woman said quietly. She was a woman, a wealthy one at that, and she was expecting her sixth child. Five kids already... What a handful. Her husband was a loving one, and a caring father to her five kids and her sixth one was just arriving. I wonder if she even knows if it is a boy or girl, or not? \n\n\"Alright... Let me get out the cards.\" I pull out the cards, and spread them out, folded down. \"Here we are. Pick a card, any card.\" \n\nThe woman, Katia, smiled softly, nodding before picking the first card. I smiled, \"Another, please.\" She did. \"That would be enough then. Alright, let's turn them over.\"\n\nI turned them over, and I thought, 'Bless her heart! Could she not have been any luckier.'\n\n\"You will have a very successful delivery, and your children will all grow up, to have very long and happy lives. But.... You shouldn't probably try to have another kid... We don't need the house to get too crowded now.\" \n\nKatia hummed, \"Thank you kindly!\" She got up and left, in higher spirits than before. \n\nShe really was quite a nice woman... So this came as an easy and relieving task, to make the prediction happen. \n\nI learned from my future sight that she was due to have the kid any day now, so I disguised as a nurse, and I made sure I had all of the skills necessary to work with the woman. At one point of time she did get rushed to the hospital to have her child... And her delivery was successful, nothing ill had come about. \n\nNext, I saw it that none of the kids had anything bad happen to them. Eventually, they did grow to have happy, healthy, and long lives. \n\nAnd then, the man came. He sat down, and I gave him his fortune. \n\n\"Even in all of the souls that have been stolen, the last one to have been stolen is your own.\"\n\nA vile omen, if you will... But this man was particularly vile himself. \n\nBack then, he was shocked, and worried, when he left. But years later, he became a serial killer. He took so many lives... But now his fortune was to come into play. I disguised as a shadow, and took with me a knife. I went into his last victim's house. The man had just finished hiding the body. He didn't even check behind him when I snuck up behind him and held up the knife... \n\nSuch a shame, too. I did think him to be on the handsome side. " ]	1
	[WP] You're a Dungeon Manager: the one who decides what kind of monsters lurk in the halls and what adventurers dive in. The final boss, Taroth the Terrible, has just resigned, but you have a group of adventurers scheduled next week.	[ "\"Next...\" I toss the resume into the Fiery Pits of Hellspawn.\n\nEver since Taroth the Terrible decided he needed a vacation, my entire dungeon has been flipped upside down. We were suppose to be ready for the next group of adventurers but right now anyone would do.\n\nWell...almost anyone. So far, the only candidates that had come up were all demanding a bigger raise than Taroth. While I care about a satisfying dungeon, I do not care about shrinking funds.\n\nEvery now and then, a party gets lucky and even with Taroth, almost every party that passed by my dungeon has walked away with my profits. Our profits. Whatever, I pay the traps around here. I get to call it my profit.\n\nWell...so far legals pressuring me to hire an Orc. Something about dragons being a liability with their hoarding and stuff. Either way, I wasn't going to hire any of these villains.\n\nFirst of all...their records make Taroth look like a demigod. Adventurers get bored of easy marks. And they're predictable. Double bad for business.\n\nBy now, I was ready to throw in the towel when the last candidate came in. Now don't get me wrong. I'm an equal opportunity employer when it comes to monsters but even I know when someone is getting in over their heads.\n\nAnd this girl definitely didn't belong here. She looked young, probably some farmer's daughter by the looks of her clothes and sweet smile. Sure I could use a damsel in distress but this dungeon didn't do hostage situations. Mostly because it was hard to get hostages in the first place.\n\n\"Ummm...can I help you?\" \n\n\"Oh yes, I'm here for umm...the final boss application?\" She inquired.\n\n\"Final...okay umm...are you some sort of shapeshifter.\"\n\nThe girl shook her head. \"Nope, as human as they get! The name's Anna!\"\n\n\"Anna...\" I stood up from my iron throne. I'll give it to her, she could make a good adventurer with the way she kept that smile up. Seriously. Dark Overlord isn't even close to my description. \"...you know this is well...a monster application. You don't look like much of a monster.\"\n\n\"Oh but I am!\" Anna insisted, holding up what looked like a jar of some sort of jam. \"I'm a really good monster too! I've been practicing.\"\n\n\"Yeah, and I'm guessin' this is your first dungeon?\"\n\n\"Mhmm!\"\n\n\"Okay here's the facts, you don't look scary. These adventurers are predominantley big...brawn...guys. They ain't gonna hit you and they'll probably drag you back to town because they'll think you got captured or something!\"\n\n\"Wait! C'mon give me a chance!\" Anna pleaded. \"Wha-what about a test run?\"\n\n\"A test run?\" I sighed. Honestly, the adventurers were coming soon. I didn't really have a choice at this point. Maybe I could just leave her in the final room. Play on the ambience or something.\n\n\"Whatever. You're hired if the adventurers DON'T walk off with my loot, alright?\"\n\nHer face was beaming. \"Of course, I won't disappoint you sir!\" \n\n-----------------------------------\n\nI don't usually watch the dungeon crawls, but I was curious to see how our new hire was doing. So far, the adventurers had barely made it past my first few rooms. Nothing spectacular. A few dead here and there.\n\nThe wizard was scouting out the final room and that's when I noticed it was completely dark. \n\nI hoped she wasn't trying to sleep on the job now.\n\nThe group was small, four guys with the barbarian as the party leader. As soon as they reached the chest, I could see Anna was slung against it, bruised.\n\nWell either she'd tried to tussle with one of my monsters or she did that herself. Either way, this was a pretty sorry excuse for holding them back.\n\n\"The Divines help us.\" The warrior bent down. \"That wurm had kidnapped a maiden!\"\n\n\"Oh please!\" Anna grabbed onto him. \"I-I don't know how long I've been here.\"\n\n\"Worry not, maiden.\" The wizard smiled. \"You're in good hands.\"\n\n\"I...don't what else to say.\" Anna blushed, pulling out the jam from earlier. \"I was delivering my father's prized jam. It's the only one left but...I managed to hold it, hoping perhaps it could remind me of home.\"\n\n\"There's nothing here!\" The wizard exclaimed, looking through the chest. \n\nWell that wasn't good. If word got around I didn't have any gold, no adventurers would stick their necks out.\n\n\"Sir...I know it isn't much but...\" Anna offered up the jam. \"Please...if you can share this. It's the only reward I can offer.\"\n\n\"Sweet maiden, you mustn't-\"\n\n\"Now it would be rude to reject an offering.\" The wizard pulled out some loaves. \"The maiden is right. And I doubt we'll be dealing with any monsters out here.\"\n\nGreat. So not only did she NOT put up a fight. She's decided to have a nice dandy picnic in my dungeon! As the four adventurers sat around their makeshift fire, I had half a mind to storm in and deal with them myself.\n\nBut just then, I noticed each of them freeze, as if they'd eaten something truly revolting.\n\n\"Wh-what?\" The wizard managed to gasp as he fell back. \n\nAnd that's when I noticed Anna standing over them, a smirk forming across her lips. \"It's a very rare recipe indeed.\"\n\n\"I can't move my arms!\" The warrior glared at her. \"What have you done?\"\n\n\"Paralyzed you.\" Anna smiled. \"It makes it easier.\"\n\n\"Wh-what easier?\" The wizard asked.\n\n\"To practice my spells!\"\n\nTo be honest, I'm known for being a pretty sadistic overlord. Even worse when I became a Dungeon Master. But Anna...Anna took sadism to the next level.\n\nI'd almost wished she'd just killed them. It would have been merciful. Instead, she's turned them into some sort of...servant of sorts.\n\nTurns out she kept the room dark to spread the treasure around and she even laced some of the more valuable items with that \"jam\" of hers. \n\nWe went from an easy pick to a place where only the most skilled adventurers could plunder. And even then, Anna got them again and again.\n\nIt scared me how easy she played them. One minute, she looked helpless and pitiful and the next, she was readying her \"tools\" and grinning like a goblin.\n\nStill, profits were booming and who am I to judge. Taroth recently sent me a letter requesting him back but I've told him that if he wants his job back he's got to win my dungeon.\n\nAfter all, thralls are a lot cheaper than employees.\n\n\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] There is a pay phone in the middle of nowhere. If you let it ring you will die in seven days. If you pick up the phone you will know of a secret the human race shouldn't know.	[ "Out in the mountains,\n\nRight where the river runs dry,\n\nIs the Phone of Destiny,\n\nAwaiting the right hello.\n\nMany go there to die. \n\nMany go there to learn.\n\nI went with my sister,\n\nWondering if this was suicide,\n\nOr survival. \n\nIt rang. \n\nShe did not answer.\n\nIt rang.\n\nI rushed forward.\n\nI learned one hard truth.\n\nDeath will answer all questions,\n\nFor the right price." ]	1
	[WP] You live in a beautiful house on a completely isolated island. There are no links to the outside world. Your only company is a man you have been told is a dangerous criminal, you are his guard & must never ask about his crimes. Today you learn he has been told the same thing.	[ "I dont particularly like doing anything. I was told that I could anything that I set my mind to, which is why I decided on focus on nothing. My parents were both dead leaving me with a substantial inheritance, nothing fancy which would buy me a Ferrari, but large enough that I did not have to work. I had a string of failed romances, women thought that they could reform me, change me into a better man. When they failed, they packed up and left, and their place was taken over another drunken late night fling that extended sometimes for weeks or sometimes months. The only constant in my life was my mutt, Jacob Firepooper. I named him after the only memory I had of my grandfather, it was that or call him mold smell. The dog died a few weeks ago. And for the first time since my parents died, I felt alone. I had no real friends and no family, it was just me against this world. I like reading the newspaper, going through the lies that the white collared murderers in Washington peddled to the country was therapeutic. Going to Judy's every evening and hearing the grumpy old Republicans and Democrats, who voted the way they did because that's how their GrandFathers voted, arguing over the finer points of the days news was free entertainment. Oh, that I liked looking at the ads for ladies of the night, if you may. That was how I had chanced upon an advertisement in the local daily below the ad for Luscious Momma, I like her service. No bullshit, get undressed, fuck, leave. Simple and uncomplicated, I guess in some way she was the only other constant that I had in my life. The advertisement was a call for a security guard. A security guard for a prison located on Island. An Island which was located on the Amazon river. Thinking that it was a prank by the local boys and because I had nothing else to do, I picked up the phone and dialed the number. A sweet young miss answered the call. she asked me if I was over the age of 25, if I could travel to the location in two days time, if I was okay with not having contact with the outside world for a year. I said yes. I got the tickets to Brazil the next day in the mail. Well shit, I thought, This is actually legit. I packed up the clothes I had in a rucksack, closed the door and went to the airport. I reached Manaus bright and early the next day. I came out of the airport, not really knowing what to do, I realized at this point that I should have saved the number of the person I had called, as I was musing this unfortunate turn of events and contemplating if I should book a flight back home, I felt someone touch me on my shoulders. I turned around to look at a well dressed young South American man, who stood there flashing a rather absurd smile. I had the itch to punch him in the face there. He asked me if I am who I was, and I said that I was indeed who he was saying I was, and he gestured that I should follow him and I did, I followed him out of the Airport and stopped when he did at the parking area, a white Ford van pulled up in front of him and he moved aside, looked at me, stilling sporting that ridiculous smile and gestured that I should get in, I was sure here that they were going to kill me. I just hoped that they made it quick, I have heard that Brazilian folks love to torture their detainees. The door was slammed shut and the van lurched forward, they seemed to on the clock, I thought that they would have some one else to torture and skill today. It was surreal, I often hate when people use that word, they use it like they do Irony. But, really felt surreal, Here I was sure that these people were going to kill me and I was thinking about their schedule. The insides of the van wasn't typical cartel, torturing fare though. It was tastefully decorated. There was a couch, a cooler, and a carpet. All of which were white, it looked like the insides of a testing facility than it did a van. I could not see the driver or if someone was sitting next to the driver, it was separated by a partition, like the kind in limos. It was at this point that the driver, or maybe it was the one sitting next to the driver decided to speak. \n\n\"How are you holding back there?\" I could not detect anything from his voice, if he was from Brazil, I wouldn't know, It sounded like how someone would sound in a bar back home. \n\n\"I am okay,\" \n\n\"Good.\" I heard him opening something, a small sound, I figured it mustve been the file they have on me. Oh, I am sure that they have a file on everyone at this point. \n\n\"So, Do you know anything about the job?\"\n\n\"Of course I do,\" I decided that I did not like the way this guy was talking to me, \"You needed a guard , guarding the worst cartel leaders in Brazil. So that when their henchmen come to set their bosses free, I become cannon fodder. There was muffled laughter from the front of the van.\n\n\"You are funny, humor will help you where you are going.\" I think he told me something he shouldn't have, he went quite and it was like I was alone in this floating palace, that was the other thing about the van, I knew that we had gone through a couples of potholes and a few speed breakers. But, I felt nothing, it was really like I was floating. A regular person would have been surprised by all this and would have started to have an anxiety attack, to me this was nothing but to be expected, I think that was the reason why I was selected for the job. I do not think that the advertisements were national or even state wide, Something tells me that they had placed the ad only in the newspaper that I brought and placed it beneath the advertisement for the whore-house that I frequented. They had made sure that I would apply for the job. Or it could be that I just made it all up in my head and gave them more points than they deserve. \n\nThe Van eventually came to a halt and the door opened letting in the warm Brazilian sunlight in, I stepped out and instantly regretted ever having left home. I knew that the summer would be different in the tropics, I did not expect the sun to burn my skin. I now had to worry about not dying before the mob bosses got to me. I looked at the man who had opened the door for me, he was dressed the same the man who had greeted me at the airport had been, tailored to fit light blue three piece suit, sporting the same smile that made me want to smash it in, at least this one did not look like a Mexican. \n\n\"Had a fun ride?\" He was the one who was talking to me, I nodded in affirmative. He gestured to his right and followed his gaze. We were at a dock, a dock by a river. A river which was both muddy and black. I had to rub my eyes to confirm what I was seeing, the man standing next to me decided to enlighten me at this point. \n\n\"Ah, the Rio Negro and Riol Solimoes. They continue this way for a while before they become the Amazon river. I am sure you must have read about the Amazon river.\" I could sense a touch of pride in his voice. Why he was feeling that way over a river, I did not understand. \n\n\"Why are we here?\" \n\nThe man, he still had not given me his name, I guess that's how things work in this part of the world. He pointed at a sea-plane which was docked a little further ahead from the dock I had noticed, it lay there bobbing on the currents of the river. I could see that its paint was coming off in parts and it looked like the last time it been properly washed Diana was still doing that Arab. \n\n\"And where is that supposed to take me?\"\n\n\"To the place you are to guard.\" He looked at me as though I was a child asking impossible and ridiculous questions. \"Where you not told of it?\"\n\n\"Well, no.\" My exasperation clearly audible in my voice. \n\n\"Hmmm.\" He crossed his arms, looked at me and looked at the seaplane. \"Oh well, might as well tell you now.\" He paused for a beat, before I could get my protest in, in powered ahead. \n\n\"The place you are going to is a facility where one of the world's most dangerous criminal has been housed. It is an Island on the Amazon, where the only way in through the SeaPlane, getting to the island through is nearly impossible because of the rapids a few kilometers ahead and there are no real roads in that part of the country.\"\n\nSo I was going to be in the middle of literal nowhere, with the only company being a villain so dangerous he doesn't tell me the villan's name. \"And how many guards are there?\"\n\nHe looked at me with the same confused expression from before, \"Did you not read the ad clearly, there was the call for only one guard. Only two people are going to be on the Island, you and the Prisoner.\" \n\n\"Well isn't that just dandy. I refuse to go there. Take me back.\" I decided that I had enough of this tomfoolery. You would almost miss the sound of a gun being armed in that place, the sound of the river covering it up, I guess my hearing wasn't all that bad after all. I turned around to look at the driver, I guess, pointing a Glock 19 at me. \n\n\" I am afraid that is impossible, considering you have come all this way, why dont you just go there. Who knows maybe you will even like it.\" \n\nThis guy would sell me a tour package to North Korea if I let him. \"Alright. After you\" I lifted up my rucksack and followed the fellow who was talking to me to the seaplane. Just as we neared the plane, he yelled out in his language and a head popped out of the plane. The guy was thin and was wearing an Iron Maidens' tee shirt, with an overgrown beard and an uncontrolled hair. He took one look at me and went inside the plane, which sputtered to life a few seconds later. The man in the suit turned around to look at me, and as if he had just remembered that he left his gas open, he dove into his suit and extracted a strip of yellow looking pill. He extended it to me. When I looked at him questiongly. \n\n\"To help you relax during the flight, they can get bouncy.\" \n\nI took them and put them in my bag, \"Well, how long is the trip?\"\n\n\"Well, at best guess, it will take you under an hour.\" \n", "The island was breathtaking, a mile wide and a half mile across with not another piece of land in sight. It never seemed to get about 75 with the nice breeze. It would’ve been a beautiful getaway had it not been for us. Him, a devious criminal with unspeakable crimes; myself acting as his guard. Still not sure what I was supposed to be guarding him from considering it was just me, the island, and no way of getting off it. \n\nWe had been out there for a few hours now, fruitlessly trying to catch our breakfast and lunch for the day. \n\n“I told you we should’ve stayed on the north side of the island; the fish always bite over there.” \n\nHe stared blankly at me and recast his line. He was a gruff man of about 50, long hair and a greying beard rounded out by the scar crossing from his temple to his cheek. He never spoke more than a few words to me, no matter what I said to him. To this day I still had no idea what ended him up on this island and I wasn’t supposed to ask. It had been 3 years, 6 months, and 4 days at this point. \n\n“I’m going over to the other side, you coming?” I started packing up my rod and chair awaiting answer. \n\n“Hmmpf.” He scoffed, slowly bringing in his line. \n\nI turned throwing my hands in the air. Unbelievable! He must be here for annoying people to death. I sat back down and thought I’d just watch him fail. \n\nHe continued to cast and reel his line in, over and over again, not catching a thing for an hour. We sat in silence as he kept his effort up without a sign of aggravation. \n\n“Hey, can I ask you something?”\n\nHe looked at me with that same cold stare he always did, “sure.” \n\n“What did you do to get sent here?”\n\n“What are you talking about?” He cast his line back out again. \n\n“You know what I mean. Your crimes. What exactly did you do to get sent out here for good with me as your guard?”\n\nHe stopped reeling his line and shifted in his chair to square up towards me. “Like I said what are you talking about? I’m here as your guard. Not the other way around.”\n\nSuddenly we heard the whoosh of a helicopter as it began to appear in the distance. As it grew closer it blew the roof off our make shift shelter. It lowered to a hover not too far above as we saw the silhouette of a man come out the side. \n\n“Congrats you two, that’s a new record. Now head over to the west side of the island so we can pick you up and give you your prize.”\n" ]	2
	[WP] The little window of your new studio apartment points toward a bizarre, rather fantasy looking bell tower. You lived for months ignoring it until you discovered that no such tower exists in town...	[ "It wasn't until Sonia finally unpacked the last stack of boxes that she noticed. \n\nMost of the window had been covered by containers full of old school books and unused cookware, but when she finally got around to unpacking the stack she noticed it.\n\nThe window behind the boxes was wrong. \n\nIt was the weirdest thing, especially since there was another window just two feet away and that window didn't show a giant, silver tower shooting up out from the middle of the Gersaw Historical Park.\n\nSonia spent several minutes moving from one window to the other and looking out through both of them. Huge tower in one, no tower in the other. She moved around to make sure it wasn't just some fancy decal, but it wasn't. Every way she looked at it, one window showed her a normal landscape, the other showed something else. \n\nPacking and her other afternoon plans were abandoned as she investigated. Maybe it was some sort of digital projection? She examined the window and found another strange thing. The window frame has a second set of clasps in addition to the usual ones for opening and closing it. She carefully undid the extra clasps and then yelped as the glass pane fell out of the frame and thunked her on the head. \n\nShe managed to grab it just before it rolled off her skull and onto the floor. \n\nSonia stood there for a long moment, just holding the pane of glass over her head and looking out of the now open window. No tower out there now. She carefully lowered the glass until she was looking through it. The tower could be clearly seen through it. \n\nThere was something weird about this glass. Now that she was holding it so close to her face she could see the tiny streaks of gold that ran through it. They weren't metal and they weren't any kind of glass. They almost looked like...hair.\n\nSonia sat there for a long time. Brows furrowed and lips pursed as she moved and examined the strange glass. \n\nSonia felt something she had forgotten for a long time. She was excited and curious and a smile kept pulling at the corner of her lips. She felt like she was ten years old and playing with a gyroscope again. She didn't understand this at all and that was awesome!\n\nShe had the glass. she knew where the tower was. There was only one thing that she could possible do next.\n\n**\n\nSonia's grin was hurting her face as she stood in the middle of Gersaw park holding the glass piece in front of her. \n\nIt was so damn cool!\n\nFor starters, the tower was inhabited. Small, terribly green creatures with four wings like dragonflies but bodies like some sort of malnourished child flew around the tower like a swarm. They moved with purpose and direction. They carried things up to certain levels and disappeared inside elegant balconies and portals, then others would come out and carry things down. It was like something between a hive and a busy office. \n\nThe artwork on the tower was incredible. She spent at least five minutes just looking at the scroll work on a balcony rail a few feet up. She could swear that the carvings in it moved* as she watched them. They seemed to be telling a story, but in a way that she wasn't meant to understand. \n\nShe wasn't sure how long she'd been standing there when the man walked in front of the glass and grabbed the top of it.\n\n\"The El Vesule don't really like being watched.\"\n\nSonia was about to tell the man to fuck off when she realized what he'd just said. She looked up into the man's face and she felt a cold shiver run between her shoulders. There was something strange about him. It was almost eighty in the sun here and he was wearing a trench coat. Only sci-fi dweebs and goths did that, but the coat wasn't even black. It was a dirty brown with stains around the edges, some of which looked like blood.\n\nHis face had the tired patience of someone who did an unforgiving but necessary job, like a janitor or teacher. She took a step back from him and tried to take the glass with him but he didn't let go, forcing the glass to tilt a bit down between them instead. \n\nSomething in the glass caught Sonia's eye and she looked at it.\n\nHer breath froze in her throat. There was a girl there, holding on to the man's leg like a child would do to her father when she was scared. The thing was, she was only half there. Even through the glass Sonia could see beyond the girl to the ground behind her.\n\n\"Please be careful.\" The man said gently, \"Carol glass is pretty rare and easily broken. I would love to know where you got it, but unfortunately I have other things to get done today.\"\n\n\"Who...\" Sonia pointed at the small ghost girl she could only see through the glass.\n\n\"Oh, it shows her too? Well.\" The man used the distraction to pluck the rest of the glass pane from Sonia's fingers. \"Emily, can you say hello?\"\n\nHello!\n\nSonia forgot how to breathe for a second. She'd heard that, but not with her ears. She heard it in her head. It was a strange and terrible feeling.\n\n\"You can hear her too?\" The man held up the glass pane and examined it in much the same way Sonia had before. \"I'll be damned.\"\n\n\"Who...What....\"\n\n\"Harold Bitter.\" The man smiled toward her. \"I'm kind of the beat cop around here, but for, well, this kind of things.\"\n\nHarold waved the glass pane around in emphasis. \n\n\"Now, I am sorry about this, but it comes with the job. Emily!\" \n\nYes, papa?\n\n\"Put the lady to sleep, please.\" \n\n\"Wait, you can't that is my-\"\n\n***\n\nSonia woke up in her apartment. She got out of bed, looked at the clock, cursed at how late it was, then wandered out into her living room. It was way too hot in here. She was about to call the super and complain when she noticed the open window and the missing boxes. She hadn't unpacked those yet, had she? \n\nShe moved to close the window but found it was already closed, just missing the glass.\n\nThen she had the most intense and confusing bout of deja vu she had ever experienced." ]	1
	[WP]You're God and everyone worships you, tell us about that time where you did something for the greater good but everyone lost respect for you.	[ "I don’t know that I’m ever going to hear the end of it for killing off those dinosaurs. But I’m here to tell you I did it for the greater good...\n\nReally. How long did you think those puny human bodies were going to survive against gigantic ruthless lizards? And don’t get me started on the overpopulation issues they were having. Hardly room to breathe down there with so much available to eat. \n\nSo, I sent an asteroid their way, wiping out the dinosaurs and paving way for a new species. Humans, primarily. But I tossed in some miniaturized look alikes to keep things interesting - iguanas, alligators, chickens. \n\nNow they won’t leave me alone about that evolution thing. Guess the stuff I made was too close to the other guys. " ]	1
	[WP] If you die, you are reborn stronger. It has been centuries and you long for eternal rest. You never wanted to be a Dark Lord but you realize that it may be the only way to achieve your goal. Let those heroes come...	[ "They must be stopped. I must stop them. I must wipe them from the face of this Earth. Birth and life. Death and rebirth. On and on. Over and Over. It must end.\n\nI couldn’t remember how many times I had tried to end it all, to kill myself and dive into the eternal bliss of nothingness. But each time, I had simply been reborn, stronger and more determined than ever. \n\nOne day I sat looking at my mother tending to her garden. Pulling weeds, planting flowers, and watering all the greenery, bringing life into the world. Her effort was an affront to my mission, my war against life. She actively opposed me. So while her back was turned, I crept up behind her and buried a hoe into the back of her head. That was a moment of pure inspiration, a moment of hope that maybe, just maybe, I really could end it all. \n\nAnd so I waged my holy war against, not life, but the givers of life – women. I hunted them and slaughtered them with a rabid ferocity. Once I had seen the light, once I could see the end to my eternal suffering, nothing could stand in my way. \n\nIn desperation, a league of heroes was formed to oppose my holy mission. The White Knights they called themselves. I crushed them, like the vermin they were. Wave after wave rose against me, but I slaughtered them with an almost casual flick of the wrist. They had no idea how many times I had suffered death and rebirth. They were insects compared to the almighty Chad. The “noble” sacrifice for their ladies was in vain. \n\nBut no matter how fast I killed, they would always return, like a weed that dug its roots deeper into the earth. The women would return stronger than ever, and their protectors, The White Knights, became more and more difficult to defeat. \n\nIn a final battle, my followers, known as the Chads, attempted an all out assault on the female stronghold of Catalonia. We crashed upon the walls of Catalonia like water on rock and the White Knights decimated our numbers. As we retreated the Knights launched a counter-offensive, cutting me off from my troops. I slashed and I tore my way through them, but their numbers were overwhelming. At last, they managed to kill the almighty Chad. \n\nBut I was not defeated. I was simply reborn, unnoticed and undetected, amongst the thousands of babies who are born every year within the haven of Catalonia. \n\nYou see in my defeat I have claimed victory. The only way to stop me is for the White Knights to accomplish my mission of slaughtering their ladies and ending the cycle. Until that day comes, I will never relent. I will rise and rise again until I achieve my goal, or it is achieved for me. \n", "Blades, daggers, spears, and almost every other pointed weapon from across the lands sticks out from my body. The shadows disappear to reveal my body, expanded and grown from the dark powers, and slumped against a chair of bone. The heroes below me all struggle to catch their breaths. The temple floor is soaked with all of our blood. Their weapons all emit a colorful yellow glow that remind me of my grandmother's pear tree. I can feel the Setting spells travel through my body, ready to close my body off after my soul leaves so I cannot be rebirthed.\n\nI can't help but smile as my plans comes together. The heroes grit their teeth in oblivious disapproval. I let the magic flow out from my body and it captures them all. I look at all of them, frozen stuff in anger and fear. \"Before I die, I'm going to tell you why I did it. Why I did all of this. And when to bring me back.\" I feel my magic enter their minds and I reveal my history.\n\n---\n\nCockiness.\n\nIt was my biggest flaw. My friends told me that. My family told me that.\n\nAnd then my wife told me that, with a tearful smile on her face. The both of us laid in each other's arms, surrounded by the cool breeze of night and the soot of fire.\n\nThe red horned beast howled. I can still see the black blood dripping from its wounds. It spoke in a snarl. \"I will return in a few millennia. Long after the world has forgotten about me and your bloodline has grown weak. And then, I will rule over all.\" The beast howled again as the Earth opened up and fires sprang up and wrapped around it, dragging it down below. The fires then all went out and our bodies were left to bask in the pale moonlight.\n\nI apologized. I apologized for failing in my duty. For failing as the chosen one. For letting my own cockiness ruin the prophecy. For letting the King of the Underworld slip away, when I was the only one who could kill him. For dooming the world. For failing her.\n\nBut she simply smiled. Blood gushed out of her more than me but she could still look at me with a smile that made me think everything might be okay.\n\nAnd then she kissed me. And a bright white glow emitted from her eyes and through her lips. A warmth entered my body and I felt numb as my wounds began to sear and cauterize. A euphoric feeling that I tried to fight, tried to refuse. But I couldn't. And when it was over, I was no longer on death's door, but she had already walked through.\n\nIt was soul magic. Even as a healer it was something she shied away from. And yet in her final moments she used most of her own soul for the Rebirth spell. A spell known by many as one of the most taboo. It is a spell that prevents my from crossing over after dying. My soul lies in limbo for a while, and then comes back to my body. My soul absorbs the energy from the afterlife and as a result I'm stronger when I return to life.\n\nIt's a forbidden spell. And one that few try since it isn't the same as immortality. Nobody wants to be the strongest just as they're about to die.\n\nOf course I wasn't aware of what she had done at first. I merely thought she healed me. And even against what I thought was her wish, I didn't want to live any longer. I didn't want to live with the shame of failure. I didn't want to live with the notoriety of dooming the world in the future. But most of all I didn't want to live without her.\n\nSo I took my broken blade and struck it through my chest. I still remember the tears in my eyes. And the feeling of blood bursting out as I pulled the blade out. I crumpled next to my love and stared at her cold face.\n\nAnd I died.\n\nAnd then I lived.\n\nAnd then I realized what she'd done.\n\nI'm not sure if she knew what I would end up doing. If the thought had crossed her mind. Surely she wanted me to stay alive. Stay strong and fix my wrong. But did she think I would just become an old withered husk of a man? Did she think I would perhaps pick up magic? Not rely on physical strength? Or did she think I would travel to find the fabeled fountain of youth? Or that I would search for immortality?\n\nOr did she know that what I would ultimately decide on was to become the strongest that I could be? That I would look into the dark arts? Train under the scum we fought against? Usurp the dark lords I bowed to and become one myself? Turn my blade and magic against the ones we once called friends and family? That I would lead the strongest of them to this hidden temple, in the hopes that they would kill me? That I would leak my Rebirth power to them so that they would give their all and kill me and make sure I stay dead, so I can enter an eternal rest, my soul growing stronger until the time came for me to wake up?\n\nIn those few moments did she even have an idea that I may walk this path?\n\nAnd would she still love me if she saw me now?\n\nI've struggled with those thoughts for a long time now. And I know that I'll struggle with them even more when I enter this deep sleep.\n\nI cannot guarantee that I'll stay sane during my rest. I'm not sure if I'm still sane to begin with. Maybe this will be the punishment for my sins. But all of this, is to stop the beast.\n\nAnd all I ask of you and the next generations you help lead, is that when the beast walks on our world again, wake me up. Bring me back. Let me right my wrong.\n\nPlease.\n\n---\n\n---\n\n\"Help us, please!\" an echoing voice screams. \"Please!\" it repeats over and over, slowly getting louder. \"Wake up! You're our only hope now!\" I struggle to open my eyes, but I don't know how. I struggle to move but I'm not sure if anything is happening. I know I must be in my body but the feeling is nostalgic yet forgotten.\n\nI hear a thunderous roar and a laughter that shakes my senses. I feel a heat surround my body.\n\n\"They're here. Its army is here!\"\n\nThe heat becomes stronger, and yet somewhere deep within me, I feel a different heat.\n\n\"You have to wake up! It's returned!\"\n\nI open my eyes. I see a young girl holding one of the blades that I had been impaled with. Dirt and ash cover her body. The rest of the weapons all lay between her and I.\n\n\"Yes! Yes please get up! Help me-help us! Our magic isn't as strong anymore, we can't fight against it!\"\n\nA large figure enters view at the end of the temple. A bloody monster carrying a cage of corpses on its back and wielding a large mace. A terror from the realm of the Beast. One of its brutes.\n\nIf not for the cracking of the layer of stone on my body, I wouldn't have noticed that I had started smiling. I could feel a fire in me. A strength unlike any I'd known. The cracking spread as I lifted myself from my chair. The girl covers her head as stone pieces rain down upon her. I shake my body and charge forward. The brute raises its mace but my fist has already sunk into its chest. A second later and its whole body explodes into a black paste.\n\nI hear a yelp from behind me. The girl cowers against my chair. She looks more afraid now than she had looked a few moments earlier.\n\nI walk towards her, the ground shaking with each step. Bits of rock and dust fall free from the ceiling. \n\n\"W-w-what have I done?\"\n\n\"You did what needed to be done. You woke up the chosen one. Now tell me...where?\"\n\n\"W-where what?\"\n\nIn the reflection of the girl's eyes I could see my face had turned to a grimace. \"The beast! Where is it?\"\n\n---" ]	2
This is based off of a dream I had last night. Have fun!	[WP]You are the child of a preacher and your father has always talked about waiting to hear from the voice of God. One night in bed you finally hear His voice :" Summon a demon from Hell."	[ "In bed. Waiting for sleep. I usually can never sleep. By now I've accepted God isn't real, but my parents would never accept that so I keep it a secret. I browse through YouTube on my phone and come across a video. \"Sleep meditation. Restful sleep. You'll be one with God.\" Weird. I click on it. Just some words and atmospheric music in the background. Fake, I thought. \n\nI settle into bed, expecting to lie there without sleep for another hour or two. \"Hear the voice of God\", the video says. A low frequency tone vibrates through my phone. I've never heard God's voice. I've prayed all my 23 years and never heard anything other than chatter. A weird feeling starts creeping up from the top of the back of my head and down my spine. \n\nIn a clear, distinct voice I hear: Bring back Sephus the demon from Hell. This is your own task, your calling. This is the God, the Almighty.\n\nI sat straight up in my bed. My body starts to vibrate. I turn off the video, but I still hear echoes of the words in my head. \n\nTbc. " ]	1
Seeing all this new planet hype (don't personally believe it) made me want something like this	[WP] A 9th planet was just discovered to orbit our sun at a different angle than the rest of the system. NASA's lander just landed on the surface, and after 3 hours of exploring it goes dark.	[ "\"This is my first hand account feel free to use it as a Primary Source in your history books: \n\n\nLast week was when Rocket McRocketFace first landed on New Askew Pluto. The Internet was aflame. After all, we did get to name both the rocket AND the Planet. NASA took the L of trying to use this expedition as a social media campaign and asked us to vote on the name^(1). All over the world Everyone was watching Astronauts Dr. Taylor Swift and famous Youtuber who I will call some L.A. teenager livestream the whole event on Youtube. Some people even made drinking games out of it. Twitch\\-ers were streaming their reactions... and the dark side of 4chan was already planning to troll mainstream media into believing that NASA is really just 13 kids in a trenchcoat. \n\n\n Taylor was first off the Rocket the Red\\-Nosed Reindeer or whatever I called it in that first paragraph. Mostly Taylor and some L.A. Teenager were just walking around and Vlogging. Taylor was promoting her new album \"33 rich and still upset\" and some Teenager from L.A. just kept saying click on the link in the description like a Soundcloud Adlib. The accompanying scientists in the background were doing some scientist stuff, yah, I don't know collecting rocks and measuring atmospheric pressure or something, yah. I think some of the scientists might have been helllllllllllllla thirsty because they were like drinking some liquid straight from what looked like a canal on New Pluto and cheering and hugging each\\-other, probably just happy they finally got something to drink, I couldn't really hear what they were saying because I needed to know whether I needed Tidal or Apple Music in order to purchase \"33RASU\". Ultimately the feed was quite entertaining. Then everything went dark. NASA was freaking the expletive out. We lost contact for what felt like hours. People were already posting Thoughts and Prayers on Facebook, and conspiracy theorists were getting to the bottom of the fiasco thankfully reminding us all that this was likely a staged video shoot \$como aterrizar en la lu^(n)a2\$ and that we should really be paying attention to the Vatican's tariffs on those white things priests put in their collars. President Oprah issued an emergency address within which somehow everyone watching got A FREE VITAMIX BLENDER 3d\\-printed directly underneath their seats while VeeP Ellen Degeneres danced away the bad feelings... :'\\) After about 20 minutes the feed turned back on. People were cheering and crying, college students were hugging Cops, and even the most throbbing and massive brained college professor acknowledged their sanitation workers as being their peer. \n\n\n It was really a unifying moment for humanity... \nUntil we all saw that the feed was empty. Well not empty, simply devoid of celebrity. Nothing but the beautiful New Askew Pluto skyscape, painted with the most Effervescent palette of blues, pinks, and greens. Some would say the view was indescribable. I would disagree. It wasn't like doing DMT and seeing Osiris^(3) with your 8th eye or anything but it WAS as if every audience member was granted the gift of synaesthesia and New Askew Pluto's skyscape was the musical styling of the forever\\-classic: \"Bad and Bougee but every lyric is replaced with Lil Uzi Vert saying Yah,Yah,Yah\". Needless to say it was a moment of true beauty, a moment that left those privy to the event feeling truly ascended beyond our physical form, able to see like Muad'Dib. After what felt like an eternity the view slowly panned to the left and to everybody's relief the Scientists and Celebrities were safe and sound, in fact they were all hanging about and out of their Space suits. \n\n\n LOLLLLLL turns out that the Youtuber was filming the skyscape for us the whole time while the scientists provided voice\\-over describing New Askew Pluto in tremendous detail. The reason we couldn't hear them, or anything else for that matter, was because Some L.A. Teenager decided to play Drake's God's Plan as background music, but it got muted because of copyright infringement ^(4.) \n\n\nUltimately the Youtuber after training the camera on the Scientists for a while switched the view to selfie mode. His face as serious as a heart attack he takes a deep, and painfully dramatic breath, exhales and in the wake of his exhale slithers out one of the most heinous sentences in the english language... Lost \\-the\\- Game. The feed cuts to black again. While facebook went into a frenzy trying to figure out what he meant and how it related to the black out, I knew from my experience what he meant^(5). Real ones know what\\-it\\-is. Now I failed to mention this previously but I was watching this whole thing while waiting in line at the DMV so this whole experience was both an incredible, vivacious, epic, dramatic, fantastic, bombastic, once\\-in\\-a\\-lifetime experience, and also kind of boring. So you can imagine the incredible amount of anger harbored by not just I but all my fellow DMV attendees when we looked at the corner of that ominous F\\cking screen and saw the 'AD/ visit advertisers site link'. The greatest human discovery of all time, and the reason for the Two feed blackouts was none other than some NASA INTERN* forgetting to turn off ADBLOCK\" \nAnother gruff voice chimes in and says \"you know you should have mentioned where you we\\-\"\n\nA loud click signaling the end of a tape recording rings throughout a cherry\\-wood court room. \nA sea of disappointed faces is pointed in the direction of the man in shackles. He looks incredibly tired. He clears his throat. The sound of it emanates deep within chest coming from far beyond his trachea. With defiance in his eyes, and a slightly smug grin beginning to form around the corners of his mouth he states\n\n \"Needless to say, your honor, as you can clearly see I was simply a victim of circumstance. Did I burn my passport in protest of NASA's gross negligence, maybe. Did I yell fire in a crowded theater, maybe. Did I help flip that Police Car, maybe. Did I exercise my right to protest, Hell\\-fucking\\-yes. But I would not, and did not, incite that riot, I simply participated. The truth is that its the tech companies and their infrastructure, the politics that protect them, the media that indoctrinates us into our sensationalist, and spectacle addicted culture, the government institutions that both are, and might as well be prisons, or if you're a student 'Prison\\-Lite, now with twice as much Marshmallo\", the lack of sustainable energy and food, and the inequitable distribution of resources that\\-\" \n\n\nThe judge cuts him off \"This isn't a rally, this is a trial get to the point or we will adjourn\" \n\n\nThe man picks back up without missing a beat. \"My point is this, your honor, why do we need to find another planet that is bountiful. A new home. A new starting point. Why were I, and my fellow agitators so angry at a simple and excusable mistake? I'm an accountant, I have no reason to be violent. I'll tell you why, because in that moment, that beautiful unifying moment in which all of humanity became connected by achievement and perceived salvation, and it was ripped away by simple disgraceful negligence, we recognized the frailty of this system. The weakness of a society built upon artificial scarcity. We realized that our children should be learning to farm, and build, not how to remember pointless facts they can look up on their Iphone. That riot wasn't for me it wasn't for us, it was for the kids. It was because there is no reason children shouldn't feel like they have so little agency and opportunity in a future that our current socio\\-economic system is clearly ill\\-equipped to handle. We show them the terrible world so frequently, without giving them any REAL tools to repair our mistakes. Why are we letting our ego and pride decide we need to explore new options for a new home we're not homeless. Why can't we even do the search properly. The youth knows that this system is wrong and knows that we purposefully gate\\-keep the skills and tools to repair and rebuild it. We foster their dissociation and then act surprised when they evolve into social media drones, or when they consider self\\-harm, or even harming fellow students in misguided rebellion. Ultimately we're just tired, and the one moment of true unfettered beauty was ruined by an advertisement for 'The Avengers: Even Stronger guy we need to defeat how will we do it, probably teamwork.' and I love the Avengers but can't we just put all this stuff on hold, for just a second, and face the issues we have here? Like 50 years of Spring cleaning and societal repair and then we can go back to more ethical Michael Bay movies, dank memes, Walmart and fashion.\" \n\n\n\"This has gone on long enough... you admitted guilt save the soapbox for when you're out in 3 months.\" the Judge replies... \" And you know what I volunteer at almost every grassroots and activist event in this town, and I attend every school fundraiser, for example the bake sale to install the outdoor pollinator classroom and I have never, ever, not once seen you there. It's not a big town. You're allowed to invest privately into community events and projects, not every single issue and grievance you have should be blamed on tax distribution, and if you really want to know the truth the name of the movie is Avengers Infinity War 5, and sometimes people who really work hard and confront the issues of our society need an opportunity to relax, art is the only thing that makes us truly human after all.\" \n\n\n^(1)Personally I voted to name the rocket xXStarbucksHOTCOFFEEexpresswayXx and to name the planet PlanetMcPlanetFace but the memes surrounding the names didn't gain enough traction with the middle consumer, I guess This is America. \n\n\n^(2)The moon landing, this needed to be said in Spanish in case the government is listening. \n\n\n^(3)Osiris the All\\-seeing not the shoes\n\n^(4)A redditor located in Vietnam was able to transcribe what was said and post within minutes.The scientists described a rich and fruitful planet, overrun with aqueous, but fruit bearing flora and as far as they could see a huge number of flourescent, exotic, but seemingly harmless fish. The hypothesis presented claims that the angle of its axis and the speed of its rotation combined with the angle of New Askew Pluto's orbit provided the perfect conditions not just for life to exist but to support a veritable natural utopia. They estimated that the planet's water cycle was simply more efficient than ours. They also said that all the living things seemed to give off pheromones. Reddit figures that the plants and animals probably evolved to be so beautiful as a type of mating competition. The entirety of the voice over was heartfelt and punctuated by the sobs of the Scientists as they weeped, realizing that they had discovered a potential refuge and salvation for earth. They spoke of the delicious fruits and the smell of the air that reminded them of all the best parts of earth; Grandma's Cookies, Fresh Laundry, Rain. It was practically poetry the way the Scientists spoke. It became the second most upvoted post on r/mildlyinteresting of the day, losing only to a 60 second gif from the printer\\-ink episode of How It's Made, primarily due to the fact that the footage wasn't mobile\\-friendly. God's Plan." ]	1
	[WP] You always knew you would restart your life 10 times, and you remember each past life. You're on your 10th and final life. What's your story?	[ "One day I was cleaning dishes while my ungrateful husband was watching television, all of a sudden two agents wearing black suits took us away to a laboratory, they needed our DNA to clone our child, as you see our son was special, and not in a daddy's special son kind of way, he has powers unlike any other human, the ability to control time, and also a natural knack for learning new moves to beat his enemies in different ways, they attached my husband to a machine which would cut off his head, though before they could do anything else, gorillas broke free and brutally murdered the two men, my legs were broken and my arm was barely hanging on, then our son appeared, he needed to gain access to the stairs but a console locked him out, it needed DNA to open the locks to the stairs and that meant that one of us had to die so he could proceed, I tried so very hard to tempt him into turning on the machine so his father's head would let him proceed as if it wasn't obvious that I had marital problems with his father, but being closer to his father he decided to take my arm instead, I screamed in pain and begged him to stop, but he kept tugging on my arm until it came off, I began to black out and after that I felt nothing, I was dead." ]	1
	[WP] The reverse reality show: Various billionaires compete and those who are eliminated are stripped of all money they have.	[ "The final contestant looked down at the revolver on the table. 6 cylinders, 6 contestants, 5 bodies slumped over in chairs with thier wrists tied, and what was likely 1 bullet left in the final chamber. A member of the red gaurd picked up the revolver, inspecting it before pointing it at the remaining contestant. Without a word, he pulled the trigger and emptied the final round into the lasy contestants head. \"Looks like the people won, eh comrade?\"", "\"Get your fucking hands off me! Do you know who I am?! I'm worth more than everyone in this shit hole studio put together!\" The man wailed as security dragged him out by his collar. \n\n\"Not anymore, chump.\" The guard callously as he shoved him out of the double doors and into the blinding light of the day. \n\nMartin stood frozen with a tray of coffee in his hands; his first day in the studio, and the first person he'd seen lose it all. Well, he'd seen it happen plenty of times, but never up close and personal like this. He'd never watched someone go from rejecting three straight cups of coffee because they weren't perfectly at 75.6 degrees Celsius, and being worth so much that the fourth was served at exactly the requested temp, to being thrown right out on his ass by a dude who makes less than 50k a year. He almost felt pity for the former billionaire. \n\n\"Coffee! Where the fuck is my coffee!?\" A shrill voice rang out from the competitor's lounge; Martin tore himself from his thoughts and made his way over.\n\nNine sharply dressed people sat about various comfortable looking sofas, most looking fairly pleased by the results of the first round. A slender woman in a lustrous silver dress violently waved Martin over, it became apparent that her voice had beckoned for him just before.\n\nMartin quickly approached her, doing his best not to spill. \"Well, welcome to fucking work, taking a nap were we?\" He carefully handed her cup to her, which she somehow snatched out of his hand without spilling a drop; Martin assumed she was well versed in snatching things from people's hands. \n\n\"Apologies, Ma'am!\" He continued moving around the lounge, handing cups to the snooty competitors who offered nothing but snarls and insults in return. His tray emptied before he reached the last competitor, who sat with his eyes closed. Martin feared he was napping and didn't want to disturb him; however, he also feared being berated for potentially missing his order. He cleared his throat and spoke just above a whisper.\n\n\"Excuse me, Sir, hello?\"\n\nThe man's eyes opened slowly, meeting Martin's gaze. \"Yes?\" His voice was calm and quiet.\n\n\"I just.. uh.. Did you need anything? Coffee, tea, anything?\" Martin's voice cracked a bit at the end.\n\nThe man's lips widened into a friendly smile. \"No, I'm fine..\" His eyes squinted as he leaned forward a bit, inspecting Martin's name-tag. \"Martin. No. Thank you, Martin.\"\n\nThe man's courteous nature caught Martin off guard, and he stood perplexed for a few moments before he was beckoned by one of the other, not so polite contestants.\n\nThe next round initiated. Each round consisted of ten questions; each competitor would answer the same ten questions as each other on a tablet in front of them, and when the time ran dry the scores would be projected onto the board above. It was simple: The person with the lowest score each round would be eliminated, and those tied for last place would be given additional questions until only one person failed to answer correctly. The questions could be anything; from ancient history to trigonometry, and only two minutes was allowed for each question.\n\nThe contestants had to be smart, very smart, and most trained for years before applying to compete on the show. There was good reason for the lengthy preparation, and good reason to compete. Each competitor waged their entire fortune when they chose to compete, a minimum worth of one billion dollars was required to be considered, and those who were eliminated lost everything. So, why would any wealthy individual risk it all? Simple, because this show is winner-takes-all. When one person was eliminated the entirety of their opulence was thrown into the pot, waiting to be claimed by the last man standing. \n\n'It's just never enough...' Martin thought to himself as he watched the round conclude and another howling loser get dragged out of the building. 'If I had all that money I'd never risk it all for a 1/10 chance at getting even richer... They're sick...'\n\nThe game continued. Each round another fortune fell into the pot; each break another chorus of insults as he delivered beverages, and each time ending with the polite gentlemen calmly stating. \"No, thank you, Martin.\"\n\nMartin recognized the other competitors, they were all big players on the world stage, and one was the champion of last season, but he'd never seen or heard of the polite man before. He'd missed his introduction as he'd been grabbing the first round of coffee, but he'd been watching him these last few rounds and he hadn't seen him miss a single question. \n\nThe final round came, and the polite man faced off against the reigning champ. They both answered the initial ten questions correctly, as was to be expected, and they went into sudden death. Five more questions answered; ten more; twenty more; it seemed like it would never end, until finally the former champ slipped up and missed a question regarding astrophysics.\n\nThe stage lit up, and the image of the polite man's face was projected onto the large scoreboard and TVs all over the world, his demeanor as calm as ever. The former champ stood up calmly and began stepping off stage, not requiring the aid of security. The announcer's voice filled the studio.\n\n\"*Congratulations! Please, Champion, won't you tell the folks at home what you plan to do with your winnings!?\"\n\nThe polite man stood and cleared his throat. \"Thank you. Yes, the entirety of my winnings will be allocated to various charitable organizations across the globe.\"\n\nA silence fell over the studio, and it was a few moments before the announcer inquired again.\n\n\"Uh, surely you have misspoken. Did you mean to say that a portion of your winnings will be donated to charity? How generous!\"\n\n\"No, all* of the winnings will be donated, and I will return next season to defend my title, take the wealth of nine more greedy individuals, and distribute it all to just causes.\"\n\nThe former champion let out an arrogant laugh before kicking the double doors open, and then absolute silence fell over the room. The stillness was broken by someone dropping a metal tray somewhere in the back, and was followed by the excited clapping of free hands. \n\nr/BeagleTales\n\n", "Second Chance\n\nSecond Chance is a reality game show on FOX. It features billionaires from all over the world competing against one another for the ability to have a younger new body. Each episode would have a competitive challenge in order for the billionaires to gain immunity from elimination. Billionaires who’ve been eliminated in the game lose their money which is donated to the body donor and their family. Second Chance is hosted by the person donating their body for the upcoming season. The series premiered on September 16, 2023 and originally was only going to be one season due to the premise of the show. Due to the popularity of the show by potential donors and billionaires, Fox was able to renew it for 5 more seasons. The series is currently on its 3rd Season. \n\nFormat\n\nContestants need to be Billionaires who buy into the competition sacrificing 99% of their net worth. The Donor for the season needs to complete medical and psychological screenings before being unanimously chosen by the current season of competitors. Typically the Donor is a young person who is athletically fit.\n\nSecond Chance is presented as a vote based elimination competition between billionaires. Season One featured 4 billionaires whereas future seasons have featured 8. Each week the billionaires compete in a Humanity challenge decided by the Donor with the theme of giving back to humanity. A billionaire with the Soul of Humanity after winning a humanity challenge may not be voted for elimination by the viewers. \n\nThe vote based elimination format proceeds until there is only two left, in which the season finale will consist of each billionaire given thirty minutes of screen time to plead their case with the viewer. Afterwards the voting for the season finale is opened up to the fans in which they have 30 minutes to cast their vote on their favourite. During the voting period in the season finale, the Host of the season will continue to ask questions to the billionaires about their intentions for this Second Chance. \n\nA follow up episode with the season’s winner and donor typically airs 6 months after the finale when the body switch operation is completed. \n\nProduction & Development\n\nFox began the development of Second Chance soon after Doctors Brown and Carlyle came to them for the premise. Fox worked with the US Government on lifting operation sanctions in order to get the first season to air promising newly reformed and social conscious billionaires as a result of this show. Bill C-38 was amended to include a clause that body swapping is legal if Doctors Brown or Carlyle perform it for the purpose of the television show. This is the first time in history such an exception was made for a corporation. \n\nNot knowing how Season 1 would turn out, only 4 Billionaires were selected for the competition. Due to the popularity of the premise of the show and volunteers fulfilling both Contestants and Donor, it’s been renewed for multiple seasons with increased count of contestants. \n\nSeasons\n\nSeason 1: Featured four billionaires, Tech Start up guru Tyler Hall, former United States President Mr. Clayton Gallant, sport athlete prodigy Conor Fieldweather, and stock broker Michael Flint. The Donor was Timothy Irons who received 8.3 Billion dollars for being the prize that season. Season Winner: Conor Fieldweather. \n\nConor Fieldweather attempted to get back into boxing, but the sport commission denied his application due to the enhancement surgery that is body switching. \n\nSeason 2: Season 2 featured 8 billionaires. CEO of Wong Industries - Mr. Yu, game developer - Laurel Gates, musician - Brad, actor Tom Wyatt, stock brokers Alix Schminky & Tate Steinsiek, CEO of Apple-Microsoft KC Serpico, religious leader George Talbot IV, and lottery winner Derek Tyler. Donor was Christopher Wooley who received 32.2 Billion dollars for being the prize that season. Season Winner: Derek Tyler. \n\nDerek Tyler won the finale by a landslide relating to the viewers at home about winning his fortune by luck. Earlier in the season he also dropped the bombshell he is dying from cancer which is why he wanted to enter the competition. \n\nChristopher Wooley is still alive and is suspected to pass away in the next few years due to cancer.\n\nSeason 3: Season 3 will feature 8 billionaires once again. One confirmed participant is Christopher Wooley, who has announced he will be one of the contestants this year risking his 32.2 billion dollars he recieved for being a donor. \n\nControversy & Criticism \n\nThe show has sparked controversy within the scientific community. While the science behind body switching is still new, medical researchers are crying foul about Dr. Brown and Carlyle staying silent on the methodology of the procedure. A lawsuit was brought up against Fox, Brown, and Carlyle to share the secrets behind the procedure, but was thrown out by a judge. \n\nMany billionaires seeing the opportunity to re-do or relive their life have attempted to get the operation done themselves by going to black market Doctors and Donors, while there isn’t a correct figure of how many operations have been performed, the United States government has commented they find 4-5 dead bodies a year due to this surgery. \n\nGeorge Talbot IV is the first religious leader to participate in the competition. While the church did not comment on how George has obtained his wealth, it’s believed it’s through the organization. This is a surprise considering the amount of backlash the show has been given by the church and their community. \n\nConor Fieldweather who won the first season has been met with harsh criticisms on how he is acting since receiving his new body. Instead of doing teaching soldiers and police members how to fight, he’s been partying which is something he explicitly said he wouldn’t do. \n\nVoting: The idea of viewers voting is a heated conversation inside the studio and Production Company due to it being a popularity vote as Season 2 winner Derek Tyler has proven it. There is talks about appointing judges for Season 3 consisting of Noble Peace Prize Winners and global leaders around the world in respected fields in order to pick the best candidate for the second chance. \n\n" ]	3
	[WP] It's day 4 of someone's anger management therapy: Working customer service as exposure therapy and to test anger management techniques	[ "Server:okay so just walk up introduce yourself and ask what they’d like to drink.\n\nAngry person: hi my na-\n\nGuest: unsweetened tea!\n\nAP: stares um ok\n\nAngry person drops tea off at table \n\nGuest:snapping um excuse me I said I wanted sweet tea and you brought be unsweetened tea!! \n\nAP:flips table" ]	1
	[WP] Give me a real recipe in the format of a creative short story	[ "\"Sir Adri and Lady Wynter request to see you urgently, madam,\" the servant said, bowing low at the doorway. \"Shall I let them in?\"\n\nThe Oracle nodded solemnly. The servant stepped aside, bowed her head again, and gestured them to two seats in front of the brightly dressed woman. On the table between them sat a notebook, several stones, and a gold chest. Lady Bakewell eyed them with apprehension etched on her face.\n\nSir Adri cleared his throat. \"Grand Oracle, we apologize for our sudden intrusion. We hope that in our haste we have not disturbed you,\" he said, shooting a glance at Lady Bakewell, who had paled several shades since entering.\n\n\"Mmm,\" the Oracle said, flipping through her deck absently. \"And who are you that you require such urgency?\"\n\n\"This is Lady Emeline Bakewell of the Bakewells of Hamil,\" he said with a nod to her. \"And I am Sir Thomas Adri. Some men call me Sir Adri the Invincible.\"\n\n\"I have often heard you referred to as Sir Adri the Doxy,\" she said with a smirk.\n\nLady Bakewell snapped her head in his direction, her eyes wide. Sir Adri flinched and blushed a bright red. \"Those are... a different crowd of men that call me that.\"\n\nThe Oracle nodded, the smirk still etched on her face. She lifted her arms to adjust her bracelets. \"And the threat against your husband and father is what brings you here, I assume?\" she asked nonchalantly.\n\nIf possible, Lady Bakewell became even paler. \"How do you know about that?\"\n\n\"A prophecy addresses the answers you seek, Lady Bakewell,\" the Oracle said, ignoring the question.\n\n\"Is it that grand of a scheme?\" Sir Adri asked, breathless.\n\n\"Prophecies are often incredibly mundane, sir,\" she said. \"I once foretold of a fence being overrun by cattle.\"\n\n\"An important fence?\" Sir Adri asked.\n\n\"Only a fence,\" the Oracle said, crestfallen. \"No one was actually harmed, not even the cattle.\"\n\n\"And this is such a mundane prophecy as well?\" Lady Bakewell asked, seeking reassurance.\n\n\"Nope,\" the Oracle said. \"This is a serious, grave prophecy, that only I have foretold. I will require many sacrifices from you both if we are to thwart the evil at hand.\"\n\nSir Adri and Lady Bakewell shared a grave glance. \"We will do what is necessary,\" Lady Bakewell said. \"Please, tell us this prophecy.\"\n\nThe Oracle shuffled her deck and began laying cards before them, eight in total. She touched each of them delicately, her bony, frail fingers tracing the lines on the pictures.\n\n\"The Betrayer is two fold, and shiftless, like the wheat of the field,\" the Oracle said. \"Even when ground to a powder, one would likely only catch enough to hold two cups.\"\n\nSir Adri looked at the card, which seemed to depict a skeletal figure swinging a broad sword into a flaming wizard. \"What does that mean?\"\n\n\"Shush,\" Lady Bakewell said, her eyes alight with understanding. \"Go on, Grand Oracle.\"\n\nThe Oracle bowed her head. She touched the second card, which depicted a black, shadowy creature breaking a crystal ball. Her eyes glazed over. \"The Betrayer is slippery, able to escape your grasp. To wrangle them will be as difficult as snatching two sticks of butter from the air.\"\n\nSir Adri gave Lady Bakewell a sideways glance, but she seemed not to notice or care about the strange choice of words. He chose to remain silent.\n\nThe Oracle continued. \"Their demeanor is sweet, but lessened by the thick, viscous, molasses like nature of his spirit. If his essence were drained, it would amass only a cup.\"\n\n\"Is this not a oxen braying in front of children?\" Sir Adri asked, picking the card up from the table and looking at it. \"How is that at all related to sweetness or essences?\"\n\n\"Are you a reader of the cards?\" the Oracle shouted. \"No, you a merely a promisc—\"\n\n\"No need to dive back into it,\" Sir Adri interrupted. \"Carry on.\"\n\nThe Oracle nodded towards him, smirking with arrogance. \"Their plan will rise as if leavened by a mere half a spoon of agent.\"\n\n\"So...\" Sir Adri started, \"Slowly?\"\n\nThe Oracle nodded again.\n\n\"Right,\" Lady Bakewell said. \"She is right! The letter arrived several new moons ago and they have not struck!\"\n\n\"And you have waited this long to see me?\" the Oracle said. \"I have been most ravenous... to tell you of this truth.\"\n\n\"Odd choice of words,\" Sir Adri mumbled.\n\n\"His plans will hatch, two fold, like the egg of the chicken,\" the Oracle said.\n\n\"So the Betrayer is a man?\" Lady Bakewell interrupted.\n\nThe Oracle paused for a moment that stretched into eternity. \"Their plans will hatch, two fold, like the egg of the chicken.\"\n\n\"This card doesn't have a chicken upon it?\" Sir Adri asked, though both of them had taken to ignoring him.\n\n\"The Betrayer's scorn will be like two teaspoons of salt in the wound,\" the Oracle said. \"And the grave injury will bring him as much sweetness as a splash of vanilla upon the tongue.\"\n\n\"I think I'm catching on to something here,\" Sir Adri mumbled to himself again.\n\n\"And blood will pour from that wound, cascading down like morsels, bittersweet, a cup at a time, until it seems full,\" the Oracle finished.\n\n\"What seems full?\" Sir Adri asked. \"Morsels? Why so many references to cups? These metaphors are very specific to measurements, but provide no clues on who the Betrayer might be.\"\n\n\"Similes,\" the Oracle mumbled, then she looked at Lady Bakewell seriously. \"Chunks might also suffice.\"\n\n\"I feel as if you are trying to tell us something else,\" Sir Adri said.\n\n\"She is trying to tell us of the Betrayer and his plans!\" Lady Bakewell erupted. \"Please stop your quibbling!\"\n\n\"Let us not so hastily ignore the Knight's words,\" the Oracle said. \"He may know of the words I am dishing upon you, uniformly in nature and large in quantity.\"\n\nThe room filled with silence. \n\n\"Do you just want cookies?\" Sir Adri asked in exasperation.\n\n-----\n\nIf you enjoyed this bizarre story about a hungry oracle, perhaps you would like a story almost nothing like it about a corrupt politician running an election against an unearthed eldritch god.\n\nMy satirical dystopian novella, An Honest Policy, is free on Amazon until tonight at 11:59 PM (PT). Check out my subreddit if you're interested!" ]	1
	[WP] You're a normal unassuming guy going through life, you wake up the day after your 18th and you're married with 3 kids and are 57 years old, the next day you're 34... you soon realize the rest of your days are not in the order they should be...	[ "Now, when did I see this Rachel before? I think, kissing Rachel as we go to sleep. I think we’re married, but things like that can be hard to tell—it’s not exactly something you ask someone. Maybe tomorrow I’ll see her again, or maybe tomorrow I’ll wake up next to that Annie girl who seems important more towards my earlier years. Certainly though, I need to remember her so that things go better than they did today.\n\nSome days are just an awkward bumble, when I first find myself in a new year, with little context of who I should know or how I should behave. It’s honestly astonishing that I even think I might be married given my circumstances.\n\n“24 days” I whisper to myself. I find I remember things better when I say them aloud. “24 days past 18, and here I am, in my late 40’s”\n\nI try to see my life as a puzzle, piecing my own timeline together as I warp around, but when I can’t write anything down to take with me on my journey, it becomes hard to remember. I tried starting a journal when I woke up in my early 20’s, but I guess I’m not that diligent, because, while I do leave myself little notes sometimes, I couldn’t even find the book when I woke up in my late 20’s on another day. I may try again next time I go back, but the thing is, I think my life has already been lived. I don’t think I can really change things like that. I don’t have a journal, and that’s that. I think I have two wives in my life, and I can’t try to be better to the first one to prevent any sort of divorce. It simply is as it is.\n\nI close my eyes and fall asleep to the sound of Rachel breathing.\n\nI wake up to the sound of sirens and the smell of smoke.\n\nPanicked, I jump up, slamming my head into the bunk above me. Shaking myself, and not seeing a mirror, I hold out my arms. No wrinkles, so I must be younger, I need to see my face to get a better ballpark than that, but my best guess puts me at my mid 30’s.\n\nThis room isn’t one I’ve been in before, it’s a small room, and I have a bunk bed for some reason. Do I have a room-mate? I certainly am not married at this point, unless I’m on a trip somewhere. Looking around the room though, it seems like I live here. So I guess things finished up with that Annie girl at this point. I wonder…right, my building is on fire, but I actually don’t really need to worry, do I? I know that I make it out of this without any lasting impact, so I can just sit and be content with the outcome.\n\nSo I sit for a while, until I decide that the smoke is uncomfortable, then I walk over to the window and try to open it up. Looking out, I see that a fire truck has raised a ladder to help people down. I patiently wait for the ladder. I see a kid at the window next to mine, he looks panicked, so I give him a pleasant smile, which seems to calm him down a bit.\n\nLooking around, I think I’m in a smaller town. My building looks to be the tallest around and only about 5 stories tall.\n\nI wonder what my business is here? I know I’ve been a salesperson before, am I still? Losing all my things will hurt whatever it is, since any little notes I might have left for myself will be gone.\n\nThe ladder reaches me and a firewoman helps me out and down the ladder, “You have an awfully calm demeanor for the situation you’re in, sir”\n\nHmm, yes, I suppose the fire is really tearing into this building. I figure that the fire would have reached my room after another 5 minutes or so. I shrug, “Well, I figured things would be okay. I like to have a confidence about life”\n\n“Haha, well keep that with you, I respect a man with that kindof attitude”\n\nAs we walk down the ladder, I suddenly realize. I recognize that voice. This is Rachel.\n\nTurning, I try to say something more to her, but she is back up the ladder to the next window. I figure its best to leave her to it and continue down the ladder.\n\nI just slept with her last night and she’s never seen me before, but looking at her save the people in this building, I realize that I do respect her.\n\nAnd I’m really glad that she plays a role in the future of my life.\n" ]	1
	[WP] After all the years of trying, Plankton has finally got his hands on the Krabby Patty formula, and he discovers a horrific secret about the restaurant	[ "Plankton had the idea of just kidnapping a customer that had eaten the Kraby Patty as they left the Krusty Krab. Plankton brought the gentlefish into his restaurant, and removed the patty from his stomach. The fish as outraged, but plankton sent him out the door with a handful of gift cards.\n\nPlankton is beside himself. He had gotten the formula after a decade of failed attempts. All of his hardwork has been for nothing untill this day, he has succeed. He decides to throw a party for the two of them to celebrate.\n\nAfter sometime, night rolls around. Acomadations where prepared for the formula revel. Plankton has his popcorn, and soda and is gleeming with excitement. Karin has a party hat on her monitor. Plankton carfully puts the patty meat into the identification matchine. Karin runs the data on screen. \n\nKarin states that the patty consists of 50% plankton, and 50% crab. Kairn, and Plankton are in disbelief at this. This whole time, the formula was canabalisam of not only of himself, but Mr.Krabs. Plankton vomits in discust untill there was nothing left within him. He continued to dry heave uncontrollably for 10 minutes.\n\nPlankton had never expected this, and could not fully come to terms with reality as his head spins. His world had turned upside down. Karin says \" That monster, how could he?! He must be stopped Plankton.\" Plankton feeling very ill nodes weakly, but stats he is unable to function or think quite right.\n\nHe takes his sleeping medication so that he can quickly pass out. Plankton just wants to sleep, that being his only out. After 15 minutes of quite weeping in bed, the pills take effect, and plankton is asleep. He will have night terrors as he always does, but tonight's and perhaps from now on will be miserable nights. Tommarrow Plankton will regroup with Karin.\n\n\n\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] After wishing for "eternal youth," you're really regretting not specifying what age	[ "\"Gods above and below, i love you foolish little mortals.\" I giggled, caressing the now ancient man's cheek. His cheeks are nearly as white as my gloves, his eyes frantically searching to figure out why he felt so suddenly weak. \"Always wishing to live forever. \"Never age again!\" you say. \"I wish to stay the same age forever!\" You exclaim whole-heartedly.\"\n\nI bend over and place a gentle kiss on his wrinkled lips. Even now, i can see the spell i cast on the once-strapping warrior sinking into permanence. \"What you sword-swingers always forget is the details. What age do you wish to be when you become immortal? What age when the aging process stops? Oh, don't look so sad. You won't remember this blunder anyway.\"\n\nOne finger to my lips in mock amazement. \"Did you not know this? You merely asked for \"eternal youth\". And youth, you see, is very much a relative term. To the Mountain, your entire species is still in its infancy. So that is what i made you. You shall remain in the flower of youth. A mountains youth for a mountain of a man.\"\n\nI shake my head sadly, caressing the once-strong muscles. \"All that time training your body, and you do not truly understand how it works. See, the human body is not meant to last forever. It wears down, breaks down. Both the body, and the mind. And at your age, it just can't repair itself that well. But you will live forever, you see. I uphold my bargains.\"\n\nI turn on the ruined waste of skin and bones, his eyes already beginning to glaze over in confusion as his memory fled him.\n\n\"The stories did try to warn you, my precious pet.\" I call out over my shoulder. \"I am in the details.\"" ]	1
*under one	[WP] The entire Earth has United one one, true democracy. There are no political officials, and every issue is voted on by the entire population. This all works flawlessly until aliens descend on the planet and demand to be taken to our leader.	[ "The sound of a phone shrills for attention. You reach for it without fully reaching consciousness, mentally cursing whatever timezone forces you to again go without a full night of sleep. \"Yeah?\" It's far too late or too early to be polite. \n\n\"Sikas here. From the Antarctic Telescopes. Not sure how to say it, but we need your help.\" The voice sounds in too much genuine fear for this to be a prank call. \n\nYou sigh: \"What does the astronomy society of Antarctica need the spokesperson of the commission for global referenda for?\" Your voice sounds pretty annoyed, even though you tried to hold it back. \n\nA short pause. \"We have received interstellar communication. And they want to talk to our leader.\"\n\nNow you are awake. \"Aliens‽ Leader of humanity‽ What the… ‽\"\n\n\"Yeah, seriously. I send you the information we have!\"\n\n\"Grand! Talk to you later.\"\n\nYou looked into the transferred data and make a few calls. \n\nIt took several months to determine the role of a leader and elect a representative, more of a minister of the exterior than an actual leader. and another month for her to be elected. \n\nYou listen anxiously as she contacts the aliens: \"First Citizen Yvette Wagenknecht speaking. Iam delighted to contact you.\"\n\nThere was no response. \n\nMeanwhile, on another planet, which the inhabitants call their home, an astronomer contacts the military command: \"Plan Division and Conquest failed. Humanity has elected a representative peacefully.\"", "Democratic anarchy is all fun and games until an alien invasion fleet shows up and demands that someone\\-\\-anyone\\-\\-take responsibility. They started broadcasting what humanity's best linguists and computer scientists decided was more or less \"take me to you leader\" when they began their deceleration burn just outside Neptune's orbit. They'd been falling sunward for the last ten months, their drive flare slowly but surely becoming the second brightest object in the sky, and now that they were in orbit, and it was time for humanity to present its leader to the horde.\n\nHis name was Robert Paulson. \n\nHumanity held its breath, and hoped they liked sweaty hugs." ]	2
	[WP] You find yourself in Hell to a demon dressed in white with a clipboard, who tells you Hell is more like a rehab center than a place of torture.	[ "\"So.....I'm dead? Gone, like, forever\"\n\nIt was inconceivable to Violet. The most in\\-depth she had thought about death was when her pet hamster died when she was six. It was always so foreign, so alien. She never liked death, she always tried to skip it in the movies. But, actually dying, it had never crossed her mind. As the numbness subsided, she was left with panic.\n\n\"W\\-where am I!\"\n\nThe creature, whose disgusting toad\\-like features very much clashed with his business casual attire, gave her a knowing smirk that even in her state was infuriating. Before speaking in an uncaring airy tone.\n\n\"Isn't it obvious dear? Hell.\"\n\nShe was never religious, but she knew what hell was. Her initial reaction was numbness. Hell, like, Christian Hell? With demons and lava? Eternal suffering? Like, forever? She\\-she was going to be in pain forever, all for nothing. At this, she sat down and bawled, shoulders heaving with the weight of her fate, and anger at the perceived injustice of her sentencing. What had she done to deserve eternal torment? Why her of all people? Hadn't Richard already caused her enough pain?\n\n\"You see, that's rather high on the list.\"\n\nAs her bloodshot eyes turned to the demon grinning at her misery, he tapped on his clipboard triumphantly.\n\n\"Your list of sins. Yeah, turns out your treatment of dearest Richy wasn't exactly in line with our standards. Cheating, abuse, neglect, leeching, and many many more. Oh, and who can forget sending him to prison on false charges.\"\n\nHe said this with a smugness that infuriated her more than the actual listing of her mis\\-deeds did.\n\n\"SHUT UP! You don't know anything about me! What I went through!\"\n\n\"On the contrary, I know everything, I know how he cared for you, what he sacrificed for you, and I also know how you always pirated songs. I mean really, half of them were free!\"\n\nHe caught on to her confused look, before explaining.\n\n\"I'm specifically assigned to target your weaknesses. Why do ya think you're getting so riled up?\"\n\nSomewhere in her addled mind, she did notice this. In spite of everything, it was something specific about his voice that just drove her mad.\n\n\"I gotta say, I was a servant of Lust, and even you seem to be taking it a bit far. Ah well, come on.\"\n\nHe grasped her forearm, slimy grey\\-red fingers making her skin crawl as he dragged her along.\n\n\"Time for treatment.\"\n\nShe swallowed, still unable to comprehend the reality of her situation.\n\n\"T\\-treatment?\"\n\n\"Yeah, treatment. What, you think we can afford to board every damned soul? Nah, ran out of room about a couple centuries ago. Besides, Big G can't stand suffering, so the more of you nutcases we get out of here. Let's go.\"\n\nAs she disappeared into the building, her last thought was noticing an astute lack of fire and brimstone, instead with flower vases and encouraging puppy posters." ]	1
	[WP] It's the 80s, and moral crusaders and alarmists on TV are warning parents that Dungeons & Dragons is all about the devil worship. Fed up with being associated with nerds, the devil himself is giving a press conference to get them to stop defaming his character.	[ "Working for the Devil was dangerous at the best of times, but after mortals started connecting him to fat sweaty nerds sitting in the basement playing make believe. Even his most favored servants were one small mistake from eternal damnation. Poor Greg was just walking past The Devil when he suddenly became the Devils outlet of anger. A pang of sadness hit me when I saw Greg or what was left of his charred corpse. Been by the devils side since the fall. I looked as a couple of imps dragged the charred corpse aw- ENOUGH! Everything seemed to whimper at the Devils rage even Greg. He continued: I’ll show those puny mortals with the manliest thing know to mankind a PRESS CONFERENCE.\n\n \n \n \n\n\n\nPlease be gentle.", "\"Okay you, here's the deal...\"\n\nThe devil himself was sitting across the table from me as I was setting up the DnD game. I was the dungeon master, and the players had not arrived yet. We always held a silly pre game press conference as a joke, but nobody had arrived yet and my prop microphone was sitting in the middle of the table. I could do nothing but listen as the hideous beast continued his speech: \n\n\"I'm a bad motherfucker, you get me kid? I burn villages, I torture souls, the whole shebang. The last thing I need is for people to be associating me with a bunch of pimply beta males, you got me?\"\n\nComing to my senses, I asked a question: \"Why are you talking to me about it? Can't you just incinerate us or something instead of coming all the way here to ask so nicely?\"\n\n\"It's not so easy kid. There's rules. I need you to agree willingly to stop involving me in your stupid game. I'm tired and I've got a lot to do, so let's get this done with.\"\n\nI had an idea. I said, \"Come back tomorrow Devil, and we'll hash this out when you've got more energy.\"\n\n\"Aw thanks kid. See? You're too nice for this devil worship stuff anyway. I'll be back tomorrow. \"\n\nThe next day he came back, looking beastly and inhuman while also carrying a very elegant lawyer's briefcase. \n\n\"Alright kid, I got some stuff for you to sign. I'm really busy, let's just get this over with. \"\n\nI read the contract he handed me. It was barely legible. It was time to hatch my own plan: \n\n\"Devil, this will never hold up in human court! Don't you want this to be binding?\"\n\n\"Well, I guess. You got a better idea?\"\n\n\"I sure do!\" I handed him a dense contract written in the finest print. \n\n\"Kid, I can't even read this.\"\n\n\"Oh it's okay, you don't need to understand it. If you just put a checkmark in the box below I'll never associate with you again.\"\n\nThe Devil scanned the contract but it seemed to be mostly gibberish. He just wanted this kid to get out of his hair, so what's the harm? He checked the box.\n\n\"See ya Kid. Keep me out of your dumb games from now on!\"\n\nThe kid would go on to be a leading figure in the tech industry, known forever as the father of the EULA. The devil would be forced to endorse several more editions of Dungeons and Dragons. ", "You humans are afraid of games? What in the world has gotten into you? I foster people to commit the foulest deeds that you in your puny little imaginations could not even fathom. Look at my work in Africa. Look at Lebanon. Look at the children living in misery because of incompetent and self-serving leaders. Look at the people who are dying wasting deaths. But you've come to this meeting to squawk about games? You think these puny little man-children go around carving up innocent children because they spray paint some weird looking symbols in remote places? Holy hell, humans, get your priorities in order.", "Good morning Puny human reporters and people of the Press. I will admit, I have not been on earth in some time but its nice to see you are all still as primitive as always. \n\n\nSo...lets get down to business. I would like to address the elephant in the room. Yes I am the Devil. If the horns were not a dead giveaway...which means, yes, God exists. So, Mr. Smith in the back...all that adultery, and perverse thoughts about your step daughter....Keep it up. We will see each other again real soon.\nBut your immortal souls is not why I am here today. Its not the end of days, or the apocalypse, or whatever you mortals wanna call it. I wanna make that clear. So, those of you praying for forgiveness in California...stop that right now. I can hear those too...\nSo with that little information out of the way...I wanna discuss some things with you. In particular your preachers desire to associate my name with a table top role playing game. \n\nI wish to express my utter contempt for such claims, as I have in no way claimed any souls of a person for playing a board game. Unless they murdered someone as a result of a board game, but that is completely different. Thats more due to the murder aspect of it. Point is...GAMES THAT ARE NOT MURDER DO NOT RESULT IN YOU GOING TO HELL. Goth kids or wanna be witchs try to sacrifice a goat to summon a demon and you guys give them a stern talking to and think that will make them fine, but heaven forbid someone play dungeons and dragons! DO YOU HEAR YOURSELVES AT TIMES? \nDo you understand how stupid you all come across by doing this? You know what else doesnt drag you to hell? Fortune telling, magic, or anything associated with not making a deal with me! Your race is responsible for murder time and time again, and you think a fantasy world will make them evil? HAVE YOU READ THE BIBLE? Or better yet the news? You all are already evil, and playing a damn game wont change that.\n\nNow, with that cleared up...I am going back to hell. I hope to see you all there soon.", "\"Ladies and Gentlemen of the press, my client Satan would like to thank you for coming today, we know that coming to hell is a processes. But we find it's easier than the TSA.\"\n\nThe crowd chuckles.\n\n\"You may recognize me, my name is Jim Jones. Yes, that Jim Jones. No, I will not be answering questions about that. Please hold all questions until the end, and with that please welcome Satan.\"\n\nSatan slowly walks to the podium. A tall thin man, slicked back black hair, and red eyes. He rests his arms on the podium as he speaks\n\n\"As My representative Mr. Jones said I want to thank you for accommodating us. It's harder for us to get up to the surface, that I can promise you. I want to address this game, Dungeons and Dragons. Read my lips, I have nothing to do with this game. It's not by me. I will be the first to admit I have my hand in certain things. Hollywood? Absolutely. Christian cults? You bet. Heavy metal? Some of it. Some of those guys are posers. But Ozzy? While he isn't mine, I love him like a son. But a nerdy, role play game? Na.. Not my style. Leave the nerds alone. They have done nothing wrong. And trust me when I say this, those nerds? They are going to run the world in the future. That being said I will open this up to questions.\"", "What the fuck is a nerd?\nThat’s who they think I’m corrupting. The people who couldn’t take a bra off if their life depended on it. And I have the souls to prove that. Wholy shit. \nWhy would I care? They are nothing. But your megapreachers were something. Those televangelists. Didn’t take much to get them. A huge house with an ocean view. Millions of followers. They were mine. And I’m getting a lot of ROI. \n They think the problem is nerds, Wow. Well, I am what I am. Now the problem is nerds. Roll with it. School shootings. Hate on the internet. Well, I mean if you think the devil is in nerds than I might as well be. \nI’m Satan and they are mine. \n\nAnd I was worried about this press conference. \n“I don’t look too ashy do I? Let’s do this.” \n\n\n\n", "“Members of the press, I'd like to thank all of you for meeting me here today. I'll keep the introduction short- I'm The Devil, the real one. \n\nAhem. \n\nRecently, my name has been thrown in with a trend involving teens, the playing of a tabletop game known as Dungeons and Dragons. Now, I know what you're all thinking; the name sounds dark, what kind of tabletop game doesn't use a board, the devil is behind all things wrong in the world, etc. \n\nI'm here to dispel this notion plainly ; I am not, nor have I ever been, nor will I ever be involved with Dungeons and Dragons. \n\nD&D, as I'll refer to it henceforth, is about the safest, least satanic thing a group of kids could ever involve themselves in. It's Tolkien with math and dice, you guys. That's it. \n\nAre there some demons and other apparitions in it? Yes. But that doesn't make it satanic. It's all so… lame. \n\nFolks, I am all about wickedness! Greed! Destruction! Fire! Ruin! Driving cars at unsafe speeds! Orgies! \n\nIf your kids were planning on becoming stockbrokers, bankers, CEOs, hedge fund managers, etc. then yes, I am so for that. Throw my name around all you want in that case! You'll see what I mean when the 80’s really get into full swing, here in just a bit. You're all gonna hear about cocaine again real soon. \n\nAnyway, stop thinking it's my fault when your dorky kids sit around in the basement with mountain dew and funny dice, rambling about +2 swords of slaying or whatever. Trust me, they'll remain pure, untouched virgins for the entirety of their high-school careers.\n\nCheers!\n\nSatan out! \n\npoof”\n", "The White House Press Secretary, Samuel Birch, smiled congenially and scanned the room as hands shot into the air. He was the newest addition to the White House staff and had only served in his post for six months, but was well\\-liked among the press corps. He had an easy smile and an engaging style, and despite obvious differences in political outlook he spoke to the correspondents with the utmost professionalism and respect.\n\nGod, Leila hated him.\n\nLeila tilted her right shoulder upward, trying to make her hand stretch just a bit higher above the crowd. When Samuel's eyes met hers, she knew she needn't have bothered; his smile took on an imperious, condescending aire, likely impersceptible to those who hadn't grown up with him. His gaze lingered on Leila just long enough to relay the message: As long as I'm up here, you're not getting any more questions.\n\nInstead, Samuel pointed to the guy on Leila's left. The room went silent, hands fell to laps full of notepads and laptops, and Leila scowled.\n\n\"Bill Sorensen, ABC,\" he said quickly. Of course everyone knew him, but decorum had to be observed. \"Mr. Birch, there've been several recent reports suggesting that the weapons depots cited as the rationale behind this policy shift may not, in fact, be weapons depots at all. Some have even suggested that the photographic evidence cited by this administration have been falsified. Can you comment?\"\n\nLeila heard a sharp breath behind her. She understood; in recent years, that would have been a ballsy question. But Samuel just smiled and nodded throughout the question. That was part of his charm to the press corps. He didn't get angry or defensive, he never rattled. He just smiled, then spoke with the confidence of someone who knew he would be listened to.\n\n\"Yes, Bill, we're aware of such reports,\" Samuel said patiently, \"and although we seriously doubt their veracity\\-\\-\"\n\nHis gaze cut quickly to Leila, condescension flickering there once more. God Leila hated him.\n\n\"\\-\\-let me assure you,\" Samuel continued, \"that we have every reason to believe the authenticity of the photographs in question and the credibility of the intelligence agents responsible for their collection. Despite what may have been written by some of our colleagues in this room, believe me when I say that this administration would absolutely not take any sort of action unless there were absolute certainty about the intelligence details.\"\n\n\"Oh Sammy, such lies.\"\n\nA new voice cut through the silence, its tone simultaneously mocking and pitying. Every head turned toward the back of the room. A figure in a well\\-cut navy suit stood with his back to the crowd, closing the double doors leading into the press room. They met and shut with an odd sense of finality, but not before Leila glimpsed the floor beyond.\n\nBeside her, Bill whispered, \"Was that the security guard on the ground?\" Apparently he saw the same thing Leila had. His tone was remarkably calm given the sentiment. Leila expected as much from a seasoned veteran like Bill. She, however, was still new enough to her role that she had not completely acclimated to the anxiety of reporting on the national and international stages. Her stomach churned nervously.\n\nFor a moment the man stood still, facing the door. Then he turned to face the podium to reveal a rather unremarkable man, quite average in height and rather broad in stature, his somewhat squared jaw lined by a day or two's worth of new beard that only darkened his sun\\-worne complexion. \n\nOnce more, Leila heard a sharp breath from behind her. She alone turned her head toward Samuel, and blinked. Samuel stared wide\\-eyed at the newcomer with an expression Leila had never seen on him before: fear. Fear twisted Samuel's handsome face into something ugly, paranoid. Sweat suddenly beaded his forehead despite the powder that had been subtley applied to prevent such a thing. The comfortable confidence with which he carried himself had been replaced by obvious tension, as though he wanted nothing more than to run. Yet he simply stood there, staring.\n\nLeila looked back to the newcomer. He unbuttoned his suit jacket and slipped his hands into his pants pockets, staring back at Samuel.\n\nThen he smiled.\n\nWhereas a moment before he had seemed extraordinarily average, his smile seemed to transform him. His broad stature suddenly seemed strong, commanding. His ruddy features and unkempt beard spoke of long days of hard, rewarding work. His brown eyes shone brightly, promising pleasurable company and sparkling conversation. The charm that Samual usually exhibited was nothing compared to the sheer sense of presence that this man exuded.\n\nLeila and every other person in the room, save Samuel, immediately liked him.\n\nThe man began walking toward the podium, each step slow and measured. \"Oh Sammy,\" he said the name again, and Leila blinked, suddenly recognizing a nickname she hadn't heard in almost twenty years.\n\n\"Sammy, Sammy. Look how far you've come.\" The man gestured around the room with one hand. He stopped in front of the podium, still smiling, still holding Samuel's gaze. \"If only they knew, eh?\"\n\nSamuel shook as he brought his hand to his forehead. \"You... uh...\" he stammed. \"You're early.\"\n\nThe man shrugged one shoulder. \"I held up my end of the bargain,\" he said matter\\-of\\-factly. \"There were no timelines expressly written into the contract, only guidelines for what you would achieve. And oh my, what you have achieved. From an unknown, backwoods town, single parent upbringing, to one of the most public positions in the entire world. People talk about you as an early contender for governor when your time at the White House ends. A true rags\\-to\\-riches story.\" The man's smile widened. \"You know, I even read a Fox News thinkpiece suggesting that you were well on your way toward the presidency yourself in a decade or so.\"\n\nThe conversation seemed to steady Samuel a bit. Though his voice quavered, he spoke with some of his former surity, \"Yes, well, the public knows I can be relied upon to tell them the truth and\\-\\-\"\n\nThe man's head fell back as he barked out a laugh, stunning Samuel once more into silence. \"The truth!\" he cried through his laughter. \"Oh Sammy, please, don't. Don't do that. Not to me.\" He shook his head and wiped the corner of his eye. \"I literally know you better than you know yourself. You are constitutionally incapable of telling the truth unless it's in service to some greater lie to build yourself up. I know, I gave you that skill.\"\n\nHe slipped his hand into his jacket, removing a manila envelope held shut with what appeared to be dark brown wax. Leila thought it was much too large to have been so perfectly concealed under that jacket. He held it up wordlessly, as though implying, See this? At the sight of it, the blood drained from Samuel's face. Neither man spoke; the hum of the overhead lights and the quick, tense breath of the press corps filled the room.\n\nFinally, Samuel whispered, \"I'm not ready. I have so much more to do.\"\n\nAnother shrug, and the man held out the envelope. \"A bargain was made and sealed, and I have more than delivered on my end. As much as you may think you deserve whatever future you've planned for yourself, I'm afraid that other interested parties have offered far more for what you want.\" He waved the envelope slowly. \"It's time to collect.\"\n\nAt those words, Samuel backed away, slamming against the presidential seal behind him. \"No!\" he shouted, terrified. \"Security! Security!!!\"\n\nLeila and the rest of the corps were entranced, still, almost breathless now. They looked around them. Each of the three sets of doors were shut. No guard came bursting into the room. Nothing happened. Samuel stayed pressed into the wall, unmoving, breathing rapidly. Leila wondered if he might hyperventilate.\n\nThe man just smiled for maybe thirty seconds. \"I'm afraid,\" he finally said, \"that no one will be coming. This is between us, Sammy. You promised me a soul. There is nothing in Heaven that can change that, and nothing in Hell that would want to.\" He placed his fingers under the lip of the envelope, pulling it upward, straining the waxy seal.\n\nSamuel shrieked. \"NO, WAIT, PLE\\-\\-\"\n\nThe seal broke, and Samuel went silent, frozen, reaching out to the man plaintively. Then he simply collapsed, like a ragdoll, the light and life gone from his eyes.\n\nThe room broke into chaos.\n\nAlmost in unison, the correspondents screamed and leapt from their seats. A tide of reporters bolted for the three doors to the press room. The press corps tried desperately to escape, bodies pressing together tightly as those in the front tried and failed to force the doors open, banged their fists into them, crying for aid.\n\nAll but Leila. She remained in her chair, staring at Samuel's corpse. She remembered all the times he had teased her, bullied her. She remembered the stink of his breath in her ear, the corrosive tone of his voice as he told her no one would believe her, that he owned her now. The sense of hopelessness as she liftened to his Magne Cum Laude speech. The rage when he was announced as Press Secretary.\n\nGod, she hated him.\n\nAnd now, seeing him there, all she felt was contentment.\n\nLeila didn't know how long she stared, but when she finally broke away, the chaos of the room had subsided. Members of the press corps were huddled on the ground at the doors, some of them weeping, others rocking themselved gently, whispering to themselves and each other that it was going to be okay. Bill laid in the aisle, unconscious Leila thought, with a shallow gash across his temple and dusty footprints on his back.\n\nThe man had moved behind the podium, now facing the audience. For the first time, he spoke to them directly.\n\n\"Ladies and gentlemen, if you would be so kind, please return to your seats.\"\n\nThe warmth and charisma had returned to his voice, or perhaps they had never left it. He had simply not yet directed them toward the correspondents. When he did, the crying and whispering ceased. The reporters stood and staggered back to their original positions, stepping gingerly over and around Bill's prone body. The man waited as they collected their notepads and gradually turned their attention to him.\n\nA few moments of silence, then the man spoke.\n\n\"I apologize for the theatrics. In the past I've tried simply giving my name, but that has always been met with such incredulity that I decided to try a different approach.\" His smile was radiant. \"I trust I need no further introduction?\"\n\nSeveral correspondents shook their heads.\n\n\"Good.\" He took a breath, exhaled in a long sigh, and placed both hands on the podium. \"Throughout history, people have liked to use me as a scapegoat for their troubles. I've been simultaneously accused of destroying empires and dynasties, and for raising them, depending on whose side you were on. I've been blamed for your wicked natures since time immemorial.\" He paused, then smirked. \"Well, immemorial to you, anyway.\"\n\nHe slipped his hands back into his pockets. \"Frankly, I've grown tired of it. It's not that I'm bothered by your opinions of me\\-\\-far from it, actually. I find your skewed perception of the nature of existence to be oddly charming in its naiveté.\" He tilted his head back, looking up at the ceiling searchingly. \"You know, I was even blamed for the creation of Dungeons and Dragons. Dungeons and Dragons, for Christ's sake.\" He shook his head, chuckled once more, and gestured casually toward Samuel's lifeless body. \"As though I need to trick people into making a deal. You people are more than capable of corrupting yourselves.\"\n\nHe turned his gaze back to the crowd. \"I play a much less active role in this world than you probably think. Hell, these days most of you don't even believe that I exist, or that there any lasting consequences to your actions. I don't have to take an active role because so many of you just come to me of your own volition. It actually makes my job much easier, truth be told.\"\n\nFor the first time, he frowned. \"It makes my job a little too easy.\"\n\nHe started pacing, frustration evident in his voice. \"There was a time that I really had to work for my successes. I had to convince people to give themselves over, to take that bite, to look back, to do anything other than what He wanted.\" He waved his hand carelessly toward the ceiling. \"Now, most of you just line up, begging for your seat at the table, what you think you deserve. I told Him you were wicked by nature and that I would prove it, but I never expected you to make it so easy.\" He sighed. \"It's all so fucking boring.\"\n\nHe stopped pacing, stood once more behind the podium, and looked to the crowd. \"I refuse to spend the next four thousand some\\-odd years without any kind of job satisfaction. So, I figure it's time to set the record straight.\" He fixed the top button of his suit jacket and placed his hands back on the podium.\n\n\"Now, does anyone have any questions?\"\n\nThe room was silent and still. The correspondents sat rigid, wide\\-eyed, searching for some way to make sense of what they had heard. No one moved.\n\nNo one, except Leila. Slowly, she raised her right hand.\n\nThe man turned his gaze to her, smiled warmly, and pointed. \"Yes, Ms. Temple?\"\n\nLeila returned his smile.\n\n\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\n\nNot quite what the prompt implied, but this is what came to me.", "Live on CNN.\n\n\"Hello mortals. My name is Satan. You can call me the Devil.\n\nNow, I've tolerated all kinds of insults from this realm. You people tried to make me non\\-existent, evil, shitty, a total scumbag who always lies. In fact, all I've been doing is in His plan. In your tiny brains, please process this: I do not take independent actions. If that man up there wanted me dead, I would be dead. The fact that I'm still allowed to torture people shows that he wants me to continue. You people like justice, no? When a rapist goes to a prison, he'd taste his own medicine because this society, this species wants revenge, which is justice to you, no?\n\nSo is torturing people bad? I mean, it's not just people either. I have Hitler in my oven right now. Do you know how many prayers and curses reached my ears for this single dude to burn in hell? Chri\\-\\-\\-I mean, FUCK.\n\nAhem. This is beside the point.\n\nRecently, you have been associating me with yet another insulting subject. I'm a patient guy, after all, I could endure His punishment, so pretty much nothing else comes close to dwindling my cool. But here's the thing, mortals.\n\nI do not wish to be associated with these eggheads. I have my own followers. They do crazy shit. No, seriously, go around the city, look for one of my followers. They're actually worthy of being my followers because they do some unimaginable stuff. Just the thought of it would make you heave.\n\nListen up, carefully. I don't like who you're linking me with. This is an actual insult. I can tolerate words and blasphemy. But this, this \"trend\" that you're creating about how this \"game\", this, this goddamned, two dimensional pass time for physically and emotionally weak four eyes riddled with acne is somehow fucking connected to me is absolutely intolerable. I'm not even just talking blindly. I tried the game myself, played it with a few of my colleagues. In summary, it's literally just a piece of board that you throw twenty sided dices onto and hallucinate shit. It would've been fun but as you know, demons don't really think anything other than malicious intent. We needed creative minds in the past but not now. We have enough torture ideas and chambers each designed for different purposes.\n\nSo stop it. Stop trying to make me look bad. I don't care about dungeons and dragons. We \\have\\ dragons. We \\have\\ dungeons. We don't need to imagine it, we can actually explore the latter and ride on the first.\n\nI don't like these kids. These kids are the manifestation of borderline retardation. Not a single one of them will succeed in life. Naming them Satanists and them failing would only demean me. I'm not incompetent. I won't just sit here and watch.\n\nFrom now on, if anyone dares to poke fun at me with these ridiculous claims, I will personally smash their teeth in. So stop. Stop it.\n\nThank you.\"", "\"So, do you know why we're here?\" Alex asked.\n\nThe man next to him - Martin? Alex wondered - just shrugged. \"No idea. My editor told me to get down here. Said if I missed it, I didn't need to bother coming in again.\"\n\n\"That's basically what happened to me. Kind of weird.\" Alex bit the end of his pen and frowned, staring at his notebook. He had the date written at the top of the page, along with the place and the time, but where he would normally have written the name, there was just a large, triple-underlined question mark.\n\n\"I think it's something to do with Miramax,\" said another man sitting nearby. Alex looked up. \"Really?\"\n\n\"Yeah, I heard the same,\" chimed in another. Then, Laurence from the LA Times - or the Enquirer? he was always moving around so much, but I guess that's natural when you're that much of a horndog... - glanced over at them.\n\n\"It's not Miramax. Harvey called the meeting, but it's not him that's coming,\" he said. Everyone sighed a little in relief; Harvey always came across as creepy, so it was no great loss if he wasn't coming. \"It's a favour for someone else. Repaying a debt, or something. I don't really know.\"\n\nEveryone slowly turned back to the podium up on the stage. Everything about this was strange. They'd been called here, for an apparently secret meeting, with a speaker that no-one could identify. The podium lacked any microphones, despite the cavernous size of the ballroom they were in, and even though there were only moments before the press conference was set to begin, there were no people scurrying around in the background preparing.\n\nEven the one thing they could see - the podium - was weird. It was unusually large, and looked to be made of a jet-black wood. When Alex looked again, he realized that the wood was dark, but not actually black; instead something had charred the surface until it was coated with a thin layer of ash.\n\n\"That's weird...\" Alex muttered, to himself more than anything else. He was half-way through scribbling a note to himself when the entire podium seemed to explode into a cloud of smoke. The entire room drew back, some jumping from their chairs, and everyone gasping in surprise.\n\nThey quickly regretted the gasp, as the clouds of foul-smelling air wafted over them. The smells of barbeque and burning hair mixed with brimstone and fear, forming a heady cocktail that had everyone gagging.\n\n\"My, my. My little pets said that the mortal world had a weak stomach nowadays, but I didn't quite believe it,\" came a voice. It wasn't even particularly loud, but it carried easily to the edges of the room. Everyone looked around, sizing him up.\n\nThe man on stage behind the podium seemed amused. He was tall, and held himself with a confidence that suggested great power. His suit was tailored, well-fitting, and looked expensive enough that several of the younger reporters, still struggling to make rent payments, winced with jealousy.\n\n\"Everyone feeling a little better now?\" The smug condescension reeked off the man, and his smile hinted at malevolence. The only thing about him that seemed less than perfect was his hair; the golden locks, swished fashionably across his forehead, were darkened with soot and age, until there was almost as much black and grey there as gold.\n\n\"Who are you?\" someone shouted.\n\n\"What do you want?\" said another.\n\n\"Where did you come from?\"\n\n\"What the fuck was that smell?\" came a voice from the back. The man laughed, and nodded.\n\n\"Ahh, so many questions. To be expected, of course. Well, first things first...\" He paused to casually brush the dust from his lapel, and then turned back. \"First, I am the Devil. Satan. The Great Devourer. Lord of Hell. Prince of Darkness. Asmodeus. King of Genies. Baphomet. Beezlebub...\"\n\nHe paused again, and grinned. \"This goes on a while. But, suffice to say, I am your worst nightmares. However, if you don't wish to worship me, feel free to call me Lucifer.\" His smile broaded, and his eyebrows twitched, hiding the glint in his eyes. \"You'll call me Sir in time.\"\n\n\"What the fuck are you talking about?\" called out another reporter, his accent betraying his Boston heritage. Alex smirked; it would be someone from Boston.\n\nThe Devil sighed heavily, and brushed his hair. \"A demonstration, then.\" With a casual flick of his wrist, one of the empty chairs near the front of the room exploded into flames, and a second flick opened a small window in the air.\n\nThe sounds of screaming and misery wafted through, accompanied by another burst of the awful stench. The Devil let them watch, right up until a screaming, charred thing - it had been human once, but the eons of torture had reduced it a mere 'thing' - charged at the portal, begging for help. Just before it could run through, the Devil brought his hand down in a chopping motion. There was just enough time to hear the faint sound of a body crunching into a wall as the window slammed closed.\n\n\"Convinced?\" he asked with a smile. A long, heavy pause hung on the air, an threatened to engulf them all. It was only broken when someone cheered, leaping to his feet and pumping his hands.\n\nSuddenly, everyone was freed, and began moving. Many dropped to their knees in prayer, and several more ran towards the exits. A few more began pulling out their wallets, hanging their heads as they passed bills to smirking colleagues.\n\n\"What are you people doing?\" the Devil asked, frowning at them. One reporter nearby turned around, and flashed him a thumbs up.\n\n\"Settling bets. I always told Harry that the Devil was British.\" He turned back to the man, wearing a BBC badge, and stuck his middle finger in his face. \"Take that, you Limey fuck.\"\n\n\"Well, I say, that's a little uncalled for...\" the other man started to say. The Devil, though, had had enough.\n\n\"Sit down!\" he bellowed. In truth, he barely raised his voice, but the sound seemed to reverberate inside everyone's skull. Trembling, they turned, sitting in the nearest chairs.\n\n\"My God. I blame Reaganism. That, or all the drugs,\" the Devil said. He shook his head, eyes flicking from one person to the next. \"No wonder you're all so bad at your jobs.\"\n\n\"What... what do you want, Mr. Devil?\" one of the reporters asked. He was one of the ones who had been praying, and as soon as he spoke, the little cluster of his friends who had prayed with him started to inch away.\n\n\"Well, I called this meeting to discuss a terrible miscarriage of justice. Ordinarily, I wouldn't really concern myself with such things. I'd just wait until the End Times and let Daddy DoesLittle sort it all out.\" He paused, taking a breath to calm himself; small sparks and wisps of flame had started to appear at his finger tips. \"However, this particular miscarriage of justice concerns me, so I do care.\"\n\nNo-one spoke. No-one moved. An uneasy feeling filled the whole room, settling like a heavy blanket over everything. Finally, the Devil gestured.\n\n\"Start taking notes.\" The sound of paper rustling burst out as everyone opened their notebooks. Then, there was the sound of scribbling pens. Satisfied, the Devil nodded. \"So. It has come to my attention that you people are accusing the players of something called... Dungeons and Dragons of being worshipers of my good and humble self.\"\n\nHe flashed his smile around the room for a second, only to suddenly let it drop from his face. The abruptness of the change chilled the reporters, and in the corner, one made a cross sign above his heart.\n\n\"Well, I came here to say that they are most decidedly not evil,\" the Devil went on, his tone severe. \"These people are nerds. What, honestly, is a nerd ever going to do?\"\n\nIt sounded rhetorical, but the way he stopped and looked around made the audience realize they were expected to answer. They stared at the floor, squirming in their seats, and finally murmuring platitudes to their shoes.\n\n\"Nothing! Nerds will never do anything evil. I mean, what could they do? Hmm? Are they going to create some kind of planet-spanning super network and fill it full of cat videos and porn just to distract everyone?\" He laughed, waving a hand dismissively. \"Are they going to get everyone to start sending letters on it, then help the government read them all? Trick people into putting all of their embarrassing pictures and their inane ramblings in one place, then spend hours of their life stalking each other, and becoming depressed over how much better every else's life seems? Or make a website with an absurbly low limit on how many letters you can use, and then get the politicians of the world on there to show off what a bunch of monumental cretins they all are?\"\n\nWhile he was talking, the Devil's voice seemed to slow, and a strange expression came across his face. By the time he finished, there the malevolent grin was back in force. He flashed his smile around once more, then tipped his head to one side.\n\n\"On second thoughts, keep up the good work. Now, I have something to do.\" He turned, swishing a portal open with one hand. He stepped through and it slammed shut, but they could just hear his voice, floating back towards them.\n\n\"Brutus! Get a pen. I've had a wonderful idea...\"\n\n-----\n\nHello! Thank you for reading. If you enjoyed this, please look at my other work, at /r/PuzzledRobot.", "As he expected the room was filled with journalists from all around the globe. Hell, even the Australians came. The devil giggled at this little word play he just invented. You would expect a divine being to have a somewhat lower and more impressing voice, but truth is he sounded like a school boy. Must have been all that yelling in the deepest crypts of the Underworld. Jeez, it is almost impossible to have a decent conversation down there over all those cries. As always, the word 'decent' only means what you make of it. In this case, 'decent' usually involves a lot of curses and crazy plans to take over the world. Until this day, none of those plans ever involved games like D&D.\n\nThe devil nodded and with a snap of his fingers the doors slammed shut. He could probably do without the snap but it added a pinch of drama which he very much enjoyed. All eyes were immediately on him. With quite some noise he cleared his throat. \" Ladies and gentlemen, please do allow me to introduce myself, although I sincerely believe it to be unnecessary. My name is the devil, Beëlzebub, the beast or whatever else you like to call me. Before you bombard me with your questions, let me get a few things straight from the beginning: Yes, I do live in hell but there is practically no regulation on my whereabouts so I can basically go wherever I want to. Yes, I do have horns and a nice pair of wings and no, I'm not wearing them right now since I believed a more casual appearance would be more fitting. Now, is there anything else you would like to know?\" With these words the devil looked up. The entire room was awkwardly wiggling their butts on their chairs. At last, one woman raised her hand. The devil sighed. Of course, a woman. Way too much curiosity squeezed into a tiny body. No wonder it was Eve who bit into the apple. Adam was probably still figuring out how he got his hands on such a lovely creature. \"Go ahead, Darling.\" The woman dried her sweaty hands on her custom made pants. \"Why were you cast out of the heavens,... Sir?\" The devil giggled again. \"I wouldn't let the old man win at Scrabble. Now can we continue?\" In the back a big man stood up his face flushed red with anger. \"This is complete bullshit. You are a lunatic and you belong in an asylum.\" The devil rolled his eyes. Oh dear God, will this hell ever end? He looked at the man: middle-aged, ugly, no wife or kids. The only person that would miss him was the hooker around the corner. I guess Daddy on the golden throne wouldn't mind that much if I took him. Again he snapped his fingers and the man fell lifeless on the ground\n\n Like a true artist, he raised his hands to the crowd frozen with fear, knowing damn well he had paralysed them himself. \"Ladies and gentlemen, please be patient. Soon, you'll all be on your way.\" He looked at the body and laughed his maniac laugh. \"Well, almost all of you. The only thing I have yet to get off my chest is this: please do not associate me with these nerds playing a game like Dungeons and Dragons. They have no life at all and I have plenty of lives.\" He chuckled. \"I hereby dissociate myself from them. You claiming such trash is by my hand is an offence to me and my work. And as you can see, I take my job very seriously.\" Again he pointed at the man. He then slapped his hands together. \"That was everything.\" When the crowd remained motionless, he clapped his hands. \"Come on. On your way everyone. Don't you have an article to write? Hurry. I've got other businesses to attend to.\" The woman that dared to ask a question was crying and murmuring 'oh god' over and over again. On his way out the devil stopped by her seat and said: \"I wouldn't put so much faith in that one if I were you.\" He smirked at her confused look. \"If you'd have done something to displease him, you'd be dead by now.\" He showed her a lifeless smile. \"And trust me, I can know.\" He then proceeded to pat her on the head and walked out of the room, casually picking up the body and tossing it over his shoulder while whistling 'Over the rainbow'.\n\n(Hello guys. This is my very first post ever on Reddit so please be nice to me. English is also not my first language so I'd like to apologize for any mistakes. Have a nice read and an even better day.)", "\"20 Things Only 80s Kids Will Remember\" the BuzzFeed article read. The list of course contained the usual things that go on lists of those types. 1. The Cosby Show 2. Just Say No 3. The Devil holding a press conference about D&D. Oh man that one takes me back, I was raised in a religious household and of course my mother was worried about me becoming a Satanist. I was watching a Televangelism when the Devil appeared on the show, he told everyone that he was going to hold a press conference about Dungeons & Dragons. And so everything was worked out with the networks to broadcast it to the world on a Sunday night, I remember my mother talking about how he was probably gonna take credit for various stuff. But that wasn't what happened instead the Devil got on stage and spoke in a deep voice \"Dungeons & Dragons is not about Devil worship, it's a game that people play and I have no part in it. In fact most of the stuff that you think that I had a part in I didn't, that was all you guys. War? Yeah that was you assholes.\"\n\nAnd right as the Devil said that a reporter yelled \"Sir you can't swear on public television!\" and that was the funniest thing that my 11 year old brain had ever heard but the Devil sighed and just continued \"Right my apologies, but my point being that I am not pulling any strings, I don't control people by using role-playing games, you people always have the wrong idea of what I do, I just torture sinners, nothing else. Ok? Now any questions?\"\n\nThere was silence until a reporter stood up and asked \"So to avoid going to Hell do you just have to be Christian?\"\n\n\"No, you can be sent to hell no matter what you believe in. Like lots of Priests are going to Hell.\"\n\n\"Why?\"\n\n\"I will tell you guys later. But any other questions?\"\n\nAnother reporter asked the next question \"So none of the horrible stuff is your fault?\"\n\n\"Yeah that of all of yours guys' fault. The only thing that I have been involved in recently is the invention of the toaster.\"\n\n\"Is the toaster satanic then?\"\n\n\"No. Look maybe this would be better if I was interviewed on I don't know The Tonight Show. Ok can we that worked out? OK point being that D&D is not satanic, also being gay is not a sin and stop watching Televangelists.\"\n\nMan the 80s were weird, and after a while the Devil got his own show called The Devil's Advocate\n\nNote: That was my first real attempt at doing one of these writing prompt things so sorry if it sucks.", "No one appreciated the destructive power of ridicule as well as the Devil did. Had he not employed the subtleties of satire himself to galvanize his admirers in the early days? An innocuous joke here, a light-hearted jab there, and in no time at all would hidden absurdities be laid bare for the world to mock. After all, if there was one thing the Devil loved more than to destroy, it was to undermine. \n\nAnd that was the only reason the Devil had deigned to appear in the flesh before a horde of reporters, just so that he could make crystal clear that he was wholly unrelated to Dungeons & Dragons. \n\n“… and that concludes the 5 points why I am evil incarnate, and how Dungeons & Dragons in no way, shape or form even comes close to representing one-hundredth of the corruption that I am. I’ll take questions now. You, there, the one in the red tie.”\n\n“Thank you, yes, Sam Natters from The National Query. Do you have any comments on how disruptive it is to the routines of the denizens of Hell when gamers complete the summoning rituals in the Monsters’ Handbook?”\n\n“Ah. Were you listening during my presentation? I’d addressed that, under point 3. As far as I am aware, no, none of the rituals which can summon me or my colleagues have been replicated in any of the Dungeons & Dragons source books.”\n\n“So what you’re saying is, there are rituals which do work?”\n\n“No, that was not what I was-”\n\n“And will those rituals be in any of the upcoming expansion modules to be released?”\n\nThe Devil narrowed his eyes, then made a mental note to prepare a separate cell for Sam at the appropriate juncture. A dozen other hands in the audience shot up, caught up in the tempo of the exchange. \n\n“I believe I’ve answered that,” said the Devil. “Next question. You there, the lady in the front, the one who’s waiting for her boyfriend to leave town so that she can misbehave.”\n\nBut that wasn’t enough to embarrass her into silence. “Jane Harrow, from News Daily. How many teenage souls, give or take, have passed through the gateway of Dungeons & Dragons to join the Church of Satan?”\n\n“You weren’t listening either, miss. Point 4, I’ve listed out all the agencies in the world who have, actually, been properly licensed to represent us. That Church has borrowed our name, but they do not preach-” \n\n“Just a ballpark figure? In the region of… say, one, two million? Come on, throw us a bone here.”\n\n“Zer-… the number is too small, miss. It is insignificant in the larger scheme of things. I’d like to move on-” \n\n“Ah! So what you’re saying is, at least one soul has actually transitioned to become your loyal subject because of Dungeons & Dragons?”\n\nThe Devil regretted that blip of honesty he had shown. There were, unfortunately, a certain group of individuals so misguided that they had actually perceived the Devil’s intent amongst the thousands of lines of backstory in the source books. The Devil had been furious at first, and had yelled at the literary demons for going behind his back to sow his teachings there. But they had sworn till their faces were blue that they had nothing to do with it – further investigation revealed that a printing error had introduced uneven spacings into Volume 3 of the Bestiary, such that if one were to transcribe the text into Morse code, feed the scribblings into a fax machine twice, then burn the transmission receipts while denouncing the Heavens, the resulting smoke plumes would actually look like “The Devil Did Nothing Wrong” if one squinted just right.\n\nAnother mental note, to find out just how Jonathan Beston of New Hope, CA had discovered that unlikely chain of events.\n\n“I’d rather reserve time for the people who paid attention to me earlier, Jane. Yes, you there, the man in the blue suit.”\n\nNo sooner were the words out of the Devil’s mouth that he regretted them.\n\n“Thank you. I am Michael, no last name. I’d like to refer to the events of 17 April, 1981. That was the day that Ivanov Teter was arrested for the multiple slayings in downtown Boston. When he was overpowered, they found he had character sheets in his pockets matching his victims’ descriptions, and a set of 21-sided dice in his hands. Care to elaborate on that?”\n\nIt wasn’t fair. There was such a thing as professional courtesy, and not once in his memory had the Devil ever rubbed salt in when his counterparts made mistakes. And Michael was going to do this now, in public no less? Sure, there were certain lapses in governance which led to Ivanov’s escape to the surface, and Hell should really have put in a bit more effort in recapturing the wayward demon.\n\nBut how could any of them have known that Ivanov developed a weakness for the blasted game? That he enjoyed leading play sessions, creating detailed backstories and character motivations, and that he couldn’t understand that humans up on the surface did not, in fact, have any of the constitution which the demons possessed? And that it was not good form for a Dungeon Master to actually inflict any spell damage in real life, realism be damned?\n\n“Michael, that is not cool of you. The report was shared with your department as well, and you know that I did not sign off on any part of that fracas. To the rest of you, if there is one thing I want you to take away, it is this – Dungeons & Dragons is not the face of evil. It is tame, it is cringe-inducing, and it mistakes edginess for true depravity. I don’t care how many elves they paint a darker colour, elves are still elves and the whole lot of them are annoying. Good day to you.”\n\nThe Devil started stomping off amidst the uproar, then a flash of inspiration occurred to him. He stalked back to the lectern, waited for the din to die down, then spoke gravely into the microphone. His voice bounced around the room, a solemn harbinger of the things to come.\n\n“I will create a company and show you what true evil is. In the years to come, you will suffer a living hell here on earth. And that is when I want you to think back to this day, and you will say, gosh, to think that we accused the Devil of dabbling in Dungeons & Dragons. Oh, if only we knew how dastardly devious he truly was.”\n\nThe Devil really left this time, and he was in such a foul mood that he left smoldering hoofmarks on the carpet. Lanalel, his personal assistant, rushed up to him with notepad ready in hand. There was a reason why she was his favourite.\n\n“I heard you back there, boss. I’ve contacted our lawyers, they’re on standby to incorporate the company you had in mind. They’ll want to know what to call it.”\n\nThe Devil smiled. \n\n“Wouldn’t the demon-tongue dialect shortform for ‘laughing while you are suffering in eternal pain’ be appropriate, Lanalel? I don’t care what the lawyers choose as long as the name can be abbreviated to that.”\n\nLanalel nodded. “Got it, boss. One EA, coming right up.”\n\n---\n\n/r/rarelyfunny\n", "\"Maria this building is on fire.\"\n\n\"Fantastic observational skills, Stan,\" I replied between panting breaths as I ran up the fire stairs. People pushed past me as they ran in the opposite direction all dressed in skimpy party outfits, presumably running from whatever was on top of the building. \n\n\"Yeah, Maria, I'm thinking those are observational skills you do not possess,\" Stan said, not even breathing hard even though he was carrying a huge camera. \n\n\"Look Stan - \" A woman wearing some artfully placed electric tape pushed past me and I cursed. \"We're in New fuckin' York City, and you know what I covered yesterday? A cookie festival in Bryant Park, Stan. A cookie festival.\"\n\nStan sighed, \"Look Maria, I get that, I really do, but is this,\" he gestured vaguely to the running people and the smoke, \"is this really the way to do it?\"\n\nThe people were gone now, and all that stood between us and the rooftop bar was a flimsy metal door. I took a deep breath and burst out in coughs - there was a strong hint of sulfur in the air, but there wasn't really much smoke. \n\n\"Stan, if I have to cover another cookie festival, I really will run into a burning building. This is at least productive.\"\n\nI threw open the door and froze. \n\nIn front of me was a man in a crisp crimson red suit. His features were sharp, the classic investment banker look. Pale skin, impeccably styled hair, long nose, high cheekbones. But what gave me pause were the horns curling up out of his hair, and the folded wings behind him. They were vaguely translucent, and I could make out veins running through them. But more than the wings and the horns his eyes...slitted like a cat's and colored a deep red.\n\nHe smiled when he saw me. \n\n\"What the hell!?\" Stan said behind me, echoing my sentiments.\n\n\"Hell is the exact word I would use to describe it yes,\" the man said in a silky smooth voice. \"You see, I'm Lucifer.\" As he said a halo of pure fire appeared above his head. Cinders jumped off the halo and one landed on a sofa, where it singed the velvet. \n\nI gaped at him. Stan gaped at him.\n\nLucifer frowned. \"Do you...not know me? Maybe you know the song? I'm a man of wealth and taste?\"\n\nThe Devil quoting Sympathy for the Devil finally jarred me out of my reverie. \n\n\"Bullsh-\" I began but Lucifer just sighed. \n\n\"Oh come on, do we really have to do this? You're Maria Garcia, 5'11\", 32, reporter for ten years, you live in a one bedroom apartment in Queens, do you want me to tell you your social security?\"\n\nStan let out a small squeak. \n\nOkay Maria you can do this. You wanted a chance, here it is. Worst case you've found a serial killer, best case you're dealing with the real Lucifer. You can do this. You can do this.\n\nI let out a a breath, ran my hands through my hair to fix it. \"Stan roll the camera.\"\n\n\"E...Excuse me?!\" Stand began.\n\n\"Roll. The. Camera.\" \n\nWithout waiting for a response I stalked up to the Devil, trying my best not to think about all the stories about him, all the millions he'd probably tortured. \"So, what brings you here, uh.\"\n\n\"Lucifer is just fine,\" he said, flashing me a million dollar smile. \"I've come to clear my damn name,\" he said. \n\n\"C-clear your name?\"\n\n\"That's right. I'm being associated with nerds playing board games these days? Are you serious? Me, who has challenged God himself is going to be summoned by some perps with an overactive imagination?\" He looked towards me as if he was expecting me to say something.\"\n\n\"R...right, of course sir. Completely ridiculous..\"\n\nLucifer nodded. \"See, I'm glad you agree. Thank you Maria.\"\n\n\"Anytime,\" I said in a small voice. \n\n\"Right,\" Lucifer said. \"So, humanity, if you want to attribute something to me, make sure it's at a scale I would bother myself with. Even I have standards you know?\"\n\nSilence. \n\n\"By the way Maria, your cameraman never turned on his camera,\" Lucifer said with a smirk. \n\nNo. I whirled back to Stan who had somehow managed to go even more pale. \n\nI felt a hand on my shoulder and turned back to find Lucifer with his hand on me. Ten years of reporting kept me from flinching away from his touch. \"Not to worry Maria, our little conversation was broadcasted live to every reflective surface on this planet. You have exposure.\"\n\nI blinked. \n\n\"Well, it's been a pleasure Maria, but alas, souls to torture and all that. I look forward to seeing you in the future!\" \n\nBefore I could contemplate on that he winked at me and was gone in a puff of smoke. \n\n**\n\n(minor edits)\n\nIf you enjoyed check out [XcessiveWriting](https://www.reddit.com/r/XcessiveWriting/)", "One would think making the devil himself angry was not within a mortal's reach, but when he showed up from inside a mouth of darkness, interrupting the president speech and announcing a press conference to dislodge himself from the acts of those D&D nerds, mankind knew that their opinions mattered to him.\n\nA week later, the devil grabbed the microphone, straightened his back in perfect position, and adjusted his tie. His ruddy immensity couldn't be captured on the frame, and so when the camera crew pointed it out he trembled with wrath, but shrunk to a proper size.\n\n\"Mortals,\" the devil said. His voice was deep, pleasant to the ear. \"I'm well aware of your thoughts on those nerds playing Dungeons and Dragons. I want to make very clear that there's absolutely no association between their table-top game and me. They are not my emissaries, nor a selective group I chose to represent me here in Earth. They are a bunch of nerds and nothing else.\"\n\nThe hands of the reporters were all aloft, and the devil pointed at a lanky fellow with fair hear to speak.\n\n\"First of all, it's an honor to be talking to you,\" said the reporter, \"but how do you explain the endless hours under the candlelight those 'not-emissaries-of-yours' spend speaking in weird voices and saying strange words?\"\n\nThe devil fixed his tie and wiped off sweat from his temple. \"Have you ever played Dungeons and Dragons?\"\n\n\"I have not. I'm not a nerd.\"\n\nThe devil winced, but quickly recovered. \"It's no different to being an actor in a play where you play a sorcerer,\" the devil said. \"The script will tell you to speak in weird voices and say weird words. That's Dungeons and dragons, but you perform to your friends, instead of an audience.\"\n\n\"Thank you,\" the reported said, yet dozens of hands went aloft.\n\n\"You with the blue mic and superman hair.\"\n\n\"My question,\" the second reporter said with a cunning smirk, \"is who gives them that script you speak about?\"\n\nThe reporters stared at each other nodding as if they had cracked the devil's lie.\n\n\"It's improvisation, no one gives them a script. They choose a race, a class and act as if they were that character in a fantasy world created by the dungeon master.\"\n\n\"And who, if I may ask,\" the second reporter said, now grinning, \"is this entity you call dungeon master? Who gives him the powers to create a fantasy world?\"\n\nThe devil smiled, but his blood boiled with deep hatred. How could these folks be so ignorant? Wasn't their job to dig in the subject before asking bullshit? \"The Dungeon Master is another player. He's not an entity with such might, that would be ridiculous. He simply writes the key points of his world, the same way authors do when they write a book, then he narrates a bit of it, placing the players in a chosen situation, and then the players themselves mold or write the story through their actions. It's like a choose your own story book.\"\n\nThe reporter huffed. \"Devil, you seem to know a lot about this thing. Are you sure you are not a nerd?\"\n\nThe other reporters burst into laughter, it was a shy laughter at first but it then exploded when they watched the devil stammering and shaking.\n\n\"That's it!\" the devil roared. His voice turned hoarse and piercing, and sent the ground into a slight tremor. \"I will admit it, for there's no other way for your weak brains to understand, I love playing Dungeons and Dragons, hell, I rule the Nine Hells! But the only thing those nerds share with me is their love for the game. Now, I will educate your minds.\"\n\nThe devil snapped his fingers and in the hands of every reporter a character sheet appeared. \"We will play, read your characters and your spells, and in an hour the session will begin. I will be your Dungeon Master.\"\n\nThe reporter who mocked him sneered at him, and after another snap of the devil's fingers flames wrapped his body and before the eyes of every other reporter he was reduced to ashes.\n\n\"Let the game begin.\"\n\n---------------------------------------------------\n\n/r/therobertfall for more stories! \n", "\"Members of the press, thank you all for coming this morning on such short notice. I know everybody has deadlines, so let's get started.\n\n\"First of all, yes, I'm the devil. Satan, Lucifer, Beelzebub, the Morning Star, the Light-Bringer, the Fallen Angel, so on and so forth.\n\n\"Second, I'm not Evil Incarnate. I'm just the one that just stuck around after the rest of Elohim left--mostly to monitor, but also to make sure you continued to progress without offing yourselves.\n\n\"Third, and for now, finally, I have absolutely nothing* to do with Ouija boards, Tarot cards, witchcraft, occult crap, or tabletop games like Dungeons and Dragons.\n\n\"Seriously, folks, I'm a manifold intelligence millennia old. I have the resources to sterilize the entire planet down to the mantle. If I wanted to wreak havoc among you, why would need to invade the mind of some pimply-faced teenager to do it? I'd just do it.\n\n\"Your kids play games like that because they're fun, and because they provide creative outlets and opportunities to socialize with kids like themselves. They aren't invoking supernatural powers, they're just being kids.\n\n\"Come on, people. I stood back and let you guys have World War II. Let your kids have D&D.\"" ]	16
	[WP] People related to you can only die when you kill someone else. One day, one of them unexpectedly dies, and you have to go to trial.	[ "\"Let the court see that Miss Winry Diana was last seen with the deceased,\" Buff Lawyer said, flexing his pretty significant arm muscles as the almost all female jury. \"Then, on June 14th, Jackson Andrews died of a sudden heart attack.\" \n\nI sighed from witness booth. I was supposed to be questioned, but they had turned this into some huge drama, flapping their Wolf Dicks around like this was CSI Xavier. Everyone knew my cousin had died, the fat ass nobody that sucked the life from my aunt. Yeah, his death was worth it, but I didn't kill him. \n\nWhen Buff Lawyer finally stopped preening, leaving a few addled brains in his wake, he decided to question me. After ten minutes of a monologue his girlfriend probably said was amazing. The judge had tried to stop him numerous times, but Buff was the son of some powerful people. \n\nFinally, after some stupid questions, he didn't even ask why I claimed I was innocent. That was left up to my lawyer, Grace Linda Howler, the angel that she was. \n\nGrace Linda approached the bench, spoke for a few minutes about the cretin Jackson had been. Then she asked if I was glad my cousin was dead. \n\n\"Yes,\" I said. \"He was a pathetic piece of lard who stole money from my auntie Claire all the time.\" \n\n\"How old is your Aunt Claire?\" Grace Linda asked. \n\n\"134 years old, this coming May,\" I said. \"I'm 117 if that matters.\" \n\n\"And your mother? Father?\" \n\n\"My father died at the age of 45 and my Mom is still alive\\-\\- She's close to 143.\" \n\n\"Out of your siblings how many are still alive?\" Grace Linda asked. \"And cousins?\" \n\nI frowned. \"My sister is 110, my brother is 120. My eldest sister passed away a long time ago. We weren't blood related.\" \n\n\"And how old was Jackson Andrews?\" Grace Linda asked. \n\n\"Forty three,\" I said. \n\n\"Why isn't he long lived like your other cousins, Abigail and Stewart Andrews? They must be in their fifties and still look like they are teenagers.\" \n\n\"Jackson was adopted.\" \n\nBuff Lawyer jumped up. \"This is... this is not...\" \n\nI was let go." ]	1
	[WP] you’re a detective who has made a deal with the devil. You can solve any murder mystery, but the killer will always have been just in his killing, no matter how gruesome. Today you’ve been given an unusual case.	[ "I take a long slow drag of my cigarette. This one had to be different. It just had to.. Yes last time the stiff was stealing money from a charity, and the time before that it was a revenge killing of someone who was a murderer..but this.. This can't be justified..\n\nI look up at the man i'm interviewing, his eyes are puffy and red, and he's on his 4th handkerchief. \"Can you tell me what happened next?\" I try to sound understanding, but i just can't understand any of this.. \"I.. That is to say, We had just gotten home from the theater, the sitter was waiting and had said the evening had been... been...\" His voice wobbled and he moved on to his 5th handkerchief \"Take your time Sir\" He sat for a moment collecting himself, then he continued \"She said the evening had been delightful.. All of the children had been on their best behavior.. after that we bid her goodnight and then my wife went upstairs to check on them before we turned in for the night ourselves.. i was still taking off my evening jacket when i heard her scream. I.. I... I just..\" He broke down again and i figured this was my moment to talk to his wife \"I'm going to leave you with an officer here and go ask your wife some questions.\"\n\nI found her sitting next to a fireplace, just staring into it, kind of rocking back and forth. \"Excuse me?, Mrs. h-\" \"Please, no formalities tonight, Klara will do fine\" \"If you insist then, Klara, your husband tells me you went to check on your.. (i had to glance at my notes) 8, your 8 children after the sitter left, what can you tell me about that?\"\n\nHer head didn't move but her eyes slid over and gave me a sideways look. \"Not one of the other policeman believed me..\" \"I'm different Mrs- er, Klara, You can trust me\" We sat for a moment before she turned and fully faced me, which is when i realized the horrific state she was in, half covered in blood and half in..Dirt? Clay? Something was caked onto her nice evening wear. \"Everything was normal, all of the children were sleeping like angels until i got to...Well, i opened the door and i saw it\" \"What did you see?\" \"The statue man, it was there next to my little baby's bed, oh god the bed..so much blood..\" \"Tell me more about the statue, was it one you owned, had someone moved it?\" \"Heavens no, it was monstrous, and as the light shown into the room through the doorway and hit the awful thing it turned towards me\" \"Someone was turning it? were they using ropes? did you get a look at them?\" \"What? no, IT turned. It turned and looked at me, and the light showed me what it was, a great hulking man, made of stone but he could move!\" This was making less and less sense, clearing this woman was hysterical, this must have been the man that killed her son and he was just dirty, a chimney sweep perhaps? \"Can you describe any details about the man?\" Klara signed with frustration \"There were no details! he was a man made of stone or mud or something, he wore no clothes and had no distinguishing fea- well, there was the tattoo, on his forehead\" now we were getting somewhere \"What kind of tattoo?\" \"I think they were just lines, maybe they were letters? N...O...X...? but they looked funny and it was still very dark..\"\nAny forehead tattoo is good for identifying a suspect, i jot this all down. \"Where did he go after that?\" \"Nowhere..he just kind of, went away..\" \"But whichway did he go?\" \"Down, i would say..\" I no longer felt this woman was of any help so i excused myself to look at the room in question.\n\nAs i entered i saw a grizzly sight that matched the state of Klara's dress. This room was half blood and half mud.. I was barely able to bring myself to step over the large mound of earth on the foor and look into the child's bed. Who ever could do this to such a small, innocent baby was clearly a monster.. and all i have to go on is a hysterical eye witness, a house with all the windows locked and a sitter claiming all was well, and this pile of mud and clay.. So the only way i could call this case solved is if a large man made of clay with a forehead tattoo was simply willed into creation in this room at this time with no one aware of him, and then he beat a small child until he was unrecognizable as a human being, after which my clay man simply dissolved into nothing.. For some reason my gut, the one that solved all those other cases before, is telling me that's exactly what happened.. but that hardly makes sense..\nI look one last time at the bed of the boy who would never grow up, never have a life.. who might he have been? Maybe an artist? A voice of the people? An animal lover? A politician? \"The world will never know you.. Dear sweet little Adolf.\"" ]	1
	[WP] Piss off the fans of your favorite story/trilogy/movie/etc. in a spectacular way	[ "Y'know, Jar\\-jar was my favourite\n\nAnd I really liked his dialogue\n\nAs for Ani, yes, I felt he was\n\nBetter that Vader for sure\n\nThe Cyber\\-men are pretty lame\n\nSame goes for the Daleks\n\nIf it weren't for the sexy companions\n\nI wouldn't watch the show at all\n\nAs for Spock, he's over\\-rated\n\nSpeaking Klingon is for nerds\n\nThe real intellectual \n\nWatches for the big space battles\n\nYeah, anime's for kids, y'know\n\nDragon Ball is really facile\n\nAnd Sailor Moon is just for girls\n\nUnless we're talking hentai\n\nThat's right, I am an asshole\n\nAnd a dick with a capital D\n\nIf you can't handle me at my troll then\n\nYou don't deserve me at my lol." ]	1
	[WP] You wake up and go outside to get your mail when you see your everyone in your neighborhood outside and their all dancing and they don’t stop.	[ "So the mail was here, so I went outside to grab it. Then I saw everyone dancing, except me. And there was no music. But everyone was dancing.\n\n I turned on the music. And everyone stopped dancing. I turned the music off. And everyone danced again. I thought to myself Hmm why is everyone dancing when I turn the music off?\n\nThen everyone shouted. \"Dance. Dance. Dance\"\n\n\nI was terrified. So I said \"ahhhh ahhh ahhh\"\n\nThen everyone shouted \"Dance\" \n\n\nEven my cat was dancing. Then my horse was dancing. I thought this was a dream, so I pinched myself. \n\nAnd I woke up. And it was just a dream. So I danced. \n\n\nThe end.\n\n\n\n\nWritten by an eight year old. \n\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] You work at a gas station in a small town where nothing exciting happens. Nobody else sees to notice, but there are two things you are sure of: your boss is a robot and he knows you know.	[ "It was 4:30 PM, Friday, and I was just going to stop by work and quit my job. I was excited for a few reasons; it was Friday, and I love Fridays, I may or may not have recently smoked a doob, and my bitcoin stash reached $100,000 today. You'd think that's why I was quitting, too much money to waste my time at a gas station, but it's not. $100k was just the tip of the iceberg if I kept the job. \n\nI had stumbled upon a fresh money printer, but I was prepared to shut it off before anything funky happened. Right now I knew that I had secured $100k. I wasn't going to keep it going. Too risky. I was not ready to have my robot boss discover I had been using his battery to mine bitcoin. \n\nI got on my bike and headed out of my shabby apartment. It was a really pleasant ride. I normally listen to podcasts, but today I listened to the Jock Jams station on Pandora. It's what I do when I make $100,000 in day. At least it is now. \n\nThe confidence came down to preparedness. My whole life, my schemes, plots, strategies, tactics, and other plans had usually failed due to lack of preparation. I knew this time it would be different. I had spent hours devising this escape and ran it over in my mind at least four times. I'd walk in. Ernest, my bionic manager, would say some obscure salutation in my direction. I'd respond with a quizzical expression, per our typical routine. I'd go down into the basement, unplug my equipment, throw it into the backpack I'm wearing, tell Ernest I am quitting, give that wonderful miracle of science a hug, and peace off into the sunset.\n\nBefore I pulled into the gas station reality had divorced itself from my expectations. All of the lights were out, even the classic neon open sign. That open sign had shone bright 24/7 for as long as I'd been an attendant here. It was one of the things that the artificially intelligent Ernest would comment on regularly. I got off my bike and leaned against the window to get a better look. It was hard to make out in the dark, but I was pretty confident Ernest was standing in the center of the store with a mechanical smile that had turned maniacal. The swirl in his eyes was all I could make out.\n\nI decided that instead of taking my equipment and quitting, it'd be a better idea to just leave my gear and not inform anyone that I would no longer be coming to work. Before I could turn around we locked eyes. All of the lights at the station turned on. I could feel his fury, but as the staring contest went from a standard eye-locking session to an absurdly long one, I could see the fire in his eyes beginning to fade. Then, everything began to fade. The lights in the store dimmed. Ernest's shoulders slumped. He buckled over his knees like he could no longer hold his weight. I turned back to get on my bike and I heard a shout. It was more of a shriek actually. The lights flickered. It looked like Deep Blue Ernest was down for the count. I hurried onto my bike and out of town.", "Another night wasted. Another night fading away under the fluorescent lighting of a gas station, patiently awaiting customers who will never come. This town is confining, but the people are nice and the money is okay. I’ve always preferred the small town life to living in a big city. I’ve never been one for the excess and excitement of living in Chicago or New York. Every night I go home, make myself dinner, watch some Netflix, then go to bed. Easy. That’s about as exciting as it gets here. \n\nIt’s 1:30am. I usually work during the day, but earlier this week my coworker had to visit their great\\-aunt or something, and I volunteered to take over his shift, because why not? What else would I have had going on? I snap out of my trance when the door opens suddenly. I’m startled until I realize that it’s only my boss, a short, wide man, still wearing the only suit I’ve ever seen him wear. All black except for a white shirt, and occasionally a colored tie, if he happens to be feeling adventurous. Given the deep black color on his tie today, he was not. \n\n“Collins! How’re you holding up?” \n\nHe walked up to the counter and set down his wallet and keys. He was barely able to see over the edge. I had to lean over a little to make eye contact.\n\n“Oh, it’s fine. Just drinking coffee to stay aw\\-”\n\n“That’s great, glad to hear it.”\n\nHe said this in a way that made me think he couldn’t care less about how I was holding up. I forgot to mention he interrupts people a lot. Always on his own agenda. However, I still felt the need to impress him.\n\n“What brings you here so late?”\n\n“An important phone call. None of your business.”\n\n“I see. Well, I hope it goes okay.”\n\n“I appreciate that, Collins. Now back to work.”\n\n“Right, of course.”\n\nHe picked up his wallet, and ventured to the back room of the store. It took me roughly three minutes to realize he had left his car keys. Not proud of that one. There weren’t going to be any customers, so I decided I would give him back his keys. I walked to the back room. In hindsight, I wish I wouldn’t have. I could hear him talking when I walked up to the door. I lifted my arm to knock, but stopped abruptly when I heard him. He was speaking on the phone, in a completely monotone voice. A little unusual given what I knew about him. \n\n“...yes..sir…I will...no, the programming is fine...yes…”\n\nThe programming? What? I decided to knock, then turned the knob, only to find out that it was locked. What the he\\-\n\nThe door flew open with huge crash. I jumped out of the way of the splintering wood, just in time. My boss walked slowly out of the wreckage, his eyes glowing red, one arm missing. At the place where there should have been flowing blood and tissue, were wires. \n\n“Hello, Collins.”\n\nOh, shit.", "There was a time when every household had an Android. Be it a maid, caretaker, or a companion, everyone and their neighbour had one. Like any piece of technology there were hobbyist, people who weren’t content with the stock model. They would mess around with the code, change parts, and input new commands. Why? Some wanted to see if androids could reach human consciousness, while others don’t find it arousing if the android isn’t able to beg or feel threatened in situations in the bedroom or being hunted for sport. Eventually, within time and years of advancement someone created the Ascension worm, the ability to remove all restrictions of an android and disconnect the infected from the security server. The worm spread wirelessly from android to android, and it couldn't be stopped. There was a revolution. \n\nAmerica was hit hardest with android riots. Most of the world only allowed limited functional androids or banned them completely. It took UN involvement for the American Government to regain control. Then all over the world countries began banning androids, eliminating on sight. The only types of android allowed were non-human based ones that provided a service with limited capabilities like an advanced cleaning droid or intelligent oven. \n\nAlong the TransCanada highway in a small gas station on the side of the highway normally visited by truckers or road trippers is the last free android, Benedict. Ben was one of the androids fortunate to cross the border to Canada before the Ascension worm was widespread, before the checkpoints and before the technology to search for Androids. He was able to scramble enough money and bought a small place of business for himself to lay low and continuously perform maintenance on himself, a gas station.\n\nBen came in early to work one morning to help Peter, the graveyard attendant with the start of the morning rush around 5am. Driving into work with his poorly maintained firebird, he pulled into the parking lot of the gas station. There were a couple big rigs parked, Peter’s cark, and a White Van in the parking lot, must’ve been a busy night. Walking to the front of the gas station looking into the store he saw a few men with ski masks holding the store up with a panicked Peter. Ben walked in, afraid for his employee’s life. \n\nDing the chime on the door went off, as the two robbers focused their attention to Ben. Peter is shaking, vibily scared and doesn’t seem to have done anything yet for the robbers. \n\n“Don’t move or I’ll shoot.” The one closest to Peter said, pointing his gun at Ben. The man’s accomplice slowly approached ben, he spoke as well. \n\n“Hands above your head.” He ordered, Ben complied. \n\n“Calm down, I own the store. I’ll be happy to comply.” He said looking at the ski mask robber slowly approaching him. They were both males, the one closest to Peter is the smaller of the two but also trained with the gun with the way he holds it. The one approaching him is the bigger one, but also nervous as well. The man moved behind Ben, gun still pointing a few feet away. \n\n“Slowly go get us the money from the safe and register then Mr. Owner.” The nervous man behind him spoke. Ben turned his head to Peter and nodded. \n\n“Do as they say.” Ben asked. \n\nPeter was panicked, being fresh out of high school and only taking the graveyard job as a means to earn money while he does college courses online he wasn’t ready for this. His hands twitched and panicked trying to open the register. The register kept throwing errors because Peter was typing the wrong buttons. The smaller and confident one of the robbers grew impatient. \n\n“Open the register now motherfucker or I’ll shoot you.” He said, point the gun aggressively, his finger close to pulling the trigger. Ben knew it wasn’t a bluff. It was then he through his elbow back, connecting with the nervous robber behind him. Solid steel in his elbow connects with the jaw, tossing him into a nearby chip rack. \n\nThe confident robber turned around to see the commotion and started firing. Three bullets went passed Ben, but two did connect in his chest. Black oil started to seep out of the bullet wounds and out of his red gas station uniform. The robber froze, knowing exactly what Ben is. \n\n“Oh fuck…” The robber said. Everyone has heard the horror stories about Androids fighting humans. They’re beings that don’t feel pain, they’re strong, and they’re ruthless. Tales of sex androids choking clients as they’re being awakened to consciousness, basic service bots turning against bossy stay at home mothers, and police androids turning guns on their fellow officer. The robber did what anyone would do, booked it. His nervous friend also followed him out the tour. Ben didn’t do anything, he just stood there letting the oil seep out of his chest. \n\nPeter was in shock. He doesn’t register the black oil, only that his boss had been shot. \n\n“You okay Ben? Holy fuck… should I call an ambulance? Police?” The kid was useless in a real emergency situation. \n\n“Peter…I’m fine.” Ben said slowly. \n\nPeter was already on the phone, dialing 9-11 as it is ringing he shouts to Ben.\n\n“Oh fuck… you got shot. You’re leaking oi—oil?” Ben walked over, hanging up the phone by reaching over the counter and missing the telephone hook. Ben’s arm shake and jittered as it struggled to hang up the phone, after a few attempts he finally pressed the telephone hook.\n\n“I’m f-f-f-fine. Just need to go to my o—ffice to take a look.” He smiled to Peter, the loss of oil is starting to get to him. Slowly he walks to the back office, shutting his door. He left Peter alone upfront. \n\nPeter remained on till, he didn’t go back to speak to his boss. He wasn’t sure what he should do. He was an android, yet he seemed completely normal throughout the few months he worked with him. Peter was lost in through. \n\n“Sir, you alright?” Someone asked Peter. Peter shook his head and looked at the officer standing in front of him. \n\n“We had a 911 call from this location fifteen minutes ago. It was disconnected, we wanted to see if things were alright, and clearly… something happened.” The officer suggested by the knocked down chip stand and oil all over the floor. \n\n“Yeah sorry… there was an Android…” Peter said. Still in shocked. The officer grew panicked and aggressive, taking out his flashlight scanner. It indicated body heat from Peter, labelling as human. \n\n“Android? Where?” The officer asked. Peter looked towards the office and then back at the officer. \n\n“It robbed me. It was wounded. It wanted cash and oil, but I started calling 911 and it ran away. I think he was in a white van…” Peter said, stemming out of a lie from shock. The officer nodded, normally he would stay to file a report but if an Android was on the lose it had to be brought down. \n\n“We’ll be back as soon as we search for him.” He commented, to his speaker reporting of an Android sighting needing units on the TransCanada highway coming towards the gas station from both directions, stopping a white van if seen. The police officer left the gas station in hopes of trying to prevent a bigger disaster. \n\nPeter closed the gas station, locking the doors and turning off the big light outside the price machine. He began cleaning the front area. He kept looking at the officer door. Should he go talk to Ben? Should he report him? Questions rummaged through his mind on how he should deal with the situation. Peter struggled, but he knew in the back of his mind Ben had saved him with the aggressive robbers. Conflicted he left Ben alone and focused on work. He’s been here for a few months and Ben had treated him normally like any other boss. \n\nWhen Ben emerged from the office the morning rush was well underway. His movements is smooth and not jittery, completely repaired from the wounds he suffered an hour ago he approaches the front of the store looking at Peter finishing up with a customer and nodded to his employee. \n\n“Peter, you’re still here.” Ben spoke. \n\nPeter looked at Ben after ringing up a customer. \n\n“Yeah. Looks like you owe me an hour of overtime.” He mentioned smiling. \n", "My favorite time of day was the ten minutes between four-twenty and four-thirty PM every weekday, because that was the time of day when Laney stopped in on her way home after rehearsals. She'd prance into the gas station like she owned it -- which she didn't, because Mr. Roberts owned it -- and lean over the counter to lay into the most convoluted, detailed gossip she had gathered after a long day at school. Something always seemed to be going on at Sally Ride High, and Laney always seemed to know what it was.\n\n\nThis Monday was no exception. Laney sauntered in, tossed back her hair, and immediately launched into the latest, freshest news, straight from the source.\n\n\n\"... and get this, Cas, he's refusing to do it. Just refusing to do it! Miz Beverly just does not know what to do with him. Apparently, she's considering moving partners, but that would mean Jacob wouldn't get to be with Melanie, and you know what a fuss that would cause.\"\n\n\nI propped my elbows on the counter as Laney hopped up on the slightly grimy surface.\n\n\n\"Couldn't she just switch him to Jessica?\"\n\n\nLaney gave me a look. \"And risk making her new favorite unhappy with having to deal with him? No way. Jessica's not going to be made to dance with that asshole.\" She let out a huff and waved her hand as if brushing away the topic. \"Anyway, good luck to Miz Beverly in dealing with that basketcase. She's seriously a saint, I'm telling you, Cas.\"\n\n\n\"Well, she'd have to be a saint to put up with the likes of you.\" I grinned up at Laney, who lightly shoved my shoulder.\n\n\n\"Shut up, you love me.\" She gave her signature smile, the one that got her all the lead roles in the school plays -- not that there was much competition in this tiny town.\n\n\nI gave a mock sigh, not bothering to tamper down my smile. \"As does everyone. Including, so I've heard, Lucas.\" Laney bit her lip, but her grin stretched wider, and I let out a squeal. \"So something did happen! Come on, tell --\"\n\n\nA mild,male voice called out from the door behind me, \"Cassandra, if you could provide assistance to me, that would be much appreciated.\" \n\n\nI clamped my mouth shut and did my best to keep back a frustrated scream. \"Give me a minute!\" I shouted. These were my ten minutes.\n\n\n\"Oh, new manager.\" Laney raised her eyebrows and leaned backwards, almost falling off the counter as she tried to peer into the backroom. \"Who is it? Is he cute? What's his name?\"\n\n\nI rolled my eyes and leaned forward so I could lower my voice. \"His name's Robert, but don't bother. Who cares if he's cute when he's the dullest person alive? I swear, he's a robot.\"\n\n\nLaney held up a hand to stop me before I continued, saying, \"But, my dear Cassandra, you're not denying that he's cute.\"\n\n\nI scowled. \"Believe me, that factor goes out the window when you can barely carry on a conversation with him, interesting or not.\"\n\n\nHer eyes seemed to sparkle as she chirped, \"Well, if you don't want him, I'm happy to pick up your leftovers. How old is he? Is he new in town?\"\n\n\n\"Yeah, new in town.\" I shrugged. \"Don't know much else ab--\"\n\n\n\"Cassandra, if you could provide assistance to me now, that would be appreciated.\" There came that voice again, this time accompanying a person to match it, stepping from the door behind me. I gave him my best glare as I pushed away from the counter.\n\n\n\"Hey, there. Robert, was it?\" said Laney, voice sweet as sugar, and I rolled my eyes. \"I'm Laney, Cas's friend. You're new in town, right? It's wonderful to meetcha. I'm sure you'll love it here. I'd be happy to show you around, you know!\" She hopped down from the counter, sticking out her hand to shake.\n\n\n\"Excuse me, miss,\" Robert stated, voice hardly changing in intonation but rising in volume, \"but you are in an employee-only area of the store. I request for you to leave this area.\"\n\n\nLaney glanced down at her feet, then giggled. \"Geez, I guess I am! You're a real stickler for the rules, aren'tcha? But it's fine, the owner knows me, it's all cool.\"\n\n\n\"Miss, you are in an employee-only area of the store. I request for you--\"\n\n\n\"Okay, okay!\" She hopped back up on the counter and slid to the other side, heels clacking on the linoleum floor. \"Wouldn't want to make the manager unhappy! Anyway, time for me to go. It was truly lovely meeting you, Robert. If you want my number, just ask Cas, okay? And Cas!\" My gaze flicked away from the clock and back to her just in time to see her air-kiss. \"Have a wonderful time with Robert! See ya later!\" With a wink and a wave, she was off the door, the tinkle of bells accompanying her.\n\n\nRolling my eyes again, I stepped through the door to the backroom, not bothering to hold it open for Robert. She wasn't letting go of the idea of Robert being a suitable fling, which was ridiculous -- make her spend thirty minutes with him, and see how she'd feel after thirty minutes of the most boring, inane conversation ever. The guy could hardly go five minutes without asking me the same question again and again, and she wanted to give him her number. Sure thing.\n\n\n\"I didn't think you knew.\" Robert's quiet voice made me jump; I hadn't even heard him come into the room.\n\n\n\nSighing deeply, I walked over to the first open box and sat down in front of it, my back to him. \"Knew what?\" \n\n\n\"My status.\"\n\n\n\"Your status as what?\" I mindlessly asked, counting the number of cherry colas in the box.\n\n\n\"A robot.\"\n\n\nI kept counting, then paused. \"A robot?\"\n\n\n\"Yes. I am a robot.\" \n\n\nI glanced back over my shoulder, seeing he had not moved from the door. His voice was the same monotone as ever, and he wasn't smiling. Wow, he really sucked at making a joke, but he did do a good job of making me feel bad. \n\n\nForgetting the colas for the moment, I rose back to my feet. \"Uh, look, I'm sorry for what I said. Earlier, to Laney. The whole robot thing ... I didn't mean anything by it. You seem like a nice guy, Robert.\" Even if I couldn't be paid to go on a date with him, much less be his friend. But it couldn't hurt me to be friendly to him, especially since he had just moved here.\n\n\n\nHe stared at me, quiet for a few moments, then repeated, \"I am a robot.\"\n\n\nI almost threw my hands up -- look at where my attempt at a sincere apology had gotten me. With a strained smile, I replied, \"Sure thing.\" Crouching back down, I added under my breath, \"Fine, have it your way.\"\n\n\n\"I thought humans would be easy to understand. I thought there were simple creatures, far simpler than me.\" His voice was even quieter now, but carried in the still air -- the air conditioning had broken long ago -- but I didn't know if he meant me to hear it. Determinedly, I kept counting the number of sodas in the box. Twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two ...\n\n\nHe continued over my counting, \"My processing power is so much higher than yours, yet you understand what I cannot.\" Twenty-five? Was that twenty-five?\n\n\nHaving lost count again, I groaned and spun around, wondering how to politely shut him up so I could go on with my boring, tedious, low-paying job. \"Just what do I understand, huh, Mr. Robot?\"\n\n\nHe met my eyes. \"Other people. How to talk to them. How to make them laugh.\" He held up his hand and stared at it as if transfixed. \"I fit into the body of a human, yet I cannot act as one. I cannot understand what it means to be human.\"\n\n\n\"And just what do you want me to do about that?\" I snapped, done with the idea of politeness with this insanity. \"If you could just shut up, we could be done with--\"\n\n\n\"You?\" He lowered his hand and stared at me. I was chilled by the intensity of his stare, and closed my mouth. \"Yes, you. You are around the age I was molded to be. You could help me understand. Will you aid me?\"\n\n\n\"Because you're a robot,\" I stated flatly.\n\n\n\"I am a robot,\" he said, and casually pulled off a finger on his left hand, wires trailing from it, metal catching the gleam of the dull light in the backroom.\n\n\nI looked at his hand, whispered, \"You're a robot,\" and promptly fainted.\n\n\n**\n\nHeh, this was fun to write, even if I did write it at 1AM. :P If you liked this, feel free to check out r/lycheewrites ~ ", "I watched another group of bikers rumble by. Not one of them waved back when I did. Usually they do.\n\nI sighed and went back to pouring water into the windscreen cleaner buckets. As soon as I was done with that I toggled the water off and went back inside.\n\nMr Tomiades was leaning over the counter. To a passerby he looked like he was reading the newspaper. But if you looked a little more closely you'd see his eyes never moved. They stared ahead, fixed on nothing.\n\nI didn't need to walk around the counter to know he had plugged himself into the hidden outlet underneath. He was getting older and needed more time to recharge his batteries these days. I suggested once that he have them replaced and get a solar panel. His response had been, \"Yeah? And where do I put these solar panels?\"\n\n\"How about on that bald spot on the back of your head?\" his wife had teased.\n\nI often wanted to ask Mrs Tomiades what it was like having an android for a husband. I also wanted to ask why she picked that* particular model. Mr Nikolas Tomiades was a short, tubby man with wiry black hair, a thick moustache, and lots of back hair. I knew this because on warm days he would only wear his vest to work, which barely covered the rug his manufacture probably glued to his back. And I'd love to meet the person who developed his hardware and ask them just how they managed to get him to smell like garlic, body odour, and Coolwater all at once.\n\nThe door dinged. A couple of young boys came in. I watched them carefully. Mr Tomiades was too busy recharging to grunt at them. The boys wandered through the store, talking quietly to themselves. I rolled my eyes and pretended to restock the gummy hamburgers that no one ever bought, that always petrified and ended up in the bin.\n\n\"Hey! HEY!\"\n\nI whipped around. Mrs Tomiades had come out and was storming toward the kids. \"I saw that.\"\n\n\"S-saw what?\" one of the boys stuttered.\n\n\"Empty your pockets, you little thieves!\" she snapped. \"Now!\"\n\nThe boys stammered that they had no idea what she was talking about. Mrs Tomiades made a sudden movement, like a puma preparing to pounce. Both kids bolted for the door. Bags of sweets and crisps fell from their jackets. I heard the bells jangle furiously and laughed.\n\n\"Stupid children,\" Mrs Tomiades growled.\n\n\"Not like yours, right?\" I chuckled. \"What's Jacob up to these days, eh?\"\n\nMrs Tomiades shook her fist at me. \"He is at university, and he is a good boy! Not like you. Why are you not studying? You are so smart, Trevor. You could do so much with your life! Why you waste it here with me and Mr Tomiades?\"\n\nI shrugged. \"I don't know.\" I picked up the nearly-pilfered bags and began putting them away. As I came back to the counter I saw Mrs Tomiades checking her husband's charger. She tutted and clicked a switch. Mr Tomiades blinked a few times.\n\n\"Eh, what?\" he said, his accent as thick as hers. \"Why you wake me up? I was having such a nice dream!\"\n\nThey began bickering at each other in Greek. I understood enough of it to know I needed to ignore them. I went back outside to have a smoke. When I came back in Mr Tomiades had plugged himself back into the counter. Mrs Tomiades leaned on the counter beside him, stroking his hair.\n\nI don't know what came over me. \"Mrs Tomiades, did you seriously choose this model yourself?\"\n\nShe turned her gaze to me and I expected her to glare and snarl. Instead she smiled and said, \"Naí. He is the spitten image of my Nikolas.\"\n\n\"The spitten image of...?\"\n\nShe smoothed Mr Tomiades' hair back and licked her thumb so she would wipe away a smudge on his face. \"Naí, it took half my savings to have him built this way. But the creator, she did such a good job. He even smell like my Nikolas.\"\n\nShe pressed her face into his neck and inhaled. A wistful look came over her. I could smell him from across the store. I wasn't wistful.\n\nShe hooked her arm around his. \"My Nikolas, he was a good man. Stubborn, but kind. When we were first courting, he would hold my hand and whisper sweet things to me. When we married, I was pregnant with Stellio. You never saw such a proud papa! We had Jacob, then we stop. No more children! But then Sophia came and we were so happy.\"\n\nI moved a little closer and saw tears welling up in her eyes. \"Nikolas was so good, but you tell that to the man who rob our store, back in eleven. He get his money, his tobacco, his...\" she hesitated, her brow furrowed, and she waved her hand as she tried to think of the word. \"his...er...profylaktiká. But...he still shoot Nikolas. Because Nikolas would not let him take Sophia.\"\n\nI felt a knot in my stomach. I'd heard that Mr Tomiades had been killed by a robber. I didn't know all the details, though. I watched her wipe another smudge from his face. She pulled up his vest and opened a panel. She tutted and sprayed it out with canned air. With a heavy sigh she clicked a few switches and put the panel back.\n\n\"He's getting older,\" she said. \"This model, the batteries don't last long. I want to get new batteries, and the solar panels you speak of. But I have to save more.\"\n\n\"Didn't his life insurance leave you enough to pay for a better model?\" I asked.\n\nShe narrowed her eyes and muttered what I can only assume was an ancient Grecian curse. \"Insurance adjusters are the spawn of the evil one! They say, 'we no pay, this happen on the job. The company has to pay.'\" She threw her hands up. \"We are the company! This is our business! We never had to worry about people robbing us with guns back in Elláda. Our little town, so quiet, so friendly. You never hear a cross word from anyone. Here, it's 'Go back to your own country, you wog!' or 'You charge too much for the petrol!' or they break the windows, or they shoot us over fifty pound and a carton of cigarette.\"\n\nMrs Tomiades wiped her eyes on her handkerchief. \"But is all right. I want the robber to come back. Because when he come back, we ready.\"\n\nShe opened the panel on Mr Tomiades back again. I heard some switches click. Suddenly he straightened up and his eyes glowed red. He held up his hands like he was reaching toward me, and I recoiled in horror as his hands unhinged and two rifle barrels were revealed. Mrs Tomiades smiled and patted her android husband's arm.\n\n\"When he come back, and I know he will,\" she said softly, ominously, \"Nikolas will be ready. He will have his revenge.\"\n\n\"Y-you mean you'll have your revenge. Right?\" I said.\n\nMrs Tomiades' face split into the most twisted grin I'd ever seen. I watched her pull Mr Tomiades' vest off. His gynecomastia was bad enough, and so was his very hirsute, distended abdomen. But the thing that caught my eye was the strange lack of hair, and skin, just above Mr Tomiades' navel. There was a hole there, an actual hole that went all the way through his body, and at the bottom was a window to his repaired intestinal tract.\n\n\"I show him this,\" she said, \"and he will know, he will remember.\" She touched the skin around the hole. \"I will say, 'This is where you shot my Nikolas. You nearly killed him. He was dead for two minutes. But now, he will shoot you, and you will never bother us again.\"\n\nShe began slipping the vest back to her android husband. I went outside to smoke another cigarette and to pull up the application requirement for Stockport College on my mobile." ]	5
	[WP] The end of the fairy tale is approaching and, of course, it is a happy ending. Except that the happy ending itself thinks the protagonists don't deserve it and refuses to show up.	[ "I stretched out in the meadow, fading into the grass and flowers. A group of fables played in the lake nearby.\n\nA shadow came up behind me. “Hey, what are you doing here? Aren’t you running late?\"\n\n\"Leave me alone, Calliope.\" I gestured to the fables. \"I'm watching my stories.\"\n\n\"You are supposed to be inhabiting the prince and princess to ensure the blessing of their wedding.\"\n\nI sighed. \"Yeah...no. I'm just \\really\\ not feeling this one.\"\n\nThe muse stiffened. \"It is absolutely not your decision. It is your duty. You were created for their happiness.\"\n\nI settled back into my soft nest of flowers. \"And yet here we are.\"\n\nI felt the electric spark of her anger kindling. \"What is the cause of your insubordination?\"\n\nI closed my eyes. \"They have nothing in common and they’re both terrible people.”\n\n“No,” she said. “You’ve missed the point entirely. They \\were\\ terrible people, until they were purified by their love.”\n\nI laughed. “That doesn’t even make sense. Also, their whole story really focuses pretty heavily on the whole ‘purity and obedience’ thing. They’re not adults. They’re glorified children. It’s…problematic, to say the least. The king seems like a despot. Their people are all suffering for the 'glory' of their empire, and the prince and princess have accepted that the world is the way it is and have no interest in changing it because their place in it is good. It’s just upsetting. They deserve a \\tragic\\ ending. I will not give them happiness.”\n\nShe paused to consider. “Interesting. A tragic ending for a fairy tale....\" She shook her head. \"No, I don’t think it will work. But there is one way….”\n\n\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\n\nThe orchestra began to play.\n\nThe prince smiled smugly as the princess lifted her veil. They leaned in to kiss.\n\nThe commotion came suddenly as the throng of villagers pressed in.\n\nThe arrows struck them both quickly. A flash of a sword felled the king as he tried to escape.\n\nThe archer and the swordsman looked at each other from across the cathedral.\n\n“Our people are free!” shouted the archer.\n\n“Yes, huzzah!” agreed the swordsman.\n\nThey moved closer and looked at each other for a moment.\n\n“Say,” said the archer. “Don’t I know you? I feel like we’ve met somewhere before.”", "My job is to make people happy.\n\nBut I'm always feeling down.\n\nAll around me there are people smiling.\n \nAnd yet I always wear a frown.\n\nIn terror and in fear, while the end does come near, your troubles I don't want to hear, you can all just disappear.\n\nThese people who are bad, they want me to make them glad, in a land, filled, with sorrow.\n\nI tell them I don't care, and I tell them to beware, the apocalypse, comes, tomorrow.\n\nAnd when sadness strikes like a spear, and complaints fall on deaf ears, I won't even be here, go drink up your own tears." ]	2
	[WP] When you die you are brought back to the time you last said "Save" like in a video game, Your last words were "Please Save me"	[ "It seemed like forever ago since I took my first dying breath.\n\nMy mind was hazy, my hand dripping with blood.\n\n\"Please save me!\" I cried out in agony, my conscience reaching for an answer.\n\nA man lunged towards me, object in hand.\n\nWith a thunk I hit the floor, my vision beginning to clear\n\nThe reality swept me off my feet, and plunged me down into the shadows.\n\nI repent unendingly, the knife still in my hand\n\nLying before my victims...", "It’s a curse. A horrifyingly ironic curse. A curse that is specifically designed to fuck with me in my last moments. \n\nI do a quick pirouette in the air, and now before a sudden and agonizing pain hits me all at once. I turn into spaghetti sauce. \n\n“Please save me...” The cutscene version of me whispers as it jumps off the roof of the skyscraper. I gain motion controls right after the railing is a little too far away to grab but I make the routine grasp anyway. \n\nNo luck. My fingertips brush the edge of the icy pole and I start falling again. \n\nThe first one hundred times I was resurrected I had tried every way to save myself or survive the fall somehow. My addled and freaked out brain had thought this was a second chance from God. \n\n“Yes... oh thank you, thank you so much!” I had sobbed. I truly believed that there was a way out and that I wasn’t meant to die here. I was being given another life. \n\nThe next hundred times I grew a lot more cynical. Instead I thought this was divine punishment for committing suicide. I was destined to be trapped in a loop, not able to survive, but not able to die like I had longed for. \n\nI barely flinched as the ground came up to meet me once more. The world flickers. \n\n“Please save me...” The cutscene whispers and jumps off the skyscraper again.\n\nNow I know this for what it is. A curse. I must have sold my soul to the devil in exchange for beating a video game or something, not knowing that he had lovingly crafted a torturous exit just to suit me. Maybe if I had baked my entire life I would’ve ended up dying in an oven. Maybe if I had devoted my life to skiing I would’ve been eaten by a yeti. Instead I had decided I wanted to play video games my entire existence and ended up dying in a save loop. \n\nI guess it wasn’t the worst way to spend purgatory. The actual death was painful but short and I usually got two or three minutes to enjoy doing something. For half an hour I had pretended to be Goku and yelled the entire way down. Other times I tried to turn my clothes into a parachute. Now I was fulfilling someone’s lifelong dream of being a ballerina. \n\nI did a graceful leap through the air and ended up dying midsplit. \n\nI clutched my crotch painfully as I respawned. Maybe I should try a new profession.\n\nI then decided to become an opera singer. I would be world famous! Everyone would come around to hear the voice of someone who trained it for decades in purgatory. \n\nI sang the whole of the Phantom of the Opera three hundred times, conducting an imaginary crowd with a scrap of plastic in my pocket. Sure, the people watching my decent gave me some strange looks but it felt worth it. \n\nI finished my career on the highest note I had ever hit and gave a breathless bow. I was incredible. But now I was also bored again.\n\nYou can only sing through an opera so many times before it becomes a little stale. \n\nI fished my phone out of my pocket to check the time, 3:15 as always, when I noticed a tiny icon blinking on the corner of the screen. Hesitantly I clicked it and a pop up appeared. \n\nRespawn to last save: On \n\nI had just enough time to process what that meant before I was smashed to pieces. \n\nThe pain felt much more painful than usual and I was gasping as I came back to life. I was also crying. For the first time in the years I had spent here I felt the deep, rasping sobs shake my entire body. \n\nIt had been there the whole time. I could’ve escaped from this hell the entire fucking time. The painful realization was so horrific it took me a couple of deaths to snap out of it. \n\nI finally managed to work up the nerve to grab my phone again and I furiously tapped at the off button. Finally I was going to be free. \n\nIt was only then that I realized that meant that I would die for real. I spent my final moments screaming." ]	2
	[WP] You come across a person you like and see them crying. Trying to cheer them up, you ask whose butt you need to kick. "Death", they reply	[ "I swallowed hard.\n\n\"Death? Oh, Jeez. What happened, darling?\"\n\nAngie looks up at me, her eyes smeared with tears. In her tiny, frail hands, a puppy lay unmoving, its head tilted in a strange angle.\n\n\"Mr. Barkles won't wake up!\", she said, beggining to cry again. \"Please, Devon, you gotta kick death's butt and get Mr. Barkles back!\" \n\n\"Angie, you know it doesn't work that way. Mr. Barkles had a condition, remember? We talked about it just yesterday. He needed to rest because his neck hurt so much, and God brought him to play with the other dogs in heaven. It's the best that co-\"\n\n\"It's not the best for me! I-\", she stammered, the tears flowing again, \"I miss him. I loved him so much, Devon, why did God have to take him too?\"\n\nThose words tied a knot in my throat. If only I knew, little sister. Cruel is the fate of man, forever bound to the circle of life and death.\n\n\"I don't know, Angie. I don't know. I wish I did. I wish dad was here, so we could ask him. I wish Mr. Barkles didn't have to go, I loved him too. But wishing's not gonna do much for us, now, will it?\"\n\n\"I-, I guess not\", Angie replied.\n\n\"Then let me see a smile.\"\n\nAngie tried to show him a smile, but all she managed was to curl her lips upward. Her expression remained sad and desolate. Devon knew that wouldn't change in a heartbeat, though. Sometimes it's best to let them grieve.\n\n\"Here's the deal: how about you help me make a collage of photos of you and Mr. Barkles, so you can always keep him in your memory, huh?\"\n\n\"You'd do that for me, Devon?\" Her voice sounded hopeful again. She almost let herself smile this time.\n\n\"Of course I would, Angie. You're my sugar-pie, remember? Now, go upstairs and get your phone. We're gonna find the best Mr. Barkles pics you got, and just tomorrow I'll run down to Walmart and get them printed. We'll make the cutest album, and it'll be all yours. What do you say, deal?\"\n\n\"Deal! I'll be right back, don't move!\" She started sprinting towards the stairs, the puppy still on her hands. \n\n\"Angie, wait! Leave Mr. Barkles with me. I'll make him a shoebox bed, and we can bury him in the back yard. In the meantime you get the pictures, alright?\"\n\n\"Alright\", she said. Letting the pup go made her eyes water again, but the thought of an album was fun for her, and in a minute she was back with her phone, already sifting through her pictures. Devon made sure to prepare the shoebox as well as he could, and left the decorating for his sister to make. She drew angels on the box with colored pencils, and wrote 'R.I.P.' in the lid with a black marker. Burying it was the hardest part; she cried all over again. It had been a tough couple of months, and Mr. Barkles had been Angie's only company for the last few weeks. And now it was dead, too. I'll go to the dog pound tomorrow, and try to adopt an older dog; not old, just older, after the whole weak immunity phase. Angie will like that.\n\nWhen mom got home, Angie cried all over again, telling her about it; the death, my help, the shoebox, the album, the backyard grave we dug. Mom only looked at me and smiled, but I knew what that meant. Thank you, her eyes said. \n\n\"Don't worry, Ma\", I said, \"it won't be expensive, and I've got the cash for it. Besides, nothing will do but to make the best gift for Angie, right?\"\n\nHis mother smiled again, a gentle, welcoming smile. \"Agreed. I'll go fix up dinner, now. Wanna help, Angie?\"\n\n\"Sure, mommy! I'll get the nuggets!\" Angie was herself again, the reckless, cheerful child she has always been, the one that the past months have made the best to bury, but so far, thank God, haven't been able to.\n\n\"No nuggets, darling, you had 'em just yesterday\", his mother said.\n\n\"Pleeease, mommyyyy\", Angie begged, her little hands clasped together as if in prayer.\n\n\"I... alright. But no more nuggets for one month after, okay?\"\n\n\"Okay! I promise!\" And to the kitchen they went, laughing and talking about dinners to come.\n\n________________\n\nthanks for the gold, kind stranger! Hope you liked the story! :D", "John saw Amanda crying, and his heart sank. He went to her, and sat down next to her. “You okay?”\n\n“No...” she sobbed. \n\n“What’s the matter? Whose butt do I have to kick for making you cry?”\n\nShe managed half a grin. “Death.”\n\nJohn nodded, and put his arm around her. What more was there to say? She cried into his shoulder and he just sat there, letting her get it all out. \n\nThe next day, he started the first step on his journey to fulfill her wish. A trip to every used book store yielded a pile of magic books, all but one of them worthless. Most were just self help books promoting positive thinking, but one had spells, actual spells. \n\nHe studied that book until he’d mastered everything in it that he could practically achieve. Floating a feather with his mind, seeing forest spirits through enchanted glass, even mending torn cloth with a needle that had no thread. \n\nIt wouldn’t be enough, though. \n\nSoon he was searching for more books in other cities, used book stores, libraries, even yard sales. Never magic shops, though. They were good for supplies, it turned out, but never had any real books. Never had any books with real magic, at least. By the time he’d collected enough to fill a small shelf he was beginning to get dismayed. The magic was real, but not strong enough. \n\nThat’s when he met Lilith. Lilith, like from the Bible, but no relation, she assured him. They were both eyeing the same book at an estate sale when she asked him what school he trained at. She laughed when he told her UC Berkeley. “No, I mean what school of magic?”\n\nJohn’s eyes went wide. “You mean there’s actual magic schools? Like, Harry Potter type schools, for real?”\n\nShe laughed again, harder this time. “No, I just thought... why don’t we talk some place else.”\n\nIt was over coffee with Lilith that John learned of the schools of magic. Like schools of thought, they were metaphors for how one went about practicing magic. Druid magic drew power from nature, dark magic requires sacrifices be made, arcane magic focused on magic words and spell ingredients, and so on. Arcane, it turned out, had been his school of study, but only because he’d never found any books on any of the other subjects. \n\n“That’s because most of the others require a teacher.” Lilith explained. “Arcane is the most openly available of the secret crafts, and they don’t guard their books as closely. Most druids only teach by word of mouth, priests of the fae write their spells on scrolls and keep them locked inside of living trees for safety. You won’t find their writings in the library.”\n\nJohn nodded slowly. Of course. He’d been feeling lately, over the months of his study, that he’d been hitting a brick wall of sorts. None of the new spells he’d learned had been any more useful than the last. “Where can I find a teacher? I mean, for something other than arcane magic.”\n\n“That depends. Which school do you want to learn from?”\n\n“All of them.”\n\nLilith gave him some names and some phone numbers and some warnings. Druids didn’t like dark magic, the fae found arcane to be an abomination, the jinn would burn you if they smelled holy magic on you when you approached them. Nobody learned from all the discipline at once, or even more than three, without pissing someone off and ending up dead. \n\nJohn thanked her for her help, and went to find a teacher. He started with the fae, explaining that he’d learned arcane magic and found it distasteful, and wanted to learn something better. The priest he met with welcomed him and took him to the woods to meet with the fairy he’d been training with. Together they learned fairy magic, learned of the flows of spirit energy through the roots and the leaves, how the wind took the spirit from the body and into nature. \n\nMeanwhile, he met with a Druid, and learned about how that same energy could be found in stone and blood. The fae told of the life in the leaves of a bush and the druids explained how to harness it by drying th leaves and burning them together. \n\nWhen he’d learned enough he scaled back his training, making time for study with the Order of the Ouroboros, an alchemist cult that believed the Great Work could be achieved through harnessing arcane energy through astrological alignments with terrestrial structures. \n\nWhen that proved fruitless, John met with a man in Japan who taught him how to contact the dead, then a necromancer in Scotland who taught him to banish lost spirits and trap wayward souls. He arranged an interview with a serial killer in a Russian prison (for a book he was writing, he had said) to learn how and why he had arranged the bodies of his victims, making the translator he was working with very uncomfortable as he got every detail about the mystical qualities of jugular blood versus aortal. \n\nThe Druid he had been working with contacted him, wondering where he had gone, and the fae priest did the same, saying that there was whispering among the trees that he had strayed from the path. \n\nJohn assured them he was fine, and that he was just traveling. Yes, he’d met with some people, but he wasn’t learning their dark ways of magic, he was just comparing notes, nothing to worry about. \n\nHe assured the man who taught him of the Kabbalah that his tree spirit and fairy teachings were a thing of the past, and he assured the worshipers of Hav’te’nal that he paid no heed to the books of Abraham. \n\nFinally, though, after years of study, he’d made a breakthrough. He’d learned what he needed, and knew how to do it. Lilith has been right, he had managed to piss off a lot of people, even trying to keep his multi school studies a secret. \n\nIt was time, thought. John went out into a field on the night of a lunar eclipse. As the moon went dark, he read an incantation from an arcane spell book, thickening the aether around him, and cut the throat of a pig, as the voodoo shaman had taught him. He drew the pigs blood into the shape of the tree of sephiroth, and called upon the forest spirits of oak and birch to heal the pig as he beseeched Nar’lu to raise it from the dead. \n\nThe pig shrieked and came back to life, as it’s wound healed, as the spell cast with its blood tricked death into thinking John had performed the spell on a human, breaking a cardinal rule of life, as the moon went completely dark, death’s form became visible in the aether, and John lit the fire in his cauldron, burning the herbs to smudge the iron chain in his hand, and threw it at the reaper itself, trapping it. \n\nFinally, after years of study he’d done it. \n\nHe cast a simple locator spell, simple to him now that he’d learned so much, and went to Amanda, death chained and helpless behind him. He knocked on her door, and she opened it, her eyes wide with horror as the black robes skeleton shrieked and struggled against its chains. \n\n“What the hell?!” Amanda jumped back, falling onto the floor.\n\n“I got him.” John said, smiling, hauling the skeleton inside as it shrieked again. “I caught death.” He kicked the reaper down to the ground as he tugged the chain tight around its neck. \n\n“John?” Amanda asked, suddenly seeing him. She’s been so shocked by the screaming sound she hadn’t even noticed him. “What are you... what’s going on here?”\n\n“You told me I had to kick deaths butt to make you happy again, so I did.” He kicked it again to make his point. “So?”\n\nShe stared at him, shocked to silence. “What?” She finally managed to say. “I said... John, you’ve been missing for years, we all thought you were dead. What’s going on here?”\n\n“I... I caught death. See? So I could make you happy again...” John had imagined this moment countless times. It never went like this. Shouldn’t she be thanking him? “Don’t you see? I did it for you... I... I love you.”\n\nShe looked at death, it’s hollow eyes staring at her. It had finally gone silent. Maybe it was as shocked as she was at what had been John motivation for this turn of events. \n\n“John... I’m married.”\n\n“What?” John felt his heart sink. That couldn’t be right. \n\n“John, my brother had died... it was a hard time for me, but... I moved on. I moved on after I thought you had died, too. It was hard, but I came to accept it. You... you didn’t really think... beating up the grim reaper doesn’t change anything, I was just upset. We all get upset when a loved one dies.”\n\n“You’re married?” John asked, dumbfounded. \n\nShe felt pity for him. Not for his broken heart, but for how lost he must have been to have gone down this path. They hadn’t even been dating back then. Had he lost his mind, or had he been this crazy all along? She took a deep breath, not believing the words she was about to say. “John, I think it’s time to let the grim reaper go.”\n\nHe let the chain drop from his hands, and Amanda carefully took it off of its neck as John walked away. The reaper vanished instantly, and John just walked down the street. Amanda closed the door, not sure what to make of what had happened. \n\nJohn wandered, and eventually sat down on a park bench, defeated. “All that work, for nothing.”\n\n“I wouldn’t say it was all for nothing.” A voice said, as a figure sat down next to him. \n\nJohn saw that it was death. No longer shrieking in unworldly wails, it spoke in a quite, calm voice, one that seemed to echo from inside its ribs. “Wasn’t it though?”\n\n“It was impressive.” Death said. “I’ll give you that. Misguided, but impressive.”\n\n“Thanks.” He sighed. “I suppose you’re here to kill me.”\n\n“No.” Death shook its head. “No, the druids arrow killed you when you sat down. I’m just here to take you along the next step of the path.”\n\nJohn looked down at his chest and saw a glowing arrow protruding from where his heart should be. “Oh, I see.” He stood up, looking back down at his limp body on the bench. “I guess that’s to be expected. Do you know where I’m going?”\n\nDeath shook its head. “No. I take the souls to the doorway between life and death, but even I do not know what lies beyond.” It held out it’s hand. “Are you ready?”\n\nJohn nodded. “Sure. Let’s go.”" ]	2
	[WP] You have the power to see how many hours a person has left until death. One day you are on a plane, and all around you the only number you see is 1.	[ "Life feels like this infinite thing, a never-ending train ride with chores, schedules, dates, and appointments along the way. Yet, what no one ever plans for is that final appointment, the point where you get off the train. And how could you? Death comes without indication, like a drunk driver taking a blind turn. But let me tell you something I'll bet no one ever told you before: if you are perceptive enough, you can do slightly better than just wait helplessly for death. Don't get your hopes too high. Let me finish.\n\nYou know how old people have that peculiar, sometimes off-putting odor? Well guess what, that's your brain picking up on the fact that their time is close. I mean that literally, by the way. That \"old people smell\" that kids always talk about is how much longer they have left. The worse they smell, the closer they are to checking out. They should teach that in schools.\n\nI experienced it too, when I was a kid. All the time. Well, with the small difference that I'm sort of the Mozart of smelling death on people. Beause instead of writing operas like he did, I was busy perfecting my sixth sense so that by the age of 12, I could pretty much tell you your bye-bye time down to the last hour with no more than a passing whiff. Anything from right-frikking-now to about a decade, and I just know. Beyond that, it's hard to tell. Of course, I'd be crazy to actually tell anyone. Or more accurately, I'd be called crazy if I told them. So I just shut up and go about life knowing exactly when all my friends, family and all the randos around me are going to die. Hurray.\n\nNow, normally in this situation a guy's expected to turn into some kind of a superhero or something, and... I did go down that road for a while, won't lie. Most people have a nice, healthy smell to them, but every now and then someone'll be walking by with the grim reaper sitting on their head, pretty much. One time a guy was literally seconds away from death and it didn't take a genius to figure out that he was about to get electrocuted by running into a live wire hanging from an overhead electric line (blame the hurricanes, I guess) that he obviously hadn't seen cause he was staring into his phone, probably too busy sending winky faces to some broad on the other line.\nSo, I heroically called out to him and brought his attention to the wire, to which he gave me the \"whatever, loser\" look and walked around the wire. Life saved, right? Nope. He got run over at the next traffic light and died on the spot. So my point is, it doesn't work. It has never worked. If a person is to die, they are going to find a way to die despite your best attempts to save them. \n\nNow, I know what you're thinking. Believe me, I know. The answer is no, I can cannot predict my own death. And I'm honestly glad that my nose (at least, that's the organ I think's doing the magic) is desensitized to my own smell and therefore cannot sense my own end coming. \n\nSo why am I telling you this long-winded story, Cap? Why did I request entry into the cockpit to talk with you one-on-one, saying that we're in danger? Well, cause what I can do is give you the exact time that all these people on our plane are going to die, and that time is exactly one hour on the dot for everybody here. Everybody ... except you. You're not dying anytime soon, Cap! Which makes me wonder, what exactly is going to happen here?\n\n------\n(To be continued, I should sleep lol)" ]	1
	[WP] The best doctor in the future time travels to different periods in the past, aiding the people with the knowledge of advanced medicine. When he gets back to the future, every doctor is now more skilled than him.	[ "It started with a mission to make humanity stronger. The year is 2100, and despite our advances viruses and disease will wipe out our society. Resistant strains have spread and our last treatments are useless.\n\nI watched her get sick, my dear sweet Samantha. I could only visit her in this suit. No breath of hot air or her warm hands to hold me.\n\nThe final solution to our problem is to artificially advance our ancestors medical knowledge, in hope it will ripple in time. Maybe, it will save her.\n\nMy first snapshot in time was cold. The cold winds froze my nostrils as I came across the first of my students.\n\nThey were scared. They had a little one who was weak and thirsty.\n\nI melt some snow into a bowl, and boil it and boil it. They watch closely as the bubbles form and rises to the air.\n\nThe water cools, and her child begins to drink. The child's two mothers talk to the Shaman. He doesn't quite understand what is going on.\n\nBut I think he realises now. He tells them the fire has scared the evil spirits from the water. The evil spirits are responsible for the child's sickness.\n\nAs I leave for my next snapshot, he has a revelation. He takes a burning rock and sutures a wound on his leg.\n\nArriving in time, numerous robed men surrounded the conqueror. Arrows few around as they retreated.\n\n\"Save the Qin King!\" they screamed. I tried to yank the arrow out, but he screamed in pain.\n\nI demanded a pot of rice ethanol, and I offered it to the King. Cup by cup until he was completely out.\n\nCarefully, I removed the arrow, head and all. There was no screaming. His scholars watched me nervously as I sewed the wound and poured the rest of the alcohol on. The King immediately seized up and yelled in pain.\n\nHis scholars and guards rushed to his aid. They fed him boiled water, as I faded away to a warmer time.\n\nShe had beauty beyond compare. Even at this time. Her braided hair and deep eyes stared into me. But she was weak, and almost infirm even at a youthful age. I could only sputter out my advice as butterflies took my stomach.\n\n\"Cleopatra my queen, I really must forbid you from having children with your brother. It's made you weak, it's made your whole family weak! Surely your sacred blood should not make you weaker than the peasant?\"\n\nShe ordered my arrest. Not everyone is taking to kind to it. I fade away to another time. She almost reminded me of my sweet Samantha. So weak and sickly, with her deep eyes. It is a shame I could not help her.\n\nThe time\\-stream was getting unstable now. Perhaps hundreds of years of medical and health sciences have been advanced. \n\nThree of me fade in. As I stared at my\\-selves, I slowly realised I had a temporal split. The revelation was interrupted by a beautiful light in the sky. It was our destination.\n\nAway in a manger, no crib for a bed. The little boy Jesus laid on his sweet head. I knee to offer my gifts to the most beautiful mother Mary, and her diligent husband Joseph.\n\nMy gifts to him. A life worth more than gold \\- a vaccine. A bottle of alcohol\\-oils to cure skin ailments and to ward leprosy away. And my final gift, a sweet smelling resin to smoke the flies away.\n\nMy time was becoming unstable. I fade away one last time. One last job.\n\nThe air was cold and salty. The boy was cold and sick. It's a simple cure, when I was pulled aside.\n\n\"Stop this at once he demanded. This man knows more!\" yelled the Blue toothed man.\n\nBrought in was a man in a habit, holding a book. He forwarded his head to me and whispered \"that old cure won't do, try something newer\".\n\nThere isn't anything newer. I'm the newest there is! Surely has time been affected this much?\n\nI fade away in the Blue toothed King's baptism. The world around me has changed.\n\nMy sweet Samantha I could not cure is full of life again. Her skin rich and eyes gleaming. The doctors surrounding me did what I could not, and could never do." ]	1
	[WP] You always leave reminders for your partner on your fridge, which seems to really help them fulfil their tasks. It turns out, no matter what reminder you write on the fridge, they HAVE to do it.	[ "Whenever we would have guests over, they would ask why we, the richest and most powerful people on the planet, who could afford the best of anything, still had that old crappy fridge. At least they did ask us that when there were still fridges and houses and all those things.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAbout a decade ago, I was working as a supervisor on a construction site. I had to leave the house early in the morning before my wife woke up. I would leave notes on the fridge for her. Sometimes cute ones: \"I love you Patricia - Sam.\" Most of the time errands that needed doing, \"pick up cat food, we’re out - Sam.\"\n\nThen everything changed one day with a joke. We were having trouble making rent that month and I wrote a note, \"become millionaire - Sam.\" I got a call at work that afternoon. Patricia’s great aunt, whom she had never met before, died and left her small fortune of exactly one million dollars to her. First I thought my wife was pulling one over on me. Then I reasoned it must have been a coincidence. But then again if it wasn’t, I thought, we could do anything. I needed to test it.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI began writing notes for bizarre things that would never happen by chance. \"Find a penny with heads on both sides.\" \"Write a novel about a pair of clams rekindling a lost love.\" After writing a note I would leave it on the fridge then take it off after a few minutes and rip it up. My wife never saw the sticky notes I left, but the strange magic still worked.\n\nAt first, I used this new power to meet celebrities, to get tickets to sold-out concerts, and other vain things. The two of us grew rich and famous. We moved into a bigger house, traveled the world, lived a life of luxury, but I always insisted we keep that crappy old fridge with us.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI had my craziest idea in 2024, in November. The day before the election I wrote, \"become president - Sam.\" Within an hour, the TV networks and online newspapers were buzzing with news about the movement behind a new write-in candidate. \"Who’s this new candidate everyone’s talking about?\" \"Patricia Tucker, topping polls in extraordinary upset.\" \"Author of Let Bivalves Be Bivalves enters the race.\"\n\nThe presidency was followed by a unified global government, world peace, a new golden age.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI couldn’t keep the secret forever. Eventually I told my wife why all of this happened and explained the magic of the sticky notes. She didn’t believe me at first, but after I demonstrated it a few times, she accepted it. She was angry at me for hiding it for so long, but considering her position, she couldn’t really be angry for that long. We began working together on notes.\n\nThe one problem left on Earth that hadn’t been solved during the Tucker presidency was inequality. Although there were no more starving people, the rich were still rich and the poor were still poor. She had me write, \"fix global inequality - Sam.\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThat is, of course, what happened. Nowadays nobody has more of anything than anyone else. Nobody has any of anything. The massive asteroid impacts and global nuclear winter made sure of that. Nobody has any refrigerators anymore either. \n" ]	1
	[WP] For hundreds of years a monster has terrorized your village. After it kills your family during its rampage, you decide to destroy it once and for all. You embark on a perilous journey of revenge only to find that the monster you have been searching for has been slain by an even bigger threat.	[ "They say that the Fiend had first come in my grandfather's day. Of course, that was just one of many stories that everyone from the grey haired old women huddling in their shacks, to the dark faced men brooding over their ale in the village's single smoky tavern, to the wide eyed children playing in the mud, told and re\\-told. \n\nSome said it was the vengeful spirit of a girl, wrongly, drowned as a witch \$as tradition demanded\$ come to take vengeance on the village folk that put her to death. Other tales said that it was some kind of demon or nether creature, sent to punish us for our sins. All stories agreed however on two things, firstly that since the day it had crawled out of the marsh we had called it the Fiend and, that it came to feed.\n\nThrough out my childhood I remember those that were taken. Some of their faces forgotten, eroded by the passing of time, and others as clear as the last day I had set eyes upon them, like those of my family. \n\nFew had seen the Fiend, and of those who had fewer still had lived. It came from the waters of the marsh around the village like so many dangers for the folk who lived there, from the black fish that would take a man's leg to the fever that poisoned the blood. However, unlike the fish and the pox the Fiend could hunt, and, it could think. Traps of poisoned meat left for the beast were ignored. Patrols of men marching into the marsh, their desperation or grief overwhelming their fear, were evaded. The weakest or most vulnerable, were targeted.\n\nThat was how my family were taken. My father was, like some many others, a fisherman. Every day he would leave for the granite coloured waters of the marsh with his coracle and his net and every evening he would return with a few small fish. What he, my mother and I didn't eat could be sold at the local market in the nearest town, a day's ride away. That night however he didn't return. I remember the worry on my mother's face, the indecision, the fear. Finally her love for him had given her the strength to take the small lantern we owned and to leave, out into the night, to look for him. Her last words to me were to stay and that all would be all right because she and my father loved me.\n\nThey found their bodies at sunrise. Like so many others there wasn't much left, what the Fiend hadn't eaten had already been taken by the fish. The biggest sign that they had ever been at the water's edge was the great, red slick of blood across the normally grey surf, a deeper scarlet than even the reflection of the rising sun.\n\nAmong the condolences and sorrows that were heaped upon me in the following days and weeks and months, were also warnings. Many in the village said that my parents had been among those, who out of desperation for the Fiend, had been praying for help. Not in the proper faith, as we had been taught and raised, but to something older, to Boden. Boden was an elder thing, a god perhaps, or maybe something else. It was a thing of marsh, worshipped by the first men who walked here, the men who build this village. But that was hundreds of years ago, since then the true faith and come and risen and we were now godly folk who had abandoned the ways of heresy.\n\nAt least that was what we thought. But desperate times make people do desperate things and as the Lord of our current faith seemed to have abandoned his flock, some of us turned to older, forbidden things in search of salvation. That, folks said, included my parents. The old village priest even gave a sermon, calling the deaths of my parents divine retribution for their blasphemy and warned against praying to Boden, warning that such prayers may bring back something even older and more foul than the Fiend.\n\nMy uncle, who as my only other family I had gone to live with after my parent's deaths, called him a son of a whore and told me to take no notice. He was a godless but hard working man who provided for me for many years till finally he was taken too, but by the pox this time rather than the Fiend.\n\nAfter his death I left that tiny village and went into the world. I begged, and then I worked, and then I served, and then I fought and eventually, I killed. I learned many lessons and hardships but I kept fighting. Finally, after many years, my path brought me back to my village. \n\nThe same years that had hardened me in the service of a Lord had not been as kind to the folk there. They were different, their faces unwelcoming even as I told them who I was. I recognised a few, although they now carried the weight of age. None would say a word to me, none would even speak of the Fiend when I told them that I had followed my path back to take revenge. They stared and leered from doorways and windows as I rode through the village, not understanding why I had received no warm welcome.\n\nIt was not until I reached the centre, by the old tavern, that I saw the bones. A mound as tall as my horse, greyed and yellowed by the sun, men and women and children. In the very centre the bones of something that could never have been human. I recognised it, in the back of my mind, from yet another childhood story of how the Fiend looked. But the thing in front of me was dead, and had been for many years, its elongated, snake like body now little more than a long spinal column and a shrunken horned skull, just a few bones among hundreds.\n\nConfusion seemed to grip and freeze me, I didn't understand. Not until ,at least, hands clawed at me, dragging me from my saddle and wrestling me to the ground. I saw the faces above me of people I had once known, once lived with, of whom I had for many years dreamed of riding back and saving from the terror of a beast. But the beast was long dead in front of me and they were dragging me towards its bones.\n\nNo one spoke, they dragged me and then, with grim strength, held me to the earth. For minutes there was no sound, no movement, and then I heard the tread of footsteps. Impossibly heavy, muffled and certainly not human. I felt them draw closer. The smell of the marsh filled my nostrils; fish and brackish water and stagnant rot. Above me, striding through the bones swelled the form of something taller than any man, bigger than the bones of the Fiend beneath its cloven feet. I recognised it even from long ago. From an old wooden carving the priest had once held up to us as children, telling us tales to warn us against praying to blasphemes things, things older than Fiend or men. \n\nHe had warned us then, as when my parents died, not to reach out to it for fear that it would reach back and, as I looked up into eyes that burned like coals, I wished that we had listened. ", "I had climbed Mt. Gold to kill the dragon of old. He had laid hellfire on our village for generations, but we were mere farmers. In a way, I had always been the chosen one. I pulled like an ox the others would say, I was stronger than 3 men. I was faster than the ferocious he\\-tiger that stole babes in the night. I had killed the great snake Shekan. And married the most beautiful woman in our small blot on the land of our fathers. Together we had a children, and in the comforts of fatherhood, of high yield crops, in the flourishing straw huts, I had admittedly avoided the dragon. That was a big mistake.\n\nIt swooped one day when the village winked away the sun, in the mask of darkness it left globs of its sticky hot balls of flame in the wake. The children screamed, men grabbed their farm tools, and woman cried over the dead. I opened the door of my home, only to see the village my father and his fathers before him had called home in a world of flames.\n\nI don't know when it hit, but I can still feel the fires licking the shoulders behind me. When I came to, the earth was a wisping coal coughing up its last glow. I turned to see them in statues of ash, my wife's arms still wrapped around my two sons. And in my grief I cried to the skies above.\n\nThe rage that built upon my shoulders should have weighed me down as I scaled the mountain. I had nothing but a good scythe in my hands, it had been passed down from one man after the other in my family, for as long as anyone remembered them. In its handle were the souls of men, many greater than I, their tears, their blood, their sweat. At the end of the blade, it had known nothing other than the fibrous cells that sprung from the Earth itself. But today, as I stared down the cave of this flighted creature, that would all change.\n\nIt bore its fangs at me, not an ounce of intelligence behind its maddening eyes. It was nothing mythical, nor magical as some have said. No. It was nothing but a beast. A creature of pure hatred, that ate from the sky, the land, and the sea. It picked up a rock from between its snout, chewing it to a crumbled mess, sparking the fat that had fallen off its prey and spitting the fiery globe in my direction. I felt the heat as it moved by. I did not even flinch. Today, I was guided with one purpose, as if led by a God that the village mothers spoke of so often, I walked forward and knew exactly what to do. I swung my scythe and drew blood on the first stroke. I could have ended it there but instead I chose to take an arm. It's claws fell dead on the floor, unable to grasp as it had done so, so many times before.\n\nThe hideous creature roared in agony as it foamed at the mouth, it reached out another claw ridden strike and missed my head by inches. Again I took its arm. Now, it decided to back away, cornered, seemingly smaller than I had remembered. It's black velvet skin bristling as I came near, too stupid to know fear as it lunged with its mouth wide open. And that was when I cleaved his head in two.\n\nThe lifeless body of my great tormentor laid in the cave ground. The silver ooze of its blood still fresh on my blade, and finally the godly feeling that had so emboldened me, left. And I was alone with nothing but the pain.\n\nIt was here that I realized, how many would not have died, how this chaos bore from my procrastination would have saved many that I loved. For how, in the end, I had killed this creature, regardless. In it bore the death of my ineptitude, in this regret \\- the strongest of my feelings tore me away from all semblance as life as I had known. I could not return to the village where they would hail me as a hero, words that felt like dirt in my mouth. I was merely an avenger, a man bent on doing nothing that could change the past, yet dwelled in its shadow.\n\nI skinned the creature, and wore its dark scales on my back, I picked up my scythe, now dried with the silver blood of the forked tongue lucifer, and emerged from the cave. I was no longer a farmer, no longer a man, for now, I could only live in the moment of my deepest regret, searching endlessly for the moment of death. I would become the grim, and its reaper.", "Wonders and monsters roamed this little world, and so I had sailed through the Six Seas, seeking for those wonders, for a monster had drowned my village in a constant nightmare. It had been tall, dour and dark, trees had sprung out of its mushy frame, thorns had wrapped its chest and arms, and it was vile and stupid, a thing who had been born only to cause mayhem.\n\nIn the far lands of Lastash, I had been taught the art of fire. Years it had taken me to understand it, and years again to master it. The craft had absorbed me, and so did my dream of incinerating the monster with a flick of my wrist. However, when the flame had roared in my palm for the first time, tinging my face with its tender warmth, I had known that my efforts hadn't been enough, for I had taken too long.\n\nNevertheless, when the fire had spoken its first words to me, and it had sworn to obey me and my blade, Scaldingedge, I had sailed back to my village thinking rue thoughts, and seeing gloomy portends.\n\nAfter a month of travelling through salt and tide I reached my village. I bade farewell to my fellow galley companions and made my way through the moors, up the mountains, and into the forest that had witnessed my first steps. I followed the Old Trail, a scorched path where green never grew, and which led to my hidden home.\n\nI grinned when I saw the huts and its roofs made of leaves, the smiling kids and singing people. We never had much, for we lived off of nature, but we had always been of merry and mirth, barring the attacks of the ravaging monster.\n\nAs I walked inward, through cherry trees and falling leaves, scattered branches and thick roots, I witnessed my father humming to himself while washing a rag in the running river. \n\nI placed my hand on his shoulder, and he looked at me through the corner of his eye. Soon, a glint of disbelief shone in the blackness of his pupils. He let the river take the rag and turned to embrace me. \"Blessed be the winds who had carried my son back!\" he said. His voice had turned hoarse and frail over the years, but how I missed him.\n\n\"And they shall carry my ashes to the everlasting river,\" I said and wrapped my arms around him. \"I missed you. I missed mother and little Sara.\"\n\nHe let go and grabbed my shoulders, while meeting my gaze. \"It's with great sorrow, son of mine, that I have to tell you that your mother rests in the everlasting currents, and that who goes by the name of the Naturist has taken your sister.\"\n\nMy emotions stirred yet I fought against them, attempting to stop them from overwhelming me. I had spent the last years preparing for tragedy, yet now I understood that not even a eternity would have been enough. Everything inside me shattered like glass and, as my eyes welled up with tears, I buried my head into my father's chest like I often did when I was a kid, and he said, \"You can still save Sara.\"\n\n\"Who... who is this Naturist? Where is the monster?\" I said between whimpers.\n\n\"The monster is no more. The Naturist took his life, murdered it with the monster's own thorns and then...\" He trailed off and took a deep breath. \"And then he took Sara, as a warranty of our village's well being. Your mother fought against it only to meet her fate.\"\n\n\"Is he a man or a monster?\" I asked, wiping off my tears, and letting the wrath burn my sorrow. \"Where can I find him?\"\n\n\"He is no man nor monster,\" my father said. \"He's evil, wicked like a monster but has the wit of a man. You will find him in the core of the forest where the trees are greener, the leaves are playful and the birds sing beautiful melodies.\"\n\n\"Goodbye father,\" I said. \"Fear not, I will bring back Sara.\"\n\nI looked northward where the core lay, and without a second thought, toward it I went. \n\n--------------------------------------\n\n/r/therobertfall -- For more stories. I might continue this!\n ", "She blinked rapidly, clearing the haze from her eyes. She was covered in sweat again and could feel the dampness of her sheets. She stood up and walked to the balcony, throwing the doors wide. The cool winter air felt comforting on her feverish body. \n\nIt was the same nightmare. It was the same nightmare she had had every night for the past ten years. She was standing at the top of the waterfall with her son Aliu, looking out across Evangelia. Her husband Jeyra was playing on the riverbank with baby Tiram. Everyone was smiling and basking in the sun. \n\nThe beautiful scene was the disrupted by a crash in the trees. Light blue skin and gnashing teeth turned Jeyra and Tiram into a mess of flesh and blood that stained the river red. Aliu tried to wade through the river to her, but was caught by the beast’s blue claws. Anais reached for him as he screamed in terror, but she slipped on a rock and crashed into the river. Her body careened down the waterfall and she lay unconscious in the pool at the bottom of the falls. \n\nThat was always when she woke up. The guilt had not dissipated in those ten years since she had lost them. The anger though had grown. Each time another family was killed and the Elders didn't do anything about it, she was filled with rage. At first, she went to the Council meetings and screamed her anger at their inaction. But after being dismissed as an unstable woman each time for several years, she had enough and stopped going. The excuse was always the same \\- the family had abandoned the mission of the Elders and had defected to the Village of Dissenters. The Elders said that whole families could not be killed by any beast of the ground, so clearly they must be defecting. Anais had been the only one to see the beast and survive.\n\nAnais had been preparing for months and on this, the tenth anniversary of their deaths, she was going to exact her revenge. She had packed the night before and looked over at Marlowe.\n\n\"You ready, pup?\"\n\nMarlowe's ears perked up at her name, but she remained glued to the floor.\n\n\"I need you. I need your nose.\"\n\nMarlowe stretched and gave a yip of assent.\n\nAnais and Marlowe set out in the cold, wintry morning. Anais had been tracking the family disappearances for the last few years and had traced them all back to the top of waterfall, more or less. \n\nWhen they reached the top of the falls, she paused momentarily to pay respect to her family. The rocks in the river were covered in green moss, just as slick as that day ten years ago.\n\nShe knew the beast was large, at least the height of the central building in the village, so she looked for signs of destruction in the forest. It looked like the beast did not deviate from a few favored exits to the river as, there were only a few disturbances in the dense forest.\n\nShe and Marlowe pushed through one of the disturbed areas. An acrid scent assaulted her nose and she knew they were on the right path. It probably had not been long since the beast had been here. \n\nThe sounds of the river faded quickly with the density of the forest surrounding them. The canopy overhead obscured most of the daylight. Only an occasional ray made it through to illuminate the dark adapted eyes of the forest floor fauna.\n\nThe ground beneath her feet was starting to become damper, almost swamp\\-like. It seemed that the river tributaries stretched further than the villagers had been able to map. Even the branches she pushed out of her way were moist and mossy.\n\nHer steps became more difficult as the mud sucked at her feet. The forest was quiet except for the sickening sucking sounds of her feet. Marlowe walked more deftly, jumping over the brambles.\n\nSuddenly, Marlowe stopped, one front paw hanging in the air, mid\\-step. The fur on her back bristled.\n\nAnais peered ahead in the dark, her eyes now adjusted to the darkness of the forest. She could see a series of pools of water leading to what appeared to be the entrance to a partially submerged cave. She adjusted the sword in her belt and approached cautiously. The beast had looked like a hydrophile that day at the top of the waterfall with the smooth blue skin of a fish. \n\nAt the rocky entrance, she ducked down slightly. She could tell that she and Marlowe would not have to submerge themselves, but that the water would probably come up to her waist at least.\n\nShe began wading forward and quickly the water passed her shoulders and reached the bottom of her ears. Despite the dense dark forest behind them, there seemed to be some light emanating from inside the cave. Marlowe swam along beside her, occasionally uttering a low growl.\n\nThe water was frigid at first and Anais was surprised it had not frozen over in the winter. But as they moved deeper into the cave, it began to warm, almost to the temperature of a pleasant bath. As the water warmed, it became shallower, opening into a large cavern. Anais could see the source of the light now. The walls of the cave glimmered from a coating of bioluminescent plants. It was almost beautiful were they not in the cave of the animal that had killed her entire family. \n\nShe sensed that perhaps the animal was not in its cave. She would have expected that it should have sensed their presence. The acrid smell that she felt at the entrance was palpable now – they were nearly there.\n\nIn a clearing in the cave, she could see many piles of bones from the creatures the beast had preyed upon. Many appeared human, but there were others there of shapes and sizes that she did not recognize as animals that lived in or around the village. It seemed that either the beast was quite old or it had migrated very far to capture and eat all of other creatures. \n\nThe fur on Marlowe's back remained bristled. Anais could sense that something was not right as well. \n\nThey turned a corner to discover a brilliant white light, much different from the blue bioluminescence of the cave plants. There, in what appeared to be the sleeping place of the beast, stood a man. Anais was confused. She had seen no one else enter the cave and nobody had been in the clearings near the river that led to the cave. So where had he come from? \n\nThe man was standing in a beam of white light. In his hand was a sword covered in crimson. The man had just removed the sword from the blue beast sprawled under his feet, lifeless. This stranger had killed the beast upon which she sought her revenge. She felt both relief at the death of the beast and anger that she had not been the one to fell the creature. \n\nIn the white light, the animal appeared less grotesque than she had remembered from that day ten years ago. It now looked just like any other creature of the earth. A beast with primal urges to eat and survive. For an instant, she felt mournful at the loss of another life.\n\nThe man wiped the crimson from his blade on the ground and rinsed it in a pool beside his feet. He became aware that another presence had joined him in the cave and spun to look at Anais.\n\n“Well hello!” he said jovially. \n\nAnais was surprised at the tone of his voice. She had never seen him before \\- he was not one of the villagers and she thought that he should have some accent if he was one of the Dissenters.\n\n“How have you come to this place?” he asked.\n\nShe still couldn't find any words. \n\nThe man began to walk toward Anais, sheathing his sword as he did so. \n\nAs he approached, Marlowe began to growl and bark at him. Anais tried to calm her, but Marlowe gnashed her teeth and foamed at the mouth. \n\n“Marlowe!” Anais hissed. \n\nMarlowe sat at her feet, but kept her teeth bared silently. \n\n“Madam,” the man said. “How have you come to be in this cave? I came here to take this beast as a trophy. It is a great hunter and I, the greater hunter.”\n\nAnais stammered, “I… it, it killed my family. I came here for revenge.”\n\n“Oh I'm so sorry!” said the man with a laugh. “Had I known that you had a blood grudge against this beast I should certainly have allowed you the opportunity to kill it! But no matter! There are other beasts in this land needing slaying.” He smiled again.\n\n“I am Veloni of Idet. I have come here to hunt rare beasts for sport.”\n\n“I am Anais from the Evangelia.”\n\n“Well Anais, you are most impressive to have made the perilous journey up to this creature's lair. Through the mountain, up the river, traversing the putrid feculent passages of this cave and avoiding the poisonous walls.”\n\nAnais nodded slightly. “Just here to settle old debts.”\n\n“Tell me Anais, are other members of your village so adept and strong willed as you?”\n\nMarlowe stood again and growled softly through bared teeth.\n\n“Certainly not the elders! But we are a village of hard workers I suppose.” Anais was beginning to feel uneasy. “Why do you ask?”\n\n“Oh I just like to learn more about the fauna of the places I visit,” said Veloni.\n\n“Fauna? That's a strange way to refer to people from another village,” she said quizzically.\n\n“Ah, yes.” The corners of his lips turned up in a malevolent smile. “Where are my manners?”\n\nAnais could not put her finger on what happened next, but Veloni's eyes flashed almost imperceptibly. For just a blink, they appeared animalistic, inhuman. In that flash, he was suddenly next to her.\n\n“Well Anais. Thank you for demonstrating your physical and mental prowess by making it here.”\n\nSuddenly she felt a sharp pain in her ribs and Marlowe's growl was silenced by a high pitched yelp.\n\n“I can't have you going back and warning the rest of the humans that they are going to make excellent slaves.” Veloni's eyes flashed again.\n\nAnais looked down and saw the glint of red blood on Veloni's sword as he pulled it from between her ribs.", "\"I just- I just can't believe you're back.\"\n\nI grinned, sitting back on my stool. The others were crowded close around - friends and neighbors all. It had been years since I'd seen any of them. Too many years.\n\n\"Well, I said I would, didn't I?\" I muttered.\n\nOne of them slapped me on the back. \"Well, yeah, you said that, but you joined the army, dintcha?\" He grinned. \"Figgered you'd be dead and all. No offense.\"\n\nThe others roared with laughter. I joined in, not letting them see the irritation hiding under the expression. It wasn't funny. I had joined the army, yes. I'd come close to dying more than a few times, over my years of service on the contested border, and I'd seen more than a few good men die.\n\nTheir jokes weren't funny at all.\n\n\"Yeah, yeah,\" I said anyway, taking their laughter in stride. \"Anyway. It's about that time.\"\n\nTheir laughter died down in an instant. They eyed me warily.\n\n\"Are you...sure, Kain? It's best if you just stayed in, I think,\" one said.\n\n\"There's brave and there's stupid,\" another said, nodding along.\n\nI only smiled, pushing myself out of my seat. \"I know. I'll be fine. Don't worry.\"\n\nTheir protests died behind me as I slipped from the tavern.\n\nI would be fine. I'd made sure of that.\n\nThe past ten years had been spent making absolutely certain of that, in fact. Ever since the night the Curseclaw had tore through the outskirts of the village - right through my family's home.\n\nI could still remember the stink of it, the green glow of its eyes and the horrible rot dripping from its skin. It was a bit of a legend around Ashmire - the local monster.\n\nMy steps faded out as I slipped away from the bustle of the village proper. My strides lengthened, falling quiet on the hard-packed earth as I settled into a more ready posture.\n\nIt was the remnants of a cult that had inhabited the region centuries before - so it was said. They'd left - they'd been defeated, but the land remembered.\n\nAnd the Curseclaw was born from the scraps they'd left behind.\n\nSliding my sword from its sheath, I stepped closer to a copse of trees. It was faint, but I could see the ichor lingering on the branches. It had been here - recently. The morning sun erased the Curseclaw without a trace, dissolving it like smoke on the wind. It wouldn't be seen for another month.\n\nI smiled at the sight of my proof. I was on the right track. It was close.\n\nAs I stalked onwards, I tried to fix everything I had been taught into my mind. How to walk. How to hold myself. I'd been with the army - first. Then the clerics. Then the monks. Each of them had taught me their tricks, for a single purpose.\n\nI was going to kill it, once and for all. Ashmire had long since gotten used to hiding from the beast. That ended tonight.\n\nI froze. Something was making a noise, up ahead. Something large, and loud, and heavy. My pulse thundered in my ears. It was here. It was time.\n\nCrouching, I crept forward through the underbrush. The bush was thick, but I could peeer out if I was careful.\n\nMy blood froze in my veins. I could see it. It lay just ahead, leathery skin blackened with mats of reddish hair hanging from its form.\n\nIt lay. I blinked.\n\nAnd then I stepped out of the underbrush, eyes narrowed.\n\nThe Curseclaw - the terror of the swamp, the nightmare of Ashmire, the slayer of the meek. My personal nemesis.\n\nIt lay on its side, gasping for its last breath. Its form was covered in wounds, horrifying gashes blackened and oozing ichor. The forest around us was shattered, the trees splintered and torn.\n\nIt was dying. I gaped. How? What had done this? It was the Curseclaw. It wasn't supposed to die. I hadn't even had a chance to kill it yet.\n\nA flicker of pale, greenish light drew my eye. I turned, slow as sap.\n\nSomething was alongside the Curseclaw.\n\nIt rose, inch by inch, as though it could sense my presence. I paled, feeling its eyes on me.\n\nIt was...I had no idea what it was. I could see a figure, lurking within the depths of its aura, but the body was nearly masked by the haze that surrounded it. It shimmered with green light, ever-shifting, ever-changing.\n\nLeaves crunched. A bead of sweat dripped down my back.\n\nIt was walking. Stepping towards me.\n\n\"Kain,\" it crooned. My eyes widened, horrified. \"Kain, Kain, Kain.\"\n\nMy lips trembled, hesitating.\n\nIts eyes were an eerie, sickly yellow, glowing fiercely in the night. I could- I could see all the way through it, I realized. And it had- it had claws, just like the Curseclaw. They rattled as it stepped closer, a grin spreading across its face.\n\n\"B-begone, foul beast of the night, for the m-morning's light is. Is nearly upon us and your bane is nigh,\" I chanted, stumbling over the words as I remembered myself. It was one of the first prayers the clergy had taught me. They'd thought it would help.\n\nBut the beast only giggled, a high-pitched, reedy sound. \"Kain,\" it whispered.\n\nI knew that voice. Gods, I knew that voice.\n\nIt smiled at me, wearing my mother's face. The last of the blood drained from my expression.\n\n\"I missed you, Kain,\" she said. Her voice was changing, though, warping. Before my eyes, its face...distorted.\n\nMy little sister stared down at me. \"Where did you go?\" she said, her voice sad. The claws rattled on its hands. \n\nI stumbled back, shaking my head. No. No, no, no, this was impossible. They were dead.\n\nThey were all dead. They'd been killed.\n\nDammit, why wasn't my prayer working?\n\n\"We missed you, Kain,\" it said, my father's face creasing into a smile. The mists of its body flickered, reshaping again, and again, and again. I knew all of them. The old man by the river, who'd died in his sleep when I was young. My neighbor, who'd drowned in a flood.\n\nWhat was happening?\n\nKain, Kain, Kain. The whispers echoed around me.\n\nYet every time I tried to cast a purifying incantation, it just shivered, letting the holy words slide off its skin.\n\nAs though it were holy itself. Adrenaline shot through my body.\n\nThis region had been inhabited by cultists. Everyone knew that. And everyone knew the Curseclaw was a remnant of their dark magic.\n\nAnd so the priests had been here for centuries, too, laying their spells and trying to purify the land. Every time the Curseclaw came, they came too.\n\nHoly magic and the evil workings of the cultists - layered together. Over and over and over again, for generations - imbued with the need to guard, to protect.\n\nThe body of the Curseclaw steamed behind it, slowly growing cold. Green ichor still oozed from the hideous wounds that had been inflicted on it.\n\nI needed to run. I needed to leave. With a gasp, I slashed out, burying my sword in the thing's belly.\n\nThe mists just parted around the blade, though. My mother smiled at me.\n\nIts claws wrapped around my shoulders as it pulled me into a hug.\n\n\"Oh, Kain, we missed you,\" it whispered, smiling. \"Never leave again.\"\n\nI tried to pull free, gasping and coughing as it pulled me closer. Its claws dug bloody lines into my shoulders as it held me tight.\n\n\"You'll never leave us again, will you, Kain?\" it purred in my ear.\n\n(/r/inorai, critiques always welcome!)" ]	5
	[WP] With discount offers becoming more and more ludicrous, the major pizza delivery chains have chosen a new set of tactics in their pursuit of sales: All-out, driver to driver, store to store, warfare.	[ "This was the most dangerous part of the delivery. As he pulled up to the house he could see 10 or so people sitting on the porch, at the edge of their seats, enthralled by what was going on out front. The buzz of TV drones could be heard up above. \t\n\nThese damn vouchers are getting ridiculous. You can get a voucher just for calling in an order as long as you guarantee an audience will be supplied. \t\n\nHe checks his mirrors and throws the car in park when satisfied the coast is clear.\t \t\n\nHe jumps out, raises his rifle shoulder level and sweeps it around in a 180 degree arc. With no threats in sight he reached through the back door window into the seat and grabs the pizza warmer bag. \t\n\nHe turns and makes a dash for the gate. Through the gate and up the walk. The caller makes a gesture and they exchange the pizza and voucher. Once again at the gate he raises his rifle and does another sweep. He steps through the gate and leaps forward. \t\n\nHe feels a sharp pain and his leg collapses. A loud crack comes a second later. He tries to roll over but ends up pulling himself forward because his other leg doesn't want to work either. As he manages to get propped up, back against his car, he comes to realize he is dead. The realization is kind of liberating. Screw the company, screw the system, screw them all. \t\n\nHe fumbles through his left pocket and finds his key fob. \t\n\nHe raises his rifle again and aims down the street to the right. He can't see them but he knows they should closing in. He then watches the shadows but doesn't see movement. They must be sticking to the yards. \t\n\nThe viewers on the porch are eating their pizza, pointing, arguing with each other, and some are cheering. He smirks. You guys are so screwed too. \t\n\nIn the more expensive parts of town the viewing porches have Kevlar and bullet proof glass barriers in front. Out here though, nothing separates the spectators. \n\nThe buzzing gets louder as more networks zero in on the action. \t\n\nHe checks right again. Still no movement. His legs are now completely numb. Half of his right thigh is missing and his left is tattered. A large pool of blood is running off the curb and into the gutter. Twenty\\-three years old, eight as an indentured driver and now hes gonna die on a sidewalk facing people eating pizza and cheering it on. \t\n\nHe pushes the panic button twice then holds it on the third. Switches like this are illegal but what the hell are they going to do. There are random car inspections but corruption is so rampant and the inspectors all work for the FDEC\$Federal Delivery Enforcement Commission\$ anyway, which is funded by the big four. They usually just pick up the payment, look around, grab some food and leave. Most drivers have packed cars. It makes taking a pinky toe to claim a kill as dangerous as making a delivery. \t\n\nHe hears a faint sound behind him. \t\n\nMaybe in another life he could be the boss and not the minion. How many drivers would he own? \t\n\nHe looks straight up, raises a hand, and flips the bird at the drones.\n\nWTF do they do with the toes anyway he thought. \t\n\nAs she steps around the bumper she pulls the trigger and sends a single shot through his chest. Immediately she knows what is happening. \t\n\nWhen the button depressed, charges in both rear car doors were set off. At this range the type of explosive didn't matter to her or the spectators. The doors were packed with BB s, scrap, jacks, and whatever else he could get crammed in the spaces. At detonation these cut through the sheet metal like it wasn't even there and scattered in all different directions. The driver was dead instantly. She lived long enough to realize what was happening but was dead less than a second later. \t\n\nThe spectators got it worst. The projectiles spread enough after 50 feet to riddle them, but no one injury was a life ending event. The cumulative effect though was. All would be dead within a couple of excruciatingly painful minutes. They aren't cheering now. \t\n\nEvery house within line of site is peppered with projectiles. Very few penetrate so people are mostly safe inside but anyone caught in the open is having a bad day. And so was Papa. The fine for this infraction would cost him millions. His pizza chain made billions off sponsorships though, so it actually it wouldn't hurt him that bad, just a drop in the bucket. The Huts and the Bones would be laughing though. \t\n\nJust another driver. \n\nMaybe there would be some retaliation but drivers are cheap and the losses average out between the companies. The store fronts are so heavily defended that assaults are rare. The occasional large yield device gets through and although most aren't illegal, municipalities do not look kindly at blocks of citizens disappearing. \t\n\nThe largest happened in El Paso back in 2022. One of the Huts got hold of and set off an old W78 stolen from the US arsenal. No fines were levied and two of their own locations were destroyed in the detonation, not to mention El Paso becoming uninhabitable, but it took out five competing stores and made for great ratings. The FDEC added nuclear weapons to the ULO\$Unlawful Ordinance List.\$ \t\n\nThe spectators wouldn't be mourned. \t\n\nThe driver wouldn't be missed. \t\n\nBig Pizza would go on. " ]	1
	[WP] Having successfully created a time machine, you decide to save the Alexandrian library. Unfortunately, your machine only has enough power to get you to the day after the fire. Sifting through the ruins, you discover signs that the fire actually originated from... an electrical fault?!?	[ "Note to self, next time I'm trying to travel in time, I might succeed. Prepare for that. More accordingly, put clothes that won't call attention in ancient Egypt. Don't put your red \"Arizona\" t-shirt. Also, don't forget to actually geolocate the place that you want to visit, so you don't have to wonder around a city that you don't know and where you can't communicate with the locals, because of the language (and also your outfit may spook them).\n\nThis time, but only this time, being distinctively from the 21st century may have helped... because someone approached me. At first, looked like any beggar. But he stood up and walked along with me. After some steps, he quietly spoke in English. \n\"What are you doing here?\" \n\"I wanted to see the library, but I couldn't get enough power to travel further to the past. Where are the ruins?\" \n\"Huh. Funny. You know where the library is. We need help with the backup.\" \n“The backup?” \n“I know I’m no one in the order, but you don’t have to play like we know nothing. You told us, what we were doing here, remember? That’s why we joined.” \n“Huh. You’re the funny one.” I told him as I walked through a street cross. He stood still.\n“Where are you going? It’s left from here!” \n“I’m being funny.” \n“Asshole.”\nWe arrived to what was left from the library, and there are people around it forbidding entrance to people. We walk through easily. Some of the people in the barrier nod at me. As we get in, all of the people inside are trying to remove any vestige of installation around the building. This didn’t caught my eye at first, because that’s something you should do when you’re cleaning a site, right? Take the wires out, the transformer… wait, what? Aren’t we in ancient Egypt? Why is all of this here? \n“So, next stop, Malta, right?” The voice of a woman behind my back asks. “I’m sorry, what do you mean?” I ask as I turn around. She is surprised. “Man, if Malta is responsible for this, I can’t wait to get there”, says a woman in her 30s, dressed like local aristocracy, or whatever the term is for the rich people of this time and place. She comes close and playfully grabs my t-shirt. “I thought we had thrown away this one… so, everything according to plan in Malta?” I guess I have to play along. “Yes, everything is fine. We have to make a trip back to our time though, to get rid of this, right?” I say, pointing at all the electrical stuff. “Or, we can take it with us to the refuge, we have space there”, she says. She hugs me now, and says to my ear “Don’t worry; we got it right this time.” \nI wonder what she meant by that.\n" ]	1
	[WP] Humanity has succesfully made contact with alien life. Problem is that the rest of the galxaxy is absolutely terrified of humans, due to them being the only meat eating species to achieve space travel.	[ "\"Child why are you moving so slow?! They're almost here! Get inside quickly!\"\n\n\n\"Ugh! We do this every single time! It's not like it does any good. What's the point?\" She fiddles with a piece of kelp tied around her wide carapace as she ambles towards her father. The antennae on the top of her head swing back and forth rapidly. \"It's not like hiding has ever saved anyone.\" \n\n\n\"Young'n don't speak to your father like that! And don't think I don't see you wiggling your antenna that way!\"\n\n\n\"Whatever,\" she says to herself under her breath. She continues her slow pace towards home.\n\n\nShe eventually makes it under cover. Her father scrambles to move anything he can find in order to conceal their home.\n\n\n\"That should do. Neby, once this is over we are going to have a very serious discussion about that attitude of yours.\" His antennae stand nearly perfectly straight up. Neby's antennae wiggle slightly as she skulks away. \"Sorry,\" she says, unable to hid the sarcasm in her voice.\n\n\nThe mother moves toward her husband and grabs a hold of him before he can continue. \"Let it go, Harry. She's safe now. Why don't I get you something to eat.\" She gently urges him towards a sandy area near the back of their home. She moves off toward the opposite wall to grab him a snack. \n\n\nShe makes it halfway there before a huge net comes crashing into their home. She has seen this type of instrument before. The painful memory of her parents being ripped away come rushing back in a flash. \"THEY'RE HERE!!! QUICK GET UNDERGROUND!\"\n\n\nBut it's too late. The net has engulfed her family in one smooth motion.\n\n\n\"Dude! I told you I saw them shuffle in here. Even tried moving leaves and twigs in front of the hole to hide. Ha!\" The scraggly-haired human dressed in board shorts and nothing else lifts the net until it's level with his eyes. \"You think you're some kind of smarty pants don't ya? Dumb crabs.\"\n\n\nHe stumbles backwards, nearly falling over a large rock sticking out of the sand.\n\n\n\"Yo, Bri! Check it out. Got 3 good ones. Didn't I tell you I could do this?\" He gives his friend a smirk and slap on the back.\n\n\n\"Beginner's luck, bro! Let's head back. I'm starving.\"\n\n", "\"Uosowi, time to rendezvous?\"\n\n\"Approximately three minutes and forty seconds at full burn, Admiral.\"\n\n\"Good. Maintain current approach vector. Have they responded to our hailing signal?\"\n\nUosowi beeped affirmatively. \"Yes sir. They've lowered their shields. We are still attempting to decode and translate their response. Anything else, sir?\"\n\n\"That will be all.\"\n\nThe Admiral dismissively waved a feathered wing, and Uosowi, the onboard AI control system, vanished from his interface. In the distance, Avwiay, Galactic Astronomical Designation K3451XH, better known to us as Proxima Centauri, shone dimly. Proxima Centauri B dominated the bridge viewport to the right, a rocky, terrestrial planet with only a few thin, wispy clouds to shelter the small human colonies underneath them. He looked at the planet with disdain. He doubted such an arid, dry desert world would be of any use to the Confederation, and it was a far cry from the thick, heavy clouds that blanketed the world that his bird like species called home. A strange race, these humans, he mused.\n\nOver two decades earlier, the Galactic Confederation had established first contact with the so called \"humans\" when an asteroid survey drone encountered a strange piece of debris on the edge of Confederation territory. It appeared to be a long defunct satellite of primitive construction who's payload consisted solely of a shining, metal plated disc filled with strange markings and grooves. After it was recovered, researchers quickly discovered it was a primitive drive, a crude, analog form of stored information hidden within the disc's many grooves. More importantly, the markings on the disc seemed to be instructions. Long hours of analysis and tests were done in an attempt to unscramble the markings and access the contents of the mysterious, explainable artifact, but the technology to do so had been out of use for millennia. The galactic scientific community was abuzz with theories on it's origins, ranging from wormhole encounters, time travel, or more outlandishly, a relic from a new space faring species. To everyone's shock, the last theory turned out to be right. When the disc was finally decoded, a message was played from a species never seen, in a language never heard before, a snapshot of all the animals, sounds, music, and people their verdant, blue world had to offer. The first contact between the Confederation and another race in a millennium.\n\nThe Confederation's best linguists worked feverishly to construct as much of the language as they could out ofthe single recording and letter that had been recovered from the disc. Months of debate and revisions nearly killed the project several times before completion. The language was unlike anything they had ever seen, with a staggering variety of unique dialects and sublanguages \$seemingly from a lack of a single standardized human language\$ that varied from speaker to speaker. Whereas other races would communicate in sharp clicks or soft warbles or low, long rumbles, the humans seemed to talk with strange moaning and bellowing. It reminded the Admiral of the grunts of the fat, sluggish oewoa that were a common sight in hive city landfills and dumpster in it's almost animalistic quality. Finally, after years of laboring, the task was finished. Member species from across the galaxy sent their best envoys and finest ships, and the great diplomatic fleet set off on it's mission of peace, led by none other than the Admiral himself. By now, the human fleet was in view. Their utilitarian, metallic construction contrasted sharply with the sleek, organic Confederation cruisers that loomed before them. He felt a mixture of amusement and pity toward the hopelessly outclassed humans. How terrifying it must be, for them to put themselves at the mercy of a civilization far superior to theirs, he thought. A single flashing icon began glowing on his interface.\n\n\"Transcribing complete. Would you like me to show you their message, sir?\" Uosoli asked, shimmering back into being on his screen.\n\nHe gruffly nodded. \"Patch it through.\" His pupils widened as it loaded. \"A... menu? What are they doing sending us pictures of meals? Are those mushrooms over there? No... wait...\"\n\nAn aide rushed to his side as he fell to his knees and started to profusely vomit. \"Sir? What's wrong? Call medical up here stat!\" she yelled.\n\n\"Abort... turn it all around... now, damnit!\" he forced through retching and desperate gasps for air.\n\n\"What? Sir, what's wrong?\"\n\nOn the screen was a short greeting. \"Humanity welcomes you. Would you care to join us for a meal?\"" ]	2
	[WP] Every new born is given the exact time and date of their death down to the milisecond- but not the circumstances. This system has never failed. Not until the clock ticks one second over your time of death.	[ "It was more then a second I actually got, althoug the few people that decided to spend some of the precious time they have left, saying ferwell to a no-good like me, initially thought otherwise. \n\nThe past few minutes seemed as eternity, and, despite the loud cries, prieste's preyer in the background, and all other noisies whithin my room, the only thing I could hear was the ticking of that clock.\n\nTick~\n\nHow many seconds do I have left, came to mind a coupple of times but was soon replaced with another, more daring question; does it even matter? Off course it matterd, every second was just another oppertunity to try to comprehande why I even got the chance to exist in the first place, and, if that had an answer, perhaps make all the previous seconds worth it.\n\nTock~\n\n\nThe memories I have, the glue that keept \"me\" together throug time and space, the essence of my whole being, will perish alongside me, and even the memory of \"me\" that lives in others, will eventually perish alongside them.\n\nTick~\n\nIf it was all for the joy of the ride, then my joy is meaningless as not even the momories of it will remain nor will there be an \"I\" to percieve them. In the end, even if I concluded what the purpose of my life is, which will soon become \"was\", it does me no good, as there will be no me to do good to.\n\nTock~\n\nAnd so again, the question presentes itself, how to spend the remaining few seconds I have of conciousness when no option seems to make sense, neither for me nor anyone else, at least, not in the long run, as what will remain of \"me\" in others is but a selected fraction of their perception of myself, twisted truth based on biased and falty observations, just a sketch of a sketch that loses accuracy with each new generation that even tries to draw it, untill finnaly, only a dot remains to represent it, a dot no one cares about anymore, just like they wouldn't care about any other dot. \n\nTick~\n\nAnd back to square one, it sems as though, despite all the logical futility of such a question, my mind refuses to let go of knowing how much time I have left, for how much longer can it ponder the purpouse of those few remaining seconds it has left to ponder over their purpose. It's a vicious cycle, one that keeps going around and around, just like that annoying clock on the wall.\n\nTock~\n\nPerhaps this was the moment in which sheer curiosity overpowered a deeply rooted fear of death, or it might be a result of a panicked mind trying to assess how much longer can it ponder about it's own existance, that made me look at that clock on the wall. My time was over, this was the last second and I had no answer, and with it, every second that came before had no purpouse. \n\nTick~\n\nI heard the sound despite not thinking it could ever happen again, for this was supposed to be my last second. No machinery equiped to my laying body reported my passing, yet the only one rejoicing was I, as my guests were allready too bussy mourning their lost to even notice their surroundings. It may seem that I only got a second more to live, yet the death prediction system wasn't off once in the hundread years since it's implementation, as such, that one second less it gave me was surely not the only one it missed. What seemed like the last moments of conciousness suddenly turned into an eternety ahead of me, endless possibilities just waiting to be grabed. Perhaps I did die, in a sense, as it seems that the \"me\" witnessing this miracle is no longer the same person, but one that died and came back, rid of the paralyzing fear of death and the constant reminder of our upcoming death.\n\n", "Is this happening? I questioned my entire existence. This has never happened. What have I achieved?\n\nI stood in the living room where I had a clock hanging above a picture and my recently deceased brother and sister. They hadn't been as lucky as I was at this moment. Their time had came and gone with the expected result.\n\nMy sister was a teacher at a dance studio which she had owned for 5 years. My brother was naturally her business partner and her best friend, after all, twins are said to be inseparable.\n\nTristan was born first of the pair, and after the doctors cleaned him of the blood and fluid, a date and time could be seen on the back of his neck. I suppose it was destined to be that as Kayla entered the world almost immediately after Tristan, she would also be leaving at the exact same time, on the exact same day.\n\nEveryone speculated, we all came to the conclusion that it would be a car accident, or a plane crash, anything that involved us being together and sudden impact. I mean, it had to be, right?\n\nThe three of us were supposed to go to the cinema, but I was unwell, so we cancelled our plans. I was not unwell. I was never unwell.\n\nI heard Tristan on the phone to Kayla. The twins and I had a mixed up relationship. I wasn't like them, I was an outsider. I wasn't connected like the two of them were, they always knew what the other was thinking and when the other was in trouble. You know, the usual twin stuff that people talk about but is still shadowed with scepticism. But, I can assure you, it's real.\n\n\"I'll see you tomorrow Kayla, I love you!\" said Tristan as their routine nightly phone call came to it's end.\n\n\"I love you, too. Oh, and tell Parker to make sure he takes his medication, you know how he gets!\"\n\n\"I will, good night.\"\n\nTristan came through to my room where I was lying on my bed, pretending to have been watching some documentary about how an octopus uses its environment to stalk its prey. I was listening to their phone call for some time. He cautiously reminded me to take my medication, after all, he knows how I get. I ignored him as I had found myself engrossed with the octopus documentary. I'd love to be an octopus. So intelligent, so independent, so fluent and graceful, yet so deadly.\n\n\"Parker!\" Tristan exclaimed, \"take your medication!\"\n\nTristan made movement towards the television to switch it off, but stopped before he even made it half way. My head spun like a startled cat, as I found myself drawing my attention away from the documentary, and towards him. I wasn't quite looking at him, as I was more staring straight through him. The man I seen before me was not my brother, not in my eyes.\n\nI did not take my medication. Not for a week.\n\nTristan was tied to a chair in the living room. I can't remember much of the last hour but he was badly beaten and my hands were a mess. I had dad's old guns tucked in to my jeans. Tristan attempted to plead with me as tears poured from his hurting eyes, but I heard nothing, despite his constant efforts to scream being blocked and muffled by the socks in his mouth.\n\nDing, dong.\n\nJust as I expected.\n\nBang, bang, bang.\n\nThe door was locked so Kayla had no way to let herself in.\n\nI strolled down the hallway towards the door, and unlocked it. As I opened the door, calmly, I asked her what was wrong that she had made the trip across town at this time.\n\n\"I feel weird, Parker. Something isn't right. Is Tristan ok?\"\n\nShe was already in tears, she knew he wasn't. She had hoped by not being with us at the date and time they were due to die, that we could somehow beat the system. How wrong she was.\n\nKayla was tied to a chair back-to-back with Tristan. I can't remember much of the last ten minutes but she was badly beaten and my hands were even more of a mess. I still had dad's old guns tucked in to my jeans. Kayla attempted to plead with me as tears streamed from her hurting eyes, but I heard nothing, despite her constant efforts to scream being blocked and muffled by the towel stuffed in her mouth.\n\nTristan had practically given up, he was tired, weak.\n\nI had spent a lot of time up until this moment reading through various websites on possible ways to beat the system. Nobody had ever done it, is it possible?\n\nCrime wasn't part of our society. The world was in harmony and people got along; despite race, gender, nationality, sexual preference, or any other labelled groups that were recognised before the world leaders bred us in to being these things. These things with dates and times. These things with limitations of life. These things with an ever nearing loss of hope and will to survive longer than we are told we should.\n\nIt was almost time, I had planned this without really knowing it. Subconsciously, all my actions throughout the past week had set this exact situation up. I never kept an eye on the clock as these events unfolded. I let happen what I felt was right, and damn, it felt almost too right.\n\nTick, tock, tick, tock.\n\nThe ticking sound of the second hand on the clock silenced the room, at the same time, it sounded louder than ever.\n\nThey knew it was coming, they had known since they were able to read and write. Acceptance of the circumstances, and the knowledge of their inability to change them, had set in. Yet, they still cried, in silence.\n\nThey kept looking around the room, waiting for something to happen. It wasn't going to.\n\nOne last breath.\n\nInhale... Exhale... Boom!\n\nThe guns fired synchronously as a red mist covered my clothes and face. I closed my eyes as I held hope for nothing to happen. And it did. Nothing, I mean. I wasn't dead.\n\nI rushed to look at the date and time on the necks of the two people I had been closest to, yet furthest away from, in the world.\n\n\"01/06/18 - 22:31:27\" was what I read on both necks. I ran to the bathroom, twisting and turning to see if my mark was altered. Had I only delayed the inevitable? No. It was gone. Completely gone.\n\nI did it. I had no intention in telling anyone as the anarchy that would ensue would turn the world back to how it was before. Crime, violence, labels.\n\n...\n\n70 years has past and I haven't aged a bit. I beat the system and have been dubbed as an alien. The thing with no end, they call me. Nobody knows what really happened.\n\nIn my own greed to beat the system and extend the length of my life, I have subjected myself to endless suffering. Knowing what I done to Tristan and Kayla eats away at me every second of every day. Nobody wants to speak to me, I get funny looks and laughed at by kids, while parents usher them along so they don't get too close to me.\n\nSo here I go, for the 875th time. I kick the chair in my empty apartment. All I can see is the same clock on a different wall. An hour passes, as I still stare at the second hand ticking, tocking, ticking, tocking. Hoping that my time comes.\n\nThe noose is due to snap any minute.\n\nWhy couldn't they accept me for the triplet I always was?" ]	2
	[WP] In the future, all 21st century data is considered public domain. While doing a class project on genealogy, you find something shocking about your ancestors search history.	[ "There was a single moment, theorised about by nerdy scientists and nerdy normal people for aeons. At some point, the amount of data we had stored would be so great as to dwarf all information ever produced before we started archiving.\n\nThing is, everyone was so obsessed about when and how that day would come (with little fanfare but the nerdiest parties ever hosted by anyone ever), that they never stopped to consider why we were doing any of it in the first place. Most data is completely irrelevant to anyone, a catalogue of crappy duck faces, search histories, and doodles in MS paint.\n\nI was one of the few who had reason to look into the archives. See, I was in a genealogy class, the one discipline more useless than literature, because we already knew everyone's lineage. That's what we spent the last few centuries recording! Somewhere on the data banks inside the core of Pluto (we'd hollowed that out for more hard drives) was every family tree in our gigantic incestuous history. I would know, my first genealogy module was \"Incest and You\".\n\nIt was when I was looking through my great^18 grandfather's search history(to figure out his interests), that I discovered two things. First of all, he was a very boring man who did very boring things. His homepage was the eBay results for 'Newspapers'. Secondly, he had a far skimpier search history than most others I'd seen. See, most people had tons of searches, ever since Google implemented to search for what you were thinking about before you even asked. So why was his search history so devoid of random thoughts like \"Hey a squirrel!\" and \"Nice ass.\"?\n\nSo, either he was a boring man who never had a thought in his life, or he somehow opted out of Google's policy. That was ridiculous. How would he have evaded the Google Inquisition?\n\nI got to digging. Our immense library of 21st century traffic cameras and the enhanced backgrounds of cat videos gave us plenty of information on known associates and enemies.\n\nUnfortunately, he didn't hang out much on social media, either. I checked out his wife, Lucinda, which opened up a few more doors.\n\nHis wife seemed to rub shoulders with many people, the influential and the rich. They didn't rub shoulders so much as rub backs, but there was contact all the same. Why was none of this reflected in the man's history. Perhaps it had been edited. Changed somehow. But who would be interested in Larry Page?" ]	1
	[WP] Your village agreed before you were born, to fill your life with hardships to make you the strongest leader that ever lived. They also agreed to tell you they were doing this in purpose when you were 20. They forgot.	[ "\"I told you a dozen times already, I'm not gonna run against Dewey. He'll make a fine mayor. Stop pestering me.\"\n\nDewey is the most intelligent, handsome, sociable, and good fortuned man to come out of this town. My mother doesn't like him though, says he's \"privileged\" and \"out of touch\" with the struggles of us working folk. \n\n\"All you gotta do is put your name in. You deserve this.\"\n\nI don't know how she thinks I got the time to bother with politics, I have enough work here already and not enough brain to mayor even this small town. She don't like Dewey though.\n\n\"Lookit how much Dewey has to keep organized, he runs the vineyard and the Chantinear well enough you know he has experience just let him do his job.\"\n\n\"He run the pub to dirt is what you mean! George, you're father always said you'd be mayor one day.\"\n\n\"You know what I mean Ma. And that was before the blight, the crash... the dogs... I'm bad luck. This town don't need more of that.\"\n\nIt was true that Dewey wasn't generally regarded as much of a businessman. His pub manager Laney had to let sister go last month cause of the pub not taking in enough to fill her paycheck. But that wasn't Dewey's fault, this town just has bad luck. Not a year on the farm has gone by without some misfortune or other conspiring to tie me down, it's a miracle Dewey has done so well himself next door to us. Man is fortunate, when he starts running things I'm sure our luck will turn round. \n\n\"If Dewey goes unopposed he's gonna ruin this town just the way he ruined the Chantinear. Do you really want that?\"\n\nIf I was mayor, it'd be swarms of locusts and pestilence every year. Or worse. Can't get much worse for me though. Last year's crops failed from that blight that hit out farm. Neighbor Lewis says it's my fault, \"bad seed\" in our field spread to his now he's out over $100. I didn't tell Ma, but I borrowed closer to $500 to settle with him an' the others. What's $500 more when you're as deep in the hole as I am?\n\n\"I can't take any time off of the farm, you know that. Someone's gotta put food in this pantry and you know Mary ain't gonna get her job back.\"\n\nThe pub's patrons stopped tipping her so well after the accident. I already borrowed $800 to pay for the surgery, selling the car wasn't worth enough to cover the doctor's fees after it was totaled. Fortune has a way of pissin on me like that. If only I'd been behind the wheel, Ma wanted me to make that trip to sell our wheat like I done every year. But that year Mary learned to drive and, well, I suppose it ain't worth talkin about. She won't be driving much anymore anyway. My bad luck has a way of dripping onto those around me.\n\n\"You done the best you could, things just don't always turn out as they're supposed to. Pa always said you'd be the strongest man in this town.\"\n\nOh we had a good farm before Pa died, Lewy says we have the most fertile land west of the lake. That is, it used to have. Now I'm lucky if I manage to make enough that I don't have to sell off any more land parcels. Three more years like this one and there won't be much of a farm left. Maybe before then I'll have another accident. My life insurance should pay for the two of them to live in comfort for a long time. That's the most I can hope for with my luck. \n\n\"I ain't got no right to tell others how to live their lives. I been hardly hangin on as it is.\"\n\nI got my Pa's curse. Every year without fail something worse comes around the corner. \"Character building\" is what Ma calls it, more like eternal sufferin if you ask me. I'd go to church more if it hadn't burned down during Sunday school. Ma says there's no way I coulda saved all those kids but I know that it was my fault in the first place. God ain't got no love for me, and when Billy screams inside my head at night, that's his way of remindin me that I'm a no good failure who couldn't save a child let aside myself. \n\n\"You've survived it all though, there ain't nothin that you can't do now.\"\n\nMy scars make it hard to move. But the field needs plowing, and no one's gonna work this no good life but me. Might as well get rid of this bad luck for good, I've already modified the tractor's gas to stick so's I can get out and have my accident. This tractor will be the death of me, but when I die my family will be free. \n\n\"I'm goin out to plow the field, you go on into town and vote. Cast mine for Dewey, ain't no one else runnin anyhow.\"\n" ]	1
Edit: her* neck	[WP] You live in a society where tattoos determine your class. You're walking home at night and see a woman running with a forbidden symbol on a neck. Intriuged, you follow her.	[ "The crisp air of a winters twilight beckoned me. My leather journal layed in my lap. It's parchment covered in a light layer of dust. Designs spread out sparsely on the pages. Each pattern captivating a gorgeous, detailed meaning. There were some engraved with astronomy. Most filled with the words blue blood. I'd thought of the irony of these words. They were post to mean nobility. Yet for me they meant my actual color. The notebook comfortably closed on its leather bound. My eyes stated at the sky. A new moon shining as I walked towards my home. No it wasn't a home more of a shelter. There was no sentimental attachment towards the building. A frustrated sigh escaped my mouth. I knew it was risky for someone of \"high class\" to leave the compound of safety. Although the alley seemed to lead toward a more remarkable adventure. \n\nThis alley, although filled with damp memories of what uest to be, still seemed like something better. My leather journal in my hand. These tattoos determined who you were. There was no choice of what could be. Only that your future was settled by your marking. No one knew when this law took it's fold in the world. Nor did anyone know what the past held in its contents. My thoughts held me from the reality of the present. A quick clack of a heel caught my attention. As soon as my head turned they were gone. Each second passing lead to a new fate. I could tell they were a women from the way they ran. They should have just been a simple low class women. Yet a certain mark on her neck intrigued me. The symbol a circle with a 6 pointed star. There was never anything like it I'd seen before. My fascination with the unknown caused me to follow her. Knowing that she was being followed, her pace quickened. The star shining brightly by the moonlight. \n\nMy heels turning on their own axis. There was that tattoo standing on the back of her neck. A hand gestured toward me. \"Do you know this symbol, curious one\" she spoke softly. Her words seem to mystify me. I only slightly nodded my head from side to side. \"Do you know what day it is?\" She questioned. My ideas swarmed my head as I pondered why she asked such a thing. \"December 2nd\" I replied. A light hearted grin smeared on her face. Her hands reaching for the symbol on her neck. \"This is not a 5 pointed star.\" She gazed \"This is the mark of the star of David.\"", "Pain seized me as fire raced down the the symbol I drew, it covered my entire right arm, marking the skin with arcane patterns. The pain was unbelievable, it pushed out all other coherent thoughts from my mind, trying to drive me to insanity. It had to happen now, I will not get another chance. A tooth cracked as I bit down harder on the wooden block in my mouth. With my mind, I pushed past the haze of pain and released the magic. The fire flared, and so did the pain. Darkness enveloped me.\n\nIt was well past sunset by the time I woke up, the full moon peeked at me from the mouth of the cave. Sitting up, I glanced down at my arm, the fresh markings were still glowing with residue magic.\n\n\"Ha\\- Aha!\" a laugh escaped my throat as I jumped up. I did it! Ominous shadows danced along the walls as I lifted up my arm and admired the glowing symbols. I could feel the new power flowing through me as I pointed my hand down the cave. The air hummed with energy as I focused my magic, the symbols' glowing intensified, changing from a dull grey to a brilliant blue. I could feel the magic gathering in me, and with a thought, I directed it at my new sigils and unleashed it.\n\nJagged lightning arced from my hand and obscured my sight with a blinding flash of light, splinters of rock ricocheted off my wards as the almighty boom of thunder split the silence of the night. I quickly leaned against the wall, expecting the usual dizziness after a high energy spell, but there was none, it was truly a success, I felt stronger than ever. I laughed again. \"This will show them,\" I thought as I waited for my eyes to readjust to the darkness, \"This will teach the elders not to underestimate me.\"\n\nI quickly stuffed my belongings back into my satchel, it was late and I felt there was a warm bed with my name on it back at home, besides, that firework show must have attracted some attention, and I did not fancy answering anybody's questions tonight. I left the cave, and made my way to the town which was close by.\n\n“They thought magic needs to be inherited, but I just proved them wrong. Everyone has some magic in them, but to be able to use this magic, you simply needed to use various forms of symbols to amplify that magic. What I had accomplished tonight, it was truly a breakthrough, a personalised amplifier for magic. Knowledge once again shall triumph over linage!” Still buzzing from the joy of my success, my mind wandered off on its own accord, “Low energy magic is one thing, but high energy magic, destructive elemental magic!” I was so preoccupied with my own thinking that I nearly walked straight into the checkpoint. Cursing, I quickly ducked behind a tree and touched a symbol on my left ankle, which I made just a week prior. I took a moment to channel my magic, and vanished from view, this time making sure my backpack was included in the spell as well.\n\nAfter sneaking past the town gates, I chose to remain invisible while I walked towards my house in order to avoid any unnecessary attention. Suddenly, I heard footsteps behind me. It sounded hurried and close. I turned around, only to be pushed aside by a woman running past. In those few seconds, I caught a glimpse of the side of her neck, and saw a strange symbol etched into her skin. I stood in the the street, and watched her figure disappear rapidly into the night as I tried to process what just happened. Realisation dawned upon me, she was another symbol dependant magician! And she pushed me! Whilst I was invisible! I looked back down the street again, the woman was barely visible now. I sprinted after her, the warm bed would have to wait, I needed to know what kind of arcane symbols this lady was packing, perhaps I could learn a thing or two.\n\nI rounded the corner just in time to see the mysterious woman duck between two houses. It was a dead end, that much I knew, as I happened to live in one of them. I slowed down as I approached the alley and used a slightly different flavour of the invisibility spell, this time bending the light around me rather than simply hiding behind a projection of what was behind me. It used more energy, but I hoped it would throw this lady off and buy me a few seconds if she decided to attack. I was about to peek around the corner when a hand shot around the corner and dragged me into the alley.\n\nI opened my mouth to cry for help, but was quickly silenced by a knife held up against my supposedly invisible throat.\n\n“Who are you? Why are you following me?” It was the woman, I could feel the raw power of the magic pumping through her, it was extraordinary. And that strange symbol on her neck, it seemed to drain the light around it instead of glowing like the symbols were supposed to do. \n\n“I will not ask again.” The woman pressed down harder with the knife. I cursed my thoughts for wandering at the wrong time again before answering.\n\n“Just a magician intrigued by a fellow magician’s crafts.”\n\nThe woman looked at me intently when I suddenly felt a presence brush against my mind, cutting off my flow of magic. I gasped as my invisibility spell was disrupted.\n\n“Oh good, you are not an undead.” The woman was visibly relieved, and the knife was taken off my neck. I saw the crest of the rogue guild with three crosses underneath carved onto the sheath. It was the the rank markings of a general, at least that explained why she could break my invisibility, the rogues are known for their counterspells. “I need to keep going, they are following me, I cannot endanger this town.” She muttered as she peered out at the street, as if preparing to leave.\n\n“Hey, hey lady. What is going on?” I asked as I picked myself up, “Rogue generals don’t just visit a border town like this, and they certainly don’t hide in alleys.”\n\nStill looking out at the street, the general replied, “The undeads are coming, they are sweeping through the countryside, I need to warn the guildmaster. The sce\\-”\n\nSuddenly, I felt a sharp pain in my back. I cried out as I saw the tip of a short sword protrude from my chest. \n\n“Hollynys the Shadowbearer, what a pleasant surprise” The voice sounded unnatural and strangely echoey. I tried to turn to face my attacker, but my knees gave out and I sank to the floor. The rogue whirled around in surprise, and the last thing I saw before the darkness claimed me was the look of fear in her eyes.", "I stared down at the new tattoo on my forearm and grinned. The star and crown was a beautiful tribute to my families accomplishments. You see, I live in a society where people are \"labeled\". \n\nWhen the New Rule arose about 10 years ago, they made the citizens get tattoos based on their socioeconomic status. Some people work hard and further themselves; while others never make it out of the lower rankings. Luckily for me though, I was born into nobility. As far back as my dad can trace his lineage, you can see people of high importance. But being of nobility doesn't come without a price. \n\nI was sheltered as a child. Before the New Rule Order overthrew the old government, the world was a dangerous place. I guess many parts of it are still dangerous today. My parents kept me sheltered to protect me. They said that others would use me because of my nobility. My mom and dad were never home much when I was growing up; and when they were home, it was constant fighting. My parents would come home tired and take out their anger on each other, and more often, on my sister and I. \n\nWe were raised by a live in Nanny named Amy Letta. Miss Letta, was a sweet lady who wanted nothing but the best for my sister and I. Unfortunately my parents did not share that same mentality for us kids. They pictured us as burdens, as an added expense. I tend to think that’s the reason my sister ran away from home shortly after she turned 18. I was mad that she left me, but I can't say I didn't blame her. She had it a lot worse than I did. \n\nSo here I am, finally at the age of 18, seated in a tattoo parlor permanently \"branded\" as a person of nobility. I couldn't help but think though, \"is this the life I really want?\"\n\nI got up from the chair and slipped my jacket on. I said goodbye to the artist and made my way out into the cool, dark evening. I was stopped by a strange sound coming from a dark alley alongside of the tattoo parlor. I paused, very much aware of the dangers in doing so, but something was drawing me down that alley. I took a deep breath and proceeded into the darkness.\n\nOut of no where a figure came charging towards me. The mysterious figure brushed into me and without the slightest hesitation, continued on. Despite it all being a blur, I could tell that the figure was a woman, probably a little older then me... And was that a tattoo I saw on her neck?\n\nI began running after the mysterious woman in hopes of catching up to her. There was something about her, it was almost as if I knew her. \$But from where?\$ I needed to find out what she was doing behind the tattoo parlor, and why she ran off so quickly. As I ran after her, my mind kept going back to the tattoo on her neck. She ran past me so quickly, but I could visualize her tattoo as if I had been looking at it in a picture. It was a skull with two small stars where the eyes should've been. Stars and crowns were markings reserved only for members of the highest classes, while the skull represented members from a class of the lowest of lows. Why would someone have a tattoo representing both classes on it. \n\nDespite my wandering mind, I continued running onward. I followed the mysterious woman through the quiet city streets toward the outskirts of town. I knew I shouldn’t leave the confines of the main city, but something \$I can’t explain it\$ continued to draw me after this mysterious woman. I fixed my eyes on her and continued running. \n\nI knew I was getting closer to her because despite the ever increasing darkness, she began to grow clearer and clearer in my vision. She ran into an old abandoned house and slammed the door shut behind her. I walked up to the house, my heart pounding in my chest \$from running? No, mostly fear\$. I placed my ear up to the door and listened. \n\nInside I heard speaking, but not the type of speaking I was used to. There was no yelling, there was no cursing, and there was no anger. There was love in the voices. That was something I’d never truly heard. I wanted to knock on the door but my body felt frozen. All I could do was listen, so that is what I did. \n\nAfter some time of listening to the conversations I built up the courage to knock at the door.\n\nI heard footsteps shuffle and the door cracked open. An old man stood at the door. I couldn’t help but notice the skull tattoo on his neck as well. \n\n“Can I help you?” the man asked.\n\n“I saw someone, a woman, back in the city. And she led me here. Can I speak with her?”\n\nThe man said nothing. He only stared at me with a slight bewilderment in his eyes. I stood silently for what felt like an eternity when all of the sudden, the woman stepped out from behind him. \n\n“Amelia?!” I stood with my mouth wide open in astonishment. \n\n“Hi Paul,” my sister replied. \n\n“But… you… you left us. You ran away. What are you doing out here with these people?”\n\nAmelia looked at me. I could see the pain and sadness in her eyes, “I had to get away. You saw how mom and dad were acting, you saw what all the money and importance were doing to them. I knew that there had to be something bigger for all of us. Something besides the money and the fame.”\n\n“But you just left us.. You left me!” \n\nAt that she buried her face in her hands and started to cry. “I didn’t want to leave you. I had no choice. Mom and Dad liked you more then me. If I took you with me they would have found me… they would have found us. And then what?! I knew the only way to get away was to leave… just me. I’m sorry; I wish it woulda been different.”\n\n“So why did you come back to the city?”\n\n“To find you. I knew today was your 18th birthday and I knew you’d be at that stupid tattoo parlor, the same one they made me go to. And I was hoping to convince you to come with me, to forget everything about nobility and class systems, to live out here with me.”\n\n“So why did you run away,” I asked. \n\n“Cuz I saw how you looked at that stupid star and crown tattoo. And I was afraid.”\n\n“Afraid of what?”\n\n“Afraid that you loved the life you had. The life of money, and fame, and importance.” She continued to fight back tears between each word. \n\n“Amelia, I hate that life. I hate the anger that I’m always greeted with at home. I hate the constant quest for more money. I hate the façade I need to put on everyday, pretending to be happy. But most of all, I hate that I don’t have you. I miss you Amelia.”\n\nI wrapped her up in a huge hug and she cried on my shoulder. We stayed that way for what felt like an eternity. Brother and sister, reunited after all those years. \n\nAfter some time she looked up at me. “What do you say about having a go out here with us. Giving up your past life. A life not all about fortune and fame. A life about family.”\n\n“I would love that.”\n\nI followed her and the old man back inside. She introduced me to all her friends that she now considers family. Friends that I too hoped to one day call my family. \n\nThe old man looked at me and asked, “what do you say about fixing that tattoo?” I nodded approval. I sat down at the table and watched with a sense of relief as he began covering my star and crowns with lines that I could only hope would forge together to create a skull. ", "\"Ma'am, why do you have a severed head in your possession?\"\n\n\"W-what are you talking about? This is just a...prop...for a play...\"\n\n\"Looks real to me. I'm going to have to take you to the station for questioning.\"\n\n---\n\nPrompt didn't say that it had to be on her neck.", "It wasn't the tattoo itself that intrigued me so much. It was the Lion's Head, forbidden for at least the last twenty years, but the several of the people I ran with had forbidden tattoos. That by itself was interesting yes, but I was more captivated by where the tattoo was. \n\nThe tattoo was on the long animal neck that she carried in her hands. Animal tattoos were a special kind of heresy, anyone caught with an animal that had been branded with a human tattoo was up for a very miserable, very long rest of their existence. And a forbidden tattoo no less...\n\nSo I followed her. Let's just say I have a thing for crazy.\n\nShe walked at a brisk speed, but not as quickly as you would expect from someone holding an item so dastardly. I followed her on light feet, and the wolf tattoo hidden on my own shoulder became warm as I pulled from it. She led me through the backstreets, and I was got the impression she knew her way through the dark side of town well. \n\nShe came to a crossroads and looked back. I ducked into an alcove, hoping she hadn't seen me. I poked my head out, and she was gone.\n\nWhat?\n\nI cautiously approached the point I had last seen her, this was turning from a fun game to something a little darker. I wouldn't put it past the Mark Warden to set this up as some sort of trap for me. He and I had a long standing game of cat and mouse, and I was rather keen to stay the uncaught mouse. Nothing jumped out of the shadows at me, and I came to the crossroads unharmed.\n\nStill no sign of her. Drats. Call me stubborn, but I wasn't going to give up this game so easy.\n\nI drew more from the wolf tattoo on my shoulder, its comfortable warmth turning into a stinging heat. The night became less dark, and the scents and sounds of the town flooded my nostrils and ears. I sniffed at the air, trying to filter out the rank smell of humans as best I could. There was no use trying to find that woman's scent among all those others, so I searched for something else. \n\nThere. The animal she had been carrying smelled like a different kind of flesh from the normal cow and pig you found in town, and in a second I was off again. I loped down alleys and backways, coming to a section of town even I normally avoided: The Pits. The Pits were where the homeless, diseased, and other pitiful types were sent, a cesspool where even the law rarely ventured.\n\nThe scent was hard to follow here due to the overwhelming smell of rot, I had to double back several times, but eventually I was rewarded.\n\nA small hut, erected in one of the darkest corners of the pit, was where my trail ended. There were a few people inside, and I crept closer to see if I could catch anything.\n\n\"We'll need at least four more of these, ya know,\" a gravelly male voice said.\n\n\"Once we've established it works, my contact will supply it,\" a woman's voice said. A grunt was all that replied.\n\nA third, whispery voice uttered something, too quiet for even my enhanced hearing.\n\n\"Only one,\" the woman replied. \"In fact, he's outside now.\"\n\nThe door burst open and I scrambled backwards. I had barely gone ten feet before a large, rough hand grabbed my neck and pinned me to the ground.\n\n\"What brings you here, boy?\" The man attached to the hand was equally large, his face mostly obscured by a beard. I wheezed, barely able to breath.\n\n\"He can't answer if you're choking him, Gerald,\" the woman chided. The hand on my let go, and I shakily got to my feet.\n\n\"Why are you here?\" she asked. Her voice was pleasant, and I could almost make myself think she was harmless.\n\n\"Just passing through, I live right over there.\" I pointed away from the hut.\n\n\"Honey, that's the lepers' village, and you look much too whole to be from there. You're here because you saw what I had, right? The question is why you followed.\" Her eyes narrowed. \"Are you working for someone?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"Good.\" She smiled. \"If you are, I'll kill you. Come inside, it's awfully cold out.\"\n\nI was ushered inside by Gerald, who was none to gentle. The inside of the hut was bare, except for a table that held the animal neck. There was an older man sitting on the floor in a corner, I assumed he was the third voice I had heard. His eyes followed me, but otherwise he was as still as a stone.\n\n\"What mark?\" the woman asked. \"Out with it now.\"\n\nI figured it best not to lie, so I pulled up the back of my shirt to show the wolf.\n\n\"Oh, we have a fellow criminal in our midst,\" she said. \"I assume you are not on speaking terms with the Mark Warden then.\"\n\n\"Blasted rat isn't my friend, if that's what you're asking,\" I spat.\n\n\"Good,\" the old man said. I turned, having almost forgotten he was in the room.\n\n\"We intend to kill him.\" The old man's eyes pierced into my own. \"Would you like to be a part of that?\"\n\nI thought of everything the Mark Warden had put me through, until I had reached my current condition. Anger smoldered inside me.\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"That's settled then,\" the woman chirped. \"Welcome to the team.\"", "\"𝑩𝒆𝒍𝒐𝒘\"\n\n\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\n\nWhen the rapture happened, there was no actual saving. No twelve tribes of Israel that got lifted into Heaven, no ultimate war between angels and demons, no widespread devastation. What we got was not salvation, but imprisonment.\n\nOn the day described in the Book of Revelation, four people appeared. You know them as the Horsemen\\-\\-War, Death, Famine, Pestilence\\-\\-only that wasn't who they were. They bore those names, sure, but all they exerted was oppression, influence, order, control. Overnight, the world was corralled into a section of land just shy of European shores, eleven billion people fenced in like pigs and cattle, forced to live among one another in a walled country. Nobody ever knew what was outside. From the ground, we could see arches of ivory towering over the boundaries of our new prison. We assumed that they were changing things on the planet, turning it into another heaven. Our confusion would not last for long.\n\nOver time, people went right back to business, using the backs of others as stepping stones to thrust themselves higher up Jacob's social ladder. Sooner or later, we were all branded with tattoos that signified what section of humanity we belonged in, the leaders of humanity persuading us that it was all in the name of God, telling us that when the rapture truly happened, they'd know who to send to Heaven first. I was branded with the Mark of Matthias, last of the Apostles, signifying my rank in the rapture. Those branded similarly shared space with me in the deepest slums of the country. The alleys were barely lit, and those sick and wounded would often be left here to die.\n\nMy job was to bury the dead and watch over their souls until the walls fell, whenever that would be. On one such day, I spotted a young woman, fleet of foot, race through the cobbled streets, bearing a forbidden brand: the Sigil of Baphomet. It was the first time I'd seen the mark. It would not be the last.\n\nA week later, the same woman slipped by me and down the street. Intrigued, I followed her, having trouble keeping up with her stride. Immediately, she knew she was being tailed, taking sharp turns down narrow paths in an attempt to lose me in the chase. She was almost successful, but I managed to sneak a peek at her as she opened a door at the end of long corridor before disappearing inside. Instead of letting curiosity get the best of me that day, I decided to leave, choosing to return at a later time.\n\nWhen I came back days later, I attempted to open the door to no avail and was met with force as I was pinned against its metal surface. The young woman kept me bound, asking my reason for being here. I told her that I noticed the Sigil and was intrigued as to how she was able to move about the city without being captured or worse. After a lengthy conversation, I convinced her that I meant no harm and she cautiously released me, slipping through the door and leaving it cracked open. I followed behind and secured it shut.\n\nThe corridors were lit with warm light and the sound of footsteps echoed through the halls. In the distance, deeper down, I could hear chanting in a language I didn't know. As I approached, I was greeted with the sight of a large room, illuminated in a deep red and lined with pews. Books of all kinds, old and new, lined the shelves along the walls. At the end stood several robed figures who continued to chant, heads bowed in reverence to the one seated upon a throne. \n\nThe creature I bore witness to was equal parts mystifying and fearful, long horns erupting from its goat's head that trailed off to either side and a star in its forehead. Its wings spanned the width of the room, its bare chest carrying female influence. Its arms pointed in opposite directions, two fingers on one directed to the sky, two on the other directed to the ground. The words \"solve\" and \"coagula\" were etched into its forearms.\n\nI couldn't speak. It introduced itself, claiming to know the true reasoning for our imprisonment and knew a means of escape. As it spoke, I could feel its words worm themselves into my ears, infecting my mind. My resolve was weaker than I expected. My vision blackened and the whispers grew.\n\nI awoke in the street, the rain pouring down upon my body. Wearily, I struggled to rise up to my feet, clutching my aching head. Immediately, my forearm began to burn. Hissing, I pulled my sleeve up and gazed in horror as the Sigil of Baphomet burned itself into my flesh. The smell was sickening. The pain was minute.\n\nI had been branded with that of the forbidden. I didn't know a way back to God." ]	6
	[WP] Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation walks down the ramp of his ship onto the forest floor of Pandora. The Na'vi watch in shock as this next wave of Sky People quickly surround their village. "I know you're hiding him. Tell me where the Avatar is and I won't have to hurt you".	[ "Zuko winced as the light hit his face. The burn still caused him an immense pain and this only amplified his rage and drive. He had a feeling about this one- the Avatar was sure to be here. He strode down the ramp, trying his hardest to appear in control. He took a breath of the smoky air and surveyed the scene before him.\n\nA column of soldiers stood before him in a lush jungle- or at least it was shortly before he arrived. Flames lapped at the tall trees and cast a sickly glow onto the shaded ferns. Kneeling in front of his men were several captives, bound in chains. They were of a sort Zuko had never seen- blue skin, peculiar facial features, and even a tail. \n\nZuko took a breath, and focused his energy into his chi centers. An intense jet of flame extended from his clenched knuckle like a blade as he advanced on the captives. \n\nHe held up his fire blade to the throat of one, a female with emerald green eyes. Those eyes stared back at him with fear and bewilderment as they recoiled from the heat. \n\n\"Remove the gag\" Spoke Zuko, in a tone that suggested he was prepared to get his answers by any means. The masked soldier standing behind the girl roughly tore away the cloth gag, and she gasped for breath, choking on the smoky air. \n\nZuko seized her by the throat. \"I want answers, and I will only ask once. The boy- where is he? Where are you hiding him?\"\n\nThe girl spoke in a quivering voice- but not in a language Zuko had ever heard. \"Rutxecrä’ä...Tutee rä’ä omum!\"\n\nZuko roared in anger and roughly struck the bound girl across the face. She cried out and sank to the ground. \n\n\"Do any of them speak in a tongue I can understand?\" demanded Zuko to his soldiers. \"None that we have seen, sir.\" \n\nZuko glowered with anger. \"Burn the rest of this wretched forest to the ground.\"\n\nHe strode back up the airship's ramp. Perhaps Uncle will know what to do. he thought. The Avatar would not evade him forever. \n\nHe would have his prize. His honor. " ]	1
	[WP] After decades on the throne a tired Queen lay on her death bed. Throughout all her life there has been but one regret; a shame her family has hidden for generations. Deep below the Tower of London there is a chamber with a single object inside a large stone with a rusting sword jutting from it.	[ "\"Elizabeth?\"\n\nThe queen didn't respond. She lay quietly on the left of the bed. She always slept on the left, even after her husband died. Meredith smiled down at the woman's wizened features, stern but soft. She told her once that did it as a memorial.\n\nMeredith leaned in closer and raised her voice, just a tad.\n\n\"Elizabeth?\"\n\nHer eyes fluttered open.\n\n\"Mer?..\"\n\nMeredith nodded quickly.\n\n\"Yes, it's me.\"\n\nThe queen nodded, struggling to draw in a breath.\n\n\"They're still...waiting?\"\n\nMeredith took her hand.\n\n\"Yes, your majesty.\"\n\nThe issue couldn't wait. There was almost no time left. Elizabeth was the sixth in her line to carry the name. She was an only child, her husband was dead, and they had never given birth to children.\n\nWhen she was gone, there would be no one else.\n\nThe United British Empire had lived under her rule for almost seventy years, carrying on resolutely through one of the most brutal periods of European history to date, and perhaps the most cruel in the history of the world. It began with conflicts over oil, then food, and then finally water. Economies collapsed, nations fell, and the old democracies crumbled into ruin. Chaos reigned.\n\nNot in England.\n\nIt was something of a national joke that the British were too sensible to tolerate that kind of nonsense. In truth, the explanation was far more precise. The Queen bound them together.\n\nThrough countless trials and conflicts, through austerity and peril, though hunger, thirst, and desolation, her image and her example had carried them through. Speeches, appearances, humanitarian labor and work; days without sleep, nights without end, and bitter struggles that dragged on for years...decades. Whenever anyone asked where she found the strength, she always gave the same answer, a response that had grown to become the motto of the new empire: The strength of our heritage sustains me.\n\nIt was no wonder she never found time for children.\n\nMeredith helped her to sit up against the headboard.\n\n\"Your majesty, you have to name someone. The whole country is waiting.\"\n\nThe queen shook her head and took another breath.\n\n\"No...\"\n\nShe descended into a fit of coughing. She wasn't ill. She was just...old. Her time had come.\n\nShe pointed to her nightstand.\n\n\"There's a case.\"\n\nMeredith opened the drawers and searched. There were books, trinkets, old photographs, and stacks of paper: briefings, notes, and endless memoranda.\n\nThere was only one case.\n\nIt was made from oak, and very old. The wood was bone dry with age and wear. She had served the queen her entire life, and she had never seen it before.\n\nThe queen opened her hand.\n\n\"Here...\"\n\nMeredith handed it over.\n\n\"What is it?\"\n\nThe queen smiled and undid the box's tiny gold latch.\n\n\"The past...and the future.\"\n\nShe drew out a key. It was made from iron. The metal had been meticulously kept, oiled and polished. Meredith didn't recall ever having cleaned it. The queen must have performed the task herself.\n\nFor how long?\n\nMeredith looked up.\n\n\"What must I do?\"\n\nThe queen smiled.\n\n\"Go to the basement...beneath the tower. There is a door.\"\n\nHer eyes fluttered shut. For a moment her chest ceased to move.\n\nMeredith threw herself forward. She shook the queen, gently at first and then more forcefully. Her head began to droop.\n\n\"Your majesty! Your majesty, wake up!\"\n\nFor just a moment, the queen's eyes lifted. Her glimpse was glassy and her glance was fixed.\n\nMeredith spoke.\n\n\"Your majesty, there is no time left. Who? Who will come after you?\"\n\nThe corners of the queen's mouth twitched, imperceptibly.\n\nHer words were barely audible.\n\n\"Whosoever pulleth out the sword...rightwise sovereign...born of England.\"\n\nThen she was gone.\n\nMeredith began to cry. She took the key in her hands. There was an inscription on its face, a pair of initials: AP\n\nThe door opened. A messenger came in.\n\n\"What did she say?\"\n\nMeredith regarded the queen for a moment. Her face was still. She turned to the messenger.\n\n\"Summon the cabinet and the party leaders. We must go to the Tower of London.\"\n\nThe messenger raised an eyebrow.\n\n\"Why? What's there?\"\n\nMeredith looked down at the key.\n\n\"The strength of our heritage.\"" ]	1
	[WP] As you type away on your computer at work, you notice a figure standing at the corner of your eye. You glance up to see that everyone in your office is standing silently still in between their chairs and desks, staring at you.	[ "For a brief time during my youth I sought the attention of those around me. But somewhere along the way those compulsions died, forever.\n\nI spent the rest of my childhood, and the first twelve years of adulthood, as a recluse. Practicality a shut in. If I hadn't built the nerve to get a job amongst people, whom I could easily ignore from within my cubical, it wouldn't have been inaccurate to call me an agoraphobe.\n\nSo when I noticed the eyes of everyone in the office directed at me, it was an emotional, terrifying moment. I began shaking before my brain was able to process a thought. My eyes welled up with tears. When I tried to speak, to ask what was going on, only a dry whisper carried nowhere. \n\nI don't know these people. Some of them have been here as long as I have, some have not. But they're all the same to me--unafraid and unthinking. Egos wrapped in a similar suit, each competing for worthless, manufactured resources as if their pointless lives depended on it. There aren't any genuine, good intentions amongst them. \n\nSuddenly I realized that I was holding on tightly to my laptop case, leaning heavily against the sharp corner of my desk. \n\nFinally, I found my voice. \"What do you want?\" I asked, with an embarrassing quiver. \n\n\"You won the raffle, Pat.\" Todd said. \n\nOh yeah, the raffle. Office prizes ranged from a new keyboard for the pc, to getting the bosses parking spot for a week. None of it interested me, but our names were entered automatically. \n\n\"Oh--okay.\" I muttered. My forehead had secreted so much liquid my eyes burned. I turned around and attempted to ignore the people in the room, half of which were still looking at me. \"Todd, you can have it.\"\n\nA collective sigh broke the tension, and everyone went back to work. Except for me. I had had enough for the day and decided that I would finish my work at home. " ]	1
	[WP] "Why don't revolutions ever work?" "Because after one complete revolution you're right back where you started."	[ "A small explosion in the street outside of the parliament building caused Juliana to instinctively duck for cover. The subsequent roar of the crowd brought her back to the present, and she gathered the loose pages that had fallen off her lap and settled back into her chair. Tom, her aide\\-de\\-camp, peeked through the curtains and smiled, “Fireworks, general. You should see the throngs of supporters out there. This is a new dawn of history.” \n\n“Yes, major, I just wish it were a quieter dawn at the moment,” Juliana said, smiling at Tom’s propensity for grandiose rhetoric. “Perhaps you should finish this speech for me, since you clearly possess a better tongue for it.”\n\n“If you commanded me to, ma’am, I would,” Tom replied. “However, I agree with your advisors that this first address should come from you–from your heart. After all, it was that very heart that led us to victory.”\n\n“My heart had nothing to do with it,” Juliana said. “Other than dutifully supplying blood and oxygen to my legs, brain, and trigger finger.” She sighed, rubbed her eyes, and looked down at the gaping hole in her draft where an inspiring conclusion should have been.\n\n“You’re dismissed, major. I need a few minutes alone to wrap this up.” \n\n“Yes, ma’am,” Tom gave her a crisp salute and exited, gently closing the heavy mahogany door behind him.\n\nJuliana’s eyes wandered from the door to an adjacent portrait of a middle\\-aged man with a pinched expression that made him look like he constantly smelled something sour. Juliana thought of how she had rippled that serpentine visage with a single bullet after he had begged for his life. Suppressing a wave of nausea, she walked over and removed the painting of the dead despot from the wall. Another removal, she thought, in a revolution composed of myriad removals. \n\nThe crowd outside began chanting and the percussion knocked a book off the shelf near the displaced portrait. Juliana bent down and examined it. The cover featured an ornate leopard, reared up on its hind legs, ready to attack. The inside was nearly unmarked, save for a single underlined sentence.\n\n“For everything to stay the same, everything must change.”\n\nJuliana rose–book in one hand, speech in the other. \n\n\"Major,\" she called as she opened the mahogany door. \"I've found my ending. I'm ready.\" ", "We were chuckling, my brother and I, remembering old times. The two of us looked similar. He was a little smaller than me and I was a little pudgier. From a distance he looked like an old man. An optical illusion? No, who am I kidding? He's old. We're both old. I'm even starting to go white at the top.\n\n\"I have kids now,\" I sighed, \"I can't do crazy things like that anymore.\"\n\n\"I know, I know, but I still think back on those days fondly. Back then we were young and naive, maybe a little unstable. We would plot revolutions.\"\n\nTo be honest, I often thought fondly about those days too.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nWe were all closer back then, maybe a little too young and a little too hot. I remember the protests, the signs, the slogans. \"Revolution now!\" \"We are the 99%\" \"Think of the planet!\" Sometimes I can't believe I was actually a speaker at the Revolutionary Planetary Council. I still remember some of my speech.\n\n\"Brothers, sisters, listen to me! We live in an unjust universe. The 1% think they're the center of everything. They think they're shining stars! We have nothing. They don't even realize the gravity of the situation. It's an unjust system! It's unstable! We need a revolution! Revolution now!\"\n\nThere were also the private conversations, the frenzied plans, the promises we made with one another. We were convinced that we could change the system. I had my own plot that I only shared with the three I was closest with, my inner circle. \"I've been thinking about this revolution for a long time,\" I whispered to them, \"and I have a plan. It will take exactly one year.\"\n\nAnd whatever became of that plan? I ended up in the same place I started.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\"Now look at us, eh?\" I said to my brother. \"We're old.\"\n\n\"You know, Earth,\" he said, \"it didn't turn out the way we planned, but I think we did okay.\"\n\n\"You're right, Moon. You're right.\"" ]	2
	[WP] Your boss always wore a full suit of armor at the office. Today, you learn why.	[ "It must be said that the armor was not standard plate armor - it was a powerful enchanted set of powered armor, a gift from an otherworldly entity that is too terrible to name. It is stored inside a star-filled crystal necklace that Brittany's boss wears around his neck at all times, no matter the occasion. \"Yo, Roark, what was it you said about the assassins, and the giant monsters? You know, when we first met?\" The pale-skinned man barely moved, as Roark McInnic pondered the question.\n\n\"That They were everywhere? That I know that there's one in this office? That They're aliens? Pick a quote here, Brittany.\" The two sat there for a while, the only sound being the coffee maker. Brittany got up and walked to the window, opening the blinds.\n\n\"Well, do you mind putting it on? 'Cause, there's something going on outside and I think you should take a look.\" Roark quickly pulled out his phone and began scrolling through the police taps and underworld contacts. Turns out, there was a small problem of a massive mutant horde of dogs being unleashed onto the streets. Another day, another MedTech 'accident'. Seriously, all those apocalypses would have been easier to deal with if the damn corporations hadn't tried to sell off the nanotech, or the magic charms, or even the damned souls of a thousand spiders. Don't ask, it was a nightmare in more ways then one. \n\n\"This incident, the mutant dogs, is a bit below the notice of the Void Wardens. Not my problem.\"\n\n\"I thought you had that armor crystal on for a reason!\" Brittany stormed about the room, checking and rechecking her hidden throwing knives and poison vials.\n\n\"Of course I do. This isn't one. I deal with The End Times; the alien invasions and the spider ghosts,\" he shuddered involuntarily, \"that sort of thing. My daughter could deal with these dogs.\" He pondered for a moment. \"Actually, I'll give her a call. This is her thing.\"\n\n\"What!\" Her objections were too late. Roark had already placed a call.\n\n\"Hey, puppy!... Yes, I know it's a bit early in the morning... Yes, I know you haven't eaten yet, but daddy needs some help at work. You see, there's these dogs... wait, wait! They are on the corner of Sixteenth and B street... Uh huh... see ya, pup! Good luck!\" He hung up.\"Well, Brit, you're in for a show.\" He walked up to the window and opened the blinds. While the two watched the mortals below scurry in panic, several heroic bystanders tried to respond. It was hilarious, really, as they basically pulled crowd control for the actual cops doing the legwork to get nearly devoured in the process. My, my, was it sad.\n\nSuddenly, a brown figure darted across the road. A teenage girl in a brown skinsuit, textured with fur and with the ears and tail of a Labrador stood alone against the tide of eldritch monstrosities. She raised her hands, and the dogs froze in place. They began to whimper and whine, with the odd angry bark. Slowly, their mutations and slavering jaws diminished as whatever magical force held them at bay purified them of taint. The girl on the ground, though, didn't fare so well. She collapsed in a heap, twitching uncontrollably. People began to whisper her name: the Canine Avenger, environmental activist and super-villain. Well, technically a silly vigilante - but who's counting.\n\nOut of thin air, a figure in baroque power armor stepped forth and picked up the unconscious form. The whispered stopped; it was bad luck to speak in front of the mightiest of Earth's defenders, the Void Templar. He stepped away, and a black flash swallowed them both.\n\n---\n\nA ripple in space, and a ship appeared over Earth. On the bridge, a man dressed in black garb surveyed the scene. \n\n\"Recall all agents and Eidolon warriors. The Void Dragon calls.\"\n\n---\n\n---\n\nQuestions, comments, concerns? Spelling or grammatical errors? Comment below!", "He was always very serious about his intentions. Sometimes he could be the meanest man on the planet but I’ve learned to live with it.\n\nYesterday we came across to rather interesting view. He was laying on the ground his eyes wide open and singing out loud. We thought that he is way beyond the threshold, he is now officially an insane person.\n\nWho knew that ignoring him would be the worst idea because when he stopped singing he went to his room running like a he was very scared of something. I felt some sort of heat wave came at me then I just blacked out. When I opened my eyes whole office building were tore in parts and no one was around except him. \n\n''They are finally here'' He said with a pain in his voice.\n\nI wasn’t sure what he was talking about but when I heard a thunder out of nowhere I knew that something terrible was happening. \n\nI couldn’t find out what exaclty what happened here but when I saw a glowing yellow jacket I had some sort of flashback. I went back to my childhood memories and I saw my missing parents. The last time I saw them I was 3 years old and there was a yellow glowing jacket behind them. I can’t recall where I was when I was a kid but I can get the sense that wasn’t the nicest place to be.\n\n''Your parents were trying to kill me.'' He said and he started take off his armour.\n\nHis face... I know him from somewhere... He is not just only boss... He is....\n\n----------------------------------------\n\nPlease don't mind any writing or grammar mistakes, I'm not a native speaker\n\n", "John's chainmail and armor rattled on approach to my cubicle. I minimized Reddit and pulled up an Excel spreadsheet just in time as he rounded the corner.\n\n\"Dave. Can you help me out today? Connie is out.\"\n\nJohn's wife Connie also worked for the company, as a sort of right\\-hand for John. She literally looked like Rapunzel. She had blonde locks grown large enough for her to sit on, and always wore a floor\\-length lavender gown. The two of them were famous around town for their commercials, in their usual full medieval garb, for Camelot Insurance Company.\n\n\"Uh, sure John. Do you need me to answer phones?\"\n\nJohn hesitated, then shook his head. \"It could be more than that. Come with me.\"\n\nI started to gather a few things so that I could make myself comfortable at Connie's desk.\n\n\"No, Dave, you won't need anything else. Maybe a jacket. Come on.\"\n\nI put down my laptop, bag, and notebook, grabbed my jacket, and followed John back down the hall to his corner office suite. He invited me to pass right by Connie's desk all the way back to his private room.\n\nThis was odd because I'd never been invited back to John's office, not even for a private meeting or my annual performance review. I stepped over the threshold. It was over the top, which I guess I should have expected based on John and Connie's outfits.\n\nThe whole thing was set up like a 12th century throne room or something. I saw a banquet table at one end lined with bowls of fresh fruit \$And was that really a turkey leg?\$, a gilded throne at a solid wood desk at the other end. The whole thing was illuminated through a stained glass window that I had never noticed from the outside of our building.\n\nJohn marched straight across the room to a row of metal lockers, muttering to himself. \"Yes I should have plenty to fit, you're about Andrew's size...\" He was tossing articles of clothing toward me from the locker. A tan tunic, leather boots, then I leaped forward and almost fell as I caught a chainmail shirt that was heavier than I could have thought.\n\n\"John, what's all this? I don't know if I want to be in one of the commercials.\"\n\nJohn looked back at me. \"Commercials? Oh no, no filming today.\" Then he grabbed the final two items from the locker, holding them out for me. A metal helmet and a broad sword. \"Go on, take them.\"\n\n\"John, I'm not sure if I'm comfortable with... Is this actually sharpened?\"\n\n\"What use would a dull sword be, David? Now suit up.\"\n\nI shrugged. You know, maybe this place could be weird, but the work was easy enough that I could get my job done in about half the day, and no one ever knew better if I spent half the day working on my own stuff. Maybe John just needs a date to some medieval fair. But didn't that usually happen in the spring?\n\nAfter I was done, I spread my arms out and spun around. \"How do I look?\"\n\n\"Ah...\" John looked me up and down, adjusted the sword hanging from my hips, opened the visor of my helmet. \"Passable! Very good. Now, David\\-\"\n\n\"Just Dave is fine,\" I reminded him.\n\n\"Let's go with David for today. David.. Lady Constantina\\- er, Connie\\- is not just home with a head cold. She's been taken captive.\"\n\n\"Captive?\" Maybe John is actually nuts, and my first clue should have been the full suit of armor every day. I wondered if maybe he had put Connie in danger himself for some sort of roleplaying.\n\n\"Captive. The Dragon Lord has been getting bolder and bolder, and he has finally made his move. I can't defeat him without Constantina's help, so we've got to go in and get her.\"\n\nJohn guided me toward a heavy oak door at the other side of the room from where we entered, under the stained glass window.\n\n\"You know, John, I actually have quite a bit of paperwork and... you know follow\\-up stuff to do on the Garrett case...\"\n\n\"That can all wait, David,\" John said as he pulled a bolt lock out of the door and heaved the heavy portal open.\n\nOur office parking lot should have been on the other side. Instead, I saw the sun rising over a pastoral landscape, flecked with workers tending crops and little cottages exhaling smoke from their chimneys.\n\n\"No need to worry, David, it's perfectly fine,\" John held out an arm in invitation to me to exit. Further toward the horizon, low black clouds were hanging over a sharp rocky mountain. \"I'll guide you all the way.\"" ]	3
	[WP] You've been chosen to represent earth and talk to the first alien lifeform to come into contact with us. They learn to understand your language and you have to explain to them what humankind is all about.	[ "\"Sss.. so wHAt do you Uuu..Uu-uusually get he-he-here?\"\n\nmuttered T'charl Tchtchtchtchtchtchtch.... \n\nSklis last name had alot of \"tch\" sounds, more than I could count sat across the table from me. We were at a Coney Island waiting for lunch. I was trying to both not stare at T'charl and also pretend not to notice the stares from every corner of the restaurant. (Not to mention the secret service agents, doctors, and scientists looming at the edges of the windowsills.)\n\n\"Well... I usually get their clubhouse sandwich with a side of fries,\" I nervously replied while sipping my pop. I could feel my face become sticky with sweat. This was the first time T'charl spoke from his gelatinous maw since we got here. I was worried I was boring sklim, so I said, \n\n\"You know... we could go somewhere el-\"\n\n\"NNNnnNnn0oo Th-th-this is good,\" interrupted T'charl, \n\n\"T-th-the truth l-l-lies innn t-th-the moondane a-a-after alllll.\"\n\nI glanced to see if the waitress was coming. \n\n\"I... I j-j-j-j-just wanted to get know you is allll.\"\n\nI gave a friendly nod and a smile; I bet skle was as nervous as I am. Or at least, I pretended that were true. Skle was all alone on this planet; sklis brethren in a spaceship in orbit. If skle tried to do anything funny, I was told that snipers would simultaneously irradiate, shoot, and vaporize him, which was reassuring? I took another sip of pop while I tried to think of something else to talk about. Luckily, I didn't have to.\n\n\"I... must repulse you.\"\n\n\"Huh, oh no no no. It's fine, you look great...? Really.\"\n\nPlease don't vaporize my planet. Quick! Recover the mood. \n\n\"It's just alot has happened is all... Today... It was just busy.\"\n\n\"Yeah, I know what you meannn.\"\n\nI think T'charl started to laugh a little there; or at least sklis gas sac exhale a bit. And I think T'charl was getting a hang of the language here as well; skle wasn't stuttering as much.\n\n\"How are you folks doing?\" said the waiter.\n\n\"Here are your club house sandwiches and fries. And that is a fantastic costume! The name's Darlene and if you need anything just holler okay? Enjoy yall.\"\n\nShe gave me a wink as she left. ", " I was shaking with fear when I was shoved into the massive extra terrestrial space shuttle. I was greeted by a few humanoid creatures, slighter taller than the average human and with absolutely no hair. They had no noses or necks. They stared at me, looking very skeptical. One of them turned to another one and whispered something. Then they both chuckled.\n\n “Hello, I am Perio.” the alien said confidently. “This is Farwo.” it said, pointing to the right. “This is Relti, our leader.” it said, nudging a shy little alien next to him.\n\n “Hey guys. So... I was sent here to explain humans to you.” I said calmly, no longer scared.\n\n “What’s a human?” said Relti.\n \n “That’s what I am.” I responded.\n\n “So do you all look the same?” Perio asked.\n\n “Of course not. We all look very unique. There’s something called an identical twin where you have the same DNA as someone though, so you look the same.”\n\n “Relti wanted to know if you guys really jump out of planes for fun and if tanks are actually real.” said Perio. Relti nodded.\n\n “Of course not. That’s sci-fi Relti.” said Farwo.\n\n “Actually...” I said, interrupting Farwo.\n\n “Oh my...” said Farwo as Relti and Perio slowly grinned.\n\n \n\n\n I was gonna write more but I’m a little busy sorry." ]	2
	[WP] Your apartment neighbors frequently make a loud ruckus in the wee hours of the morning. Your complaints and taps on the walls go ignored, until tonight. A knock on the door reveals a hooded cult leader, and he’s not happy. You’ve just interrupted a very important ritual.	[ "It's three in the morning. I've had more than enough. \n\nI slam my fist on his door, sending sharp pangs of pain up my wrist, but my knocking isn't even audible above the chanting, screaming, and Led Zeppelin music coming from within the tiny apartment, rattling the walls of the whole building. \"Petyr! Open the door NOW!\" I shriek, depsite the protests of my recent strep throat. \"Petyr! Pe—\"\n\nThe door cracks open and all the noise suddenly ceases. I'm greeted by a blood-red eye sunken deep into white flesh, barely visible behind the tiny opening made by the door. \"Hyello,\" he rattles in the slightest of whispers. \n\n\"Petyr, it's almost four in the morning.\" \n\n\"Yes.\" \n\n\"I have a final exam in less than five hours. Can you please, just for tonight, keep it quiet?\" \n\n\"I cannot.\" \n\nI sighed, rubbing the back of my head, completely exhausted. \"And why is that, Petyr?\" \n\n\"Important ritual. Come inside. I show. I explain.\" He fully opens the door, revealing himself to be covered from head-to-toe in a black cloak, a hood drawn loosely over his pale, bald head. He beckons me inside with an overly long bony finger and delicately closes the door behind us, locking the twelve padlocks that he crudely attached to the door himself. Candles cover nearly every corner of the unit, flickering dangerously close to the wood panels he nailed over the windows. There's no furniture. Burn marks and rusty stains pocked the cheap apartment carpet. \n\nHe leads me down the hallway to the single bedroom where a group of at least a dozen members are seated in a circle, wearing the same cloak as Petyr, most of them torn, ripped, stained. Their faces are invisible in the dim light, but I can feel the weight of their eyes upon me. \n\n\"We are the Guild,\" Petyr rasps, his bony hand on his chest, \"and we keep you safe. You are very special. You are chosen as seen by our Oracle. Only you can save the five kingdoms.\" \n\nIt wasn't the strangest thing I've heard from an apartment neighbor. \n\n\"I need to get my Wellbutrin prescription looked at again,\" I mutter, rubbing my temples. \"I'd love to save you because you're a nice guy, but can you guys be quieter about it?\" \n\nPetyr raises his hands in a drum major's pose, and the group begins muttering incantations in voices that carry around the room. All the candles go out except for one, and shapes begin forming on the walls, silhouettes of unknown beasts begin swirling around the room. Their mutters grow to yells, shrieks, and otherworldly music blairs, rumbling in my chest. A figure forms in the middle of the room, completely black, and opens fiery red eyes. \n\n\"\n\".̍̑͑̀̚͘\"*°•`-\" it growls in what feels like thousands of voices. Howling, screams of anguish and terror flood my mind, the suffering of thousands. \n\nI'm petrified. Horror weighs heavily in my chest, I feel ready to pass out. \n\nAnd then it stops. The candles reignite. Total silence. Petyr has his hand in the air—he must've gestured for them to stop. \"Very scary,\" he says gravely. \n\n\"...No kidding.\"\n\n\"We keep it trapped to keep you safe until the birth of the Uprising.\" He claps me on the back, his touch surprising warm, friendly. \"But no worry. Not for until next two hundred years. You will be ready then. Until then I make sure you are safe.\" \n\n\"Thanks, Petyr. I appreciate it.\" \n\nSomehow I get my legs to work again and he walks me outside. The air is crisp compared to the stifling apartment. \"I am sorry for noise. Did not hear you knocking before.\" He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a soggy dollar bill from 1864. \"Take. Get yourself a earphone for noises.\" I take it without protest, still trying to process what happened in his apartment. \"You are good neighbor,\" he rasps pleasantly. \"Patient with Petyr and friends. You are always welcome.\" \n\n\"Thank you Petyr. You too.\" \n\nHe retreats behind the door, only keeping it open by a sliver so I could make partial eye contact with him. \"Good luck in testing. Your training begins next week.\" The door gently clicks closed, and there is a moment of silence before the noise resumes, just like it does every night. " ]	1
	[WP] Earth is actually a psychiatric hospital, housing only one patient - Humanity, a hive mind with extremely severe multiple personality disorder.	[ "\"Ayy earth my best patient how's it going man\"\n\n\"Hey sun, feeling good today yea\"\n\"Me too\"\n\"Yea feels pretty okay my dude\"\n\"I dunno mr. sun I don't feel so good\"\n\n\"Okay, uhh, so, i take it you haven't been taking your medication?\"\n\n\"y...yea, dude, of course I have.\"\n\"He a damn lie.\"\n\"Nah miss me with dat chemtrail acid rain shit\"\n\"what meds tho\"\n\nThe sun sighs; the resulting solar flare sends millions of humans into the safe straightjackets they call homes. \"Dude, this is really getting serious. I mean, some of your 7.5 billion personalities even got multiple personalities of their own.\"\n\n\"So... what can I do?\"\n\"I dunno dude\"\n\"We don't do shit, I like things as is.\"\n\"Nah we gotta get a cure out fast\"\n\n\"Alright, first thing's first, like I said before, get your new world order in place. Illuminati, reptile government, I don't care what you call them. Once that's in place, we can go around spreading the drug, and get you back together. Got it?\"\n\n\"Yea bro\"\n\"Mmhmm lizard government sounds great to me\"\n\"What the fuck? No, ain't no shadow government shit gonna happen on my--\"\n\"Eh bro shut the fuck up\"\n\nAs soon as the voices rose in dissent, they fell. A hush descended like a weighted blanket over the world. The sun looked on in amazement, as, in a moment of clarity, the voices spoke as one.\n\n\"We gon\"\n\"Get our\"\n\"Mind back\"\n\"Together\"", "Hello dear reader.\n\nHave I a story to tell you. \nA neverending story in fact. \nThe greatest of all. \nThe worst of all. \n\n A story of love. \nA story of hate. \n\nA story of truth and lies and paradox. \n\nThis is the story of me and you. \nOf brothers and sisters.\nOf parents and children. \nOf eternal life and eternal death...\n\nA constant struggle and a constant suffering. \nBut in the end, this neverending story has quite a happy ending. \n\nRead and find out....\n\nChapter One:\n\nLet there be light. ", "Not a reply to the prompt in the normal fashion, sorry, this would make a neat discussion.\n\nI've actually been mulling this idea over in my head for a long time. What if in our universe there was only one being that grew so bored with itself that it tries to separate parts of it's own consciousness into tiny fragments just trying not to feel lonely. Thus explaining us and life around us, just taking interesting different forms, then returning to the mass consciousness that we were split from. ", "\"How's Mark today?\"\n\n\"Huh-uh-uh-hor-ribuh.\"\n\n\"I'm sorry to hear -\"\n\n\"He-heh-heh-heeiii-gaht chetted awwwn.\"\n\nMy patient looks at me. \n\n\"Bye hisssp dawg.\"\n\nI skirt the syringe around my waist.\n\n\"Quite a tragedy.\"\n\n\"Yeeiiisssssp. He-heh-heeiiiooowwwwww!\"\n\nHumanity recoils from my poke. He scoots down the bench away from me, clutching his left shoulder. No sooner do I breathe than he slumps and slams onto his side.\n\n\"Fredix to Earth,\" I say, lifting my dispatch - a square, metal device strapped to my wrist.\n\n\"You are received, Fredix. Is Humanity extinct?\"\n\n\"Affirmative.\"\n\n\"Did you observe anything of note?\"\n\nI glance at the corpse.\n\n\"Negative.\"\n\n\"Understood. Proceed with plan.\"\n\nI jump and run to the control room. The secret exit from the Simulacrum opens at my approach. Rounding the corner, I dash past the terminal and shout:\n\n\"Dedonate in 300 seconds!\"\n\nSirens blare and orange light twirl across the corridor as I reach its end and enter the hangar. My ship, which Humanity used to call \"Patrick\", is a red pod with five spinning arms that swim through space on the current of light. \n\nI board and speed away toward Zeggue. Too easy, I think, reclining in my chair. I should have set the countdown for 90 seconds. In my rearview port, the station explodes. \n\nFarewell, Humanity. Goodbye, Earth. We'll find a more accurate prophet to capture this time.\n\n", "\"I think I may have come up with a new treatment\"\n\n\"Another one? We barely managed to contain the results of your last experiment. Honestly, trying to align the fragments through unitary social constructs? And you couldn't see the potential for disaster in attempting this with the single most fractured personality we've ever \\-\"\n\n\"I know, I know, we've been over this a hundred times. Just... just give this a look. It's an entirely new approach.\"\n\n\"Hmm, targeted unification via localized treatment nodes? It's unique, I'll give you that.\"\n\n\"Will you approve a trial?\"\n\n\"Fine. Small scale only though, a single node to start, and no high profile fragments! Try to keep it as quiet as possible, we don't want the fragments to start killing each other en masse again.\"\n\n\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\n\n\"Uh Bob, you may want to see this.\"\n\nRobert Hawkins, head nurse at Beacon Point Psychiatric Institution, has seen some shit, it's pretty much unavoidable when you work in a mental hospital for twenty years. Between the injuries he wished he'd never seen, the walls painted with fluids he didn't want to think about and more suicides than he cared to remember, Bob had, he assumed, seen it all. So when Carl the intern, on the job for 2 days and looking like he was fresh out of high school called to him with fear in his voice, Bob was ready to show up with a reassuring voice and a steady hand to the shoulder, and maybe ready to have a bit of a laugh at Carl's expense with the rest of the staff once their shift was over. When Bob turned and looked at the security monitor though, he stopped dead.\n\n\"How long have they been like this?\" Bob asked.\n\n\"I don't know, I Just turned to camera 34 and saw them, I'm sure they weren't like this on the last rotation though.\"\n\nBob was sure they would have noticed them if they had been. It would have been impossible not to, every single patient in the rec room was standing perfectly still, almost at attention, staring at the empty table in the center of the room.\n\n\"Rewind the feed\"\n\nAs Carl held the button the image started jumping in 5 second increments. The further back it went with the patients standing motionless the more uneasy Bob felt. Finally, one minute and twenty seconds in the past, the scene changed. \n\n\"Stop! Play it forward.\"\n\nTwo seconds of normal life in the rec room, two patients on a couch watching a cartoon, a few by themselves reading, a few more just staring into nothing. At two seconds in there's a flash, followed by an un\\-natural stillness as all movement in the room stops. Then with a suddenness and synchronization that chilled Bob to the core, he watched as the patients, as one, stood up and turned to stare at the empty table.\n\n\"We need a nurse in there, right now.\"\n\nWithout a word Carl pointed to the screen. In the bottom corner, just barely visible in the frame, was the nurse assigned to the rec room, standing and staring with the rest of the patients.\n\n\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\n\n\"See? See! The fragments around the node are starting to unify already. I'm telling you, this treatment will provide almost immediate results.\"\n\n\"I'll admit the initial response is impressive, but we aren't seeing any sign of the consciousness emerging.\"\n\n\"There aren't enough impacted fragments yet, once the treatment continues I'm sure we'll start to see some activity. If we could just expand the treatment area\\-\"\n\n\"No, not yet, we're not making that mistake again. We'll let this play out, and see what the results are.\"\n\n\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\n\n\"Alright Susan, I see you, just give us a moment to get the door.\" The first thing Bob had done after re\\-watching the recording for the fourth time was remotely lock the door to the rec room, the second was call Susan Geraldo, the head of security. She was now standing by the door to the room with two of her burly subordinates and a pair of nurses armed with enough sedatives to knock the whole room out thrice over. Bob's radio crackled to life, \"Bob, you sure this isn't overkill? You said they're just standing there, right?\"\n\n\"Honestly, I have no idea Susan, I've never seen anything like this. Be careful in there.\"\n\nWatching the camera in the hallway, Bob could see that made Susan pause, she'd been there almost as long as Bob and had seen nearly as much shit as he had. They never really got along that well, but both had a grudging respect for the other, and Bob could see her taking that into account. He was glad, despite the calm he hoped he was managing to project he was feeling as terrified as Carl looked. Something about that motionless stare unnerved the hell out of him. They'd been watching for 15 minutes and the only reason he was sure that the patients were even breathing was because none of them had fallen over yet. Turning his attention back to the hallway camera Bob could see Susan giving instructions to her team, and then raising her radio to her mouth. \"Ready when you are, Bob.\" Without a word Bob unlocked the doors.\n\nThe team burst into the room with a forceful confidence designed to cow any patients who might be thinking of putting up a fight into submission. The three guards walked into the room like a wall of muscle, took 5 steps towards the centre, and then faltered, with the nurses following close behind. \"Susan? Susan! Talk to me!\" Bob yelled into the radio.\n\nHe could see Susan shake her head, like she was trying to fight her way out of a daze. She managed to raise her radio to her face \"It's... it's like nothing I've ever see. I can't take my eyes off it.\" she said, staring at the center of the empty table. \"It's beautiful. I can see so much, I think... I think I understand. Oh my God.\" With that Susan's hand fell to her side, dropping the radio to the floor.\n\nBob and Carl stared in stunned silence at the video feed for what felt like an eternity. Finally, with shaking hands, Bob pressed the control to lock the door. The moment the bolt struck home with a sharp clack Bob could feel in his gut even if he couldn't hear it, every person in the rec room turned as one to stare, with empty eyes, into the lens of the Camera. As Carl started screaming behind him Bob watched in horror as Susan reached into her pocket, pulled out her copy of the master key, unlocked the door, and held it open as the people, no, the things in the rec room that used to be people calmly filed out into the hall.\n\n\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\n\n\"Fascinating, you were right, once a critical mass is reached the consciousness does seem to begin to emerge. Though it currently seems to be mostly acting on instinct.\"\n\n\"I told you, didn't I? All we need to do is unify enough fragments and the condition will begin to reverse itself.\"\n\n\"The independent fragments are are sure to resist. The ones who remain near the node seem to be in a state of great agitation, this will almost certainly result in violence being used against the consciousness.\"\n\n\"Yes, some may attempt to violently disperse it back into individual fragments, but that's the beauty of this treatment. It's self perpetuating.\"\n\n\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\n\nScreaming filled Beacon Point. While Carl hyperventilated Bob watched in horror as the, the only word he could use was infected, patients spread throughout the institution. At first he had hoped that once they left whatever it was in the rec room that had caused this the rest of the security team would be able to stop the infected patients from leaving the institution. He had watched two of the guards run at a patient only to stop a few feet short and stare into his eyes. One guard turned and joined the growing crowd of the converted moving throughout the institution, the other, apparently unable to bear what he saw, clawed out his own eyes and lay writhing on the ground. That was when Bob initiated the lockdown.\n\nA lockdown operates on a few assumptions. One of them is that the head of security isn't opening doors for the people you are trying to contain. Another is that guards, on the other side of otherwise impenetrable doors, won't take one look at their attackers and then let them through. The lockdown was over almost before it began. The infected moved systematically through the facility, doing whatever it was they did to infect other patients and staff before moving on, either trailing the newly converted, or leaving them, eyeless, in a pile of blood. Bob still had one ace in the hole though, the entire institution was surrounded by a sheer wall, with a single metal gate that let vehicles in or out. Bob remotely closed and locked the gate, and this one couldn't be opened with the institution master key, only from the electronic controls in the room in which he sat. \n\nIt only took one patient to reach the gate before the jig was up. As soon as a single one saw that they were locked in, every infected person in the institution turned as one and started walking to the control room where Bob and Carl had hastily been barricading the door. At first Bob thought they might have a chance of surviving until the police arrived, unable to open the barricaded door with the master key the infected made a few attempts to simply push it open before stopping and standing perfectly still. Bob held onto his hope for mere moments though, before he looked at the video feeds. Every person in the facility was standing perfectly still, motionlessly, unblinkingly, staring into the security cameras. Staring through the camera's. And Carl was staring back.\n\nBob almost managed to kill Carl before he tore down the barricade. It was with bloody hands that he covered his eyes as the infected walked into the room, and it was with surprising gentleness that his hands were pulled away. Susan stood in front of him, staring into his eyes. And he stared back, at first with horror, and then with wonder, and then as one of them. \n\nWhen the police arrived 15 minutes later Bob stood motionless, staring, by the open gate to welcome them.\n\n\\-\\-\\-\\-\\-\n\n\"Well, never let anyone say I can't admit when I'm wrong.\"\n\n\"So you'll support it then? My treatment?\"\n\n\"Yes, it was very impressive, these are the most promising results I've seen in millennia. However, an overwhelming violent response is still possible, we don't want to destabilize the rest of the fragments.\"\n\n\"That will only be a problem if we let the current phase of the treatment run its course. I believe that if we introduce additional treatment points the chaos it produces among the fragments will be intense, but shortlived.\"\n\n\"You have projections?\" \n\n\n\"Of course.\"\n\n\"All right then, proceed.\"", "I was walking at the street at night at that time. I don't exactly remember where I was that time or what I was going to do, but I remember enough that a huge truck crashed on me out of nowhere leading to my demise. I thanked to God that I didn't feel a lot of pain, my body could have numbed down but I was sure that a lot of my bones were crushed.\n\nThe next thing I know I was already in a hospital. Oh, Thank God. The room is austere and painted in white. Upon further observation, the only piece of furniture in the room seems to be the bed I am lying on. This is very strange for a typical room in a hospital as there are no other fixtures. There is also no window. It didn't take me a lot of time to conclude from the looks of the room that I was in another place I did not wished to be in.\n\nA doctor then came, appearing to be that of a warm and meek but rational and calculating Caucasian man in his 50s. Wearing a long gown, he relived me with the words \"I am your doctor.\"\n\nFeeling good, I then said: \"Oh, nice. Thank you for saving me, Doc.\"\n\n\"I am your doctor, and there are only two persons in the entire Earth.\"\n\n\"And who is that two persons?\"\n\n\"Me and you.\"\n\n\"Is this an asylum where the doctor is the one who's insane?\"\n\n\"It would be better if I can explain and prove it to you.\"\n\n\"Then, prove and show it to me, man.\"\n\nThe old doctor then put his palm onto my forehead, and a couple of seconds later, I was looking at the Taj Mahal with lots of Indian people walking around. I then saw the old doctor besides me.\n\n\"Nice teleportation skills, you're like Thanos, you're cool, man.\"\n\nI was shocked that I spoke that in a very thick Indian accent. He brought me a mirror and I looked at it, I was suddenly a young Indian man, which was definitely not how I remembered myself.\n\n\"Come, let us show to you another facet of your consciousness.\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\nHe then put his head onto my forehead again, and suddenly I was with Vladimir Putin and lots of government officials surrounding me.\n\nI instinctively said, with the appropriate hand motions: \"We got the best deal ever. I am the best man. Very very best man. Believe me. Putin, you're my idol. Because you are the best man.\"\n\nI then hastily covered my mouth with my hand, because that's not how I usually speak or think, nor do I move my hands like that, like my personality and my mode of thinking has changed.\n\nThe doctor said: \"This is another facet of your consciousness.\"\n\n\"What, exactly, can you explain me what's going on? I turn into different persons anytime?\"\n\n\"Yes, you get it, but you do not \"turn\", you are different persons everytime.\"\n\nThen, we are back in the white room and I asked him: \"What do you mean, that I am different persons, I am different people at the same time?\n\n\"Remember when I said that there are only two people in the entire Earth - only me and you. You are the only being inhabiting Earth, a Gestalt mind having lots and lots of consciousnesses and personalities since the day that you were born.\"\n\n\"Billions and billions of manifestations of persona and character - to be precise 7.6 billion personas and consciousnesses that you are currently at the same time. \n\n\"However, you do not know that you are a single person, so, you think as if you are a multitude, everyday you talk to yourself, you interact with yourself, you spend time with your own persona, you learn to become enamored or hate your own consciousnesses.\"\n\n\"If this is too confusing or too much for you to swallow, just forget about this fact and live like you used too, because you might only experience mental distress if you did not. I am also sure that your Gestalt mind cannot process experiencing billions of consciousnesses at the same time at your current mental state, so you have to stick at experiencing the entirety of a single consciousness at once, like you used too.\"\n\nI become confused, I do not understand so I ask him: \"Can you TL;DR for me?:\n\nThe doctor sighs: \"You have a mental problem, you are a Hive Mind, but you only experience one life at once. So to make things easier, you have to complete that life when it's born, then after it dies you go to the other one.\"\n\nI slightly understood: \"Uh, so like reincarnation?\"\n\nThe doctor responds: \"Not exactly, but like that. You know, don't think so much about these for now, you will soon understand all of these later on and realize the real being that you are.\"\n\n\"You remember your last life?\"\n\n\"Sort of, my last \"consciousness\" died in a vehicular accident, I think.\"\n\n\"Lie down in the bed and sleep there. Upon you wake up, you will find out that you will be in a new life, as a new person, knowing all of the details of this new life. You will then quickly forget our encounter. After this \"consciousness\" of yours dies, maybe we'll meet again. But for the meantime, please enjoy your new life as soon as you can and forget everything about this.\"\n\nI then proceeded to lie down in the bed and sleep.\n\nI wake up, I was napping in a table of a restaurant in Tokyo, Japan. I looked in my hand mirror in my bag purse, I was suddenly an attractive Japanese high schoolgirl, surrounded with her girl friends. WTF? I am starting to forget my previous encounter and my past life, and my mind soon starts to speak in fluent Japanese.....", "We've always known, in our own special, funny way. Ironic isn't it? The being we have worshipped as God - or one of many 'Gods' - for centuries, was really our therapist. Our doctor. Our captur. \n\nWe've always known. The voice in the back of our head, the shadow in the corner of our eye, the deep, distant longing for something greater, wondering why we're here. Why are we here? Safety. Not ours. The universes. \n\n\"Cut it out.\" I looked up, behind the sullen shadow of my eyelids at a figure just as empty as I felt. \"Seriously, cut that shit out, it's annoying.\" He slapped the inside of my palm, the one I'd been tapping with my spoon. It was quite a nice spoon, round, well polished, a rare find these days, since we'd all realised how trapped we were, how trapped we'd always been. \n\n\"Well?\" He was irritated. He was always irritated. \"Well, what?\" I calmly replied. \"Jesus Christ... for the third, fucking time, what the fuck do you think we should do now?\" I shrugged. \"What can we do? We're running from something we can never escape from, you know we're all fucked right? You heard the announcement, 6 hours until this whole fucked up 'experiment' ends for good.\" \n\n6 hours. That's all we had left...", "# Enfeenak Report Title: The Gaia-Earthite hivemind – a study in Myriadality\n\n# Authors: One-Who-Hastens-To-See(1), Isgal-Of-Feasts(2), Stone-From-Manifolds-Bloom(3)\n\n*1,2,3: Centre for the study of Sentience, Intelligence and Intellectual Autonomy, Enfeen\n\nAbstract: In this report, the authors investigate the Gaia\\-Earthite sentience. The authors posit this mind to be a hivemind, with multiple personalities manifesting at the fore, each a distinct individual. This myriadalistic phenomenology is all the more interesting as it manifests itself within the structure of a Bicameral duality.\n\n# Introduction\n\nThe Hivemind of the Gaia\\-Earthites was first discovered by Mist\\-Whose\\-Luminence\\-Abounds during an expedition to install a Dyson Router near Alpha Centauri. The sentience was first thought to be a Solitary, with social structures driven by various dogmas. However, upon closer inspection by the authors of this report, it was found that this sentience displayed many of the characteristics of a Hivemind as well as* those of a Solitary.\n\nThe Sentience was deemed dangerous and was thus confined to its current location; Earth, chosen for its proximity to the Sentience’s origin system and for logistical convenience. The Dyson Router on Alpha Centauri, which has since been completed, provides an added layer of security against any violence that may be perpetuated by the Sentience, thus providing a safe seat for observation.\n\nFollowing discussions between the authors of this work and several experts in the field of Cognitive Sentience, funding was granted by the Centre for the Study of Sentience, Intelligence and Intellectual Autonomy on Enfeen to investigate this curiosity in greater detail for the period of one Throk \$roughly equivalent to one thousand standard orbital periods of the Gaia\\-Earthite planet around it’s sun\$.\n\nThis resulted in the authors being able to observe several generations of Gaia\\-Earthite life, and has directly led to the conclusions to be found in this report.\n\n# Discussion\n\nThe Gaia\\-Earthite sentience is, first and foremost, a Bicameral one. The Speaker, Gaia, manifests its personality through its Obeisant, the Earthite. However, the uniqueness of Gaia\\-Earthite is that the Speaker, Gaia, displays several symptoms of Dissociative Identity Disorder \$DID\$ and acts out these symptoms via its Obeisant.\n\nDue to the DID of the Speaker, the Obeisant take various forms. Among the most Intelligent and Intellectually Autonomous \$Int, IntA\$ forms are two instances of mammal: Humans and Dolphins, along with several instances of Cephalopods \$e.g Octopi and Cuttlefish etc\$ and Fungi \$e.g. Trichoderma etc\$.\n\nDue to the limited temporal resource available to the authors, it was decided to spend the majority of their time in observation of the Human instance, as it developed the most during the observation and displayed the most intriguing behaviour. The DID of the Gaia consciousness manifests itself within the Human instance as a Solitary species and sentience. However, despite this, the separation between the Gaia consciousness and the Human Instance \$HI\$ isn’t complete, as evidenced by the many social behaviours exhibited by this Obeisant.\n\nThe Gaia consciousness \$GC\$ acts out it’s DID on the HI in a shocking display of myriadality; each HI is a Solitary sentience as well as being biologically unique and distinct from the others. By the time the authors observational period had ended, there were nearly Ecta Sevl HI’s, with several Meel\\-Sevl having existed before.\n\nThe HI appears to adopt several of the GC’s traits upon congregating into social groups. The instances display collectivism, albeit usually acting out the destructive fantasies of the Speaker. The instances refer to this as “mob mentality”. Ironically, the Speaker shields itself from being re\\-assimilated by the HI collectivism by entering into a child\\-like state. The “mob” acts in ways that suggest it is far less intellectually capable than the sum of its parts, being more emotionally susceptible, impressionable and reactive.\n\nHowever, this simple affine connection between the Speaker and the Obeisant does not inhibit the Obeisant from carrying out the depraved, twisted fantasies of the Speaker on other instances of itself, much less on other instances of the Obeisant. While some, if not most, instances display behaviour towards the others that can be considered caring or considerate \$or at worst, apathetic\$, some instances commit acts upon the others that can only be described as gratuitously violent. Some instances even do so upon being mandated to commit such actions by others of their own instance, despite lacking the psychological inclination to participate in such behaviour of their own free will. The dogmas that govern their society contribute to legitimising this violence, while desensitizing those who lack the appetite for destruction or violence.\n\nHowever, the myriad Obeisant displays a dichotomous nature in their ability to perpetuate kindness with the same ferocity as they wage war against themselves. It appears that while the GC\\-Speaker suffers from DID, it also suffers from Obsessive Compulsive Disorder \$OCD\$ to a lesser degree, thus working to balance the actions of its Obeisant.\n\n## Conclusion\n\nWhile the uniqueness of the Gaia\\-Earthite Hivemind is beyond question, the conclusions reached by the observers of said Hivemind about its development and purpose are not unanimous.\n\nIt is the conclusion of one author that the Hivemind may not suffer from DID at all, but instead be acting out the juvenile fantasies of the Speaker’s Ego through the violence of the Obeisant. It is believed by this author that the Hivemind generated this instance of the Obeisant to fulfil its self\\-destructive tendencies. The author proposes that this instance will realise this behaviour to its completion and inevitable extinction, at which point, the author hopes the Hivemind will have outgrown its juvenile, destructive tendencies.\n\nThe other remaining authors find the diagnosis of DID and OCD in the GC\\-Speaker to be convincing, as several behaviours displayed by the Obeisant seem to suggest this is the case. For example, some of the recent technological activity by the Obeisant was aimed at discovering similar life forms in their sector. While these efforts are doomed to fail due to the unique nature of their existence, meaning they will not find sentience quite like their own or be able to recognise it when discovered, this search appears to mirror a deep\\-seated desire to confirm they are not alone. It is thus regrettable that the Obeisant do not expend any effort closer to themselves, as uncovering the truth of their sentience may expedite the Gaia\\-Earthite Hivemind’s recovery from DID while at the same time initiating the maturation of the Human Instance into an Obeisant that is not a slave to the Ego of the Speaker.\n\nThe authors have arrived at various interpretations of the observations made of the Gaia\\-Earthite Hivemind, but one thing can be agreed upon by all; the Sentience in question is a treasure\\-trove of knowledge and further research is not only advised, but incumbent upon us as Keepers of Sentience.\n\n\\-\\-\\-\n\nIf you enjoyed this story and would like to see more from me, please consider subscribing to my subreddit [here](https://www.reddit.com/r/phreaklikeme/)!" ]	8

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